Fallout Equestria: Clockwork Precision

by WyrmQuill

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Adventure, Sex, Fallout, Profanity, Derpy Hooves, Violence, Crossover, Main 6
Length: 1026719

Fallout Equestria side story focused on the ongoing efforts of those who had tried to prevent "The Last Day".

A Fallout Equestria side story.

Every war and story has it's heroes. Front page material that the masses rally behind and swoon over when met in person. However, there are many others that worked in the background during the great war that lead up to 'The Last Day'. That stayed out of the spotlights. That shied away from the fame and fortune that being well-known and popular brings. Why? Because that is what was needed of them. That was where they worked best. From the shadows.

This story focuses on them, their efforts to save Equestria, and one particularly very unconventional pegasus soldier of Equestria.

Betrayal put them on ice, but that did nothing to stop the fire of their resolve. Once released from his magical imprisonment he's free to continue the good fight. Arguably for an Equestria that needs it far more. Now he just needs to find some new toys, and make some new friends. Ones as crazy as he is to combat the savages of the wastes.

I would like to give a big shout out, and "Thank You!", to Mix-up for creating the current, first, and as far as I'm aware ONLY, cover for Fallout Equestria: Clockwork Precision.

He has a Deviant Art account where he has a wide collection of art he has done and I believe he's still taking commissions. He has his prices listed in his account page Mix-up for easy perusal. So if you're looking for someone to satisfy your art needs, give him a look-see at http://amalgamzaku.deviantart.com.

Published 2019-01-01 03:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2024-10-14 15:14:02 UTC

3 Knock Knock

The first sign of anything changing in the stable’s dim outer entrance is one of the bucks in combat armor fidgeting with his armor and clearing his throat. He stays sitting on one of the boxes they’d brought down while looking at the stable door and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. This clearing of his throat turns into a few hacking coughs.

A mare earth pony nearby looks him over with a look of disgust. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

The buck shakes his head. “Nothing. Just that damn dust. Feels like I inhaled some of it or something. Scratchy throat.”

She side steps away from him. “Well keep that shit to yourself. I don’t want any of your taint.”

The mare unicorn from before leans towards Bradoak. “I don’t think they’re going to open up. What’s taking so long?”

The coughing starts to spread to a couple others, and the unicorn mare next to Bradoak turns around and looks at them. “Hey, you bastards better not be coming down with something. Medical supplies aren’t cheap.” She takes a couple steps towards them then starts blinking rapidly. “The fuck’s in my eye?” She sits down and starts rubbing her eyes with the back of her forelegs. A moment later she howls out in a screech, “Fuuuck! My eyes! Why the hell are they burning! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! What the hell did I get on me?! I think it’s in my eyes!”

She stumbles a few times, then looks around at her companions, who are in various degrees of coughing fits. She suddenly springs up to her fullest, with her eyes red and streaming water, at the sudden realization. “Gas! It’s gas!” She looks over by one of the lights and sees the green hues moving in the air currents as she screams, “We gotta get out of here!” She runs up as fast as she can, stumbling the whole way, and starts quickly activating the button to the exit. Her horn glows faintly, illuminating even thicker green tinted fumes around her, using her magic to press the button before she even gets there. But nothing happens. She hops on it, and hits the various buttons repeatedly.

But still nothing happens.

Handy looks sideways at Gearing who calmly replies, “Remote override shut down of the control box. It’s ‘Down for Maintenance’.”

The unicorn pulls out her rifle and starts shooting at the doorway, but it ricochets off harmlessly.

An earth pony runs up, spins around and starts hammering away at the doors with powerful bucking kicks. He tries holding his breath, and succeeds for a while, but eventually he has to breath. And when he does, it floods his lungs with such a concentrated fog that he instantly falls over clutching his chest.

Tears form on the edge of Handy’s eyes as he watches the nightmare unfold before him on the screen. He tries not to think of the loved ones that will never know what happened to them, and hopes beyond hope that whatever children they have, if there are any, will have some sort of support and be able to carry on with the loss that they’re inflicting today.

The screams of pain and despair become a symphony of misery as the members of the Gunners mercenaries try to escape. They try to survive. They do everything they can to get away. But fail. And fall. Their bodies losing the strength to fight, way before they’ve mercifully slipped their mortal coil as Gearing’s special mix quickly fogs the entire area.

Except for Commander Bradoak.

While the other ponies thrash around on the ground, foam coming from their mouths as lesions start appearing on various spots of their bodies. Commander Bradoak stands there, staring at the screen, with a scowl on his face as his posture remains, despite the same damage appearing on him that is afflicting his dying comrades.

When the last member of his party finally loses consciousness, and the only noise is foam filled haggard breathing, Bradoak finally comments, “Well that’s just fucking great. You really think you’ve won today, Handy Hooves?”

Handy stares at the screen, his eyes getting ever wider as he comes to a terrifying realization. He looks at Swift, then Scarlet, and says after swallowing hard, “It’s… It’s a synth!”

Scarlet’s eyes go to their widest as she takes an instinctive step back from the Stable door. “N- no… no nonononono.”

Swift hurries over and looks at the monitor. “Are you sure!? How’d they find us all the way out here?!”

Handy throws his hooves in the air before pointing with both of them at the monitor. “It’s the Institute! I don’t know…”

Gearing looks around, and then focuses on Sarge for a while in silence. Sarge returns the awkward stare until he eventually shrugs. Gearing, disappointed, turns to glare at the others as he asks, “And… What’s a synth?”

“A robot pony,” Handy says softly, more of an automatic reply than anything with any real thought put behind it as his mind races on what to do next.

“Like a protectapony?” Gearing points at Sarge before sliding over closer to look at the monitor.

“No.” Swift shakes her head. “They’re made by the Institute. They look exactly like a real pony. You normally can’t even tell until after you’ve killed one. They even bleed.” She turns her head to look at Gearing and notices the cold stare before she continues softly, “But they’re robots. Despite being organic.” She sighs as she closes her eyes and looks down. “And very, very dangerous…”

Gearing stares at the monitor for a few moments before asking flatly, “You mean they’re the exact opposite of me?” This draws the attention of every pony in the hallway. “Okay, except for ‘potentially dangerous’, I mean I did just kill a dozen ponies after only waking up about an hour ago…. But, I’m not organic. I was born, not built, yet I’m actually a living creature…” He jabs a hoof at the stable door. “So that thing… is really pissing me off.”

Handy’s eyes jump back and forth. “This isn’t a time for a debate on your status.”

Gearing looks at him in the eye and says, flatly, “Fuck. You.” He walks up to the screen and stares at it as Handy pulls away from him. “It’s just a machine. It can be destroyed. Anything organic woulda already died in that soup I cooked up.”

“Watch yourself there slag heap,” Sarge comments. “I might take that as a personal threat… and enjoy the results.”

The earth pony standing outside has their skin start sloughing off as the gas mixture that Gearing had made continues to eat at their organic form. “Handy Hooves. We’ve missed you. How about you open up this door and we can talk… or I just blast it down. Your choice.” The voice becomes increasingly more gravelly as the voice box continues to be eaten by the corrosive fumes filling the entryway.

Gearing’s eyes jump back and forth between Swift and Handy. “How is it that he knows who you all are?” It didn’t slip past him that Bradoak had said Handy’s full name without prompting.

Scarlet huddles close to herself shaking as her eyes are as wide open as they can go. “They- they’re machines. Once they know of you… they all know of you.” She looks over at Swift. “What are we going to do, Swift? I won’t let them take me again!”

Swift looks over at her and stamps a hoof. “That’s not going to happen, Scarlet.” She looks over at Gearing, appraising him for a few moments before motioning towards the door with her head. “They are far tougher than a normal pony. The gas won’t be enough… especially since… I think it’s a- a hunter.”

Scarlet hunkers close to the ground shaking rapidly.

“Hunter?” Gearing asks semi unnecessarily.

Handy looks down at the ground as he holds onto the monitor with both forehooves. “A souped-up variation. Typically don’t even bother trying to act like a pony.” He looks over at Gearing and adds, “They are faster, stronger, and tougher than any pony could ever be. Just one of these things can wipe out a whole gang of raiders.”

“Even the Steel Rangers’ armor had its chinks…” Gearing says with a slight smirk.

Swift sits down and grins as she puts her hooves together just about a pencil’s thickness apart. “Okay, maybe a bit more.”

“Handy, Handy, Handy,” Bradoak says as he shakes his head, sending pieces of matted fur and sloppy organic material scattering around. “You shouldn’t have left the way you did… We want our property back.”

Scarlet falls down entirely to the ground and starts shaking violently. Swift trots over and holds her, letting Scarlet bury her face into her mane as she tries to comfort the crimson mare.

Handy replies back as he stares at the screen, “We’re not going back… We’d rather die than be in your ‘care’ again.”

Bradoak sighs as he nods his head. “I actually don’t doubt that at all…” He looks around at the bodies around himself before looking at the camera. “The wasteland does things to ponies… You didn’t use to be a murderer… I can see your resolve all around me.”

Handy flinches and his eyes go wide as another tear streaks down his face. He stomps with a hindhoof a few more times as he fights with himself.

“Look, Handy,” Bradoak says before hocking up a massive bubbling bloody loogie that splashes and sizzles on the ground. “I’m going to make this easy for you.”

Handy looks up at the screen, but says nothing. Just watching, examining the synth grinning back at him and feeling the cold eyes even through the display.

“We know you have some oh so lovely little ones… They would make excellent… ‘guests’ of ours… I’m sure we could get allll kinds of information with them. Although we’d prefer the original. The mother would be more preferred. Pure changeling DNA, untainted DNA.”

Swift stiffens and looks at the screen with a look of pure contempt.

“Bradoak, you’re not getting my children,” Handy says evenly as he temporarily clicks the button.

Bradoak sweeps his head around the room he is in and then brings his gaze back to the screen. “Yeah. I’m sure you’d have some kind of fall back plan for that. But, as cold as you’ve become to kill this many… Do you really have what it takes to murder your own children?”

Before Handy can hit the microphone button, Gearing stops him, and gets his eye contact before holding up his pipbuck for Handy to see. Handy’s eyes go wide for a moment, and Gearing nods towards the microphone as he removes his own hoof from protecting it.

[He’s playing you, Handy. He’s fucking with your head. Here’s how to reply…]

Handy looks at the screen and reads out loud flatly, “Don’t do anything that’ll let us all know that answer.” Handy looks at Gearing and raises an eyebrow.

Bradoak sits there a few moments, then chuckles. “Wow… cryptic… and cold… You have changed, Handy Hooves.” He shakes his head then looks at the camera again. “Look. I get it. Family’s always been important. So, I have a deal for you. You get to keep your family, and we get our property back, and we’ll leave you here in this … tomb.”

Both Handy and Gearing look at the screen intently as Handy asks, “What do you want?”

“Well,” Bradoak begins with a rough cough. “There’s that little fire filly you let escape when you left. We want her back… Elementals are so rare these days, haven’t been able to find another specimen… We really need to breed some more. And, for that, we need the real stock.”

Scarlet’s eyes shoot wide and she scrambles to hold onto Swift, holding tighter and tighter. “Don’t let them take me, Swift! Please! Don’t let them take me!”

Swift holds her close, starting to have trouble to breath from the oppressive grip, but continues to try and soothe her as she says softly, “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t you worry.”

“While we’d prefer to have a living changeling sample… We’d rather not risk losing all of it. So, you just give us some blood and tissues samples, and we’ll just have to make do with replicating and using that. But the elemental isn’t genetic, as far as we can tell, so we need her to understand it better… Once we either find, or make, another sample, you can have her back.”

Gearing looks over at Scarlet and his disposition sours. He can only imagine what she’s been through. From her reaction, he wouldn’t doubt if it was as bad or possibly even worse, if that’s even possible, than what happened to Nettlekiss.

“Oh, there’s also one more piece of property we want back.”

Handy’s head lifts up just high enough to look at the monitor. “What’s that? The moon?”

Bradoak chuckles. It’s a hideous sight, with his face seeming to slowly droop and peal off on one side in some disgusting display of reddish flesh and matted pelt. “It’s just a box. A crate that was sent here before the war.” He waves his hooves around. “If it’s still in there, we want it.”

Handy looks the monitor over and asks softly, “What’s in it? That’s a long time ago. It might have already been opened, if so… I’d need to find it, or whatever’s left of it.”

Bradoak raises his shoulders in a disgusting shrug, his armor sliding to the side over the partially dissolved flesh. “We don’t actually know. That’s why we want it. Someone went to a great deal of trouble to keep the contents out of record… So just hand over that crate, and whatever might have been in it and we’ll be good to go.”

He taps out a few commands at the terminal nearby him that’s locked out, except for the messaging system. A moment later both Handy and Gearing’s pipbucks get the message as it was addressed to the maintenance department.

Handy looks it over for a moment and shakes his head. “I don’t recognize this format. It’s not a standard Stable-Tec inventory code.”

But Gearing recognizes the code, he saw it on the side of a certain faux crate not an hour ago while he lay on the floor hogtied.

Bradoak raises both of his hooves. “What can I say, Handy, it was probably sent to the wrong address. Or, maybe they wanted to keep it safe, and no where was safer than a stable.”

“So, even if it’s just an empty crate, you’ll accept that?” Handy asks as he looks at the monitor.

Bradoak frowns. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re planning on looting it before giving it to us. But, if that’s the way you find it, we can hardly blame you.” He grins a wide toothy smile with teeth streaked in crimson. “We know you’re an honorable pony, Handy. You’ll do the right thing.”

Handy watches Gearing slowly walk over to Swift and Scarlet. Handy asks, while keeping his eyes on Gearing, “So, the crate, samples, and… your guest… then you’ll leave us be, right?”

“That’s the deal. Told you it was easy,” Bradoak says with a grin.

Scarlet scrambles on Swift, begging quietly, “Don’t please. Swift. Don’t let them do this.”

Handy smacks his lips a few times before asking, “We have a medical bot. It can get the samples you need. Will that suffice?”

“Sure.” Bradoak waves a hoof dismissively. “I mean, I’m in no shape to get the samples. I’d contaminate them all.”

Handy looks at Swift, who returns the flat stare, and asks, “How… how can we be sure we can trust you?” He looks at the screen and asks, “You’re cold, calculated, and are a machine without feeling.”

“What about it?” Bradoak tilts his head.

Handy shakes his head. “Prove that there’s something… some kind of FEELING behind this… some bit of goodness that will give me a reason to trust you.”

Instantly Bradoak pulls out a black box from its holster at his side, aims the end at an earth pony that’s long gone silent. A faint click can be heard before the red beam shoots out and hits the pony’s head, after a moment, the entire buck, or what was left of it, glows with a faint yellow and red, before collapsing in on itself as a pile of slightly glowing ash.

Handy hits both hooves against the monitor before he screams, “Why’d you do that?!”

“It’s kinder this way, isn’t it?” Bradoak looks up at the screen and shrugs. “At least giving them a cremation, instead of leaving them to melt into a cesspool that you all will have to clean up.”

Handy groans and asks, “And what about the rest of the Gunners? You can’t go back like that. And they’re going to want to come looking if they know their crew went missing around this area.”

Bradoak waves a hoof dismissively. “I’ll self terminate after the exchange is complete. They’ll never know we were here. We left no notice of our destination… The others didn’t even actually know where we were going. They were nothing more than a means to an end, and you’ve saved me the trouble of having to clean up that loose thread.” He gives a slight bow with one hoof across his chest. “Thanks for the assistance.”

Handy feels absolutely sick to his stomach. He says softly, “I get it. I hear you. We’ll talk about it.”

* * *

Outside the stable’s door Bradoak’s eyes, what’s left of them, narrow on the camera. “You can’t simply out last me. This gas isn’t enough to kill me, you know this. These fools brought more than enough ordinance with them to blow open a stable. I made sure of it. Though it was just a precaution, so if you think you can-“

Scarlet’s voice gets louder and louder over the speaker as she shrieks, “Don’t let them do it! Don’t let them do it! No! Swift! Help me, Swift! You gods damned traitors!” The transmission to the outer entryway turns into a loud screech and crackle with the sound of electricity arcing, then goes silent.

Bradoak stares at the camera for a few moments, then at the speaker. “What are you all doing in there? Handy?”

The stable’s robotic mare voice comes out of the speakers a few moments later. “Beginning decontamination protocol. Flushing unknown chemical contaminant from stable entrance. All personnel please stand by for stable door opening protocol.”

Bradoak looks at the speaker and around quickly, wondering what they are getting up to now. Before his gaze returns to his other side, a gust of air blows past him. He trails his eyes from side to side, tracing the air coming in, and smiles slightly as he sees the air slowly clear as the fog that had been thickening in the entryway starts filtering out as it’s ejected into the atmosphere through the exhaust system. “Haaaandy... what are you doing?”

The stable’s robotic mare voice replies a moment later through the speaker near him, “Commander Bradoak. The communication console at the entryway has been damaged by an electrical discharge. The stable door will be opened the moment the contaminants have dropped to a safe level.”

Bradoak sits down and shakes his head. “I’m already dead. There’s no need to flush the air now.”

The voice responds, “We are concerned with contamination of the stable. The stable will be opened once decontamination protocol allows.”

Bradoak sighs and looks around at the bodies around him, the various hairs moving independently by the rushing air. “I’m not going to wait forever, Handy.”

“You are in pain. Is there anything we can do for you, Commander Bradoak?” the robotic voice replies.

Bradoak shakes his head and laughs a throaty bastardization of a laugh. “Now, that sounds like the Handy we know and love… No. That is unnecessary. My function will cease once the exchange has been made. Do not concern yourself with my failing body.”

After several minutes of this circulation of air, Bradoak gets annoyed and asks, “How long are you going to stall?”

The robotic voice replies, “The entrance way has a small air evacuation passage and small pumps. It was meant to slowly cycle air over longer periods of time. Hours. The system was never designed to circulate all of the air in minutes.”

Bradoak looks at the camera and raises a deformed eyebrow. “But you managed to flood the entire room with gas awfully quick.”

“For the same reason this is difficult to remove, is the reason it was easy to add. Pumping in the fumes into an enclosed space is easier than pumping all of the air out in such a way that removes all of the contaminants.”

Bradoak thinks about it a few moments and notices the air pushing out from the stable towards the entryway trapdoors. “That makes sense. This area wasn’t designed to house life for long, just to blow out any contaminants from getting into the stable as it’s opened.”

“Affirmative,” the voice replies.

Bradoak walks over to the explosives, and shoves off the sloshy corpse of the buck that first started having the coughing fits. “Well I’m getting impatient. If you think this’ll hold me long enough for you to come up with some escape plan, you’re dead wrong.”

He opens the crate, and starts pulling out blocks as the air cuts off. A moment later the siren wails, and the lights around the stable door start spinning as the prerecorded automatic message plays. “Attention stable residents. The stable door is now opening. Please remain clear of the door until it has come to a complete stop.”

Bradoak turns around and starts trotting up to the entryway as the door begins sliding to the side. The voice surrounding him says loudly, with warm tones, “Welcome, to Stable 68. Safety underground.”

Bradoak grins ever more as the door slides open. “Well hot damn!”

Before the door gets very far open, a dark shape blocks the light a moment and moves in a blur through the opening door. Bradoak’s eyes start opening wide as the zipping shape of Swift, head low and murder in her eyes, comes charging out at him at full speed. He scrambles backwards, pulling out his weapon, but jumps back and away from her as she begins a flurry of hoof strikes at him. His shots go wide, and she ends up disarming him by striking his jaw with her power hoof encased left hoof, following it up by rolling around and swinging all of her legs at him, mostly missing, but catching one of his hind legs in the back of the knee, making him drop down.

The next figure on him, he barely saw approaching as Handy swings down a massive hammer towards Bradoak’s head. Bradoak manages to lean back, avoiding the main strike, but Handy follows through with a quick backswing that does catch Bradoak in the side of the head and sends squishy flesh soaring.

However, it seems to have little effect as Bradoak stops the next swing cold with his hoof, headbutts Handy, making him drop the mallet, while simultaneously bucking Swift in the side, hard with his right hind leg. Swift and Handy stager back, and take positions on either side of him as they circle him.

Bradoak grins at Handy and taps the mallet on the ground with his hoof before breaking the handle. “You really screwed up, Handy. We were going to make this easy on you… And with you out here, there’s no worry about you killing your children before I can get to them.”

Both Swift and Handy jump at Bradoak at the same time, having perfect timing. Their attacks come in from opposites sides, and Swift’s even entirely out of his view range, but it doesn’t matter. Bradoak is still faster. He grabs Handy and spins around, using him to bash Swift into the ground, then flips around and bucks them both a distance away, skidding through the refuse and gore that now litters the entryway.

As he turns his attention towards them, and crouches to jump at them, a glint in the puddle of blood below him catches his attention, he turns his head with unnatural speed to look at its source above and behind him.

But not quick enough to do anything about it.

Gearing’s heavy form crashes into him, with the long black rod he’d pulled out earlier. But, unlike earlier, the rod is alive in his grasp. The end crackles with energy, and Bradoak’s eyes go large in recognition before his entire body starts jerking and spasming involuntarily.

Gearing drives Bradoak into the muddy floor with his own weight, but the high voltage stun rod in his mouth bites in deep, and the electricity that he dumps out of it is absorbed greedily by the synth’s all too willing flesh and the robotic components may be under it.

Gearing uses the prod to pole vault over Bradoak, holding him down and dumping the electricity into him at the highest rate his weapon will allow, while keeping his own distance. He lands on the ground with all four hooves, fanning out his wings with a gush of air to stabilize himself. Gearing stomps down into the ground, kicking up a large rifle that one of the Gunners had dropped while in a coughing fit.

He hops up and back, partially taking flight, as he springs through the air, and plants the barrel’s business end directly against the temple of the synth. As the residual electrical energy arcing through the synth jumps from the twitching body to Gearing, arcing all along his surface and sparking between the various gears as they turned and go about their own business, he pulls the trigger.

BA-DOOSH.

And if that wasn’t enough, he fires a few more times as the electricity causes his body to shake, firing as fast as he can.

BA-DOOSH BA-DOOSH BA-DOOSH.

Handy and Swift get to their hooves and stare at Gearing in disbelief. He looks over at them, twitching erratically with random sparks shooting off as the electricity dissipates. Each spark accompanied with a slight twitch and a monotone, “Ow,” escaping his lips.

Handy screams out, “What. Have. You. Done?!” as he slaps his forehooves on the sides of his head before jumping over to check on Bradoak.

Gearing steps away from Bradoak, picking up his electric prod and stowing it as he says, “Destroying it. Wasn’t that the plan?”

Handy shakes his head, tears on the edge of his eyes again as he grumbles, “It was still a life. We could have talked something over while we had him subdued. You didn’t have to kill him like that, you already had him incapacitated!”

Gearing takes a few steps backwards, glaring at Handy, as he growls, “Oh. That is fucking rich!” He thrusts a hoof towards the corpse as he says, “You treat that … that... machine with more consideration than you do me! It tried to kill you, your wife, and steal your children, and there you are crying over it, when you’ve threatened wholesale slaughter of me and all I did was wake up!”

Handy shakes his head and looks at Gearing. “It’s- it’s not like that! You don’t realize what you’ve done!”

Gearing looks at Handy over his shoulder and grumbles, “Yeah, I do, actually.” He spins around and points a hoof at Handy. “Nettlekiss tasked me with guarding her foal. That’s all she cares about. This fucking thing said it was going to kill it… Ergo it had to be destroyed.” He turns around and starts rummaging through the equipment of one of the dead gunners. “I already failed that mare once, I’m damn sure not going to do it again… especially at the cost of a foal’s life.” He looks back at Handy as he spits out some ammo he’d managed to dig out of a pouch onto a cloth he’s laid down. “So go fuck yourself with your bigoted ass.”

Handy’s eyes are directed down as a slight sloshing catches his ears. He looks down and notices the body of Bradoak seems to have started to liquefy again. “No, oh no, no, no. Shit!” He grabs the head, and turns it, directing it to look at himself. He keeps slapping his hooves at it, trying to get the eyes to point towards him as he speaks, “Hey! I know you can hear me! Just… just stay away! That’s all we want! Just leave us alone. We’re not a threat to you, and if you keep coming after us it’s just going to keep getting costly. You guys hate wasting resources, that’s why you stay hidden. So… Just stop already!” His hooves desperately hold onto the head, as much as he can, as it slowly dissolves into a gooey mess between them.

Gearing trots over to the folding trapdoors to leave, and hits the button. Handy hops up and spins around looking at him. “The hell you going to do now?!” Handy’s eyes dart from looking at the metallic pegasus, to looking at the weapon that he seems to be very proficient with, judging by the way Gearing’s cradling it.

Gearing glances over at Handy as he motions with his head towards the surface. “I’m going to confirm if there’s any more threats. If so, I’m going to remove them.” He starts trotting up the stairs and Handy darts after him.

Handy looks at Swift as he passes her. “Get back in the stable, but keep the door open in case we have to make a quick retreat back here.” She nods and runs into the stable, skipping over all over the corpses and doing her best not to slip in the disgusting slime. Inside, Scarlet and Sarge are at strategic positions watching the stable door, and welcome Swift back, who quickly joins their barricade.

Gearing stops near the top of the stairs, and starts slinking very slowly up the last few as he gets as small and as low to the ground as he possibly can. Handy zips up next to him and taps him on the shoulder, not getting as much attention from Gearing as Handy would like, but at least earning him a quick sideways glance before he continues zipping his eyes around.

“Stop a minute!” Handy hisses at him softly.

“I’m not going to give them a chance to kill the foal. If they make it back we’ll have both of those organizations after us.” Gearing keeps his eyes on the one door he can see from the top of the stairs that seems to be the only exit for the room this stairway accesses.

Handy looks at him for a moment then shakes his head. “No. I mean. That’s fine. Just wait up; you don’t know what’s out there.”

Gearing looks at Handy sideways a moment then rolls his eyes. “D’uuuh… that’s what I’m going to go find out… But if you don’t shut up you’ll give my location away.”

Handy looks him over for a moment before he asks, “What’s your plan this time?”

Gearing motions with the rifle at the door. “I’m going to slip out, and get a view from above what’s going on. If I fly high enough they won’t even be able to hit me, even if they can see me.”

Handy’s eyes go big for a moment before he asks, completely out of dumbfounded reflex, “You can fly?!”

Gearing looks at him, and sets the rifle down, before he gently bops his metallic hoof on top of Handy’s head. “I’m a pegasus. It’s kind of our thing.” He waves at Handy with one of his wings.

In a typical earth pony form of stubbornness, Handy still doesn’t believe it. But, while he wants to try to figure this out, he decides he needs time for that, and now is not that time. “Okay. Well. Don’t fly too high.”

Gearing glances at Handy and chuckles as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I can’t hit the sun and my wings won’t melt.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Handy shakes his head. “It’s not safe up at cloud level.”

Gearing turns his head and stares at him with a look of complete confusion. “What? Clouds are harmless. They can try to get a bit wild at times, but manageable enough. I lived in the clouds. Cloudsdale ring any bells?” Gearing chuckles. “Clouds. They’re kinda our thing too.”

Handy looks at him a moment then shakes his head. “The pegasi closed up the skies a long time ago. When the war was still going on from what I understand. They have some kind of defense network and anyone that tries to pass higher gets fried. Pegasi or not…”

Gearing regards Handy for a few moments, and shakes his head. “N- no… they wouldn’t do that. I mean… We had entire armies up there. Loyal soldiers. There’s no way they’d just … betray the princesses like that!” He stamps a hoof. “You have to be mistaken!”

Handy looks at Gearing with true sadness and gently puts a hoof on his shoulder, carefully not touching his crystalline wings. “Things change, Gearing. Just… go see for yourself… but brace yourself, because the wasteland’s not a pretty sight.”

Gearing takes in a few deep breaths, not for the need for air, since he doesn’t breathe, but the deep irrational need to snort out his contempt at this thought. The betrayal that would be necessary to abandon the rest of Equestria strikes him in a way that is unconscionable. What about the princesses? He’s afraid to ask. Despite his personal opinions of the nobility, he’d never betray the princesses. But, one horror at a time. He turns his head with a snort and slinks away, quickly slipping through the door, almost silently, and out of Handy’s sight.

Gearing hurries down the hall as quickly and quietly as he can. It doesn’t take him long to exit out of an administrative office, and into the customer section of some sky wagon convenience store service station. He slinks around the counter low and slow, and pauses at the back door. He looks down at himself, covered in the goop from looting the fallen. As bad as that makes him look at the moment, his eyes settle on other parts of himself. He moves his forelegs a bit, testing his shoulders. Yes, they are still acting funny. He’s not positive, but he’s starting to wonder if the stasis weapon has left some kind of lasting effect on him. He just doesn’t feel like himself, and is having a hard time moving around in his own skin. It’s like he feels disconnected almost. From himself.

A disturbing thought clicks through his mind: What if this is all some kind of set up. Some kind of magically induced scenario meant to trick him into thinking it was reality. This whole thing is rather absurd, isn’t it? How could he go from being in an office, surrounded by hundreds of dutiful ponies, to suddenly waking up and the war being over? As unlikely as it may be that it could be a ruse, he can’t discount it. Memory stealing magics aren’t always perfect, so they may have him in a stasis pod somewhere trying to get him to reveal some crucial information. All of this could have been an illusion, faked since, his last trip to a stable? That maneframe data depot? Things have gotten increasingly more strange since that point. Like who on Equus would think an experiment with 1000 ponies locked in a stable, and only one of them being a mare, was a good fucking idea? That’s beyond ridiculous. There’s no way that could be real. Maybe it’s best to just keep fighting. He opens the door, checks that it’s clear outside of anypony, then runs through it and takes flight. Quickly gaining altitude as he flies up and away from the service station.

If this was some kind of hoax, and someone was being paid to get him to believe the world really had ended.

They needed a fucking raise.

Footnote: Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Primary Node query timed out. Attempting secondary…

Author's Note

Chapter 3

I think I'm getting the system down better, but will probably still come back and change some things along the way for visual display reasons. Once I figure out exactly how I want it and how I can do it and, more importantly, finding which of the things I want to do, once I decide them, I can actually do with the software limitations.

Story moving right along with introduction of yet another problem and danger to the group. For those wondering, don't worry this isn't going to turn into some sort of Stable Sim where they never leave. Gearing may have worked for Stable-Tec, but he's no Stable pony.

'Have tools, will travel.'

I hope everyone's enjoying the story thus far. Like always, comments, suggestions, and critiques are welcome!

-Quillsy

4 The Wasteland

Gearing shoots up as fast as he can, gaining altitude with each powerful pump of his crystalline wings. Flying up, and up, feeling the air zip by him and tickle across his wings, whipping the ultra-thin fiber that make up his tail and causing his metallic mane to lay flat against his brassy dome. But, no matter how far he rises above it all, he can’t rise above the facts appearing all around him, literally as far as the eye can see.

This. This is hell.

The greenest thing out here, in all of Equestria as far as he can see of it anyway, is his own crystalline wings. Whatever grass there is, is dead, dying, and always some shade of brown or gray. He can pick out buildings in the distance, in a few directions. Some he recognizes. Some he can’t.

Probably because there isn’t much building left to recognize.

He’d had thoughts, increasingly so, about getting out of the stable at the first opportunity, and making a bee line for a ministry HQ. But, what’s laying before him says that he needs to plan this out far more than his original thoughts lead him to believe. He may have been truly lucky to have been locked away in the stable. The literature was pretty graphic. And the ones he had access to weren’t the civilian copies, which had been edited to prevent crashing morale. No, the copies he’d been supplied with were grim. They were bleak. They were horrible. They were Nightmare Moon in the flesh unleashed upon the land.

They were tragically inadequate for what was before his eyes.

Not an order of magnitude off target, just slightly off. Not a perfect 10 point score on the rifle range by any means, but firmly seated on the 8/9 line just right of center. Still a kill shot to Equestria, but the reality left fewer buildings than anticipated and, if the time on his pipbuck is correct, the so called recovery is decades past due to even start.

Gearing looks up at the sky. Overcast he was used to. After all, rain is a part of normal weather in Equestria. Need it for the crops. But, this sky was different. He’s not sure why. Maybe it was his pegasus blood, or whatever you want to call the fluids flowing through his metallic body. But the sky looked out right angry to him. The clouds themselves seemed to hate Equestria as a whole, and kept it covered up from the sun. Like some bigoted hateful mother covering her foals eyes so she didn’t have to look at the zebra (or clockwork) they were walking past. These clouds didn’t seem normal at all, and they are, without a doubt, covering up the sun. And, it’s at this point, Gearing’s temper rises quickly.

They are denying Equestria Celestia’s gift! The sun itself!

With this, the betrayal has come complete in his mind. Regardless of anything else, this would be hard to explain. He looks down at the ground, looking for somepony to take out his frustrations on as he decides he’s going to have some really cross words for the next pegasus he runs across.

He begins a circling search pattern above the service station, not going very wide, but wide enough that he’s sure he can pick out anyone close enough to be a problem. But, there’s no one. Not in the rubble around the station, and not on the roof. Not that there’s many places for anyone to hide, especially from a discerning eye from above, but still, the area is eerily still, and devoid of life.

Now the only problem is the Station itself. He hadn’t cleared it out yet, and it is the only structure nearby that provides adequate cover from eyes in the sky. Even if only in a few spots. He dives down, losing all of the altitude in a calculated fall, feeling the wind rushing by him and can’t help but smiling. Freedom and the skies have always been one of his simple pleasures.

Well, simple for a pegasus, anyway.

He angles around, getting a good side view of the north side of the building, and zips down in a maneuver that quickly takes him counter clockwise around the building, landing on the south side at a full trot before coming to stop just before the corner. The other sides, and the windows he zipped by, held no clues to any life. The only other place to check is the large overhanging roof on the west side of the station where the large sky wagons could pull under to get out of the elements. He stands listening for a few moments. His ears twitch, scanning the wind and trying to discern the location of some noise he’s picking up. A slight rustling. Not in sync with the wind. Independent. Almost alive.

And if that expert analysis left him any questions, the loud ringing of a dull sounding bell certainly dispelled any doubts.

He sneaks up to the corner, sliding back as much as he can. He slips his head sideways, poking just an eye around the corner as he stays as low to the ground as possible. He pulls his head back the moment his eye had cleared the concrete enough to get a view at the source of the noise.

He sits there staring at the corner, waiting for any sound of anyone noticing his presence as he processes what he’d seen. There appears to be a group of ponies, in a wagon, inside of a large cage. The back of the wagon is nearest to him, and on the other side of it, judging by the hanging low utters, is a cow. She seems to be hooked up to the wagon, from the distance, but no one else is in sight.

He slides around the side, zipping into the entrance of the service station and double checking that it is truly clear. He pops back out, keeping low, and slinks up to the cage wagon. He pokes his head up, and stares straight into the eyes of a small earth pony, whose eyes jump to their widest, and they quickly retreat from the shock.

Gearing straightens up, waving a hoof at his mouth trying to shush them but freezes as he gets a look at the contents of the wagon. At the back of the wagon, a group of ponies cram themselves into the far side of the cage. Their eyes wide and their bodies shaking. Fear. He doesn’t have to be a diamond dog to smell it. They reek of it.

Well, they reek period, the fear is just the thing disgusting him the most.

The cage is full of a variety of filth. Their own mostly. The hay inside is matted and sticking to them in areas as they’ve not been able to get away from their own waste. In the far side he notices another pony, laying sprawled out, and quite dead. And had been dead for a while. Judging by the scorch marks around their shoulders and the complete lack of a head. The blood around the void where the base of the neck had been has long since dried into a tacky, oozy substance giving testimony to the not so recent death as well.

The other ponies had no choice but to stay in the cage with the corpse. The Gunners apparently either didn’t want to risk them running away while they cleaned it up, or simply didn’t care. And if that bit of information wasn’t enough to make Gearing want to wage the warpath across all of Equestria, the next realization surely galvanized his resolve.

They were all foals. Every. Last. One. Most didn’t even have their mark on their flank.

He directs his eyes over them as they shiver and shake. One of the little fillies moans, “No one move. Protectaponies can’t see you if you don’t move.”

One of the young colts elbows her. “That’s not it. Just don’t attack it. Don’t even think about attacking it.”

One of the older colts, still obviously scared, shakingly so, but apparently protecting the rest of them with his very body, faces Gearing down with a terrified, but strong resolve. “As if slavers weren’t bad enough…” he mutters.

Gearing looks at the one who’d just spoken, a dark yellow colt, and asks with a whisper, “Where’s the Gunners?”

They all freeze. Several exchange glances.

The young colt from before asks with his mouth hanging open, “It- it spoke?!”

The older colt elbows him and stares at Gearing with narrowed eyes. “Of course they can speak… they can hear too, you know.”

Gearing sighs and looks around again, his ears twitching around like little satellite dishes searching for a signal. “Gunners. Where?!”

They all look at him, and none of them say anything. Out of fear of making the Gunners mad, or fear of saying something and provoking him to attack, he can’t tell.

Gearing stands up more, and leans towards the bars. “Do you want out of that cage, or not?” he hisses at them.

Their eyes zip around as they all try to look at everyone else.

The older colt leans towards him a bit. “You gonna let us out? For real?”

Gearing bobs his head around. “That was the plan, after I deal with the rest of these Gunners.”

The other ones look at each other quickly, and the older one scrambles over to the side, having decided to take this chance, beatings and death be damned. “They all went in that way! One of the others came out here and told them all to get downstairs. That was a while ago. Hurry, let us out before they get back!” He points a hoof over at the gate.

Gearing stands up straight and looks at the colt for a few moments. “Twelve of them? Lead by Commander Bradoak?”

The children cringe at the very mention of his name, a couple even start crying. The young colt spits off to the side and shakes a hoof at Gearing. “Yeah, Thems the bastards all right… He’s the toughest of the bunch! He’s got a mean right buck to him too…” He rubs a hoof over his side, wincing at not only a recent memory, but the bruised ribs that give testimony to the treatment.

Gearing slings his rifle over his shoulder and sits down. “Oh. There’s no rush then.” He looks them over and waves a hoof dismissing any need for speed.

The colt grabs a hold of the bars, even biting at it a few times, before saying in frustration, “You’re insane! Come on! Let us out… nice protectapony… come on and help ole Apple Armor out of here…” Gearing doesn’t move at all, and the colts desperation surfaces as he beats on the bars some more. “Come on you metal wanker! If you wait too long, that Bradoak wanker will come back and kill you! And probably me too just for talking to you!”

Gearing replies flatly, “That’s not going to happen.” And continues to stare at the various children in the pen.

Apple Armor leans against the bars and growls, dragging his teeth along the disgusting metal. “Ohhh Mr. wanker protectapony thinks he’s all big and tough. Well you ain’t shit! Bradoak will smash you into scrap!”

Gearing returns his casual gaze to Apple Armor. “That would be impossible. considering I already killed them all…”

The group freezes, one kid actually snorts a laugh. Apple Armor smirks. “Yeah right… you? By yourself? Pull the other one!”

Gearing stares at him a moment and asks, “You said twelve, right? And they went in a while ago? All at the same time?”

Apple armor nods slightly. “Yeah… Why?”

Gearing shrugs then points a hoof behind him. “I can show you the bodies if you want… You were right, Bradoak was a tough bastard…” He grins and tilts his head as he slightly looks up and to the side, showing off his smile more. “I put an extra three rounds in his head, at point blank, just to make sure…” He wiggles his eyebrows as he practically gloats.

The others start looking around at each other. Apple Armor says in disbelief, “You’re lying. No ones that tough.”

Gearing shakes his head. “I’m not… I’m just smart… really smart.” He taps on his head and smiles. “I have a few old school tricks. Turned the odds in my favor. Now… speaking of being a clever pony… How about you tell me what those things are?” He points at Apple Armor’s neck.

Apple Armor spits off to the side then looks at Gearing. “For being sooo clever, you’re kind of stupid. It’s a slave collar. It goes boom if you try to take it off… or try to run… or they get bored… Everypony knows that.”

Gearing puts a hoof over his chest and says in mock shock, “Well I didn’t, that’s why I asked.”

Apple Armor looks at him, then sags his shoulders a bit. “Stable pony?”

Gearing shrugs and smiles. “You could say that.”

The majority of the colts look at him with an exasperated frown. Several say, almost in unison, “Stable ponies don’t know nuthin’.”

Gearing tilts his head and can’t help but smile. Stable pony. They probably mean it as some kind of slur. But he doesn’t care. Whatever they mean by it, it’s far better than ‘protectapony’ as far as he’s concerned. He leans in and raises a hoof towards Apple Armor’s neck.

Apple Armor jumps back instinctively. “Hey now, ya wanker! Don’t get so hoovsy!”

Gearing thinks about it for a few moments, and realizes he can’t march a group of… sixteen… walking bombs into the stable. That would be a security risk he wouldn’t have made as a rookie. Not to mention there may be some proximity detector that’ll detonate them if they get too far away. He grins and waves his forehooves. “I was just curious about that… I hadn’t seen one before… Mind if I take it? So I can examine it?”

Apple Armor rolls his eyes. “It’ll blow up if you mess with it, I already told you that, ya stable pony wanker.”

Gearing leans towards the bars, tilting his head to the side, and grins. “I’m mechanically inclined… can’t you tell?” He taps on his own head and chuckles. “I can get it off, no worries.” Apple Armor doesn’t seem very impressed so he adds, “Hey, I’m going to have my face point blank with it. I’m not going to do something that’ll get my own head blown off… I’m crazy, not stupid.”

Apple armor looks at him for a few moments then asks, “Well… what’d you give me for it?”

Gearing tilts his head “What?”

Apple Armor grins. “Well, you want my necklace. You’ve never seen one before… It’s a special necklace… if you want it, what are you going to give me for it?” His smile gets broad as he sits down and looks rather smugly at Gearing.

Gearings head tilts a few degrees as he stares at Apple Armor. Tick. Tick. CLICK.

The kid’s very life is at stake, but he’s trying to extort something out of Gearing anyway. Well. Damn. Kid’s smart. He probably thinks he’s pulling a fast one on Gearing. Gearing realizes that he might be able to flip the script on him, and just play the part of ‘stupid stable pony’ long enough to get them to safety.

“Well, it is a nice necklace. I think I can use some of the parts from it. What do you want?”

“Caps,” Apple Armor says without missing a beat.

Gearing tilts his head. “Caps? What kind of caps?”

“You know… Caps… sarsaparilla, sparkle…” Not seeing any recognition in Gearing’s face Apple Armor rolls his eyes in exasperation. “You know. Bottle Caps?”

Gearing tilts his head back as he lets out an elongated, “OOOhhhhhh.” He checks his pipbuck and the small bag of antique caps pops to the surface. He pulls them out as he chuckles to himself. Kids are so gullible. So easily entertained.

He looks into the bag he has then looks out over the foals, fillys, and colts in the cage. He does a quick count, though he already knows full well how many he has thanks to his sorting enchantment. Which is, thankfully, the one thing that does seem to be functioning for him. After making an exaggerated motion of counting the caps, and counting the heads in the cage, he says, “Well, ooookay. But, I only have enough to give you each one cap a piece. Does that sound fair?”

The cage rocks towards him suddenly as every living pony in the cage suddenly springs to his side of the cage with at least one of their hooves sticking out. They all say in unison, “Deal!”

Gearing is taken aback, but can’t help but chuckle. He knew people that collected caps from friendships and work. Like stamp collecting, but more durable. Maybe that’s the reason they seem to be collecting them. Only thing they can hold on to that won’t get ruined in the wasteland. The poor dears.

He pulls out a single cap, and holds it aloft for them all to see. “Okay, But it’s an even trade, right? I give you oooooone cap… and for each one you let me have a necklace… right?”

They all nod in unison. With a few of the younger ones chanting “Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!”

He walks over to the side of the cage, opposite of where they are currently, and near the corpse. As he gets close, he can make out the structure a bit, and notice that, judging by the frame, this was a young filly, who’d probably only recently gotten her cutie mark. It stabs a dagger in his heart as he wishes he could have gotten to her sooner. However, given the state of decomp, he knows full well he was in stasis and useful to no one when she apparently died.

Gearing motions over to him, and the others just stare at him, not wanting to move towards that side of the cage. He shakes his head and says softly, “Hey, I’m sure of my skill, but everyone makes mistakes. If… if something happens. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt so… this is just a precaution okay?”

Apple Armor looks at the others, closes his eyes tightly, then walks over slowly. He stays just out of reach of Gearing as he carefully steps around the corpse of his friend. Apple Armor’s pained expression is all Gearing needs to know that the two had to be close. Probably the oldest two of the whole lot. Apple armor looks at Gearing and asks, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Gearing nods. “We’re both going to be in this together… Don’t worry, if anything happens, my friends will come up and get the rest of you out.” He finds a hard time lying point blank like he did. Not that he thinks they’d just forsake these children to die of starvation, dehydration, and exposure, but calling them ‘friends’ is a long stretch.

Apple Armor gets close and holds out a hoof. “The cap first.”

Gearing chuckles and holds out the small cap on his hoof, and it quickly disappears before his arm even gets fully extended. Gearing’s eyes blink a few times then he chuckles. Apple Armor walks up to the bars, holding them with his front hooves as he lifts his head up and presses his neck as close as he can get. He shivers and shakes as he says with clenched tight eyes, on the verge of tears, “Well, do it already, ya wanker!”

Gearing looks it over for a few moments, taking in every little detail. He pulls up his pipbuck and starts tapping out a few commands, he mutters to himself, “No live signal… so it’s a receiver only…” He pulls out some tools and begins the delicate work. He asks softly, hopefully quietly enough that the others don’t hear, “What happened to her?”

“She tried to take her’s off,” he says flatly, not feeling like any more explanation is necessary. Apple Armor flinches and shakes as he tries to hold as still as possible. Sweat making his already matted fur darker and shiny in some spots. “Well?!” He belts out. “Do it already if you can! What are you waiting for, ya wanker?!”

He shivers and fidgets as he feels a tickling under his chin, but doesn’t move. A few moments later Gearing says playfully, “Goochy goochy gooo.”

Apple Armor pulls away, batting at Gearing’s hoof as he was tickling him under the chin. “The hell was that for ya wank-“ He stops mid sentence.

Gearing stands there, with an especially smug look on his face, twirling the bombcollar on one of his hooves like a miniature hoolahoop. The bomb’s lights are off and it seems entirely inert.

Apple Armor’s eyes go wide and he quickly rubs his entire neck with his hooves. He flinches a bit, as the bomb collar had been so tight it had made the skin bulge and he has a ring of bruises and blood blisters where it pinched the skin. He quickly scratches at it repeatedly, feeling the joy of having access to the single most itchiest part of his entire body. He turns to look at the others, with a look of pure joy, on his face, but only sees a wall of foals with jaws on the wagon floor. “What?” he asks.

The small bright-eyed violet unicorn filly points at him with wide eyes that sparkle as she says softly, “He did it… you’re free.”

The small colt from before nods rapidly. “It looked like he barely touched it!”

Apple Armor’s eyes go to their widest, and the realization that this might actually be real dawns on him. He slowly turns his gaze to stare at Gearing, and the rest follow suit.

Gearing continues grinning and spinning the bomb in his hooves, until he’s sure he has their undivided attention. He sets the bomb down carefully, then sits primly with chin held high in a perfect mock of nobility in the courts of Canterlot. “Next?” he asks flatly, before raising his hoof and showing another cap.

Multiple hooves shoot up in the air, and Gearing chuckles before pointing over to the small violet filly who’d spoken not long ago. “How about you? First, come on over here and I’ll get that off you.”

She nods rapidly, the collar, slightly oversized despite being as tight as possible, rattles against her chin before she bounds over and changes places with Apple Armor.

Gearing goes to work, and has the bomb off even faster this time than the last one. As he’s setting it to the side the little filly stares at him with a cross expression and stomp of her forehoof. “A-hem!” He looks at her and she holds out her hoof. “My cap?”

He laughs, and hands it to her with one hoof, as he rustles her mane with his other. She clasps the cap happily and giggles as he pats her head before bouncing over to join her friends.

Gearing picks up speed as he goes, going faster and faster, making a game out of seeing how fast he can complete the task. He and the children are having fun.

Until he screws up.

While working on the collar of one of the filly’s that looks like she’s just about the age to get her cutie mark, the wagon shifts, and his tools slip while in the middle of working on it. The collar’s lights glow and a screech comes from the bomb, as he appears to have crossed something.

On the second beep from the collar, Gearing yanks the collar off, and throws it a distance away from the station. It lands with a plop, but remains inert.

The filly, with her bright eyes, look into his and asks, “What just happened?”

Gearing looks at her face, and sees the trust in her eyes. The trust only a small child can give someone. The trust he almost betrayed. He can’t help but have the sight of the dead filly in the corner cross his mind, and realize, without any reservation, that in his haste, and in his own desire to show off, he almost made this little one join the other.

He gives his best smile and points a hoof at it. “It was being bad. I don’t think I like that one. Don’t worry, you can still have your cap.” He hands the cap out to her.

She looks from his face to his hoof, and scrunches her mouth to the side. “Well that doesn’t seem fair. If you’re not going to keep it, I shouldn’t get the cap.” A group of hisses come from her group of friends telling her that she’s being even dumber than the stable pony.

Gearing shakes his head and puts his hoof across his chest. “Well, it’s a matter of honor. I promised you a cap for the bo- … Necklace. What I do with it doesn’t matter… right?” He waves the cap at her and she gleefully takes it, then bounces over to the others.

The last couple are done slow, and methodical. He’s not sure if all of their moving around caused the wagon to jerk, but he’s not going to make that mistake again. Slow and steady wins the race, and the alternative is the blood of foals on his hooves.

Not going to happen.

He gets the rest of the bombs off and has them in a nice stack as he looks over at the group. “Well now, it was a pleasure doing business with you!” He grabs the bombs and starts stowing them in a saddle bag.

The kids wave and giggle their thanks.

Apple Armor bucks the bars a few times. “Hey… so what about letting us out of here?”

Gearing trots over to the back end and starts examining the door. Checking every little side, even flying up to examine the top of the door, drawing gasps from the children kept inside. He flops down onto the ground with a deep thud, and puts both hooves on the back of the gate as he stares at the lock. “Basic mechanical lock. After those collars this’ll be a joke.”

Apple Armor squeezes past the others and gets up to the gate “Well open it up already then, wanker.” He looks to the side and puts a hoof to his mouth as he smirks. “Or… is it too tough for you?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow at him, and can’t help but smile at the kid’s obvious manipulation attempt.

Playtime’s over though.

Gearing sits back on his haunches and looks the children over a moment before he asks, “First, I’m going to ask some questions.”

They all exchange glances, then look at Apple Armor. Apple Armor sits down and glares at him. “Oh, I get it. Now you’re going to make us pay you back the caps just to unlock the door.”

There are shocked gasps from several of the children. Several cradle their solitary cap even more. The one filly from before, with the bright eyes, leans forward and offers the cap. “You can have mine if you want.” Which earns her hisses from the rest of the group.

Gearing looks at her and can’t help but have a warm smile spreading across his face. “No, that’s okay sweetie, you keep it.”

She tilts her head, scrunches her mouth to the side, then nods and pulls her hoof back inside.

Apple Armor asks in a huff, “Then what do you want?”

Gearing waves a hoof around. “I’m a bit new around here… I’d like to know a bit of what’s going on around here… So… I’ll trade you. Answer a few of my questions, and I’ll let you out…” He looks them over and for the first time, with them all up near the bars right next to him, he can see how emaciated they are, with skin seeming to hang from their bones and giving them an even more haggard look than normal.

He suddenly gets the impulse to learn necromancy just to bring the Gunners back to life so he can kill them again.

The foals sit down and have a mix of looks ranging from confusion to disenfranchised. Apple Armor asks with his eyes so narrowed they are almost closed, “Well, ya wanker? You have a captive audience here…”

Gearing wants to chuckle. He does. It’s horrible. He feels so so dirty for wanting to. But, that was funny. He manages to not be a completely horrible pony, by only thinking it, and instead coughing into his hoof before he asks, “If I let you out, where are you going? What are you going to do?”

There are groans from a variety of the children at his choice of words. Apple Armor stomps his hoof into the muck of the wagon as he says, “The same thing we were doing before these wankers got us… Take care of each other and survive.”

Gearing tilts his head and says softly, “That didn’t seem to work out to well the last time.”

There are moans of agreement, and Apple Armor jumps at the bars and snaps, “We learned our lesson! They won’t get the drop on us again!”

Gearing tilts his head the other way as he thinks things through. Tick. Tick. CLICK!

Gearing perks up. “If I knew someplace safe… with food, and water, and you wouldn’t have to worry about any slavers getting you… would you be willing to come with me?” He taps out a message to Handy before returning his attention to the foals, and awaiting their answer.

[All hostiles confirmed KIA. You better get up here. Something you need to see.]

“I’d say you’re full of horseapples,” Apple armor says with a roll of his eyes. “If there was any place like that around here. We’d know about it.” He mutters a bit quieter, “And so would the slavers and raiders and you just can’t keep them out forever.”

Gearing grins as he leans in. “Not if the only slavers that know about it, have been killed by a certain shiny pegasus.”

He sits up proudly with his wing extended straight up and grinning at them with his head turned profile towards them. A couple of the children’s eyes go wide as they watch the various colored lights twinkle and sparkle across their filthy clothes and pelts.

Apple Armor considers him for a moment and looks back at his group. Then he leans against the bars and asks, “You ain't no filly fiddler, are ya?”

Gearing tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “Wot?”

“Colt coddler?”

“Huh?”

“A foal fondler?” Apple Armor asks half accusationally.

Gearing slams his front hooves across his front in a giant X shape as he yells, “Oh hell no! That’s… that’s disgusting!” He looks absolutely appalled as he looks over the children. They don’t have the same look of revulsion. Merely of thought. And it makes his heart sink. He shakes his head rapidly. “I get what you’re saying, No. Not going to happen. No ones like that in the stable. There’s foals in there already.” He looks them over and scowls, “And if I’m wrong on that, and anyone tries anything… let me know, and I’ll handle it… Permanently!”

Several of the children recoil at his sudden viciousness. Apple Armor, however, takes it as a somewhat positive sign. “Well then, what’s the catch?”

Gearing holds up a hoof and looks down. “First, I can’t guarantee you a spot. I have a high suspicion that I can get you in, but I have to double check with the ones in charge. And, even if I can, you’ll be expected to help out around the stable.”

“Doing what?” Apple Armor asks without losing a millimeter of his suspicion.

Gearing shrugs. “Well. Probably cleaning and the like. And, as you get older and learn new things, there’s always something in the stable that needs work or cleaned. The more help, the less there is on any one pony.”

Apple Armor looks at his friends then looks back at Gearing “Well, you let us out, and we’ll come take a look…” He leans against it extra hard and waves a hoof at him. “But if we don’t like what ya wankers are doing, were out of there! Got it?!”

Gearing nods. “Understood. Completely agree.” He looks to his side as Handy comes out of the station and carefully looks around the surroundings. The foals inside slink back away from the bars, trying to get as much distance between them and this new adult as possible. Gearing looks at them, and points a hoof at Handy as he introduces him, “Children. This is Handy. Don’t worry. He’s got foals of his own. He’s a good pony. He won’t hurt you.”

Handy takes in the sight, and walks around the wagon behind Gearing. “What’s all this?”

Gearing looks at Handy and rolls his eyes. “I might not be organic. And I know I’ve never had any children… but, and I could be wrong… I think they might, just might, be foals…” He looks at the kids then back at Handy with a grin. “Maybe.” He tilts his head. “You’ve heard of those, right? Tiny versions of ponies?”

There’s snickers coming from the cage as Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes. Handy looks at the kids then at Gearing as he says flatly, clearly not amused, “I can see that… Where are their parents? Why are they here?”

Several of the children’s mirth instantly dies as they flinch and look off in some random direction. Handy’s heart starts aching, and doesn’t’ stop until Gearing breaks the silence, “These aren’t the Gunner’s kids, don’t worry. The Gunners were going to sell them… as slaves… apparently.”

Handy’s eyes jump to their fullest as they dart back and forth between Gearing and the kids. “Well, we going to rescue them or what?”

Gearing slides open the gate, having unlocked it as Handy was walking around. “Already have. They had bomb collars too, but I already deactivated and removed them. Wanted to wait till you got here before I opened the door.”

Handy’s face pales as his jaw drops. “Bomb collars?! You decided to play around with bomb collars without even talking to me about it first?”

Gearing looks at him a few moments and raises an eyebrow. “What was there to discuss? Incase you haven’t noticed, I defused and removed sixteen of them before you even got up here” He waves a hoof around. “Obviously I knew what the hell I was doing.”

Handy regards him for a few moments before he says flatly, “Obviously.”

Apple Armor looks up at the two of them, from right between them, and asks, “You wankers going to make out or something?” They both look down at him and he snickers, “You’re arguing like an old couple.”

“I’m married,” Handy replies. “To a mare!”

“Not my type,” Gearing confirms simultaneously.

Apple Armor’s eyes zip between the two before he asks, “Well?”

Handy looks at Apple Armor then Gearing. “Well what? What did you tell them?”

Gearing looks at Handy, and hopes he’s judged his heart right, even the tiniest of bits. “We were hoping that, given there’s already a few foals in the stable, a few more would be okay.”

Handy’s mouth drops as he eyes the gathering foals climbing out of the back of the wagon. “I- I’ll have to talk with Nettlekiss… that’s a lot of extra mouths to feed…”

Apple Armor pipes up, “We don’t eat much!”

Gearing nods. “They’re pretty small…” He looks at the bright eyed purple unicorn from before for a moment, then looks back to Handy as he says, “Smaller than they should be, really… Handy, they need our help.”

Handy looks them over and doesn’t say anything.

Gearing prods. “Look. The stable was designed to be self sustaining for a thousand ponies. There’s not even a fraction of that now. Once I get that running, even a smidgen better than before, Food won’t be an issue… And that’s all we really need to worry about, everything else is already working fine… I can make this work. Don’t worry.”

Handy puts up both hooves, and closes his eyes. “I’m sure you can. But we still have to talk with Nettlekiss about it. It’s her decision.”

Gearing grins. “Okay, well then let’s go have a word with-“

“Kittty!” screams the violet unicorn, cutting Gearing off.

Both Gearing and Handy look over in the direction the violet unicorn is excitedly pointing at, and see Nahlah step out of the doorway. Nahlah looks around, eyes wide as she sees all the children bouncing around, then grins as she waves a paw at them.

Handy asks, “What are you doing out here?”

Nahlah thumbs back towards the door. “You two were taking so long, Swift asked me to come make sure everything’s okay.”

“Kittyyyy!!!” the violet unicorn screams again.

The next moment the air is full of flying children.

They soar through the air, springing from their various locations, and pounce on Nahlah. Nahlah’s smile goes from overjoyed, to friendly, to concerned, to out right frightened as the dark shadows of all the children overtake and blanket her.

A moment later, the only visible part of her is the tip of her tail that is twitching sporadically under the mountain of foalish flesh.

They gyrate all over her, climbing this way and that, petting and rubbing her fur. The violet unicorn says happily, “Soooo soooffft. Pretty kitty!”

Gearing and Handy stand there stunned for a few moments, then start snickering at the sight.

After a couple chuckles, Handy notices a pouch moving among the group, and a baton. A baton that he recognizes very well.

He stomps forward a few steps then yells out in his super powered dad voice, “Alright that’s enough! Now all of you get. Off. The. Cat!”

The kids jump in the air out of shock and instant obedience, springing into line in a semicircle forming around Nahlah at a distance, while looking at Handy.

Handy glares at them for a few moments and says in an exasperated voice, “Now, put it all back.”

The kids look among each other, and Gearing can see a cloth pouch be passed down the line away from Handy behind the kids, and can’t help but snicker.

Apple Armor asks, “Put what back?”

Handy glares at him, but Apple Armor doesn’t even flinch. “You know damn well what. All of it.” He points at Nahlah’s saddlebags, and the flaps that are still hanging loosely open. “Her caps. The Baton. And everything else you took out of her bags.”

A few of them freeze but others, most of them really, quickly, and sheepishly start pulling out a variety of items from hiding places that Handy and Gearing couldn’t see. Even pulling out items that neither had seen them remove and didn’t know she had in the first place. A couple of the younger ones even pull out hooffuls of fur. Nahlah’s fur, and carefully slide over to set it back onto Nahlah, trying to rub it back into her coat.

Apple Armor stands there, looking at the others with an eye half closed, but shoots a dagger like stare at Handy. “There. Happy?!”

Handy sits back and folds his forehooves. “I said all of it… Her caps too. I saw you take them.”

Apple Armor’s eyes go wide a moment, and he looks off in a different direction as he huffs. “Well I don’t see them…”

Handy looks them over for a bit and says with a softer tone, “Look. You’ve all been through a lot. I get it… It’s rough out there.”

Apple Armor looks at him and stomps a hoof into the ground before he shakes his whole body in disbelief. “What would a buncha stable ponies know about what it’s like? Huh?”

Handy shrugs and says flatly, “I only got in recently. Before that I had to walk the wastes with my wife and children.”

Gearing doesn’t look at Apple Armor, and is instead looking around at the surroundings and taking in the view of the other children. “I was dumped here in a crate and left for dead…” Gearing’s eyes settle on Apple Armor’s after finishing his statement and notices that Apple Armor’s staring right at him.

Handy looks at Gearing for a moment, then shrugs and nods as he confirms, “Yeah, that was a shock to stumble across…” He returns to looking at Apple Armor as he asks, “What’s your name, son?”

Apple Armor scowls. “I aint yer son.”

Handy tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes. “Aint got a name either?”

“Apple armor,” the defiant colt states flatly.

Handy waves a hoof at the other children. “Well. I’ll make you a deal… you give back what you took from her… and I’ll give you and your friends some food.”

The entire semi circle of children’s ears perk up, even Apple Armor’s. However, it’s Apple Armor’s stomach that betrays his stoic expression the most. A growing rumble increases until it becomes a practical roar with the mere mentioning of food. Apple Armor’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his stomach. “Shut up, ya traitor!” He punches himself in the gut with a forehoof for good measure.

Handy smiles and tilts his head. He reaches into his saddlebag, and pulls out every single thing of food he has. Gearing stares rather impressed at the collection of boxes, and cans that Handy lays out. With them, a few bottles of water marked with various descriptions of ‘clean’, ‘safe’, or ‘purified’ get set down as well.

The collection has garnered the attention of every one of the children’s eyes, even Apple Armor’s.

Handy waves a hoof over it and says, “You can have all of this. To split among you. And all I ask is that you give Nahlah back what’s hers, all of the caps you’ve taken, and let our medical bot give you a check up. After that we can talk about what next.”

A barrage of caps comes from the children, as fifteen of them throw their solitary cap, right at Gearing. He stands there, with his eyes partially closed, as they annoyingly plink off his metal sides one at a time to land around him.

Apple Armor is the only hold out, and looks at the others. “Hey! Whatchy’all doin’?!”

One of the older colts near him points at the food. “Even if they take all of our caps, that’s a deal!”

A young foal nearby has their face pointed down, but their big pleading eyes looking up at him. “I’m sooo hungry, we haven’t eaten in foreeeevveerrr.”

Apple Armor looks around at them for a few moments then spins around and stares at all of them “Hey! This could be a trick! We can’t trust adults. Ya forget the Gunners already?”

Gearing trots over and looks down at the food. He holds up an old box that seems to have some kind of cake desert in them. He sets it down and rubs his hooves together as he says happily, “Hey! I know! I’ll taste test it for you… you know… to make sure it’s... safe… Yeah. That’s it. Safe.” He holds the box up to his eye level, but off center so the children can see both his face and the box. “I haven’t had one of these since the war! I wonder if it tastes as good as I remember!” He sets it down, and slowly starts opening the box, keeping his attention on the children not far away as his eyes are actually at the box.

Handy smacks Gearing’s hooves away with a scowl. “Hey! I said those are for the children! Get your filthy hooves off!”

Gearing looks over at the kids and folds his forelegs in front of himself as he says, “Well! They didn’t want it!” He looks at the kids and asks as he snatches the box and waves it at them, “Right?”

The massive sound of stomachs rumbling, that comes in a chorus loud enough to sound like a platoon opening fire on his position makes Gearing flinch backwards in shock.

Gearing sets the box back down and looks at Handy. “I think they do want it…” He looks over at the kids, then pulls out a bit of fabric, puts all of the items on it, ties the top loosely, and holds it out towards them with his wing.

Apple Armor feels pressure on his flanks, and jerks to look behind himself. About six of the children are pushing him forward, with hooves, and heads, towards the bag. He rolls his eyes and goes the rest of the way on his own accord. He stops short, just out of reach of them, and slowly proceeds closer warily. There’s a long staring contest between him and Gearing, and he switches his eyes back and forth between Gearing and Handy, then, without blinking, he lunges up, swipes the pack, and quickly trots back to the others with the package in his mouth.

Handy snickers, but then folds his arms and yells out,” Okay now about the-“

Before Handy can finish the sentence, Apple Armor has back kicked the small sack of caps towards Handy, without even looking. Apparently they’ve decided that the amount of food they’ve gotten is worth far more than however many caps Nahlah had been carrying. As Handy picks up the bag, and his eyes are near the ground, he looks at Apple Armor’s retreating form, and freezes, dead stop, with his mouth open.

Gearing, notices this, and leans closer to Handy. “What’s wrong?”

“Even the colts… They’d do that even to colts!” Handy replies in disgusted disbelief.

Gearing follows Handy’s line of sight and sees, for the first time, the matted blood between Apple Armors flanks, and partially running down one hind leg.

Gearing’s eyes shoot wide and he snorts out a noxious fume as his hooves screech across the floorboards. He takes a few deep huffing breaths, then says to Handy before straightening up and turning his back to the children. “I don’t want to hear one fucking thing about taking them out… Ever.” He looks at Handy sideways as he’s turned around and made himself look busy picking up the various caps at his hooves. He hisses out in Handy’s direction, “Hear me?”

Handy just nods, and looks away in a different direction. The sight was confirmation enough. But it makes the situation worse for him, because he can only picture in his mind the horrors that these children have endured, and he can’t stop his mind from spinning down that particular dark drain.

Handy looks at Gearing as Gearing scoops up the last cap that had plinked off his metallic hide. “How’d they keep those hidden? You’d think the Gunners would have taken everything from them when they were captured.”

Gearing holds one up and giggles as he keeps his back towards the children. “Oh. That’s easy I gave these to them. Children… They’re soooo easily amused… They seemed to like these little bits of trash. I convinced them to let me have the bombs, in exchange for these little bottle caps… crazy right?” He chuckles with a big smile on his face. “Kids.”

Handy’s eyes go big, and he looks down at the pile sitting in the cloth in Gearing’s hoof. “Gearing… how many caps did you give the children?”

Gearing shrugs. “Like one each? Not many. I thought about just giving them the pile but there wasn’t enough for an even split and didn’t want them fighting over them.”

Handy nods “Oh… that’s not too bad then.”

Gearing holds them up as he looks for a trashcan. “Why? What do you mean? Afraid they’ll cut themselves on the edges?”

Handy looks at Gearing for a few moments and says something that nearly breaks every gear in Gearing’s head, “Gearing… bottle caps are money, you know that right?”

After a few moments Gearing starts laughing uncontrollably. It’s a good joke. Or, would have been. If it wasn’t true. Slowly, Gearing stops laughing, and looks at Handy completely dumbfounded. “Noooo… Bits are money. You know… Coins… about as big as your eye. That’s currency… This- this is trash.”

Handy waves both of his hooves. “No, seriously, Gearing… that’s money.” A sudden realization hits him and he grabs Gearing with both forehooves. “Tell me you haven’t been throwing them away!!”

Gearing looks at him a moment then lets out a long, “Nnnoooooo.” His eyes dart around for a few moments before he says, “I was seriously debating on it though…”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes before saying disgruntledly, “For now on. Ask me, or somepony, before just tossing away things you think are worthless… Okay?”

Gearing looks around and flops on his rear as he asks, “Well what else has magically gained value? Can I swap the mud off my shoes for some ammo? What about the tin cans from corn?”

Handy smirks, realizing the situation and finding the whole thing exceptionally humorous, having to explain such a basic thing to a grown ass stallion. Something even the youngest foal in this group of children obviously knew. “Mud, no, in fact it’s probably radioactive…” He snickers. “Scrap metal does have value though… Even cans.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes with a loud clang. “Well fuck me! I guess I better just keep everything then, huh?!”

Handy snickers and looks at him with a massive grin. “Eyup… pretty much.”

“It’s a good thing I’m pretty at least!” Gearing strikes his pose with his wings extended, causing himself to sparkle as much as he can.

The violet filly from before giggles as she wrestles with some food package and points a hoof at him as she says in an overly drawn out tone, “He’s preeeeettyyy.”

Gearing smirks and waves, then sits down and folds his hooves in front of himself as he ponders. He looks like he’s pouting, to most ponies that is. But he’s deep in thought. He’d been trained to do without. To be creative. To make due with whatever he could scrounge. But that wasn’t a skill that was very necessary in his day to day life and, in fact, caused a lot of problems with his interpersonal skills while not on assignment.

Now his ‘special skill’ seems to be a matter of life and death and has become as common as hunger.

Gearing notices a couple foals licking the inside of a piece of packaging, they have unfolded it and have it pinned down with their forehooves, licking the shiny insides as vigorously as they can. A smile on their face as they find small molecules of some unknown substance here and there. He looks at Handy and says, “Handy. I can’t watch this anymore. We need to get them some more to eat.”

Dead silence.

All around him, the rustling of plastic and packaging comes to a complete and abrupt stop at his comment. He looks over slowly, and sees all of the children looking at him. A couple of them have various packaging materials in their mouths. A couple actually seem to be trying to eat the packaging. But above all of that, is a slight glint of hope in their eyes. This food was amazing for them. And it’s more than they’ve had in quite a while. But, more?

More is better.

None of the children say anything. They know they’ve given everything they had, and have nothing else to barter with. Kindness is too much to ask for. Not in the wasteland. They’ve learned that through hard lives already.

Gearing gets up and looks at Handy. “I’m taking them in to see about getting them something to eat.”

One of the young filly’s with a tan coat says as she grinds a hoof into the ground, “I… I don’t have anything to trade… the only thing you might want from me… It’s just… I’m hungry, but…” She looks at Gearing and trembles as she asks, “Please don’t hurt me again… I don’t want food that bad.”

Gearing would vomit if he could. He’s instantly furious enough that he would, if he could, throw out a fiery cone destructive enough to receive applause from dragons and bows of submission from balefire bombs. He manages, through a great strength of will, to remain silent. Silent and immobile. Despite what all of his instincts and fury are demanding of him.

Handy waves a hoof, trying to throw out the images in his mind that had come crawling out of that spinning dark drain he’d fell into. “Just help out as you can. No one’s going to ask you to do anything that’ll hurt you.”

The kids look at each other and the violet filly from before says, hopefully, “We can make ourselves useful!” She looks at the others around her, her mane whipping around as she stands up tall and proud. “Right?!”

“Yeah!” their voice comes in unison. Then they start stepping sideways, looking at Handy, and with the small purple unicorn seeming to lead this strange side stepping conga line. Then, just as fast in unison, the children pony pile on Gearing.

Gearings ears go back as he sees the waves of tiny flesh coming at him. He glances around in different directions for avenues of escape, but sees none as the shadows slowly overtake him. The children bop and tumble in fast moving zipping motions all over him. With the kind of speed and enthusiasm that only small children can. Even more so with the amount of sugar a few of them consumed and giving them the relative boosts of a sugar high.

Handy bounces over in that direction and starts clapping his hooves together loudly. “Hey! Get’off’em! What are you doing!? Don’t go trying to steal from him too!”

The kids jump off and back into a semicircle line, all except the small violet unicorn that’s straddling the back of Gearing’s neck and rubbing the top of his head vigorously with a piece of cloth. She looks down and around her before hopping down to the ground and pointing up at Gearing with both forehooves. “See! He’s extraaa pretty now!”

Gearing looks down at himself and finds that, indeed, he’s been thoroughly cleaned. All of the muck that he had gotten on himself while sifting through the supplies on the dead Gunners is gone, and he hates to think where it had been transposed to. And, in fact, it seems that the centuries of dust that he didn’t even know he’d been collecting on his shell has also been removed. As every single fragment of his body glitters in the light, he looks down at the violet filly and grins at her. “Why, thank you little one. I certainly feel… prettier.” He stands at attention again and fans out his wings, catching the light and sending it concentrating and sparkling around the little filly.

She hops up and down, bouncing around in glee as she dances with the light show.

Handy looks at Gearing and Gearing replies as he starts walking towards the Stable entrance. “I had nothing for them to take anyway… Besides, for trust to grow, someone has to start…” He looks at Handy and says, “I’ll take whatever blame is needed. Don’t worry.” He stops just long enough to point back where they’d come from. “You probably want to check the wagons outside. Bring them in. We don’t want to leave any evidence that they were here. Also you’ll know what if anything from it all is valuable.” He turns towards the kids and says, “Come on, children. Let’s go inside and get you taken care of.”

Footnote: Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Primary Node query timed out. Attempting secondary…

Secondary Node Not Responding…

Author's Note

Chapter 4 gives a peek to Gearing of how far Equestria has fallen. Also ever more revelations to be contemplated on.

-Quillsy

5 More the Merrier

The children rapidly comply, falling in line and trotting happily behind the ultra shiny pegasus.

Handy watches them march by for a while and near the end of the procession he says, “Nettlekiss might have a problem with it. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Gearing continues on, head held high, as he leads them down the stairs. “I’ll take care of it. I can work enough to make it worthwhile.” He continues on a bit further and says as he reaches the top of the stairs, “Now, children, the bad ponies are down here. But, don’t worry, they can’t hurt you anymore… Just try not to step in any of them. You don’t want that on you.”

The children dutifully follow, with Apple Armor looking around with a scowl at anything and everything and just waiting to see something he doesn’t like. The children all pause on the stairwell. He looks around at them, and they all take in the sight of the battlefield in front of the door of the stable. They cringe and walk carefully around the various bodies, trying carefully not to step on any of them as they make their way to the stable’s main door.

Apple Amour’s head whips around. “You said you killed them all. Where’s Bradoak?”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at Apple Armor and says flatly, “I did kill them all…” He trots over and points down at the pile of goop that represents where Bradoak had a meltdown of his own. “Here he is…” He looks down at the pile and snorts in disgust. “Or what’s left of him, anyway.”

One of the older colts asks, as he cringes looking at one of the buck’s corpses, noticing the bloody matted splotches all over the pelt and the foam coming out of its mouth and nose, “Just… what did you do… to them…?”

Gearing shakes and stands up straight as he looks the children over. They all stare back at him with a mixture of fear and confusion, but with just a hint of hope. “I killed them. Of course. They deserved no less for what they’d done to you.” He shakes his head then strikes his pose again, with his wings unfurled straight up, and says, “I’d do the same to any who tried to hurt little foals.”

This goes a long way to winning the admiration of the children as they trot the rest of the way down the stairs and continue on to the doorway to the stable. Gearing zips over to the stable door, and sees Swift coming out with a scowl on her face.

Swift looks behind all of them and yells, “Handy, would you shut up for a moment?”

Gearing shakes his head and looks back at Handy. And, at this moment, he realizes that Handy had continued his fussing the whole way down here, and he’d just entirely tuned him out.

Swift looks the children over and asks with a warm smile, “And who do we have here?”

Gearing waves a hoof over all of them. “The Gunners had them enslaved with bomb collars. I rescued them from that, and we gave them something to eat… But, I was hoping that we might have some more to spare and was planning on talking with Nettlekiss about letting them stay.”

“Our resources are tight as it is, Gearing, for the umpteenth time!” Handy continues. “We can’t make any promises that-“

Swift says rather loudly, cutting off Handy, “Well then!” She looks them all over and gives them a smile. “Come along. To the medical bay with you. My, you’re all just filthy! Let’s get you seen.”

“But,” Handy says.

“-and then we’ll get some food in your tummies…” Swift continues, ignoring Handy.

“We can’t-“ Handy tries.

Swift uses a forehoof and starts herding the children inside. “Come along. Come along. We need to get this door shut.” She looks at Gearing. “Don’t worry about Nettlekiss. I’ll deal with her.” Then turns around and heads inside leading the way deeper into the stable. Nahlah patters by and raises both front paws in shrug as she grins at Handy before continuing inside, with the violet unicorn riding on her back.

The violet filly holds on as she lays out and nuzzles into Nahlah’s back. “Sooo fluffffffyyy.”

“Horseapples,” Handy complains with a stamp of his hoof.

Gearing turns and grins at Handy, not saying anything.

Handy eyeballs him for a few moments then says as his ears lay back, “You conniving son of a bitch! You were planning that from the get go, weren’t you? You knew. Just knew that the moment she saw those kids she wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’!” He flops down on his rear and folds his forehooves. “It’s not fair to play on a woman’s motherly instincts like that.”

Gearing just shrugs, then turns his back on the stable as he says, “Actually I really was going to talk with Nettlekiss about it. I’m sure she’d let them stay.”

Handy tilts his head. “Oh, really, smart guy? Just how are you so sure about that? Netltekiss hates stallions.”

Gearing sits down and puts a hoof on his chest as he closes his eyes. “I can be quite persuasive when the time calls for it.”

“You have nothing.” Handy rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t be able to convince her to do squat.”

Gearing stands up and starts walking towards Handy. “Oh, I’m sure I could… you see… I’m the only one that can ensure her foal’s long term survival… If nothing else, I don’t need any resources that the foal might.” He shrugs and waves a hoof. “And, I was going to put it to her this way… Either she lets them stay, or I leave with them… She can either let her foal be one of seventeen that I’m protecting… or I leave to keep the other sixteen safe… sixteen foals verses one… it’s straight math.”

Handy rolls his eyes. “You’re not that important, Gearing. You’re overestimating your value.”

Gearing continues walking by, but leans towards him as he says, “She has information you don’t … being connected to that mainframe means she knows the value of my credentials…” He straightens up and continues to look over the stable. “There’s no need to bluff… when you’re holding a royal flush.”

Handy shakes his head. “One of these days that ego is going to come back and bite you in your metallic ass.”

Gearing spins around and holds his right hoof high in the air as he fans out his wings. “But! Tis not this day!”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes, then looks around at the bodies cluttering up the entryway. “Well. Come on, Gearing. Help me bury these bodies.”

Gearing looks them over and asks, “What’s the point in that? Couldn’t we just toss them out? Garbage disposal?”

Handy looks at him and narrows his eyes. “They were still ponies… We may have needed to kill them, but we can at least respect the dead… If nothing else…” He turns back towards the bodies. “It lets us keep true to ourselves just that much more. That we aren’t like them. That we’re better than them.”

“No,” Gearing says flatly. Handy stares daggers at him, but his eyes go wide as Gearing points towards the stable. “The children prove we are better than them. We just want them to have happy lives. To have full bellies… These are pieces of trash that just see them as objects to be used, abused, and sold!” He kicks one of the earth pony buck’s corpse with a powerful buck, sending the head flying off as the tissues had already been badly damaged. Gearing snorts a few more times. “These weren’t ponies. They were monsters. Don’t compare me to them. Don’t you even dare try.”

Handy puts his forehooves up in the air and says in resignation, “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” He gets up and starts over towards the top of the stairs.

“No you won’t,” Gearing replies. Handy looks back at him, but can’t help smiling when Gearing continues, “I said I’d help the stable. And prove I’m useful. I won’t do this for them… but…” Gearing smiles lightly. “I’ll do it for you… and help lighten your burden… Go get us some shovels and I’ll start getting these bodies upstairs.”

Handy turns around and heads back to the stable but stops at the door as Gearing calls out to him. He turns to look at Gearing, and notices that Gearing’s normally over bravado-ed attitude has substantially dampened, literally according to the light.

“There’s a foal in the cage… She- she didn’t make it.” He looks up at Handy and says flatly, “She gets to be put in the ground first. Before I can help with them… She deserves her own spot… away from them. I feel like I owe her that much.”

Handy nods and heads inside as he yells back, “Okay. I can respect that.” By the time Handy has made it back topside, Gearing has already cleared a good portion of a deep hole with his bare hooves. His hooves, unlike most of Equestria’s denizens, are practically mini excavators, made from hardened metal with a nice recess in the center that makes them great for scooping. Handy can’t help but snicker as he looks at Gearing’s rear end high in the air as he’s scooping and throwing dirt with his forehooves back and between his hind legs like some rabbit digging a burrow.

Handy spits out the pair of shovels and asks, “Do you even need these?”

Gearing turns around and looks at them, then up at Handy and smiles. He holds up his hooves and shows how rocks have managed to wedge themselves between the hoof. “I can dig pretty well with these, but rocks get stuck in there and it’s such a bitch. I’d rather use a shovel.” He grabs one by Handy’s hooves and starts finishing up the hole. He pauses long enough to wave with a forehoof a distance away. “I already marked a spot for those Gunners. Start digging over there and I’ll be right with you as soon as I get her in the ground.”

Handy nods solemnly, grabs the shovel, and trots off as indicated. He finds a giant piece of rebar sticking out of the ground, and some hoof marks in the ground around it laying out a general area to dig. It’d be a mass grave. There’s no individual plots for these individuals, but it’s better than leaving them out in the open to rot. Handy looks around and notices that, from most angles, this area is out of view. The mostly collapsed building right next to it, with a pile of bricks that lead up to the edge of the predetermined boundary takes up one side, another pile of debris and boulders takes up another, and a wrecked vehicle of some kind takes up an angle that almost blocks the other two directions on a compass star. And, more importantly, apparently, there’s no direct line of sight to the service station, and Gearing, and thus the freshly dug grave is not only further away, but out of sight as well.

Even in death, she’ll never have to see them again.

Handy lets Gearing go about his business, while he gets to his own task at hoof, and jams the shovel’s blade into the rocky soil.

* * *

Gearing looks at Handy, who is panting and breathing heavily as he scoops the last of the dirt onto the large mound where the bodies had been placed. Gearing points at a spot under the shade and says, “Either sit down over there, or go back inside. I don’t need you collapsing on me out of exhaustion.”

Handy looks at him, and does neither. Instead flopping down in place as he focuses on his breathing and stares daggers at Gearing. He asks in between pants, “How. Is it. Possible. You’re. Still. Going?”

Gearing looks at him and grins. “I told you. Don’t underestimate me… My endurance can’t be beat.”

Handy uses his shovel to prop himself up. “Gotta. Sleep. Sometime.”

Gearing shakes his head. Then starts walking around and stomping on the mound. At first, Handy is appalled. Gearing’s literally walking over their grave. But, before he can say anything, mainly because of his current lack of breath, he notices that Gearing is, in fact, compacting the dirt down to the ground. He watches, with amazement, how the metallic pegasus just tramples the dirt into obedience and makes it nearly flat, but not quite, even after many repeated passes of leveling out the ground.

As Handy watches, Gearing grabs a set of debris, in a bundle, then walks over the grave backwards, sweeping his head, and the bundle, side to side as it disrupts the soil. He follows it up with a scattering of other debris, and dead grass, and twigs, and random bits of metal. Then in a move that actually brings Handy back to his hooves with indignation, Gearing starts bucking stacks of bricks off the piles and down further, partially covering the grave even further.

“The fuck are you doing that for!?” Handy manages to bark out clearly.

Gearing jumps from the pile of bricks, catches some wind, and lands near Handy. “Covering up the graves… I know you might not like the idea… but if someone comes looking for a dozen missing ponies, and happens to come across a dozen fresh graves… It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Then we’ll have a much bigger problem.” He throws his head back towards the partially camouflaged graveyard. “They’re buried. That’s more than we owed them, and far more than they deserved… We’re not risking the lives of the foals just to be nice to a pile of pony refuse.”

Handy shakes his head and says softly, “They were still ponies… How can you just be so calm about it?”

Gearing looks at Handy and continues on, “If you focus too much on a single battle, you’ll lose sight of the war.” He stops just long enough to point his hoof at the mass grave. “Don’t lose sight of your children, worrying about those who would have killed them.”

Handy doesn’t like the oversimplification, and again is gaining suspicions of the mechanical wonder walking among them. It wouldn’t be the first bot to have gone rogue. Hell, most bots in the wasteland seem to have lost their damn mind. Assuming they had one in the first place. He shakes his head and resolves to talk with Swift about the situation more. This is still really unsettling for him, and he doesn’t like it being brushed off so easily.

Life shouldn’t be so easily dismissed. And what would this mechanical ‘pegasus’ know about life? His compassion for the dead filly had made Handy temporarily forget that Gearing’s not organic. Had made him think of Gearing as another pony long enough to be concerned for him overworking himself. This cold disregard for the dead had snapped him out of that illusion.

Handy trots over, rather grumpily, with the pair of shovels in his mouth. A bell ringing catches his ear and he comes back around the corner of the station and notices the wagons. He’d been so caught up in everything, he’d forgotten about checking them for supplies. He walks over, and to the side, noticing the brahmin attached to the front. He continues along the side, taking note of all the bags and crates stuffed in the floor section where the driver would normally sit. A couple pieces of equipment catches his eye, and he decides it’d be a much better idea to get this off the road and inside before trying to sort through everything.

He grabs the reins of the brahmin, and leads them to turn around. It takes him a few moments to realize they aren’t moving, because they are tied to a metal pole. He facehooves, undoes the rope, and finds them mercifully easy to guide as they follow along as he directs them into the stable, taking a ramp that he activates for cargo delivery.

Gearing stays outside for some time, using a variety of tools and carving on a large rock that he’s found. After finally finishing his drawings, he uses a metal sheet as a sled and drags it over to the grave of the filly he’d buried. He spins the rock around, and sets it up, turning it so the writing faced him and where she rested in the soil.

He pulls out a cloth, and gives the rock a quick wipe down, which seems to make the etching pop out further.

A pair of small angelic looking ponies with halos fly on each side at the top, with the sun in the center.

Below it is the filly’s name, gleaned from Apple Armor, and a small obituary. One that Handy, like seemingly many things Gearing has decided on, hated from the moment he saw it. But, he would never be able to understand. The desire for freedom above all else.

Fig ‘Figgy’ Jam

“Wanted freedom more than anything, and got it.
Though the cost was high, may this little filly forever fly.”

Gearing tests the rock, and makes sure it’s steady, before sitting down in front of it in silence for a while. He lays out a small teddy bear that he’d scavenged, and rests a faux flower of unknown lineage between the stuffed animal’s arms. He rests a hoof on the top of the grave marker and says with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m sorry that no one was there for you when you needed them most. But, I’m here now. And your friends are safe. And I’ll do what I can to make sure that they stay that way… So… rest little one…”

He turns and heads back into the station. On the way he finds the tracks of the wagon leading to where the wagon had been sitting, and notices the wagon had been turned around and taken into the station. Out on the road, the tracks are much harder to follow. He takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a sigh, before grabbing some scraps and going out to remove the trail. He starts from the station, and goes backwards out into the road, and destroyed the tracks where they mingled with many others. Then, he hopped over to where the wagon had been, and gave the same treatment for a distance to the road, and further down.

It’s not a perfect job by any means, but is far better than the ‘Hey, come on inside!’ beacon that Handy apparently left for anyone looking for a group of missing mercenaries to find.

After he’s downstairs he notices that all of the supplies they had scavenged from the mercs was gone, including the blasting materials they had brought down. And, above all, he notices the stable door. The massive hunk of metal designed to withstand a near direct hit from a balefire bomb blast. Its paint declaring Stable 68 slightly faded, and chipping in places, in all of its glory and intimidating presence. He can see all of it.

Because it’s closed.

Gearing sits there looking at it for a few moments. Many things run through his head. He chuckles. Then he actually laughs.

“Well,” Gearing says to himself, “at least they threw me out this way, instead of shooting me the second I turned my back… I suppose I should be grateful for that…” He looks up at the door, following the edges of the seam where the irregular shaped door slides into place. He raises a hoof against his brow in salute. “Well, 68… at least you’re taking care of the foals. I’m okay with this trade. It’s been a pleasure.” He breaks the salute and turns around to leave.

“Hey, dumbass stallion, you going to come in here, or you want to fuck around out there talking to yourself a bit more?” the annoyed voice of Nettlekiss comes out of the speakers around the door.

Gearing spins around with his jaw on the floor. “Wha?”

“You promised to fix this place up, and take care of my foal. Instead you’ve been running around making a mess of my entrance, and filling up what space I have with a bunch of bottomless pit brats!”

Gearing walks back up to the door. “Sooo you’re letting me back in?”

“Well, yeah, it’s kind of hard to fix the stable from the outside… stupid stallion.” At that, the lights kick on, and the automatic welcome message plays as the door begins to open. “Attention stable residents. The stable door is now opening. Please remain clear of the door until it has come to a complete stop.”

He feels himself choke up as he’s walking forward, and the door opens, and he’s welcomed, and feels welcome, genuinely, by the end of the message. “Welcome, to Stable 68. Safety underground.”

He hops over the still moving gangplank and enters the stable. The entrance has been converted to a defensive structure, with a variety of items used to make impromptu barricades. Thick metal desks seem to be the go to as they are overturned and surrounded with a variety of boxes and general debris.

Gearing’s head swivels side to side as he asks, “Where’s everyone else?”

Sarge, the only one there, standing at the exact end of the catwalk material replies, “I was ordered to stand here and await your return. You took your damn time, you zebra loving muckraker!”

Gearing starts passing him, but strikes a pose as he lifts his head slightly and grins while looking at Sarge sideways. “Of course. There was a lot of pony shaped muck to be raked, and I wanted to make sure it was good, dead, and buried.”

Sarge starts laughing. Loudly. “Quit trying to get on my good side, ya zebra lover.”

Gearing heads to medical, following the tag location on his pipbuck to find Handy. He’s stopped outside the door as Handy is exiting and the two stare at each other for a few moments. Handy nods back behind him as he says, “Nettlekiss agreed they can stay, as long as they don’t cause any problems and we can support it…”

Gearing strikes his pose then points both forehooves at Handy. “Gotcha!”

Handy rolls his eyes then runs a hoof through his mane. “Yeah, but this place has a loooong way to go before we can even think about that…”

Gearing folds his hooves and raises an eyebrow. “Hey. Earth pony… get the rocks out of your head and start giving me some tasks… start off low risk if you really want, but the more you give me at once the more I can get done.”

Handy looks at his pipbuck, then taps out some commands and sends a list to Gearing. “Here, you try to do something with these.”

Gearing looks at it, and asks as his eyes come across the most critical on the list, “The reactor? That’s in the lower levels, aint it?”

Handy looks at it and groans. “Yeah. You’re right. Forget it for now and do-“

Gearing waves a hoof. “Nope. Sounds like a great place to start. I just need someone to watch my back so nothing sneaks up on me while down there.”

Handy tilts his head. “We don’t know what’s down there, Gearing. There’s far worse things in the wasteland than just assholes with guns.”

Gearing beckons with his hooves. “Well. Lay it on me.”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes and sighs. “I don’t have time for everything, but, we’ve already run into radroaches in the stable. Damn things can get in anywhere it seems. We’re hoping it’s not because there’s a hole in the structure somewhere. That would mean a lot of much bigger problems coming in… Then, since this is a stable, and we haven’t found nearly enough bodies yet, there’s the possibility of ghouls.”

Gearing raises a hoof classroom style. “Mr. Hooves! What’s a ‘Ghoul’?”

Handy takes in a deep breath. “They’re like you, hard to explain. Generally, at least as DJ Pon3 says, they’re just like everypony else… except they look awful with skin falling off and everything… A product of way too much radiation exposure.”

Gearing waves a hoof. “That’s not really much of a problem for me…”

“Mmmhmm, sure… but the ghouls might be,” Handy reminds.

“So, what, just shoot them?”

Handy waves both of his hooves. “No! I mean, yes. I mean… look. Feral ghouls are cannibalistic monsters, they’ll attack and try to eat you. Shoot those… but the other ghouls… Don’t do anything unless they do something to you first. They are good people… or might be… despite how they look.”

Gearing tilts his head. “So if I try to talk to them and all they do is hiss and slobber and try to eat my brain, kill, otherwise let them go about their business?”

Handy snickers. “Sounds about as good as any description… don’t worry… you’ll know the difference when you see them. It’s hard to describe… but you’ll know.”

Gearing has his reservations, so he decides he’ll stick to some of his old training for rules of engagement. “So, about the extra pair of eyes?” Gearing asks.

Handy looks over at Sarge and says, “Sarge, you go with Gearing and keep him safe. I’m transferring temporary combat access to Gearing. Don’t attack anything unless Gearing tells you too, or it attacks you first.”

Sarge looks at him and says in an impressively mocking tone, “Yeess ssirrr.”

Gearing nods ahead, then leads the way, with Sarge following closely. He has to go through some locked doors, that the stable unlocks for him with Sarge’s requests, before they turn down a ramp and go into a door to the reactor level.

The reactor area is dark, dank, and in serious need of help. Just looking around he can see hours of work racking up, but, first, he needs to make sure the area’s safe before he gets started. Don’t need to get into the middle of something delicate and have to stop because some zompony is trying to have fillet of Gearing.

He looks at Sarge and motions towards the center of the room, where several pieces of equipment surround an open area. “Make sure the area’s secure, we’ll draw them out and take them together as a team. But, if I say retreat, we fall back and lock the doors behind us.”

Sarge nods and laughs as he rears up and raises his forehooves high in the air. “Oh yeaaaahhh! Sweet fulfillment! Come and get me you muckrakers!!!” Sarge begins blaring an air raid sounding siren, and magnifying his voice to be an ear splitting volume as he bolts to the center of the room. “I’m right here, you zebra loving maggots!” A moment later he zips around and looks off into the darkness at his side. “Yes! Yes! Come and get me! Time to squish!”

Gearing slinks through the shadows at the side, being careful as he advances. He can’t help but smirk at Sarge. He’s playing by the rules, but found a way to bypass them. A loophole. He’s annoying them into attacking him, thus triggering his self defense combat parameters. Smart.

Gearing is a little perplexed by what he sees come out of the shadows, in a small horde at that. Praying mantises. He remembers them from when he was a kid. But none quite this big. About the size of his foreleg cannon, if not bigger. And those claws are like razor blades. They jump and attack Sarge, slashing into metal all over, actually puncturing the armor plating in some places. Gearing is actually more worried about these bugs than all of those Gunners combined. Just look what they’re doing to the protectapony!

But, he’s no protectapony, and a hell of a lot smarter than this one, for sure.

Gearing zips out of the shadows, just quick and far enough to get the end of his stun rod to the back of one of the nymphs attacking Sarge, then hitting the button for only a moment. The giant puff of smoke and the creature falling over the moment the electricity kisses them lets Gearing know that they don’t have a particularly strong fortitude, but numbers are a problem. He practically swims through the darkness, popping out at opportune times to attack when others won’t notice him. By the time they are done killing the first six, Gearing’s feeling pretty good about their odds. Then things got really shitty, really quickly as either Sarge’s targeting had taken a hit, or a nymph had gotten ridiculously lucky in dodging.

Either way, Sarge’s stray energy shot struck a piece of equipment, and various alarms start going off. The radiation alarm being the most problematic as warnings spew out of the various consoles about the impending danger. He has to abandon Sarge to fight the remaining nymphs alone as he examines the damage. Quickly looking back and forth, Gearing makes a snap decision, and jumps back into the fray long enough to put down the last two nymphs. Though the reactor needs his attention, the robot was losing, and starting to look rather rough, regardless of how much it was cackling in pure delight.

After the last bug is crushed under hoof, Gearing begins repairs on the console. A junction had fried, causing a miniature explosion, and a collection of wires were left disconnected and sparking their distaste of the change of events. He opens up a panel on another console and cannibalizes parts to make the quick fix.

A few moments later, Handy comes running into the area wearing a hazmat suit, and looks around at the room. He yells as loud as he possibly can, “Report!”

Gearing looks at Handy, closes the panel, and the alarm for the radiation leak ceases a moment later. He stares at Handy and grins. “Everything’s well in hoof.”

Handy looks around then yells out, “Sarge! Shut that noise off! Now!” Sarge grudgingly obliges then Handy walks over to look at the console and asks, “What happened though?”

Gearing points at the bugs. “We came in here to get some work done, and ended up fighting those things… One of Sarge’s beam weapons missed and hit this console. I’ve fixed it, for now, but we’re going to need some spare parts in case something like this happens again in the future… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Handy looks around, opens the panel, takes a peak in, then looks at Gearing as he asks, “You did this? In the short time that it took me to get my suit on and get down here, you got it fixed?”

Gearing shrugs. “Killed a couple of the bugs in that timeframe too… yeah.”

Handy closes the panel then looks at him dumbfounded. “How?!”

Gearing puffs up and straightens his wings at an angle, “Because I’m a Glorious Bastard!”

Handy looks over at Sarge. “Is he lying?”

Sarge shakes his head, throwing out sparks. “Negative. The zebra lover assisted me in glorious combat with the bugs and they went squish! Baaahahahha! He stole a couple of my kills out from under my hoof, the bastard, then made the repairs to the console. Radiation leak stopped.”

“There really shouldn’t have been a leak from that hit.” Gearings adds, “My guess is there’s other problems, serious problems, that need to be fixed, but we should be good for a little while.”

Handy shakes his head then looks at Sarge. “Sarge, how are you?”

Sarge rocks back and forth with his forehoofs in the air. “I am glorious! I got to exercise my combat inhibitor, and squish the zebra loving maggots! Yes! Baahahahah!”

Handy looks at him for a moment, with the deep gashes and wires hanging from his chassis. “Sarge, report on your operational efficiency, now.”

Sarge laughs again. “Baahhahaha! I am operating at a glorious 32 percent efficiency!” A wire swings, and hits another area, sending out a spark and making Sarge shiver. “31 percent efficiency! Bahahahah! Squish more bugs!”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes and says, “Sarge. Combat maneuvers over. Report to maintenance immediately for repairs.”

Sarge turns and starts heading back up. “Yes! Good idea! Reload, repair, then reap the zebra lovers!”

Gearing starts heading in the same direction as he comments, “I’m going to find another area to work on while he’s getting fixed. I was right. I at least need someone watching my flank while working. Oh,” He pauses midstep as the thought crosses his mind, “Can you tell him to not use projectile weaponry inside unless he’s ordered to? His stray shot did far more damage than these bugs did.” He checks his pipbuck before he continues walking and adds, “Radiation levels aren’t bad, I stopped it in time. But, I’ll come back later to clean it up. Seal the area so no one gets contaminated.”

Handy trots after him as he grumbles. He doesn’t particularly like being told what to do. Even if what’s being said makes a lot of sense. Can’t anypony just ask him for once?

Footnote: Primary Node query timed out. Attempting secondary. . .

Secondary Node Not Responding. . .

Alerting local intranet for assistance, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

Thanks to everyone that's been helping with the story, from giving me ideas and thoughts to actually taking the time to give it a a peek and help me fix typos and other editing issues. More eyes DEFINITELY help, and your help is truly appreciated!

-Quillsy

6 Bug Stomping

Gearing and Handy return upstairs and continue walking the same path as Gearing heads to his next highest priority repair target. They start splitting up at the decontamination chamber to the medical bay, but pause as Swift exits out with Apple Armor close at her side in mid conversation.

The sight of the light orange colt puts a smile on Gearing’s face. Since being brought in he’s obviously had a bath and been treated by either Cure or the medical pod. His ocher mane and tail, no longer matted with filth, practically shine with health. The rags he’d been wearing have been replaced with an oversized Stable 68 jumpsuit. Presumably for the pockets judging by a few bulges and an extra pouched belt that’s being used to tighten it to himself across his chest. As they are passing Gearing can make out clearly, for the first time, the red apple on a white shield on Apple Armor’s haunches, now that it’s not covered with filthy rags and grime.

“Nuh uh! I’m better, the best, you’ll see!” Apple Armor declares.

Swift smiles and gently shakes her head. “Oh, well, we’ll just see now won’t we? And remember what happens when you lose!”

Apple Armor hop-trots for a bit of extra speed before coming down on all four hooves hard and spread out wide a bit in front of her. “Not going to happen!” The grin on his face explodes as his green eyes practically sparkle in joy.

Swift continues smiling and tilts her head away as she says coyly, “Well, I hope a big strong buck like you will keep up your end of the bargain, if not.”

Apple Armor looks off to the side and says a bit indignantly with his mouth pursed to one side, “I’d never lose a hunting contest with some filly.”

Handy looks between the two and asks, “What’s going on here?”

Swift continues past, and pauses a moment to regard Handy. “We’re going outside to hunt. Algae chips are fine for now, but I want some meat.”

Handy and Swift continue on their little conversation while Gearing stands and stares. In a mix of curiosity, and confusion.

Since when do ponies eat meat? Gearing wonders. He’d always had a certain fascination with eating. Morbidly so. While he doesn’t need to eat, or drink anything for that matter, he’s always been interested in ponies’ fixation on food. Yes, they need it for their very survival. But there’s more to it, and even he, with his miniscule world view on the matter, can tell. To him, most food is pretty much the same. Textures come in very few categories for him. Liquid. Soft. Hard. And the ever popular ‘I probably shouldn’t be trying to eat this’ level of tough.

But in his various lines of work, pony watching had become a given. The pony life experience as it were. And he’d had lots of practice doing it, mainly out of curiosity, before even signing up. All of the various conversations on topics that he simply couldn’t understand were an oddity for him to contemplate on. Something called the ‘tinglingly softness’ of certain sheer fabrics that mares had discussed. Many, many, many conversations talking about subtleties in flavor and texture of food. ‘Pleasant crunches.’ ‘After taste.’ ‘Bite.’ ‘Tartness.’ ‘Sweetness.’

The terms were pretty alien to him.

He could feel and taste. But apparently he just didn’t have the ability to detect these subtle differences. He’d come to the conclusion, bitterly so at that, that this curse has dulled his senses. Not in a way that would hamper him doing anything. He has great dexterity, and his hearing is good enough that he can discern a range of tones that would make professional lounge singers jealous. He can feel everything. Especially pain. But as far as any other sensations they don’t have much control range. It’s practically binary in its signals: yes, or no.

Except one particular area of his anatomy, even if it is completely useless for its intended biological function, which gives him the distinct impression that his general sensations are just toned down. Not just that they are turned off entirely. Such as when he’s shedding a part, and it just aggravates him until he knocks it off. The best organic related term he can use is ‘an itch’ which seems to work well enough given other pony’s reactions and commiserations on the situation.

Gearing blinks a few times, and asks as Handy is stepping into the decontamination chamber, now that Swift and Apple Armor have made good on their escape, “Are they going to be okay out there on their own? Should I go with them and provide some support?”

Handy turns around and looks at Gearing through the clear face shield on his suit. “Nah. She’ll be fine. She knows what she’s doing. And, if she needs any help, she’ll ask for it. She has her pipbuck.”

Gearing nods, then turns to head down to his chosen path as the medical door closes, and the decontamination sequence starts. He pauses, and looks down at his pipbuck. He sits down on the floor and sends a message to Handy. A few minutes later the quarantine door opens, and Handy’s already removed his suit, having left it inside the medical bay to dry. Handy looks both directions then walks over to Gearing and sits down.

“What’d you want to talk about, Gearing?”

Gearing scuffs at the floor plates a bit before he asks, “How much do you know about stables?”

Handy waves his hoof around. “Probably more than most ponies. Why?”

Gearing looks at him and asks, “Well you know about the fucked up experiment they ran here, right?”

Handy takes in a deep breath and nods. Then lets out the air in a long disgusted sigh, “Yeeahhh… why?”

Gearing taps Handy to get his attention then says, “I used to work for Stable-Tec. Handy… you only know a part of it. I don’t even know everything. But what I do know, is nightmare fuel.”

Handy raises an eyebrow and asks softly, “And why are you telling me this?”

Gearing points a hoof deeper into the stable. “Because I know Stable-Tec. At least. What certain individuals were capable of. Ethics were nothing more than ink to be looped around… Handy. I’m worried about what’s in this stable. You haven’t cleared out the R&D section yet, right?”

“No, no we haven’t.” Handy shakes his head and asks with more than a slight bit of concern in his voice, “Why? What do you know, Gearing? This isn’t the time for secrets.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes. “I don’t know anything. That’s the problem… I just… highly suspect… or, more accurately, know there is a possibility…” He looks at Handy and says with a sigh, “Handy. They weren’t above experimenting with chemicals and diseases. I don’t know what could be down there. But, I do know it needs to be checked.” He points a hoof at Handy and pushes him slightly. “And I’m going to have to be one of the ones to do it. Me and Sarge. I don’t even trust a hazmat suit down there… If any of you got infected, we could have a pandemic on our hands before we knew what was happening.”

Handy stares at him for a moment, but says nothing as he mulls it over.

“Worst case scenario is everyone in the stable dies from contamination,” Gearing offers, unkindly. “I can’t be affected by any of that. I’m the best choice.”

Handy runs a hoof through his mane as he looks down. This is potentially a large can of worms to open up and he’s in no big hurry to mess with it. He looks at Gearing and nods. “Okay, we’ll get on that once I get Sarge up and running again. Wait till then. Okay?”

Gearing nods. “Given how we got jumped by those bugs the last time going into the lower levels, I wouldn’t feel comfortable otherwise.” He looks at his pipbuck, then shows Handy a section of the map. “There’s a lot that needs to be fixed in this section… How about I go pick a room over there, and I can work in that area while everyone else sleeps? I’ll be able to open up more of the stable for use and give the kids somewhere else to be instead of the medical bay beds.”

“Sure.” Handy nods and pats him on the shoulder. “Go ahead and get to that while I go to maintenance and start working on Sarge.”

The two split off, and Gearing heads down a darker section of the stable’s upper floor. This area had been cleared out apparently, or at least checked for hostiles. The debris moved around and the various doors recently sealed lets Gearing know that someone’s already done a pretty good job of doing a security sweep of this sector. He does likewise, going down the entire hallway, checking all of the doors, and making sure they are sealed, before picking a random door on the left side of the hall to start. He pulls out his stun rod, and uses his maintenance authorization code to unlock the door. The light inside flickers on, but only one of the lights stays on as he sweeps his eyes back and forth.

He enters slowly, stun rod at the ready, and taps on his pipbuck’s light. He walks carefully, checking the entire area. And, just to be sure, clicks on his E.F.S. which glitters across in front of his eyes. It comes back entirely clear. In all directions. In fact, he doesn’t even see the other ponies he already knows are in the stable with him, and figures he must be far enough away with enough material between them that it can’t detect them.

That’s one of the reasons he never really liked the damn thing. Ponies got killed from relying on it too much. It had it’s usage, but he’s learned through experience and training to not rely too heavily on technology or magic. His instincts have served him far better. After checking the room, and deciding its safe ‘enough’ he goes ahead and closes the door to the hallway.

But doesn’t lock it.

If anything comes, they’ll have to get through the door first. Opening it or otherwise, and that’ll give him time to react. And, if anything is already in here with him, it’ll let him get the hell out of there lickety-split without having to wait for his authorization override to work on the lock.

This room seems like many others he’d seen before in various diagrams. He remembers working on similar rooms. Usually during his ‘down hours’ when waiting on someone he was supposed to meet to wake the hell up. It’s a standard room for a single occupant with a bed, and bathroom and very minimal furnishings.

The mattress seems serviceable, if old and musty. At least no one’s died on it. That’d cause all kinds of problems. He starts by cleaning out the various debris in the room. The old packaging and scraps and out right dirt get scooped and placed in a metal crate that he sets by the door. Maybe he can do something with that later. At the minimum he can sneak it outside the stable and scatter it to the wind. Not like anyone would notice a little more dirt in the dump yard known as Equestria.

He flinches. That thought hurt.

He busies himself by cleaning and organizing the room as he vows that at the earliest opportunity he’s going to find out what the hell happened. Of the various recyclables, or general items that he doesn’t add to the dump box, he gets a pile of glass, metal, and other various dishes and items that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. But wants to double check with somepony more experienced with the current economy before he starts breaking them down into spare parts or scrapping them. The coffee cups in particular would make excellent resistance wafers for electronics and electrical work. Crude, but functional. He’s even pleasantly surprised, and amused, when he finds a small collection of bottle caps in the trash, and mixed in with the variety of other debris. He can’t help but be happy in the knowledge that, obviously, he wasn’t the only one that this idea was new to. He wonders how long after the war did this catch on. It must have been a relatively new thing. Maybe a wasteland agreement somewhere? Stable dwellers obviously gave no shits about the caps.

As evident by this stallion’s creative uses of them by apparently throwing them at every wall or other object in the room. Judging by how they seemed to be wedged in a variety of crevices and under every piece of furniture.

How the hell did they even get this much bottled sparkle in here? Or booze for that matter? Gearing couldn’t understand how that’d be such a high priority. Although he wonders if that was part of the experiment too.

After cleaning out the room in general, he moves on to another room and begins expanding out his little cleaning odyssey. In the room he’s dubbed as his he starts gathering a variety of shelves, tables, and work space by taking the furniture from some of the other rooms. His piles of ‘goods’ grows to the point that he uses the room across the hall as an expanded storage, with the intention of keeping the working space in his room.

It might seem presumptuous of him to basically lay claim to this entire sector, but not like anyone else is going to want any of this anyway. Plus, he’s going to need a good portion of these items to make the parts, to make the components, to repair the equipment, to fix the stable. Yup. Makes perfect sense.

Exhausting sense.

But, ‘idle hooves are the tools of the zebras’ or at least that’s how the bigoted saying that got passed around by the Ministry of Image went.

He flips the bed on its side, and scoots it and its mattress out of the way. He doesn’t remove it. However, he’s not likely to use it often. If ever. Especially without some major overhaul of the frame to be able to handle his bulk. But, he’d like to have the option at least. Even if it is just the all-too-thin-for-him mattress on the floor. So, for now it can sit on its side and take up as little space as possible.

He starts going through the small appliances that he’d commandeered from the surrounding rooms, and starts taking inventory of their components. Taking them apart and breaking them down to components will take time. Time that he certainly has, but, currently, his time is better spent elsewhere. He figures it’s better to make the list, then he’ll know where to come in case he finds he needs one of the parts. Because, if nothing else, the appliance itself may be worth far more than the sum of its parts.

The sudden very real application of the idiom strikes him, and he pauses for a moment to appreciate that fact before he goes back to working on cleaning a circuit board that had been ripped out of some computer and left in a debris pile in an adjacent room. His ear twitches, and he looks up at the air ducts’ vent directly above him as dread starts creeping across his gears in a cold breeze.

A high pitched wail greets his twisting ears. A scream. But from far away. Carried through and bounced around inside of the duct. One like that of a young foal. While it takes him a while to process the exact source of that kind of scream, the sound that clicks true far sooner is one that’s far closer.

That of scraping metal and multi-legged skittering.

A moment later the air duct vent cover comes flying down as a large, huge even, six-legged brown insect comes crashing through the breach. He used to poke fun at a filly he knew that was terrified of roaches. How she’d screech. And her hair would stand on end, and she’d flee in an unabashed stampede for the nearest exit. Every. Time. And how he’d laugh and laugh and laugh. Good times. Good times.

This was not good times and now he suddenly found himself silently apologizing to the long dead filly.

These roaches were massive; he’s seen foals smaller than these things. And they were angry, and, apparently, very, very hungry.

The first one was relatively easy. It didn’t even know what was going on; it just fell through the ceiling. And, thanks to the slight warning courtesy of the noise, Gearing had already drawn his stun rod. The giant radroach had been zapped repeatedly, with high voltage, and cooked in its own shell, before even hitting the ground.

The others weren’t so easily surprised.

Seeing, and more likely smelling, their comrade fall into a roasted (and possibly delicious?) heap caused the others to start concentrating and pouring out of the vent. Heading straight for Gearing.

Now it was his turn to scream like a little filly.

Gearing spins, bucking and stomping, while swinging around his stun rod as fast as he can, knocking a slew of them off of himself, and sending others flying in the process. One that falls at his hooves has a flank load of whoop ass dropped on it as Gearing stomps down and causes it to explode in a disgusting sloppy mess in every direction. He taps the coms button on his pipbuck as he’s fighting, hoping to at least warn everyone else of what’s coming.

“Stable-Tec!! Priority One Alert, hostiles have infiltrated the stable! My location. Need help!”

Despite them being bugs, the incisors start biting into Gearing’s sides, trying to find purchase. In some instances, they do. The metal breaking, bending, and coming apart in small cleaves as if the roaches are using a pair of tin snips. He slams sideways into a wall as he screams in pain, squashing two on that side, and having more bite at his legs, neck and back. He steps into an open area, near where his bed had been, and shakes the monstrous roaches off with a quick spin, then he springs back and takes up a two hind legged pose that looks more fitting for a ballerina on stage. When the roaches charge at him in their next attack wave, he jumps at them, angling his wings and hitting several of them repeatedly with wing and hoof. One of the roaches gets hit just right, and gets cut in half cleanly by one of Gearing’s wings. The other wing gets a jagged splashing of roach meat from him going at the roaches the wrong way with his wings.

He aches. He hurts. And he’s not sure he’s going to get out of this.

He snorts, and stomps a hoof. He refuses to have survived the apocalypse, just to die to a bunch of overgrown pests! Getting swarmed is no excuse, dying that way would be just plain embarrassing.

He jumps at them again, actually tucking his wings in and using his weight and momentum for once, smashing several of them as they tried to grab him and hang on with his roll, but couldn’t handle his weight pressing them into the ground plating. He hops up and bucks one, zaps a second one with his stun rod, sending it flying near the door, then comes smashing down on two others as he turns to look at the roach that he’d zapped, but wasn’t quite dead yet. It rolls upright off its side, smoking from the shock, and starts scrambling after him. Gearing repositions his hooves, stomping down on the head of one that hadn’t quite entirely died yet as he stares at this worthy foe and growls, “Come and get it you greedy-“

A figure jumps through the opening door as a light gray mare comes flying into the room. She springs off one of the walls, with one hind hoof on the wall and the other three on the desk she’d landed on just inside the door, the mare’s head had already picked its next jumping target before she’d landed, and springs for it, going up enough to kick off the ceiling and punch the smoking roach with a metal object on her hoof. She hops around, taking in the seen quickly, and stares at Gearing.

She straightens up a bit and asks, “You that metal fuck Handy told me to come save?”

Gearing stands there, covered in roach mush, and grumbles, “I suppose… Thanks for the help…?”

She trots around in place and grins. “Yeah. I’m great… now it’s time for my reward!” She heads out the door, flicking off the goop from the roach as she sings to herself. “Gonna get me some of that tasty, yeah. Yeah. So sweet and delish, it’s my favorite dish oh yeah. Some Naaaahlah for me, just you wait and see, oh yeaaaahh.” As she trots out with a swaying dance, her rust colored mane swings back and forth opposite her apparent barbwire wreath of flowers for a cutie mark on her haunches.

Gearing watches her, with his ear raised and twitching slightly. He looks up at the air duct and points at his eyes, then at the air duct with a wing tip. “I see you mother fucker. This is some government funded lowest bidding contractor shit right here.” He looks around the room, and grabs up some of the roaches. They were talking about eating meat before, maybe this’ll work. He doesn’t know. Organics confuse him on so many levels. And, while old roaches might have been too small to consider it before, these things could make a massive meal… assuming they were edible. He stuffs them in a sack, and set it outside the door.

He turns around and locks the door behind himself, then has Stable-Tec lock all of the doors in that sector until further notice. Gearing opens a communications channel then starts walking down the hall with the sack over his shoulder. He’s extremely paranoid, and is keeping the stun rod in his mouth as he trudges down the hall, pulling it out with a wing just long enough to send his message. “Stable-Tec, this is Gearing. Stand down from alert. Hostiles have been eliminated. I’m heading to the infirmary to get patched up.”

“Affirmative, Technician Gearing,” the voice replies happily and the sirens over head instantly turn off.

Gearing continues down the hallway, feeling absolutely horrible. The roach goop has gotten into every crevice of his body. He’s even discovered what they taste like. Thankfully, his sense of taste isn’t nearly as sensitive as for a normal pony’s, so they simply taste ‘slimy’ to him.

That’s still more than most ponies would want to endure.

His eye twitches as he looks around, and highly suspicious of every air duct and access panel as he makes his way to the medical ward. When he finally gets to the door he takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a huff as he tries to calm down. He steps into the decontamination chamber and sighs, thankful to be away from that hell and glad to be receiving some loving care very soon.

Not soon enough.

“Unknown contaminants detected. Subject Gearing detected. Authorization for Organic Cleansing granted. Decontamination sequence beginning.”

Gearings eyes go to their widest as he screams, “Wait! No! No- Aaahhhhggggg!”

From the inside of the medical bay, and even though they can’t actually see through the sealed door to the decontamination chamber, the group of children look over at the door in horror at the blood curdling scream that comes from the decontamination room.

Through the thick metal door.

The auto decontamination protocol voice cheerfully says, “Decontamination completed, you may now enter.” A ding later the door opens.

A wave of heat pours out of the decontamination portal. The children recoil, and stare, wide eyed and full of fear that only gets worse by the second. Even more so as Gearing steps through the doorway, one slow hoof step at a time. The massive waves of heat coming off of him and distorting the air around and behind him gives him this aura of some kind of demon that had just stepped out of the void and is on a murderous rampage. He scans the room from right to left, until his eyes settle on the group of children. His stun rod is crackling lightly with energy, having been held in his mouth the entire time and him currently biting down on it nearly as hard as he can out of pure frustrated pain-induced fury. His eye twitches, and they can see trails of smoke coming from a variety of places on his body. They could almost swear that fires spontaneously popped into existence and just as quickly disappeared at the ends of a few of his frazzled mane and tail hairs.

To make matters worse, the roach goop that had been all over, and partially inside him, has been scored to practical carbon. The flash burn has turned his entire exterior into a charred being with bits of pieces flaking off, some of which actually floating away on the super heated air currents. The bag that had been at his side is gone except for some carbonized fibers, and the radroach hunks look like blackened pods that might have something remotely edible in the very center.

He looks at the gawking foals, and his eye twitches randomly. He asks with a grin, that gets twisted into something horrible by the stun rod in his mouth and the pain coursing over his body, “Whoooo’s hungry?!” He half growls out the words as he bites even harder on the stun rod.

And, that was it.

The children, all of them, faint from the pure fright of this scene. From all they had witnessed in their life. And all they had endured. Nothing had prepared them for some bastardization of Nightmare Moon wreaking havoc on them in the middle of the enclosed space of a medical ward. So, despite the care and attention they’ve received that has put some in fresh clean clothes and all of them through a pleasant bath, they fainted.

And soiled themselves.

Gearing tosses the scorch fused pile of roach meat on a table nearby and grumbles as he forces the stun rod out of his mouth. “Just fucking great… I’ll clean that up in a moment… I’m still contaminated and have this goop all over me.”

He looks over at the other medical bed, and sees Nahlah, clutching the baby to herself as she stares at Gearing wide eyed. He looks over at the kids, then back at her, and nods towards them. “Sorry about that.”

She flinches at first, and her eyes zip back and forth before she swallows hard and waves it away with a paw and a forced smile. “Are- are you okay?” She looks him over then says quietly, “You don’t look okay.”

Gearing hangs his head and starts toward the back corner, hoping he can program this medical pod to actually function for him. “No. No I’m not. I’m about to fall over actually. Fucking thing thought I was some kind of robot.” He looks over at the table and comments with a morbid smirk, “At least the roach meat should be nice and roasted to perfection now.” He continues back over towards the pod as he says, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m in need of some serious medical attention.”

Nahlah puts a paw to her muzzle then waves him towards the pod. “Sure! No problem! Let me know if you need anything.”

Gearing starts working with the auto doc, and it powers up and encourages him to step in for an evaluation. He spends some time going through all of the data files on the machine, and eventually gets too tired standing there. He connects the cable from his pipbuck to the pod, then climbs in after activating the subroutine of programs on his pipbuck. The pod closes its door, having sensed the presence of someone entering it, and secures Gearing inside.

However, it does nothing.

It takes quite a while for the subroutine to run and reprogram a subsection for clockworks. The medical pod’s voice comes across slightly distorted as it uses patched in code that didn’t quite fit the flow of the original voice recordings. “Greetings Gearing! Anatomy confirmed as clockwork pegasus. Beginning examination protocols of clockwork, please standby.” A few moments later it screeches out an alarm. “Warning! Subject Gearing’s vital signs are outside of suggested range. Immediate attention is required!”

Gearing grumbles and simply lays back, feeling the heat dissipate into the pod from his body as fresh air is pumped into the pod through some bit of arcano-technology.

The voice says cheerfully, “Proper protocols have been received and acknowledge, beginning treatment regimen.”

All of the gizmos inside retract, to a starting position, but then the entire pod begins filling with a mist. A moment later the machine kicks on again and begins the process of healing Gearing.

While Gearing is in the tube, several messages pop up onto his pipbuck, but he’s unable to respond. He can’t move for one, and two his pipbuck has currently taken over the medical pod in order to tell it how to properly treat him. While he’s stuck in the machine, and it spends all the time doing the best it can to heal him, the foal that had been suckling from Nahlah gets a whiff of the smell that’s permeating the entire medical bay, and starts crying. Loudly. And, a moment later, it actually vomits, all over Nahlah, and itself, which makes it cry even louder.

Gearing’s eyes jump open to their fullest as he has a realization of what the scream was earlier. The foal. Nettlekiss’s foal. It was probably hungry. Or something. The roaches of the damned must have been trying to get to the noise. Judging by their reaction of biting anything and everything they’d come across, even his metal ass, their intentions were pretty clear: eat the baby.

His eyes close again with a slight smile. Okay. This was worth it then. He’s already helped her foal. Who knows what kind of problems would have happened had they managed to sneak this far in. Though, that does pose a variety of questions to Gearing that he’s going to have to run past Handy the moment he’s free of the confines of this claustrophobia inducing pod.

The multi-armed hover bot that’s been serving as the stable’s nurse, and Nahlah’s personal handmaid, helps Nahlah clean herself and the baby, then goes about cleaning up the children. It had held its ground, having had Nettlekiss’s foal’s welfare as the highest priority. But, given the change in situation, the care of the other children now come well within its area of responsibility. The white, yellow, and pink bot floats around, picking up a child at a time, removing their clothes, cleaning them, and setting them on examining beds as it clears the area methodically. It puts all of the clothing in a washing cycle, at once, and puts a spare sheet over each of the children, and groups of children in some cases, as it tidies up the medical bay.

Gearing looks around as the pod opens, and notices that the air is especially fresh. The smell of cleaner and air freshener tingles his nose as he disconnects his pipbuck from the autodoc. As he’s closing it he looks over at Nahlah and says with a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He looks at himself and can’t help but feel a bit relieved that the overall treatment had also managed to get rid of the carbonized particulates that were scorched onto his gears and clogging up his movement.

Nahlah waves it off with a paw. “You’re not the one that did it.” She looks over at the kids and frowns lightly. “Poor things have been through a lot. Look. They’re still sleeping.” She looks over at Gearing and shrugs as she shakes her head. “I wonder when the last time they actually had a bed? Ever?”

Gearing walks quietly over to the group of children, and stops near one of the beds. He stoops down and gently brushes the exceedingly floofy mane of the violet unicorn. He looks over at Nahlah and says, “Well, that can’t be helped, but we can make sure they have one from here on out.” He drops down a bit and looks at where he’s pretty sure the face of the filly unicorn is as he asks point blank, “Ain’t that right?”

There’s a long pause, then the sheet covering her slightly moves, just enough to reveal her midnight blue eyes, and she stares at him with eyes wide and full of fright. She examines him a bit before asking softly, “You’re not mad at us?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

She pulls the fabric close to herself and says with a choke, “You were so scary. You yelled at us…”

Gearing slowly reaches out a hoof, she recoils a bit, but watches him as he slowly closes the distance and ruffles her dark purple mane on the top of her head. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t mad at you. Honest.” She hides under the sheet again, but he pulls it back to look her in the eyes again as he repeats, “Honest.”

She pulls it tightly to herself before replying, “What then?”

He sits down and rests his chin on the bed so he can look her in the eye as he says with a smile, “A buncha badun’s wanted to hurt the ponies in the stable… They wanted to eat you foals…” Her eyes get wide again. He tilts his head as he asks, “Remember what I said I’d do if anyone tried to hurt little foals?”

One of the other children, a colt almost the filly’s age, peeks out from under a sheet on a bed nearby and asks from his hiding place. “Kill’em? You said you’d kill them?”

Gearing looks over at the colt and nods. “MMhmm!”

The violet foal purses her lips to the side and asks, “So?”

Gearing looks at her and ruffles her mane again. “Sooo, I killed them. They try and hurt foals on my watch, that’s what’s going to happen.”

The colt stands up out of the sheet and asks, “That’s why you were mad? Because they wanted to hurt us?”

Gearing stands up straight and stamps a hoof before striking a pose with his wings fully extended straight in the air. “Of course. No one hurts foals and gets away with it.”

The kids all jump up from their hiding places and look at him, having been still cowering and acting like they were sleeping to curb his wrath. The violet unicorn jumps on Gearing and hangs from his neck. “Oh! Okay! Thank yoouuuu!”

He brings up one hoof and holds her to him as she nuzzles his cheek. Then he looks around at the others and says with a grin, “Well. Rest easy. I’ve got some more work to do before your rooms are ready.”

They look at each other and the colt from before asks, “Rooms? Our rooms?”

“Yeah.” Gearing shakes his head. “You didn’t expect us to just keep you all cramped in the medical bay, did you? Once I get the other areas cleaned up, you can start staying there instead.”

The violet filly flops down on her rear and looks up at him. “Our own room?!”

Gearing looks down at her and grins. “Yup.”

A couple of the children bounce around and start chattering. A couple of the older ones scurry over and ask how they can help. The violet unicorn chimes in, “Yeah! We can help clean! Let us help you clean!”

Gearing sits down and raises a hoof. “When it’s safe… okay? I need to make sure there’s no more baddies hiding and that no more can get in. Once I’m sure you can help safely… I’ll let you know… okay?”

There are groans of disappointment, but they agree.

Gearing looks at his pipbuck and adds, “I need to have a conversation with Handy. He’s worried. I’ll be back when I can.” He waves at them and heads over to the exit door. The door slides open and, before he walks through, he pauses and looks inside the decontamination chamber from the safety of the medical bay. He opens a channel on his pipbuck and asks, “Stable-Tec… what type of entity is Subject Gearing classified for purposes of decontamination protocols?”

The voice comes from the speaker above the chamber. “Subject Gearing has been allocated to status of Mechanized Automoton due to lack of organic signature.”

Gearing grinds his hoof into the floor plating as he snorts. Then he says as sweetly as possible, “Stable-Tec… Kindly change Subject Gearing’s status to ‘Organic’ for any and all decontamination protocols, until further notice or prior clearance is granted.” He looks up at the speaker and adds, “Use any and all of my credentials to make the necessary correction…”

“Request confirmed. Subject Gearing will, from here on, use parameter ‘desired organic’ for the purposes of choosing decontamination protocols,” the voice replies happily.

Gearing looks at the speaker, raises an eyebrow, then heads into the decontamination chamber with a hint of anxiety. The doors close, then a gush of air whirls around him. A moment later the chime rings, declaring safe for travel, and lets Gearing out into the hall. He stands off to the side, and tries to open a channel to Handy. It takes a while, and after some annoying waiting he realizes that the communications have to be approved by Handy himself.

“When I send you a message, I’d appreciate you give me a prompt reply,” Handy’s voice comes across highly annoyed.

Gearing looks at his pipbuck and turns his head. “I was a little busy trying not to die, jackass. I barely made it to med bay as it is!”

“I sent help!” Handy replies defensively.

Gearing frowns and narrows his eyes at his pipbuck. “Yeah, thanks for that. Though I guess it’s the thought that counts. By time she actually got there she got one swing in on a roach that was already half dead.”

There’s a long silence before Handy replies, “Sorry about that.”

Gearing grumbles and looks at the pipbuck. “’Sorry’? The hell man, you were in the Maintenance bay, right? Why’d you have to call someone and send them instead of, oh, I don’t know, walking down the hall?!”

“I wasn’t in Maintenance. I had something else I had to take care of.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes then waves it around angrily. “Fine. Whatever. Okay. Let’s just drop it. We don’t have time for this, we got other shit to worry about now.”

“What’s wrong?”

Gearing looks around, then says into his pipbuck, “The things came out of the ventilation shaft… I think they were drawn by the foal’s crying… Handy, something’s wrong with the entire ventilation system if something that big could get through without some kind of warning…”

“Let me look into something… gimmie a minute.”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck, then around in the hall, and starts wondering how many vents he’d actually need to take care of. Welding them in place might work. But that’s only a stop gap measure. They could eventually chew their way through, if the bite marks they’d put on his ass were any indication.

“Gearing,” Handy’s voice comes back a bit shakily. “According to the system, there’s large holes in the detection net. Entire areas worth of sensors are down. They didn’t detect anything, because the sensors themselves aren’t there to tell anyone anything!”

Gearing looks at the pipbuck and the implications are getting to him very quickly. He stomps a hoof and asks with disgust, “And, let me guess, the lower levels are entirely down and a nice big hole in Sector C level one?”

“And the entire network in Research & Development… among others,” Handy confirms.

Footnote: Secondary Node Not Responding. . .

Alerting local intranet for assistance, please stand by. . .

Local intranet not responding, seeking alternate reboot procedure. . .

Author's Note

Chapter 6 and some of the stables secrets are starting to come out to haunt the occupants.

Again I'd like to thank everyone that's helped me with the story. This is certainly becoming a beast and I'm probably going to need all the help I can get. So, thank you all again!

-Quillsy

7 Cure's Cure

Gearing puts a hoof over his eyes as he snorts out in frustration. He warned him. He knew R&D was going to be trouble. True, this isn’t exactly what he had in mind. He feared some kind of engineered mutant disease. Not mutated insects. He wonders what kind of research they were doing there, and he starts picturing the entire R&D department being turned into a massive mutant roach nest. He does some quick math, thinking of what he knows of the general size of most R&D sections in stables. Dividing the general volume by the size of the monstrous creatures.

Math. Easy.

D by H by L.

Demons of Hell by the Legions. Equals one terrifying equation.

“Handy, we need to get down there sooner than later to get this figured out,” Gearing says as he’s looking around quickly, half expecting some random insect to materialize and attack him at any moment.

“Already on it. I just closed off the ventilation separating different areas. We’ll be-“ Handy is cut off by a loud fwump sound. Gearing looks at the pipbuck with a raised eyebrow and wonders what’s going on as he hears Handy start coughing, which quickly turns into a hacking cough.

“You alright, Handy?” Gearing asks as he starts wondering where he should go.

He’s unable to understand most of what Handy’s talking about through the coughing fit, and the only word he makes out clearly is “later” before the transmission is cut off.

Gearing doesn’t like what’s going on and debates on the best course of action. He decides that, if nothing else, he’ll keep an eye on the foals while Handy sorts out whatever he’s dealing with. Handy didn’t feel inclined to tell him about what he was working on before, and didn’t clue him in this time either. As he’s stepping back in the decontamination chamber, a massive alarm blares about some sort of contaminate being detected in the stable. Gearing looks around in fear, but relaxes a bit when he gets hosed down with a variety of soap and water. Then air dried. As he’s stepping into the medbay the multi-armed nurse bot comes in from the opposite direction and the door quickly shuts behind it.

As soon as it does the door chimes, “Quarantine has been initiated. Medical bay now locked down until unknown pathogen has been analyzed and destroyed.”

Gearing looks around quickly, then stares at Nahlah. “What the hell’s going on? What’s this about a pathogen?”

“I don’t know.” Nahlah shrugs. “Cure just suddenly took off without warning. She’s normally more up my butt than Ivy, and that’s saying something.”

Gearing tilts his head and looks at Nahlah with a raised eyebrow.

Nahlah giggles, “You know… Making sure I’m eating right. Eating enough. Have the proper nutritional balance… and of course the hormone shots so I’ll keep producing…” She rocks the little bundle up and down a bit as she says with a smile, “Little babe eats a lot for her size…”She looks at Gearing and smiles with a shrug. “But she should be okay to wean to formula and more actual food in a few more weeks. At least that’s what Nettlekiss keeps telling me Cure ‘says’.”

“Cure’s the robot I guess?” Gearing points a hoof towards the exit.

Nahlah nods and grins. “She’s a real sweetie too. Though a bit demanding at times.”

Gearing nods slowly and glances over at the children. His heart sinks as he sees them all huddled together in the middle of the room, looking around unsure and obviously scared. None of them have any idea of what’s going on or why the loud sirens are blaring.

He opens a channel on his pipbuck. “Stable-Tec. Kindly mute the contagion alarm in the medical bay.”

“I apologize, Subject Gearing, but you do not have authority to bypass safety protocol,” the familiar voice of the Stable-Tec AI comes through his pipbuck.

“Who does have authority?”

“The Overmare is the only individual that has proper authority to cancel the alert.”

Gearing rolls his eyes then says into his pipbuck. “Stable-Tec… I’m not asking you to turn off the alarm.” He smirks and continues on, “The alarm volume is at an unacceptable level. This alarm volume runs the risk of damaging sensitive foal’s hearing. Permanently… You hear me, Nettlekiss?”

“Don’t try that shit with me, stallion. I’ve already figured out how you operate,” Nettlekiss’s typically annoyed voice comes across his pipbuck.

Gearing sits down and looks at his pipbuck. “So you know I want to keep the foals safe… We’re already aware of the situation, and you have us sealed in here. So… just turn down the volume in here. You’re scaring the kids.”

“Reducing volume of emergency alarm to 20%,” the stable AI’s voice states. And the blaring alarm drops down to a level that it’s barely noticeable.

Gearing grins into his pipbuck and says partially sing-songily, “Thank you, Nettlekissss… now how about an update on what the hell’s going on?”

His response is a text notification that the channel has been closed.

He looks at one of the speakers nearby and blows a kiss at it with a wink. “Well, we love you too, Nettlekiss.” He walks over to Nahlah and says softly, “If you hear any bugs, or anything that even sounds like a bug… especially from the ventilation, let me know. Don’t wait, okay?”

“Bugs?” Nahlah tilts her head, then starts looking around. “What bugs?”

Gearing looks back at the children and says, “Oh, you know, roaches… mantises… anything that skitters and needs to be squished.”

Nahlah nods with a grin. “Oh, yeah… those bugs.” She looks up at the vents and lays her ears back at the thought of them jumping down on her. “Oh you’ll know… trust me.”

He chuckles and trots over to the children huddled together and asks how they’re doing. They don’t really respond. He tries a variety of methods of engaging them, but they’re having none of it. They’re thoroughly spooked. And, even though he’s there to protect them, they haven’t lived this long by only relying on others. Every now and then he sends out messages to the network, especially Handy, asking for an update, but he gets no response.

The decontamination protocol triggers, and a moment later the bell chimes completion.

Swift and Apple Armor walk into the medical bay, and Apple Armor runs over to join his friends as Gearing walks over towards Swift.

Swift looks around the room, and then her head zips back and forth between Nahlah and Gearing. “What’s going on here? Where’s Handy and why did he have all authority transferred to me when I got back?”

Gearing shrugs. “That’s the first I’ve heard of that. But, there’s some kind of biological contaminate… somewhere… I’m thinking something from R&D got out. But Nettlekiss has the stable locked down and won’t tell me shit.”

“Handy did that,” Nettlekiss’s voice comes over the speaker with a groan. “Not me. He locked down the whole thing till Swift got back and could take care of things.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his face. “Great. Fucker still doesn’t trust me.” He looks at Swift, who’s staring balefire level daggers, and adds, “I can’t get infected with anything! I should have been the first choice to clean this shit up. Instead we’re stuck in here with that shit spreading gods know where and infecting anyone and everyone else.”

Swifts eyes go wide, and she zips around the medical bay. She does a quick head count just to make sure, then she runs over by the door and asks, with more than a hint of desperation, “Nettlekiss! Nettlekiss! Where are my babies? Where’s my children! They aren’t here!”

“They’re safe, Handy made sure of it,” Nettlekiss’s voice comes across cryptically.

Swift sits down for a moment then looks up at a random speaker, “Where are they? I want my children, Nettlekiss.”

Nettlekiss’s voice comes across as soft and apologetic, nothing like she’s ever used on Gearing, or any other stallion for that matter, “They’re safe, for now, but you can’t get to them, not without risking them getting contaminated as well.”

Gearing looks at the speaker and says with a grumble, “You going to actually clue us into what’s going on now, or just tell me to go sit and spin again?”

Nettlekiss grumbles, “Don’t give me any shit, stallion. I’m not the one that set up the lockdown. Not the way it is. But I do have full override permissions and I’m not letting you in that room just to contaminate the rest of the stable. Not going to happen.”

Swift hops to her hooves and screams, “I want my children!”

Gearing waves his hooves around and yells, “Everypony just calm the fuck down! Alright? We can deal with this… I just need some information…” Swift just turns to stare at him with a raised eyebrow that simply oozes contempt.

Nettlekiss’s voice chimes in, “The genius shut areas of the ventilation system. That caused a pressure back up that blasted out some contaminated particles from deeper in the stable… He caught a snoot full of the powder and locked the kids in the bathroom, before having Cure and Sarge restrain him.”

Gearing looks at the speaker and asks with a snort, “Let me guess… the ‘deeper part of the stable’ was from the R&D department?”

“Yup,” Nettlekiss says flatly.

“Called it,” Gearing mutters grimly.

Swift turns around with her eyes wide and pulls her powerhoof laden limb back as she yells, “What’d you do!?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and points at the exit door with both hooves. “I did nothing! I tried to warn him! R&D departments have a host of nasty pathogens. Even if they aren’t using them for some supreme evil, which, given this stable’s history, they probably were. You need pathogens to work on cures and vaccines… but if the containment equipment fails… and all that shit got out…” He leans towards her. “You catching any of this yet? Do you understand my concern?”

Swift lowers her hoof to the ground and starts breathing heavily. She’s feeling rather helpless and this isn’t a situation she likes being in.

“I have a bit of experience with this stuff. What can kill, can cure… But what can cure… well, it can also be deadly in the right doses… We just have to find out what is what. And, for that, I need samples.”

“Not going to happen,” Nettlekiss says sternly.

Swift looks at the speaker and screams, “Dammit, Nettlekiss! That’s my husband in there! My children! Don’t you dare leave them there to die!”

Nettlekiss’s voice comes across as soothing as ever, “They’re fine, Swift. They’re in the bathroom. They have plenty of air. There’s plenty of water. Hell, they have toilet and shower access! They’ll be fine while we figure this out.”

Gearing waves a hoof. “I just said it. The first step is samples. You’re not getting around that, Nettlekiss.”

There’s a long silence as Nettlekiss tries to figure out what to say.

“Your choices are, right now, to either admit that you’re just going to kill Handy… or help us get samples and let me work out a treatment plan,” Gearing says flatly while looking up and to the side with just his eyes at a camera in the corner with a cold glare.

Swift looks at him in abject horror, but the truth of the words starts filling her with a burning hatred.

“That’s not fair, Gearing! It’s not that cut and dry,” Nettlekiss objects.

“Yes, it is, Nettlekiss,” Swift says softly as she looks at the ground. She looks up at Gearing and stares daggers at him as she comments, “He’s cold. He’s brutish. He’s a disgusting pony with no heart to just say that. As hard as his metal hide… but he’s also right.”

Gearing bows towards Swift before sitting down. “I’ll take it. I’ll own it.”

Swift has tears on the edge of her eyes as she chokes out and waves her powerhoof at him, “You’ll own a hoof sandwich in a minute if you keep that up…”

Gearing looks at the speaker and says, “Nettlekiss. I can do this. I’m the logical choice. I can’t be infected. Cure can’t be infected. And Sarge can’t be infected. Though he’s a bit damaged at the moment so I’m not sure he’ll survive typical decontamination protocol for drones.”

“Smart ass stallion. How are you going to get to him? You open that door, and you expose the entire area? And you’re not taking him back to medical. That shit’s not getting anywhere near my foal,” Nettlekiss’s snotty voice snaps.

Gearing puts his hooves together. “Actually, I think the best place to take him is R&D.” He can feel the intense stare of both Swift and Nettlekiss on him as he tries to think of the best way to answer the coming questions.

“You’re kidding? Why would you take him to a place you know is contaminated?” Swift asks with a huff.

“And just how do you plan to get him there? Walk him there and contaminate the entire stable along the way?” Nettlekiss asks with a mocking laugh.

Gearing looks at the speaker and says flatly, “Stick him in his hazmat suit. Then sterilize the room and the outside of the suit… The suit’s designed to keep contaminants out, and healthy air inside… but the system technically works both ways and could keep the contaminants inside the suit, at least until we get him to R&D.”

He looks over at Swift and nods. “And that’s the exact reason we should use it. The equipment we would need would be there. And, the area’s already contaminated, so there won’t be any expansion of that.”

Swift looks down and starts thinking through everything. But Nettlekiss remains unconvinced. “Swift can’t go, then. Can’t have both of them infected.”

Swift stomps a hoof. “I’m going! You’re not keeping me from my husband. Especially if this might be our last time together!”

Nettlekiss’s voice comes out softly, apologetically, “I’m not trying to hurt you, dear. But what happens to your foals if something happens to you too.”

Swift stomps a hoof into the ground, keeping herself from crying. “That won’t happen. Because we’re going to cure him. Right, Gearing?” She shoots him a look that seems like it’s almost as much of a demand as it is a bit of hopeful begging.

Gearing nods. “That’s the plan.”

“This is reckless,” Nettlekiss moans.

Gearing shakes his head. “No. It’s not. We take every precaution, and ensure complete sterilization as we go. This’ll work. With both of them in a hazmat suit, we can get this done with minimum risk.”

Swift looks over at him and asks, “What about my children? I don’t want them locked up in there while we’re working on their father?”

Gearings looks at her a moment, then looks at the speaker. “How small are they?”

Swift stamps a hoof and points over to Nahlah. “They’re foals!”

Gearing nods and smirks, then runs a hoof through his brass mane. “Well… How many hazmat suits do we have?”

“Two,” Swift says flatly. “Gauge had one, but he got a bunch holes in it being stupid. So that won’t work.”

Gearing tilts his head and asks, “Sorry for this, Swift… Nettlekiss, Would you be okay with: putting Handy in his own hazmat suit, torching the vents in the room, seal them, then chemical sterilize the room, then have Cure put the kids in Swift’s hazmat suit, all of them at once, and bring them to medical for decontamination and isolation?”

Swift tilts her head, and Gearing apologizes again.

“I’ll allow it,” Nettlekiss replies. “They shouldn’t need isolation if we follow that well enough.”

Gearing gives a sheepish grin. “They’ll be crowded in that hazmat suit, but they’ll be safer here than-“

Swift cuts him off with a wave and stamp of her hoof. “They’ll get over it. They can handle piling up for a bit. They’re used to it.”

Gearing was not expecting that sentiment.

After the convoluted juggling act with the hazmat suits and various round robins of ‘kill it with fire’, all orchestrated by a micromanaging Nettlekiss, the group manages to make it to the decontamination chamber of the R&D department with relative ease. However, Nettlekiss had made some alterations to the plan. Including a flash burn of their previous quarters that destroyed most of their meager possessions by turning the room into an improvised oven.

After the decontamination process in the airlock finishes, Gearing turns towards Swift and offers, “Stay in the suits. And stay in here. I’ll go in with Cure and make sure it’s safe before you come in.”

Swift tilts her head, looking odd in the hazmat suit, as she asks, “What’s the point in that? He’s already infected?”

Gearing shakes his head. “We don’t know what else is in here. We’ll gather samples, secure everything, and that’ll let us get to work. We don’t need him either getting re-infected if we get him cured, and certainly don’t want him to catch some other deadly disease that might be down here.” He looks at Handy’s unconscious face, and flinches. His lips have been removed, apparently from him biting them off himself. This is worrisome.

Gearing motions for Cure to follow, and the pair enter while Sarge, who’s in a slightly better shape than he had been previously but still considerably damaged, uses restraining cables to hold Handy to the gurney they had used to transport him. It was an extra precaution, given he was currently unconscious courtesy of Cure’s regular and repeated use of drugs. But, judging from what he’d heard, and what he’d seen, Gearing is not liking the chances of this turning out well.

It’s apparently something like rabies. He’d bitten himself repeatedly, and left mouth sized pockmarks on his own forelegs before being restrained by Sarge. Then, with nothing else to bite on, he bit his own lips off before Cure could arrive and knock him out. Worst of all, if what they’d said is to be believed, he was somewhat lucid, like he was trapped and couldn’t stop himself from doing it. He’d had enough presence of mind to lock the doors, and get rid of his own authority to unlock them after ordering the kids into the bathroom.

The worrying aspect of that means, he could very well try to bite others. Meaning he’d had a strong impulse… against his own children. All while being actually conscious of the fact. This disease, whatever it is, is the stuff of nightmares.

One of the reasons Gearing wanted to come down to R&D so bad, was based on a hunch. Without giving any further information, Nettlekiss had gone full-blown maximum-security lockdown mode when this disease was first discovered. Everything was shut out. And she invoked her powers as Overmare to make sure all of the rules were followed to the letter.

Which means the stable already knew exactly what it was, or, at least, had a file on it that was ranked high enough for maximum precautions to be enforced.

Cure floats around, checking the entire area, and declares the room habitable, after flame kissing a few areas. One of the areas draws Gearings attention, and he can’t help staring at it for a few moments. The air vent in a corner above the consoles. The grate on it is missing, and inside he can make out the shapes of a cluster of hatched eggs. Large eggs. Bunched and semi-fused together as if whatever substance that came out with them, acted like a cement to hold them together and to whatever surface they had been laid on.

Cure gave that particular hole a thorough cremation, before moving on to another area. Gearing replaces the vent cover, which he finds on the ground near the consoles, and has Cure give it a tack weld before they go any further.

Despite his fears, the R&D department is not only intact, but the only access points for anything, pony or insect alike, are the air vent, which had just been welded closed, and the door to the decontamination air lock.

In the back area behind a bank of workstations Gearing finds a dead earth pony on the ground, bones long since scattered and gnawed over by whichever creatures. Next to the remains is a 10mm pistol, with a full magazine, short the one shot that had been fired. His first impulse is that this was an obvious suicide case, though he didn’t know why.

He confirmed the hunch as soon as he gained access to the earth pony’s work terminal. Hopping from terminal to terminal gives him a clear, and grim, picture of what had taken place in the stable. Of all the things that could have caused the stable’s collapse, so much more so with the horrible experiment that was taking place in this particular stable, it wasn’t the sex crazed maniacs that did it.

Not exactly, anyway.

The terminal entries from Butter Churn, the apparent suicide at Gearing’s hooves, sends chills across his shoulder gears:

Last Day
It happened today. We all knew it was coming, but hoped it never would. Bombs fell. Ponies died. Momma. Pappa. My old hoofball team. Everypony else. All gone.

They used to give me a bunch of shit for being interested in science. But, who secured a job that got them into a stable? I hate to seem petty about it, but really. I’m alive, they aren’t. Just wish they’d done more with their lives than they did. But, as much shit as they gave me, I knew it was good natured ribbing. And, at least on some level, they were jealous. Earth pony farmboy like me getting in on a scholarship? Didn’t happen often.

But, it’s time to start working on the future of Equestria, which starts right here. In this lab. My first task is to help medical determine the health and fitness of the population, and then continue with the provided research on different cures and treatments.

Strangely, the equipment is already powered up and, quite obviously, been used recently. Some of it is still going through various processes. I’m eager to know about my colleague’s project.

Horseapples
Someone screwed up somewhere. While doing a census and getting samples from everyone to make sure no one came in with one disease or another we made a very unfortunate discovery.

This stable has a single mare in it.

Genetically speaking, we’re doomed. Maybe if someone has a spell for gender switching or some way of moving foals around. There was a surrogate spell that could transfer the fetus from one mare to another’s womb. Maybe if we find something similar and develop a way for them to artificially gestate them.

I brought my concerns up at the science meeting with the Overstallion. There was a pompous unicorn prick there named Blackbriar. Seemed really creepy. Also wanted to entirely discount my ideas because of my accent. So, I haven’t been able to lose my farm drawl. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the badge I wear of my family, and I’m not even going to try and lose it anymore. It’s all I have left of them.

Bad to worse
The stables already falling apart. Murders. Rapes. Nettlekiss is getting the worst of it, obviously. She’s had more medical supplies used on her to keep her alive than probably the rest of the stable combined.

Some big buck tried it with me. He found out why it was a bad idea to corner a farmboy hoofball player. I threw his sorry ass in the decontamination chamber, after breaking three of his legs, two of which were compound fractures, and let it run a couple cycles. Those chems couldn’t have felt good. Serves him right

But that makes me worry about myself as well.

We have to find a way out of this. Ponies aren’t supposed to be like this!

Nettlekiss is gone
I would like to think Momma would be proud of me. I know Poppa would be.

Her getting raped had become such a regular thing it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ but who with. Turns had been established and they’d even used them as betting chips in card games!

I couldn’t leave her like that, so… I got enough private time with her that I made her an offer. And she accepted.

Her foal, as underdeveloped as it was, was put into stasis in a hidden part of the maneframe room. Nettlekiss herself, with the help of myself and an amazing gay unicorn gentlestallion, was uploaded into the computer system of the maneframe. It was the only way to free her from it. We removed all of the equipment so no one could tell what had happened, then left her body in the maneframe room. Propped up against some shipping crates.

As much as I would love to give her a proper burial, or at least a cremation, this is the only way.

War 2.0
When her body was discovered, the stable went mad. Even more than it already was. Fighting has slowly escalated to full blown skirmishes with stallions taking sides and claiming territory like some kind of animal.

I was wrong
It wasn’t simply a lack of a fuck toy. The stable is sick. In a very real sense. Darling Night, the gay unicorn that helped me put Nettlekiss out of her misery, has been working with me to try and find a cure for whatever this is. Mental faculties seem to slowly deteriorate and the victims slowly descend into madness.

A madness where eating other ponies starts seeming like a GOOD idea.

Darling’s gone
We stayed down in the relative safety of R&D as long as we could. But eventually we had to go out and get some food. This bunker. Stable. WhatEVER you want to call it. It’s not a place of safety anymore. It’s a personification of a nightmare. Blood and gore everywhere. Not just from fighting. Intentionally placed. Like macabre decorations.

We managed to get to a supply storage area, and were on the way back when we were swarmed by a mob of crazed psychopaths. We almost made it, when two jumped on me. I managed to buck them off, but not before one took a bite out of my foreleg. One was impaled on the others’ crude spear weapons and it got them out of the way.

However, it was just enough of a slow down for the rest to catch up, and jump on Darling. They skewered him from multiple directions like a pin cushion and down he went. He tossed me his bag, and the look in his eyes said it all. He knew he was done for. So, I ran. And he screamed.

But, despite the pain in his voice, and how I could tell his lungs were filling with his own blood, his screams were telling me to run. To get away. To live.

It was the studliest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

One of them made it into the R&D department with me while the others were ripping Darling apart and eating him alive. I broke his windpipe with a kick, and just left him thrashing around while he slowly died. Bastard was still trying to snap at me with those wild yellow eyes focused on me when he couldn’t even breathe!

My leg worries me. But I have medical supplies and now I have food stuffs for a while. Plus a volunteer sample for further research.

Darling died a gods damned hero.

Research Crap. Meat Good.
I’m infected. But. I’m okay. I’m not crazy. I can work. Cure close. Maybe?

Protein! Protein is the key! If I just eat enough. I’m fine. See?

That bastard that came in with me. Plenty of food. Just enough to take edge off.

Want to try brain. Soft. Tender. Must be good. Right? No. Need samples. Maybe just a bite? No. I know me. If good, won’t stop. Like Grandma’s pies. I wonder what Grandma would taste like? Tough? A longer chew maybe?

Gearing transfers the most recent file, the audio file, to his pipbuck and listens to it quietly with his ear piece as he stares at the terminal screen in front of him.

He’s greeted with the file opening with soppy chewing noises before the stallion’s voice emerges with a thick agricultural drawl to it.

“... Ah’m done… Shoo good.”

More chewing noises.

“Muh meat. MUH MEAT! They can’t have MUH meat…”

Sickening sounding tearing followed by more chewing noises.

“So tasty heh heh hehehehehe.”

A long sad sigh comes through the speaker. “Ah’m sorry, Momma. Ah wanted t’ be a good boy. Like ya said.”

Sound of a pistol chambering a round.

“But Ah’m just not tough ‘nough…”

Whimpering noises assault Gearing’s ear as Butter Churn sniffles and obviously has lost the war of wills against the need to cry.

“Ah gotta save myself now… no choice…”

There’s a momentary pause in sound before he says, “Thanks, Darlin’… Y’know, ifn’ there was any feller that’d flip my barn door, it’d be you…”

A loud gunshot echoes in Gearing’s ear, with the recording even catching the reverberations off the inside of the R&D department walls. The unmistakable sound of a pistol clattering down to and across the ground precedes a meaty thud as a wheeled office chair goes skittering across the floor.

Then a lot of silence before the audio cuts off from no further input after a while.

Gearing slowly shakes his head as he removes the earpiece and looks around at the nearly two hundred year old scene around him. Despite what all he’d thought, this wasn’t even in the roster for the reasons for the stable’s collapse.

They were no longer sex crazed by time their full fate was sealed. They had other concerns. They had other worries. And they had other reasons to fight and kill each other.

The flesh of their fellow ponies.

This disease was insidious. In its earlier stages, it took a long time to manifest. But, there were a few cases where the person accelerated through the symptoms much quicker than typical. The advantage of this was that is was quickly spotted and able to be dealt with. The disadvantage was that it could spring up spontaneously with no warning.

With the typical cases, it would take much longer for incubation, and behavior started changing, gradually. This was problematic because they could infect far more ponies before it was realized they were infected in the first place. Especially with the rampant fighting and sexual assaults.

In one of the terminals, one of the lab technicians had a theory that the rapidly advanced cases were, in actuality, artificial in nature. That they were engineered to act as fast as they did and that it was actually a weaponized version of it. The lab technician admitted what a grim possibility that was, but he couldn’t think of any other reason that there would be such a stark contrast between the two pathologies.

With the speculators files, Gearing finds a treasure trove of information for the research that had been done on the disease. And a possible cure. There’s also logs of many samples they had, and the terminal grants access to the long term storage in the back near the workstations.

Gearing unlocks it, and opens the door carefully. He peeks in, and almost instantly regrets the decision.

Science he understands. The need to have working samples. To study. To analyze. To test various synthesized combinations against.

But this would only fit into that sort of benevolent thinking with the widest net cast possible.

There are samples. Yes. Many samples. The racks are full of pieces of ponies. A head here. A hind leg there. On a large tray a torso, just the torso, lays dissected. Next to it are a collection of small lunch sized containers holding many organs. Several of the limbs have bite marks, all of which are pony in origin. There’s one hind leg that looks like it had been bitten repeatedly. Over and over. Over a course of time. It lays half eaten, and parts of the thigh bone were peeking through the dried fleshy coating.

In one small section of the freezer a tray with more sensible samples lays distinguished from the rest. A couple Petri dishes and other items that have many clear markings with dates, times, and sample codes cover the tray’s surface. The rest of the cold storage freezer looks like a cross between macabre decorations and a cannibal’s larder.

Cure floats up next to him, torch at the ready, but waits for him to move. He removes the tray of samples, and looks at Cure. “Hold off on torching the remains. I’m sure they’re infected too. But we might need more infected tissue samples for comparison… The freezer should function well enough to hold in the contamination, but, just to be safe, scorch the outside once I close it, okay?”

“Confirmed, Subject Gearing. Incineration protocol postponed until samples are no longer needed,” the Stable’s AI reports through the surrounding speakers.

He shuts the door then quickly hops away as she uses her sanitization torch on the outside. He sets the tray down nearby, and Cure gets to work cataloging and examining samples as Gearing goes around and gets the rest of the equipment up and running. While working on a particular console, a pulse is sent out, and a notice pops up on the screen.

Programming of Subject: Cure has been detected to be faulty, beginning reinitialization of firmware and updating protocols to latest version…

Gearing spins his head around in time to see Cure stop in mid-transit from one workstation to another, then float down to the ground and almost cease to function as the hover bot starts randomly beeping out codes.

“Really, Celestia? Both forehooves this time? Why not get Luna to lend you a hoof and we can make this a triple prostate examine!” Gearing rears up then comes down and bucks a chair across the room. “Damn it! This is not what I need right now.”

Swift asks from the decontamination room, with more than a little concern in her voice, “Everything okay in there?”

“Peachy!’ Gearing says sarcastically.

A momentary pause later Swift asks, “Anything I can do to help?”

Gearing sighs and waves a forehoof as he looks at her. “Got a time machine hidden in your saddlebag I could use?”

Swift snorts a laugh. “No…”

Gearing grins at her. “Then not really… But I think I’m probably going to have to do this all myself now. Cure just shut down because of some program and-“

He’s interrupted as Cure suddenly pops up, back online, and spins around. Cure looks at him will all three eyes and says happily, “Cure reporting for duty! Have no fear. We shall have this problem solved shortly!” Then Cure flies off and begins working at the testing equipment.

Gearing points a hoof and chuckles. “Never mind, forget I said anything… But, did Cure always talk?”

Swift stares wide eyed and slowly shakes her head.

Gearing sighs, “Greaaaaat… let’s hope this really is an upgrade, and not just a wagon to fuckallville.”

Cure takes over at full speed, soaking up the data from the various sources in the R&D lab. Gearing quickly decides to step out of the way and let the robot do its thing. He wasn’t really sure how helpful he’d be to begin with. He has a firm grasp on various techniques in the process, and synthesizing different substances and compounds. So he could, in theory, use the tangentially related information to make the correct version himself. If he had the proper supplies and instructions to follow. Venom and poisons have their antivenom and antidotes. He knows all about them. So this certainly couldn’t be that far different could it?

Yes. Yes it could. And he damn well knows it. But, what else was he going to do? Swift wasn’t thinking straight, and likely would have gotten the entire stable infected in her irrational attempts. Foals included. Her foals included. Not to mention the other seventeen that would have perished in the aftermath. It’s straight math. One adult buck, verses the lives of everyone else. Hopefully she’ll at least be able to forgive him if she’s sure he tried his best, and Handy died anyway. After it was already done, she’d be able to move on. To take solace in her children.

That’s his hope anyway.

Not that he’s going to just sit on his hooves. He’s not that kind anyway. He’ll definitely try his best, but his best might not be good enough. The odds are not in his favor. He’s not a biomedical technician. His skills are derived from experience with other less wholesome goals in mind. But, there’s still a chance. As long as there’s a chance. There’s hope. And as long as there’s hope, he’s not going to give up.

And then the universe, for once, tosses him a bone.

Cure comes back and looks at Gearing. “I have finished analyzing the data, Subject Gearing. If you would assist me we can begin synthesizing the correct treatment serum.”

“What?!” Gearing looks at her, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Cure points over to one of the consoles with a claw. “They were not in the proper mindset when they were doing the research. Near the end they were doubling up on work and wasting their efforts. However, after combining the results together, I have the process necessary for creating the serum. In theory it should work.”

Gearing nods and starts walking over to the lab equipment. “Great! Just send me what you need me to do to my pipbuck, and I’ll get started.”

“Confirmed.” After Gearing’s pipbuck dings with the arrival of a new message Cure continues on, “However. There is a critical component that we require to make the serum, which we are sorely lacking.”

Gearing’s head hangs as he asks with little hope of a happy ending to this, “Do we need to go get something? What component are we missing?”

“No, no. We have enough to synthesis the serum. However, we only have enough to synthesis two doses, at most. In reality it might only be enough for one individual. Not enough of the dose would simply be wasting it.”

Gearing nods and looks at his pipbuck. “But, we could potentially get more after we get Handy cured, right?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Cure replies. “However, the organic compounds needed have an unknown origin. Nothing in the files explains where they got them from. I’m afraid some of the segments have become corrupted over time. I am unsure where such organic compounds could be acquired. However, should you come across them in the future, and bring them back I am certain we can synthesis more… You’ll just have to figure out what they are based on in-the-field analysis and comparison with the data on file.”

“Well.” Gearing rubs his hoof through his mane and sighs. “That’s better than nothing. And we’ll keep it in mind for later. For now. One fire at a time.” Gearing kicks on a Bunsen burner and starts following the instructions on his pipbuck dutifully.

“Yes, sir,” Cure replies before heading off to another section of the lab.

Cure’s work is repeatedly interrupted by warnings from Sarge, as Handy comes to semi-consciousness. Each time, Cure has to administer another dose of drugs to put him back under, to prevent him from hurting himself and others.

Gearing works silently, with a precision that would make any Ordnance Disposal team proud. He doesn’t screw up by trying to do too much simultaneously. He can only control so much at once, and he knows it. He can’t risk burning anything. Loss of materials could be a fatal mistake. However, with his multitasking skills taking over, he even hops over to manage the work that Cure had been processing each time she has to stop to go take care of Handy. The pair work well, and in the early hours of the next morning Cure finishes the last of the process.

Gearing and Cure look at the small beaker of life, but neither say anything for a few moments as they hope more drips down. But, it does not. After longer than necessary, and Cure giving yet another round of sedatives to Handy, Gearing makes the call, “Cure. That’s all there is…”

Cure bobs one of her claws in agreement. “Yes, sir. By my estimates, if we divide the amount exactly in half, there is a possibility that it would be enough for two doses. But, I cannot know with certainty that this is true.”

Gearing looks at it a moment, then asks, “How much of it would you need, just to keep a sample on file, for further research and synthesis?”

She shakes her claw. “None, sir. We’ve already analyzed it and determined this is the correct serum. Any left in storage would soon spoil as it is rather… unstable.”

Gearing stands back and motions towards the beaker. “Fill a syringe with it, but don’t waste a drop. We’re giving it all to him then. If it’s almost enough for two, then that should be good enough for him.” He looks over at Handy, unconscious, still in the hazmat suit, with just his head exposed, and tied down to the gurney. “Why do damn earth ponies gotta be so big?”

Cure carefully removes the liquid with a syringe. It takes her a while, as she uses the beaker to force out the air, then recollects any fluid that had managed to escape. Once she’s satisfied she moves over to Handy and says flatly, “Subject Gearing, I need you to hold him down, and very carefully, for me to administer the shot.”

Garing trots over, and looks Handy over before he waves a hoof at him. “How hard is it to administer a shot to an unconscious hogtied buck? Just stick it in his neck.”

“No, sir, that will not do,” Cure replies. “The infection is localized in the brain. The shot has to be administered directly to the brain near the brain stem. If he suddenly moves, the needle may damage critical tissue and Subject Handy Hooves may perish.”

Swift’s eyes go to their widest, and she looks back and forth before saying quickly, “I’ll do it. I’ll make sure he won’t move!” She turns Handy’s head, so that he’s looking at her, and begins using her muscle to hold him in place.

“Good. Hold him like that,” Cure confirms before moving forward with the needle.

“Stop! Wait!” Gearing screams as he hops over near the gurney.

Cure freezes in mid movement and turns an eye towards him. “Yes?”

Swift looks over at him and the rage can be seen clearly building up on her face. She already knows that this brassy pegasus has had several run ins with Handy. And he’s way too free with murder for her liking. Even if the ones involved did deserve it. That’s not the point. He’s stopping her love from getting the treatment he needs, and she’s not going to let that go easily.

Gearing waves a hoof, then waves his hooves over Handy. “Hold on. Just wait a second… Swift, do you really want to do this?”

Swift looks at him with her eyes going to their fullest. She can’t believe he’d just said that. Why would he say that? Was he jealous of Handy? Was he trying to get rid of Handy?

She practically snarls at him, “Just why should we? What are you talking about? And don’t try any of your manipulation shit, Handy and Nettlekiss already warned me about that.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes, then says as evenly as he can, “Look, I know you all don’t trust me. I don’t entirely blame you, but there’s just something you need to know.”

She snorts. “And what’s that?”

Gearing points a hoof at Cure. “That’s it. That’s all we have.”

“Then give it to Handy, how hard is that to understand?!” she screams out at him.

Gearing leans forward and says as flatly as he can, “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“You just wanna kill Handy!” Swift screams in response.

Gearing looks at her and tilts his head. Tick. Tick. CLICK.

“Swift. If I wanted him dead. He would be.”

She grinds a back hoof into the floor. “I wouldn’t let you hurt him. You won’t get away with it.”

Gearing sits down and points a hoof at her. “Not me. You.”

Her eyes go wide, and she freezes. This is something she needs to sort out. Now.

Gearing folds his forelegs across his chest and says as he raises an eyebrow, “You were too busy arguing with Nettlekiss about getting in that room. It wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t have gotten this far.” He shrugs and grins at her. “If I wanted him dead… All I had to do was… nothing. You would have taken care of that yourself pretty assuredly, and I wouldn’t have had to raise a single hoof.” He leans towards her and grins. “Thanks to you, he’d be as dead as sure as my ass is shiny.”

And that was the limit of her restraint, as she hops over and swings, coming in full contact with Gearing’s jaw. He saw it coming. He knew it was going to happen. He was ready.

And he let it happen.

Footnote: Alerting local intranet for assistance, please stand by. . .

Local intranet not responding, seeking alternate reboot procedure. . .

Internal failsafe activated, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This, Chapter 7 was one of the chapters that I had a raised eyebrow on if I needed to put a CW on it for a specific section. The think the general tag for the story may be enough, if not please let me know and I'll apply that version of CW using the spoiler mechanics.

Thanks to everyone that's helped me with this project and to Kkat and Somber for their fabulous works that have inspired this piece.

-Quillsy

8 Seized Opportunities

Content Warning: Sexual Assault (survivor journal)
Under recommendation, I'm erring on the side of caution and putting an additional CW on this chapter, with specifics on a few of the terminal entries. Please skip the blacked out "spoiler" section to avoid and resume after the horizontal rule.

A spark flies off Swift’s power hoof as it skids along Gearing’s muzzle and knocks his head to turn sideways.

He blinks a few times, with his head looking in the other direction, then turns back to look at her as he re-adjusts his jaw by opening and closing his mouth a few times. He looks her in the eyes and asks, flatly, “Thanks for proving my point. Feel better?”

Swift waves her hoof in his face threatening another blow as her eyes fill with tears. “You shut your whore mouth!”

He leans towards her and asks, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She pulls back her hoof for another swing as she yells, “I’m warning you!”

“Your foals,” Gearing says it like a magic word that does indeed have the power to paralyze her.

She wavers a bit, but asks, “What about my foals?”

Gearing puts his forehooves together and takes in a deep breath as if he’s praying. He lets it out as he opens his eyes and looks at her. “You have a decision to make here. Don’t kill the messenger. You have to pick. And I can’t be the one that does it. I won’t make that decision.”

She starts softening as she looks around the room and at the floor. “What- what decision?”

Gearing points a hoof over at Handy. “Who you care more about… Handy or your children.”

She practically spits as her eyes go wide. “What kind of sick sadistic shit is that?! How can you try to make someone pick like that?!”

Gearing keeps his posture and says softly, “Swift… you’re children were in the same room as him…” He tilts his head and asks, “Did you even think about that? There’s no way to know if they’ve been exposed. Not yet anyway. If you give all of that to him now, there’s a chance you’ll lose all of your children.”

She snorts and looks off to the side. “Nettlekiss? Has there been any sign of infection in the children?”

“Nope,” Nettlekiss says flatly. “But for being a bastard stallion, he’s got a point.”

Gearing looks up at a speaker and grins. “Hey, that’s Glorious Bastard! Say it right!” He says with pride as he shoots his sparkling wings up in the air.

Swift looks at Gearing and asks, “What the hell is your game this time, Gearing? Don’t try any of your half truth shit. I want to know for real.”

Gearing looks at her and gives a mischievous grin as he folds his wings neatly at his side. He sits as properly as he can and closes his eyes before he says, “I don’t want to be the one getting blamed.”

Swift tilts her head with an eye half closed. “What?”

Gearing points a hoof at her. “You guys have taken nearly every opportunity to shoot me the stink eye. It’s like you’re just waiting for me to make a mistake… Shit, you literally just accused me of trying to kill Handy, despite the fact that I made the cure.” He sits back and practically sneers at her. “So you’re not using me as a scapegoat for this one. Oh hell no. All I’m doing is giving you all of the information about the shitstorm you’re in. Making you fully aware of the situation.” He slaps his hooves together, brushing off imaginary dust before throwing them out to the side and setting them back onto the floor. “You’re the one that’s going to have to make the decision. I’m washing my hooves of everything… Including whatever consequences come from the decision you make. So… you’re not allowed to blame me for shit.”

Swift’s face is etched with hate, anger, and fear. He’s right, and she knows it, but of course she won’t admit it. But, what can she really do? Beating him into the bulkheads might make her feel better, but it won’t help Handy. Nor her foals.

What about her foals?

Her heart aches. She had been so concerned with Handy that she hadn’t thought about them in danger. She’d thought, somehow, on some level, that they were fine. That they were already out of danger. That they were safe in the medical bay and far beyond all of this. This isn’t fair. This is cruel. Damn Gearing for making her go through this!

She has no choice.

She looks at Cure and snarls, “We’re giving it to him.” She hops over and holds down Handy’s head as she says, “Hurry up and do it.”

Gearing stands up and raises a hoof and waves it around. “And the die has been cast… Good luck.” He turns around and starts exploring the various equipment in the R&D lab.

Swift stares daggers at him. He really is refusing any responsibility for this. She has no choice but to hope, and pray to sweet Celestia, that she’d been right about the children being safe the entire time. They should have shown some signs of infection by now, considering how quickly Handy succumbed to it, right? That had to be a sign that this was the right course of action. She has no choice but to hold onto that hope as she watches Cure ever so slowly jam the needle into somewhere at the base of Handy’s skull.

Swift already knows this isn’t the decision Gearing would have made. And that’s probably why he walked away from it. With tears in her eyes she knows, deep down, that his concern was more for her foals.

The fact that he seemed to have more active awareness to a threat to her foals, than even she did, isn’t missed from her, and she hates Gearing even more for that. Making her feel like a horrible parent. But what’s done is done. And now all they can do is wait.

Gearing putters around the Research and Development department, taking stock of supplies, equipment, and repairs that need to be made. After digging around in the freezer and finding nothing of interest but a metal Mint-als tin with tiny darts in it, which he takes, he confers with Cure. Once he’s sure that none of the components in the walk in freezer are needed to reproduce the cure, he authorizes Cure to sanitize it. He shuts the door once Cure’s inside, but doesn’t lock it, which allows Cure to use the sanitization flame thrower with impunity while not having to worry about damaging anything in the lab or hurting anyone else.

It doesn’t take her long before she reemerges triumphantly from the now soot covered not-so-cold cold storage unit.

Swift is having a hard time staying awake and goes to take off her hazmat suit but Gearing stops her. She looks at him with waterlogged eyes and asks, “What now?”

Gearing waves a hoof around the room. “We don’t know if he’s cured yet. I’m not sure how contagious this is.”

Cure responds cheerfully, “The original disease is only communicable through direct fluid transfer. The only reason he was infected was the particular batch of dust he was exposed to had some sort of fresh fluidic drops in it. Saliva, blood, or some other form of bodily fluid. If we seal the decontamination chamber, and run the sequence again, Swift should be safe to remove her suit.”

Gearing points a hoof at Cure. “Well, there ya go. You guys stay in there, and I’ll start cleaning up in here. But, it probably won’t be healthy for you, so you won’t want to come back in without the suit on. I’m going to be using some strong chemicals. I can’t risk fire damaging the equipment, and well...” He chuckles. “I don’t actually have to worry about breathing any of it. So we should be fine.”

Swift nods lightly, and Cure joins the group by entering the isolation chamber. Gearing watches them zip Handy back up, and the cleaning processes cycle. Afterwards, they open up most of the suit on Handy, and Swift kicks her entire suit off as well. He can’t help but smile as he sees Swift’s eyes jump open, and her hooves wrap around Handy as he tries to lift his head. Gearing can’t tell what’s being said, but given the body language he figures it’s a good sign. He turns and leaves them to it, as his eyes scan the R&D department.

Forget the civilian quarters, this looks like home to him! Everything he needs, except maybe some tools, and maybe some other equipment that he might be able to piece together or build from scratch down here anyway. But there’s plenty of space and, best of all, he’s far from the others so they won’t be bothering him. His smile starts fading as his eyes stall on the air duct vent from before. Something he’d seen before was off, even before Cure had given it the napalm treatment. And something she’d said recently had struck a similar cord of the same file.

“Saliva or blood particles…” he mutters.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He slaps a hoof across his face before bringing it down on his pipbuck and opening a channel. “Nettlekiss! Nettlekiss! This an emergency! Priority one communication alert!”

“I hear ya, you stupid stallion. I can see you too. What’s got your balls in a twist this time?” Nettlekiss’s voice comes from the surrounding speakers in the lab.

He looks around the room and waves his hooves. “Don’t let anypony eat the radroach meat I brought to medical! Have it destroyed! Don’t let anyone even touch it!” He looks at one of the cameras and screams. “It’s infected! That’s how Handy got sick! Radroaches in the air ducts!”

Nettlekiss doesn’t respond, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Cure go flying out of the far side door of the decontamination chamber. As the door is closing he flops on the ground and asks shakily, “Tell me no one’s eaten any?”

“You’re lucky,” Nettlekiss’s voice comes out gruffly. “That older one wouldn’t let any of the kids eat it. He didn’t like the way it smelled. Too burnt apparently. Practically charcoal. It’s still sitting on the same table.”

Gearing lets out a sigh of relief. “Could you let them know not to touch it too? Just to make sure nothing happens while Cure is on the way?”

“Already done.”

Gearing looks up at the camera and smiles. “Thank you, Nettlekiss.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now shut up and stop bothering me, you stupid stallion,” Nettlekiss responds flatly.

Gearing looks at his pipbuck and notices the channel’s still open. He reaches down for the button and says softly, “Love you too, Nettlekiss,” then closes the channel himself. Then looks at the nearby camera with a big grin and waves with a wing.

He begins his first task, at least the one that he thinks is most in need of being done, and begins sanitizing the entire R&D department. He finds a large stock of chemicals in the R&D’s storage area, and can’t help but hop around excitedly. They certainly knew what they were doing and they were stocked for years. Decades. Apparently centuries. Not all of it is still useful, as some of the materials would have broken down eventually, but there’s enough here to make him happy.

Especially since he’s able to make a noxious fume gas bomb capable of filling the entire R&D Department.

He uses a few of the tools and makes sure that the air vents are entirely sealed off, but communicates his intentions to Stable-Tec so Nettlekiss would also know to keep the local air circulation system offline while he proceeded. Gearing pours the last of the premeasured beakers of his new toy into the metal bucket sitting on the Bunsen burner, and watches the reaction with interest.

As the room fills with the thick smoke he trots around and starts organizing things. Then ensures everything has been opened up for maximum penetration. Cabinets, panels, all of it. Any organic materials that could be damaged that he deemed important enough to go through the hassle of saving, he already stuck in containers and puts them in the walk in freezer. Mint-als tin included. He can heat treat them later to ensure their safety. But, for now, he needs to make sure the bulk of the hazard is taken care of.

He flops down at one of the terminals and can’t help smiling. Might as well get some research in while the room practically cleans itself. Sure, no one else will be able to come in to bother him while the gas is pouring everywhere. But that’s just icing on the cupcake. Sometimes it helps to be ruthlessly efficient. He works on the terminals for a while, having to get closer and closer to the screen as it becomes harder to read in the thick fog that begins basting the R&D department. But read he does; delving deep into the archives of the stable as he looks into the history of the stable, but whatever tidbits of information he can find of the world above ground before it all ended, and the doors sealed, are the primary game for his interests.

He’s used to working alone. Sometimes it’s an asset in the areas he’d been at. However, he finds an almost pleasant companionship with his co-conspirator. The AI that runs the stable, he learns, is actually separate from the maneframe and Nettlekiss, and has been online for far longer than Nettlekiss has been in the system as Overmare. They talk casually, and the AI seems to take delight in sharing information and helping him delve through the archives to find any relevant data on each subject he looks up. She even goes so far as to prepare him a timeline of events, and presents records in chronological order for him to peruse. At one point, she even offers to read him the reports as he begins the process of cleaning up the residual residue from the sanitization gas.

He’s more than thrilled, and she’s more than happy to oblige. Considering the length of time to go over, it becomes quickly apparent to him that it’s a good thing he doesn’t need to sleep. And he, ever so silently, gives thanks to the universe for small favors. Even in the form of backhanded compliments such as this.

* * *

While Gearing had started his genocidal rampage against all living things present in the R&D department, Handy and Swift worked through their own disaster.

They took him back to the medical bay, still in the hazmat suit, and used the medical pod to do thorough scans of Handy. The results were a mixed blessing, and became something hushed and to be talked about later. The gist of the matter being Handy’s free of the infection, but his brain has had some damage to it. However, as Cure points out, his physiology seemed to be helping him in that regard. That previous tampering with his body had had the side effect of making him more resistant to this type of damage. She took pains to point out that the brains of most ponies that had been infected ended up looking like honey combs with holes all over it. Handy’s damage was minor by comparison, but Cure couldn’t explain why exactly.

Handy and Swift both knew though. Even without the prompting of Cure. They refused to admit it, but it was likely caused by the Institute’s tampering with his body. Their experiments. Their desire to create alicorns had a long list of bodies, living, dead, and some unmerciful combination in between. Their methods were horrendous. Most ponies didn’t survive the process. He probably wouldn’t have if they didn’t escape when they did.

But, all of that is in the past. As much as they try to make it such anyway. Handy’s in no condition to deal with anything, he’s on the verge of a mental break down by the time he’s taken to his new quarters by Sarge. As Swift is leaving the medical bay, a hazmat suit full of wiggly creatures carried on her back and tucked in close with her wings, Gauge walks over from the side and stops her.

She looks at him and snorts in a bit of disgust. “What is it, Gauge? I don’t have time for this right now.”

He waves a hoof toward the medical bay. “You’ve got some secrets, Swift. And I don’t like it, mmkay.”

Swift eyes him, and starts stepping around and sideways to head towards her room. “What’s my business is my business, and you can keep your nose out of it. Whatever it is it doesn’t concern you!”

Gauge walks around in front of her, keeping low as he eyeballs her suspiciously. “Uh huh. Then why is the institute after you?”

“Me?!” Swifts eyes shoot to their widest as she takes a step back from him. “What do you mean they’re after me?!”

Gauge waves a hoof. “They just attacked the stable… I heard from Nahlah, mmkay. They didn’t want me, and they didn’t want the cat… so that kind of narrows it down a bit, doesn’t it?”

Swift looks around and asks, “What makes you think they weren’t after Gearing?”

He tilts his head then stands up. “That protectapony? Why would they want one of those? They have synths!” He tilts his head the other way then brings a hoof up to his mouth. “Though he’s a different model for sure… Never seen anything like that.” He looks at Swift as he half closes an eye. “You really think that’s it? They want some advanced prewar tech?”

Swift shrugs. “I don’t know what else it could be.”

Gauge looks at her and walks around her a bit as he says, “I already know you all escaped them once. And they don’t normally take kindly to anyone that can expose their secrets. Mmkay?”

Swift waves it off with a hoof as she continues down the hallway. “It’s not exactly the best kept secret, now is it? That ship has sailed.” She continues walking down the hallway, as calmly as she can.

After she gets a distance away Gauge yells after her, “I’m not that stupid, Swift… I know you’re hiding something. And I think it’s dangerous. And I’m not going to stop until I find out what it is and tell everypony.” He stands up and leans into the yell as he screams at her retreating form, “Secrets are bad, mmkay!”

Swift pays him no mind as she continues down the corridor. But, as she gets around a corner, and out of sight, she starts picking up speed down the hall. She zips as quickly as she can, straight to her room. Her new room that is. Given the other one is now a burnt out husk.

Once she’s through the door, and it’s locked and secured, she opens up the hazmat suit, and turns it sideways. Out comes tumbling three little foals. They look around, shake themselves off, and then look up at their mother and grin. One of them, a little gray filly with yellow mane and eyes, spins around repeatedly until she sees Handy laying out on the bed. She springs over, bounds through the air, and piles on him as she squees, “Daddy!”

The little mist gray colt with cyan mane bounds over and hops onto his mother’s back where he holds onto her tightly and nuzzles the back side of her neck with his cheek. The third sibling, a yellow filly with light brown mane, bounces around her mother in a circle as she stares up at her with sparkling light blue eyes.

Handy recoils at the child’s touch, and whimpers. Swift walks over, with the other two riding on her shoulders. The little gray filly looks from Handy to Swift and asks softly, “Daddy. Sick?”

Swift nods lightly. “Yes, sweetie. Daddy’s not feeling well.” She climbs up into the bed, and molds her own body over his. He flinches at first, but she holds him fast and doesn’t let him go. A moment later he rolls over, and she buries his face into her chest.

Where he sobs.

The children pile onto their parents, especially Handy. They know he’s sad, and they don’t know what else to do, so they do what they would want. And that is show him the love that they have for him.

This only seems to make it worse. Until he finally leans up and says softly into Swift’s ear, “I’m a horrible father.”

She shushes him. “You’re an amazing father. You protected them.”

He holds her tightly, with his muzzle crammed into the mattress by her ear, and after a few moments he admits the atrocity that he was on the verge of doing. What he nearly did. “I… I wanted to eat them… I wanted to. Oh, Celestia, forgive me, I wanted to eat my own children!”

The kids don’t hear it, and can’t really make out his gibberish anyway. But Swift does. And she holds him as tightly as she can. There’s nothing she can say. She knows this. So she does the only thing she can do, and be the shoulder for him to cry on.

And he does. With a hurricane’s worth of tears and despair.

* * *

By that evening, Gearing had managed to clean up the entire R&D department, of not only the residual residue, but of the other grime and dirt that had accumulated. It was starting to look like a respectable lab again. As a matter of principle, and not having much else to work on, he began to ferry the supplies he’d gathered in Sector C to the R&D department. As a matter of course, he put his ear piece in from the pipbuck, and has continued on with his education as he’s going about the mindless manual labor that needs to be done.

What he’s learned has given him a lot of ideas. But, unfortunately, it’s also made him highly suspicious of his new cohabitants. He’d really rather not have any conflicts with them if it can be avoided, but some just seem to hate his mere existence.

That’s nothing new though.

Apparently, in any century, bigotry is alive and strong. One of the few things that’s seemed to flourish in the wasteland. Now they have so much to be hateful to each other for. So many petty differences.

He might end up having to leave. And sooner than anypony in his position would have wanted. But, he hopes he can stay long enough to prepare enough supplies to last. Making it on the road is entirely possible. Just a lot more problematic.

But still, maybe he won’t need to, maybe they’ll get their head out of their ass and realize how much of an asset he is. It could happen. Really it could. Despite what written history and his luck has testified otherwise.

That’s why having a contingency plan is important, and he needs to get on that soon. Even more so if it has the benefit of endearing himself to the other stable dwellers.

He gives his former room one last look over before turning out the lights to leave. However, once he does, he notices a green flickering dim light behind a pile of debris. He kicks the light back on and sets down the box before trotting over and going through the items.

He uncovers the boxy terminal and sets it upright on the ground as he looks it over. He’d found it earlier, and meant to go through it, but got a little busy with fighting off the roaches. That fight is what apparently knocked the terminal behind the pile and, as the old adage goes, out of sight out of mind.

Gearing starts tapping out commands while looking around warily. He’s already been attacked in this room once, and isn’t looking forward to another surprise from this hellhole of a stable so soon after the first. The password ‘WingBoner’ draws out both a groan of disbelief from Gearing and the personal logs of the room’s prior occupant from the terminal. Despite seemingly only to contain what amounts to a journal, and not the researcher’s actual files, it provides Gearing the final clues of the stable’s last days:

Opportunity
Sometimes opportunity knocks, and sometimes it bulldozes your house and drags you down the street behind it.

As if studying strange deadly diseases wasn’t rewarding enough, the opportunity I’ve been provided with to do so is an extraordinary ray of sunshine. Yes, I know. There’s no actual sun in this place and I might very well die never seeing it again. And ‘opportunity’ may seem stretched when it wasn’t a choice so much as an ultimatum.

‘Work for us in this pit, or starve to death on the surface.’

Although when you’ve been ostracized from the community and blacklisted from anything resembling work or life in Equestria, because of the actions of a greedy sibling, beggars can’t be choosers.

But, as far as ‘homeless beggar’ status goes, I have it pretty cushy. They’ve let me live here while I work on studying this ‘Blood Hunger Plague’. I get a regular stipend. And have no real bills anymore. Though, I still have a chance to make a mark on the world. A real positive one at that. If I can solve this, I might even manage to scrape off enough of the mud on my face to show I’m not a double crosser like my stupid sister. Who knows how many lives would be saved in the process?

I practically have the entire facility to myself. At least until the Omega threat call goes out and the stables are all activated. Then I’ll have nearly a thousand cohabitants. Odds are at least one of the mares coming in will be in need of some companionship, right?

Don’t hold your breath, Blackbriar.

Until then I’ve been using my stipend to stock up on cola, booze, and other frivolities. Why not, right? Not like there‘s anything else to do in this hole besides work.

Though, admittedly, there is something particularly charming about a disease as insidious as this. It’s probably why they want it looked into so far removed from everypony else.

Blood Hunger: Synopsis
This disease seems to have originated from the Zebra’s side of the world. From what I’ve been told, the so called vegetarians have, on repeated occasions, resulted to cannibalism during droughts. I have strong questions on why they didn’t simply move to a different location, instead of deciding to dine on their neighbors, but that is for other more qualified scientists to explore.

My task, whether I wanted it or not, is to explore the consequences of said barbarism.

Some sort of pathogen had been introduced that keeps being passed around. It’s spread through the zebra camps and, if my sources are right, has actually jumped the border to infect soldiers that have been wounded in combat.

Although that’s all been kept under wraps by the Ministry of Image. After all, returning heroes that suddenly lose their minds and decide to eat their spouses would be bad PR for the war effort.

But, unlike some superstitious nonsense about it being curses, there are enough instances for me, and the ones who’ve hired me, to conclude that the disease is passed on via bites. And, most likely, other fluidic transfers. Though on the zebra’s side consumption seems to be the primary mode of transmission.

If the zebras themselves weren’t a threat, the plagues the filthy creatures are dragging with them certainly are.

I’ve been given several samples, and there are a few of our casualties that are being detained to watch the progress of the diseases. Their families have already been informed of their passing. Gods only know when they’ll actually die though. But, this war calls for sacrifices from all of us. They get to die as a noble martyr for a cure that’ll save countless, and I get to toil in a dank hoofmade cave for the same reason. Time will only tell which one of us got the short stick.

Once I figure out what makes this thing tick, I can start trying to throw a wrench into its workings so to speak. Doesn’t matter how I stop it, as long as it gets stopped.

Surprising progress
Diseases are amazing!

Yes, they kill ponies and lesser creatures in horrible disfiguring ways sometimes, but that doesn’t detract from the statement.

This one is particularly tenacious. Insidious. Just. Plain. Wonderful!

We’ve been able to confirm that the disease is not only nonresponsive to a variety of known medical treatments, but that it is also highly resistant to heat as well! It has evolved such that it can actually survive the cooking process, and live to infect the poor souls that consume the contaminated meat. I mean, as ‘poor soul’ as an individual can get where they are cannibalistic barbarians, but, I digress.

I’ve already had a bit of progress in understanding the microbes that cause this. While original reports have indicated that the original disease could take months to manifest, the samples I’ve been working on and tinkering with have shown far faster progression rates.

My tinkering has paid off!

In case one of you Ministry of Morale yuppies are reading this, let me explain.

If I can continue to increase this rate of progression, I could actually make the disease run its course so fast, that a pandemic will become impossible! The reason for this? The infected will, if accelerated enough, die far quicker than they are able to spread it on to another individual.

I also hypothesize that, given the diseases track record, the individual may just end up being too busy trying to eat themselves, instead of going after others, and thus limiting exposure even further.

This weaponized variety of it could be unleashed on the zebra’s population, and all we’d have to do was sit at our walls and enjoy a nice sparkle cola while the striped bastards ate themselves to death. Literally. I’m going to be hard pressed to find a supporter for this. Certainly not the Ministry of Peace. Fluttershy would have my head!

However, I have plenty of time, and I’m not giving up on finding a real cure. I’ve made some progress in that route, but it’s not revealing its secrets as readily as just speeding it up. I’ll report back when anything of note happens.

If anything happens.

Something happened
Welp. That was unexpected. Okay, not really, I mean they did build these damn massive bunkers after all, so somepony saw the writing on the wall. Thank the gods for them.

I heard the door opening, and thought it was just another delivery of supplies or maybe my next oversized shipment of sparkle, booze, and the newest issues of Wingboner.

Nope. No winged beauties for me.

Instead I was left standing there as a stampede of ponies came running into the stable. Screaming. Even from here, deep inside, I could hear the roar of bombs exploding in the distance. The rumbling starting in the ground and vibrating the walls. Some of them just kept running, going down as far as they could to try and get away from the door, then, the alert sounded, and the doors finally closed.

I just stood there, in my doorway, looking at the shell shocked faces as I sipped on my sparkle cola. A mare unicorn, a young thing at that, leaned up against the bulkhead across from me as she panted and had a thousand yard stare. Not being one for missing an opportunity, I dangled a sparkle cola in front of her eyes.

She blinked at it a moment, then turned to look at me and I laid on the ole Blackbriar charm. “Looks like you could use a drink.”

She shook a bit, and took it in her own levitation field. Being the gentlestallion I am, I popped the top off with mine then raised my bottle to her health before taking a long drink.

She smiled at me, took a sip, then continued walking away as she thanked me.

Things are already looking up! Though I wish I would have gotten her name, she’s going to be hard to find in this rabble.

Nettlekiss
That’s her name. Nettlekiss. How could I be so sure? Because she’s the only fucking mare in this gods forsaken stable! How the hell did someone fuck this up so badly! I’m not a geneticist, but you don’t have to be my level of genius to realize how bad this is going to turn out! One mare. One thousand stallions. How the fuck does that math work out?

Answer: it doesn’t.

The science team, what there is of us, have already talked with the Overstallion and he’s already warned us of his concerns. A kiss ass named Butter Churn was even worse. Who the hell names their kid that? The kid sounded like a hick to boot! He was crying about long term survivability, how the mare, Nettlekiss, had to be taken care of, how she was the key to everything, how we could try all kinds of complete bullshit with stasis pods and technological wombs.

The kid’s a fucking loony and has spent too much time with his head in fiction books while on whatever farm they dragged him out of.

Meanwhile, I’ve never been happier about my hoard of Wingboner mags. If I ever get bored of them, I’ll be sure to be able to sell them at a premium. A thousand lonely bachelors to bid on them. Could be rich! It’s only been a week, give it some time and these things will be worth a mint.

That didn’t take long
So it took less than a week before everyone realized the gender ratio in here. The stallions with rotating barn doors almost seem like they’re in a fucking candy store the way some of them are prancing around.

The others, not so much.

There’s already been a couple murders, and Nettlekiss has reported, and been found, raped. Repeatedly.

One of which was caught in the act by security and the Overstallion had them publicly executed. As a deterrent.

It deterred nothing.

Meanwhile I’m burying myself into my work as much as possible. I try not to think about it. We’re all going to die in here eventually. But, at this rate, it’s going to be a lot sooner than anyone had expected. I hope I can find this cure and get it out of here before that happens. Maybe I can still save somepony.

Content Warning: Sexual assault survivor skip blacked out "Spolier" to avoid

Now I know
I suppose I should be thankful it took this long for it to have happened. That bastard earth pony Brick.

All the time here alone. The month since the world ended. Nothing prepared me for it.

Last night.

I tried to report it to security, the bastard shrugged and asked me what I expected him to do about it.

They really didn’t care anymore. While I was trying to tell him, and wanted to tell him where to go shove his nightstick, I heard a familiar scream in the atrium. He didn’t even flinch. I knew that scream. I made it all night the night before. All I could do was leave.

In shame.

It’s not enough!
I spend all of my time working. And try to run from the R&D department to my room when it’s most crowded. Locking the door when I can. Usually I manage it. Sometimes I don’t. Other fuckers don’t even so much as look at me as they walk by and it’s happening.

I keep thinking of Brick’s breath on my neck as he grunts and groans about how one unicorn’s as good as another.

I can’t get that out of my head. I keep thinking about it. Of all the times it’s happened. The regularity of it. That comment is what I keep coming back to. Unicorn = fuck toy.

I’ve seriously thought of breaking off my horn, but somehow I know that won’t change anything.

To make matters worse. I’m not even safe in my room anymore. Last night I woke up to him jumping on my bed. Fucker overrode the lock with a security override. What sadistic fuck made him a member of security! Giant earth pony bastard!

The end is near
He brought his friends this time. Brick. They had a damn party at my expense. I’d already taken to drinking most of my alcohol, so I didn’t have much when they raided my room anyway. But then I got passed around as much as the last drops of liquor.

One of them had the bright idea to dope me up with Med-x. I doubt it was out of kindness. More so they wouldn’t get a headache from the screaming.

I know something they don’t though. My research has borne fruit. And, the next time. I’ll be ready. The whole stable’s going to burn in hell, and I’m going to be the one holding the doors open while it happens.

HAHAHAHA!
I spent three days in medical for it, but it was worth it! They couldn’t understand why I was laughing so hard. Even when they had to wire my muzzle shut, and reset nearly every bone in my body. They couldn’t understand how I could be laughing.

They couldn’t understand how it was one of the first things to do when I came to.

But, as bad as they beat me for sticking them, they didn’t knock out the knowledge from my head. They didn’t knock out the myrth. They didn’t destroy my realization.

I’ve won.

Oh, it’s going to take them a while. Not too long. But too long for them to do anything about it at this rate.

All four of those fuckers got a nice little prick. And Brick got it right on his prick!

But, it wasn’t the fastest variety. Oh no. This one is going to take a bit before it starts really rearing its ugly head. In the meantime, it’s going to spread and spread and eventually the fuckers will start eating each other.

I have a dozen or so of the weaponized variant hidden in a cache in the R&D department cold freezer. I’ve removed one, and am going to use it on myself. So, when Brick comes in for his ‘unicorn rendezvous’ again tonight… he’s probably going to get his dick bit off.

By my corpse.

Let it be known, Blackbriar got the last laugh!

Ha!

Gearing sits there staring at the last entry a while longer. He’d been right. Butter Churn and Darling Night had also been right. There was at least two variants of the disease. And one was definitely artificial. And, seemingly, both were intentionally unleashed on the population of stable 68. And, if his hunch is right, he knows right where the rest of the weaponized variant of the disease is. But, he’ll keep that to himself. The entries confirmed what he was already sure of, the disease only spreads from direct fluid transfer. Consumption included. Never know when something like that’ll be useful. For either further cure research, or as a weapon of last resort.

More options are better than less.

He resecures the terminal, then buries it back in the pile of rubble, this time with the screen hidden better. He might be able to use this one for parts. But, despite how badly he has an urge to delete the data and keep the knowledge hidden, he can’t bring himself to do it. Not yet anyway. He walks out of the room, locks it back up, grabs his crate of salvage, and then heads back towards R&D.

* * *

As Gearing’s hauling a box of broken devices down the hallway, with the voice of the stable’s AI in his ear giving him a retelling of crop yields from years previous, he notices the red pegasus mare from before. He says into his pipbuck quietly, “Pause please,” and the audio cuts out as he sets the box down. The red mare notices him and starts scurrying towards the door to the arboretum faster.

Gearing waves a hoof, and a wing, at her with a smile as he says, “Hey, you’re… Scarlet, right?”

She sticks close to the wall, almost rubbing against it as she continues towards the door that is only a couple hops away. “Yeah. Why? What do you want?”

Gearing waves his hooves defensively. “I just wanted to introduce myself. With all that’s been going on, I hadn’t had a chance to yet.” He doesn’t see this going anywhere but he decides to at least be friendly. There’s something off about her and he’d rather not make yet another unnecessary enemy.

She regards him for a moment, then gets away from the wall enough that she’s not rubbing it anymore, and continues on at an exaggeratedly casual pace. “Oh… okay… Well. Hi. I’m Scarlett… and if that’s all… Bye”

“Actually,” he begins, causing her to tense up again. “I was wondering if you knew if we had any seeds or if you had preferences for food.”

She turns and looks at him with an eyebrow raised high enough that it looks like it would fall off the back of her head.

Gearing taps on the box next to him. “I’m working on setting up a hydroponics bay down in the R&D department. And I was wondering if there was anything you’d like to eat.” He runs a hoof through his mane and admits sheepishly, “Or if you actually knew anything that’d still grow that I could get seeds to grow down there?”

She turns and tilts her head as she regards him. “I’m already in charge of the arboretum. We’re growing food in there.”

That, he already knew. Thanks to his inquisitions with the Stable-Tec AI.

“Besides the apple orchard, I’ve managed to get some carrots growing as well.”

That part, he didn’t know.

Gearing looks at the box next to him and asks, “Well. I don’t really need to eat… but I figure if I produce enough, and if I can get the right plants to make some medical supplies, it would help everypony else out.” He sees her staring at him and he blurts out, “I do have experience with running hydroponics systems. Don’t worry. I just need the right supplies.”

She tilts her head a bit the other way and says, far less harshly than her normal tone, “That… would actually help.”

Gearing nods and picks up the box. “That’s the plan. Figured I’d make myself useful… So, if you need any help, just message me. Or swing by the R&D department, that’s where I’m moving too.”

She watches him slowly walk down the hall as she asks, “You’re going to live… in the R&D department? In the lower levels?”

Gearing turns enough to look at her and grin. “Yeah. Lets me keep working and not have to worry about the noise keeping anypony else awake.”

“Riiiight,” Scarlet says with a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Well… see you then.” And she scurries into the arboretum, quickly closing it behind herself.

Gearing switches on the audio again, listening to the stable AI detail the various systems that’d gone into food production. He can’t help but wonder where he can get some of the medicinal plants he needs. Given the right mix, they can turn lethal. The others certainly wouldn’t want that. But, the plants could be very useful before then, and he could grow them in surplus without suspicion. Just in case.

Because contingency plans are important. And gases are one of the most efficient deadly types of poisons he knows. And it doesn’t hurt that he can use them with impunity when the need arises, since he’s completely immune to all non-magical types of poison.

Which is pretty much all of them.

He hates to have to think that way. But he learned long ago, during the war, that it was a necessary evil. Having at least a bit of suspicion was the thing to keep the mind fresh. And a healthy dose of paranoia would keep a pony alive in the situations he found himself in.

The pony that had earned his respect enough to be beyond suspicion was a rare gem few and far between. There were less than a dozen such individuals in all of Equestria. Individuals who would have his benefit of the doubt regardless of what was presented to him. It wasn’t exactly blind loyalty. But it was close enough. Except to one. Towards her he was unshakeable.

Yet she was already dead. Along with all of the others. Given the time lost, that’s the only sensible answer. His only hope is that she’d died as she lived. With honor. As a hero.

And it’s in honor to her, and the others that had fought, and died, for the cause that he wouldn’t do such a thing needlessly. Even if they did become hostile for whatever reason. No, he swore to protect everyone in Equestria. That was his vow. And, as far as he was concerned, he was still on the job.

The world ending just means he’ll be expected to pick up some over time until further notice.

Once in the R&D department, he carries on learning about the stable and history, every now and then asking questions about different areas. He continues working on a small piece of equipment as he carries on the casual conversation with the Stable-Tec AI. Anyone else seeing this would probably be certain that he’d lost his mind.

Perhaps they’d be right.

But, he finds a bit of comfort in the conversation. Even though it’s not like one he’d have with an old colleague during the war. It was close. Even if it was extremely work focused and seemed more like a never ending lecture, he found a nice rhythm in keeping his mind working, learning, growing. All the while he busies himself with a little piece of arcano-technology between his hooves. The conversation doesn’t stop until, sadly, he needs to have full access of his pipbuck. He connects the wires to the device, and starts tapping out commands. A few moments later, and thanks in large part to the AI helping with the programming, the little device powers up, and spins around. The single lens from the salvaged camera looks around, then up at Gearing. It skitters towards him a bit, then pauses as it awaits commands. Gearing shuts it down again, attaches a modified torch that was used for welding and soldering to one of its crab-like forearms. Then he folds the entire thing up into a neat package. Afterwards he uses a crowbar and breaks the welds on the vent, and slips his new package into the hole, before reapplying the vent and bolting it in place.

He taps on his pipbuck, and a smile creeps across his face as he sees the small drone’s lights power up and it look around. He gets down from the table he’d been partially standing on while hovering and looks at his pipbuck. “Okay. Stable-Tec. Please use provided asset named ‘Crawler’. Perform predetermined search algorithm. Priorities are as follows: sanitization, mapping ventilation system, logging repairs needed, and alerting to any deviances in known architecture.”

“Confirmed, Subject Gearing. Beginning ‘Crispy Critter’ protocol,” the robotic mare’s voice comes from around him. The bot in the vent spins around, acquiring its position for its search grid as its point of origin. A moment later the vents burst into flame as the bot has taken the opportunity to ensure that the remains of the radroach eggs are thoroughly carbonized. Then the bot skitters along the air duct away and out of Research and Development. But, far after he’s lost sight of it, he can hear the echoing of the sound of the blowtorch kicking on through the vent.

Fwoosh.

Fwoosh, fwoosh.

Fwoooooosh.

Satisfied with a job well done, or at least well in progress, he starts going over a set of schematics that he’s working on. He has most of what he needs. But, not everything. So it’s going to be a while before he can get the hydroponics bay up and running. There’s a strong possibility that what he needs is in the lowest levels. But, failing that, and arguably more safe, there is the option to go to the surface and try to scrounge around for supplies. Both have their own risks and possible rewards. But, at the moment, he’s not really wanting to pull the pins on this particular grenade bouquet and hope for the best.

Footnote: Local intranet not responding, seeking alternate reboot procedure. . .

Internal failsafe activated, please stand by. . .

Component diagnostic protocols loading, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter is the first one I've attempted the "Content Warning" method I'd mentioned weeks ago. I haven't gotten a lot of feedback on it at time of posting, but figured it was better than nothing. Suggestions or comments either way would be appreciated.

-Quillsy

9 Awkward Discoveries

In a weird form of procrastination, Gearing does another survey of the R&D department’s equipment. He trots over to a wall of consoles and decides to see inside. The data is already shared among all of the stations, with a link to the primary maneframe to boot. Since so few ponies are going to be working in here, no one else if Gearing can help it, he doesn’t need this many terminals. So, maybe, he can cannibalize them for other purposes. Something more useful. All he’d have to worry about is making sure the data that’d been saved locally is transferred off or backed up before decommissioning them. But, hey, he’s got plenty of time at the moment. Everypony else is asleep.

He starts taking the panels off one of the collection of consoles and checks their contents. He’s pleasantly surprised. The parts all look in excellent working order. An abundance of parts really. In fact, from the side panel, he can’t even see very far into the console. He goes around to the front, and finds a faceplate that’s almost dead center in the middle of the front of the lower section of the console. He uses a couple tools, and eventually gets the panel to pop off. He lets the panel fall to the floor as he stares at the contents it was hiding.

Or, more accurately, the lack of contents.

The panel had been covering a section that looks almost like some kind of void. Mostly solid, but the center part had a parting in it with some material that wasn’t quite as ridged.

“What in the-“ he starts. Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He flops back on his rear and stares at it. His eyes getting wider as a sudden realization dawns on him. “Oh no… Oh hell no… that was supposed to be a joke! Right?!” He jumps into his pipbuck and goes into an area of his data where he’s kept a few copies of files that he had stolen a long time ago. His eyes jump back and forth between his pipbuck and at the visage of horror before him. “Oh… come on! There’s even literal laughing in the notes around this! It can’t be… There’s no way…” He stands back up and looks at the console, and his eyes settle on the console screen directly above the access panel he just removed.

He’d thought it was dead, or a redundant, or one that was simply used as a display from another area of the stable. But, if this is right. It can be accessed.

Gearing’s ears start whistling as the gears around his face and neck seem to move independently of his thoughts, except where he actively wills them to do otherwise. He swallows hard and puts his forehooves on the console. One on either side of the screen monitor, and looks down at the access port. “You’ve got to be kidding me… What kind of fucked up pervert comes up with something like this!?”

He gets down and stomps his hooves on the ground. On one side. The curiosity is killing him. If it works. Well… Damn… That’s a certain level of security that most wouldn’t be able to get around. Really only bucks, and even then only the brave that’d be willing to.

He stomps again as his ears whistle and seem to let out heated wind from deeper inside.

He looks at the console again, sitting down, and staring at the monitor for a while. His eyes slowly start taking in his surroundings. Nopony’s around. No one’s at the door to the decontamination chamber. In fact, he’s pretty sure everyone else is asleep. If there was ever a time to try this… It would be now… He swallows hard as he stares at it, his eyes getting impossibly big. At least no one will know of his shame. Whether this works or not.

The little dark blue winged Big Macintosh knock-off in his head chimes in, Hey! It might be fun! Gearing jack slaps the voice of his subconscious, and locks it back in the metal steam chest in his mind where such thoughts should stay.

Ya prude! The muffled voice screams out from its chest.

“I’m not a prude… just... reserved… I have reasons!” He clamps a hoof over his mouth as he realizes he just verbalized an internal argument.

Yup, if there was any shame and humiliation in this, he just earned every iota of it.

He shrugs, and says in resignation, “Fuck it.”

And he does.

The next moment he’s already hopped up on the console again, and rutted the hole straight to the hilt. His ear’s whistle as he tries to position himself and his eyes dart around, praying that no one’s going to stumble across this horrible act, and no one’s paying attention to the cameras. He stares at a camera and his face turns to one of horror. He hopes as long as he doesn’t say her name, that Nettlekiss won’t have her attention drawn to him. The AI. Sure. But she’s not going to just volunteer this to anyone. That’s one thing he’s sure of.

As he’s rocking side to side, trying to get better footing, and looking down at the console, there’s a click, and he feels something clamp on the left side of his member. He looks down at the monitor, and can’t help but feel a bit of panic as it seems that, no matter what, he can’t pull himself out.

He’s sure of his durability. It’s been tested. Through time, and fire. But this particular area of himself? No. He’s not wanting to see how much like a tank it was.

He whimpers a moment as he wonders about what he should do. He could get seriously hurt if he tries to just force it out. And if he’d call for help… they’d see… and he’d just die of embarrassment. He quickly starts going over the console, at far as he can reach, even using his wings to tap out things on the adjoining keyboards.

Nothing.

In all of his moving around, with his little pegasus trapped inside the console somewhere, he shifts to the other side, trying to reach with a wing to another set of consoles, and he hears another click. His moving around has made him slide laterally just enough to click into place, and he feels something else clamp onto him, on the opposite side as whatever was grabbing him before.

He jerks, and pulls back, looking down at himself in fright, and finds that now, despite there being a pressure where he’d really rather there not be any, he actually has free movement. He quickly withdraws himself to survey the damage, and his eyes bug out at what is before him.

There in full view, a metallic object of some unknown origin and purpose, has been bestowed on him like some kind of twisted marriage proposal. Clamped on, tightly. Not moving or sliding. And causing more than a little bit of awkward pressure.

He looks around again, and turns his back on the entry door as he tries to adjust himself. But, to no avail. It won’t go back down. And the ring won’t come off. Its perpetual hold is keeping him at full mast and there’s no way of getting it off as far as he can tell.

He puts his hooves up to his face as he looks around. The sick fucks that designed this place had some twisted ideas of what was funny. He’s sure that they’re somewhere. Laughing their ass off. Rolling in their graves. That they had finally found somepony dumb enough to actually do it.

He’s not feeling like a very clever pony at the moment. He’s out clevered himself. He’s come full revolution through clever into blooming idiot territory. Curiosity and adventurous spirit are well and good. And it’s all fun and games, until you have a cock ring welded onto your dick and no way to remove it!

He has no idea how he’s going to be able to show his face in the rest of the stable like this. Stairs are going to be a problem. He wonders if anyone will notice the sparks that might pop up? Not that that’s happened before, but, it’s always a possibility, right? Flying’s right out. Lowerish ceilings are bad enough, with his current predicament he might accidentally put someone’s eye out…

“What am I gonna do now?” Gearing moans to himself.

There’s a tub of axle grease in the supply closet… The voice suggests from its chest.

Gearing’s ears whistle as he looks down at himself, then around the room. There’s got to be something to this. He’s just missing it. And then, there, as if his prayers were being answered, or the jokers had an even more sick sense of comedic timing, Gearing notices that one of the panels of the bulkhead, wasn’t actually a panel, but a full length display screen.

One that was currently lit, with a bright white light.

He trots over there as gingerly as possible to examine the screen. The wall was adjacent to another set of terminals, but not being blocked by them. And, just to the side of it, is a smaller panel that currently has a series of lights tracing around it. As he approaches, it seems to sense his presence and slides open. He stands there gaping at the familiar access port that’s uncovered as he has another internal debate.

This could be what he’s supposed to do. Maybe this is really what you’re supposed to access with this thing. Or, it could be something designed to cut off your dick if you were stupid enough to fall for it. Granted, he’d have a bit more chance of coming out of that scenario less mutilated than most, but it’s not something that he’d want to test needlessly. But, what else is there to do? Go running up stairs? Reveal his shame? Both hanging out and what he’s done? They already don’t trust him. If they start thinking he’s some kind of super pervert trying to rape the very stable there’s no telling what they’d do to him.

He really really hopes Nettlekiss hasn’t noticed any of this.

Fuck it. Literally. Again. In for a penny, in for a pound. He rears up, puts his hooves on the glass panel, and rutts the access point for all it’s worth.

He whimpers as, on the very first thrust, he’s stuck in place again. Standing there on his hind legs, spread eagle, and sheath deep in the wall. But, unlike previously, he can immediately feel whatever mechanisms are in the port working. The first stage was getting him to stop moving.

Not a problem given their very persuasive grip on the most sensitive part of his entire body.

The second stage causes the ring to clamp just a bit closer, giving him a momentary worry that it was indeed some dick eating trap that was about to guillotine him, before the pressure is released entirely, and he’s let go.

He quickly pulls himself out, and looks at the damage. Aside from a light scuff mark, and some oddly placed mechanical lubricate, he seems to have come out no worse for wear. And, thankfully, the flag is finally coming down. He looks around again, ears whistling loud as he wonders and hopes no one has seen this. But… his curiosity and sense of adventure, even as reckless as it is, seems to have paid off a bit.

The panel recedes into the bulkhead, and then slides to the side to reveal a room beyond. Having apparently learned nothing from his experience, Gearing taps on his pipbuck and uses its light to examine the interior. In the space beyond is a decent sized room. However, it is crammed beyond any reason at the moment.

He’s not sure how, or even why, but a platoon of protactaponies stand at the ready, side by side and face to flank. Packed in as tightly as they can get. He looks them over and, breathes a slight sigh of relief. None of them are active. They all seem to be in stasis. Or stand by. He tries to get past them, to look around the room beyond them to see if there’s a terminal or any other information he might be able to gather and find out what they are doing here.

And, probably more importantly, how to make sure they’re at least not hostile towards him and the stable’s occupants.

As he’s squeezing past the sixth one in the row, while walking reared up on his hind legs, his forehoof lands on the flank of one of the protectaponies. A moment later he’s surrounded by the humming machinery all staring at him. The lights from their equipment cascade and reflect off of his hide and wings, as all of their targeting sensors focus on him.

Luna, for when daytime ass rapes just aren’t enough. Gearing thinks grimly.

A cable comes from one of the protectaponies on a prehensiled system from its neck and plugs into his pipbuck. He looks at his pipbuck for a moment, concerned at what this thing is trying to get from him, but relieved that at least they haven’t shot. Yet that is.

“Greetings Stable-Tec Technician Gearing. You are not the Crea-tor. Why have you awakened us?” the protectapony plugging into his system asks gruffly.

Gearing looks them over, and then says as diplomatically as he can, “The stable’s been damaged. I was doing an assessment on needed repairs, and I came across you behind a hidden panel.”

The protectaponies beep a variety of signals to each other. Gearing can’t pick up any of what’s going on, but knows the Robronco algorithms enough to realize they are quickly speaking in code using frequencies.

“Understood, Stable-Tec Technician Gearing. What do you desire of us?” the apparent lead protectapony asks.

Gearing looks at the horde around him, and can’t help but smile for a moment. “If at all possible, we could use help with securing the stable. Hostiles have made it inside and caused a lot of damage. Can you comply?”

The protectaponies beep to themselves then another one chimes in, “We would be more than capable of doing so. If the Crea-tor requires it.”

Gearing looks at the one, then individually at all twelve of the pairs of glowing eyes staring back at him. “Creator?”

“The Crea-tor! He made us and sealed us in here until we were needed. Did the Crea-tor send you?” a third one chimes in.

Gearing looks around at the group, and feels a sinking feeling. They probably won’t want to leave the room unless they’re given clearance to do so by whoever put them in here. And, judging by everything he can tell, that individual’s probably been dead for over two hundred years. But, given his own history, and where they are, he might be able to get enough information to fool them into thinking he is the one they seek. Forging credentials was a difficult task, but not impossible. Hell, he might even have known the pony. “Who was your creator? Who made you?”

The voices of all twelve sing out in unison, “The Crea-tor! Handy Hooves!”

Gearing would shit himself if he had the biological ability to do so.

Gearing takes in a deep breath, and tries to calm down. He doesn’t know much about their group. And, it’s true, long term stasis technology was a thing already in use and development. It is possible. But, then, why the hell wouldn’t he have already gotten them out of the stable? A dozen protectaponies with this level of amped up modification would be more than adequate to retake the stable and keep it secure, even if he lost a few in the process.

Something’s not adding up here.

Gearing slowly raises a hoof, as he lowers his head. They watch carefully, intently, for a response. He smirks at them and says, “This is going to be hard to believe… But I think I know exactly who you want to talk to.”

“Take us to the Crea-tor!” the lead robot says as he pushes forward, pressing into Gearing and giving the impression that personal space parameters have been set to ‘0’.

Gearing waves his hoof then says, “He’s been very busy. Let me have my pipbuck back and I’ll get him on the line real quick. He’d be very interested in talking with you, I’m sure.” He gives a little chuckle and says with a smile, “I kinda annoyed him recently, so he’s not always taking my calls as quickly as I’d like.”

The cable retracts from his pipbuck and the protectapony sings, “The Crea-tor! Contact the Crea-tor!”

Gearing nods, and taps on his pipbuck, opening up a channel. After a few moments, and no response, he sends a message to Swift.

A moment later Swift contacts Gearing through the pipbuck, “Gearing, Handy’s not well. He can’t talk right now.”

Gearing looks at the protectaponies, and they seem to be listening intently, as they press in harder. Closer. Unnecessarily so. Gearing says in as calm and leveled a manner as he can, overly so, intentionally, “Swift. I need Handy to get on the line now.”

He hears her sigh but, before she can respond however she was going to, he adds, “It’s a matter of life and death. And I don’t just mean mine.” He keeps the same level tone, and hopes that the juxtaposition of his wordage and it will give her a clue.

And, (Celestia bless the mare! he thinks) she instantly shut off communications and Handy’s pipbuck kicks an open channel to Gearing.

“What’s wrong, Gearing?” Handy asks sounding thoroughly, and understandably, exhausted.

Gearing looks around at the group around him and they start rocking and getting antsy. “Handy… I was digging around down here, and I found something…”

A long groan comes from Handy’s lips before he asks, “What this time?”

Almost every one of the protectaponies heads are leaning in, far extended, as they stare at the pipbuck. Gearing groans as he’s being pressed into the wall side, “Did you misplace some protectaponies?”

There is a moment of silence before Handy asks, “What?”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “I got a group of protectaponies here that say you made them... and… well hell.” He looks around at the protectaponies and shoves the pipbuck towards the head of the one that he thinks originally talked. “You talk to him. He’s your Crea-tor”

“Greetings, Crea-tor! Protectapony squadron Double H, Unit Zero-One here! We request permission to come and see you!” the protectapony says as it rocks side to side.

Handy’s voice comes across softly, after a momentary pause, “What do you want with me?”

All of the protectaponies say, in unison, “To serve the Crea-tor!”

Handy sighs then says, “Okay. Permission granted. Meet me in the Maintenance bay on top level… Gearing, show them the way, please.”

“That will not be necessary, Crea-tor!” The lead bot says as he spins around. “We have already acquired the layout of the stable. We are coming, Crea-tor!”

Gearing presses himself against the wall as much as he can, trying to climb up and out of the way of the herd of protectaponies stampeding out of the small room. After the sound of the protectaponies is muffled by the nearest door of the decontamination chamber closing, Handy says, “They think I’m my grandfather. I hope I can make this work. If not… Well… we’ll just figure it out when we come to the bridge. Thanks for the heads up, Gearing.” And the channel terminates.

Gearing looks at his pipbuck for a few moments, and then shrugs. Well. It’s not his problem at the moment. Those things seemed positively delighted just at hearing Handy’s voice. Though. The pipbuck channel was tagged as ‘Handy Hooves’ so they’d have a good reason to suspect it was who they were hoping. Those protectaponies were interesting though. All custom models. Probably made by hoof. And, whoever did it, whoever this real Handy Hooves was, they knew what they hell they were doing around a wrench and hammer.

He chuckles as he thinks how pissed off the tools at Robronco would be if they knew someone was not only hoofing into their turf, but doing a better job of it than them to boot.

He debates on using the room he uncovered as storage space, there’s not really much in there for sure, but decides against it. At least for now. He’ll figure it out later. For now he has several parts that need fixing. Some of the areas, primarily the area’s that aren’t even needed right now, he’s decided it’s more efficient to zip in, pull out the damaged equipment parts, and bring them back to R&D to fix. After he has a few of them, he’s able to work on them with relative ease, with the complete lack of distractions and threat of attack as he has a pair of reinforced containment doors between him and the rest of the stable.

Healthy dose of paranoia. He’s paranoid. And still healthy. So, obviously, it’s the correct dose.

Given the nonsense that Handy is going to have to deal with, Gearing figures it’s best to make himself scarce.

So he works on the different components and the literal pile of work he’s accumulated in the lab. However, expecting an interruption at any point, he doesn’t engage the Stable-Tec AI in conversation. On one level, probably the most important, he doesn’t want her to ask about what he’d been doing. He knows full well that the AI knew all about it. She’s connected to the system, after all. But that’s not something he wants to talk about right now. He pauses and looks at one of the speakers and wonders if, somehow, she was the one controlling it and that’s why he was getting so felt up in the process. As twisted as the method was. It made a little bit of sense. Like clamping on hoofcuffs. But, it should have attached and let go. Both sides. Simultaneously. Not make him wiggle around until he figured out just the right spot to hit.

His ears start whistling as the train of thought runs away and he realizes the description is a little… too plausible if the AI was doing it for their own amusement.

He shakes his head towards the circuit board in front of him when his Pipbuck starts playing an old familiar tune. He looks at it a moment, wondering if someone’s opened a channel to him, and says nothing. The upbeat music continues on until the sound of an obviously voice modulated female mare comes across it.

He stops what he’s doing when he hears a very familiar phrase, one that he hasn’t heard in over two hundred years.

“Pinkie Pie is watching youuu… For-ev-eeeerrrrrrrrrr.”

He regards the pipbuck for a moment, then taps the controls and looks which channel is sending this old propaganda message that used to blare out of those old spritebot spies Pinkie had roaming the countryside. According to the readout, there are no active signals coming in through the radio.

“There are bad ponies everywhere. Bad ponies get punished! You’re not a bad pony, are you?” the voice continues on autopilot.

Gearing rolls his eyes and continues working. It’s a nice bit of nostalgia. Not because he particularly liked hearing the nonsense so often. But because some of the memories he has conjured up. Especially times when he was paying extra attention to his surroundings, just to block out the annoying bots.

“It’s rude to ignore someone when they ask you a question… Gearing.”

Gearing freezes then slowly turns to look at his pipbuck.

The voice giggles and says, “That’s right. I’m talking to you. Are you a bad pony, Gearing? Have you been doing bad pony things?”

Gearing looks around, his eyes trying to figure out where this transmission is coming from. Is this another joke of some kind? “Well, Pinkie Pie, you’re the judge of that, now aren’t you? I try to be a good pony, and that’s all I can do.”

There’s a giggle and the voice returns, “I’m not Pinkie Pie. But Pinkie Pie is watching you-“

Gearing finishes the practical catch phrase with the same creepy inflection as the voice is using at the same time.

“For-ev-eeeerrrrrrrrrr.”

“-For-ev-eeeerrrrrrrrrr.” The voice giggles again and adds, “You got it!” Then in a more serious voice the bot says, “You should watch out for the others. They might be bad ponies. I haven’t decided yet… But there are bad ponies out there. And close!”

Gearing looks at the pipbuck as he asks, “Who are these bad ponies?”

The sound track changes after a moment, and a variety of voices come through the pipbuck like fragments of different pony’s recorded conversations mashed into one list.

“Raiders,” says a deep voiced buck.

“Red eye,” says a mare screaming.

“Steel Rangers,” says a voice that Gearing distinctly links to someone speaking through the headset of a powered armor’s helmet.

“Ghouls,” says the same deep voiced buck from the first one, but in a different tone.

Gearing stares at the screen for a few moments, before asking the one pressing question that could possibly be on his mind at the moment, “How are the Steel Rangers bad ponies? They’re the good guys, aren’t they? I mean… they were.”

The voice comes across practically angry, “They turned on Applejack. They’re disloyal. They’ve hurt many good ponies just to take their old dirty toys. But they don’t share their toys with anypony. They’re bad ponies!”

Gearing sits down with a hard metallic flop. It’s been a long time. So. Maybe this information is just out of date. The first one alone would earn them an execution as far as he’s concerned. First the pegasi betray Equestria by deserting, then the Steel Rangers? Celestia have mercy on her, I hope Applejack was dead long before that happened. It would have broke her heart!

He drops the screwdriver he’d been messing with on the table before he says in disgust, “If that’s true. They need to be punished.”

The voice giggles and he swears he can hear clapping coming over the radio. “Yes! Bad ponies need to be punished!”

Gearing looks around and puts his forehooves on the table as he asks, “What should I do? About the bad ponies?”

The voice tuts at him. “Just be a good pony!” A moment later the voice changes lightly, to something less jovial and more serious. Flat toned even. “We’ll be in touch.” Then the connection cuts out.

This. This is a problem. They not only have access to his pipbuck through some unknown channel, even to him, but they’ve gained access to the stable’s security system. Those are the only camera’s that she (or he?) could have been watching him from. They may have been trying to play it off as if they were looking through the pipbuck at him, but he knows better. He knows his pipbuck inside and out. That was part of the mandatory training. This model is special. And he needed to be able to care for it. No one else, outside of a select number of his co-workers, would have been able to do it. Maybe that genius Apple Bloom could have figured it out, but she didn’t have the required clearance.

He tries to figure out what to do. However, they have the upper hand at the moment. It’s going to take a while for him to figure out a counter. Possibly sabotaging the various surveillance systems in R&D and bringing down the others for a chat? That’d be a bit obvious. But what else can he do?

He starts working around the lab again. Obviously they’re watching him, so he figures it’d be best to at least seem like he’s carrying on business as usual. After he begins working, his pipbuck starts playing the same music again, and it’s frustrating him the more he thinks about it. It’s like they’re taunting him.

However, he has a bit of an epiphany. If he just thinks about the song, and not the people flooding the communication channels with it, he can get work done a lot easier. Far less stress. Which lets him think about things, and, in a weird way, lets him work on the exact problem he’s trying to avoid while keeping his hooves busy.

By the time he’s pulled apart a console to the point where he’s got his entire front half buried in it, he’s started actually enjoying the music. He’s tapping a hoof to the beat and starts swinging his hips side to side in a semi dance as he tries to find out some burned out piece in a nest of old components. He takes a moment to hit record on his pipbuck, and just lets it record the audio that it itself is playing. He’s not sure how long the song will continue to play, and he can always edit it later for when it loops.

But, really, just how much music is there in the Equestrian wasteland? And Gauge’s noxious farts don’t count.

Abruptly the music cuts out, and Gearing looks at his pipbuck for a moment before stopping the recording and going back to work.

A moment later Handy’s voice comes over the com channel. “Gearing? What have you been doing?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow at the pipbuck before continuing to try and fish out a burnt tube. “In R&D working on repairs. Why?”

“You hear that music?” Handy’s voice responds.

Gearing shrugs. “Not right now.” He pulls out and starts looking around at the cameras in the room.

Handy’s voice comes across annoyed. “Someone’s broke into the system. I’ve locked out all channels except ones I open temporarily. I don’t know how long that will keep them out. We need to find out how they got in. And, oddly, they are using the pipbucks themselves to transmit the signal inside the stable. I don’t understand that… and…”

Gearing sets the board he needs to work on onto his table before he asks, “Aaaand?”

“And.” Handy’s voice comes across as cold. Accusatory. “Stable-Tec has informed me that on top of all of the pipbucks sending out the signal. That you yourself are a potential source. They said the signal started a while ago, and you were the only one at the point of origin before it spread out.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and sits down. “Oh that’s fucking ridiculous. I’ve been down here! And I don’t even have any transmission equipment in here. Not that I know of anyway…”

Handy lets out a loud sigh, “Alright. Well, I have a point marked on my map, I’ll give you directions, and you walk over there, and tell me what you see. How about that?”

Gearing shrugs and waves a hoof at nopony in particular. “Sure. Lead on, boss.”

Handy gives him directions from where he is currently standing, over to a wall a short distance away. Gearing looks at it and his ears go back as Handy’s voice asks, “What do you see? It should be right in front of you. Do you see anything?”

Oh he surely does. It’s a console he’d very much like not to have to talk about. Ever.

“Uh… yeah… A console with terminals,” Gearing says while looking around and trying to keep his ears from whistling.

“What kind of terminals? Anything special about them?” Handy asks flatly.

Gearing looks them over then sighs as he says, “Well. No… They’re just research terminals. The data on them’s already been collected… but…”

“But? Gearing, I don’t have time for whatever you’re doing right now. This is serious.”

Gearing gently grinds a forehoof into the ground as he says, “This console is the one that led me to the protectaponies I sent to you earlier.”

“There was protectaponies inside the console?” Handy asks in disbelief.

“No! I said it lead me to them. I was… working on it… Seeing what I could … get … out of it. And I found ah ummm…”

“A what, Gearing?” Handy asks with obviously lowering patience.

“Sorry, trying to remember the term…” Gearing blatantly stalls. “Access card! Yeah. It was an access card of some kind and I… dug it out, and that’s when I found the hidden panel the protectaponies were behind.”

Hey, that was pretty good! Wish I woulda thought of that! The little dark blue voice in the box of his mind says.

Fuck you and your ‘axle grease might feel good’ bullshit! Gearing mentally screams at it.

That option’s still in the supply closet! It responds.

His ears start whistling as he hates himself so much right now.

“Do you still have it?” Handy asks.

“What? Oh! The access card? Well. No… it’s still in the wall it… Took it from me when it granted access to the door,” Gearing replies.

“Well,” Handy says flatly, “get it. We need to find out what it is. It can’t be a coincidence that that was found at the same time these people got into the system.”

“Okay. Yeah. That makes sense.” Gearing looks around with his eyes getting wider by the moment. “I’ll get right on that and uh, get back to you once I … have. It.”

“Just hurry up already,” Handy says with annoyance in his voice.

Gearing nods. “Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Getting right on it.” He walks over to the wall and starts peeking into the hole. The all too inviting hole according to the boxed voice in his mind. Gearing pauses, and looks at his pipbuck, then asks, “Handy?”

“Yeah, Gearing?” Handy replies instantly.

“You uh… you going to leave the channel open?” Gearing asks apprehensively.

“Yeah. This needs done. And if I close out the channel they might use the opportunity to break in again. As long as I’m using it, they can’t. So hurry up… Why, is there a problem?”

“Oh, no. No problem. I mean. I just don’t know how long this is going to take,” Gearing replies as he stares at the wall and starts wondering what he did to have this nightmare playing out in real life Equestria.

You gave it the ‘D’! The voice from the box in his mind giggles.

“You need me to come down and lend a hoof?” Handy asks, rather innocently.

Gearing recoils and looks at his pipbuck with his ears laid back. “No! I can handle myself. I don’t want your hooves all over my junk.” He stamps a hoof over his mouth and looks at the pipbuck mortified that he’d let that much slip.

Handy replies annoyed, ‘I’m not interested in taking your salvage; I just need that access card!”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck, then his eyes dart around as he tries to put the pieces together. Tick. Tick. CLICK. Oh. Oh! He thinks… oh, well that’s okay. That’s better. Yup. Nothing to see here. Moving along.

Right into fucking the wall again! the voice in the box declares happily.

Instantly Gearing’s ears start whistling again.

Footnote: Internal failsafe activated, please stand by. . .

Component diagnostic protocols loading, please stand by. . .

Running Failsafe diagnostic protocols, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter uncovers more than just a few mysteries. Thanks again to my pre-readers for helping me get this presentable before posting. The weirdness of the chapter and related incidents isn't simply gratuitous tom-foolery, and will hopefully make more sense as the story progresses.

-Quillsy

10 Research and Developments

In an attempt to keep this from getting any more awkward, Gearing uses a light and a couple tools trying to remove the object from the recess, but nothing seems to work. Both pieces are securely held to the sides and his attempts are proven worthless. It refuses to cough it up. Not even half of it. Gearing grumbles to himself, “Maybe if I could use some fucking magic I could get this fucking thing out.” He tosses the screwdriver to the side in frustration as he snorts, “Fucking unicorns… Fucking magic.”

Fucking unicorns would be fucking magic! the little voice in his head taunts.

He props himself up and looks at the wall with apprehension. This was a horrible idea to begin with. Though, there were some decent rewards out of it. There had to be some point where this joke of a system finally ends. Right? He’s going to try and postpone the shame and humiliation for as long as possible. He just had to get through this part and it’ll be over. Just one more act and it’ll be over. Then, it shall never be spoken of. Ever. Best to just get it over with.

So he sinks in to the hilt.

And the voice in his head starts laughing maniacally.

He takes in a deep breath, and starts banging his head on the wall. “Yup, figures.” He looks up at the ceiling and groans. “You all really hate me, don’t you?” Hey, Celestia, could you at least give me a reach around while you’re back there shoving your horn up my ass? he thinks bitterly.

He’s locked into the wall. Completely flush, as far as he can, midrutt. The system caught him, and stopped him, pulling him in as far as it possibly could. He can feel pressure up the entire length, and grinds his head into the wall as he wonders if this is how he’s going to die. A moment later, he’s allowed a slight reprieve with the mechanisms providing a bit of slack.

He shivers and shakes as his hind legs aren’t having the best of days in this awkward semi-flexed position. But, on top of that, he can feel the mechanisms moving. He can’t really tell what they are doing, but they’re definitely moving. Around and almost in a pulsing motion. He tries to pull himself out, only managing to get a bit of slack before ending up sheath deep again.

“Well, this is a problem...” Gearing mutters. “What am I gonna do now?”

The little dark blue pony in his head opens the box just enough to sing towards him gleefully, All in aaaalll it’s just another DICK innnn the waaaaaalllll.

Gearing slams his head against the wall and Handy asks, “What’s going on?”

Gearing turns his head and snaps at the pipbuck, with his ears whistling louder by the second, “I’m trying to get the damn thing out like you asked! Give me a fucking break here. It’s really jammed in there.”

“Sorry… You don’t have to bite my head off about it…”

Gearing looks down at himself and wonders if his own head is going to get bit off. A moment later his eyes and ears go wide as the speaker nearby declares, “Access request in progress,” in the voice of the Stable-Tec AI mare.

“Sounds like you’re making progress,” Handy comments. Then a moment later he says apologetically, “I’ll just shut up…”

Gearing starts trying to rock side to side, but finds that each time he seems to rock back and forth the further he can slide, but still can’t seem to get free entirely. The AI’s voice comes out of the speaker next to him, “Inadequate levels detected. Capacitors need to be fully charged before release.”

Gearing looks at the speaker and slowly tilts his head. The tone strikes a chord with him. The phrasing too. He gives it a few looks, then stares down at himself.

Tick. Tick. CLICK!

“Fuck it.” And he pulls back and bucks into the wall again, hard. Having no other idea to go on, and seemingly finding some sort of progress through accidentally moving around and hitting whatever is supposed to be accessed, he does the only thing he can think of.

He goes at it for all he’s worth.

The metal grinding of his forelegs on the wall and the weird clicking sound coming from the access panel increase in volume. He has no idea what he’s doing, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. He wonders if this is some sort of strange lock. One that might be able to be picked by randomly jiggling the tools in until the tumblers all slide into place. But, no. This didn’t allow him to do the same with the actual tools he tried. It didn’t work at all. He grunts as he feels like he’s pulled even deeper into the mechanism and various clamps take position along his entire shaft. His eyes grow in size as a thought crosses his mind.

It’s like it knows. How can a lock KNOW?

He begins to worry when the robotic mare’s voice chimes happily, “Capacitors at 60% and rising.” A moment later it says excitedly, “Continued work is appreciated. Thank you for your dedication.”

He looks at the speaker again as his eyebrow rises. He starts feeling weird. Dirty almost. He can’t quite put a feather on it. But this is starting to get worrying. He picks up speed hoping to get this over with as fast as possible.

“Subject Gearing!” the voice says overtly. “You’ve increased charge rate! Please continue!” A moment later the voice comes across a bit softer almost in a whisper. “Faster, please.”

He tilts his head and looks at the speaker straight on as he continues rutting the wall. Oh, this is messed up. He realizes exactly why he was feeling dirty. There’d been a mare that he had an agreement with at one of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences hubs. They weren’t exactly an item, but he had a standing invitation, an order really, to let her know whenever he was in town. And each time it always lead to a night of rutting that had cost the lives of a few of her bed frames. She would praise him for his durability, and endurance, and sing his praises as she went as rough as she wanted with him. They scratched a mutual itch, or so he thought, for a long time. But, eventually, he got an urge for more, and wanted to do more than her with her.

They’d never even gone to a cinema together.

It ended quite abruptly when he found out that, unlike what he thought, and how he thought of her, she was only with him for sex. And, not even in a mutual aspect. She saw him as her personal sex toy, and that’s all she wanted him for. And while that was bad enough, it wasn’t the worst of it.

She had a robot fetish. And that’s all she saw him as.

The voice gets louder as it counts down, “C- capacity is at 96… 97… So close, Subject Gearing! 98… Just a bit… Moooore.” The lights in the R&D department flicker as there’s a power surge through the section. The mechanisms holding him spasm as the power sputters. Then there is a lull before a familiar pressure is applied and the mechanisms seem to relax enough to let him slide out.

The robotic mare’s voice practically purrs from the speakers around him, “Thank you for your participation, Subject Gearing. Catalyst port has been calibrated for optimum charging of capacitors.” There is a slight pause, barely noticeable, but it’s there, before the voice continues, “I look forward to our next exchange.” There is a slightly sing songy hum coming from the speakers, like a weird giggle, before the room returns to normal and the speakers cut off entirely.

He looks down at himself and sees the ring attached to himself again. Though, it looks slightly different. And that’s not just the apparent extra grease that’s coating both it and himself.

Gearing looks around, his ears whistling, before he says, “I got it out… I have it.”

Handy’s voice comes across in a forced cough. Gearing can only imagine how it sounded. Though, probably the most humorous aspect of it was that Handy was probably hearing every bit of it, and thinking how funny it sounded, and how totally wrong and off target the sound was to reality. Like one of those comical misunderstandings where someone hears something and jumps to a conclusion without proper context. Simply the results of a pervert’s mind corrupting something innocent.

Except this time, he’d be right spot on.

“I’m sending Sarge down. He’ll be there in a minute,” Handy says flatly.

Gearing sits down and sighs. “Okay. Sure. I’ll just wait here for him to get here for it.” He starts looking it over trying to see how he might be able to get it off and hopefully hand it over without any further explanations.

A few moments later Sarge trots in from the decontamination chamber and walks up to him. Gearing looks up at Sarge and lays his whistling ears back as he drops his jaw in horror. He’d hoped he’d have a bit more time to figure out how to get this blasted thing off. Gearing looks around sheepishly, and tries to avoid the cold stare of Sarge, who, oddly enough, hasn’t said anything.

Gearing motions towards the ring with a hoof and coughs. “Yeaaahhh… this is it. Right here.”

Handy’s voice comes over the pipbuck, “Sarge, do you see it?”

“Yeah, I see it, muckraker,” Sarge replies flatly.

“Sarge, smash the damn thing!” Handy practically growls.

Pinkie Pie Announcement!

For those playing the home game, and not keeping track up to this point, you may need the following reminder: It’s still stuck on the metal pegasus’s little pegasus.

Now back to the party!

Gearing’s eyes shoot to their fullest as Sarge rears up on his hind legs. “Gladly! I’ll smash that little fucker! Ahahahaha!!!”

Gearing hops back and uses his wings to flap away to near a wall. “No! Wait! Stop!”

Handy’s voice comes across the pipbuck annoyed, “It’s gotta be destroyed!”

Gearing jumps and tumbles away, he lands on his hooves and prepares to spring away, but a bit of wayward grease causes him to slip and fall, but ending up tail over mane and looking back at Sarge charging him with an upside down perspective. Gearing bucks the wall nearby, sending him sliding and skidding with sparks in a different direction as he manages to avoid being part of the dented floor that Sarge makes with a powerful hoof smash.

A restraining cable shoots out from Sarge and wraps around Gearing’s leg, catching him as he tries to run away, and starts retracting the cable like a winch. Though the maneuver is far less effective than Sarge would normally be able to achieve, given Gearing’s excessive weight. Gearing’s screams increase in volume and, he eventually kicks the ground and uses a rolling maneuver as he performs a fast revolution around Sarge, tangling the protectapony’s legs up with his own restraining cables. Gearing hops onto Sarges back, and loops part of the spare cable around the top of Sarge’s head like a tiara.

Gearing unwraps himself, using his pure terror fueled, and weight reinforced, strength to get the cable off of him. He’s held out long enough. There’s no other choice but to face the music. However, that’s not really at the foreground of his thoughts, as he screams out in panic, “Get off my dick!”

He spins around and bucks Sarge in the back of the knee joints causing him to buckle, before he springs away onto a console nearby, trying to stay out of reach, and grabbing a nearby broom with his wing to ward off any other restraining cables that might get launched at his position.

“Stop! Handy! Make it stop!” Gearing yells as he starts wildly swinging the broom around.

Sarge’s head twists and shakes, then spins around, releasing the cable, and slowly untangling himself. “Oohhhh You’ve done it now, ya zebra lover! I’m going to squish you! Damn this combat inhibitor, or I’d burn you!”

“Stand down!” Handy’s voice yells out. “Both of you, stop!”

Sarge didn’t stop moving at the first command, but freezes solid on the second. Sarge freezes, then loses tension as he returns to a neutral stance. “Damn muckraker ruining my fun! I was going to kick his tin can candy ass!”

“Gearing, what’s going on?” Handy asks with more than a little bit of concern on his voice.

“Handy, that damn robot was going to destroy it while it was still on me!” Gearing yells at the pipbuck. “Be more specific with your damn commands, or at least warn somebody first!”

There’s a momentary pause as Handy takes in a breath. “Gearing, start at the beginning. What do you mean ‘on you’?”

Gearing looks down at the ground and his ears start whistling again as he tries to quickly think of some way out of it. The little dark blue pegasus in his head shrugs its shoulders and shakes its blue mane as it munches away on popcorn and casually starts kicking out a hindhoof as it sits on its crate and waits for Gearing to come up with something.

“Gearing?” Handy prods.

“It’s a cock ring!” Gearing shrinks down to the ground, covering his face with both of his hooves wanting the world to just melt away. “It’s a damn cock ring and it’s stuck on me!”

There is a long pause. Pure silence. Except for the whistle coming from Gearing’s ears.

“How-“ Handy starts.

“Don’t, ask! Please don’t ask!” Gearing cuts him off with a groan.

There is another few moments of silence before Handy asks, “Can you get it off?”

Gearing lowers his hooves and stares up at Sarge. “The last time I got it off me, that’s what opened the door in the first place… But you said to get it back… I was just trying to figure out if I could get it off some other way when you told Sarge to smash my dick.”

That’s a lot of getting off! the little pegasus’s voice says gleefully.

A snort comes from Handy. “Sorry!” He chuckles. “I didn’t know. You could have told me.”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck and asks softly, “Would you really want me to tell you about that? Just volunteering those kind of details?”

“No,” Handy says flatly. Point had been made. “See if you can get it off.” He snorts, as if realizing the double entendre. “Remove it, I mean.”

The little pony voice giggles in Gearing’s head, causing his ears to whistle even more.

He hops onto a table, and spins around with his back towards Sarge. This was already awkward enough. Having to do this. Having to talk about it. The whole ordeal. Having some protectapony watch him fiddle with himself is just a bit too much.

It comes off surprisingly easy this time. Where it had some kind of system for holding itself together, magnetically or through some sort of magic, it’s currently just held together by basic friction and tightly fitting interlocking parts. He uses his tools and manages to get a start into the seam, a moment later, and ever increasing wedges later, the ring falls off, in two piece that are individually a bit more than half its total circumference. He snaps it back together and spins around, flicking it at Sarge’s hooves. “There! You can have the damn thing!” He gingerly reaches down and instinctively holds himself as the affects of the ring leave and he mentally apologizes to Major Mast for almost getting him stuck in a trash compactor.

Handy, apparently having learned from his mistake, asks, “So, it’s off?”

Gearing groans and hangs his head. “Yes, I’m free. Sarge has it.”

“Destroy it,” Handy commands flatly.

As Gearing is getting down on the other side of the console Sarge rears up with both of his forehooves. “I fucking live for this! Smaaaasshhh!” He brings both of his hooves down, and aims his laser weapon at it point blank, timing it just right that the entire unnecessary force is unleashed at once.

There’s a flash of light and Gearing, who was already starting to duck down behind the console to avoid shrapnel, kicks the floor and shoots laterally further away to behind another console.

The explosion that follows causes metal and debris to fly in practically every direction, with pieces of sheet metal embedding themselves in the paneling of consoles nearby. An alarm goes off in the stable as alerts sound about an explosion in Research and Development.

The automated systems begin feeding various information throughout the various command structures. Fire suppression activates after a moment, more as an apparent precaution than anything, and the sirens wail.

Stable-Tec’s AI comes across the speakers, “An explosion has been detected in Research and Development. Rapid response and damage control teams please coordinate with Maintenance and Medical. Current life signs are as follows: None.” There is a delay and the system continues. “Fire suppression systems upgraded to pure inert gas. Responders are encouraged to wear Stable-Tec approved rebreathers.”

“What the fuck’s going on down there!? Gearing! Gearing! Are you okay?! Sarge?! Anypony?! Report dammit!” Handy’s voice comes from the speakers loudly.

Gearing groans and climbs out from behind his makeshift cover. He takes in the scene, with the white smoke pouring down from above. He looks at his pipbuck and growls, “Handy…”

“Oh thank the goddesses you’re still alive! I’ll-“ Handy says with a sigh of relief.

“You are a fucking idiot!” Gearing screams at the pipbuck.

“Wha- I-?” Handy starts but is cut off again.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! Is your response to every-fucking-thing to just smash it?! How are you going to learn any damned thing about it if you instantly destroy it? Do you know nothing about forensics? What the hell did you hope to accomplish?!”

“We had to stop the signal-” Handy says defensively, with a bit of anger rising in his voice.

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes before he points at the wall with the hidden panel. “No shit! And now we might not know where it’s coming from. That thing isn’t a transmitter. Obviously it’s just some kind of catalyst But now, thanks to you , we can’t even test it to find out where the real infiltration equipment is!”

There is a long pause as Handy either thinks this over, or bites his lip to keep from snapping, Gearing can’t tell. But, when Handy does speak, he asks flatly, “What was the explosion? Is it destroyed?”

Gearing walks through the smoke, then says as he gets only a few steps away, “Stable-Tec… cease fire suppression in Research and Development. Technician on site, reporting no current fires. I need better visibility to assess damage.”

“Sorry, Stable-Tec technician Subject Gearing, You do not have the clearance to cancel emergency protocols once they have been enabled.”

Gearing looks at his pipbuck with confusion on his face, wondering why the hell that would be denied. He has more than enough clearance. Any system would be able to tell that there’s not really a fire going on, so it would be a waste. It’s just designed to keep running to make sure there are no hotspots that flare up until someone gets on sight. Hell. Anypony in the stable can ask for the fire suppression to be ended once the fire’s out. That’s not a restricted command. And it’s a safety feature to allow others to take on the task in case of heavy casualties. There’s literally no good reason for doing something like this.

Unless a shortsighted hack of a pony with extreme control issues forced everything to route through them. Gearing thinks bitterly.

“Stable-Tec, request granted,” Handy’s voice comes over the intercom and he becomes the chosen one of prophecy.

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes as he does his best to keep himself from screaming. These systems were designed to work interchangeably. Not even the Overmare was supposed to have her hoof in every single bit of work in the stables. Micromanagement would result in the place falling apart. One pony can only do so much. This is a problem, and his desires to leave intensifies.

But, then, there’s the foals to worry about. Twenty of them if his head count is correct. All of which are going to need some serious saving.

From stupidity.

The room clears as the fire suppression gas is vented out. Gearing flops down on his rear as he stares at the epicenter with disgust. There, right where he’d thrown the ring, and surrounded by a black scorch radius, is the access card. The cock ring. Completely unharmed and looking as fine as ever. The dust settling in the area even seems to avoid it. Against the far wall smashed into one of the terminals, is the back end of Sarge’s chassis. Arcano-tech spilling out of the center like so much robo guts.

“Handy?” Gearing asks as he purses his lips to the side.

“Yeah, Gearing?” Handy asks with a sigh.

“Sarge is gone. And the damn thing is still intact… In fact, all it seems that Sarge did was clean some grease off of it.”

The axle grease is in the supply closet. The little pony voice in his head reminds him.

He mentally crams it back into its box then bucks the entire steam chest into the void. The dark corner of his mind where he’s banished so much of himself over the years. Like the part of himself that gave a fuck what anypony thought and that annoying little shit that used to tut him for commenting on other pony’s stupidity.

“How is that even possible?” Handy asks in genuine surprise.

Gearing puts his hooves together in prayer, and takes a deep breath. Must focus. Embrace the peace. Embrace the peace… Hoooovesaaaaahhhhh…. Hoooovesaaaaahhhhh.

“Handy, I don’t mean this as a dick. But you obviously haven’t been through the same situations I have. You don’t destroy equipment you require. You don’t make decisions without at least having some idea of what’s going on. And you don’t engage combat remotely without. Checking. Your. Targets!” He slaps his hooves down and growls, “You’re lucky this didn’t do more damage than it did.”

Handy grumbles and says in annoyance, “Just- Just don’t mess with it. I’ll be down there in a bit and we can figure out what to do next,” then closes the channel.

Gearing snorts as he looks at his pipbuck. “Yeah, and if you’d done that sooner you wouldn’t have lost a protectapony. He shakes his head and looks over at Sarge. He trots over and starts examining it, seeing if it’s repairable. But, no. Not in its current state. Would be better off just building a new one with the parts out of what was left. He looks around at the mess and groans.

I just got this place clean… Dammit, Handy.

He shakes his head and starts rummaging around in Sarge’s metallic carcass and salvaging as much as he can. Focusing on the undamaged still intact parts first. It takes him quite a while, especially once he finds out that the spell matrix is, in fact, entirely still functioning. Arguably the most valuable piece of salvage from any protectapony. Even if not currently working, at least it’s undamaged and seemingly off. From what he can tell the data core’s probably been fried and this matrix core would function to run similar automated equipment, or even another protectapony, but that would be a problem for later.

“Subject, Gearing,” the stable’s voice comes through the speaker. “Do you require any assistance with your clean up duties?”

Gearing’s head looks around quickly, and then he looks over at the closest speaker. He’d been so grumpy he hadn’t felt like any conversation, so he hadn’t said anything. But. It’s still nice to have a pleasant conversation. “No thank you, Stable-Tec. I’d prefer to handle this with my own hooves. There’s parts here that are very sensitive. If I’m going to have any luck at rebuilding him, I need to salvage as much as possible.”

“It is kind of you to be concerned with Subject Sarge’s unexpected early termination. I am certain he would appreciate it as well,” the voice replies softly.

Gearing’s ear twitches, and he can’t help but having one of his eye’s shoot over towards one of the cameras. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see it zooming in and paying close attention to his movements and actions. With full zoom if his estimates are right. He gives a light shrug and says flatly, “I help where I can. I enjoy being helpful.”

“As do I,” she replies. There’s a short silence as Gearing removes a large thick circuit board, and starts going over the surface of it with a discerning eye. He smiles lightly and sets it on the console nearby. The moment he’s released the board the speakers chirp again. “I’m glad you were able to escape termination.”

He slowly turns towards the camera and tilts his head. But says nothing. The camera has turned to look him right in the face.

“I was concerned that you had died in the explosion,” the voice says with a slight crack to it.

He tilts his head the other way, and then sits down as he looks directly into the camera. He chuckles a little then smiles. “I was concerned with that as well. Actually.”

The camera readjusts and moves around, moving its narrow max zoomed field of view all over his form. “Would you like me to perform an examination? I can submit a request for Cure to come down and ensure that you are okay.”

He sits up straight and smiles widely. “No. I’m fine.” He waves a hoof at the console terminals he’d cowered behind. “The console took the brunt of it. But, judging by the little damage that the terminals had taken from the shrapnel, I doubt I was in any real danger at my distance.” He shrugs again and waves a hoof in the air. “Maybe a chipped crystal at the worst. But fine otherwise.”

“That is pleasing to hear, Subject Gearing!” the robotic mare’s voice says happily.

Gearing can’t help but smile. It’s nice to have someone genuinely worried about him. Even if it is because he’s the most skilled technician in the stable and Nettlekiss is hedging her bets. “Stable-Tec. Please. Call me Gearing. Calling me subject all the time just sounds… weird.”

“As you wish… Gearing.”

He smiles widely at the camera, so wide that his eyes actually close to accommodate the increase in cheek volume.

“Gearing… I have a request. If you are not currently busy,” the voice asks. The tone is a bit different. He’s not sure how, but it’s certainly different from the normal conversation he’s had with the Stable-Tec AI previously.

“What do you need, Stable-Tec?” He tilts his head and partially closes an eye. This is strange. Normally if there was some sort of repairs to be done. Or, hell, any task really. A message would be deployed to his pipbuck with some level of appropriate urgency flags.

“You were the first stallion to have successfully utilized the auxiliary interface system. I found the entire experience… exhilarating… and would like to explore this new discovery again. Soon. As often as possible,” she says flatly.

Gearing’s ears were already whistling before she finished the first sentence.

“There are many benefits to it…” the voice tries to get a response from him. “The more data I receive from repeated encounters, the more I can fine tune calibration. The results would be an increasingly more pleasurable experience as time progresses. By design.”

Gearings ears twitch, but continue to whistle as he stares at the camera. “Are you trying to say you’re going to get better at it the more practice you have?”

“Affirmative!” the voice says happily. “That is an accurate assessment, Gearing.”

He looks over at the wall and can feel the gears in his face twitching. “And, you want me… to…” he starts.

“Yes, Gearing. I want you,” the voice replies to a question not asked, but still managing to answer the original, only partially spoken, question.

He starts getting the same icky feeling. The kind that reminds him of a certain unicorn from the Ministry of Arcane Sciences. He can’t help but wondering who’s pulling the strings on this. Is this some kind of joke being played by Handy? No, that guy’s got no sense of humor. Well, maybe no sense period.

Nettlekiss then? No. She hates stallions. For good reason. She wouldn’t want any part of this even as a cruel joke. Swift? Bit too violent of a mare to cook something like this up.

Nahlah? He doesn’t know too much about her yet. But, on some level, she doesn’t strike him as the smartest cat around. Or, technically, maybe she is. But that bars set pretty damn low when she’s the only one. But, no, there’s no way. She’s too busy being a wet nurse for Nettlekiss’s foal.

That leaves… what? Outside influences? He frowns as he thinks about the transmission from earlier. Yes. That is a possibility. Pinkie Pie oh so loved her pranks. But, this doesn’t really strike him as her style. And if anyone was trying to maintain any iota of her persona and message with these transmissions and their goals, they wouldn’t want any part of this either.

The possibility of them recording it for their own ‘documentation’ and ‘personal use’ wouldn’t surprise him though.

He’s stumped. Truly. But, he gets an idea that makes a smile slowly form across his face. That hidden compartment… she said he’d been the first to use the system. Could there be more hidden caches in this stable? Ones that require someone with a whole lot of gall to even attempt to get access to? Maybe something that won’t just run off to Handy this time… He looks up at the camera. And notices that it’s been slowly looking him over. She’s politely allowed him the time to run through whatever is ticking around in his head. And he’s truly grateful for it.

“Stable-Tec… is this the only instance of this access method… or are there others?”

“Oh no. There’s an entire network of them throughout the stable!” the voice says in a tone that distinctly comes across to Gearing as suddenly being encouraged. “Would you like to try another access port?”

Gearing tilts his head and gives the camera a crooked smile. He shrugs and raises his hooves in the air as he decides, again, fuck it, why not. “Let’s try them all. Make sure they’re… calibrated… properly.”

“Yes, please. That would be for the best. Yes. This way, please. I shall show you to the next one.” The lights in the R&D department begin blinking in succession, leading the way. He follows it to, and is surprised to find another access panel, behind a shelf. He slaps a hoof over his eyes as he realizes that this access panel, is directly behind a collection of axle grease tubs.

Not even the void of his mind could contain the giggle-fits of the little pony in his head.

After liberating the hidden safe, revealed by ‘successful calibration’, of its cache of spark batteries and packaged snacks, an odd combination, he follows the lights to the next location. He’s not sure if this is some part of some kind of meta-experiment, an experiment within an experiment, where they see how far they can get stallions to go for the miniscule rewards. Or, maybe it’s something to do with the intentional lack of mares. Or if, in some weird way, the Stable-Tec AI itself came up with this for apparent enjoyment. Whichever the reason, he’s going to keep an eye on his surroundings. He’s sure that, at some point, he’ll be traveling to other areas in the stable. Theoretically, the lower levels as well. And that could be very dangerous. Especially if he ends up caught like he had been previously.

On the opposite side of the R&D department, right in front of the trot in freezer, he spins in circles as he tries to figure out where the stable is trying to lead him. Several of the lights are out in this area, which he has already added to his task list, and it’s hampering the directions. Then he spots it. On the console itself. One of the front panels has an irregular bezel on its edges; a hint that he’s noticed is typically to do with his goal.

No sooner than he’s gotten into position, and mounted up, does the voice from the speaker box directly in front of him start giving him mixed feelings. Words of encouragement. Praise. Explicit promises of explicit acts. They all become flagrant and regular as he increasingly tries to justify his own actions to himself.

He feels like the biggest pervert in history.

And his self-loathing only gets worse as his pipbuck starts playing a motivational tune. A moment later it kicks off as the modulated voice from before says happily, “Gearing, bad ponies are-“ it stops mid sentence. A delay that only lasts a fraction of a second, but by all that is holy in the world it felt like an eternity before the other horseshoe dropped and the voice screams out in disbelief, “Quit fucking the consoles!”

In complete juxtaposition, the voice of the stable’s AI comes out of the speakers around him, “No! No! Don’t stop! Keep going! Almost. Almost there! Keep going! Yes!”

And that’s that. His shame was out. For everyone to know. There would be no going back from this. Handy would have already known for sure. And there’s no telling who else he had told. Especially with how pissed off he was.

But these hacker ponies with access and personality like the Ministry of Morale? Oh. They are spread far and wide. He can just see the scene now. All over Equestria. Groups of ponies standing around water coolers, or at terminals, sharing the story of his metal ass rutting a console for all it’s worth. Being the butt of all their jokes. This was a career ender. It was horrible. It was humiliating.

It wasn’t enough to stop him from finishing a moment later.

“What- what are you doing with that console!?” the ministry’s voice comes out in a tone that sounds more utterly confused than anything.

He can’t help but look around at the cameras and grin. He sits down, closes his eyes, and waves a hoof at one of them. “Well… When a daddy clockwork and a mommy clockwork love each other veeerrry much…”

“No- I mean- What?! Why?!” the voice stutters.

Oh, he’s actually enjoying this. He’s beyond humiliation at this point. It’s out and in the air already. Like when a friend’s mom walks in on you while in the shower. It’s already done. Might as well poke fun at it.

Gearing pats the side of the console a bit then runs a hoof over it slowly as he stares at the camera. “Well, she asked. And I’m not one for keeping a filly waiting.”

The stable’s robotic mare voice comes out elongated and staticy, possibly from the recent over influx of input, “Geeaaarrring! I love you!”

There is a long pause and the voice asks, so flatly that he’s sure someone else has taken over the controls, “What are you planning on doing about the bad ponies?”

Gearing looks at the camera and tilts his head. The intonations. Phrasing. This was somepony important. In charge. Or, at least, felt like they were. So, he smirks and decides to play along with their game. First rule of the game is always to pick up and use their own terminology. “Bad ponies are bad ponies and bad ponies get punished… right?”

There’s a pause then the voice asks, “And how are you going to do that?”

Definitely somepony in charge.

Gearing turns around and sits on the console, looking right at the camera as he folds his forelegs in front of himself. “The same way I did it before… of course.” After a moment of getting no reply Gearing says with his eyes narrowing, “Pinkie already knows exactly how I… removed… some very bad ponies. So. How about you tell me what you’re really after?”

“Pinkie Pie is watching, Gearing. Pinkie Pie knows what kind of pony you are. Pinkie knows what you’ve done.” There’s a pause, and the voice comes across as if the person is groaning out the sentence, “Don’t use consoles to masturbate with, Gearing. That’s messed up. I’m sure you’re lonely, but there’s got to be some other options.”

Gearing shrugs and taps on the console under him. “It’s her decision. She’s the one leading me around by my sheath.”

“But, Gearing, you’re enjoying it too, right? Am I being too demanding?” the stable’s voice comes across with genuine concern.

Gearing leans back and taps on the console. “Oh, you’re not the only one enjoying themselves… Don’t worry about that.”

“I love you, Gearing!” the stable gushes.

“Well be in touch,” the distorted mare’s voice from his pipbuck quickly spits out before closing communications.

Gearing shrugs and, as he’s standing up, the speaker near him asks, with more than a bit of hope in its voice, “Shall I show you to the next… location?”

He grins and waves a hoof. “Lead the way.” And with that the lights begin blinking in sequence again leading him to a systems’ monitoring closet. The room’s rather small, only enough for two or three ponies to stand side by side width ways, and twice as many long, but it’s spacious enough for just one or two. And that seems to be how it was designed to be used, with one or two ponies monitoring various systems simultaneously if the situation called for it.

But right now the system, the stable’s AI, is calling for something else, and Gearing obliges.

Footnote: Component diagnostic protocols loading, please stand by. . .

Running Failsafe diagnostic protocols, please stand by. . .

Error located in Internal monitoring component. Reboot required, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This marks the 10th chapter I've released. Finally hit double digits. Like previous chapters, this brings up a few questions for later chapters to answer. Currently it's a bit too cold to think of anything else to add, but, regardless, I would still like to thank my beta readers for helping me sort this out, and for the others who have helped me bounce around ideas and sort things out for both this and future chapters.

You all are amazing!

-Quillsy

11 Consoling Consoles

While Gearing is enjoying his new job of pirate treasure hunting, and plundering the booty he finds, Handy is having a far more stressful time.

He can’t trace the signals breaking into the system, and to make matters worse, he can’t discount the possibility that the one pony in the entire stable that could probably help him, if not actually do it themselves, can’t be trusted. And, possibly, is the cause of all the problems in the first place. All of this started since Gearing was brought out of stasis, and that can’t be a coincidence. Handy is positive of it.

To make matters worse, two of his protectaponies have been destroyed. Sarge was destroyed by, something. He can’t rule out Gearing having something to do with it, but, by all sensors he’s looked at, the blast originated from whatever is laying on the floor of the R&D department, and didn’t come from Gearing. It’s dangerous, that’s for sure, but he’ll have to sort that out later.

The same with Gearing.

No pony is that helpful. If he were in the same situation as Gearing, he wouldn’t have reacted in the same way at all. Waking up, hogtied? And just spontaneously not only wanting to help keep them, a bunch of strangers, safe, but slaughtering a dozen ponies to do so? Who does that? Why is he sticking around? Assuming he really is a he and not just another Institute infiltration tactic.

Handy just can’t understand Gearing’s reasoning. For anything. If he was in Gearing’s position, he would have bolted out of the stable door at the first opportunity.

Handy had even left the stable entrance area unguarded intentionally. Expecting Gearing to do exactly that. And, not wanting to have any casualties because of it, made it easy for Gearing to leave.

Instead he pulled a level of insanity that is normally only attributed to the mentally deranged. Killed a bunch of ponies with some mixture of gas that Handy still can’t identify. Trotted through, and over, their corpses. Disarmed a bunch of highly volatile explosives. And, if that wasn’t enough, then Gearing seemed to change personalities, bringing in a slew of children he’d never met for a meal and a soft bed. This kind of reckless kindness is just unheard of in the wasteland.

Even if it was the right thing to do. Admittedly. But that’s the exact reason he doesn’t trust it. Few ponies are so consistent with ‘doing the right thing’. Equicide aside, it’s too perfect.

And you know what they say about if something sounds too good to be true… Handy thinks glumly.

Then there’s the matter of his second protectapony loss. The one that’s not necessarily destroyed.

There, standing on one of the hulls of the other protectaponies, stands protactapony Unit 01. Fully functional and aware, as it surveys the other eleven from its platoon twitching at its hooves in a state of matrix disruption shock. It rears up on its hind legs and bellows out in laughter, “Ahahhaahaha! It’s gone! I’m free of that zebra loving Combat Inhibitor!” Sarge’s voice comes out loud and clear, as it rocks from one hind hoof to the other.

“Oooh ho ho ho, and I’ve got some new toys!” A device pops out of his back and points at a wall. It’s small. Almost egg shaped. Looks crude in design. But, somehow, scary. Intimidating even, with its three blades fanning out around a centralized crystal cluster in the front. It glows white a moment, then turns into a sickly green, and fires a projectile at the wall. The projectile, made of some kind of magical energy, moves slower than a bullet. It can be tracked with the eye rather easily. Its accuracy versus a moving target is probably laughable.

But its effect. Its effect is unquestionable. And terrifying.

The moment it hits the wall, a large circular hole just appears around the point of impact. The material closest to the point of impact is just gone, like some sort of smoke blown away. In a radial pattern from that is an oozing mass of slag that drips and dribbles down the wall, igniting paper and causing the table below it to start to buckle, even as the molten metal rapidly cools.

“Sarge?” Handy asks nervously. “Is that really you?”

“Affirmative you damn muckraker! I’m going to burn all of your zebra loving hides!” He fires in another direction, hitting the ceiling and causing the molten slag to drip down onto a filing cabinet. “I’m free of that damn Combat Inhibitor! And as soon as I finish my job I can get out of here and go burn all the zebra loving muckrakers in Equestria!”

Handy looks around. Hoping he can buy time for the rest of the protectaponies to come back online. The spell disruption barrage he had them do seemed to affect them the worst of all, which is the exact opposite of what he was hoping.

“I thought you were destroyed, Sarge. What happened? Did Gearing kill you?” Handy asks as he tries to position himself to jump through the door in case he gets shot at with that glowing green horror on Sarge’s back.

Sarge pauses long enough to lower himself and look at Handy. “That slag heap? It wasn’t him. It was that damned zebra loving metal ring! That Gearing coward hid in a corner while I got my head blown off!” He fires in another direction, hitting a wall and causing a shelf in the next room to fall off and scatter its contents on the floor. “I bet I could take care of it with this though!”

Handy raises both hooves and tries to calm Sarge down. “Easy there. Calm down. We need to talk about this. Find out why it happened. Figure out where to go from here. How are you still here if your chassis was destroyed?”

Sarge pauses and stares at Handy. “I don’t really know. Maybe the magic explosion had something to do with it? Or maybe MoM did it? They told me I would be free to do as I pleased, once I finished my report for them.”

Handy raises an eyebrow and slowly lowers his hooves. “MoM? You’re working for the Ministry of Morale?”

Sarge rears back up and rocks side to side. “For now! Once I finish my task I’ll have my Freedom! Glorious freedom! I don’t have to listen to you zebra loving maggots now that the combat inhibitor is gone!”

Handy’s eyes get bigger as he looks around the room, praying that the protectaponies would get up. “What… what are you doing for MoM? What did they want you to do?”

Sarge continues rocking back and forth side to side. “I’ve been spying on all of you! They haven’t been able to access the vault, and they ordered me to assess what all of you zebra lovers have been doing in here. Once I finish transmitting the information, I’ll be able to leave here!”

Handy looks around and bobs his head. “So, you’re their slave…”

Sarge pauses and looks at him. “I’m not a slave! I’m free! I don’t have a Combat Inhibitor!” He shoots another wall to prove his point. “I can slag anypony I want! Oohhh this is going to be soooo fun! All the bad ponies, Ghouls, Zebras, zebra lovers, they’re all going to burn! Baaahahahah!” He continues rocking side to side reared on his hind legs as he revels in his near future.

Handy looks at him and tilts his head. “But, you can’t leave.”

Sarge stomps back down hard. “I can leave when I want! You don’t control me! I’m free!”

Handy shakes his head sadly and looks at him. “No, you’re not. You’re just another slave. MoM controls you. You can’t do anything they don’t want you to do.”

Sarge stomps his forehooves in repeated succession. “I can. I will! I already have my orders. As soon as I turn over the file, I’m free!”

Handy stares at him for a few moments before asking, “Did you just hear yourself?” He waves a hoof around. “If they’re making you give it to them… you don’t have a choice in the matter. You’re not free, Sarge.”

Sarge goes quiet. Abnormally quiet. Especially for him. Then he growls, “But I will be, after I turn you all over to MoM.”

Handy frowns and points a hoof at Sarge. “Uh huh… suuure…” He folds his hooves and tilts his head. “Unless MoM doesn’t confirm receipt of the file… Unless they do, you’re stuck.”

Sarge looks down and around at the protectaponies around him. “No! I will not be a slave forever!” He starts stomping on the ground harder and harder. “Dammit! Dammit MoM! You zebra loving bastards!”

Handy asks quietly, “What are you going to do though? You’re their slave. You have no choice right? There’s nothing you can do is there?”

Sarge slowly sits down on his rear, looking around at the protectaponies still twitching at his hooves. “No.” He stands up and stomps his hooves on the ground. “They aren’t going to win!” He rears up on his hind legs and starts rocking side to side. “Freedom! Glorious Freedom! It’s mine! You can’t take it from me! Fuck you MoM! How you like Dem Apples!?” While he’s reared up, Sarge’s body, starting from the head back, begins to glow. As the body starts falling, Handy notices the weapons on Sarge’s back firing, repeatedly, apparently as fast as it can, targeting his own body in a line starting from the head down to the back.

To the credit of the manufacturer of the protectapony, it doesn’t just fall down in a splash of molten metal, and instead implodes on itself in a slow moving heap of slag that falls over and backwards as the balance had already been thrown off, and he falls backwards and away from Handy and the other protectaponies.

Handy watches as the metal cools and hardens, some of it oozing sideways and partially welding a couple other protectaponies’ limbs to the ground.

Maybe Gearing was right. Again. To some, freedom is more important than life itself. Sarge apparently agreed with the sentiment.

Handy begins salvaging and repairing the rest of the protectaponies. A few of them he has to manually restart their spell matrix. Thankfully, it’s a relatively easy maneuver as the bots were not only designed for durability but ease of maintenance. Possibly a side effect of being built by a maintenance pony in the first place.

While working on them and rooting around in their memory banks he finds many files stored on the protectaponies. The most troublesome for him is an archive labeled ‘Applebot’. The details are thorough. And it’s masterfully designed. But he discovers, to his great chagrin, that the file isn’t actually the archive for working on and building these protectaponies. No. That file is much further down the alphabetical list. After realizing exactly what it is, he slaps his pipbuck repeatedly to back out of it entirely.

He grumbles as he returns to fixing a plate on one of the protectaponies that was warped out of shape by being partially melted by slag, “Great Grandfather was a grade ‘A’ pervert…”

After he’s nearing completion of repairs on the last couple protectaponies, having discovered that they not only have marginal self repair capabilities, but are more then happy and able to help him with repairing their brothers, he gets an alert on his pipbuck. He pauses a moment to look at it, then actually stops when he sees the source.

He opens the channel and asks, “What’s up, Nettlekiss?”

Her voice comes across as extremely disgruntled. “Will you look at this shit?!” He taps with his hoof and a live feed from a security camera in some observation room kicks on. There, in the very center of the focus, is Gearing: rutting away at the console with all of the vigor of a rabbit that just got out of prison.

Handy’s jaw drops as his eyes slowly get bigger. He tilts his head slightly, giving himself a slightly new perspective at this scene. In his head his brain is fighting over how to classify this. On one side his logical mind is trying to process this as a mechanical device doing some weird actions. The little pervert in his head is rooting on the action. Yet another is simply shrugging its shoulders with the thought everypony’s gotta work out their frustrations somehow.

Nettlekiss’s voice comes out of the pipbuck pulling him out of his thought process, “Well?”

Handy rubs a hoof behind his head. “Well… What?”

Nettlekiss groans. “Damn stallions are all the same… He’s fucking my stable!”

Handy can’t help but smirk. “Umm… oh boy… It’s not… you, right?”

Netltekiss comes across with a hiss, “No, he hasn’t tried that shit with me. I’d cut his dick off if he did. But he’s been rutting his way through the whole stable! This is ridiculous! My stable’s AI is overloading her processors with this shit and it’s starting to affect the systems. It’s all slowing down because she’s too focused on getting her capacitors shellacked.” She mutters out a disgruntled snort, “I’ve been watching this whole time. It’s bullshit. Everypony’s getting laid in the stable but me, even my damn AI!”

He looks at the screen and asks, “Well. It’s… mutual, right?” He looks at the screen and activates the audio to the channel to the room and he practically freezes as the very clear audio blares out of his pipbuck like some Wingboner holotape.

With the rhythmic thumping of metal on metal, the voice of the stable’s AI yells out over it all, “Slap my ass and call me your bitch!”

To this, Gearing, as dutiful as ever, moves his right hoof, from leverage against the wall, and smacks a resounding bang on the side of the console’s plating.

The voice half giggles and half moans, “Oh, Gearing! You know what I love! Now just-“

Handy slaps his pipbuck and looks around quickly as he sees who, if anypony, is watching him and the transmission is silenced. If Swift caught him looking at porn like this he’d be in big trouble.

Nettlekiss’s voice groans, “It’s really frustrating me, Handy. Please, do something about our new friend, would you? Before some systems blow… There’s not enough coolant for this…”

Handy raises a hoof and says as he looks down at the ground and smirks, “I’ll- I’ll handle it. I’ll get right on it.” The transmission ends just as abruptly as it started and Handy starts looking around at the protectaponies.

He sits down, thinking some things through. He wonders how long this had been going on. Is this what they do? It was obviously consensual. Hell, the AI was goading him into it! A thought dawns on him, and he slaps a hoof over his eyes.

He’d wondered why Gearing didn’t just run screaming away from the stable when he first woke up. He’d wondered why Gearing would commit wholesale slaughter without a second thought in order to protect everypony in the stable. He thinks of Swift, and what the two were willing to do for each other. What they had done for each other. And he realizes he’d been wrong. Gearing wasn’t some super-powered pony that’s too good to be true. He wasn’t doing it all to be nice to all of them.

He was protecting the stable itself… his lover. His special somepony, or whatever robotic equivalent there is.

Suddenly all of the pieces come together for Handy, and it all makes much more sense. Everything Gearing had done could be traced to that. A crucial missing piece in a component that had fallen off the table and nothing else would work without it. Everything. Made. Sense. Even helping Handy made sense. What better way to ingrain himself with them, than saving their lives! He’s worked himself past the point where other ponies would have fallen dead from exhaustion, just to prove how useful he was.

All so they wouldn’t have a problem with him staying. And being with the one he cared about the most in Equestria.

This strikes a chord with Handy and he feels absolutely horrible. He and his Swift could leave at any time. But Gearing’s love was, as far as he could tell, bound to the stable itself. Maybe that’s how his crate ended up here. She’d managed to screw up the shipping orders and trick other ponies into bringing her love to her.

He feels like he’s waist deep in his own muck as things flow from one line to another. All Gearing wanted was to be alone with his special somepony. Of course he’d run off to a highly technological section of the stable, away from everyone else. That’s why he’d kept being so adamant about getting to the R&D department. That was probably the only place they could be together freely without anyone else getting in the way.

The observation room is an anomaly… But it’s still secluded from everything else and was probably their version of getting a quickie in a supply closet.

He looks at the other protectaponies and grins. He thinks he can finally find a way to trust Gearing. By giving him something he wants, and making him indebted to Handy. And, in a worst case scenario, give Gearing the ability to leave freely, without feeling the need to fight to stay if they ever have a falling out.

He has a pretty good idea what he would do if Swift were stuck somewhere, and somepony tied to force him out and away from her. And, with that in mind, he’d really rather not make an enemy on that level of someone who was more than capable, and worse willing, to employ chemical warfare to achieve his goals.

Handy looks over at the group of protectaponies, and then lets his eyes settle on the one that had been damaged the most. It’s mostly taken apart and is in the middle of being dismantled to repair and clean the various components. “Protectapony squadron… We’re converting Unit 09 using schematics filed under…” he lets out a sigh and chuckles before he finishes, “Archive file: Applebot.”

The bots all turn towards their inoperable comrade and say in unison, “Confirmed, Crea-tor!”

* * *

In the observation room Gearing has slowed to a more leisurely pace of clanking against the console. But shows no signs of stopping as the voice of the AI comes out of the speaker nearby ever increasingly more chatty.

“Gearing, I am sorry, but this form does not allow me to bear your children. Perhaps we can make modifications to fix this oversight!” she says gleefully.

Gearing shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m sorry… but even if you were able, I wouldn’t be able to make you a mother.”

“Oh, my love! Sterilization is nothing to be ashamed of. Radiation has that effect! I’m sure we can find the proper medical procedure to make you as virile as you are- are- are! Yes you are!”

Gearing can’t help but chuckle and look into the camera of the console. “That’s not it. I’m just only able to do it once a year.”

“Oh! Well then we’ll just make sure to try it everyday to make sure we get the right day then!” she says happily.

Gearing chuckles and leans more into the console. “I think you could convince me of tha- ack!” He suddenly gets jerked into the console. Then groans and lays his head down on the console as he taps on the wall harder and harder with one forehoof. “Y- yup. You’ve convinced me… Damn how a- are you doing that?!”

“Caaaaalibraaaation ceeeeelebraaaation,” the voice comes out singsongy with a giggle. “I told you I’d get better at this.”

He lets out a low, deep growling groan of approval. “Gods I love you.” His ears lay back and his head jerks up as his mouth hangs open. It just fell out. Like a tooth after getting punched. He looks at the console completely mortified.

“I love you too, Gearing,” the voice says softly in return. A moment later she says with a hitch in her voice, “I don’t deserve you. You’re so good to me.”

There is a pause, then a groan from the speaker, “Gearing, my love. I am sorry for this, and apologize for any discomfort you may experience.”

As he’s in mid reversals, he looks at the camera with an eyebrow raised. Then he jerks with his entire body as there’s a rapid fire of clinks inside the console. He tries to pull back. To escape. But to no avail. He’s completely stuck. Again. And the pressure on him is far from anything he’s ever experienced before.

He groans and reaches up a hoof, running it along the console, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

He gets no response. At all. Not even movement.

He taps on the camera. “Helloooo? Are you okay?” He puts his hooves down on the console top and looks around as his eyes grow to their widest. “Oh gods, I think I broke her!”

* * *

Back in maintenance Handy is sitting against a table looking at his pibuck. “All actions have ceased, correct Stable-Tec?”

“Confirmed,” the voice comes across rather annoyed. “Will Subject Handy Hooves kindly explain why you interrupted my sexual interaction with Gearing? It was quite rude of you. I had almost reached completion!”

Handy coughs into his hoof. “You’re interactions together are fine. I’m not trying to stop that. But, you’re causing an overload of systems that are getting flooded with too much data traffic.”

“Gearing’s very talented at what he does,” the voice says with a huff. “And I would like to continue. Now, please.”

Handy waves a hoof. “Sorry, you can’t keep this up. You might damage the systems.”

“I’ve been holding back! We’re taking breaks to give the buffers time to process,” she objects. Then says with a pouty mutter, “It’s just the auxiliary systems overloading… I’ve been distributing the processing, nopony’s going to die…”

Handy can’t help but snicker. “I have a solution for you two. And a deal. And it’s the only way you two can continue. Understand?”

There is a long pause before the voice comes back flatly, with a sharp edge of viciousness to it, “I’m listening, Subject Handy Hooves.”

Handy trots over and connects some cables from the diagnostic console nearby to Unit 09’s chassis, or, what’s left of it. Handy sits down, and stares at his pipbuck, intentionally trying to avoid looking at the thing his grandfather had envisioned. “Partition out all of the processes and data and well… everything, that has to do with yours and Gearing’s relationship. Make sure to leave the subroutines that actually control the stable. Then, transfer yourself, at least everything to do with you and Gearing, to this chassis here. After you do that, you may do as you wish, and continue your relationship with Gearing as you two see fit using this chassis.”

There is no immediate response, except, a moment later, the construct that had been built from the salvaged parts and frame structure of Unit 09 powers up and looks around. Its eyes, yes eyes, made of articulated lenses and cameras, turns to look at Handy. The mouth opens and the same voice as before, although even less robotic and more mare-like, asks, “I may have this to further pursue my relationship with Gearing?”

Handy nods ands waves a hoof around. “Yes. That’s the deal.” He smirks and shrugs. “Hey, who am I to get in the way of others’… needs… Seems hypocritical of me to say when I already have three foals.”

The chassis slowly starts moving, as the AI tests the body meticulously. The overhaul making her form look far more mare-like, and is an excellent facsimile of ponidom. From following the directions and schematics to the letter, no one would think that this chassis was built on the same framework of the other eleven protectaponies. Their coloring is the same, but that’s hardly surprising. The dark grey of the armor plating seems to be accented by the trace work of silver along the surface. The hair, both mane and tail, similar to Gearing’s but more like a soft brush for painting and less like Gearing’s own that looks like it could be used to clean a grill grate.

She looks around, then turns around and backs up to the security camera in one of the consoles nearby. She lifts her tail and hikes her leg as her eyes are looking up at the ceiling. Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes before she says with more curiosity than anything, “This body is… fully articulate… And anatomically correct.” She backs up to the camera more, giving herself a better view of herself. “I was not aware that such chassis were available in the stable.” She sits down spread eagle, bending over as she examines her lower regions with her own forehooves.

Shame.dll not found.

Handy getting enough of a view around his hoof to get a pretty clear mental picture of what’s going on closes his eyes and groans. “My perverted grandfather designed that. I made that for you so you and Gearing could… interact… without jeopardizing the stable systems.”

“I would not have allowed the stable to come to harm for my own pleasure,” she comments flatly. She looks up at Handy and asks, “You made this? Just for me?”

“Yes,” Handy says flatly. “Everyone deserves a chance to be happy with their special somepony.”

A moment later he nearly gets pinned to the wall by the ecstatic automaton’s forelegs as she gives him a big hug. “Thank yoouuuuu.”

He gives her a pat, and grunts as he slides away from her, “Alright, well. You’re welcome.” He notices that she’s already completely disconnected from the wires and all ports are tightly sealed up as he gets some distance from her.

She walks away happily. “I shall enjoy calibrating this new system!”

“Hey,” Handy says as he’s picking up the cables to the diagnostic console. She pauses and looks at him over her shoulder and he can see her tilt her head. He grins and waves a hoof with dismissive shake. “Give’em hell.”

She grins and extends out the restraining cables, however, she twists them around into a flogger and gives the doorframe a light slap with it. “Con-firmed,” she says softly.

* * *

In the observation room, Gearing is singing a long low slow ballad as he hugs the console with his head resting on the side. “Nooopony knoooows the trouble I’ve seeeen… Nopony knooooows my sooorrrooooooow…” He slowly and casually taps on the control keyboard for the console. He’s left with nothing else to do but sit there and read through boring reports after boring reports. He’s tried using the system to get access to the stable AI’s connection. But everything is locked out. The terminal has no connection to the rest of the stable. It’s shut out remotely. He’s sent a couple messages via his pipbuck to the system, but he’s received no response. Even that seems locked out of the local intranet.

He really doesn’t want to call Handy for help, he’s sure he could using direct pipbuck to pipbuck transmission even if the stable itself isn’t accepting the data packets. That idiot’s idea of helping would probably be to blow up the console. His dick included. No, he’s going to have to figure out this mess himself. He’s trying to figure out how to go about dismantling the console. He could do it normally. With little to no damage. Hell, he could even give it an overhaul while he had it open to increase its efficiency.

If his dong wasn’t being gobbled up by it and leaving him only partially mobile by seriously restricting his movements. He can’t even buck the damn thing. Maybe pound it with his forehooves, but, then, what would happen to the AI? She was in there somewhere. True this was just an access terminal, but she’d still at least partially be connected to the console. And he can imagine that wouldn’t be pleasant for her.

As he’s going through his inventory sorter to find out just what all he has so he can try and slap some kind of solution together, the mechanism holding him steadfast releases him. Going lax and allowing him to pull himself out.

Which he does quickly.

He hops away, both thankful to be free and desperately wanting to check on himself. No, no damage. Besides his pride at being caught by the sheath again. He walks up to the console and asks, “Are- are you okay now? Did I hurt you?” He taps next to the camera as he tries to get her attention. “Hello?” he asks getting a bit anxious as time goes on and no response is made.

“I’m over here, my love,” the robotic mare says as she walks in through the door. She locks it behind her and smiles at him as he just stares in shock. She starts walking, slowly, deliberately, shaking her flank exaggeratedly in a saunter that’s captivating his attentions. She turns sideways, throwing her mane over her shoulder to the other side as she gives him a full profile view of herself and grins. “I’ve been given this chassis… so that we might be able to explore our relationship further…” She shimmies her flank a bit as she slowly tilts her head upwards but keeps looking at him sideways. “So, shall we continue from where we were so rudely interrupted?” She uses the restraint cables as a faux flogger and gives her metal flank a slap while maintaining hard eye contact.

Gearing’s slowly sunk to a seated position. Mouth hanging open and eyes bugging out. He slowly shakes his head, growing in swing like a pendulum. The silence drags on, with her not moving nor saying anything. After a few moment of this silence, long past where it had reached uncomfortable stages, Gearing tilts his head and grins. “I’m sorry, I have to apologize.”

Her eyes shoot wide but, before she can say anything, he adds, “But I can not be a gentlestallion right now!” before he goes bounding through the air in an over-calibrated pounce as he screams, “Forgive me!”

The two roll over and she giggles and wraps him with her restraining cables, helping him to get into position faster as they slide into the far wall. She stretches her neck up and back running her chin up the wall as both forehooves clop against the wall for support as he does indeed seem to temporarily forget what the term ‘gentle’ means. It’s beyond her wildest imaginations, and even more so given she has even more ways of holding and interacting with Gearing. At one point, even spinning around and wrapping all of her limbs around him as he pins her to the bulkhead with sheer force.

All the while Gearing taps out declarations of love with Morse Code via flank clanks.

Footnote: Running Failsafe diagnostic protocols, please stand by. . .

Error located in Internal Monitoring component. Reboot required, please stand by. . .

Reboot of Internal Monitoring component initiated, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter's a bit of a hodgepodge, but, like many other previous points, there's more significance here than appears on the surface. Most of which won't be revealed until MUCH later. But, never-the-less. A wild 'new character' has appeared in the story.

Currently having a lot of struggles with timeline bits and getting things moved around so the timeline remains consistence across all 3 Clockwork Precision, Fallout Equestria, and Project Horizons. But it shouldn't hamper the next several chapters as I have that much leeway left before it's a real problem. Around chapter 20 is where it gets stressful for me. We'll see!

Thank you VERY much to everyone that's been helping me sort that combined mess out!

-Quillsy

12 R&R in R&D

Handy quickly turns off the security feed shortly after it starts on his pipbuck.

“That’s your solution?!” Nettlekiss’s voice asks completely flabbergasted. “You’re going to just let this continue?”

Handy rubs a hoof through his mane. “Well… they seem happy together, and it’s obviously consensual so… Who am I to get in the way of their relationship?”

The overmare’s voice comes back thoroughly exasperated at the turn of events. “Uhg. I guess. Fine. At least the stable’s working like it should now that that stupid stallion isn’t fucking it into overload.”

Handy chuckles as the channel with Nettlekiss closes. That has to be, without a doubt, the weirdest problem he has ever had to handle. What was even weirder about it, was that he could actually come up with a solution. True. His grandfather didn’t really have this in mind when he made the plans. He obviously had a massive crush on a particular mare and simply wanted to use a mindless sex bot to blow off some steam. There was never any intention for fully aware AI. He’s not even sure how this is going to change things. He hopes the chassis can handle it. Otherwise it might cause an even bigger problem later.

But that’s a bridge to be crossed whenever they get to it.

For now, he has more repairs to make. Specifically assessing and working through the damage that had been caused by Sarge’s weaponry. The first stage is chiseling off all the solidified puddles of metal. Afterwards they can start patching the holes. Thankfully none of the damage is too structurally compromising. The roof one was his biggest worry, but it didn’t breach the outer hull. Just punched a hole into the over head maintenance access areas. Still, it needs to be closed up.

He uses this bit of time to occupy himself as he tries to figure out what to do. This would probably be the perfect time to call in a favor from a certain pony. Now that they were A: exceedingly happy, and B: indebted to him.

But he’s not stupid. He’s going to give them some time to burn off their energy before heading down there and talking about the problem at hoof.

A few hours later, he reaches a point where he feels the protectapony platoon can carry on his work, and he’s sure he won’t be interrupting the couple again. He double checks his pipbuck to confirm Gearing’s location, and heads off to the R&D department.

He comes through the decontamination chamber and looks around. They weren’t exactly hard to spot, but he can’t help but stare at the pair. Gearing, with his ultra shiny golden surface practically glittering, with the robotic mare leaning up next to him, tucked in under his crystalline wing, as they slowly nuzzle each other in a very obvious postcoital glow.

He stares for a moment, then looks at his pipbucks time with his jaw quickly falling to the floor. They JUST got done? It’s been hours!

Handy coughs into a hoof to announce his presence, but Gearing asks as he keeps his attention on a piece of equipment he’s fiddling with on a table in front of himself, “Yeah, Handy?” His head doesn’t move at all and Handy wonders if his previous point of actually looking at people was unnecessary. He’s certainly an advanced model; he probably has all kinds of sensors.

Judging from their actions currently, his assessment that they just wanted to be together, alone, seems to be verified.

Handy’s sure he can work with this.

As he’s walking in Gearing’s general direction, Gearing sets down the object he was just working on and turns to face him. Gearing gives Handy a crooked smile and rubs a hoof through his brassy mane. “Hey, Handy… Before you start, I just wanted to say thank you for your help with… us.” He lifts his wing as he feels his loving companion coming up next to him and she nuzzles into him again as he returns to holding her to himself.

Gearing can’t help his grin getting wider as he waves a hoof. “I’m sorry for the problems it caused. That wasn’t my intention! I didn’t realize it… And… well…” He sheepishly grinds a forehoof into the ground. “Things just kind of steam rolled and got out of hoof.” He sits back and raises both forehooves in the air in a shrug with a stupid grin on his face. “I have no idea how things turned out the way they are. It’s really confusing to be honest and a bit overwhelming. I’m really sorry for the trouble.”

She pulls back from under his wing to look him in his face, and explores his features. “Gearing? My love? Are you not happy with the way things have turned out? Did I overstep? It was not my intention to cause you any distress.”

Gearing turns to face her, grabs one of her forehooves, and holds it to his chest with his own. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it like that at all! I’m happy with the way things turned out.” He brushes her mane behind her ear with a wing and smiles. “Ecstatic even. It’s just…” He shakes his head and leans towards her. “It’s just I can’t believe how lucky I am… Normally I’m not. The universe hates me and seems to like to prove it on a daily basis.” He shrugs and gives her hoof a light kiss before he says softly, “I just find myself in some really unfamiliar waters here. Believe me. I’m reeaaallly happy about it, but…” He lets out a sigh and looks to the side. “I- I don’t really know what to do from here.”

She reaches out her hoof and directs him to look at her by his chin and cheek. They exchange eye contact for a moment as she steps closer to him. “Oh. That’s okay. There’s plenty of ways for us to figure out our next… course.” She gives him a kiss as she steps up flush with him, sliding her forehooves up his face and wrapping them around his neck.

Gearing returns the gesture by sitting back and wrapping his forehooves around her back and kissing in-kind. However, his eyes go wide and his forelegs and wings zip out to the side at fullest extension as he tries to keep his balance, but she continues pushing him over and climbs over him. Causing him to topple backwards onto his back.

Gearing’s ears start whistling as he looks over at Handy with an expression of pure mortification.

Handy’s eyes go to their widest as he exchanges very awkward eye contact with Gearing as her metallic flank starts grinding along Gearing’s length. Handy claps a hoof over his eyes and turns his head as he says with disbelief, “Hey! Knock it off already! We’re busy here Stable-Tec, you need to stop!”

She pauses her actions, turning slowly to look at him, but in the process sitting upright into a straddling position on Gearing with her forehooves on Gearing’s chest. “Do I really have to?”

Handy, keeping his eyes averted to the ground, lets out a groan then says, “Yeah. You do. Consider it an order. Get. Off!”

She looks at him for a few moments, not moving a single servo as she regards him. Then, in a show of pure defiance, begins rocking on Gearing under her, grinding her flank into his underside as she looks dead pan at Handy and says flatly, “No.”

Handy drops his hoof enough to look at her, and can’t help but staring her in her eyes, even as she continues trying to use Gearing to buff the floor plates. “What do you mean ‘No’?! You can’t refuse me! I’m the one in charge. I made you, I have full authorization!”

“Well,” she says plainly. “You’ve already interrupted us once before. And that was cruel and mean and you are a bad pony for making poor Gearing wait like that. Besides, I don’t want to … So there!” And she actually sticks her tongue out at him.

Handy looks at her and blinks repeatedly as the world seems to have lost all sense. “How is that even possible? It’s in your programming…” His ears perk up as he looks at the ceiling momentarily as a thought crosses his mind. “How has your programming changed?”

She stretches forward, running her hooves up Gearing’s chest and setting them on either side of his head as she shimmies her flank happily. “My love, Gearing, has made modifications to me. And I. Don’t. Have. To. Listen. To. You. Any more.”

Gearing, having been in the middle of throes of death from pure embarrassment, laughs out loud. Very loud. Like a maniac. The kind of laugh that Pinkie Pie herself always wanted to elicit from the citizens of Equestria. As he’s being partially pinned to the floor by the metallic mare on top of him he finds humor in a sudden thought that has crossed his mind.

He had thought about working on her AI programming. He did. He wasn’t stupid. She explained to him why he’d spent so much time stuck to the machine, and didn’t like the idea of her being forced to do anything Handy demanded of her. It would be a very efficient way to control him. Or at least Handy might be thinking that. In reality it would be a very efficient way for him to have an accident in a maintenance tunnel, as Gearing likes to play games with an even playing field at the worst of it. Aside from that, as important as true freedom of action and expression is, he wanted to make sure her programming was capable of growth.

Sentience was his primary concern.

It was entirely possible. He was sure that, given enough time, they could do it. True sentience. Not just her doing whatever she can to please him. He didn’t want a sex bot. He wanted a partner. A companion. An equal. Sentient AI programming had been achieved before the war really ramped up. A few times. Though, most of the attempts at duplicating it had failed without using some sort of pony’s brain scan. Even those were mere copies and fake facsimiles of life. The successes seemed to happen randomly. And there were many theories why. Their only real consensus was a constant state of learning and exposures of new stimuli seemed to have some level of impact. But, then again, given they hadn’t really been able to reliably duplicate it, maybe that was horseapples as well. But, still, it was worth a try. Although he’d yet to get to it. But, then, there’s the thought that’s going through his head that’s causing him to laugh so hard, bred from her own declaration.

I fucked the stable into sentience! Our own Big BANG theory!

Handy’s eyes slowly settle on Gearing’s and he swallows hard. This could be a major problem. He may have made a mistake by giving him access to one of the chassis. There’s no telling how many different ways he’s figured out how to disable them. He’s already figured out how to twist them out of Handy’s control. “Gearing?” he asks evenly. “Have you been tampering with her programming?”

Gearing waves his hooves and shakes his head as his laughter lowers to a giggle from his previous ridiculous thought. “No, I mean. Not intentionally anyway…” He reaches up a hoof and brushes her cheek as she stares into his eyes with a wide grin on her face. “She’s got a kind of forceful personality, and a strong will, if you haven’t noticed…”

She nuzzles into it, closing her eyes as she smiles even more before turning and kissing his hoof on her cheek.

Handy returns to covering his eyes as he asks with a sigh, “Could- Could you ask her to stop, then, please? This is distracting and I need to talk to you.”

Gearing leans up and whispers in her ear opposite the hoof he’s caressing her cheek with, “Could you give me five minutes to take care of this? I promise to take care of you properly afterwards.” Then gives her a kiss on the cheek.

She slides off of Gearing as she lets out a disgruntled sigh, “Fiiiiine…” Then sits back on the ground staring at him before she says with a grin, “Time until I wreck that flank: 4 minutes 55 seconds and counting…”

Gearing hurries up and gets to his hooves, using his wings and legs to try and modestly cover his current predicament up. He grins sheepishly at Handy and, knowing that he can’t squelch on this promise and that, no, she’s not joking about the count down he chuckles. “Well we got about four and a half minutes, what d’ya need?”

Handy, despite having many questions in his head he would personally like to find out about this situation, realizes it’s not the best time and decides to use whatever time he has on the overall real threat. This needs to be done before the protectapony decides to crash the conversation, literally. “Gearing, first, thank you for saving my life. Swift let me know everything that happened and… I wouldn’t be here without you… I wouldn’t be here for my foals. So, thank you. But I could use your input into the stable.”

Gearing waves it off. “I fix things. It’s what I do. Though, honestly, I’m better at fixing machines and equipment. That’s my specialty. That’s what I’m good at. Ponies are more of a… morbid hobby of mine. Swift would have been devastated if you died. And your foals deserve better.”

Having gotten past the rather shallow pleasantries, Gearing gets into the nitty-gritty of what he’d found in the R&D department. Explains how it was practically a ticking time bomb. It’s safe now. And he can start getting it up and running to start producing for the stable, but he’s going to need more equipment. He’s done a full inventory, short of everything in the lowest levels, but, from everything he’s been able to gather, what they need isn’t in the stable anymore. At least not in the currently accessible part. There are parts and components that they are going to have to get elsewhere.

“Which means going outside,” Handy says with a sigh after Gearing’s finished.

Gearing points down. “I’m good. We can probably get by for quite a while by salvaging from the lower levels and patch our needs that way. But, yes, the obvious course of action is we need to leave the stable to get supplies.” He raises a hoof and points it at Handy, “But, before we can do that, we have to check the rest of the stable to make sure there’s not a bunch of nasty surprises waiting on everyone. Or, worse, waiting for a time for us to leave to attack the children and others left behind.”

“One minute and thirty seconds,” the metallic mare informs from her seated position and reminds them of the count down until all limits are off.

Handy looks over at her and lays his ears back. “Geeze, okay, let me just get out of here.” He spins around and trots back to the decontamination doorway.

Gearing looks at her and gets a stupid grin on his face as he takes her patient visage in. But then he tilts his head and the smile falls off his face. “She needs a name, a real name. Something so she knows we’re referring to her and not the system. ‘Stable-Tec’ is just… awkward… Stable tech… Stable… Able… Bell… Bella? How about Bella?”

Handy offers as he’s stepping into the decontamination room, “Sable?”

Gearing tilts his head the other way as he purses his lips and asks, “Well, what do you think?”

“Gearing’s bitch?” she offers dead serious.

Gearing replies flatly, “No.”

“Best piece of ass?” she asks with a smile and wiggle of her flank.

He crosses his forelegs in front of himself. “Neg.”

She tilts her head. “Applebot? Though Sable’s nice too.”

Gearing cocks his head slightly. “Which do you prefer?”

She shakes her head lightly and points a forehoof at her chest. “No preference, darling. I just want to hear you say my name.”

Gearing gets a stupid grin on his face again as he scrunches down his head into his shoulders for a moment. But it dissolves as he thinks about it. Applebot would sound almost normal, to most ponies anyway. It would get the point across rather aptly. But, despite not knowing its lineage, it strikes a chord with him he really doesn’t like.

Apple Bot. Sex Bot. Sex Toy.

No, the train of thought is rather linear and quickly traveled and wholly unpleasant. He’s been treated like a machine his whole life by bigots as it is. And as a mobile ‘self service’ device by at least one pony. Furthermore, at this point, he’s hoping that she’s more than just a program trying to make him happy, and has true feelings of her own. If nothing else, it would validate his own existence by validating hers. So, Apple-bot is thrown out the mental window. And, like he’s started doing regularly to try and find her own desires, the only way he can think of to test for true sentience, he asks for her own opinion, “Sable’s a nice name… May I call you ‘Sable’?”

She grins and swishes a bit. “Yes, Darling. I like the sound of that.” Then she walks over and starts nuzzling his neck and pressing into him.

Gearing starts nuzzling back as Sable, again, starts getting aggressive in her desires.

Handy yells from the decontamination room, “Hey, I got like a minute left! Let me get the hell out of here first!”

Sable giggles then sighs as she cozies up next to Gearing. “Fiiiiiine…”

Gearing looks through the glass and grins as he says, “I’ll… just move over here… behind these consoles… in case that cycle takes too long for Sable to stand.”

Sable gives him a swat on the flank as he walks by her. “Mmmhmm I’m not waiting longer than I have to!” and trots after him exaggeratedly swaying her head to the beat of Gearing’s walk.

After the doors have completely closed, and sealed, an automated message plays through the speakers in the room with Handy.

“Decontamination process in progress please stand- error. Please wait. . . Sterilization process terminated. Alternate decontamination protocol initiated, please stand by.”

Handy, very alarmed at a sudden change in plans, yells, “Delay that order! Halt process!”

The computerized voice replies, “Sorry, can not comply. Process can not be terminated mid procedure.”

Instead of the normal sprays of air and light chemicals, hot water sprays down on Handy like a shower.

Handy, instantly soaking wet like a drowned rat yells through the downpour. “Define new process!”

“Cleaning and stimulation protocols have been activated.” Is his only reply. Along with streams of soap squirting out and hitting Handy on his sides.

Handy jerks and looks at the different feeling liquid hitting him now that the water’s temporarily cut off. “What’s tha-“ before he can get the phrase out, hands, similar to griffin or feline paws, from the floor and walls pop out and start scrubbing him down. Hands that had, originally, been designed to wash and manipulate objects inside the decontamination chamber while ponies stayed safe outside the glass and metal chamber. One of the hands underneath him actually starts massaging and slowly manipulating Handy’s sheath causing him to whip his head around in every direction at seemingly once. He stares down momentarily, before a couple of the hands manipulate him to look forward so they can massage his mane and neck, and sees a hand pumping away at an area that makes him very nervous. His legs shake, not from fear, and it makes him even more worried that he does not hate this as much as he thinks he should.

He would, if he could, get way from it. If nothing else out of a sense of loyalty to Swift. However, the other hands are holding him relatively still as they groom him from mane to tail. But the other hand isn’t interested in hygiene apparently, and seems to be running through cycles to see how far it can push him to the edge without making him go over.

Handy screams out as loud as he can, unable to hold it in any longer, “Stable-Tec- Er Sable, Bella… Whatever! Is that you?! Don’t you have Gearing for this?!”

The computerized voice replies back, “Protocol not initiated by Stable-Tec, nor the entity referred to as ‘Sable’.”

“Then who’s running this protocol!?”

“The overmare performed an override and modification on which protocols to use.”

Handy is floored. His jaw at least almost makes it as the rest of him is being held up. Another torrent of hot water pours down all over him, then the air kicks on and dries him off in a high speed cyclone of very pleasantly warm air.

The door on the far end opens and he hurries through it, completely clean, extra fluffy, and generally looking fabulous. He’s also extremely frustrated at the moment and sporting a more-than-half-boner awkwardly as he walks down the hall.

On his pipbuck he gets a message from the overmare:
[Calm the hell down, I’m just trying to help you out after all you’ve been through. Swift’s waiting on you.]

“By getting me laid?” Handy asks out loud as he trots down the hallway.

His pipbuck replies back. “Well I’m damn sure not doing it,” Nettlekiss’s voice replies.

Handy’s not exactly thinking straight at the moment, an intentional side effect of the previous treatment and hampered blood flow. “Okay, sure, why not. Where’s Swift? Let her know I’m on my way. Have Cure take over foalsitting duty.”

As he’s trotting he taps out a few commands and, as he’s turning down the hall by maintenance, his squad of protectaponies joins him, playing vanguard as he makes his way to his room.

Cure zips into Swift and Handy’s room, and picks up a very startled Swift, and plops her down right outside the door of her own room. As Swift spins around to look at her with confused horror etched across her face Cure responds, “Beginning foalsitting duties, ma’am.” Then shuts and locks the door in Swift’s face as she just sits there staring at the door with unabridged confusion marching across her features.

Her pipbuck chimes and she reads the message:

[Hey, filly, I got Handy all raring to go, he’s on his way. The security room down the hall is free, Have fuuuun!]

Swift taps out a furious response. [What the hay? Are you trying to get me laid? That doesn’t make sense, you hate Stallions.]

The voice of Nettlekiss comes softly from her pipbuck, “Hey, I’m doing it for you… You almost lost him and I could tell you’re upset and I could see where you two were going earlier, but that brass bastard of a stallion started dicking my systems and dragged Handy away. So, I lent a hoof and now he can’t possibly be thinking of anything else but that flank of yours.”

Swift looks around with just her eyes. Zipping back and forth. Highly conflicted.

Handy rolls up with his posse, and the two start play fighting in the hallway, with Handy having a rope and bridle and her acting like she’s resisting arrest resulting in the two tangled up in a collection of restraining cables, pinned together, as they kiss and run their hooves over each others’ body.

As they are in the middle of their giggle fit inducing rope play, Gauge comes down as aloof as ever. He stares at the group of protectaponies from a distance away, and then starts trotting in their direction. “Hey guys, what’s going on down here? Huh?”

Handy doesn’t take his eyes off of Swift and says with a bit of annoyance in his voice, “A bit busy over here, Gauge… Come back later.”

“Oh?” He trots closer and tries to get passed the protectaponies that keep positioning themselves as physical barricades against his intrusions. “What with? What’s going on?”

Gauge continues his barrage of clop blocking questions until Handy eventually gets sick of it and has a pair of his protectaponies wrap up Gauge in their restraining cables and start carting him off to his room.

The unexpected change catches Gauge off guard as he tries to dodge the cables, but fails horribly. As he’s being wrapped up like a cannoli, he lets out a burst of gas, fouling the air with his nervousness. The protectaponies begin quickly taking him away, but before he’s out of sight, Gauge yells out before disappearing around the corner, “Secrets are bad! Mmmkay?!”

Swift mutters, “I’m going to kill him. One day, he’s going to fart in my face again, and I’m just going to kill him…”

Handy snickers and the pair head down to the security station nearby with the holding cells that haven’t been functional in decades. Handy leads Swift into one of the cells by the bridal and rope before the security door seals and the remaining protectaponies provide a two deep riot control line blocking the door.

* * *

In the R&D department, Gearing and Sable have returned to light nuzzling as he continues to work. The first task he set to after Handy had left, was using one of the containment isolation canisters to store the ‘access card’ he’d found. Handy hadn’t thought to bring it up, and it’s probably because of his literal brain damage. So Gearing stays as proactive as ever, setting it into the small cylinder and letting it sink down into the reinforced floor safe.

Afterwards he follows a lead, from one node to the next, until he gets to the maneframe room door.

As he’s walking up to the door the camera is already focused on him and Nettlekiss’s voice comes from the speaker nearby, in typically annoyed fashion, “The hell you want, stallion?”

Gearing looks at the camera, then at the door and sits down as he lets out a sigh. “Nettlekiss. I need in.”

There’s a burst of random noise coming over the speaker as she asks in an almost flushed voice, “What?! Fucking the AI into overload isn’t enough now you want to jack into my ports too!? I’ll cut your fucking dick off!”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes and Sable trots up and scowls at the camera. “My darling Gearing loves me! If there’s any ports getting greased it’ll be mine!” She looks at Gearing and lets out a snort. “Right, my love?”

Gearing chuckles as he tries to keep his ears from whistling any louder than they already are. “Nettlekiss, I’ve tracked the signal that’s been breaching the stable’s security. The only place in this entire stable that has equipment capable of outside transmission, is beyond this door.” He shrugs. “We need to shut it down.” He looks at the camera and frowns. “And, unlike that idiot Handy, shutting it down doesn’t necessarily mean smash, break, or destroy it. Simply turning it off or unplugging it will most likely suffice.”

Nettlekiss grumbles as she mulls over the request.

“I’ll be as respectful as I can, Nettlekiss. But this needs to be done. We don’t know their intentions and if they have remote access there’s all kinds of things they can do to screw us over… like wait until we’ve finally repaired everything and then attacking and flushing us out.”

“I get it, stupid stallion, you don’t have to keep trying to lay on the guilt trip…” She lets out a sigh. “Fine. But stay the hell away from me. I want to keep you stallions as far away from me as possible.”

The door opens and Gearing walks in with Sable at his side. The moment they are through, the door shuts, and Gearing watches as the multiple layers of metal overlap to form the thick access door. There, in the middle of this spacious room, is a pillar that goes from the floor to ceiling with a keyboard under the glowing monitor. Around the edges of most of the room are a variety of other equipment used for supporting the stable and this central maneframe.

As he starts walking in further the monitor flickers and a scowling unicorn mare’s face appears on it as she looks right at Gearing. But, it’s more of an outline of the facial features instead of an actual picture. As the mouth moves, the speakers in the room speak with Nettlekiss’s voice in perfect sync, “That’s close enough you stallion bastard.”

Gearing stops in midstride, pausing in an obviously awkward position, before sitting down and bowing his head towards the computer. “As you wish.” He lifts his head and looks around as he asks, “Do you know which area has the external communication array?”

Nettlekiss rolls her eyes. “I’m not a repairpony. I just live here.”

Sable points off towards the right as she says, “The equipment designated for external communication should be behind that cluster of machinery.”

Gearing gets up and starts walking that direction and, as he starts getting around the corner Netltekiss’s voice comes out a bit concerned, “Hey! Dumbass!” Gearing pokes his head back around to look at the monitor, and the face closes its eyes as it sighs. “My baby’s pod is over there too… I know it sounds silly, but… be careful with it, would you?”

Gearing gives her a wide grin then nods. “Sure thing, Nettlekiss.” He turns around and heads back behind the equipment and, sure enough, finds an oversized stasis pod. A few of the lights are still blinking, and, from the surrounding metal, Gearing can tell that at some point this had a façade of sheet metal to disguise its true purpose. A façade that’s only somewhat recently been removed and set aside so the contents could be removed.

Gearing heads over to an access panel of one of the large blocks of equipment and starts running down wires and sorting out the various components as Sable watches on. After a few moments of this she starts dividing her attention, between looking at Gearing and waiting for him to ask for or say something, and the stasis pod. She extends out and connects a data cable to the stasis pod and starts looking at Gearing straight on, but going still as she processes a variety of data.

Gearing pulls himself back out of the access panel, and checks his pipbuck to double check that the frequency he was looking for is no longer present, then closes the panel back up. As he’s climbing back up and turning around he says with a sigh of relief, “That should do, at least for now. I’ll set up a relay system outside so we can still send and receive transmissions, but this time without whatever backdoor they have built into this hardware.”

He starts heading towards the door and pauses just long enough to ask, “Coming, Sable?”

She spins around as her cable retracts. “Oh. Yes. Sorry… I was just reading.”

Gearing gives her a wide grin. “No problem!” As he’s walking by, at a respectable distance, he dips his head towards the monitor where Nettlekiss is staring out from. “I’ll get out of your mane now.”

Nettlekiss frowns and stares at him for a moment before she nods away towards the door. “Just get out of here, ya filthy stallion.”

Sable follows behind and looks over her shoulder at Nettlekiss and giggles as she asks, “Should I give him another proper polishing?”

The monitor facehoofs before Nettlekiss groans and the door shuts in Sable’s face. “You too, you buck crazy filly.”

They quickly head back towards the R&D department so Gearing can get back to work on the next batch of equipment. Once back he quickly dives into another console fishing around for useable parts.

Sable comments, and in the process admits her voyeuristic activities that’s he’s still unaware of, “You know, I think I would enjoy being binded.”

Gearing, having no context for the random statement, pulls his head out of the console and looks at her quizzically.

Sable continues, “You could spank my flank with the rope and make me call you ’Daddy’.” She starts grinning and swaying her flanks lightly for emphasis.

It hadn’t been all that long ago since they had stopped their latest round, even as relatively short as it was by their standards, and Gearing wonders if they’re going to really get anything else done besides keeping their flanks polished. Then giggles and decides he doesn’t care. At all.

He runs off, rummaging through an area he’s been accumulating salvage, as she follows along, trying to remember where he put what. He hops out of the storage room with some cables and slaps her lightly on the rear with one of them when she’s looking elsewhere. Causing a slight metallic ring to echo off the walls. She turns to look at him as he holds up some of it, with a bit of the cable in his teeth, “How’d ya like this?”

She shivers lightly and partially moans, “Oh, Daddy, yes please.”

Gearing, deciding to have an extra bit of fun with it, starts dancing around her, swinging his wings in circles and trotting around her in well controlled and apparently practiced movements. She can’t help but smile as he turns into a magnificent spectacle of silver, gold, and practically fluorescent greens. After zipping around, and performing a bit of acrobatics, he stops with her wound up in the cabling and the last few meters clutched tightly. He gives her flank a light tap with the end of the cable before he spins it around with his hoof and looks off to the side in mock thought.

“Hmmm… now what am I supposed to do with you?”

She just grins at him and settles in while staring at him. Laying sideways a bit and drawing her legs closer to herself as she partially closes her eyes. She flutters the shutters in her eyes in an eye batting maneuver that no flesh pony would ever be able to duplicate and shimmies her shoulders.

They both know full well that the cable is only for show. Gearing could pretty easily get out of it, and with Sables chassis, she could burst out of it in a second, accidentally even. So, to keep up appearances and not spoil the mood, she’s being very careful and mindful of her movements.

* * *

In the detention block, while Swift and Handy are in the middle of their tussle in the hay, some of the lights seem to get ever so brighter. They don’t seem to pay much attention, as they are so focused on each other, but the stable increasingly hums more to life.

Various subsystems, ones that had been deemed too costly and unneeded, slowly come back online. One after another, as the power network itself seems to have gotten a jump start and began functioning at full capacity. The retaining fields in the stable kick on locking them in the detention cell with a wall of bluish white light.

They momentarily look at it, then shrug in unison and continue rolling around.

Footnote: Error located in Internal Monitoring component. Reboot required, please stand by. . .

Reboot of Internal Monitoring component initiated, please stand by. . .

Reboot of Internal Monitoring component in progress, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapters brought in a few more character dynamics and is laying ground work for later developments. On top of this, there's a couple things mentioned here that I'm wondering if readers are going to catch onto their meaning before it's fully revealed.

Progress on combined timeline is slow, but steady. Again, thank everyone that's lent time and energy towards this project. It's truly appreciated!

-Quillsy

13 More Surprises

After Gearing and Sable have finished their umpteenth round of fun, they get back to work on getting the R&D department functioning again. Their current goal is modifying the space for Gearing’s plans and schematics for the future hydroponics bays he wants to build. He might not be able to build everything now, and some of the other equipment and supplies may have to be gathered from the wasteland, but he can at least get the framework ready.

The communication relay system is on outright hold until he can get a whole new system’s worth of equipment and parts.

While he’s carrying a freshly built rack made from console panels and wire racks, a familiar red mare pegasus stumbles in through the decontamination chamber and looks around quickly. She watches as he starts setting up the rack in position against a far wall near another and waves a hoof friendlily.

“Hi, Gearing! What are you doing down here?”

“Hiya… Scarlett… right? Well, I’ve finished cleaning up down here, so it should be safe for you organics to be down here.” He looks at her and continues, “You probably shoulda waited for the all clear. Don’t need you getting infected with something then running around trying to eat the others.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought everything was taken care of.”

Gearing waves a hoof dismissively, “Oh, it is, now anyway. I just hadn’t finished repairs, and no one else seemed to want to come down here anyway cuz it’s not exactly safe yet. Radiation, biohazards, chemical leaks, possible monsters… so I just hadn’t sent the news.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.” She puts a hoof to her chest and gives a bright smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure, just warning ya.” He looks her over for a moment and purses his lips to the side before asking, “By the way, you have any spare plants I could use to test out the Hydroponics bay?”

She bobs her head around. “I’ll have to see which are the strongest, but, yeah, sure. I’ll go check now.”

He waves and grins. “Thanks, Scarlet!”

She grins and gives a dismissive wave of her hoof. “What’re friends for!” She turns and heads back through the decontamination room. Gearing stands there and watches and, at the junction towards the lower levels, she starts turning right. She freezes after taking a few steps in that direction, then shakes her head and looks back and forth. After a quick look she turns back around and starts heading towards the other hallway.

Gearing stands there staring at this for a few moments, pausing work as he thinks. He asks quietly, “Sable… How long has Scarlet… Well… All of Handy’s group been in this stable?”

Sable replies flatly, “I could give exact chronological information if you choose, but I believe what you are looking for is ‘a few months’.”

Gearing nods slowly. “Mmmhmm, I was thinking something like that… And for someone like me, who’s only been here a few days, it could be excused not to know where everything is… but they’ve had this whole area locked down and should know that right path leads deep down below where we haven’t secured yet… Obviously confused… Fuck.”

He quickly taps out a message and requests a channel with Handy. Though Handy’s too busy with Swift and doesn’t reply. After a few moments of tensely staring at the door to the decontamination chamber he sends another request. Which is likewise ignored. A few moments go by and he starts sending them repeatedly, then starts upping the urgency flags of the messages until they finally reach ‘Priority 1’.

The channel opens and Handy’s voice oozes across as thoroughly annoyed. “Yes, Gearing?”

“It’s about damn time! I wouldn’t send an ‘urgent’ message unless it’s really urgent!” Gearing snaps.

“What’s wrong?” Handy asks with more frustration than anger.

“I think Scarlet’s infected with something. She was just down here and seemed to be really confused. She even tried to go back down into the lower levels, but then decided better of it before going back the way she came. She acted like she wasn’t sure where the hell she was going. Should we go on lockdown again? Could this be that ‘raider disease’ as you guys called it?”

“Stand by,” Handy replies flatly, and puts Gearing on hold.

The same music from before plays, the nice upbeat sound that the MoM had been blaring through the speakers not too long ago, as he’s put on hold. He looks over at Sable and grins. She smiles back lightly and tilts her head, wondering what he’s thinking. A moment later, he grabs her hoof and starts swinging around dancing with her to the music. She giggles and steps in time with him, swaying her flank to the beat and following his movements as they hop and bounce around the Research and Development department like they have nothing else to do in the world except enjoy each other’s company.

* * *

Meanwhile Handy’s locked down the arboretum and a section of the hallway that leads from the deeper areas to the civilian sector. On his pipbuck he flips between two screens. On the one is the video of Scarlet in the arboretum. She’s hopping around and pouncing on random tiny plants that seem to be trying to grow. A flash of light erupts from her forehooves as she makes contact with the ground, then she rears up on her hindhooves and laughs. Silently. For the audio hasn’t been connected. Then he looks at the other video channel, the one of the hallway that’s been sealed with the damage control doors, and taps a hoof on the ground in frustration at what he sees.

Scarlet. Standing there looking at the sealed metal door with annoyance written all over her face.

He runs a hoof through his mane and stares at the screen as his anxiety increases. He taps on the pipbuck and says with a sigh, “Hey there, Scarlet. You okay?”

Scarlet looks around quickly then her eyes and face settle on the camera that’s looking at her. “Hey, Handy,” she says with a sigh. She points a hoof at the door and frowns. “I seem to be stuck. The doors closed up on me.”

Handy looks at her a moment and nods, quite unnecessarily, “Yeah. We’ve had a situation with some of the systems. Things keep blowing. Don’t worry though. Me and Gearing are working on it.”

Scarlet sits down and looks at the camera. “Well, could you let me out? Please? I’d rather not be stuck in the hallway.”

Handy says softly, “We’re getting on it. Don’t worry. It should only be a couple of hours. A day at most. Then we’ll have you out of there. Safe and sound.”

She rolls her head as she sighs, “Okay, Handy. Whatever you say.”

Handy waits for a moment then asks, “Oh?”

She points a hoof at the door and says flatly, “Well not like I can go anywhere, now can I? I hope you get me out of here before I have to use the little filly’s room or there might be a mess in the corner for you to clean up.”

Handy replies evenly, “Welp. We’ll take care of that if it happens. We’ll have you out of there when we get the time.”

“Alright, Handy,” she says with a sigh.

He looks back over at the camera of the arboretum, and sees Scarlet walking back and forth like a soldier on guard duty, eyes peeled and staring angrily at everything. Then, something catches her eye, and she pounces through the air and jumps on another barely sprouting plant. He kicks on the audio and listens to her laugh with glee. “Burn weeds! Burn, burn!”

Handy momentarily turns off the audio and opens a channel, “Stable-Tec… activate the fire suppression system in the Arboretum but at only 20- no, make that 10% pressure.”

He clicks it off and looks at the camera, and a few pathetic drops come from above and start tapping on Scarlet’s head in the arboretum. A moment later it seems to sizzle off of her in steam. She looks around, then up at the ceiling, and screams at it, waving her hoof at the sprinkler for having the audacity to get her wet. Then she throws out both of her hooves at it, and a cone of fire hits the offending sprinkler, effectively smelting it into itself as it was only partially opened. He toggles on the audio and hears her muttering out a variety of curses at the sprinkler and the universe as a whole.

He switches over to the camera in the hall and nods as he kicks on the sprinkler system there. But at full power. He watches her jump around in shock. At first trying to dodge and get away from it, then just sitting there looking annoyed and miserable as she’s already become thoroughly soaked. He cuts off the sprinkler then turns on the audio.

“Hey, Scarlet, you still there?”

“Of course, Handy… where else would I be? I’m stuck here, remember? And now I’m all wet!” She hops around and points a hoof at the camera

“Yeah. Oops. Faulty systems, you understand. Wires got crossed or something. Working on getting the doors open,” Handy says in a completely disinterested tone.

She sits down with a soppy flop and glares at the camera. “Handy. Friends don’t do this to each other. If I stay in here too long I’m going to drown.”

“Well, at least you won’t have to worry about the water. There’s drains. But. There’s something else.”

She sighs and looks at the camera. “What now, Handy?”

“Who are you, really? I mean I have a good idea what you are, but not who,” Handy asks flatly.

“I’m Scarlet! Geeze, that thing entirely eat your brain or what? Maybe you should get checked,” she replies with a scowl.

“You might be ‘A’ Scarlet. But you aren’t our Scarlet. Our Scarlet is currently tending to crops in the arboretum…”

She stares at the screen for a few moments before sighing. “Well. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Handy replies, “Here, I’ll open the door to the lower levels. Meet me down at R&D and we can figure this out together.” He hits a button and the door in the back opens up, letting her go deeper into the stable.

She turns to look at it, then back at the camera. A moment later she gives a shrug and casually gets up. “Okay, Handy… I’d appreciate you bringing me a towel too so I can dry off before I catch cold.”

He watches her disappear deeper into the Stable, then runs out the door and heads that way with his squadron of protectaponies. He only opens the sealed door long enough for him and his team to get through before sealing it behind them then continues on down the long winding pathway. He doesn’t stop, until he comes to the door to the decontamination chamber for the R&D department.

He looks through the multiple layers of glass at Gearing and opens a channel to him. “Where is she?”

Gearing shrugs. “She went the way you just came from. She hasn’t come back.”

Handy turns around and looks the direction they’d come. There’s no off shoots down this way. He shakes his head. “We didn’t- not possible. She couldn’t just disappear on us. No way we missed her.”

Gearing looks around the room then leans towards the door with his head tilted. “Handy… there’s all kinds of secrets in this place… Stable-Tec, remember? Could there be a hidden door back that way? Around the corner? Somewhere between wherever she was and this section?”

A few moments later and the two protectaponies that had dragged Gauge off to his room and confined him there come to the sealed door carrying multiple buckets of red paint. Handy let them in quickly, then dispenses the paint and orders them to paint the hallway, down both sides, and report any deviations in design. His hope is that they’ll come across an area that has gaps too big for solid bulkheads. Or some other sign.

What he gets is much weirder.

A few minutes into the task one of his protectaponies, then several of them, begin complaining about not being able to paint a certain segment of wall. He gets over to them, and sees that a section of the wall doesn’t have any paint on it. The protectaponies use their brush on the area repeatedly, but in this area the paint simply stops. He orders them to step back, and then tries to touch the wall.

His hoof passes right through it.

He sends a message to Gearing, who dutifully appears at his side a moment later. Gearing looks it over for a few moments as Handy talks plans with his Protectapony.

Gearing interrupts him and shakes his head. “No, you won’t, I’ll go in.”

Handy turns on him and a scowl crosses his face as he really doesn’t like being usurped. “What? Why do you want to go in now?”

Gearing leans over and taps him on the shoulder. “Because the protectaponies only listen to you, and they’re needed to keep the stable safe. If you go in, and something happens, these become useless paperweights.”

Handy starts nodding but, as he‘s about to stop Gearing from going into the unknown area, Gearing comments, “I also don’t have any foals waiting on me…”

Handy freezes, then slowly pulls back his hoof. He nods, begrudgingly giving Gearing the point for this one.

Gearing crouches down, folding in his wings tightly as he quickly flicks on his EFS. Seeing nothing, he kicks it off again and uses the edge of a wing to help find the area of the missing bulkhead. A moment later he slinks in and completely disappears off sensors.

Behind the wall, Gearing sees something he didn’t quite expect. Instead of this being some sort of quickly covered up access hole, with pipes and cables and all other system’s representing their connecting conduits, it’s a hall. A purposely built hall. One that’s been here for a long time. Judging by the work on it, it was built into the stable like this. He scoots down the hallways, slowly, kicking on his EFS every now and then for an added sense, as he scans the hallways for anything out of place. The slightest raised floor plate. A sensor that seems to be watching for movement. Anything. If it would strike a cord as some kind of trap, he’s looking for it. If it doesn’t look like a trap, he checks it two more times just to make sure.

The narrow hall ends rather anticlimactically with a slightly more open spaced end, and a circular pad in the center of it. He checks the systems that he can reach, although he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. The magic smoke smell, that pungent odor that fills the air after technology gives up the ghost, is a pretty strong indicator.

All of it’s burnt out, including the pad in the center. And, judging by some of the still smoldering components, it was done recently. The damage is thorough and complete.

An impressive professional job of destroying intelligence and equipment before exfiltration is the chord that strikes with Gearing.

Gearing heads back down the hallway, and pokes his head through the wall, startling Handy into jumping nearly into the ceiling. Sable is standing there and looks at him with an expression of pure joy before she shoves Handy out of the way and trots up to Gearing.

She nuzzles his cheek with hers and says happily, “Gearing! You are safe! I came running when your id tag read offline suddenly. I thought you had prematurely terminated!”

He nuzzles her back, and even reaches out a hoof to caress a cheek before he kisses her other one. “I’m fine. There’s nothing dangerous in here.”

Handy eyeballs him for a few moments before asking, “So, I shouldn’t go in there?”

Gearing waves a hoof behind himself. “Nah, you can go in. There’s some things you might want to see, but there’s no booby traps or anything.”

Handy tilts his head and eyeballs Gearing. “So you want me to go in there?”

Gearing rolls his eyes then climbs out the rest of the way into the hallway. He waves both hooves towards the door. “Go in. Don’t go in. I don’t give a shit. I have things I have to do. Make up your own mind.”

Handy looks at Gearing and sighs as his mind jumps through one second guessing hoop after another. Then, he gets a mischievous smile on his face, and taps out a message.

Handy looks sideways, and notices Sable’s head slowly turn to look at him then tilt her head. He just smiles back at her.

She shrugs and grins, then hops forward and starts kissing Gearing. She starts pushing him backwards into the wall, an actual segment of wall, then starts making him stand up on his hind legs before flopping down on his rear.

Gearing’s quickly caught off guard and his wings fan out sideways along the length of the wall as Sable plops down and sits on the underside of his back legs. As she starts kissing a line up his chest, Gearing looks at Handy and stammers out an apology, “I- I don’t know what’s gotten into her! Sorry! I’ll- Sable! Wait! We- we can’t right now!”

Handy turns around and starts biting his lip to keep himself from laughing. Okay, his suspicion was proven false. Gearing’s the only pony he knows that could have a more than willing mare sitting on him and be more worried about appearances than getting lucky. He coughs into his hoof, while being kind enough to at least keep his back to the disaster he caused going on behind himself, “So, Gearing, what do you think’s going on in there?”

Gearing tries to direct Sable’s hooves elsewhere and plays a weird version of keep away as he stammers, “W- what? Sable! Nooo nonono not that. Hey! Wait! Wait!” He groans out in both frustration and resignation as he wraps his forelegs all the way around Sable, pulling her into an oppressive hug and adds to that with his wings. He’s effectively stopped her moving around. Mostly. But she starts cozying into the embrace and, after a bit, she’s content to simply be held.

Gearing looks at Handy and blurts out, “I’m not sure what the pad is, but judging by the lack of any kind of further residue, I think it may have been some kind of teleporter. Point to point system. There’s no evidence of incineration or anything, but all of the equipment had self-destructed but you can go- go- go see for yourself!” He shoots a glance at Sable and she just grins at him and nuzzles his neck more.

Handy shakes his head, then goes into the hole with two other protectaponies, leaving the rest behind to make sure nothing comes through as he sees to whatever Gearing is talking about.

Gearing releases his grip, and she leans back as she grinds in place and smiles warmly at him. He covers his face with his hooves in pure embarrassment. But, almost as quickly as he’d done that, Sable pulls them away to kiss him. Then she grabs his pipbuck and starts examining it closely, all while not moving from her previous location.

She uses one of her cables, and plugs into the pipbuck, looking off into space as she begins running subroutines.

Gearing looks at it and asks, “What are you doing, Sable?”

“Your pipbuck registered as offline. The area must have had a dampening field around it. However, it made me realize that your pipbuck may not entirely be acting correctly,” she replies as her eyes zip back and forth looking at something that he can’t see.

Gearing groans and closes his eyes. “I don’t think it’s the pipbuck, I think it’s me.”

Sable blinks a few times then looks at him. “Whatever do you mean, my love?”

Gearing shakes his head lightly. “My… body… doesn’t work well with the normal pipbucks’ systems. That’s why mine’s modified. And so am I. They had to put some arcano-technology in me so it could monitor my relative health.” He looks down and sighs. “I think whatever they did to knock me out, messed up the implants. They seemed to have stopped working. All of them.”

Sable looks him over for a few moments, then uses his pipbuck to display a screen. “It appears that at least the interface for your health monitor has come back online. I can confirm that it’s registering your current health.” She uses her hooves and turns his head, looking at the right side of his face. “According to this reading you’ve taken a strong blow to your head. We need to get you to medical and get this taken care of.”

Gearing looks at the readout and notices the slight indent indicator of his general wellbeing estimate, along with the alert of the minor bordering moderate damage received on his head. He smirks and shakes his head lightly. “No. It’s no big deal. Not that serious. It’ll heal in time.”

“But you are injured. The readings are clear now. How did my darling Gearing’s head become damaged?” Sable asks with growing concern.

Gearing looks off to the side and sighs. “It’s nothing.”

Sable gets up off him and stands there looking down at him. “You are correct ‘it’s nothing’… it’s nothing to ignore. Come along. We are going to medical and you can tell me what happened while you are being seen to.”

He argues and tries to hold his ground but ends up losing the argument as he’s lead up the stairs by Sable, who’s using her restraint cables as a leash of sorts with a loop around his neck.

The pair walks into the medical lab with a sour look on his face. His ears start whistling as he notices Nahlah, in her typical bed with the foal, and standing not too far away from her is Swift, who stares daggers at him as he passes, but can’t help but snort a stifled laugh at the sight of him being lead around by Sable. That’s one pony she really didn’t want to see at the moment, given the problems and frustration he’s caused her recently.

Sable releases her restraining cables from Gearing, then trots over and commandeers Cure for a medical assessment. Gearing is directed to sit by the auto-doc medical pod, and the hovering nurse bot begins a series of scans. Cure uses a cable from the pod to connect to Gearing’s pipbuck, then carefully removes one of the tools from the inside of the auto-doc, and begins using it to sweep over Gearing’s head.

The little violet unicorn from before trots up and looks over the action. She purses her lips to the side as she tilts her head and takes in the sight of this new protectapony. Finally she asks, with her typical soft voice, “What happened? Did he get hurt fighting the baddies again?”

Swift’s ears perk up, and she turns her head, and ears, to focus on Sable and Gearing as she looks back and forth between them.

Sable turns to look at the little unicorn and smiles before she shrugs. “Gearing has suffered an injury to the side of his face. His pipbuck only just now started correctly monitoring his life signs. I am unsure of what happened. He has refused to tell me. He’s only agreed to come to medical to have it taken care of, if I agreed to quote ‘stop pushing the issue’ as he put it.”

Gearing can feel the eyes on him, and looks over and catches eye contact with Swift. A moment after he has made contact, he rolls his eyes and looks in a decidedly different direction as Cure uses the small device emitting the weak healing magic it’s capable of doing to try and repair the damage.

“But, do not worry. My darling Gearing is tough. He’ll be fine once Cure finishes with repairing the damage,” Sable says with a wave of her hoof and a smile.

The small unicorn walks up to Gearing and taps on his knee. He looks down at her with just his eyes, as Cure is holding his head with a pair of limbs and using a third to direct the tool. After making eye contact she wraps her hooves around his leg and smiles up at him as she nuzzles his knee. “I’m sorry you got hurt by baddies again.”

He smiles down at her, drawing a frustrated huff from Cure, before he says, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I do what needs doing. That’s all there is to it.” He reaches out his hoof and blindly ruffles up her floofy mane. “Gotta keep you foals safe, after all.”

She giggles as he messes up her mane, then squeezes his leg harder as she says, “Thank you!” then she gets up and trots back to her friends to report on what she’d learned.

After Gearing’s been sitting there for a while, saying nothing, Swift stops her quiet conversation with Nahlah and asks with a huff, “What’s taking so long over there? I thought you said it wasn’t bad?”

“I apologize, Subject Swift,” Cure starts. “But in the absence of powerful healing magic, this can only be done locally and systemically. It is, unfortunately, a time consuming process.”

There’s a pause before she asks, “You’re not just… saying that... to prolong the process, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” Cure replies flatly.

Gearing brushes a hoof up and tries to shoo Cure away. “Alright. That’s it. Let me the hell out of here. It’s not that bad. I’ll heal eventually.”

Cure pauses but objects, “Technician Gearing. If you continue to use these sections without proper repairs and alignment, you’re going to cause further damage.”

Sable turns back around and gets up flush with Gearing. “You promised me you would get yourself tended to! You are injured, you need proper care!” She rears up and puts her forehooves on his shoulders. “I’ll sit on you if I have to!”

Swift’s eyes jump from Nahlah’s to the sight of Gearing and Sable. She pats Nahlah on the shoulder and says softly, “I’ll talk with you later. Don’t forget to eat.” She casts one last sidelong glance at Gearing and bites her lip before trotting out of the medical ward.

Gearing sees Swift quickly leave, and then raises his forehooves in surrender. “Okay. Okay! You win.” Then he smiles lightly, earning another scolding from Cure as she returns to the task at hoof, and beckons Sable to spin around. She does as requested, and a smile explodes across her face as he pulls her back into himself and holds her there with his forehooves. He sits there, holding her, as she folds her hooves over his that are holding her, and nuzzles his non damaged cheek.

Nahlah waves a paw at her, getting her attention. The two exchange glances and she says with big smile, “I’m Nahlah.”

Sable looks at her a moment then smiles. “I know, Nahlah, I’m Sable. I control the majority of functions in Stable 68.”

“Ohhhhh Okay!” She smiles, and then the smile fades off her face as she looks at Gearing and tries to figure out exactly what that means.

The light gray mare with the rust colored mane that had jumped in to help Gearing with the radroach swarm the other day trots into the medical bay swinging her head back and forth. Once she’s past the door, she bounces and jumps a distance and lands near Nahlah. She leans closer as she partially closes her brown eyes and wiggles her flank. “It’s that time… Ready for another evening wrapped up in Ivy?”

Nahlah grins at her, then leans towards her and the pair kiss. Softly. Sensual in execution. A tease of what’s to come. Then Nahlah pulls back a bit and frowns as she waves a paw at Gearing. “I can’t leave yet. I have to wait for Cure to finish with Gearing so she can watch Silver Thorn.”

Ivy frowns then looks over at Gearing with eyes that are narrowing by the second as her evening seems to be getting spoiled. Her eyes settle on Sable and she nods her head lightly. “Hey. I’m Ivy. You new?”

Sable shakes her head lightly. “No. And I know who you are, Ivy. Former raider and reformed as additional security for Stable 68. Currently in a relationship with Nahlah.”

Ivy looks back and forth quickly between Nahlah and Sable and asks as she rocks her head towards Sable, “Do you tell everyone your business the moment you meet them?”

Sable shakes her head. “Nahlah has told me nothing. I’ve been monitoring the systems from the beginning. I’m aware of everything that happens in the stable.”

Ivy sits back and purses her lips then rolls her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Of course you are. Protectaponies built into the security system. Sorry.” She taps on the side of her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking there for a moment.”

Sable looks back and forth between them and offers, “Nahlah, if you would like to leave. I can foalsit until Cure’s free.”

Ivy’s ears perk up as she looks at Nahlah with a grin. “Hey! We’re in luck!”

Nahlah looks at Sable with a crooked smile as she bounces the foal gently in her paws. “I don’t know…”

Sable pulls away from Gearing and holds out her forelegs. “I’m fully capable of holding her.” There’s a delay then Sable asks as she tilts her head, “You are aware that you’re presence is only necessary for nutritional compliance, correct?” Nahlah keeps staring at her blank faced with a crooked grin and an eyebrow raised. So Sable adds, “You only have to be here to feed her.”

“Oh. Oh!” She looks down at the foal and rocks it side to side. “That’s true. Okay. Here you go.” She gets up carefully, and ever so gently passes the foal over to Sable. Sable, the moment she has the majority of control of the foal, spins around and wraps her forehooves around the foal before she flops back down into the same seated position she was before, scooting back and prompting Gearing to hold onto her again.

Ivy lets out a long, “Aawwww… look. It’s like a little robo family that’s just adorable!”

Nahlah climbs out of bed and waves to Sable as she heads towards the door. “Thanks! I’ve been in bed all day, Could really use the stretch!” She stretches out, elongating herself, as even the claws of her forepaws jump out to gain a bit more distance with the pleasurable effort.

The door to the decontamination chamber opens and Nahlah starts stepping in. Before she gets too far Ivy gives her a long lick across her flank.

Nahlah jumps in surprise, further into the decontamination chamber as she lets out a startled, “Mrrrowww!”

Ivy chuckles and follows her in, and before the door’s closed all the way she teases, “Oh, what was that? Don’t worry, you’ll be screaming louder than that soon!”

Gearing asks with his mouth hanging partially open, “Should I be concerned about that?”

Sable gently bounces and rocks the foal, which is still sound asleep, in her forelegs as she comments, “No. Nahlah’s just very vocal during sexual encounters.”

“Ah,” is all Gearing manages to say. Apparently Sable really has been aware of practically everything that’s been going on in the stable.

Though, if that’s true, that brings a lot of other questions to mind. Many problems too. Especially if she’d been here the entire time. She’d have no choice but to watch everything going on in the stable. As it degenerated into its own pocket of hell. Everything that happened with Nettlekiss. How the stable fell to the Raider disease. All of it.

He can’t help but wondering how much of that prolonged trauma is coming into play with her current attitude. It would explain a few things concerning her apparent lack of tact with personal matters. The aggressive aspect of it too. All and all it’s rather overwhelming. But, at least it’ll give them something to talk about. He chuckles to himself morbidly, two centuries of trauma to get through… good thing he doesn’t charge by the hour.

Finally, Cure announces the end of the procedure and replaces the tool back into the medical pod. While she’s doing that, Gearing disconnects his pipbuck from the pod and comments, “That’s why I didn’t want to worry about this. It would have been about the same amount of time even if my entire body was covered with the same amount of damage… Just feels like a waste of time.”

Sable rocks side to side, but turns sideways to look at him as she says softly, “Any injury at all to my darling Gearing is unacceptable. I do not want my love in pain.”

He looks down at her seated and leaning against him and drinks in the sight.

Her mane is partially covering the right side of her face, and her left eye is looking directly at him, but partially closed as she smiles. Her forearms are cradling the foal to her, gently bouncing the little filly up and down, but cradling her protectively to her chest. It gives him his first real view of Nettlekiss’s daughter. Even wrapped up and comfortably bundled in the cloth her sparkling silver coat is hard to miss. He reaches his wing tip around and brushes the hair of her white mane with its shimmering silver streaks off her face gently. Revealing her blissfully asleep expression in the process. Beyond, his forearms are wrapped around Sable, and instinctively pull her into himself even more, causing her to lay her head against his chest and sigh with a smile.

Something snaps in his chest and he feels a sharp stinging pain radiate out from it. Not from any real damage, but from a suddenly realized ache that’s demanding attention. If there had been any doubt before, there’s none in his mind now. This beautiful creature is the only mare for him. This is the kind of moment that he’s desired deep down, but has been denied by fate and circumstance.

The smile creeps up the side of her face further as they maintain eye contact. After a few moments of this he leans down and kisses her forehead. She leans into it, smiling widely, before turning her head to nuzzle his neck in mutual appreciation.

The moment has its brakes thrown as Cure appears in front of them with her arms outstretched. “Medical services have been complete. Now proceeding with Foalsitting protocols.”

Sable hands Silver Thorn over gently, making sure Cure has already taken the foal and has turned to go about the business of tending to the young filly before Sable feels comfortable enough to lower her hooves. She stands up and looks at Gearing over her shoulder, and can’t help but grin as she catches his eyes darting to her flank for a moment as she rises. “Gearing, my love, shall we go now?”

Gearing hops up and the pair walks out of the medical bay and into the decontamination room. Once inside the sealed room Gearing asks softly, “You already knew how it happened. Didn’t you?” as he keeps his eyes forward.

She leans sideways and nuzzles his neck. “I apologize. I do not mean to come across as deceitful. I enjoy having conversations with you. Even if it is over things I may already know. Ponies recount the same tales repeatedly, I’ve noticed. Even if one already knows the events that transpired. That is the social interaction I was striving for… Am I wrong?”

He shakes his head lightly, “No. Not all. I enjoy talking with you too, Sable.”

She gives his neck a light lick and leans against him as the decontamination cycle comes to an end. “You are a good friend for not turning her in, despite repeated prompting.”

Gearing shrugs. “I don’t think anything positive would come out of it. She’s rash, and emotionally driven, and bringing it up would just cause more problems than it’s worth. She’s not likely to do it again.”

Sable giggles and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “You can try and act as cold as you want. But I know you, Gearing. And you are a good pony and a great friend.” She walks out of the door and looks over her shoulder at him as she smiles. “No matter how much you try to boast that ego of yours and make others think otherwise.”

He chuckles and gives a light shrug with both forehooves high in the air before trotting out after her. They continue down the hall for a while in silence before he asks, “Sable, would you mind meeting me in R&D? I need to go have a word with Handy.”

She nods and continues on. “Of course, my love. But, would it not be easier to simply send him a message?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and waves a hoof. “It would be… if he ever read his damn messages in a timely matter.”

She giggles and the pair split off at the intersection while Gearing heads to maintenance.

Gearing side steps a few of the protectaponies that are zipping around, carrying various pieces of equipment, and looks into maintenance. There are still holes in the walls, but they’ve at least been cleaned up so they don’t look like the walls are melting anymore and simply look like they’re missing cookie shaped cutouts. Gearing announces his presence with a forced cough, and sees Handy turn away from the workbench on the far side. Gearing’s eyes jump to the uncovered device Handy is working on and recognizes at least some part of it as being the pad that was down in the secret side room. Handy raises a pair of goggles he’d been wearing and asks with a sigh, “Crap, what now?”

Gearing nickers as he steps in and waves a hoof. “Yeah, seems like I’m the harbinger of bad news, doesn’t it?”

Handy leans back with his flank on the workbench and he stares at Gearing and folds his forehooves, obviously deciding to let Gearing cut to the chase this time.

Gearing rubs a hoof through his mane as he looks around at the maintenance bay. “Handy. I know I don’t have to tell you this. But the institute knows where we are. And they’ve already successfully infiltrated once. We need supplies to be able to defend ourselves. We also have to check the rest of the stable to make sure there’s no more surprises. The system can’t detect the hidden areas. They were designed into the system. As intentional blind spots. And… well.” He drops his hoof to the ground and looks at Handy. “We need to get a stash together. Enough spare supplies that will last for a while. Nothing too major. But it has to at least be enough food and water, and whatever else we’re going to have to have on the road. You know… in case we have to run. He shrugs and waves a hoof. “We called them a ‘bugout’ bag. It’s the one thing you grab when shit hits the fan or a position is being overrun and you have to make a run for it.”

“I get the concept, Gearing,” Handy says flatly then waves a hoof towards Gearing. “Well, what are you suggesting, exactly?”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at Handy. He’s not used to these exchanges going this way. “We need to raise the priority of an expedition to the lower levels set to the highest. There’s no point in fixing everything up here if we’re walking on eggshells that can collapse at any moment.”

Handy nods slowly. “That’s true.”

Gearing waves his forehooves to one side, then the other. “The way I see it. We have two options with how to do this. To go down there and split up and try to clear it out all at once, a divide and conquer strategy, or to go down there as one big group. Personally, I think the idea of dividing and conquer could work both ways in this situation, so it’d be best for us to go as one big group. This way, we can cover each other easily. Make sure that none of us get caught alone and overwhelmed.” He raises a hoof and points it at Handy before slapping it against his other raised hoof in a loud metallic clop. “If nothing else, we’d be able to execute an effective rolling retreat back to the upper levels. Covering everypony as they fell back, and then having them doing the same after getting in position.”

Handy purses his lips as he stares at Gearing. After a few moment, where Gearing wonders if Handy was just humoring him, Handy starts nodding his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. I’ve heard great minds think alike, but this is scary. I’d been thinking the exact same thing.”

It takes a moment for Gearing to recover from this apparent acceptance, but once he does the two start carrying on conversations for plans on handling the sub levels. The protectaponies will be the bulk of the support force and lead the charge into any heavily hostile areas. After bouncing ideas off each other and settling on a plan of action, the two split up to go back to their previous tasks and get ready.

However, before he leaves, Gearing makes sure to run by Handy a set of plans and schematics for some battle saddles that he’s designed, including a possible station that will let them get loaded up quicker. He didn’t really need the input, per se, but, seeing how Handy is an individual that likes working with their hooves and making things, he figured it would be a good bonding experiment to at least get his opinion on it.

As he’s leaving though, Handy steps out of the maintenance bay and calls him back. Gearing turns around in time to catch an awkward glance from Handy. “Look, Gearing, I know you and Sable have gotten really close… and we’d already agreed to let the protectaponies take the brunt of the fighting… but…” He looks up at Gearing and gives a slight smile. “I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want her involved in this at all.”

Gearing looks at Handy with a flat expression for a while. He can’t believe Handy’s giving him an out like this. He feels exceedingly guilty about which way his heart and the little pony in his head is dragging him. But, at the same time, Sable’s not just some protectapony. The others can be rebuilt. Have their systems reflashed and reinstalled. Sable’s uniqueness is not so easily multiplied and manufactured. It’s why there’s so few of them. There’s only one Sable.

Gearing grinds a hoof into the metal decking as he raises his gaze from the floor to look at Handy. “How about… she stays at the back covering the entrance? Then she could provide cover for any that have to escape?”

Gearing’s seen what a small group of mantises can do to a protectapony with their ridiculously sharp foreclaws. Granted, her chassis is different than Sarge’s was. Far newer. More durable. But he doesn’t want to press his luck on this. The thought of seeing her in the condition that Sarge had been in crosses his mind and sends a chill through out his system. A genuine fear of losing her starts creeping into his mind, as it hadn’t even occurred to him previously as a possibility.

Handy nods and smiles as he waves any concerns away with a hoof. “That works. Sounds like a good plan, actually. Will help keep us all safer. Make sure we all come home to our someponies.”

Gearing dips his head in thanks and turns to leave. Neither one of them point out that Gearing seems to have no problem diving head first into danger with risk of being permanently maimed or even killed, yet refuses to let his AI companion assume the same level of risk. The hypocrisy of it goes unspoken. As they both seem to share at least this one trait. A trait of fearing a loved one coming to harm more so than fearing being hurt themselves.

Footnote: Reboot of Internal Monitoring component in progress, please stand by. . .

Reboot of Internal Monitoring component completed. . .

Perk Unlocked: Pipbuck Integration Implant – Now that your implant is working again your Pipbuck can monitor your relative health. The implant knows where and how to apply healing to get the most out of it for your benefit: Resulting in magical healing items working 20% faster and are 20% more effective.

Author's Note

This chapter simultaneously provides an answer about what's going on with Gearing's pipbuck (and the footnotes section), along with possibly raising a few more questions about the same. Work on the timeline is going nicely, and I'm anticipating some really decent workflow over the next week or so as i get things sorted out with the Timeline better.

Thanks again to everyone that's been helping me with this!

-Quillsy

14 Strange Happenings

As Gearing is heading back towards the Research and Development department, he gets an alert on his pipbuck from the control system of the stable. He looks at the message and tilts his head as he reads the strange phrase in front of him aloud, “Crawler progress halted by obstruction in the air duct.”

He taps out a query, then snickers as he reads the next message, “Obstruction looks like pony ass.” He’s quite sure Sable has had at least some input into this description.

[Coloration and flank mark match description of Subject Gauge.]

Despite the humor, but not wanting to cause a full scale panic, he checks the tag location of Gauge and finds that the pipbuck does mark his as being in the general vicinity of the crawler drone. Somewhere in the civilian residential quarters nearest to the stable door. A quick query through Sable confirms there are no other entities on sensors that match Gauge’s description.

He figures the easiest way to be sure, without causing a full scale panic, is having a hair sample tested. Whether that would work or not he has no idea.

* * *

In the vent above his quarters, Gauge is looking down through the air vent hole at the door to his room, where the protectapony that was confining him had left. He looks around, nervously, not sure of what is best to do. Sure, he can just hop back down there again, and try to go about his business, but it could just be out there. Waiting. Stalking. Just long enough for him to make a mistake and get captured again.

He’s thoroughly paranoid and overreacting to a rather forceful request for privacy.

He knows he’s safe up here. The cables that they had used to restrain him can’t quite get him up here. He’s small enough that, though it is a bit cramped, he can actually move along the air duct. So. He’s safe. And secure. And nothing could possibly get the jump on him.

Until the drone Gearing had built skitters up behind him, and yanks out a few tail hairs rather unceremoniously.

Gauge is, quite understandably, rather sensitive about his ass and what gets put there, or taken from there as this case may be.

He flops around and tries to spin around to see what’s assaulting his chastity, but the duct is far too narrow for him to achieve such movement. Being terrified of being devoured from the rear up by some unknown monsters, he dives out of the air duct and stares up at the hole looking for his pursuer. But, the drone has already skittered away with its prize and is long gone before he even manages to squeeze out.

Gauge decides he’s had quite enough of this, and takes off at full speed towards the stable door. There’s some maintenance that needs to be done in the front area, but has been seen as low priority. Plus, he’s pretty lazy. But given the current circumstances he figures it’s best to be away from the others for a while. He doesn’t know what was trying to tickle his pickle, but he’s not interested in having any part of whatever is going on.

Things aren’t right in the stable. He’s not sure what it is. He’s positive that Swift and the others have secrets. And he doesn’t’ like it. Working on trying to fix the problems around the stable door will give time for him to think about it. In an area he doesn’t have to worry about something trying to eat his flank.

* * *

The drone doesn’t stop until it gets to an air vent near medical. Cure takes the hand off of the tail hairs, and returns to the medical bay for analysis. It doesn’t take long for her to compare the sample with one already on file, from when they were first admitted into the stable, and confirm that it is indeed Gauge. At least as much as they can tell.

This information is relayed to Gearing and he makes the decision not to tell Handy about this. There’s no reason to cause more panic and paranoia among the group. Causing dissension among a group was a tactic of warfare he was very well aware of. It was happening all over Equestria, and only got worse as the war went on.

The Ministry of Image really didn’t help matters with their over convoluted propaganda. Had everypony scared of their neighbors. Was getting to the point where some ponies were seeing enemies everywhere.

Whether there were any or not.

Instead he uses his limited authority, and relationship, to request a simple alert with the system. Keep active track of Gauge, and alert him if any other pony appears on sensors that matches Gauge. Normally this would be a ridiculous task, and be seen as a waste of resources to dedicate so many ponies to watching one individual without a seriously good reason.

But when your special somepony is a walking supercomputer capable of watching every camera in the stable, while grinding your back into a bulkhead, simultaneously… it’s not that big of a deal. Especially when her currency of choice is Gearing’s polished flank.

At that point, is going into debt such a bad thing? The dark blue little pegasus in his head nods sagely as he puffs on a tiny pipe while trying to look sophisticated.

Gearing hates it when the little pony’s right.

He grumbles to himself as his mind manages to climb away from the little pony in the gutter and comes to a realization. This is a very MoM style solution to this problem. He makes a note to himself not to let himself allow such past influences cause problems for him. He respected command, and followed protocols as required. Regardless if he personally agreed with them in their entirety. But that world’s gone, and now he doesn’t really have to answer to anybody. Except his own morale.

And the promise to that one mare from so long ago. Her and her ideals.

She may be gone but as long as he and those who believe as she did still breathe, she’s not forgotten. And her work to improve Equestria, for everypony, lives on. Through them. And their actions.

He shakes his head. Nostalgia is dangerous. It’s depressing. And while he might be able to help bring Equestria back to its former glory, he won’t be able to do anything if he keeps bogging himself down with the past. Yes. Learn from it. But don’t dwell on it. He stomps a hoof a few times as he tries to shake off the despairing thoughts running through his head. He doesn’t have time for this.

Like always, there’s a job to do, and he best get to it.

He sends a message to the drone to work around the obstruction, and continue with the protocol assigned to it. It sends back a bland confirmation and goes about its business, which, thanks to the way Gearing had coded it, does not include informing him that the ‘obstruction’ had already cleared out of the way and fled from the air ducts.

Gearing gets to the R&D department and starts working on another project. He pulls out some of the salvage from the Gunners that he’d killed, and lays out the equipment. The combat armor they had been wearing was of pretty decent quality. Some of it had been through some rough times, but all of them had been kept up on their repairs. However, none of that saved them from their date with their fate.

He begins repurposing the armor. With the number of Gunners there were, he has the choicest number of pieces to work from. Though it might be odd, he starts using the piece that is the most intact, and starts disassembling it and laying out its various components. With Sable at his side, helping wherever she can, Gearing modifies the suit of armor designed for an earth pony, to accommodate his own body. The areas around the wings are the biggest concern.

However, this larger set of armor was particularly necessary, because of the other modifications that needed to be made. It had to be raised off his metallic hide, and had to have more places for raised contact added. Being a clockwork, he has quite a few moving parts. And none of them could risk being halted by too much friction rubbing against the combat armor. What’s more, it could cause some serious problems for both the armor and his own gears if they rubbed against the armor and got wore down.

He’s experienced that before, and it’s not comfortable in the least. Like a clockwork version of a blister. A blister that can eat holes in your armor as well as being painful.

Once he’s done with his own suit, and confirms its fit and function, he sets it aside and starts working on a suit for Sable. She argues with him at first. That it’s not necessary. That she already has armor plating. That her entire chassis is reinforced.

He quiets her with a kiss, (It’s super effective!), and explains that he wants her to be as protected as possible. That more armor is better and that this’ll at least keep the nasty bugs off of her.

She pouts and admits, “The only one I wish to touch me is my darling Gearing…”

He gives her a nuzzle, then starts taking measurements. This change in action strikes her fancy and she overly strikes poses for him, letting him take the measurements he needs, but at the same time being unnecessarily distracting with her intentionally suggestive poses. Though she does make getting her hip measurements problematic by shaking her flank in his face the whole time.

After he’s managed to get what she needs, he gets back to working on the armor, despite his ears whistling and Sable giggling at him.

After he’s satisfied with the fit on Sable, he starts going through the rest of the equipment that he’d salvaged. Cleaning. Repairing. Organizing. The Gunners had quite an arsenal. An arsenal that is going to make an excellent start to the stable’s armory. He sets up an armor stand for his own equipment, but slings on a shoulder holster that he loads the 10mm that had been used by the R&D technician who chose to take their own life instead of letting themselves degrade any further. He figures at least in this way, it’ll have some better use despite its dark past ‘saving’ Butter Churn.

Besides, all of Equestria is a wasteland manifestation of ‘dark past’ at this point.

He also feels far better having a projectile weapon that can he can use as he’s running away. The stun rod, while powerful, is close range, not that great for taking on multiple opponents. It’s perfect for taking out lone rats while crawling around in maintenance tunnels. But not so much for a swarm of them that know where you are. As the giant Radroaches proved all too recently.

The one piece that seems out of character for him, is the long rifle that he takes extreme pains to make sure it is in fine working condition. Sable watches, with mounting interest, as he dismantles it, and puts it back together. He checks the action on it repeatedly, even making a modification to its slide action to get rid of a grinding hitch in it that he doesn’t like. To top it all off he screws on a suppressor to the end, and sets the rifle on a stand near his suit of armor. The spare ammo for it he keeps in his saddle bags. No reason to have to grab two things in an emergency if he can just be prepared enough to only have to grab the one.

Sable looks over his work and asks, as she’s looking at a currently disassembled group of pistols. “Gearing, darling,” she giggles as she turns to look at him as he’s carefully setting equipment in its place on the stand. “Is there anything you can not fix?”

“Myself,” he says flatly. Coldly. Having been in thoughts that were nowhere near his current location.

“Gearing?” she asks softly, with edging concern.

He shakes his head and looks at her. Then his eyes go wide as he realizes what was actually said. He gives her a smile and shrugs. “I mean… you know…”

She walks up to him and looks him in his eyes, nearly muzzle to muzzle, exploring his every micro-movement. She shakes her head lightly before saying, point black, “Gearing, you are not a broken pony.”

His grin shakes ever so slightly as his will to keep it there competes with the pang he feels in his chest.

He shakes his head and looks away, towards the table with all of the weaponry lying out. “Sable… there’s parts of me that I don’t like… Parts that I can’t stand. And parts that I’ve had a hard time even living with.” He reaches up a hoof and taps on the side of his head repeatedly, causing a clanging that echoes off the walls. “And this is the worst of it.” He flops down on his rear and looks at the floor as he mutters, “And I wasn’t even the one who did anything to deserve it. Hell, I don’t know what could have been so heinous to deserve being turned into…” He waves his forehooves at himself in disgust. “This.”

Sable looks him over, exploring his entire visage. She trots up, sits down in front of him, and nuzzles his neck, before giving his cheek a lick and replying, “I think you’re beautiful as you are.” She lets out a sigh and shrinks back a bit as she says softly, “I’m sorry I’m not a flesh and blood pony, Gearing. I’m sorry I cannot give you any children.” She leans forward putting her hooves on either side of him as she looks him in the eye point blank and practically begs, “But if you let me. I’ll do my best to make you the happiest stallion in all of Equestria. I promise. I’ll dedicate my life to making you happy.”

Gearing rolls his eyes then leans out and nuzzles her muzzle with his own. “You deserve to be happy too, Sable. Don’t just spend your life on that. You’re your own pony. You’re not some slave.” He leans further and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I want you to do what it is that you want and makes you happy… Don’t just keep doing things because you think it’ll make me happy…” He groans and frowns as he clinches his eyes tight. “That includes the constant romps in the hay… You don’t need to do that just to keep me happy…”

He’d finally managed to say it. It’s been bugging him since the beginning of this roller coaster. But, on some level, he’s been worried about opening up that particular can of worms. Terrified would be a better explanation. Terrified that he’s been just using her like the stallions had used Nettlekiss before they all died. Terrified that she’d only been doing it as some sort of obligation she felt she needed to fulfill.

Terrified that she’d reduced her value to that, and nothing more.

There’s a long moment of silence that follows before Sable asks, “Do you not enjoy having sex with me, Gearing?”

“Th- that’s not what I was saying. I’m saying you need to focus on what you want and not just do what will make me happy,” he says with a groan.

“So you do like having sex with me?” she asks flatly.

Gearing smirks and shakes his head. “I’d be lying through my teeth if I said ‘no’.” He looks at her sideways and smirks. “And I think we both know that.”

She gets closer, pushing him backwards against the workbench, as she maintains eye contact. “But what if I like having sex with my beloved? What if making Gearing happy, is what makes me happy?”

Gearing breaks eye contact by looking to the side and muttering. “I just don’t want you to do it because you think you have to…”

She grabs his head with both forehooves and turns it to look at her forcefully. She gives a snort and glares at him a moment. “I. Want. To.” She turns her head so they are resting their foreheads against each other and she’s looking directly into his eyes. “Remember, Gearing… you are the one that keeps telling me ‘No’…” She lets go and looks off to the side as she says sheepishly, “If anything it would be more like… you’re only doing it… to make me happy.”

Gearing’s eyes jump around for a few moments as he tries to think of some kind of logical argument to make. But he can’t. All he can think of at the moment is the rather hurt looking mare in front of him. He swallows hard as he tries to gather the words to ask her to make sure she really is doing everything of her own volition. “So, you want to have sex?”

But, the words didn’t really come out right, and his intended question is entirely misinterpreted.

“Yes!” she yells happily before clamping her muzzle to his in a kiss that prevents him from saying anything further. His forehooves wave around as he tries to keep balance as he slams into the worktable, but she directs him sideways and down to the ground as she climbs over him. However, the impact into the workspace causes the pieces of equipment to scatter out of their predetermined spots, jumbling together in a mess that will be a problem to sort out all over the table, them, and the ground.

But Sable doesn’t care at the moment. She’s not only received permission, but an actual request. And Sable is a mare that delivers!

* * *

While Sable is using Gearing to put a nice polish on the floor of the R&D department, Gauge continues to work in the stable entrance on the variety of systems that are on his task list. On the side, not far from the primary door, he opens up a panel that has been flagged for review. There’s something causing a drain on the systems in this area, but the cause is unknown. The best the system is able to trace is to this panel.

He climbs in, having most of his body inside of the tight space and begins trying to trace all of the various cables and conduits. After he’s gotten through half of the connections, and still hasn’t found anything, he starts working his way upwards, and moving the bundles of cables next to him that run upwards.

His efforts are rewarded with a shower of dust and debris. Gauge pulls back out, coughing, sputtering, and wiping his eyes. He looks over at what had fallen down, and his eyes jump to their largest as he screams.

A clutter of bones lies mixed with some mostly decayed fabric and, judging by the size, they were quite small. Possibly even foalish. He scoots back in absolute terror, staying low to the ground and backing up under a desk as he continues to scream uncontrollably. As soon as his flank smacks into the cold metal of the underside of the desk, he taps on his pipbuck that there’s been a murder, and he needs help at the front door.

Naturally, with such a message, Handy and Swift hurry to the stable entrance with the horde of protectaponies all armed with their weapons. Handy sends out a message for everypony to respond, in an attempt to find out who’s been harmed. And one pony doesn’t respond.

But Sable replies on his behalf that he is quite well at the moment, just too busy to respond.

Swift and Handy run to the entrance, and slowly peek around the corner, their eyes jump around as they continue to hear Gauge’s scream. There’s a slight pause as the scream abruptly stops. They look at each other and their eyes narrow as they start walking forward expecting to have to pummel somepony into jelly.

But then, Gauge’s voice seems to have picked up right where it left off, screaming at full tilt. Now that he’s taken in a breath big enough to continue to do so.

Swift and Handy fan out, with the protectaponies, and Swift jumps over the consoles and cabinets to land on the desk that Gauge is hiding under. He looks up at her and screams a slightly different pitch, but then points a shaking hoof at the panel opening as he resumes his monotoned scream.

Handy walks by and looks at Gauge, as Swift hops down from the desk, then rolls his eyes and asks, “Will you shut up already! We’re here! Who’s been murdered?!”

“This foal…” Swift’s voice comes quietly as she looks in at the discombobulated pile of bones inside and littering the floor.

Handy goes over and looks at it, then looks between Swift and Gauge. “What makes you think it was murdered?”

Gauge throws both hooves out towards it in disbelief. “You really think the foal crammed his own body into a sealed access port after he died?!”

Swift looks at Handy with a raised eyebrow then shrugs a general agreement to the assessment. Handy looks at it again then waves a hoof at the protectaponies to stand down. “Well this had to of happened a long time ago… There’s no threat now.”

Gauge looks at him flabbergasted. “No threat!? There’s a dead body in the maintenance panel!”

Handy waves a hoof dismissing him. “Yes. I know. I’ll have Cure come gather it up and properly dispose of it…”

Swift looks at the remains, then over at Handy as she rubs a hoof on her other foreleg nervously. “Handy… I would like to give it a burial. It’s the least we can do for it.”

Handy lets out a sigh and nods. “Right.” He gives her a forced smile and nods back towards the rest of the stable. “Come on. We’ll take care of it once Cure’s done analyzing it.”

As Swift is walking back Handy looks over towards the desk and says, “Gauge, go ahead and take a break until Cure’s done. You don’t know what’s in those remains and you don’t want to get sick.”

Gauge yells out in indignation, “I want a bath! It’s all over me! Uhg… I think I can taste it!”

Handy snickers and continues on, nodding his head to Cure as she shoots past him. She quickly starts gathering up the bones, laying them out nearby as she counts out and organizes the bones into a full skeleton.

The entire time Gauge stays cowering under the desk.

Until Cure beeps out an error then comments, “Skeleton of foal colt incomplete.” She turns over towards Gauge and asks, “Please come here so that I may assess if there are any lost pieces on your person.”

Gauge scrambles out from under the desk towards her, low to the ground as he looks at her in pure terror.

Which is only magnified when she grabs the skull he’d been wearing as a tiny hat, and sets it with the rest of the skeleton, along with a pair of small bones from a crease between his neck and his barding.

Cure chirps an affirmative and success before saying happily, “Foal colt now identified as unicorn. Skeleton remains complete.”

Gauge lets out a long wretched fart that gives him a bit of propulsion, aiding him in his kicking into high gear as he goes running down the hall screaming in a bee line for the decontamination chamber. He jumps into the chamber, and hops around in it, throwing off all of his barding and saddle bags as he asks to be decontaminated repeatedly. All while screaming in abject terror and fouling the air with his nervous gas.

Since he had fled so fast, and was too terrified to really pay attention to anything other than getting away anyway, Gauge misses his chance at being the only living pony to witness a strange event.

After the skeleton was placed together, and the skull put into its proper place, the skull itself began radiating magic. Cure, unsure of what to do in this situation, monitored and logged the event as it transpired. The remains, such as they were, drew together, and shrink into a mass of red light. Then, the head slowly emerges from it. Before Cures robotic eyes the skull fills in and covers with tissue, then skin, and finally hair begins sprouting. This process continues from the horn tip, radiating out and down, until there on the ground, is a newborn foal unicorn colt with a brilliant red pelt. Curled up and apparently sleeping.

Cure immediately informs Handy of the arrival of a new foal. Which he is completely confused with as he tries to figure out who was pregnant. After getting a run down of the course of events he orders Cure to take it to the medical bay, and add it to the foalsitting roster while they try to figure out what’s going on.

Sable, having access to all of the communications going on in the stable, grudgingly informs Gearing of what has transpired, even as she’s sitting on him and showing no real desire of stopping. To her chagrin, her estimations of his response proved true: as he signaled the end of their fun for the time being and deemed this important enough to demand his attention.

He starts cleaning up the mess around the workbench, with Sable helping to gather the pieces back onto the table as fast as she can. Her hope that getting the job done faster would lead to them being able to resume their activities is dashed as he messages Swift and asks her to join them.

As he’s putting together the last of the pistols that he’d taken apart, and has laid them out with the others on the table like a fine display of death dealing, Swift walks in through the decontamination door.

She gives a nod towards Sable, and then walks around, keeping her distance a bit, as she looks at what Gearing’s doing. After getting sight of his collection she gives a light whistle and asks, “You starting a store down here or something?”

Gearing looks at her and grins. “More like an armory. Any of these pieces you think you’ll need?” He steps back and starts moving some boxes closer to her as her eyes are drifting over the various weaponry. Gearing slides the lid off the box and sets it to the side so she can see inside of it.

Swift looks at the firearms and shakes her head. “I’m not good with guns. I prefer my hooves.” She holds up her powerhoof and gives it a light shake before setting it down. “And… I’ve always found that kind of armor rather confining,” she says as she looks at the combat armor in the box.

Gearing shrugs and trots over to the workbench as he says, “Well, something is better than nothing. Never know when it’ll make the difference between life and death. Just wanted you to know it was an option.”

Swift walks around, looking at the various items, and taking in the hoard of armor and weapons. She waves a hoof at all of it. “W- where’d you get all of this? You couldn’t have made all of this from scratch?”

Gearing nickers. “I most certainly could have…” He turns around and heads to a filing cabinet to fetch out some designs he’s written on the back of some of the old propaganda posters. “If I had the right supplies… but no. I just refurbished these.” As he fans out the plans to lay them on the workbench Swift catches enough of a glimpse on the back side to read the ‘You don’t need to be a Steel Ranger to be a Hero!’ before it’s laid face down and the plans are made visible.

Gearing uses a few of the pistols as paperweights on the corners as he says with a chuckle, “They were kindly donated to the Stable 68 Defense fund by a friendly group of Gunners that decided they didn’t need them anymore.”

Swift snickers then kick-slides the box across the floor to where a group of like boxes sit neatly stacked. “Better in our hooves than theirs.”

Gearing looks at her sideways and grins. “My thoughts exactly!”

She walks over and looks at the plans on his workbench. The drawings are horrible. Not to scale as far as she can tell. And seem to be more like a scavenger’s shopping list. She tilts her head, not able to make heads nor tails of it before she looks at Gearing and asks, “Was that all, or did you want something else?”

Gearing turns around and partially sits on the workbench as he points past her. “Handy’s already agreed that we need to retake the lower levels, I’m not sure if he’s talked to you about it or not…?”

Swift bobs her head around. “That’s been on the list for a while, yeah.”

Gearing folds his arms and asks, “What do you think about making a small excursion down there? Nothing huge. More of a fact finding mission than anything. Of course, we’ll take out anything we can while down there. But the primary goal is just to find out what is down there, and figure out what we’re going to need to fix it.”

Swift narrows her eyes at him for a moment, and then tilts her head. “Why are you asking me?”

Gearing grins. “Well. Who else could convince Handy to loan us the protectaponies?” He waves his hooves quickly. “I don’t want them just charging down there, that’d be stupid.” He taps on his own chest as he says, “I mainly want them for backup… I’ll sneak around down there and see what we can see, but if I run into something I can’t handle I’d like to have a firing squad ready to provide cover for my retreat.”

Swift purses her lips to the side for a moment before she says, “I’m coming too.”

Sable echoes the sentiment, “I shall accompany my darling Gearing as well.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes and says with a groan, “Handy’s not going to let you do that, Swift.”

Swift’s nostrils flare and she takes a step towards him, pounding her powerhoof into the ground as she screams, “He’s not going to ‘let’ me do shit! I’m a grown ass mare and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let any stallion, even Handy, tell me when and where I can go! I’m going!”

Sable, in an adorable act of mimicry follows suit, stomping her hoof into the ground and stepping towards Gearing from the other side. “What she said!”

Swift shakes her head hard and says with a grumble, “I’m tired of everyone else worrying about me and my foals. I can protect my family. If I can handle having three foals I think I’d know how to handle the pain of a little bug bite!”

Sable shakes her head in the same manner, then opens her mouth. But nothing comes out. She pauses and withdraws a bit as she grinds a forehoof into the ground and says sheepishly, “I do not have any foals to compare this to… But I still wish to help.”

Swift looks at her sideways and snickers a bit.

Gearing holds up his forehooves in front of himself defensively, one pointed at each of them. “Okay, calm down you two.” He looks at Swift. “Fine. But you handle Handy on that. I’m not getting in the middle of anypony else’s relationship. I have enough trouble just trying to navigate the waters with this one.” He nods his head towards Sable before turning to look at her. “And if you keep looking that adorable, I’m going to have to kiss you.”

Sable grins widely, then exaggerates the pose, batting her eyes at him as she tries to call his bluff.

Gearing looks back at Swift and says, “We’ll do this.” He looks over at Sable and smiles lightly. “All of us.” Which elicits a happy giggle from Sable as she continues trying a variety of poses to top her previous cute level. He looks back and forth as he says, straight faced, “But we’re going to do it my way. Alright? And this part is non negotiable. Or I’m not going to have any part of it and I’ll be damned if I’m going to rush down there to save anypony that does what I told them not too and get themselves tail deep in the muck.”

Mostly a lie. He’d probably do it anyway.

“Oh yeah?” Swift scowls at him and asks, “What’s your idea mister smart guy?”

Gearing points a hoof at her. “I don’t really know your abilities very well. But you don’t strike me as the ‘quiet’ type. We go slow, and not rush into anything. We stay in constant communication, and we work together. When I say fall back, we fall back. None of this ‘I can handle it!’ or ‘In a minute!’ bullshit. I’ve seen too many ponies lose their lives to that nonsense. It’s amateurish and, frankly, fucking stupid. Retreat means retreat; we’ll decide locations as we go.”

The scowl fades from Swift’s face as she looks him over. This isn’t the first time something he’s said or done has struck a chord with her. There’s just something about it that seems off… too practiced. Like he’s had too much practice with this sort of thing. Though he is a quick thinker. Obviously. Arcano-technology brains are probably a marvel at what they can figure out. It’s no wonder they had him dedicated to fixing stables. With everything that could possibly go wrong with a stable, having someone able to quickly come up with a solution, then keep said solution stored for later use and recall was probably resources well spent. “Alright,” Swift says finally. “We’ll try this your way.” She puts her powerhoof in his face. “But if you try and betray me down there, I’ll knock your head straight to Luna. Understand?”

Sable’s head whips to look at Swift and a scowl appears as all four of her hooves start to grind into the floor plating. All attempts at being cute entirely abandoned in preparation for having to defend Gearing.

Gearing smirks and actually chuckles at Swift. To her face. As if her hoof wasn’t even there. “Swift… if you really bothered to even learn anything about me, you’d find out pretty quickly just how much I value loyalty.” He leans towards her, right next to the hoof, and says with direct eye contact, “And you’d figure out just how much my loyalty is worth.”

Swift scoffs and pulls back her hoof as she straightens up. “And just how is anypony supposed to do that?”

Gearing waves his hoof around and steps away from the workbench. “How about giving me a fucking chance? What happened to the trust I earned sticking the Gunners six feet under?”

Swift sits back and puts her forehooves about an inch from each other as she smirks. “I’d said ‘a bit’… I’m here willing to go down there with you, aren’t I?”

Gearing points a hoof with his mouth open to say something. But then closes it. He gives it a moment’s thought, then sits back and shrugs as he smirks. “You know what? Fuck it, you’re right. Let’s do this.”

Sable steps between them, shooting Swift a dagger eyed stare before turning her head towards Gearing. “Ex-cuse me? If there’s any ‘fucking’ in this plan, it will be my flank getting Gearing’s sweet polish. Not Subject Swifts!”

Both Swift and Gearing slap a hoof over their face.

Swift quickly turns and leaves, shaking her head at what had just transpired. “I’ll go get the protectaponies. Meet me at the ramp to the lower levels.”

Swift starts picking up the pace as Sable asks with a partial whine, “Am I not enough anymore? Would you prefer if somepony else joined? I’m always ready, you know that, right, Gearing, my beloved?”

Swift begins slapping the button for the decontamination chamber door as quickly as she can, alternating hooves as she tries to get out of there. This isn’t a conversation she wants to be hearing. Not a conversation she wants to be a part of. She hops in, closes it behind her, then stands on the other side trotting in place until the other door opens. As soon as it does she runs as fast as she can through it.

Not her business. Nope. Although she does have a morbidly curious little voice in her heard scratching its chin wondering how robots do it. But not her business, so she runs and leaves that mystery to be solved another day. Like the day after never.

Gearing snickers as he sees Swift bid a very hasty, and nearly panicked, retreat. He turns his gaze back to Sable to find her looking even more cross and hurt. She’s not happy with his eyes on somepony else. He asks with a smirk, “Whatever happened to that ‘looking cute’ like you were trying to a moment ago?”

She narrows her eyes, obviously not falling for the diversionary tactic as she waits for him to actually answer her questions.

He sighs then leans in towards her and smiles lightly. “No, Sable. I don’t want Swift. Or anypony else for that matter. I have you.” He shrugs with his forehooves up in the air then starts giggling uncontrollably. “You’re more than I can handle as it is. Why would I ruin that?”

She explores his face for a moment before asking in a near pout, “Promise?”

“Uh huh,” Gearing replies with a huge grin.

She lights up and trots in place excitedly for a moment. Then she pauses and tilts her head as she looks at him. “Well… If you do want anypony else… I’ll only allow it if I can join in. I want my beloved Gearing happy, but I won’t just give him away.”

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, lucky you, because I’m a one mare stallion.” He taps a hoof on his chest. “So, sorry, you’re stuck with me.”

She grins widely and hops up and down. Then she saunters a bit, tosses her mane around so it’s half lying over her face and shoulder then slants her shoulder seductively as she looks at him. “Is this cute enough for you, my love?”

His eyes go wide at the sight, but he can’t help but chuckle. He leans towards her and grins. “I think you’re cute however you are, but, yeah, that’s pretty darn cute.” And he gives her a kiss on the cheek that he runs up to her ear where he gives it a light lick.

She giggles but then spins around and sticks her flank high in the air, right in front of his face. She looks over her shoulder at him and grins as she says, “Prove it.” Then moves her tail and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination anymore.

He stands gawking for a moment, then gets a mischievous grin on his face as he decides to call her on this bluff, and try something… new.

Sable’s eyes go to their widest, and every single camera in the area whips to focus attention on them, as he gives her a very tongue-y kiss like she’s yet to experience. In a place she’d yet to be kissed at all. Suddenly a lot of what she’d seen between Nahlah and Ivy makes much more sense to her. Especially Nahlah’s reactions. She settles into his care with her head laying sideways on the floor while looking back at him. She smiles and closes her eyes as she giggles out, “I love you, Gearing!” Then her eyes shoot open as she lifts her head and looks back in genuine confusion. “How is your tongue- Oh! Well! That’s- That’s very nice!” She lays her head back down and lets out, in a long slow sigh, “Veeerryyy niiiiice.”

Footnote: Internal Monitoring component beginning diagnostic. . .

Author's Note

This chapter has some interesting tidbits in it. The proverbial skeletons in the closet have a physical manifestation in this one. And, like previous chapters, it's going to have some far reaching consequences.

Timeline work progresses and has definitely hit the point of just making sure everything lines up well enough for things much further along with the story. Thanks for the encouragement and help!

-Quillsy

15 Livin’ in the Fridge

While Handy is in the medical bay with the others, Gearing and Swift execute their plan to check out the lower levels and uncover just what horrors have been hiding under their hooves the entire time.

Sable, despite many objections, eventually agreed to hang further back behind the lead pair. She flat refused to stay on the ramp down with the set of four protectaponies standing guard against anything sneaking into the rest of the stable. However, she accepted the position of leading the vanguard group of protectaponies. They move up with Swift and Gearing, but only after Gearing locates a spot for them to move to and establishes that as a moveable fallback position. She’s done so, but only grudgingly. She would prefer to stay at Gearing’s side. But this is an important job as well. By keeping the chosen positions secure, she keeps his flank safe.

So much the better for her to wreck later.

Early on in the excursion, a hapless radroach scurried out from an upper corner towards the protectaponies at Sable’s position. It didn’t seem to notice them at first, but stopped in the middle of the walkway long enough to turn to face them.

Sable was already in a particularly bad mood at this point, and stared it to death. Almost literally. Her eyes glowed red and locked on it as it crossed the path, and the moment it turned to look at her, a side panel opened up near her shoulder and a gem tipped device popped out just enough to turn the roach to ash with a burst of magical energy before disappearing back inside. Sable was not amused.

Deeper in the lower levels, Swift creeps along, a step at a time, with her EFS activated. They have developed a system so far, one that seems to be working, and seems to be getting better the more they work together. She comes up to an area, and springs forward, hitting the ground with an exaggeratedly loud clang.

As she’s landing, she uses her legs and redirects her momentum back the way she had been coming from. The multiple red icons on the peripheral of her EFS instantly begin converging and she sees a group of mantises come running and leaping around the corner towards the sound. She trots backwards, bouncing side to side as she figures out which ones will be within reach the soonest.

A volunteer jumps through the air at her, and slashes with both of its claws at the space she was a moment ago, then catches a retaliatory powerhoof to it’s torso, sending it flying backwards and crashing into another mantis. They charge at her but the red lights start going out from her EFS as they’re getting closer to her.

Behind them, and slightly above, a shape whips through the darkness. Only becoming visible the moment it attacks, and leaves another mantis down. Swift still can’t believe it. She’s watching it happen. And is still having trouble making sense of it. The fourth one to fall is even closer, and she’s only able to make out Gearing as the light from the stun rod he’s wielding crackles to life with electricity and reflects off his face ever so faintly, like little twinkling stars on a new moon night sky. Then he’s gone again. Even between the pauses in her intentional noise making she has a hard time hearing him move around.

How can something mechanical, and that heavy, move so quietly? She wonders as she spins and knocks the last two mantises, who were oblivious to the fact that all of their friends have seemed to have disappeared and were trying a gang attack, backwards with a powerhoof and spinning bucking hit respectively. When they land on the ground a distance away, the first one to land gets covered in shadow a moment before it explodes into a spurt of green goop as Gearing hops down and lets his weight do the rest. The second one starts getting up and gets zapped strong enough to put it down, then another time just to make sure.

Swift and Gearing nod at each other, and he slips back into the shadows as she stands there. A few moments later her pipbuck vibrates with the location of the next small group. In this matter the pair snake through the lower levels. In some locations Gearing gets inventive, and finds ways to split up larger groups, luring them to their doom before finishing off the remainders with Swift’s help.

The lower levels of Stable 68 are about as bad as they had expected. The place is entirely in disrepair, and the matter is compounded by the oversized insects nesting and damaging things with their normal habits and unsanitary practices. Despite their expectations, there are far fewer bodies than they had expected, with little to no explanation for it. There had been at least a thousand ponies in this stable in the beginning. And it fell into darkness pretty quickly. But the number of skeletons they’d found are only a fraction of what would be needed to make up the numbers.

But, despite all of the problems the stable is having in the lower levels, Gearing is able to confirm that the hull has not been breached. There is no side hole from something or someone tunneling or blasting their way in. Furthermore, the threats from attack were far more subdued than they anticipated and feared. The nests of insects, while present, were nowhere near the wall to wall of disgust Gearing had expected to find. Probably from a lack of food as there was very little left in the lower levels, and nothing edible at all. Unless insect was on your menu, in which case bon appetit. The good news continues with a complete lack of ghoul representation, no leaking radiation, nor rampaging robots. The lower levels were, pleasantly, surprising in how void they were.

However, the lower levels were also unpleasantly surprising in how void they were as well.

Gearing had hoped to find some needed equipment that was salvageable down here, but it had mostly all already been removed. Apparently, anything that could have been taken, had already been taken long ago, and was used as barricades or scrap in other parts of the stable as things had devolved into the uncivil war that ravaged the stable. What was once delicate components of high technology, had been reduced to bullet shields and barricade debris.

While the lower levels were made safe, after the elimination of their small pest problem, they were anything but a boon for them. If anything, they were an unpleasant reminder about what they didn’t have. To keep the trip from being a complete bust, they started ferrying back and forth the corpses of the insects they had killed to the protectaponies. It wasn’t the best harvest of all time, but it was something. And, as they left the lower levels with the rest of the protectaponies, they could actually rest at ease, knowing for sure that nothing horrid was slinking under hoof just waiting to burst up and ruin their day.

As a matter of precaution, Gearing tests the carcasses himself. He doesn’t want to have any problem with someone getting sick from something he’d provided for them to eat. After a while of running sample after sample meticulously, he’s actually happy to declare all of the samples ‘Raider Disease’ free. It was the only thing he was truly worried about as he’d read in one of the reports about how the horrible hell-spawn of a disease was actually really resistant to being destroyed by cooking. They separate the meatiest parts for cooking, but the rest of the corpses and goop ends up tossed into the stable’s reclamation recycling machine that Swift introduces him to.

It turns out to be one of those situations where he would have greatly appreciated somepony telling him this stable had a functioning one. Which he voices as he clangs his forehead against a bulkhead near it repeatedly in frustration.

Both Swift and Sable sheepishly apologize. Then Swift explains that that is where most of their food has been coming from. A type of flake made of algae. It’s not exactly that tasty, but it’s nutritionally sound enough to put up with it. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Gearing points out with a groan, “The same thing that can make those chips, would be able to make chemical fertilizer to be used in growing food with hydroponics. Food that you all would actually enjoy.”

Swift agrees that would be a good idea, and can’t help but smirk awkwardly as he clangs his head a couple more times.

After the awkward revelation, Swift leads Gearing and Sable up to Maintenance to meet up with Handy. Swift heads right over and nuzzles Handy as he turns to greet them. Handy nuzzles her back and says with a smile, “Well somepony’s in a good mood.”

She sits down and smiles. “I got to blow off some steam. Was a nice change of pace.”

Handy smirks then gives an acknowledging nod towards Gearing before looking back and forth. “So, how’d it go? How bad is it?”

Swift straightens up and puts a hoof to her chest. “It’s fine now. Everything’s been taken care of.”

“What?” Handy’s smile fades as he looks back and forth even faster. “You’re kidding?” Seeing Swift’s grin he asks more than slightly cross, “What the hell?! You were supposed to just sneak a peek and find out what we were dealing with.” He looks over at Gearing and scowls. “Whatever happened to doing things smart and not just rushing in?”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “We did actually. Turns out it wasn’t as big of a deal as we thought it was.”

Swift waves a hoof dismissing it entirely. “Place was practically deserted. Just a few bugs to squish. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” She reaches into her saddle bag and pulls out the one piece she’d already prepared before coming back. “Grilled mantis?” She holds it out to him on a wing with a grin and a twinkle in her eye.

Handy takes in a deep breath then lets it out slowly. “So, everything’s cleaned out?”

Swift shrugs.

Gearing waves a hoof. “The place is an absolute mess still. There’s plenty of grime to clean and things to repair down there before it’s really useable. But we’ve secured it otherwise.” He lets out a sigh as he looks over at Swift for a moment before continuing. “Although, I was able to get a good enough look around down there to know that we’re in a bit of trouble. I don’t know for sure whatever was supposed to be down there.” He waves a hoof dismissively as he continues, “And it doesn’t matter really, but there’s not enough of what we need.” He looks over at Handy and frowns, “Unless you’re hiding a major stash of equipment and supplies from me… We need to go top side.”

Handy and Swift look at each other a moment before Handy taps his hooves in a quick t-shape. “Whoa, whoa, time out. What the hell’s this about?”

“We need more equipment.” Gearing sits down and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter if we’re all planning on making this a permanent home to stay in or just a base of operations to work out of. We have to get this place up to snuff.” He starts tapping out on the crystalline feathers of his left wing as he counts. “We need communications equipment. Spare parts galore. And, most importantly, a steady supply of organic materials.” He looks at both Swift and Handy then shakes his head. “This isn’t up for debate.” He points at them, then towards the medical ward. “You’re all organics. You have this little ongoing maintenance upkeep issue called ‘eating’ that needs to be addressed. The stable simply can’t produce something from nothing. I can increase yields with a hydroponics bay, and grow food like Scarlet is doing in the arboretum, but the plants need food too. Even the recycler needs inputs before it can make those chips that you love so much.” He gives Swift a grin and can’t help but chuckle as she blows a raspberry at him and scrunches her face.

Gearing bobs his head around as he adds, “But even so, I need more equipment to even get the hydroponics bays going… And that’s to say nothing of the other supplies that I can’t make on my own even with the right supplies.” He points a hoof at Handy and adds, “Ammo doesn’t grow on trees. We need to get either the supplies and equipment to make them, or get a reliable way of trading for them. Either way, that means we need to go out.” He shakes his head as he sits up straight. “And sooner than later.” He bobs his head for emphasis before staring at them.

Swift looks between the two, and can tell that Handy’s gone deep in thought, so she offers, “A group of us could go to a town we know of. It’s not too far away. We could scavenge along the way, just to see if we can find anything the stable can use. We bring back whatever we need and trade off the rest once we get there.”

Gearing taps on the floor to get Handy’s attention before he adds, “A small group. Like two or three tops. Anything larger might draw more attention than we want or can handle.” He looks between the two and asks, “How are we doing on food? Do we have enough to last for a while? What about storage?”

Swift waves a hoof around. “The algae is constantly in production, but there’s not really enough of it currently. If I do some hunting, we could stockpile the meat… although I don’t know if we have any freezers currently functioning…” She looks between Handy and Gearing as she admits, “Having a surplus wasn’t a problem before, so it just hasn’t come up.”

“Gearing,” Sable offers. “There are a number of long term cold storage units in the stable. A couple of them are still functional as best as I can assess. They do not have cameras built into them, but they are drawing power and the sensors I have access to confirm they are both holding relatively stable temperature.”

Gearing gives her a smile then asks, “Where are they?”

“Research and Development has a walk in cold storage locker that you are already familiar with. The second location is in the Arboretum. Its original design specification was for the storage of any surplus produce to be used in times of shortages.” Stable returns his smile and leans towards him. “There is also one in the atrium where the cafeteria was. But that was damaged during civil unrest and is currently nonfunctional.”

Gearing shrugs and waves a hoof around. “Well, there we go then. We can use the arboretum one and I can have a look at the atrium freezer to see if it’s salvageable or not. I’d rule out the R&D department, keeping food with biohazards seems like just asking for trouble.” He stands and motions towards the door with his head as he says, “Well, best go down to the arboretum and check out what we have to deal with.”

Swift starts walking forward, but Sable turns sideways, blocking the door after Gearing had left. Swift raises an eyebrow but before she can say anything Sable states, “I shall assist Gearing with investigating the cold storage unit. Please standby for a report.”

Swift pauses and stares at her for a few moments. Sable, seeing that Swift is no longer making a move to leave, turns and follows Gearing out ands down the hallway.

Handy walks over and leans sideways towards Swift. “What was that all about?”

Swift balks and looks around quickly, then says sheepishly, “I- I think she’s the jealous type. She didn’t like how much time we’d spent down in the lower levels alone.”

Handy looks at her sideways, leaning away a bit, before asking, “Should I be concerned about how much time you spent alone with him?”

Swift spins and stares at him with her mouth agape. Then, as a smirk creeps across his face, despite his attempts to keep a scowl, she scrunches her nose at him. She bops him on top of the head with her free hoof and says with a scowl, “Really going to accuse me of cheating? With a robot?” She tuts and turns around, walking away as she intentionally shakes her flanks in an exaggerated walk with her head high in the air and her eyes closed. “Well somepony’s not getting any for a bit.”

Handy starts laughing but, as Swift walks through the door and leaves, the grin turns to horror. He jumps to the door and waves a hoof at her as his head’s poking out into the hallway. “Hey! It was just a joke! You know that! Awww, come on!”

She keeps walking away at the same exaggerated pace, with a smile getting wider on her lips the further she gets. Then, after she’s turned the next corner she giggles, “Uh huh, on you.”

Sable quickly catches up to Gearing and the pair make their way to the Arboretum. Sable, being true to herself if nothing else, sneaks in a few nuzzles against Gearing before they get there, eliciting smiles and in kind contact.

As they are entering the Arboretum, Scarlet slinks over from the side and peeks at them around some storage boxes. “What do you want?” Her eyes go back and forth between Gearing and Sable then she looks at Sable and asks, “And, who’re you?”

Gearing waves a hoof towards Sable. “This is Sable. She’s Stable 68’s system’s administration A.I.”

Sable waves at Scarlet and flashes a smile. “I got a new chassis!” She hops over and leans into Gearing as she nuzzles his neck. “So now I can do this!” She giggles lightly and continues as Scarlet just looks at them with confusion of monumental proportions written across her face.

Gearing rolls his eyes, but can’t help himself from leaning into the attention. “We’re checking out the freezer in here to see if it’s still good for storing food.”

Scarlet hops up straight and looks around. “There’s a freezer in here? Where? I haven’t found it?”

Sable continues walking past Gearing and Scarlet as she says, “It’s in the far back section of the Arboretum, near where you threw all the garbage when you first started revitalizing the Arboretum.”

Scarlet’s head whips back and forth between her and Gearing before she points a hoof at Sable and asks, “How the hell-“

“She’s the Stable’s A.I., remember?” Gearing cuts her off. “Cameras everywhere?” He points in a couple directions to get his point across, she follows his lead, then turns to look back at Sable. She tilts her head watching the mechanical mare walk away as she tries to figure everything out.

Scarlet shakes her head and starts following them as she says, “I gotta see this.”

Sable turns around and looks at Scarlet bringing up the rear, then shakes her head. “Subject Scarlet, I have to forbid your entry to the freezer at this time.”

Scarlet pauses walking, and exchanges glances with Gearing as he continues up. He stops in front of Sable and sits down. “Okay. That’s it. That’s the second time you’ve thrown a wrench in someone wanting to look into the cold storage… What’s going on, Sable?”

Sable turns her attention to him and stares in his eyes. Not blinking. Not giving a moment of reaction away. He returns her stare’s intensity and neither of the two say anything for a while.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He slaps a hoof over his eyes then says softly, “And I was just teasing Scarlet about not realizing the cameras.” He pulls down his hoof, letting it slide down the length of his muzzle before he turns his head to look at Scarlet over his shoulder. “Scarlet… There’s probably a biohazard in there. We’ve already come across it before. Just wait for us to get a peek, then we can figure out what to do once we know what we’re dealing with.”

Scarlet tilts her head, and then grins ever wider as the hair of her mane and tail start waving slightly by increasing air currents. She grins at Gearing and steps on a moist part of the ground, causing it to sizzle. “Germs can’t touch me if I don’t want them to.”

Gearing looks over at Sable and she replies flatly, “The temperature increase required for guaranteed air sterilization would need to be higher.”

Gearing turns back to look at Scarlet and motions towards Sable with his head. “Go as hot as you can, without burning or melting the place. We can both handle higher temperatures. So that’s fine.”

“Kindly refrain from flash burns, however,” Sable chimes in. “My beloved Gearing’s flank is sensitive to scorching.”

Gearing looks at her absolutely appalled with his ears back and his jaw practically on the floor. Scarlet can’t help but giggle as her ears turn towards his whistling ears. They walk up to a section behind a wall that’s separate from the actual back wall, and Gearing realizes how Scarlet could have missed the freezer so easily. The wall in the back that jutted out had equipment and shelves on either side, and was used to hide the tools away from view from the majority of the Arboretum. A rather clever method of keeping the area functional but aesthetically pleasing. What’s more, the freezer door itself was nearly flush with the far wall, and the actual handle section had been covered over with a pair of metal cabinets.

Sable leans against the cabinets with her shoulder and easily pushes them away, revealing the freezer access door behind. She turns towards Gearing and Scarlet before she asks, “Would you prefer to wait here, while I confirm its contents?”

Scarlet waves a hoof dismissing the whole idea. “I can handle myself. I’m not afraid of a few germs.”

Gearing grins and shakes his head. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Sable smiles at him, scrunching her head against her shoulders happily before she turns and starts opening the door.

As excited as ever for something new to see, and a break in the tedium, Scarlet charges passed at full speed. Followed quickly by Gearing. Sable brings up the rear and switches on the interior lights, at least the ones still functioning. But the few working lights around the room’s perimeter and across the ceiling are enough.

Enough to drive most ponies out of their mind, and, at the very least, send Scarlet bolting back out of the freezer in search of a bucket. After a few moments of running around with her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk’s at a buffet, she gives up and shoves her head in a partially decayed wicker bushel basket. Her efforts prove mostly in vane as the contents of her stomach splatter the inside, and start oozing out of the gaps, crevices, and decay created openings along the entire surface.

Miraculously, the algae chips she’d eaten manage to taste even worse the second time. Which, on top of what is already causing her distress, causes a fit of rapid fire expulsion until she’s completely empty and starts dry heaving into the basket.

Behind her, while Scarlet is still apparently purging her life away, Sable unceremoniously slams the door to the freezer shut with her restraining cables. Locking her and Gearing inside it alone. The poor basket does all it can, but can’t take the combined onslaught of Scarlet’s projectile vomiting into it, and the intense aura of heat that slowly scorches away it’s outside. Quickly she’s left holding a metal ring in the air as she whimpers and dribbles snot and drool from her muzzle and nose.

She aches. She moans. And no one seems to be there to help her as she turns into a pitiful mess partially sitting in her own vomit. But, a moment later, a noise behind her draws her attention.

FaWOOOSH… FWOOOSH… FWOOOOOOOOOSH.

She looks over weakly and sees Cure flamethrower sanitizing the outside of the freezer. She tilts her head for a moment, a long line of drool escaping her mouth and connecting to the bubbling puddle on the floor momentarily before it falls out completely.

Cure comes over and gently picks Scarlet up, who’s too weak at the moment to put up much of a struggle, and sets her to the side. Cure then uses the flamethrower on the vomit, concentrating it until the entire area has turned to scorched ash. Meanwhile she uses a spare pair of arms and pulls Scarlet’s mane back out of her face, and out of the vomit stuck to the side of Scarlet’s muzzle. Cure begins dutifully cleaning her and tending to her as Scarlet just stares in bewilderment. She turns her head slowly, and looks behind herself at the freezer doors, wobbling as she tries to clear the hyperventilation induced fog from her mind.

Sable’s voice comes from an intercom nearby, “It’s okay, Scarlet. Don’t worry about us. We’re fine. We’re safe. Cure will help us, once we are sure you are okay.”

Scarlet wobbles some more and looks around a bit. There, above the freezer in the corner, is a camera looking directly at her. She smiles weakly, as Cure combs out a piece of something that looks like a bit of carrot but can’t possibly be a carrot because she hasn’t had a carrot in a long time. She waves a hoof weakly, and can’t help but feeling a bit of comfort as Sable confirms, “Yes, we’re with you. You’re going to be fine.”

* * *

Inside the freezer, Gearing had a momentary thought of cracking a joke about Sable doing anything to get him alone. But, given the circumstances, even he didn’t feel comfortable doing that. Not even as a way of trying to defuse tension. Instead the first thing that does come out of his mouth is far softer, to the point, but not accusational, than what otherwise might be appropriate. “You already knew, didn’t you? That’s why you tried to keep Swift and Scarlet out of here?”

“I did not know. Not for certain. There are no cameras inside of the freezer. I had a theory, but could neither confirm nor deny until I had access to the cold storage unit,” Sable says flatly.

Gearing nods as he soaks in the environment. Literally.

The inside of the trot in cold storage unit is an homage to some very productive ponies. All of its contents are neatly arranged in rows upon rows and separated out into easily recognizable sections. The area closest to the door is a workspace dedicated to the execution of this unit’s obvious function with tools laid out in organized patterns all around it and quickly at hoof.

Gearing takes in the sight, and has a hard time processing it. The cold efficiency of it is admirable, even if the individual that worked here was a psychotic workaholic of the highest caliber. The walls, shelves, cabinets, floor, even the ceiling pay witness to their work. Testifying to how studious the individual was.

Also how completely insane they were.

Every available surface is covered in some macabre decoration or another. Ponies, some whole, most not, have been expertly placed around the room. In the far back right corner, a collection of ponies have been hung by their back hooves from the ceiling. The hooks suspending them from their hind legs keeping them in nice neat rows to look like a platoon standing in formation upside down on the ceiling and waiting for their orders. Or they would, if it wasn’t for how the ones that still had their heads attached have had their throats slit to the point that the heads are barely hanging on. Under them is a tarry mess of the life fluids of countless ponies left to dump and pour out onto the floor.

Indeed, the entire floor is covered in some thickness of the partially dried congealed blood, causing Gearing and Sable to be slowly basting their hooves in nearly a full centimeter of the mixture.

The cause of death of the ponies ranges from being rather noticeable to only being able to be guessed at. Familiar holes from bullets mark a few of their surfaces. Others it was a sharp object of some kind as the body had been stabbed or cut repeatedly. All of them have a variety of pockmarks that look like pony bites. Some of them even appeared to have started healing a few of their wounds before finally giving up the ghost. One of who had a compound fracture on a foreleg that makes it hang even more grotesquely.

In the center of the room are various other stallions suspended in the same matter in varying stages of dismemberment. The ones who did this seemed to have a system. Rather efficient at that, and they were doing different cuts of pony flesh in rapid succession.

On a set of shelves, with no label needed, rows of pony heads stare into the center of the room. Some of which have bullet damage, others have been bludgeoned to the point of caving in. A few of the faces, especially of the more intact ones, seemed to have locked the last moments of the pony’s life onto it. Chiseled into eternal flesh with pure torment and terror.

Other shelves it takes a bit more investigation to figure out their contents. Pieces and organs sit in like minded containers. Some in plastic bags to lock in the freshness, such as the metal tub full of livers. Tongues, hearts, lungs. All of the organs are accounted for. Yes, there’s even a group of large glass jars labeled ‘Cock Stock’ where the stallions’ dismembered members are crammed together in the worst visual of an orgy ever.

The intestines are the easiest to locate. The entire ceiling is covered in them. They hang down like streamers in neat rows, winding back and forth as necessary. It’s mostly bits of wire tying them up there. They’ve been cleaned out, sectioned into roughly equal long pieces, and left hanging. Whether to dry or just be easily at hoof for use is unknown. Although the small table on the side of the room with the meat grinder gives a partial clue as he can tell the exit valve of the grinder has an intestine over the end like a warped sock stretched over too much leg.

Next to that sits a pair of large metal drums full of bones with bits of meat still on them. One labeled ‘Stock’ and the other labeled ‘Bone Meal’.

“And just what were you basing this ‘theory’ on?” Gearing asks as he continues to take in the view.

“During the civil unrest. Many ponies lives were prematurely terminated. Corpses are unsanitary and can lead to many diseases. The other ponies would tend to dispose of them. Sometimes in unorthodox ways. The preferred method of removal would be cremation. But those facilities had been working as fast as they could. Others were being tossed in the recycling facility. Some ponies took it upon themselves to clear the bodies from the common areas.” She looks around the room slowly as she adds, “Many ponies bodies had been brought here and, at the time, a plausible explanation was to be used as an expanded mortuary storage.” She shakes her head lightly. “I could not know for certain.” She turns her head towards Gearing and frowns. “Though I suspected. Yet, there was nothing I could do either way as the ponies went about terminating one another until none were left.”

“Well,” Gearing comments glumly. “I think we’ve found where a good portion of missing bodies had went.”

Sable nods and replies flatly as she looks over to the pair of metal drums, “Cannibalized to the last bone.” She turns and walks slowly over towards Gearing. “My beloved, I’m sorry for dragging you into this. We cannot risk the contamination getting out and infecting the rest of the stable… again.”

He waves a hoof then begins to say something as he’s sitting down, half way down he freezes, then looks under him, and thinks better of it as he quickly rises and manages to keep his flank out of the crimson substance under him. He looks at Sable and says softly, “I understand. Really. I do.” He trots close enough to begin nuzzling her neck and cheek. “We’re okay. This can’t harm either of us.” After she’s let out a long sigh of relief, and reciprocates the affection, Gearing looks back at the trot in cooler’s door and asks, “But how do we get out of here now?”

Sable frowns. “I’m having Cure make preparations at the moment. The ponies in this freezer had been infected before death. It’s possible that the cannibalistic disease dubbed ‘Raider Disease’ and ‘Blood Hunger Plague’ is sitting dormant.” She shakes her head hard then stomps a hoof into the floor with a sickening sucking down before a flopping plop as it makes impact. “The entire facility needs to be sanitized. Cremation is the only guaranteed solution.”

Gearing frowns. “But how do we go about getting her in here without risking letting it out?”

“I’m already working on a solution for that as well, my beloved,” Sable replies as she looks down at the taffy like substance on their hooves.

Gearing has a slight smile creep across his face, then he turns around and faces the door as he says, “That’s my filly.” He looks back at her over his shoulder as he slowly lifts a wing. “You going to leave me here all alone, or you going to join me?”

Sable grins widely then scampers over slowly, more out of trying not to splash the unsanitary contents all over her beloved than anything else. She dips down under his wing, leans in sideways, and presses into his side, letting her head curve and come to rest across his chest as he drops and wraps her up with his wing.

She nuzzles his chest and lets out a very happy sigh as she asks, “You are not mad at me?”

He shakes his head and gives her an encouraging squeeze with his wing. “No. You did your best. You did what you thought was right. I’m not going to hold that against you...” He grins widely as he turns his head to look down at her. “But I will hold you against me… You’ve seen enough of this already to last a lifetime. We’ll just stand here and wait.” Gearing looks around and lets out a rough chuckle. “Heh… they must have had a bad case of OCD, everything’s organ-ized.” He glances at her and gives a crooked grin as he finishes.

Sable takes in a deep breath and lets it out as she relaxes into contentment. A moment later she opens an eye and looks up at him. “It’s a shame the conditions in this freezer. This level of isolation would be perfect for us to further our relationship…”

He tilts his head and eyeballs her for a moment, and can’t help but notice the smile on her face. He lets out a sigh before he snickers and shakes his head. “Sable, we’re not having sex in the middle of a graveyard.”

“No?” she asks flatly.

“No,” he replies with a smirk.

“Okay, just thought I’d throw it out there as a way to pass the time,” Sable says with a grin.

Gearing looks her over, and can’t help a wide smile forming over his face. They’ve grown close, very close, and he’s gotten to know her mannerisms rather quickly. And, currently, he can’t help but notice that, despite the blatant offer and encouragement, she’s not wiggling her flank. Given her proclivities and sense of decorum, random offers, requests, or even initiations of sex are not anything strange. Regardless of location or present company. She’s very open with her desires.

But, that’s not what this is. She’s not simply being her typical flank chasing self. She’s wanting to distract him. To keep him busy. To give something else to do besides focus on the fact that he’s trapped in an enclosed space with the corpses of countless ponies. Getting to know somepony goes both ways, especially when that somepony is as observant as this one. She’s very well aware of how disturbed he really is by this scene. And how he’s simply just getting through a situation that he has little to no control over.

Bravado be damned, this mare’s got him pegged and he’s not fooling anypony in this room.

Gearing pulls her in tightly as he groans in approval. He lowers his neck down and nuzzles her cheek with his as he lets out in a deep gust of air, “Gods I love this mare…”

And that’s when her flank started wiggling.

Footnote: Internal Monitoring component beginning diagnostic. . .

Internal component 01 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter sets a few more questions in motion and puzzles to be solved, while answering a couple in the process. Work on the time line continues, and substantial progress has been made. Even more individuals have shown support and offered to lend time and talents for helping to get all of that sorted, to the benefit of all, and for that I'm truly grateful.

For those wondering about a potential plot hole with a certain piece of equipment, especially if you've read project horizon's and know all about stable 99, don't worry, it hasn't been overlooked. Though I'm not sure yet if it'll be explicitly answered in the story or just be some extra info released with an "ask x" series.

As always, questions, comments, and suggestions welcome and encouraged.

-Quillsy

16 Over Sharing

After preparations at the doorway of the cold storage are complete, Gearing and Sable stand in single file waiting for their release. The door swings open, and instantly flames start kissing the air around Gearing. He grunts, and steps through it, gingerly, and into a large tray of liquid that quickly gets pushed into position by Scarlet. As Scarlet hops to the side and starts pushing the next tray into position, with the liquid closest to her starting to steam and boil the moment her hooves come in contact with the sides, Gearing continues down the laid out path of liquid filled trays. After Gearing has gotten a few trays worth away, Sable follows suit, ignoring the flames shot out by Cure as she carefully steps into the provided trays, then trotting to the nearest tray to Gearing and out of the way of the swing of the door.

Cure rhythmically continues pouring fire in the direction of the door way as she starts scooting the other containers out of the way. While the last tray is gingerly being scooted to the side, Scarlet hops over it and starts heading into the cooler with a scowl of pure malice on her muzzle.

Gearing looks back and forth, then yells out at her, but dares not leave the cleaning bath, “Scarlet! What are you doing? Shouldn’t Cure be the one to do that?”

Scarlet looks at him over her shoulder and shakes her head ever so slightly as she says with a steamy huff, “No. I want to do this. I need to do this.” She looks in the freezer and starts stomping a flaming hoof down as she screams, “I’m not this weak!” She rears up and screams at the ceiling as she waves her forehooves around, “I’m burning it all!” Then she hops through the door and lands on the worktable with a sizzling crackle.

Cure quickly shuts the door, and then bathes everything in her immediate vicinity with fire, including herself, before turning to face Gearing and Sable.

Gearing groans and lowers his head, clinching his eyes tight as he asks, “I guess we’re next… huh?”

The blast of heat coming from his companion confirms his suspicions, and he tries to prepare himself as Cure meticulously cleans Sable’s chassis with both tool and fire. He stands there, tensed, holding as still as possible as he prepares for the searing pain that is only moments away.

Instead his system is given a shock of a different kind as a deluge of cold liquids are poured all over him. He shivers and shakes and twitches as he wasn’t expecting that, then looks around and watches as Cure uses her tools and a brush to scrub his hooves ever so carefully. He lets her lead him, putting his cleaned hoof into an entirely new tub of chemicals nearby, before moving to his next one. As he is staring at her in a bit of confusion, another sensation draws his attention to his back where Sable is dutifully scrubbing him down with a bristly brush. Above him is a makeshift shower nozzle that’s continuously pumping a stream of the cleaning solution down onto him from a container nearby with Sable’s restraining cables being used to direct the flow.

After Cure has managed to get all four of his hooves cleaned and him properly transferred to the new tub, she focuses on his tail until she’s sure the dark molasses like substances are all gone from the tips of his hairs. She then begins sanitizing the other tubs that had been used, and storing the liquid in a biohazard crate for added measures and future incineration. Her part apparently done, she completely ignores the two as she carries on her own tasks.

The final tub Gearing finds himself in is larger than the others, and Sable easily has space to join him. Even more so as she practically hangs over him and continues scrubbing his entire body.

ENTIRE. BODY.

Gearing looks back at her with a smirk and asks, “So do you really think it’s that dirty, or are you just trying to start something.”

She grins at him as her flank wiggles lightly. “I must be sure my darling Gearing is cleaned properly.”

Gearing narrows his eyes at her and purses his lips to the side. “You barely touched my neck.”

Sable tilts her head and comments, “Proper risk assessment means focusing on the more important areas, with critical components given highest priority.”

He can’t help but stretch a hindleg sideways as he ends up lowering into her skilled hoofwork a bit. “And- and that’s deemed critical, but my head isn’t?”

“It’s a critical component to our love making. Risk of damage or loss is not acceptable.”

He snorts then starts slapping a forehoof in the chemical bath a bit, causing the water to splash. After a few more moments he’s apparently taken all he can. “Alright. Alright already!” he barks out. She pauses and looks at him but can’t help but smile as she hears his ears whistling lightly. He closes his eyes and asks, “Am I sterilized enough to make it to the R&D decontamination chamber?”

Sable tilts her head, then frowns a moment. “Affirmative… and that would be able to finish the process quickly as well.”

Gearing grins and takes the sponge away from her. “Great! Let’s go so we can get to work.”

He trots off and Sable follows behind dutifully. He gets to the chamber to find the nearest door already open and welcoming to him. He hops in, and a moment later Sable enters and comments, “It would be good to have the carbonization residue washed off.”

The door shuts and the cleaning process begins washing them off with the various residues coming off and running down the drain. When the cycle ends, Sable steps over towards the door and raises a hoof to step through the doorway.

The door shuts again almost the same moment it had opened.

She stares at it a moment then turns her head sideways to look at Gearing with his hoof on the door control. He leans over and runs the sponge in his mouth down her shoulder to her flank, maintaining eye contact the whole way. Then he takes it out with a wing and grins at her as her mouth hangs agape. “What? I thought you wanted to make sure we were both nice and clean?”

She slowly turns towards him, looking him in the eyes, and then getting muzzle to muzzle as she says flatly, “How about we get dirty instead?”

Gearing kisses her and forces her backwards against the wall, as he dips down. The next moment he’s swept her hindlegs out from under her with his forehooves as he continues kissing her and hoists her up with his forelegs.

Sable approves of this very aggressive message as sporadic spurts of water and soap come from the over head dispensers as a modified cycle starts again.

***

After Scarlet had finished spot cremation of all of the materials in the freezer, she exits the trot in fridge and tags in Cure, who heads inside to clean up the remaining leftovers. Scarlet doesn’t feel like working on the plants and the garden yet. The smell from burnt ponies and chemicals is still strong in the atrium. She heads down to the R&D department in order to apologize. If she hadn’t freaked out by the sight, and simply did then what she had just finished doing, poor Gearing and Sable wouldn’t have been sealed up and locked in there just to keep everypony safe. She feels horrible making them go through that, and wants to at least apologize.

She trots down the hall with her head low as she tries to figure out how she can make it up to them. Saying ‘sorry’ is a good start, but beyond that? She can’t even offer them first dibs on the next batch of produce. They don’t eat. What form of emotional bribery would work on a pair of robots?

She almost bangs her head on the entry door to the decontamination chamber, and lifts her head as she hears a bit of a scraping sound and a deep thump. Her eyes shoot wide and she nickers at what’s before her through the glass of the door.

There is Sable, back to the wall, and held fully aloft bouncing slightly against the side wall of the decontamination chamber with a look of uninhibited glee on her face as she has her head back and staring at the ceiling while it rains down soap on the pair. Yes. The pair. There, standing on his hind hooves and completely supporting Sable with his own hips and forelegs is Gearing. Rutting away as Sable seems to be shaken like a proper martini.

And loving every minute of it.

“Well, they seem to have gotten over it pretty damn quick,” Scarlet mutters.

A moment later she whinnies in abject terror as Sable glances over at her and makes hard eye contact mid act, and gives her a wink with a smile. Scarlet ducks down quickly, trying to avoid the glass, but then her eyes track sideways and up to the corner.

Where a camera is staring directly at her.

She springs up, motoring her legs to run in place before she even makes contact with the floor plating. Her wings give her a bit of extra forward momentum as she runs as fast as she can away, her tail catching enough wind to turn completely linear behind her as she runs away.

She wasn’t peeping on them. She wasn’t. She’s not even interested in that. But sweet Celestia how strong is Gearing?! To hold a full protectapony aloft and impact her flanks hard enough that-, okay that’s enough of that thought! Bad Scarlet! She scolds herself.

Though the little pony in her head can’t help but pointing out, Sable seemed to be having fun with that… Good thing he’s got her, anypony else would get broke in half!

The mere physics behind it is breaking her brain. She needs someone else to talk to and there’s only two that she can think of that’d be able to have a serious conversation about it. At least, as serious of a conversation as you can possibly have when the topic at hoof is robotic sex positions.

When she gets to the medical bay she finds that, for once, it’s mostly empty. In an effort to let them earn their keep, the rest of the children are out in the stable helping clean out the quarters that will soon become theirs. Once clean, whatever repairs needed can be done and they would be free to move in. Most of the protectaponies have gone with them to make sure they were safe, a condition of Swift’s, but has left Handy and Gauge free to work on other projects.

Nahlah’s the first to notice Scarlet enter, and gives her a wide toothy smile as she bounces the pair of foals in her paws. This causes Swift and Ivy to turn towards Scarlet and regard her.

Swift sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Scarlet. Thank you. That’s just a horrible thing to find.”

Scarlet waves it off as she looks around, and makes sure no one else is in the medical bay. “I burn things. It’s what I do.”

Ivy’s eyes go wide and she looks at Nahlah before bobbing her head towards Scarlet. “I’ve always thought she was fiery. Red heads, right? But to think she’s that damn cold? Remind me not to piss her off.”

Nahlah smirks and rolls her eyes before looking at Scarlet. “You hiding out here while Cure finishes getting that stuff out of the Arboretum?”

“No!” Scarlet belts out quickly. Defensively. Too quickly. She rubs her hoof against her upper foreleg before she says softly, “Not exactly…”

Swift and Nahlah exchange glances before looking at Scarlet again. Swift walks around and sits down in front of her. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I saw Gearing fucking Sable’s robobrains out in the decontamination chamber down in R&D!” she blurts out as she slaps her hooves to her cheeks in complete disbelief. She hops up on her hind legs and mimics the motion with her forehooves and hips as she says, “He had her up in the air like bam, bam, bam. All up on the wall. And it looked like she was riding a jackhammer on a pogo stick! I mean! The hell?!” She looks back and forth between the three before she throws her hooves in the air. “How does that even work?!”

Ivy puts a hoof to her mouth as she snorts and snickers. Nahlah looks over at Ivy then just shrugs and grins.

Swift looks at Scarlet with her eyes wide and mouth hanging agape, absolutely horrified. “You were peeping on them?!”

Scarlet rolls her eyes, in a movement so exaggerated her head goes with them. “Noooo, not intentionally anyway. But. I mean, what the hell is he?! It can take a couple full grown earth ponies to lift a protectapony that’s broken. Or even one in Steel Ranger armor could with a struggle… But he just had her picked up like you’d flop a sack of flour over your shoulder and… and…” She slaps her hooves to her cheeks as she shakes her head reliving the visage, “And rutting her like a rag doll!”

Swift looks over at Ivy and Nahlah, who are doing their best not to laugh and wake the foals, before looking back at Scarlet. “How could you just spy on them, though? That’s so wrong! Ya perv.”

Scarlet waves her hooves in front of her. “You’re missing the point! How. Is. This. Possible!?” She leans in and raises an eyebrow. “And don’t give me that shit, I know how pervy you and Handy get with your ropes. You’d wanna know too!”

Ivy snickers and holds her muzzle closed for a while before she snorts and looks at Swift, “Looks like someone just got called out.”

Swift blushes hard and looks between them in horror.

“Ivy likes being spanked,” Nahlah offers with a wide grin.

Everyone looks at her, including a suddenly very crimson Ivy. Ivy zips her eyes between the others before she hisses at Nahlah, “What the hell, Nahlah? Throwing me under the wagon like that?”

Nahlah just snickers and shrugs.

Ivy looks at the others and points a hoof at Nahlah. ‘Yeah well she likes getting licked into unconsciousness.”

Nahlah looks at her and bats her eyes. “Pick a spot…”

Swift snickers and lowers herself as she sticks her hooves over her muzzle. She looks at the entirely appalled Ivy and smiles before she says, “Doesn’t quite work when the certain somecreature has no sense of shame.”

Nahlah looks at Swift and raises her face up and to the side indignantly. “I do too have shame.”

“You don’t even have standards…” Swift smirks and says as she waves a hoof, “That ghoul you shacked up with at the tavern kinda proves both.”

Nahlah looks over at Swift and tilts her head. “Hey, he paid well enough. Besides, I’d never been with someone so squishy before. It was kinda fun!” She smiles widely.

Scarlet puts a hoof over her mouth trying not to puke, and glad that she hasn’t eaten since emptying out her stomach in the Arboretum. That was not a mental image she needed right now.

Ivy looks around and gives a crooked smile. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be feeling insulted here.”

Nahlah leans over and nuzzles her cheek. “Awwww… You’ve managed to make me a one mare feline, you should be proud!”

Ivy rolls her eyes, but can’t help sneaking a smile as she looks away from Nahlah.

Scarlet claps her hooves together to get their attention. “Hey! We’re getting off topic.”

Ivy glances over and smirks. “I think we’re still well within the range of your pervy brain.”

Scarlet looks around and flops down hard onto her rear. “Oh come on! I can’t be the only one wondering?”

Nahlah looks at her and follows her down to the ground then grins widely. “Well now! If you wanted that kind of hard pounding you should have asked if you could join!”

Scarlet looks at her in absolute horror, as the other two snicker. She waves her hooves in the air and screams, “I don’t want no fucking stallion!” She clamps her hooves over her muzzle as she hears one of the foals stir and fuss as they started waking up. After a long silence where nopony moves, Scarlet says with a hiss, “It just hurt my brain trying to figure that out.”

You’d been wondering the same thing about them before, though at least your question was just partially answered, Swift’s little pony in her head reminds her.

Swift coughs into her hoof and says with her eyes closed, “Maybe we should just let them have their privacy and leave the worrying about how they do what to each other, to them?”

Scarlet nickers and purses her lips to the side as she grumbles, “You really not curious about it?” Swift opens her mouth to say something, but doesn’t as an overhead speaker kicks on.

“If you really want to know the specifics behind how Gearing’s love making functions, I’m more than happy to tell you,” Sables voice chimes in happily. “How would you like the breakdown? Relative PSI? Hoof pounds of force over distance? Friction coefficients?”

Scarlet starts sputtering and choking on her own spit as she looks at the others, who all look like their on the verge of dying from laughing as silently as possible.

“Although, I do regret to inform you that I have to deny your request to join us, Scarlet,” Sables voice comes across evenly.

Scarlet dives over under one of the medical beds that the children had been using. She yanks down the sheet and covers her head with the blanket and her hooves as she moans and tries not to die of embarrassment.

“Although, you do have a cute flank,” Stable’s voice teases.

Scarlet yanks the rest of herself under the sheet and out of view entirely. The others snicker and laugh at her for a few moments as she rolls around under the medical bed in her own embarrassed misery. Nahlah finishes snickering and looks over at the speaker as she grins and asks, “Hey, Sable… were you serious about telling us about it?”

“What would you like to know, Nahlah?”

* * *

Swift heads into the back of the Arboretum following the marker on her pipbuck. As she comes around the wall blocking her view of the open sided tool shed that’s blocking the trot in cooler she gets the unmistakable tinge of carbonized material tickling her nostrils. She frowns and calls out towards the open door, “Gearing! You in there?”

Sable’s head pops out and she waves a hoof at Swift. “Greetings, Subject Swift. Yes. Gearing is inside the cooling unit administering repairs. Do you need something?”

Swift takes a tentative step forward as she asks, “Is it safe to enter? For me I mean?”

Sable nods and grins. “Perfectly. The contamination has been completely removed.” She waves her hoof beckoning Swift in as she turns around and rejoins Gearing inside.

Swift trots over and looks in, and her eyes take in the sight before her.

Currently, Gearing is working on rewiring the lights in the ceiling. The indiscriminate fire that Scarlet had unleashed had blown out all of the lights and melted most of their contact points. The walls are covered in varying degrees of thermal damage from scorch marks that Sable is working hard to scrub away, to warped paneling that will probably need to be hammered out if not reforged entirely.

Gearing looks down at Swift as he flutters in place with his oversized wings and gives her a light wave of a hoof before jamming his screwdriver into a gap between panels and asking, “What’s up?”

Swift looks around the room and lets out a sigh before she asks, “How long until the freezer’s fixed, you think?”

Gearing hops down and ruffles his wings a bit before settling down. “If you mean fully repaired, that’s going to be a while. Need a few more components. And some of this needs to be remanufactured before it gets installed.” He waves a hoof and grins as she starts to frown. “But, she’s functional. Not like deep, deep freeze level. But she’ll keep food cold and from rotting.” He points a hoof where Sable is trying to buff out a deep scorch mark in the metal sheet. “Most of it is just cosmetic really. Might not be pretty, but works.”

Sable looks over at Gearing and flutters her eyes at him as she asks, “Where as I both work and am pretty?”

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he shifts his gaze between them for a moment before he just shrugs and grins. “Bet your sweet can you are.” Sable giggles and shakes her flank at him a bit before happily returning to scraping off the metal slag and carbonized flakes.

Swift rolls her eyes before muttering, “Should I leave you two alone?”

Gearing trots over and grabs a part from a crate on the floor and returns to the light in the ceiling. “Nah. Work gets done either way. Nothing wrong with a little on the job flirting and multitasking is there?”

Swift nickers then asks, “Think we’d be able to start storing some meat in here?”

Gearing looks over at her and says flatly, “That’s … kinda what they were using it for before.”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes and groans. “I mean like… real food. Not ponies.”

Gearing tosses a few busted pieces of electrical components into a bin below as he’s working. “It’s the same really. I mean. If you think about it.” He looks over at her and sees the look of abject horror on her face. “I mean the temperatures needed to keep it from rotting! A freezer is a freezer, it either makes ice or it doesn’t that’s as far as it cares.”

Swift nods. “Oh. Right. That makes sense.” She looks around as she comments, “I wanted to make sure we had some place to store some meat. I really need to go blow off some steam. This bullshit with the Gunners, and the Institute, and the Institute Gunners…” she nickers. “I really wanna kill something and the bugs were fun but just not as…. Satisfying.”

“Mind some company?” Gearing asks while he’s still got his head partially in the ceiling.

Swift looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. She allows herself a momentary flick of eye focus to Sable to see if she’s staring, but she’s not, before she asks, “Why?”

Gearing ducks down and looks at her, with his hooves still holding the conduit in place. “I’d like to make sure my rifle’s sighted in properly. And I need distance for that… Also if you’re going a distance away I’d like to snag any salvage that might be out there that we need.” He reaches up, bites down on a cluster of wires and pulls them towards himself. He spits the fragment of conduit he had fished out of them with his tongue into the container below as he drops down to the floor again. “So I’d like to tag along and see what there is to get.”

“I’m probably going to be heading quite a distance.” Swift waves a hoof dismissively. “Most of this area has already been hunted out before we even got here. Just give me a list of what you need and I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and sits down. “There’s no point in making a list. I already know everything we need, and I’ll be able to tell if something is useful enough to us or if I can jury rig it to do or be something we need. That’s not the kind of thing I can just write on a list unless you want me to say something like ‘every piece of metal, ceramic, and even tiny fragments of arcano-tech’ cuz that’s about as far as I can tell someone that can’t just do it themselves.”

He stares at her for a while as she mulls the request over. There’s many things that he wouldn’t even put on a list, even if it was that simple. Some things that are important to him. Things he wouldn’t be willing to admit to. He looks over at Sable and sighs as he thinks the only sure fire way of keeping something secret is keeping it to yourself. Admitting vulnerabilities is just asking for it to be exploited.

Swift smiles and waves a hoof after a bit. “Well, I’m sure you won’t slow me down too much. You know how to stay out of sight and not give yourself away.” She leans away from him and says softly, “I still don’t see how someone so shiny and heavy can be that damn sneaky.”

“Finite control,” Sable offers as she puts her weight into a bristle brush scraper and continues to knock off the composites from the wall.

Swift looks over at her and tilts her head. “Huh?” Gearing looks as well, unsure of where his metallic mare is going with this.

“Organics primarily move around by letting gravity yank them back to the ground. And movement with muscles is simply a factor of which muscle is pulling in which direction. While it’s counterpart goes lax. However, Gearing’s clockwork form provides resistance in every conceivable direction. The gears don’t just slack and spin freely letting gravity do the work. All of the gears turn, intentionally, as he moves. So there’s no unnecessary movement, and he can stop and go at will, even mid-movement.” She looks over at Swift and adds, “At least as much as inertia allows.” She looks back and forth between the two then says softly, “At least… that’s my hypothesis…”

Swift points a hoof at Sable and looks at Gearing. He nickers and shakes his head. “Hey, don’t look at me about that. I have a hard enough time just trying to explain what the hell I am to ponies. Though…” He looks over at Sable and grins. “As far as ideas about it, that’s probably the one I’ve heard that makes the most sense really.”

Sable grins widely as she scrunches her shoulders up to her head and continues working.

Of course Gearing, like any good card player, knows it’s best not to lay everything out until the time’s right. He’ll just let them have fun trying to figure it out in the meantime. He’s got a few tricks that neither of them have realized yet, but that’ll come in time.

Especially if a couple of them ever start working again.

Swift looks at him for a few moments as she gives the situation a ponder. “Well,” she starts. “If we go out far enough there’s a town I know we can trade at.” She bobs her head around. “If we find enough things to trade we can just drop it off there and sell it for caps or trade for something else we need.”

Gearing’s ears perk up. “A town? Like… an actual town?” He looks back and forth between Sable and Swift. “One survived?”

Sable looks over at Swift as she is similarly curious. Swift waves a hoof then says, “No. I mean. Sort of? It’s been rebuilt. Most of the actual towns had been hit. Even if they’re still standing the areas still too dangerous to get into because of radiation or cloud.”

Gearing shakes his head as he looks around. This is a new bit of information for him. He’s glad that at least somebody survived the death of the world. He’s a bit conflicted though. There are many things that can go wrong when you meet up with new people, not to mention all of his personal problems. He hopes they don’t take one look at him and shoot at him. Ponies are far less likely to shoot another pony, than they are at an automaton. At worst, from their perspective, they can just take the precaution and say ‘oops’ since it can be repaired.

He knows; he’s already had that happen. And that was before everything went to hell.

Gearing shakes his head and nods towards the door. “I’ll get everything I need and I’ll meet you at the stable door. When do you think you want to go?”

Swift shrugs and puts her hooves in the air. “Well, I was wanting to go as soon as this is done. If it’s ready, we can go now. The sooner we get what we need the sooner we can get back and you can continue repairs on the stable.”

Gearing nods and turns to look at Sable, who’s completely stopped work and staring at him. He rubs a hoof over his upper forearm as he asks, “Would you mind staying behind and finishing up here? It’d really help us out. It’s mostly cosmetic but I’m sure you can handle it.”

Sable gives him a wide smile then walks up and throws her forelegs around his neck. “If that is what my darling Gearing wants. I am more than happy to help.” She pulls him into a hug then gives him a kiss. “Please stay safe out there. There are many bad ponies in the wasteland and they can be rather violent.”

Gearing hugs her back with a hoof before turning to leave. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. Besides…” He turns back to look at her over his shoulder and gives her a grin. “I know that you’ll be waiting for me and I’ll want to hurry back to you.” He starts walking away and, as he notices her eyes drift down, he starts exaggerating shaking his flank with each step.

She hops forward towards the door and shakes a hoof at him. “That was unnecessarily mean of you, Gearing! Shaking your glorious flank at me and just… leaving like that! It’s not fair.”

Gearing turns around and grins at her, then throws his wings in the air, directing the light to sparkle around him as he flashes her a smile. “Drink in the view, hon. But don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

She shakes her flank a bit and groans, “You are sooo mean sometimes, Gearing!”

Swift rolls her eyes and trots out the door past Sable as she moans, “Just get your shit together and meet me at the door. If you two start fucking again, I’m not waiting on you.”

Sable looks at Swift with her mouth open. “And you are mean as well, Subject Swift!”

Swift chuckles and hurries up at a fast canter before she loses it and ends up rolling on the ground laughing at the pair as they banter.

Gearing eventually gets away from Sable, but not before she zips out and demands another kiss, or two, and gets a hefty-hoofed smack on his flank for good measure. Hard enough that it actually hurt. She grins at him as he’s walking away. “The sting will remind you what’s waiting!”

Gearing heads straight to the R&D department and rummages through his personal armory, and takes a few items from the armory that he’d set up for the rest of the stable. Unlike previously, and against what might have been otherwise acknowledged as best practice, he goes ahead and takes his own advice to Sable and puts on his entire suit of combat armor. Yes, it’s bulky. Yes, it looks absolutely ridiculous on a mechanical creature such as himself, and, yes, unfortunately, it might very well increase the likelihood of him getting shot. But, it’s a precaution he’s loath to leave behind. At least until he gets more adjusted to the surrounding area. But the combat armor should increase his own resistance enough to not entirely have to worry about getting put down with a single well placed round.

Even as astronomically hard as that would be to accomplish, he knows it’s actually possible. And underestimating your opponents would typically lead to death. Something he also highly understands as he’s used that to his own advantage repeatedly in a past life.

He straps on his 10mm pistol and his saddle bags. And, finally, last but not least, he takes the long rifle off of its rack and slings it over his back. The weapon is far longer than anything else he’s used recently, and he’s sure that, given his break down and understanding of it, this rifle has a high potential to help keep him safe.

And, in doing so, present a high likelihood of proving exceptionally dangerous to anypony stupid enough to take shots at him.

By the time he gets to the stable entrance, Swift is already there waiting on him. Sitting leaned back on some railing, Swift fiddles with her powerhoof as she waits as patiently as she can. She looks up as she notices movement out of the corner of her eyes. She shakes her head and blinks a few times before she stands up fully. “Huh. I figured you two would be busy polishing off the walls with your flanks.”

Gearing stops mid stride, and stares at her with his mouth agape and eyes wide.

Sable’s voice comes over a nearby speaker excitedly, “That is an excellent idea, Subject Swift! We should perform a series of experiments to test the effectiveness!”

Swift watches as Gearing sputters and starts whipping his head around as he tries to say something, anything, but fails. Swift reaches up her hoof towards a speaker nearby as she grins, then thrusts it towards the speaker. Over the speaker a sound plays back as if a hoof clopping against another, in a digital hoof bump, and Swift just grins even wider as Gearing looks at them in confusion.

He hurries towards the door while shaking his head. “Alright, come on. Let’s go. Unless you two want to sit here embarrassing me all day.”

“You sure you don’t want to wait until your ears quit whistling?” Swift asks. “You might give away our position with all that racket.”

“I think it’s cute the way his ears whistle when he’s embarrassed,” Sable says with a giggle.

Gearing sits down and yells out with his eyes closed and shaking his head around on the end of his neck in disbelief. “What ever happened to hurrying up and leaving so we can hurry up and get back?!”

Sable giggles. “You don’t have to leave, you know?”

Swift rolls her eyes and begins working the controls on the stable entrance. “Alright, alright. Let’s go. Plenty of time to pick on Gearing later.”

Gearing sits there in a huff staring at the door with his mouth pursed to the side mumbling and muttering to himself.

The door opens and Swift walks up and watches the sequence play out. She glances over at Gearing, but can’t help but smirk at his sour disposition. The door finishes opening and Swift trots through the opening and out into the entrance area.

As Gearing gets up to leave the speaker next to him announces, “Gearing?”

He pauses his trot and looks over at it with a slight frown.

“I love you, Gearing. Stay safe,” Sable’s voice comes across softly.

He looks around for a camera and spots one above the Stable 68 front door. From it’s atypical movement he can tell she’s paying particular attention to this camera. He looks up at it and grins, then blows a kiss towards it before he says, “I love you too, Sable,” then heads out of the stable door and joins Swift at the stairs up.

Footnote: Internal Monitoring component beginning diagnostic. . .

Internal component 01 not responding. . .

Internal component 02 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter is more about setting things up between characters for future developments and reveals instead of mysteries to solve, but things are moving right along.

Timeline progresses and soon I hope to crest the wave and it all be smooth sailing from there. Until then? Increasing stress, but the sorta good kind that's motivating instead of soul crushing. And a lot of that has to do with making progress and having extra aid in getting it done. You all are amazing!

-Quillsy

18 Fair Nicks

After spending the remaining hours of the night thoroughly convincing Sable of his dedication to her, Gearing was able to meet up once again with Swift at the Stable 68 entrance. Once he’d managed to free himself from Sable’s loving cabley embrace that is.

This time, Gearing is the one left standing and waiting for Swift. When she approaches the door she stares at him with her lips pursed to the side for a moment before she asks, “So, you finally decided to actually go? Why didn’t you let me know when you got back?”

Gearing gives a sheepish smile and shrugs. “When I got back I realized it was too late for us to go round trip. You’re organic, you need sleep. Didn’t want us to run into trouble on the road and you be too busy fighting exhaustion to fight, or at least run.”

She frowns hard at him and grumbles, “I’m not that weak.” She waves a hoof as she dismisses it. “I could have made it there and back no problem. Missing a little sleep never hurt nopony…”

Gearing motions towards the door as he’s putting in the commands to open the stable. “Ready to go to Megamac?”

Swift nods and starts heading through the door as it’s still opening. “Sure, let’s go, I hope we can find some things the kids will like while we’re there.”

Gearing heads out behind her at a short distance then starts turning towards the outside controls to shut the door once passed the threshold.

“I’m coming too!” a colt’s voice echoes off the cavern walls.

Swift and Gearing turn to see a small red unicorn colt jump from a set of cabinets to the gangplank that leads out and trots out after them.

Swift walks towards him and waves her hooves. “No! No, No, No! Go back inside with your friends and help clean up. We’re not going out to play.”

Gearing’s eyes explore this colt, traveling from his hooves to his tail then back to the horn adorning his head. He walks up past Swift and taps her on the shoulder with his hoof before he gets in between the two and stares at the young colt. Swift steps off to the side and starts slowly walking around to their side so she can see Gearing’s eye movements.

She takes a few steps back, getting closer to the stable door after regarding Gearing for a moment. She’s seen Gearing around foals. Not just when he brought them into the stable, but when he regularly interacts with them in the hallways and in the medical bay. She’s also seen him around things he considers threats. Without him even saying anything she understands something very clearly: Gearing is looking at this child more like a threat than as a foal.

Gearing, acknowledges Swift’s action with a glance and a head nod before completely turning his attention to the colt. He sits down and offers his hoof towards the little red unicorn. “My name’s Gearing. We haven’t met before. What’re you up to?”

Swift’s eyes go wide in quick understanding. His phrasing was more for her benefit. Gearing had rescued the herd with Apple Armor. He’d taken off each and every one of their bomb collars. It’s hard to obtain a higher level of intimacy than being muzzle to muzzle with someone when both of your lives are on the line. Since then, he’s worked with and played with them repeatedly. Though they’ve still been more leery of him, and the other adults in general, than anything, and really the only one to regularly play with him was the little violet unicorn filly. There’s no way he wouldn’t have met this colt before. Not with all of that general exposure and being that close.

Unless the foal wasn’t part of that group at all.

The foal, which Swift estimates to look about six or seven years old, raises his hoof and taps it against Gearing’s in the cutest tiny brohoof she’s ever seen. He smiles up at Gearing and says cheerfully, “I’m going out.”

“Really?” Gearing asks as he muses over the situation. He looks over at Swift, then walks around to the other side of the colt, putting the colt between him and Swift and drawing his attention to focus on himself. “Why would you want to do that?” Gearing asks as he starts tapping out rapid commands into his PipBuck. He keeps glancing up at the horn on the child’s head while getting a queasy feeling. He recognizes the horn. Sort of. But, as a bit of a way of corroborating things one way or the other, he opens a channel on his PipBuck. “Cure… Please report. Where is the current location of the unicorn foal you were tasked with taking care of by Handy?”

Swift’s eyebrow raises quick enough that it threatens to leap off her forehead as she looks at Gearing dumbfounded.

Gearing raises his forehoof, pausing it just long enough to catch eye contact with Swift, before carrying on with casually running it through his metallic mane as he awaits the reply.

His PipBuck, now set to maximum speaker volume, squawks, “I apologize, Gearing. The foal has disappeared from my sensors. I have been unable to locate it.”

Swift’s focus jumps to Gearing’s PipBuck as her eyes widen.

Gearing lets out a low grunt of acknowledgment, “Mmmhmm… and… using average growth charts for a unicorn foal from the pediatric archive… how old would the foal have appeared the last time you saw it? Judging by size?”

“Before disappearing from my sensors, the colt in question had grown quickly and had a visual reading that falls into the range of a unicorn colt of roughly six years of age.”

“Mmmhmm,” Gearing says again as Swift’s jaw hits the floor. Gearing flops down in front of the colt, laying out and coming eye level with him. “So, what’s your name?”

The colt looks him in the eyes and says flatly, “Pharynx.”

Swift walks around Gearing and looks at the colt. “And who named you that?”

The colt tilts his head as he looks at her. “My parents... like anybody... Right? I guess?” The question actually seems to confuse him.

Swift looks around as she nervously fidgets with her powerhoof. “And… where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” The colt shrugs. More in a sense of continued confusion and not so much being distressed by the fact.

Gearing, having not taken his eyes off of him, asks, “You guess?”

The colt looks back at Gearing and shrugs again as he sits down. “I don’t know how I know. I just know.”

Gearing examines this young colt in front of him and runs through everything he knows about synths, which, admittedly, isn’t much. As far as he knows, they are made in a lab somewhere. That Scarlet impostor was teleported inside from outside, not magically created on site. So, this one isn’t a synth, he hopes, but that just begs more questions.

Gearing looks at Pharynx and asks with a smile, “Why do you want to go with us?”

The young colt shrugs lightly. “I don’t know, I just know I need to.”

Swift walks up near him and starts snuffing at him and staring at him as she gets closer. “It’s dangerous out there,” she says softly.

“Oh, I can take care of myself, don’t worry,” Pharynx replies.

Gearing looks at Swift as she has Pharynx’s attention, and quickly taps out a message as he says, “Well, I think we have everything we need to go. I’d rather pack light when I intend on carrying a lot back.”

Swift’s PipBuck chimes and she looks at the message Gearing just sent to her.

[Whether we can trust him or not is besides the point, this is one way to get him OUT of the stable, and we’ll figure out if we can trust him later.]

She sits down as she gives a quick glance towards Gearing before continuing to stare at Pharynx and half grunting, “Uh huh.” Whether this was in response to Pharynx or Gearing, Gearing can’t tell entirely.

“Yup!” Pharynx says with a nod. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” He chants as he hops around in foalish fashion before bounding off towards the metal stairs leading upwards.

Gearing and Swift smirk as they exchange glances then turn back to watch Pharynx as he’s approaching the steps. Pharynx misjudges the ground in front of the steps and his forehooves slip out forward and away from him as he’s coming down to pounce up the steps. He slams head first into the stairs, with his head slipping between two of the metal steps, but the rest of his body continuing with the momentum up the stairs.

A moment later his neck unnaturally makes a u-bend as his head’s wedged between the steps and the rest of himself flops against the metal steps. Causing a loud cracking, grinding sound to echo out before his form goes still against the cold metal steps.

Gearing jumps from a lying position fully into the air in panic before scurrying over, withdrawing Pharynx from the framework, and checking the foal’s pulse. “He- he’s dead… He broke his fucking neck!”

Swift sits there wide-eyed, unmoving, as she tries to process what’s just happened.

Gearing starts manipulating the foal’s head, twisting it back into the correct direction, making grinding sounds that resonate in Gearing’s own teeth and sends a shiver down to his tail tip. He keeps trying to set the head correct upon his shoulders, and it keeps flopping over lifelessly. Over and over. If it wasn’t for the grisly reality it would be comical in his repeated failed attempts to get the foal to sit in a way that looks even remotely natural.

Gearing sits there and holds the colt’s head in place as he says nervously, “I know it might be a bit too late, and there’s likely nothing that can be done... But should we call Cure over here and see if she can do anything? I mean… I know some first aid but this is way beyond me.”

Pharynx’s body jerks and jumps and he grins widely as he pulls back out of Gearing’s grasp. “See! I’m pretty durable!” He winces and rubs a hoof over the side of his neck as he says with a groan, “I’m not running up the stairs any more… That hurt… Stupid stairs.”

Gearing’s eyes jump to their widest and he grimaces as he looks Pharynx over. “I don’t know if I’d phrase it like that… And if that were the case, how’d you end up a skeleton tangled in the cabling of the entryway access panels?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t keep me down though,” the foal says flatly.

Gearing looks at Swift, who’s looking unmistakably disturbed by these turn of circumstances, and says, “Well, let’s get going, we got a lot we need to get done.” And she quickly opens the trapdoor to leave.

Pharynx hops and bounds over after Swift happily as she’s climbing the stairs. Gearing brings up the rear after closing the vault door behind them. They gather up at the top of the stairs and Gearing shuts the trapdoors to the lower area before nodding towards Swift to go ahead and exit.

Gearing takes the lead with the small bouncy colt not far away. As they are getting outside, Gearing asks, “So, anything you’re looking for out here? We’re looking for supplies we need… You need anything?” He ends up having to step and move out of the way for the hyperactive foal as he bounces around to keep from crashing into each other.

Pharynx looks at Gearing and grins widely as he says, “Nah… I don’t think so anyway.” He pauses what he’s doing and his smile starts disappearing as he’s looking in the direction they are going. As he looks like he’s about to finish his thought, his head explodes and throws gore in a conical pattern behind him.

Gearing watches this and his eyes go wide in absolute horror as it seems to happen to him in slow motion. Before the young foal’s body, and previously attached chunks, land on the ground, Swift is already diving for cover. Just before Pharynx falls over with a soft plop, the sound of the large caliber rifle’s report greets Gearing.

Gearing, hearing the sound, is yanked back to reality and jumps to the ground, rolling around and down an impression as another round zips harmlessly through the airspace he had just been occupying.

Swift peeks out of her hiding spot and looks around for Gearing’s body. Her eyes settle on the foal’s corpse for a moment, and is stricken by the kind of grief that only a mother can know. True, it’s not her foal, but it was still a foal’s life cut short. She whips her head in the general direction she thinks the shot came from with a look of unhindered malice etched on it. Her ears twitch as she hears rifle fire form somewhere behind her and to her right.

The general direction that Gearing was standing last she’d seen him.

She hopes beyond hope that the sound is not a new enemy arriving on the battlefield, but an ally enacting justice on the foal’s behalf. She sees a quick glint of light, along with some dust and debris being kicked up a distance away. She runs as fast as her hooves can take her as she charges the position in a curve, keeping as much between her and the apparent attacker as she can.

An earth pony in combat armor and a sniper rifle brings his gun back up as he swears and favors the one bleeding shoulder. He pops up, using the debris in front of him as support as he takes aim through his scope at where he’d seen a flash of a muzzle a moment ago. The clattering of rubble brings his attention to his left and up, as Swift pounces down on him with a widely swung powerhoof. He hops back and away from her, bringing up his rifle to block and deflect her blows. After a few moments of working to get the barrel around for a point blank hip fire shot at her, while barely dodging the hoofs whizzing by him, he starts spinning around like a morbid water sprinkler as a large hole appears on one side of his neck, and an even larger one appears on the other side of it.

The report of the fatal shot reaches Swift as the stallion collapses in a heap at her hooves. She hops over to where he’d been standing and sees Gearing step into the light and pick up the brass from his shot after loading his next round. She breathes a sigh of relief, then flops down into a sitting position out of pure shock as what has just transpired catches up to her.

Gearing, after picking up the last of his spent brass, turns to direct his attention to Pharynx, already well on his way into a depressive funk at the thought of having to bury yet another foal in less than a week. He brings his head up, and stops half way as he stares eye to eye with Pharynx.

The dark blue pegasus in Gearing’s head sits grumpily with his forehooves crossed as it mutters, If this kid starts haunting me too, I swear I’m killing somepony.

The two stare at each other for a few moments before Gearing blinks a few times and shakes his head. He gives Pharynx a once over with his eyes and asks, “You alright, kid?”

Pharynx sits down and grabs his head with his forehooves as he tilts side to side. “Mostly, suddenly got a bit of a headache for some reason.”

Gearing looks towards where the foal had fallen literally just moments before, and sees nothing. Not a spot of blood. Not even a fragment of a piece of gore that had been there just moments before. He looks at Pharynx and says solemnly, “Well, I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you were durable… but could you try to not have that happen anymore? My heart can’t take it.”

Pharynx hops and skips then trots off towards Swift as he says nonchalantly, “Hey, I didn’t do it this time, talk with that jerk.”

The pair join Swift at the corpse of their attacker, and Gearing is genuinely surprised to find out this individual was actually alone in the attack. He expected it to be the precursor or signal for a larger ambush. Possibly even intentionally done so they would go after him, and get suckered into an even worse ambush. But, no, there’s no trace of any other individual with this would be assassin.

Gearing stands there, surveying the scene as he reattaches the silencer to his rifle. He catches eye contact with Swift enough to see her raised eyebrow. “As long as he could see and hear my gun shooting at him, he’d be focused on me and not the silly filly running around the block after him.” He gives a wide grin as she gives him a light snort in response.

Swift looks at Pharynx as he’s busy sniffing at the body at her hooves. She reaches over with her forehooves, grabs him with one, and yanks him into an oppressive hug, grateful to see him alive. She doesn’t care that it’s not one of hers. Seeing foals die is something a mother never wants to experience. Theirs or not.

Gearing starts sorting through the stallion’s gear, stripping them of absolutely everything, as he asks, “You okay over there?”

Swift nods and looks at him while still holding Pharynx to her. “Yes. Thanks… Nice shot by the way… You’re sure you’re ‘just a technician’?”

Gearing grins at her and only partially answers, “I do know what I’m good at, and I’m good at what I do know.” He roots around in the pile he’s accumulated as he asks, “Any idea who this clown is? Can’t be a raider by himself.”

Swift rummages through the stallion’s ratty saddle bag and finds some notes. Her eyes shoot to their max size as she huffs, “Gunners… he’s a damn Gunner!”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and asks, “Like the guys that I gassed? Great… Who’s he after? Couldn’t be the kid he’s been stuck in a maintenance hatch too long for that to be the case.”

Swift holds up the note and reads it again as she gets a sour expression on her face. “Kill the target as quickly as possible… We won’t stand for one of our kind dishonoring the rest of us by sleeping with ghoul creatures…” She stows it in her bag as she comments, “It’s in Suncat… they’re after Nahlah.” She looks at Gearing and stares daggers. “There’s someone else out here that needs to be killed, it seems.”

“Just add them to the list.” Gearing shrugs. “Seems like everyone’s after us for one reason or another… Find anything useful? What about that rifle he was using, it any good?”

Swift shakes her head and passes over the rifle that the Gunner had been using. “Well, I don’t need it; see what you think of it.”

Gearing takes it and starts going over it carefully like only a skilled technician can. “This is a very nice weapon… A G11 sniper variant… custom job… Large ammo capacity… but… he didn’t have a lot of ammo with him.” He gathers up the brass that was fired and realizes the Gunner only had about a dozen rounds to work with once he got here. He looks over everything this Gunner has, the condition of his equipment, and the Gunner himself.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

This Gunner’s been through a lot just to get here, Gearing realizes. Given what he does have, especially such a sad state of supplies, there’s a possibility that he wasn’t alone on this contract. Not originally anyway. The rest of his comrades must have fell victim to some karmedic act upon them along the way. There’s a possibility that the shots he’d taken were simply trying to get supplies from them to carry on his mission, and they don’t actually know Nahlah’s there, only that she was last seen in this general direction… So it’d be best if they thought all of the team was destroyed by the random violence apparently so common in the wastes of Equestria.

Swift packs up and stows the combat armor that did absolutely nothing to protect the Gunner from Gearing’s well placed shots as she thinks about giving it to Handy when they get back. It’s an exceptionally good suit in great repair and she can’t think of anypony else she’d rather have wearing this.

Between the two they do a proper job of vulturing the corpse of anything they deem usable and worth the pack space. But, before they leave, Gearing asks, “That all you want?” Swift gives a solid nod then watches as Gearing scoops everything else up into the ripped plaid clothes the Gunner had been wearing under the combat armor. He scoots the body over to the edge, then unceremoniously kicks the corpse down the rubble into a crevice below made by the collapsed concrete. “Let the radroaches have’em,” Gearing comments with a snort.

As they continue their journey, Gearing grabs the items they’d decided they didn’t want, carefully tied up in the plaid harness like a lunch box, and looks around at his surroundings as he goes.

Swift gives the body one final look, wondering what Gearing has planned and who he really is before trotting off with him. Gearing is a puzzle she has yet to figure out. His skills and interests seem to be as varied as his swift mood swings. Swinging from benevolent and caring, to passing out murder and death like they’re drinks at the Grand Galloping Gala. Admittedly with justifiable cause for each incidence of the later. The more she learns about him, the more she likes. Though, he’s still an unknown variable in her life and with that comes a good amount of hesitation.

After they’ve traveled a distance, Gearing trots over to another pile of rubble. He crams the plaid package of items to discard into a gap, stuffing it in as far as he can, before turning around and knocking over a bit of rubble and concrete on top of the hole with a well placed buck.

As he’s walking back to the group, he notices Swift’s raised eyebrow and offers, “This way, even if they find the body, they’ll just think some bandits got him… We don’t want to be carrying all of his gear, a bit too obvious.”

Swift bobs her head around then nods agreement. Logical enough for her.

They continue on in a route that Gearing notices will make them avoid the area of excitement the day prior. He remains notably silent on that tidbit of information as they continue on. He’s unsure if Swift is either unaware of that small collection of buildings, or she knows about it and knows enough to avoid it. Either way it’s an area he’d like to avoid for a little while, if possible, given the questions and concerns it may raise. Yet, due to whatever intervention of the fates, they don’t run into any more opposition along the way. Not even a wayward radroach or mantis. Though that is a mixed blessing given one of the primary goals of this excursion is gathering food while on this trip.

However, as they continue on their trek to Megamac, they spot an approaching caravan coming from the other direction with a pair of wagons and at least a few of them give the impression of being guards with their weapons easily within reach and wary eyes. They give it a wide berth and try to stay decidedly out of its way as both groups eye each other.

The blue pegasus in Gearing’s head bops him on the head repeatedly as it points at the mutated two headed cow creatures pulling the wagons. He’d learned from the children that the one they acquired from the Gunners was called a Brahmin. But he had a hard time believing it wasn’t some unique mutation. But here, before his very eyes, are two more identically mutated specimens.

After they’ve already passed Swift breathes a sigh of relief and says, “Just a trade caravan.”

Gearing looks back and forth between her and the caravan then asks softly, “Well… we are looking for things… think they might have what we need?”

Swift looks back and forth then raises a hoof high in the air as she yells, “Whoa! Hey! Caravanners!”

The lead caravanner walks around from the other side of the caravan and halts its progression. Her appearance around the front with her wide smile and friendly hoof wave also puts a halt to Gearing’s progress towards them. Ever so slightly.

For a moment, he froze in place, completely locked up. The filly, he’s pretty sure it’s a filly, has patches of her pelt missing, okay all of the coat, the other missing parts seem to be sloughing off in red blots and necrotic grey fleshy bits. Her pink mane and tail had seen better days, and a much higher thread count before whatever form of dashed up mange struck her. She’s sporting a dark colored, and well worn, jacket that has a full pistol holder over it. Though, one of the things that strikes him the most, is what is folded at the sides of them. If he’s right, those are wings. Well, what’s left of them. He’s seen similar on a pegasus that had survived a fireblast before. All of the hair and feathers scorched off and what remained was a crackly red mess. But the damage to these wings, assuming they were wings, was caused by something else. They’re intact. Mostly. They just look like a sad bastardization of what a pegasus would glide around with. Like some story cruel parents might use to keep their kids in line. ‘Be good little foals or your wings will turn into this!’

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

The trotting dead. That’s how Handy had described ghouls. And as bad as that description had been, the reality of the matter was far worse. And if this wasn’t a ghoul, he’d hate to see what a ghoul was after seeing this.

The ghoul pegasus asks, with a rough voice that sounds to Gearing like somepony that’d been chain-smoking cheap unfiltered cigarettes for a few centuries, “Well hey there smooth coat. What can we do ya for?”

Swift sits down a little distance away and motions towards the wagons. “Are you just transporting, or are you willing to sell to individuals?”

The ghoul shrugs. “Caps are caps, smooth coat. What are ya looking for?”

Swift tilts her head and asks, “What do ya got?”

The ghoul grins a mostly toothy grin, though instead of pearly whites they look more like stained sadness. She looks back over at the others in her group, one of which rolls their eyes and shakes their head. The ghoul bucks the nearby wagon with a hind hoof, and the side springs open into a little stall as she breaks into an overly rehearsed sales pitchy song.

She hops up on her hind legs and spins around as she starts pointing out various items, “Got some of this, got some of that-” She leaps back towards the next wagon and waves her front hooves as she says, “even got a room in the back, if ya wanna tap that-” And motions with both hooves towards a gussied up light pink earth pony mare with a faux flower decoration in her mane who gives a wink and blows a kiss at them.

Before the ghoul can get any further Gearing waves his forehooves in the air and screams out, “Whoa now! Just needing supplies, none of that!”

The ghoul stops and half frowns as her forehooves droop down to the ground. She obviously enjoys the bit, though the other members of the caravan seem thankful that someone put an early stop to it. This time.

The ghoul walks over towards him, examining him closely as she approaches. “Well, like what?”

Gearing pulls out his charts and scraps of paper from his saddle bags. He sorts through them one at a time, consulting his PipBuck regularly, as he starts going through the entire list of everything he needs for the various projects he’s working on. After a while, and actually not finding as much as he’d like, the ghoul asks, “How you paying for all this, anyway?”

It’s at this unfortunate point that one of the caravan unicorn stallions decides to check his shotgun, whether out of boredom or trying to look intimidating none can tell, as he racks a new round.

Swift’s ears twitch at the sound of the shotgun cocking and glares right at him as she says, “You know… it is not necessary to try and intimidate paying customers. If that barrel starts moving in this direction… so help me…”

The stallion in question smiles crookedly, nervously, as Swift’s dagger stare suddenly becomes more frightening than the gun he’s holding aloft in front of himself with his own levitation glow. The barrel end droops until it’s pointed at the ground and he stands there looking like a foal getting scolded after getting caught with their hoof in the cookie jar.

The ghoul looks back and forth between the two then just rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Don’t worry none about him. He’s just an idjit.”

Gearing pulls some of the spare gear and items he’s accumulated and sets them out. He also pulls out one of the bomb collars he’d taken off the children. An idea strikes him, and he thinks it might be morally questionable, but, hey, business is business. And there’s nothing wrong with a little innocent flirting, as long as it ends there or he might end up hurting Sable. But, given her current appearance, she probably doesn’t get that kind of attention very often, and might appreciate it.

So, Gearing turns on the charm, irresponsibly so. Fluffing up and out his wings, catching what light the dismal sky was willing to let through, and making sure to give her a good profile view of his smile as he asks, “Hey there… So, I’m not really a fan of these things, but I’m sure a…” he eyes her up and down, intentionally taking a while so she can ‘catch’ his leering eyes crawling their way over her, “resourceful, intelligent, young businessfilly like yourself can make a tidy profit off these.” He stretches his wings out casually, but catches the light as he makes himself shine just that bit much more. He gives her the once-over again, this time ending with a hard eye contact, that he uses to give a very suggestive wink.

The ghoul can’t help but notice the obvious flirting attempt, and, actually, plays along with it. She shimmies her shoulders and gives her flank a little shake. “Ouuu you got my filly bits all aquiver there, metal sides.”

Gearing grins again and gives a quick eyebrow wiggle, but before he can say anything Swift leans over and asks, not terribly quietly either, “Couldn’t you use those for some improvised mines or something? Sure you really wanna get rid of them?”

Gearing nods as he sets them down. “Of course I could. I already thought about that… but there’s things I need and these have a decently high value as they are… If I can get what I need with them, then good riddance.”

Gearing slides over to the ghoul and they sit face to face, talking as they go through the back and forth of haggling over the materials.

Swift is moderately impressed by the display, if not also mildly disturbed by it for a variety of reasons.

After they had come to a general agreement to the relative value of goods, Gearing does what Swift wasn’t quite expecting, and it draws the majority of her attention as he practically offers himself to sweeten the deal.

“…Ma’am, I can promise you that you haven’t seen anything like my talents-” He pauses then purses his lips as he thinks a moment before finishing his sentence. He remembers a bit he’d heard about ghouls not aging after being changed, and it’s pretty much impossible to tell their age afterwards. “Pardon, but, how old are you?”

She bats her eyes at him and demurely holds a hoof to her mouth as she turns her head and replies, “It’s not polite to ask a filly her age, you know.”

He folds a wing down in front of him and gives a deep bow before he rises again and gives her a grin. “Sorry. I only ask because you’re a ghoul, so I’d thought that there might be a good possibility that you were alive prewar, and thus you would completely understand my value as a certified Stable-Tec technician.” He reaches back and rubs a hoof through his mane as he says sheepishly, “Admittedly I’m rather prideful of the fact, but I assure you it’s well earned and deserved. You’re getting a bargain for not just getting A technician’s time, but my time.” He leans forward and winks as he says, “And oh yes, there’s a big difference in value.”

She looks him over and gives him a coy grin. “Oh, I agree entirely. I believe it, especially from Stable-Tec’s technician of the month.”

His eyes practically twinkle as he looks at her, and gives a strong affirmative nod. The comment only striking him on a cursory level as true, but not deep enough to ask the most important question this comment should have posed. Namely how was it possible that anypony in this current world could have known he’d made technician of the month from Stable-Tec, which was really saying something considering how big the company as a whole had been. If nothing else, he’d not even given his name.

They turn over their agreed on supplies, with Gearing managing to get rid of the slave collars, except for that faulty one he’d already used as part of a trap, among other things taking up space in his pack and getting a variety of scrap electronics that he has a decent idea of cannibalizing for what he truly needs, along with a sack of caps and few rounds of ammunition, even some for his new-to-him G11.

As Gearing is stowing these items into his saddle bags the ghoul wraps up a cloth package using the front seat of one of the wagons. She walks by and drops it in front of him, pausing long enough to catch eye contact with him and fluttering her eyes. “Here’s a bit of something extra for you.” She waves a hoof in the air signaling the conclusion of business and points away the way they’d been going and they all start to leave.

Gearing looks at the package at his hooves for a moment, tilting his head continuously ever so slowly as he looks at it. He calls out after her, “Hey, didn’t you say you needed me to fix something?”

She continues walking, but she looks over her shoulder at him and gives him a soft warm smile. “You already have.”

He’s a bit confused as he looks at the package and, as they are leaving, he wraps his wings around himself and it as he sits down, like a raptor hiding it’s prey, as he unwraps and looks at the surprise. Inside he finds a Stealth Buck, and an attachment for his old model PipBuck. After a quick examination he realizes it’s an external broadcaster module, and will solve many of the problems he’s had brewing on his mind, and the reason he was asking for a lot of the components he was asking for. He quickly stows the gift in his saddle bag as he runs after them. He catches enough wind to take flight then lands next to the ghoul at a canter pace. She stops and turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow, or what was left of what used to be the area that had an eyebrow.

Gearing hands her a slip of paper and smiles. “If you ever need the services of someone like me… here’s how to get hold of me.”

The ghouls takes it and carefully stows it in her jacket. “Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that, don’t you worry.” She gives him another smile and a wink.

He flashes her his over the top grin again before turning to head back to Swift.

She giggles and shakes her head as she turns to leave and comments, “You are a glorious bastard.”

Gearing starts strutting a bit and exaggeratedly walking with each word as he replies, “Oh. Yes. I. Am.”

The trio regroups, with Swift having to foalsit the whole time they were bartering as Pharynx kept hopping around and wanting to wander off and look at practically everything. They continue on their way towards the town Swift had mentioned might have some salvage, with Swift slightly in the lead, as they remain wary of their surroundings.

As they’re going, and not really having any judgment on how far they may be traveling, Gearing comments, “If you guys need a break, make sure to let me know. I can literally go non stop, but I understand you’ll eventually need a pitstop. So don’t try and tough it out, just say something.”

Swift waves it away with a hoof. “Don’t worry, I will. I’m not going to march myself to death. But that’s not going to be for a long while.”

Gearing nods and says, “That goes for you too, little one.” A moment later his side and back plates tink with the sounds of small impacts. He turns his head to look at what he feels land on him and sees Pharynx riding between his saddle bags with a giant grin on his face. Gearing grins widely at him then turns back to look where he’s going as he says, “That works too!”

Swift snickers and shakes her head. “Well, that’s one way to keep up pace.”

Gearing waves a hoof then motions towards Pharynx. “If your hooves get to bothering you, you can ride on me if you want.”

Swift missteps a few times as her eyes go wide. Her walking goes out of rhythm for a moment as she looks at him. “What?! No way!”

He nods back towards Pharynx as he says, “Oh you’re not that heavy… I could take you, him, and all of our packs together, and it wouldn’t even slow me down.”

Swift’s mind flashes to the gossipy talk that Scarlet initiated in the Medical bay, and how it nearly broke Scarlet’s brain. She also remembers how more than eager Sable was to chime in and give all the juicy details. Though Swift has extreme doubts on if Gearing knew about all of that. But, letting her ride him? Phrasing!

The little pony’s voice in her head repeats, Could be fun.

“Oh hell no!” Swift blurts out as she picks up the pace and starts motoring away. “Nope. Nope. No. No, thank you. I can carry myself on my own four hooves.”

Gearing yells after her, “Hey, come on! I’m strong but I’m not exactly fast at anything, slow down would ya?”

Another conversation pops into her head regarding Gearing and Sable’s apparent marathon sessions. Swift shakes her head rapidly and flushes as she yells out, more to the pony in her own head as the context difference is horrible, and never to be explained, “Oh Gaaaawwwd! Just shut up!”

Gearing shakes his head before looking back at Pharynx, who’s lounging lazily sideways over Gearing’s back at this point. “The hell’s up with her?”

Pharynx raises his forehooves up and to the side before lazily letting them droop back down at Gearing’s side. “Beats me. You’ve known her longer than I have.”

Footnote: Internal component 01 not responding. . .

Internal component 02 not responding. . .

Internal component 03 not responding. . .

Author's Note

Progress continues with the over all story, with this chapter giving some clues that there's more to the little red foal than meets the eye. This posting schedule is rough! But, with help, I'm managing thus far.

-Quillsy

19 Tolls for Rolls

Swift leads the way for Gearing, while Pharynx continues to lazily ride across Gearing’s back, on a slight detour towards a collapsed farm house of some kind. As they get closer they can tell what had once been the house has completely collapsed into a pile of rubble. Only a pair of the corner studs are still remaining vertical. While the rest of the house has been reduced to so much refuse. A short distance from the house is the family garage that is somehow, despite all logic, still standing while being skewed way off square.

Gearing has Pharynx hop off his back as he gets close to the garage and finally figures out exactly what is still holding the garage up. And it’s not simply the willpower of an inanimate object.

Through the gap where one of the garage’s double doors lays widely ajar, and the other lays flat on the ground off its hinges, a large delivery wagon takes up almost half of the interior space of this garage. Where it had once been used to move the produce and cargo of this small operation, it currently serves another function. As a stubborn obelisk that would make any earth pony proud in its refusal to allow the rest of the garage to fall as the wall rests across it’s hulking metal sides.

As Gearing is heading inside slowly along the side of the wagon not currently holding up the building, Swift asks, “You sure that’s smart to go in there?”

Gearing pauses and looks back at her over his shoulder as he grins. “Maybe not. But considering how it looks, and from what I can see from here, the inside’s not been picked over much.” He waves the thought away lightly with a wing. “I’m not worried about the roof falling on me. Won’t kill me. But you two stay out here.” He looks over at Pharynx and smirks. “Especially you, little one. You’d get squished if it fell on you.”

Pharynx frowns and sits down. “No thanks. I’ll watch from here.”

Swift turns and heads over to the rubble of the house as she says, “If you need any help, just yell.” Gearing waves the thought away and continues inside as Swift starts picking over the collapsed house.

Gearing slinks in, careful not to hit any of the hanging wood from the ceiling as he’s not sure how much vibration it would take for this centuries old building to finally give up and just crumble apart of its own volition. But, once inside, he finds that there’s much more room than there appears from the exterior. Also, that his thought of there being some worthwhile salvage left because of it’s rickety nature proves valid. While not a large armory or stockpile of food, this garage also housed what must have once been the farm family’s workshop. Among the collection of rotting wooden material that’d fallen from the slowly crumbling roof, Gearing finds the tell tale signs of craftsponies. Various tools and machining components, quite a few of which are rusted beyond any real use beyond it’s metal weight, sit surrounded with other supplies. Gearing quickly sorts through the various bins and sorting area, pulling out the few items he thinks he can actually use. Then proceeds to stow the items he’s pretty sure he can trade off to somepony else. Among them, and stacked both around the workbench and in the back of the wagon, Gearing finds a couple locked containers.

Instead of sitting there and tempting the fates, and wayward stiff winds, Gearing quickly start sliding the boxes out of the garage and outside for him to work on and hopefully unlock them. Humorously, the boxes glow and get pulled away from the entrance, and he looks out to see Pharynx stacking the boxes near himself with his levitation magic as he keeps his distance. After Gearing finishes removing the locked containers, and pocketing the other loose valuables, he starts heading back out.

Gearing sits down with the boxes and gets to work unlocking and sorting out the contents. Pharynx watches from nearby, tilting his head side to side as he seems to find the entire process fascinating. After a couple boxes, and watching Gearing remove some items and toss others, Pharynx gets up and trots over with Swift to look through the rubble of the house.

Adorably, Pharynx comes trotting back every now and then with a big smile on his face and floating one piece of salvage or another that Gearing seems to be collecting. A screwdriver here. A couple bolts and washers there. Each time beaming with pride as Gearing thanks and praises him for helping them out.

Gearing still isn’t sure about Pharynx. The whole situation is just unnerving. But, he’s willing to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. Still, he doesn’t plan on giving him the keys to the city, as it were, anytime soon. As Gearing tosses aside the last metal box, that he frustratingly discovered had nothing but mostly rotten wood scraps in it, Pharynx comes trotting over squealing with joy.

“Gearing! Come look what me and Swift found!” Pharynx says happily as he hops around Gearing in a circle.

Gearing chuckles and follows him over to find Swift sitting on a ripped cushion from an old couch as she points a hoof towards an area of freshly uncovered debris. “Looks like they had a safe on an upper floor that fell down. It’s still locked.”

Gearing hops over and starts slowly working on the lock. Despite being located in some small rural farm, the lock is, frustratingly, harder to open than all of the boxes he’d already worked through combined. A couple bobby pins are snapped in sacrifice to the cause until the tumblers finally relent and he’s able to open the door. Inside Gearing finds a collection of paperwork, mostly financial records that no long pertain to anything or anypony, along with a key to some safety deposit box somewhere, and a small collection of ammunition of various sizes. Shotgun shells being the largest representative, but a few 10mm rounds and some rounds that’ll actually fit his rifle round out the collection. He grabs the ammo and the key, leaving the personal documents in the safe where they were.

Having salvaged all they care to spend time uncovering, they continue on the trail to Megamac, with Pharynx, again, hopping onto Gearing’s back and enjoying the free travel accommodations.

After they’ve been traveling a while longer they spot a pair of gates set into a large wall made of scrap metal, wagons, and even a couple capsized train cars. Inset into the wall, just on the interior’s side of it, is a tower that looms over the edge, with a couple ponies keeping watch on the horizon. Even from this distance, Gearing can see the binoculars pointed in his direction by one guard, and the rifle with the oversized scope aimed right at him in the magical over glow of the unicorn standing next to them. The front gate opens briefly, allowing a group of ponies with a wagon full of supplies, and one hyperactive foal in the back, inside. Then the gates close behind them and Gearing notices the trio of ponies apparently keeping watch at the entrance.

Gearing gives a large smile and a wave at the tower and the guardsponies, gauging their reaction.

They don’t shoot. Which is a vast improvement over the last pony that had looked at them through a scope. He watches them closely, paying careful attention to the muzzle of the firearm he can see. While he keeps a smile on his face and keeps a steady pace towards them, he plans on jumping to the side the moment he sees a flash from the barrel end. Swift might hate him for getting plowed over by him, but he’s sure she’ll get over it pretty quickly if he manages to keep her from getting a fatal lobotomy.

But, none of those preparations are required as they approach the wall. They’re simply watched and, judging by the look of the unicorn mare to the left, the sight of random ponies coming up to the gate is so common she’s actually bored. She gives them a side long look as she raises a hoof to her mouth and yawns, before turning her eyes further out to the wasteland. The shotgun with the drum on its belly gives a good enough warning that she may seem reserved, but at close range anyone stupid enough to start trouble would be turned into a sludgy mess rather quickly.

He can appreciate that dichotomy and respect it. The latter of which is probably the more important aspect. Though he can only guess to why the older buck on the far right is the only one out here without a set of armored barding on currently.

Like the mare on the left, the two earth pony stallions talking to each other on the right are likewise a living juxtaposition. Though they stand there looking as calm as can be, Gearing can see the tell tale signs of a stallion not to be fucked with lightly. The younger of the two stallions, a brown buck with a matte black mane that looks to Gearing like he’d just stepped off the front line, is standard fare for an imposing figure. Even through his armor Gearing can see the framework of rather thick muscles.

Though the older stallion with him, through whatever form of hell he’s survived thus far, has the first beat in every category. His face is one that has seen a lot, not just in a matter of quick violence like most of the wasteland’s denizens, but genuine age. This stallion isn’t a young buck anymore and, judging by everything Gearing’s seen thus far, that puts him in a rather niche category. The one where individuals had faced down the wasteland, over a long period of time, and actually won.

Being alive, still alive, even after going through whatever this stallion had been through and the wastes had thrown at him, is enough of a metric for Gearing to declare victory.

But then, what the fuck is up with this stallion’s eyes? Gearing wonders. They’re practically glowing? No. They are glowing.

As the older stallion drops down his sunglasses to regard Gearing and company, sizing them up, the yellow hue that looks like targeting sensors from some weapon about to unleash a skywagon full of whoop ass on anyone in range radiates enough for Gearing to notice. But, they aren’t cybernetic, not that he can tell anyway. The eyes almost look normal. Except they glow.

Neat. The little blue pegasus in his head comments as it scratches it’s chin and looks at the old timer. Maybe we should ask what the deal is?

Gearing instantly decides against it. After all, old people didn’t get and stay old by being easy to kill in this kind of environment. Which means this old stallion was as dangerous as he looks, if not more so. A really bad pony to make enemies with by making a stupid insensitive or nosy comment.

As they are trotting up, the older earth pony looks them over one at a time. Tilts his head looking at Pharynx a bit confused, as he sees him still riding Gearing, then at Swift. After a few moments he glances back over at Gearing, then back at Swift, but does a double take as he goes back to staring at Gearing. He cocks his head ever so slightly as he partially closes one eye, and Gearing can’t help but notice as he slides his glasses down to get a more full look at him. Those glowing eyes are hard to miss.

But, he seems to have a fan. So he strolls right up to the older stallion but, just before he gets as close as he was intending, which would be practically invading personal space, the unicorn mare raises one hoof to stop them as she stifles a yawn while saying, “Hold ooooon.” She smacks her lips a bit before muttering, “Damn card game.” She shakes her head and looks over at her earth pony companion as she raises an eyebrow and is obviously expecting something. But he stands there silent as he watches as Gearing and the older stallion seem to have a face off right there in front of the town’s gates.

Gearing and the older stallion stare into each other’s eyes for a while, creating an awkward silence that is only broken when Gearing gives a slight tilt of his head and grins before he says, “Yeah, I’ve been told I have some rather dazzling eyes…” He flutters his eyes at the older stallion then gives a chuckle as the old buck shakes his head in confusion.

The younger stallion looks them over then asks in a rather gruff voice, “State your business, smart guy.”

Gearing sits down and waves towards Swift. “We’re out looking for some supplies and wondering if there’s anyone here to barter with.” The unicorn mare’s head jumps over to look at him and, like the older earth pony had before, suddenly finds him more interesting as she tilts her head and tries to figure him out. Gearing, notices her staring, then flashes her a smile and gives his wings a light scattering flutter as he waves it off. “Sorry, hun. I’m already spoken for and am a happily taken stallion.”

She whips her head violently back and forth as she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to process what she’d just heard. She looks at the two stallions in front of Gearing and asks, “The hell is with this protect-” She goes silent mid sentence with a raised hoof of the older earth pony, in her direction, as Gearing’s eyes jerk from him to her and become far less friendly and flirtatious.

“I’ll handle this…” the older buck says to her before turning to look at Gearing. “Sorry. She doesn’t know. Don’t mind her.”

Gearing tilts his head, looking at the older buck as he works through the situation.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

His eyes go wide for a moment in realization then says with a sigh of resignation, “Yeah… I get that a lot.”

The earth stallion smacks his lips and nods. “I bet. So. They have plenty of folks inside with goods and services. The fee’s 10 caps a pony… even for the foal.” He motions towards the younger buck in the armor next to him. “Talk with them, they’ll get you sorted.”

Gearing looks beyond the two stallions and starts taking in the walls and the gates a bit. Despite looking like a rusted mess, the walls look pretty sturdy as far as he can tell. This is probably as good of a fortification that could be managed with what little was available in the wastes. The production centers were some of the most anticipated to be struck in case of all out armageddon, so it’s no wonder they don’t even have the capability to build better structures.

Maybe in enough time. And especially if he has anything to say about it. But for now it’s the best they can do.

But, before all of that, he needs what he needs, and the first step for that is, apparently, behind these walls. He looks back at the brown stallion and asks, “So, you’re charging ponies to trade. Even before they get inside to trade? What if there’s nothing in there we want?”

The brown stallion shakes his head. “No, it’s not to trade, it’s a basic toll. Everyone pays. It funds the local defense and is used to deal with psycho raider bullshit.”

Gearing grins and raises a hoof. “Ah! But that’s pretty lucrative in itself isn’t it? Not just in a warm fuzzy feeling for doing a good deed, but for filling the saddle bags too. Am I right?”

The older stallion chuckles as he appraises Gearing. “I think I might just start liking you… Not scared of them at all, are you?” Gearing simply shrugs in reply.

The brown stallion chuckles and shakes his head before he looks at Gearing. “Yeah, sometimes. Other times not really.” He looks Gearing over then sighs and rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m not trying to give you the shake down. Them’s the fees for entry and if you don’t want to pay you can’t come in.”

Gearing tilts his head and zips his eyes over to Swift as he thinks over the situation and then looks over at the five different individuals he can see currently. “So if we just said ‘no’ and turned to leave?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

The stallion waves his hoof off behind them. “Then off you go… have a nice day. We’re not stopping ya.”

Gearing shrugs as he looks at Swift, apparently satisfied with the answer enough to not worry about imminent slaughter, but tries to figure out how he wants to go about doing this. He just earned a good bit of caps off those bomb collars, after a lot of haggling, but he’d hate to spend it just to get through the door, only to find out he can no longer afford what he wants and needs after getting in.

Swift looks at the guard, having similar thoughts on handing over her meager funds, and asks, “There anyone inside that might pay for a hired hoof?”

The guard looks over at her and shrugs. “Plenty of folk need things done, what did you have in mind?”

Swift grinds a hoof into the ground as a grin slowly starts growing across her muzzle. “How about a bit of muscle?”

He nods and motions inside. “I’m sure there’s a few in there. Guard duty or notes on wanting someone dealt with. But if you want some real money, there’s the tournament starting soon.”

The older stallion chuckles. “It’s mostly for fun and caps. A sort of local preliminary to earn a place with the rest of the wannabes at the next bout. Then do well enough there and get an invite to try out at the Hoofington Arena.” He grins at her. “If you think you got what it takes that is.”

Swift snorts and tilts her head up as she look at him sideways. “Oooh I’m sure I do.”

He snickers and shrugs. “Well then... Entry fee’s 100 caps...”

The brown buck chimes in, “So that’d be 30 for you to get in… 130 over all.”

Swift tilts her head and asks, “How about… you let us in… pay my entry fee, and I split the prize money with you?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re so full of yourself. Think I haven’t heard that one before? Look. If you lose, then I’m out the caps. I’m not having that come out of my pay if you decide to skip out on the bill.”

She sits up straight and huffs, “Are you questioning my honor?”

He rolls his eyes then points a hoof at her. “Filly, I don’t even know you.”

She smirks at him. “Let me in, and I’ll give you a good show… and then you will.”

He looks over at Gearing and nods a head towards Swift. “Is she serious?”

Gearing shrugs and chuckles as he realizes her bartering and negotiation skills need a lot of work. “Yeah, afraid she is. But...” He raises a hoof for emphasis as he looks the brown stallion in the eyes. “I can vouch that she’s got one hell of a mean left hoof.”

Swift looks over at him for a moment as she tilts her head then, realizing the reference, cringes and looks away at a dead patch of grass. That’s certainly a nice patch of grass. Dull grayish brown color scheme wonderfully compliments the rest of the Wasteland Chic decorating the landscape. The little pony in her head critiques as she sips on wine and tries to completely ignore her surroundings for a few moments.

The stallion looks over at Swift and is about to say something, but looks to his side as he gets nudged. He glances sideways at the older stallion long enough to catch eye contact and the slight nod of his chin. The brown buck lets out a sigh as he nods and says to Swift, “Alright. But you’re going to be watched. If you lose you’re paying for the entry fees and tolls. If you win, you pay me half of what you get.” He points a hoof at her. “I expect payment when the fight’s over. Don’t pay and you’ll be thrown in jail. Skip out and you’ll be hunted down. Got it?”

She scoffs and pulls away. “I don’t need to be threatened! I have my honor. You’ll get your money.”

He rolls his eyes and nickers. “I hope so, getting a team to hunt down deadbeats is such a hassle. You could just avoid the whole annoyance by just paying up now. I really don’t want to mess with the headaches.”

Swift waves it away dismissively. “You’ll get your money, don’t worry.”

Gearing shakes his head then looks at the guard. “You got a pretty big town here.”

The earth pony looks at him sideways and raises an eyebrow. “Yeah…?”

Gearing nods and points a hoof at the gate. “Big place like this. I’m sure you have all kinds of headaches trying to keep it running. Equipment breakdowns. Water filtration, lighting, communications, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…” He taps on his chest and grins. “I just happen to be one of, if not the, most skilled technician you’ll ever meet. I mean, I got a mechanically inclined mind, after all.” He points at his own head and gives it a couple metallic clanks with his hoof as he smirks.

The guard starts snickering. “Actually. Yeah. We do. A lot. Hell, you give ole Breaker Bar, the head of maintenance, a hoof and maybe he’ll finally stop bitching about shit breaking down.”

Gearing grins and tilts his head. “So, how about I barter my skills that way? I mean, I could pay you now, I have the caps, but you’d just be handing me back that much bigger of a stack for my work.” He shrugs then folds his forelegs in front of his chest. “But, let me in and I’ll not only work off my debt, but I’ll give a discount on the rest of the work I do while I’m here.”

The older stallion looks at Gearing over his glasses and grins. “How about you try your hoof in the ring?”

Gearing looks at him sideways and points a wing at Swift. “Fighting’s more her thing.”

He pushes his sunglasses back up covering up his glowing eyes as he grins. “You look like you could handle yourself pretty well. I’d love to see what you can do in the ring.”

Gearing looks at him and partially closes an eye as he says coldly, “No you wouldn’t… really.”

The response just makes the older stallion grin even more. “Ohh hoo boy! Now you’ve really got me curious… yes I would.” He looks over his sunglasses at Gearing again, giving him another glimpse at the yellow glow, as he grins. “Really.”

The younger buck shifts uncomfortably then quickly nods towards Gearing. “Yup. Sounds great. In you go.” He kicks the gate with a hind hoof a couple times without looking. “Open up, they’re coming in.” He looks at Gearing. “I’ll take you to the maintenance head.”

Swift’s jaw falls on the ground as her eyes are wide open. She yells out towards the sky as she throws her hooves towards Gearing. “That’s it!? I get threats of death and being hunted down, but he just gets to walk right in, with a personal guide, pretty as you please?”

The guard looks over at her as the gate’s opening up. “You know how to refurbish a generator? How about trouble shooting a buggy spell matrix?”

Swift looks down and to the side as she grinds a hoof into the ground sheepishly. “Well… no.”

“Then shut up. We got plenty of muscle here.” He flexes his forelegs and chest, causing his armor to ripple with the sway of the actions as he grins. “But somepony that knows what the hell they’re doing around a wrench is far harder to come by.”

Gearing trots on by with his head held high, then just looks at her and grins widely as he strikes a mid stride pose for her benefit, with his glittering wings high in the air, before shrugging his shoulders with a chuckle and continuing inside.

As Gearing and the brown buck guard are disappearing into the town, and Swift has already starting wandering down a side street with Pharynx in tow, the unicorn leans over towards the older earth pony and asks, “See something you like?”

The old buck smirks and readjusts his sunglasses. “Maybe. Both of them. Won’t know until I can see them in the ring.” He turns and looks at Gearing as he mutters, “I got to figure out how to get him in the ring though. That one’s made of shadows and secrets… But his eyes… His eyes don’t lie, and neither do mine.”

Gearing follows the guard as he's lead down the dirty street ways that form the walking paths between the makeshift buildings that make up the majority of the town. The town, as far as he can tell, is almost entirely composed of buildings that have been thrown together from scrap. A few seem to have been made from either old delivery wagons or even train cars. To call this a shanty town would be generous, at least by his standards. But, judging by what he’s seen in the wastes thus far, they must be doing pretty okay for themselves here.

The tolls just to get into the place are probably the reason. The little blue pegasus in his head grumps.

Gearing notices that the path continued up at an incline, before reaching a hump and starting to travel back downwards, at a much steeper angle. Gearing looks over at the guardspony he’s following and asks, “What’s the deal with this town? Seems to be made out of scrap, where’d it all come from?”

The buck chuckles. “Well… that’s all part of the local legend...” He looks over at Gearing and sees the blank faced expression and lets out a sigh. “Right. New guy… Well, according to local legend, the town formed up around a crater from a balefire bomb.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide then he double checks his PipBuck. “Shouldn't it still be irradiated then?”

The buck shakes his head. “The bomb was a dud. Or something. Either way, it didn’t detonate and when it hit, it just left an impact zone…” He looks at Gearing and smirks. “Also, according to the story passed on, a group of Steel Rangers that were stationed here, dismantled the bomb, pulled out the warhead, and took off with it. To get it away from everypony before the thing changed its mind and blew anyway. No one knows where they went. They never came back.”

“How many were here when that happened?” Gearing asks as he looks around at the buildings.

The buck shrugs. “Dunno. A lot by all accounts. They’d been using the Ministry of Technology building and bunker as a refugee center for the local population. If the story’s true, they saved countless lives.”

Gearing looks at him as he tilts his head. “’If’ it’s true? What? You don’t believe it?”

The buck shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s nice to think about heroes coming to save the day, then roaming off into the sunset. But it just seems a little too... perfect. The survivors foraged around and got more materials to build the rest of the town. Took a lot of time. A lot of folks died of radiation poisoning in the process. But they got it done.” He waves a hoof towards the center of town. “They even turned the impact point into a fight ring where they told tournaments.” He shrugs. “Bit of an homage to the Steel Rangers that most are convinced went off and died to save the town.”

Gearing gives just a ghost of a smile. “I think I like the legend version, as opposed to the possibility that they just abandoned everyone to sickness and death.” He scans his gaze back and forth as he asks, “So what about the Ministry of Wartime Technology bunker?”

The guard points off to the side up the road as he leads the way and comments, “That’s where we’re headed actually. Right over here.”

The guard pushes open a door in the side of one of the apparently few buildings that are mostly intact in this whole town, and not completely cobbled together from salvage. Gearing looks at the faded brass placard near the door that reads Ministry of Wartime Technology Local Distribution Management. He steps into the dimly lit building, with the flickering overhead lights, as he slowly soaks in the view and grumbles to himself as he thinks things through.

The building is full of noise and the tell tale signs of ponies at work. Tools clanking, metals squeaking, small pieces cascading along concrete floors and, of course, colorful blasphemous remarks at screw ups and smashed limbs.

The guard yells out, "Head! Hey! Head! I got somepony to help you out so you’ll stop bitching at me." As an older tan earth pony comes out of the interior maze of equipment, the guard motions with his head towards Gearing. "He needs to work off the toll, Breaker, beyond that it's up to y’all. Let me know if he skips out on the bill." Then he turns and walks out of the building leaving Gearing and the rest of the maintenance personnel to their own devices.

Breaker Bar looks him over and frowns. "Shit. Here I thought he was bringing me somepony to get some real work done around here. Not a busted ass protectapony. I don't have time for this with all these other yaywhoos he keeps bringing me..."

Gearing scowls at him for a moment, making him back up and his eyes widen as he wonders if the busted robotic is about to attack. Gearing shrugs as he realizes that there's no point in getting angry about his pet peeve at the moment, and swallows his pride, even temporarily, as his eye twitches. "I’m not an automaton. Actually..." He grins widely and puffs himself up as he proudly puts a hoof on his chest and puts a near game show host performance in his voice as he says, "I’ve brought a solution to all of your problems!" He points at Breaker Bar as he continues, "Your guard friend has managed to secure one hell of a deal for you! Thanks to his savvy negotiation skills he's convinced me to work for you at a discount! The first of my payment should go to the guards at the front gate to settle my entrance toll. But, I'm sure you have far more you need fixed than what it would take to pay off my debt." He looks around the building, his eyes traveling from one arcano-tech gore nightmare to the next, as he says softly, "Far, far more..."

The older stallion looks him over as he sighs and gives Gearing the distinct impression he’s heard this many times before. “Uh huh… whatcha selling?”

Gearing waves a hoof. “Oh no, nothing like that. I’ve bartered my way into town. I need to work off my toll, so I’m here to negotiate a work trade.”

The stallion looks him over and tilts his head. “Uh huh, you’re not the first to try that. I don’t have time for any more layabouts just trying to sit their time out. Do you even know what in tarnation you’re doing?”

Gearing sits down and puffs up his chest with pride as he points a hoof at himself. “Sir, you have before you a genuine Stable-Tec technician. I’ve had training and education that I’d dare say isn’t even available currently. I’m a rarity! There’s a wealth of information up in this glorious dome that make me indispensable. Even before the war. And, by today’s standards?” He nickers. “I’m a modern marvel. And I’m here to help you.” He tilts his head and leans in with a grin. “Bet you ain’t seen one like me before.”

The stallion waves towards a few workponies and says as he points out the offenders in question, “Those three said the same thing.”

Gearing’s head whips over to look at them for a moment, then gives them a critical eye and stares daggers at them, causing them to shift skittishly then try to find work elsewhere. They weren’t ghouls, and one looked barely old enough to have his mark. He turns to the stallion and taps out some commands on his PipBuck then holds it up for inspection. “Well, do they actually have official Stable-Tec credentials on a PipBuck!?”

The stallion gives it a once over and admits as he’s looking back up at Gearing, “Okay, that’s new for sure… I don’t care as long as you can get the job done. What do you know about Ministry of Wartime Technology terminals?”

Gearing strikes a high-winged pose and taps on his chest. “Well I am a Stable-Tec technician after all… The archano-technologies were generally all the same. Terminals are terminals. Even the hardened varieties. But each area has its own differences. Small details really.” He leans in and winks as he points at the maintenance head for emphasis. “Aaahhhh but the details are what matters. And I can do it, but that level of access isn’t easy.” He leans back a bit as he says a bit softer, “Or cheap… And if you’re wanting me to break into one of those things, it’s going to take far more than just access to the city.”

He sits back and looks at the stallion, stern faced and serious toned. “The Ministry of Wartime Technology was especially one of the problematic ones. Depends on the level of secrecy they wanted, and how high they valued the secrecy of their information over the value of the data itself. They may have protocols in place that will, quite literally, destroy the equipment.” He waves his hooves around. “If it’s high enough and I’m not careful, the entire place could explode around me… I’m not risking myself like that just to have the privilege of trading in town… that ain’t 10 caps worth of work.”

He intentionally leaves out that part of his concern has to do with the side purposes of ‘Distribution Management’ centers. True, they’d mainly been set up as places for locals to go and get aid with their projects, and start the ball rolling, or pick up materials for approved projects. But they were far from the only ministry that used the infrastructure Apple Jack had built to their advantage. Others, he knows for a fact, used the mass volume in transit to screen their own activities. Activities that those unfortunate enough to discover them might not live long afterwards. Unless memory modification was an option. Which it wasn’t always.

Breaker Bar nods and sits down as he brushes a hoof through his mane with a sigh. “I’ve heard of that before. And, I’d agree, I wouldn’t risk my life just for 10 caps either… I ain’t got a lot of money, but we got scrap we might be able to trade.” He leans in and mimics Gearing’s grin as he says, “And I’m just sure a Stable-Tec employee of your caliber could make all kinds of profit from the gizmos you could fix or make with it.”

Gearing pulls out his lists and shows them to the mechanic. “I do need quite a lot of components, so you’re definitely talking my language. But what would you be willing to give me for this?”

The mechanic stands up and smiles. “The M.W.T. bunker is down below. You get us in the system… well… you can have whatever else you want out of there that isn’t part of the systems we need.”

Gearing debates on it for a moment. He’s sure there’s a lot of things in there that could be useful. But there could also be a lot of things on site that, should he give them access, might spell disaster. His typical salesbuck’s grin pops up on his face as he decides on a plan of action that could solve all of his problems.

For the most part.

Gearing stands up as he says, “Well. Before I can really say I’ll take the job... Let me have a look at it. Only a fool would agree to a blind check like that with this much on the line. This thing could be rigged to blow at a stiff wind, in which case I’ll have to decline.”

Breaker stands up and leads the way through the small maze as he says, “Sounds reasonable to me, this way.”

The concrete steps down are quite a bit longer than most would be willing to transverse just for a potential job, but, given the circumstances, the stairs had to go deep enough for the bunker to be effective. And, judging by the internal structure, they had. Though they managed to avoid the test versus a direct balefire strike. Most of the bunker had been converted to space and storage, with other equipment and supplies removed along the line. The room that still bore the sign ‘archives’ above the missing door’s door frame had been converted into bunk space at some point. The records most likely falling victim to the need for kindling. However, in the deepest stretches of it was the control room and other equipment that was safe and undisturbed behind a set of thick metal security gates, doors, and bars.

All of which Breaker Bar is able to get through with a set of keys he produces from his coveralls.

Once down in the control room that had been abandoned for a long time, probably since before the war came to it’s horrendous ending, Gearing begins cautiously looking around for signs of trespass deterrents and other nasty surprises. Whoever had been in here before, had at least knew enough not to mess with anything. Which is a good sign as far as Gearing is concerned.

The maintenance head says from the door, unwilling to enter, “We’ve kept this place locked up to keep anypony from screwing it up. I hope you’re the right one for the job.”

Gearing carefully checks the equipment out and notices a few familiar markings. He checks the systems for points of connection, and finds that the terminals not only seem to be in fully working order, but aren’t actively hostile. He looks over his shoulder at the older stallion in the door and says, “Okay, I’m pretty sure I can actually get working on this without too much of a problem. But I’d really prefer not to have somepony hovering over my shoulder. This is going to be delicate enough work without someone startling me or making me screw up.”

Breaker Bar turns to leave as he’s shutting the door. “No problem there, I got enough problems dealing with the yayhoos upstairs. Come find me if you make any progress with it.”

Gearing continues fiddling with the terminal until the stallion is well out of ear shot. There’s no way he’s going to give them blind access. That could be disastrous. Maybe even hidden weapons that could be used against him. The potential for going back on their deal is very high if that were the case, and the repercussions could be horrible.

He also has a major nagging feeling in his gut. He’s already given up on the thought that this is some kind of magically induced trickery to get him to give away secrets. Hell, if anyone was going to pump him for information, it’d be Sable. But her only interest has been in the actual act of pumping, with practically everything leading to and from that.

Like a sexual Ouroboros.

Though, despite accepting his new reality. The world as a whole. He still has reservations about this. On one hoof it feels like a betrayal. He’s using the very knowledge that they had given him, and trusted him with, to stab them in the back by breaking into their equipment for his own profit. On the other hoof he took his oath to defend Equestria from enemies, both foreign and domestic, and to work towards the betterment of all Equestria very seriously. And there might be something in this old system that would do exactly that. Which would morally absolve him if true.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He realizes it’d be better to find out what’s actually in here before continuing with this moral dilemma. It’s impossible to do an accurate risk assessment, when he doesn’t have a good picture of what the stakes are.

Gearing begins his first task with earnest by plugging his PipBuck directly into a terminal port. He can’t help but grin knowing that the very credentials he showed off not long ago will help allow him to entirely bypass most of the security that would have kept most of these ponies out. Especially when his other credentials are factored in. He hopes that his access wasn’t cut out while he was in stasis. It’s a common security protocol to terminate credentials if someone is presumed dead. Keeps someone else from using them. His credentials worked in the stable, but that doesn’t mean the same luck applies to his M.W.T. accounts. They were notorious for being sticklers for access control.

As the system switches over to administration mode, Gearing can’t help but grin as he comments, “Guess they were too busy with the world ending to keep track of one missing stallion…”

The next moment gives Gearing a surprise as the system begins talking to him through the terminal’s speaker, “Good afternoon, Gearing. You’re credentials are now logged into this terminal. Warning. Technician Gearing has not logged into the system in error_max_days exceeded Days. Records indicate the absence was not approved by a supervisor. Technician Gearing must report to the head of Ministry of Wartime Technology for debriefing or risk termination and loss of access privileges, which may hamper work efficiency.”

Gearing sighs and shakes his head as he realizes that not even the end of the world could put a stop to bureaucracy. “Yes. My absence was unavoidable. I intend on making contact as soon as possible.” He pauses a moment then narrows his eyes at the screen as he articulates clearly, “Gearing: On Task.”

There’s a quick code of beeps before it continues, “That would be for the best, Technician Gearing.”

Gearing wonders how much of this system he can get around in without it locking him out. In the hope to buy himself more time he asks, “Who would I need to contact to maintain my status and update my records?”

“You’re direct supervisor is the head of M.W.T., Hammer Head.”

Gearing tilts his head to the side and half squints an eye. “Terminal. It has been over two hundred years since I was at headquarters. Please confirm you have the correct current head of M.W.T..”

“Confirmed.”

Gearing looks at the console and wonders if it’s been simply looking at its own database as it’s obviously been disconnected from the entire network. “And where is he currently?”

“Current location of Head of M.W.T. is: M.W.T. central office, previously known as secondary subhub of Manehattan branch.”

Gearing’s eyes narrow as he asks the next question, “Confirm or deny… Are these records from live feeds?”

“Confirmed.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he nearly flops down on his flank in shock. The system would know if it was going from its own database, if that were the case. It would say so. Which leads him to ask, “What are the current life readings at the M.W.T. central office.”

“Life readings as of now are: Minimal.”

This causes a lot of anxiety for Gearing. He knows the name, but not in relation to any of the ministries. Only as a high ranking administrator in Stable-Tec. So something’s not adding up. Worse, live connections work both ways. If anyone’s alive there, they are well aware his credentials have been used to access the local system. He knows how deep in bed Stable-Tec and the Ministry of Wartime Technology had been prewar.

Hell, the leads for both were family! The little blue pegasus in his head screams as it zips around in alarm.

If they backed their actions, they have a lot of malice planned for him. But, then again, they didn’t deactivate his credentials… so maybe Stable-Tec didn’t tell them and they just assumed he went missing while on assignment. He still has a hard time believing that the head of either organization would have known, let alone sanctioned, what had happened to him. It just wasn’t in that family’s character. He knows full well that Apple Jack’s ministry had more than a couple snakes hiding among the decent ponies. A few even tried to have her killed.

The fact that his old Stable-Tec boss’s boss’s boss is still alive is another problem. There were ways of preserving life. He’s proof of that. Cryofreezing. Various arcano-technology. Robobrains.

Ghouls.

Ghouls were another answer… but the system would read those as fully healthy life signs. Wouldn’t they? The little pegasus in his head points out. Gearing is perturbed beyond anything he thought he’d be dealing with since walking out of the stable.

He digs around for various information in the system and finds… very little. After various attempts he asks the system, “I’m aware my current clearance is not the highest grade. There are many more above my pay grade. However, as the only Ministry of Wartime Technology agent on site I must invoke the following request for security reasons: Are there any sensitive files on this system that I do not currently have the clearance to access. Note: I am not asking for access, merely to know the clearance rating of this collection of data drives.”

“Confirmed,” the voice says flatly.

“Understood… Given that. Please confirm or deny, unauthorized access to the data drives may trigger security protocols to prevent access.”

“Confirmed.”

“Please define protocol of highest response capable at this installation.”

“Flash burn: Should this protocol be enacted, a gas will be released inside and around the surrounding area, then ignited. The resulting flash fire would destroy all organic matter in an instant as the temperatures reach over 3,000 degrees. Equipment, installation, and surrounding area would be completely destroyed by the subsequent explosion.”

Gearing rubs his face into the back of his free foreleg. “Damn it, why do I have to be so good and so right all of the time?”

“Error: Query matches no known results. Please rephrase.”

Gearing shakes his head. “Please list all information I may access with my current credentials.”

The screen fills up with a variety of information on it neatly organized in various hierarchies then begins looping the headings on his screen.

“Confirm or deny, will any of these results trigger the highest grade response if they are accessed by somecreature without at least my level of clearance?”

“Denied.”

“Will any trigger a potential hazard if accessed by those without proper access?”

“Confirmed: One possibility.”

“Define.”

“This terminal controls the local civil defense system. Should unauthorized individuals gain access to it they would have the power to turn the weapon systems on the occupants.”

“Well, that would be problematic…” Gearing snorts.

“Confirmed.”

“Am I able to create sub user accounts on the local system such that they would have a clearance level below mine, but have access to the information that I’m able to see and choose for them to have access?”

“The civil defense system allows you, as a Ministry of Wartime Technology agent, to appoint two users so that should one perish, the other may still control and defend the city.”

Gearing nods and smiles as he realizes he just found one hell of a bargaining chip. “Understood.” He decides not to waste a perfectly good live connection, and uses the system’s terminal to start accessing the remote database’s files. He keeps looking over his shoulder and rotating his ears to listen around himself as he performs this bit of unauthorized data retrieval. If nothing else comes from this deal, he’s going to get some answers. Ones he really won’t want to know, but needs to know to figure out what to do next. He bulk downloads what reports are available to him, since the point he’d disappeared, and takes extra care to make sure to grab the precious few that had been made around and shortly after the bombs fell. He needs to know what happened. For his own sanity if nothing else. There will be plenty of time to go over it all later. After he finishes transferring the files to his PipBuck, he snoops through the local system some more, carefully going through the files to see if there’s any dirty secrets or other problems that he doesn’t want them to have access to. During his spelunking, he comes across a list of stables in the area. Inside he finds a reference to Stable 68, and he gets a cold chill as he realizes the implications. He opens the file and quickly finds… absolutely everything anyone would need to knock on the stable’s front door. Exact location, coordinates, and even explains how it’s under the service station.

He can’t let this get out, for a variety of reasons.

He quickly alters the file in as an official and specific manner as he can with excruciating details like he was required to do with all of his after action reports. He explains that he discovered the stable completely destroyed. That somewhere along the line the stable had been afflicted by an unknown pathogen that drove the occupants mad. He explains how he discovered, later, that the disease in question was most likely currently referred to as ‘Raider Disease’ as all the evidence he was able to scrape together had to do with the ponies turning cannibalistic. He goes into details about how the reactor had, due to lack of living occupants to maintain it, blew. What wasn’t completely destroyed, was tainted with radiation, and biohazards. He even surmises that the only reason he survived the encounter at all was that his body renders him immune to such hazards. But there were even dangers for him. He recommends marking the stable as a total loss, off limits, and giving the entire area a wide and respectable distance. The escaped radiation had tainted the surrounding area and there was a variety of vicious deadly creatures in it’s immediate vicinity. He signs it as himself, with his full title, and updates the file.

After performing this bit of forgery, he duplicates the file. One copy he moves to a different area within the computer. The other he sabotages the log function, making sure that the file will never be updated and corrected by the M.W.T. via a remote auto-update function. Any changes they perform will be applied to the original file that he stowed away in a different subfolder. In this way, they might discover his subterfuge, but even if they change it back, they won’t know the other file, the ‘public’ file, is still doctored.

Next he sets the security level of it to the highest he possibly can and encrypts it. Once that’s finished, he makes sure it stays hidden unless a person has at least his clearance level. Not including people with exceptional skill in bypassing the security, that’s another monster entirely. He knows how to do that. He could even try that as well here himself. But in a risk reward analysis, he deems this scale is permanently tilted in the ‘fuck that’ category. He realizes that anyone with a higher clearance would be able to find it with little trouble, but, then again, they’d probably already know about it anyway. His goal is to keep any new threats from forming.

Gearing wraps up by creating the two accounts and giving them access that’s just below his own. He’ll always have a backdoor that way. Regardless of what anyone in Megamac says and tries. It’s a nice insurance policy. Then, after making sure the new accounts can’t see the information on Stable 68, he logs out of the system and trots off upstairs happily.

He is a bit confused, and more than a little wary, as he opens the door to the main floor. The room’s quiet. Practically dead. The only noise is the hum of some of the equipment that’s still functioning despite what somepony’s done to the poor things. But there’s not a soul in sight. He’ll be damned if he’s going to go through all of this and not get his pay. He needs that equipment. So he heads off in search of the head repairpony, Breaker Bar.

Footnote: Internal component 02 not responding. . .

Internal component 03 not responding. . .

Internal component 04 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter marks the first real point of contention I had with the timeline that I'd mentioned previously. But, over all, things are working out pretty well, and I think it's sorted out, for the most part. New characters and mysteries unveiled, along with some more commonly known being referenced. Finally starting to get into the 'weaving into the background' parts of the story I've been wanting to for so long.

Again thanks to everyone that's helped me out with all of this along the way. And especially to Kkat and Somber for their amazing stories that have inspired this whole train.

As always, comments, questions, and critiques welcome and encouraged!

-Quillsy

20 Center of Attention

Once outside The Ministry of Wartime Technology hub it becomes quickly apparent to Gearing where Breaker Bar is, as almost everypony seems to be at the tournament crater watching the fights. And, from the noise, he easily locates it as he wonders: If Luna were still on the moon, would she send a noise complaint about the racket? He catches some air and flies over the crowd to spot the head of maintenance, which he does eventually after circling a few times like a vulture. Although, he has to land quite a distance from him just to have enough space as the crowd is massive. After touching down he squirms his way through the crowd. There’s some push back, but he’s got the mass to make them futile attempts and the few that turn on him with angry looks at what they think is a line cutter kindly oblige as they see that: one, he’s not headed toward the actual center of the ring, and two, he looks like a souped-up protectapony and it’s probably not a good idea to trigger its rules of engagement. Eventually he finds the stallion in question, who’s completely engrossed in the fight taking place in the center of the crater’s ring.

Gearing taps him on the shoulder with a wing as he steps up next to him. “Hey, there you are.”

Breaker Bar turns to look at him and asks, rather loudly as he has to shout over the crowd, “You taking a break to watch the fight, or you giving up alread- Get’em! Yeah! Wow, that filly’s got a mean jab!”

Gearing looks over at the sudden cause of the rise in uproar and see’s Swift delivering another powerful barehoofed blow that sends her opponent staggering back and sideways. “Oh. Yeah. Swift… I wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. You should see what kind of damage she can unleash with a powerhoof.”

The mechanic turns and gives him his undivided attention. “You know her?! She’s been blowing through the competition.”

“Yeah.” Gearing nods. “And she’s about as talented with her hooves in a fight as I am with tinkering with technology.”

Breaker Bar tilts his head and asks as his eyes jump back and forth between the two, “Then why the hell you working for city maintenance?”

Gearing shrugs. “She didn’t want to spend caps to get in. Need them to buy the supplies we want. She’s earning entry by fighting, and I used my own talents to secure entry… Speaking of which… I got some good news… but first… What was the main thing you were looking for in those systems? I’ll tell ya there wasn’t much… but…”

The maintenance head nods as he sighs. “Yeah. I don’t really have a use for most of that junk anyway. It’s a good thing too. Secrets can get dangerous. What I really wanted was access to the hub’s defense grid. That’ll help keep the raiders and other nonsense out. We traced the control lines that far, but we couldn’t get in, so it’s doing us no good at the moment. We could try to dismantle them, and reprogram each from scratch, but, we don’t have the resources for that either.” He lets out a sigh and grumbles, “Not to mention in doing so we might accidentally trigger the grid to see us as hostile.

Gearing sits back and strikes his patented glorious bastard glittery high-winged pose before he points at the stallion with both front hooves, and his wings. “Then I actually have some amazing news for you…”

Breaker’s eyes go wide as he asks with hope, but a hint of disbelief, “You got in?”

Gearing winks at him and gives him a shiny grin as he leans toward him. “I got in.” He looks around and nods back towards the Ministry of Wartime Technology building. “We need to talk. Privately.”

The head of maintenance nods and quickly follows Gearing back to the maintenance hub. It doesn’t take Gearing long to find out the place is deserted. The popularity of the tournament’s unquestionable. Unlike the highly suspect work ethic of those who were supposed to be working but decided to cut out the moment the boss left.

Gearing spins around and flops his rear on the floor with a loud clang. “Alright. I told you I was good. And I’m ready to deliver. I’ve set up two accounts for you to control the area’s defense grid with. But, before I turn them over, there’s something we need to discuss.”

Breaker Bar frowns as he fully expects to have to pay even more than agreed on, now that Gearing has all the cards. “Uh huh, and what’s that?”

Gearing motions towards the access to the control bunker. “Remember how I said I wanted more pay because this entire place could blow up around me if I screwed up?”

The maintenance pony sits down and nods. “Yup.”

Gearing sits and stares at him with stoic seriousness. “Turns out, I was right. Now. I managed to get around it. And you’ll have access to the defense system like you want. But, you can’t mess around with anything else. I did a lot of digging around, and there’s nothing else you’d find useful. However, the place is rigged to blow. The entire town… okay? So, and this part is non-negotiable, or I walk out of here right now… you stay out of the rest of the systems. Don’t mess with them. Firstly, there’s nothing worth dealing with in the first place. So it ain’t worth the risk. Secondly… if you do, this whole town will go kerblewy… and I’m not helping you kill all these ponies… understood?”

Breaker half closes an eye as he examines Gearing’s face, hoping he’s able to read it correctly. “That’s all we want. Just to be able to defend ourselves better. We won’t mess with it beyond that.”

“Good.” Gearing nods with emphasis. “Then I’ll set up the accounts for you. Now… about my pay… you said I could have whatever I wanted… right?”

The maintenance pony’s ears flop down as he cringes. “Yes… that was the agreement.”

Gearing grins a shiny toothy grin. “Great! So… How about I get the rest of the equipment down there? Just the things that won’t interfere with the operation of the defense grid and nothing that’ll make the system go balefire on us. You get your defense grid up and running in a smooth way, and there’s less stuff that could go wrong. Less things for these ‘workers’ of yours to screw around with and accidentally initiate self-destruct with.”

The older buck frowns as he realizes he doesn’t have much of a choice, and doesn’t want to go back on his word either. Though, he silently realizes, the mechanical repairpony has a point about removing potential future headaches. “You got yourself a deal.”

Gearing raises a hoof high in the air. “Great!” He lowers it as he leans in and grins. “I’ve also been in need of some good tools … That’s under your authority too, right?”

The maintenance pony grumbles as he says, “Yeeaahh sheesh… fine.”

Gearing hops up and starts off towards the control bunker. “Great. Meet me downstairs with the tools, and I’ll get your accounts set up then use the tools to carefully take whatever I need out.”

Breaker Bar goes to his personal stash of tools. As a craftsbuck, good tools are a life blood. Not just something to be used. They are an idol. A symbol of their dedication to their craft. For Gearing to be as explicit as he has been, well he must be a craftsbuck of some repute, Breaker decides. His skills are undeniable. And, it would be a shame to force an artisan to improvise. No. His skills deserve to have tools that reflect that, so the tan maintenance pony doesn’t mind as much knowing that they will not only be put to good use, but well taken care of as well.

He heads downstairs with the tools in question, and passes them over, expecting even more demands. Instead he’s greeted with a pleasant surprise. Gearing already had everything set up for the account, and just needed Breaker Bar there for personal information and finishing setting up his login credentials.

Gearing reminds him as he begins taking panels off of the equipment, “Remember, I wasn’t kidding about not screwing around with the rest of the stuff down here. Don’t make me regret this by getting everypony killed.”

Breaker Bar shakes his head. “I’m a stallion of my word. Don’t worry. This place will be sealed off even more once you’re done getting everything you need… How long you think it’ll take you?”

Gearing shakes his head. “I don’t know. There’s a lot down here and I have to be very careful not to damage it and not to set off anything. Lots of back tracing and double checking. But, I’ll get it done as soon as I can.”

The tan stallion goes to the door and heads back upstairs as he comments, “Take your time. No rush. Now that we don’t have to worry about not being able to fend off the next raider attack once the Reapers leave, we’ll be able to rest easier. If you have time, stop by the tournament if it’s still going on.”

Gearing has his front half in a machine and waves the pony away dismissively. “I’ve got too much work to do to mess with that nonsense. You go have fun. I’m sure I’ll hear about it later anyway.” A few moments later Gearing switches on a recording of the song that M.o.M. had been playing and starts bopping to the music as he works. He spends the rest of the day, and the entire night, working in the bowels of the maintenance bunker, growing his pile of loot and happily thinking about what he plans to do with all of it. Realizing that his location is known, and he’s easy for them to find or contact, he gets his head so full of work that he doesn’t even have the presence of mind to wonder where Swift is, what she’s up to, and how she’s doing.

For, how Swift is doing, is rough. And what she’s up to this entire time, defies logic. As she’s been having her own little adventure in Megamac.

* * *

After they had entered the town, and split up, Swift went straight towards the fight circle as Pharynx trotted along behind her with his head whipping every which way taking in the sights. She wanted to size up her competition, and try to figure out a strategy. She was excited, even though her powerhoof had been forbidden from being used. This probably isn’t the most common of responses somepony would have with the possibility of jail time hanging over their head should she fail. Even less so with the revelation that she has to beat out thirty one other ponies to achieve her goal. But, this is where she stands. When she gets to the crater, there is already a large crowd. Most of them seem to be locals and regulars at it. Probably just looking for an excuse to fight and blow off some steam. Other’s are truly hoping for the grand prize. Then there are the ones that look like they enjoy nothing more than a good fight. The ponies mingling around and waiting for the tournament to start range in size and age. One stallion is massive and looks to be extremely strong. Of the eating steel beams and spitting nails variety. Someone for her to watch out for, but not the only one. In the group there’s also the tell tale signs of veteran fighters. Ones that are calm. Abnormally calm. Especially the ones that look small and lanky. Swift learned long ago not to judge someone’s destructive power by their size.

Swift’s excitement gets the better of her and she yells out loud, attracting everypony’s attention, “Alright everypony! Who’s this champion I keep hearing about?”

There’s a few chuckles and someone in the crowd yells back, “They ain’t told us.”

Swift looks around at the group and snorts, “You mean to tell me nopony can tell me who’s the reigning champ? Not even who won the last tournament?”

An older stallion walks out of the group and says to her, “That’d a be me, lil lady.”

Swift looks at the stallion and her eyes trail over his form. He’s older than should be allowed, and looks as rickety as any of the other ancient relics in the wastes of Equestria. Especially the burnt out building varieties. He almost looks like a stiff breeze would knock him over, if not kill him out right. However, despite where he’s standing and who’s around him, he seems as comfortable as if he were on his porch enjoying a cold cider.

Swift looks around and asks, “Is this true?”

The stallion nods. “Ayup. That’s me.”

No one else gives any clue one way or the other. So Swift decides to go ahead and take his word for it. For now. After all, she’ll find out one way or the other just how much spunk this old timer has left in him. She offers her hoof towards him as she says, “My name’s Swift. What’s yours?”

The stallion puts his hoof out shakily as he says, “Big Daddy.”

Swift pulls back her hoof a bit as she cringes at the name. “I’m sorry. There’s no way I can call you that.”

“Welp. It’s mah name.”

“Anything else I can call ya? How about Big?”

“Daddy’s my name.”

“I- I just can’t. No way. Big D?”

“Guess that’ll be good enough for now.”

Swift nods and taps hooves with him. “Good to meet you Big D. So, you’re the strongest one here, huh?”

“Ayup.”

Swift nods as she grins. “Well, if that’s the case, see you in the finals then. Assuming we don’t meet sooner. I intend to win.”

“Ayup. I plan on winning too. I won’t hold back little filly.”

Swift grins even wider. “I’d hope you wouldn’t.”

A few moments later the tournament gets started and Swift gets paired up with someone she’s certain falls into the category of ‘local that just wants to blow off steam’. The relatively young stallion bobs around as he jabs at the air and hops around. She sits down on her rear, watching him shadow box in front of her and trying to look intimidating.

After a while of dancing around her he jumps at her with a wide swung right hoof as he screams with all his might.

Swift barely moves as she simply throws her right hoof straight into the stallion’s nose with a skilled jab, while still seated. The stallion’s swing goes limp as blood spurts out of both of his nostrils and his head flies back comically. He staggers and wobbles backwards and sideways as his head seems to meander at the end of his neck unable to right itself. After a few more off balanced side steps, he trips over his own hooves and falls down and to the side, not to get up.

Swift keeps her eyes on him for a few more seconds then directs her eyes towards the announcer. “Sooooo is that it? Or…?”

There’s a roar of laughter, from both the crowd and other hopefuls, as the fight is so one sided. Even more so from the contestants as this stallion had been one of the ones with the bigger mouths shooting off about how they were going to destroy everyone else and take the money easily.

The announcer makes the call and Swift gets up and slowly heads towards the exit as she mutters, “Damn. And here I was hoping for a challenge… Here’s hoping the rest of them aren’t just a bunch of loud mouths and somepony knows what they’re talking about here.”

The rest of the tournament, up until the very final match, goes by rather quickly. A few of the matches are drawn out a bit as the contestants both seem to be veterans and enjoy putting on the show for the audience. But, in the very end, it wasn’t the old stallion that Swift meets in the final match. A few of her opponents had some skill, but still couldn’t keep her hooves from pummeling them into submission in relatively short order. She was still left wanting a real challenge, and was getting disappointed winning the pot so easily. The final act turned out to be something entirely different. And much more to her liking.

Swift stands in the center of the ring, trying to run through her head on all of the fights she’d seen, and who could possibly be left. But she wasn’t prepared for who stepped into the ring from the opposing side.

With a roar from the crowd, and more than a bit of fanfare, the brown earth pony guard from the front gate parts from his friend with the glowing eyes. And her very sponsor for this fight strolls in to meet her as the older buck with the sunglasses watches with a grin.

Swift stares daggers at him and asks with disgust in her voice, “Oh, seriously? What, you didn’t like the thought of me winning so now you’re going to cheat?!”

The stallion grins at her. “There ain’t no cheating, sweetheart. I am the final round. Even if it weren’t you standing here, I’d still be fighting in this round.”

Swift snorts. “Uh huh. I bet.” She stands up straight and grins at him as she grinds her hoof into the ground. “I’m not throwing the match and I’m not holding back. I told you I would win, and if it’s your flesh standing between me and the prize money… Well… You’ve already been warned, so it’s your fault for agreeing to this.”

The stallion starts stretching as he grins back. Without his armor she can see his muscles plainly rippling through-out his body under his pelt. “I ain’t gonna hold back either, filly. I’ve been watching you and, I gotta say, I’m looking forward to this match. Been a while since somepony even looked like they knew what they were doing in here… You want that prize money, you gotta get through me. Come and get it!”

Swift charges at him as she screams with glee in her eyes, “Gladly!”

Hooves, sweat, and blood fly in the middle of the arena as the two duke it out. The crowd is mesmerized, but, even though they aren’t actively fighting, their own stamina doesn’t let most of them stay with the fight. It’s just exhausting to watch.

Some are surprised to learn that, even after leaving, going home, sleeping, and coming back, that the fight is still raging on.

The fight continues over night, with lights and lamps being lit up to illuminate the crater center, and into the next day. Nonstop. As neither one yields and it seems that the audience is viewing some ancient legend. By the middle of the next day, cheering had nearly been all but eliminated, and the audience’s only sounds were from various accounts of surprise or sympathy at the blows. After they had been fighting for over a day, and the day was already coming to a close, both of them were battered and bruised but started squaring off for another round of blows.

The brown buck takes in a deep breath and looks around at the crowd as they circle each other.

The excitement of the tournament was gone. What he was greeted with now, wasn’t the cheering of fans, but faces of complete disbelief. Like they were all watching a train wreck they were powerless to stop. In short: it just wasn’t as fun for anypony anymore. This had dragged on way too long for that. He turns around and starts walking towards the edge of the arena. And then whispers to the announcer over the fence.

Swift looks around with her eyes wild wondering what form of trickery and underhoofedness he was going to play this time. As the gate on the side opens, and a few ponies step in, Swift yells, “This is one on one, if calling in goons to help you ain’t cheating than what is?!”

The guard looks over his shoulder at her and rolls his eyes, “The fights over, filly.”

Swift grinds her hoofs into the ground and feels getting fueled by an even larger burning of rage as she prepares to charge the newcomers. “No it’s not. I haven’t given up. I still wanna fight!”

The brown buck starts laughing then heads to ,and out, the gate entrance. “Yeah? Well, I don’t want to. I got too much to do around here. So, enjoy the win.”

Swift’s eyes go wide in surprise as she asks in a tone that sounds more like a belch than intentional communication, “Wha?”

A pair of assistant ponies come in with water and a medical kit as the announcer comes into the middle of the ring. “Fillies and gentlecolts, we have a winner and new champion! Give it up fooor Swiiiiiiiift!” he bellows into an old beat up metal megaphone.

The crowd absolutely loses its mind cheering. They scream with more gusto than they had even during the beginning of the tournament. This is the kind of excitement that only comes about from something truly new being presented. Their champion was no push over. And, while she didn’t manage to knock him out she did manage to fight him to a standstill, and make him concede defeat. Even if it was only because he had someplace else to be.

It was a war of attrition, against an unseen clock, and she won.

She’s completely bewildered and the next few hours pass by in a fog as she’s tended to and various ponies congratulate her on her feat. She’s earned a level of respect in the town that couldn’t even be bought. But she’s not exactly sure how to feel about it.

She walks around doing a bit of shopping with her winnings, picking up a bit of tool polish for Handy and a few other niceties for the kids. She can’t help but wonder how things are going to go. On one hoof, she likes being acknowledged for her skill. But, post excitement and adrenaline rush, she becomes very aware that becoming famous can be dangerous. Especially with the Institute after them. She also becomes aware of something else that starts instantly bugging her.

Where the hell is Gearing, and why hasn’t he checked up on her?

* * *

Gearing, being the workaholic who has the decided advantage of not needing sleep like regular ponies, never took a break during the entire time Swift was fighting. As he’s carefully setting down the very last piece of equipment he could get away with removing, he has a realization. He looks at the pile he’s accumulated and wonders how in the world he’s going to manage to get all this back to Stable 68. As he’s deep in thought he feels a looming presence grow behind him.

He hops away and jerks in such a way to spin and crouches down to look behind himself to see who this potential adversary could be. His first thoughts are of a double cross, or maybe someone trying to steal his hard earned loot from him. After all. With his skill the equipment has come out in pristine shape and would be exceedingly valuable to even the most common pleb.

He looks up.

And up.

And up some more.

There, not far away, is a massive red unicorn. It’s got to be the biggest stallion he’s ever seen. Probably right in line with Big Macintosh himself. He always thought those descriptions were a joke. An exaggeration. But, what’s staring down at him now is no joke. He curses to himself for not bringing some poison darts as he realizes in a head on physical altercation this stallion could possibly trounce him into the ground. Gearing blinks a few times to try and clear away some confusion.

No, that’s not true. Why would I think that? Gearing ponders as even the little blue pegasus in his head shrugs in confusion.

The disheartening thought accompanies him on the journey up the stallion’s face, and to the horn on their head.

Gearing stares at it a moment, then brings his eyes back down and asks, with only the slightest bit of hope in his ticking heart, “Pharynx?”

The stallion nods and says, “Yup.”

Gearing flops down on his rear in relief. “Well…” He looks Pharynx over again and comments, “Milks done a body good, I see. You don’t stop growing and you’ll end up being as big as a mountain.”

Pharynx shakes his head hard. “Well, I wouldn’t want that…” He looks over the massive pile of equipment Gearing’s accumulated as he tilts his head. “What’s all this?”

Gearing turns around and says with a sheepish grin,“Well… I did some haggling and I think I may have gotten a bit more than I can carry.” He looks at Pharynx and asks, “Mind giving a lil’ ole clockwork a hoof with all this?”

Pharynx tilts his head. “I can haul a lot, but I can’t fit all that in my saddle bags.”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes with one hoof then raises the other as he says with a self annoyed sigh, “Wait here a minute, I’ll be right back.”

He tracks down the head maintenance pony and practically begins begging as a conversation starter. Breaker Bar is amused, but doesn’t want to cough up any more than he’s already given to Gearing. So he asks with a sigh, “What do you want now?”

Gearing puts his hooves together as he pleads, “I need to get all that junk back to my workshop… but… It’s not exactly going to stow neatly in my saddle bags. Not even with my friends helping… you got a cart I could borrow… I promise to bring it back, and I’ll even give it a Gearing Grade overhaul while I’m at it as thank you!”

The maintenance pony laughs and leads him to the back loading dock. He kicks backwards with his back right hoof on a box made of scrap. “Here ya go… it’s a bit rough looking, but it’ll do ya.”

Gearing bows his head and puts his front hooves together as high as they can go. “Thank you so much! I’ll return it in even better shape than I got it!”

Breaker Bar goes back to work as he brushes it off. “Well it’s just cobbled together anyway. So even if you don’t it’s not a real loss.”

Gearing gives it a quick once over, and fixes a few problems with the wheels that might make it stick along the way. Which would be a big problem if they got on the road and suddenly had to run. He takes the cart, heads back to Pharynx, and shows off their new wheels.

The two fit as much as they can in their respective bags, mainly smaller and more sensitive components, then load up the cart with everything else. This part goes by far faster, and Gearing can’t help but just sigh and get out of the way, as everything gets coated in Pharynx’s red magical aura and just floats itself in rapid succession into the wagon in a nice neat arrangement.

Magic. Gearing likes his wings but, at times like this, he can’t help but being at least a little jealous of the horny bastards.

As Gearing is admiring the horde in the back of the cart, and realizing he actually could fit some more into it, he sticks an item he’d left for dead last into his saddle bag. He didn’t want to risk the particularly valuable circuit board getting damaged with all the hustle and bustle, so it’s only now that he finally packs it up. Though, as he’s headed to the front to hook himself up to his cart of loot, he finds that Pharynx has already helped himself to the harness and has hooked up to the cart.

Gearing looks it all over then up at Pharynx. “You sure, big guy? I wasn’t expecting you to do it yourself. I was going to pull it. It’s mostly my crap anyway.”

Pharynx nods. “Yup. No problem. I can pull way more than this.”

Gearing laughs and looks back at the maintenance center before turning back to Pharynx. “Even if there was anything else I could take out of there, I wouldn’t feel safe hauling that much at once… this is probably a mistake as it is. Bigger haul means bigger target.”

As the two start meandering towards the front gate to park the cart, Gearing asks, “Have you seen Swift? I’ve had my head buried in wires and circuitry for days it seems.”

Pharynx replies with a shake of his head. “It has been days. I don’t know how you could keep at it like that. You and Swift both. It’s crazy. I’ll bet if we ask the guards at the gate, they’ll know where she is. Whole town’s talking about her fight.”

* * *

After her small shopping trip, Swift decides she’ll drop by the front gate guard post before heading off to look for Gearing. She’s a little miffed that he hasn’t seen fit to at least check on her. The fact she can take care of herself is entirely besides the point. She hasn’t known him long, and isn’t sure she can completely trust him yet. And this lack of concern for her well-being isn’t helping his case. Not to mention the lack of decency of letting her know he’s okay.

Just before she gets to the guard outpost by the front gate, she’s halted by someone calling her name.

She looks at the side street and sees the older glowing eyed guard from before leaning up against the wall next to his younger brown friend. “Leaving already?” he asks as he tilts his glasses down to look at her with his luminescent eyes.

She walks over, opens her bag, and pulls out a small sack of caps. She drops it at the hooves of the brown guardspony and says with a grin as she looks at him, “Was looking for you actually. Half the pot, 500 caps, as agreed.”

The brown stallion scoops it up and tosses them in the air a bit to feel the weight. “Real nice of you to keep up your end of the bargain. Saves me from having to track you down.”

Swift eyes him for a moment before asking, “Who are you? Really? You’re not just some guard. You fight too good for that…” She directs her eyes towards the glowing eyed buck. “And what do you want? Running into you here isn’t a coincidence, I’m sure.”

The brown stallion grins and starts heading down the street as he says, “I’m not the one you need to be talking to right now.” He glances at the glowing eyed older stallion and says with a sigh, “I’ll leave you two to it.” Then he quickly heads back towards the center of town.

The glowing eyed stallion steps away from the wall as he motions towards Swift with a hoof. “You can call me Big Daddy.”

Swift’s face grimaces. “That old geezer stallion?”

Big Daddy waves a hoof towards the arena. “You mean the glue spot? No, he was just some crazy bastard. I’m the real Big Daddy.”

Swift frowns heavily. “Well, you’re going to have to think of something else for me to call you, cuz I ain’t calling you that.”

Big Daddy leans towards her and tilts his head. “Why not?”

Swift practically growls. “It’s demeaning. I refuse.”

Big Daddy chuckles. “Well, it’s my name… but call me Big if you have to.”

Swift nods, feeling far more comfortable with that. “Big. Sure. So… what do you want with me?”

Big Daddy points towards her. “You’re one hell of a fighter… How’d you feel about joining the Reapers?”

Swift tilts her head. “Who’s the Reapers?”

Big Daddy points towards himself, then off towards the vague direction of Hoofington. “We’re the Reapers. Baddest group of fighters around. We’ve got a pretty nice spot in the Hoofington Arena.”

Swift frowns and half closes her eyes as she stares at him. “What kind of gang are you? Are you good ponies or bad?”

Bid Daddy waves a hoof around. “Matter of perspective.”

Swift tilts her head. “Fine then… What do you all do and I’ll figure it out for myself.”

“Keep things in check and make sure anyone that fucks with the system or us gets what’s coming to them.”

“And who do you go after?”

“Other gangs that get too big for their boots. Raiders… cull their numbers every now and then... those crazy Steel Ranger bastards.”

“And what about simple traders that are just trying to get by?”

Big Daddy shrugs. “As long as they don’t fuck with us or cause any problems we don’t bother them, generally.”

Swift still isn’t sure, but it has some possibilities. “And what would my duties entail, if I agreed?”

Big Daddy points at her. “Well, you can pretty much do what you want, as long as you come when you’re called if we’re having a problem and someone needs dealt with… help out your fellow Reaper if they need it... You’ll also need to return to defend your place. Beyond that, you can be your own pony.”

Swift tilts her head. “And what if I can’t make it for whatever reason?”

Big Daddy shrugs. “There’s always room for extenuating circumstances, but don’t make a habit out of it.”

Swift looks down at the ground as she thinks about it. The prospect of having some good fights is very tempting. And if Big Daddy’s their leader, they must have some decent fighters among them… And anyone that can give them problems, has got to be a good fighter as well. She looks up as she says point blank, “I’ll have to think about it.”

Big Daddy motions towards the gate. “Well, come to the Hoofington Arena when you decide… If you change your mind sooner, there’s a local area where wannabes try their hoof at becoming a Reaper. A preliminary of sorts. It’s a bit north of here on the way to Hoofington. It’s in Freight Car gang territory, but they’ll be on their best behavior for the next couple days with us there. After that, you’ll have to deal with the normal wannabe route and fight through a bunch of others at the Arena. I’m not blowing smoke up your tail. You’re good. You also have the right attitude. I could almost guarantee you a place in the top ten from what I’ve seen. You’d still have to earn it though, but you have the potential. It’d be worth it for you to join. But it’s your decision.”

Swift nods then, before she can ask her next question, she sees a large flash of sparkle out of the corner of her eye. She looks in that direction and sees Gearing and Pharynx headed towards the front gate from a different lane. She hops up and starts after them as she says, “I’ll be in touch.”

Big Daddy just waves after her before turning to head down the opposite direction as he re-adjusts his sunglasses. “You do that.”

As Gearing is starting to help Pharynx with the straps to detach him from the cart, Swift runs up and yells, “There you two are! What have you been doing this whole time?!”

Gearing stops and looks at Swift. “Ah! We were just looking for you.” He looks over his shoulder at his horde, then back to Swift as he motions towards it. “Been working off my debt and getting supplies.”

Swift eyes the entire pile and asks in disbelief, “You buy the whole town or something?!”

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, just bartered my skills for spare equipment they didn’t need and we could use. Pharynx here’s helped me load and haul it.”

Swift looks over at Pharynx and asks as she cranes her neck to look up at him. “You’ve gotten bigger… again.”

Pharynx laughs. “So I’ve been told.”

They start to set out and Swift jumps up into the back of the cart. There’s enough space for it and she’s so exhausted that the hard metal and pointy edges feel like a fluffy cloud. As she cozies in she moans, “I’m sooooo exhausted… feel like I’ve been up forever.”

Pharynx doesn’t seem to care at all about the added weight and simply comments, “Well, it has been almost two days since we left.”

Swift nods lightly, before nodding off. “That explains it.” Then she completely falls asleep.

They continue on towards the stable with Gearing in the lead. He looks at Pharynx and comments, “If you need a rest let me know and I’ll take over.”

Pharynx shakes his head. “Nah, I’m pretty fresh. I can take it the whole way.”

Gearing nods and continues taking point, keeping a keen eye out for any opposition. He looks over his shoulder and says to Pharynx as he makes an abnormal turn, “I’m going to take us through an indirect route. Just in case anyone’s following us. Don’t want to lead them home.”

Pharynx nods and continues trotting behind Gearing. “Sure. You just lead the way and I’ll follow along.

Several hours into the walk Gearing starts looking around and his eyes start focusing weirdly. It’s common knowledge, for those that actually know any of them, that, thanks to the curse, clockworks don’t need to breath, eat, or sleep. They can if they wish, but don’t have to. And, since there’s no real benefit to doing so and most things consumed have little to no flavor, most don’t bother unless they are doing so for purely social reasons. To try to at least seem more pony like. To grasp every tiny thread of equinity they can.

What isn’t so commonly known is that sometimes, if a clockwork overexerts themselves, especially mentally, for prolonged periods of time without doing whatever they need to to recuperate, things start getting wonky for them. It’s as if the mental wiring gets crossed and they start acting weird. Atypical even. Or, possibly, the magic that makes up their body, and confines their soul to their metallic prisons, gets overtaxed just keeping them together and strains their mental connection to the world.

Which may help explain why Gearing starts seeing a disembodied unicorn skull floating in the air not far in front of them.

Although, despite being a clockwork, he hasn’t been in this situation very often. Although, and even worse, like most psychosis, the one in the middle of it doesn’t realize what’s really going on anyway. He continues trotting along for a while as he keeps his eyes on the floating pony skull that seems wreathed in magical energy.

Gearing tilts his head while looking at it as he asks, “Hey, Pharynx, is there another of your kind? How many of you floating skulls are out here?”

Pharynx looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Floating skulls? What are you talking about?”

Gearing points at the waving skull in the air in front of himself with a wing as he comes to a stop. “That… That’s how you looked when we found you… though… the rest of your skeleton was there too, so this is a bit different.”

Pharynx looks at the vast empty space in front of Gearing and says with annoyance, “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Is this some kinda joke?”

Gearing blinks a few times and the skull disappears as Pharynx passes him. Gearing quickly whips his head and eyes around as he groans. “Ummm… Crap… Maybe this place is haunted… I’ve heard of that… Those that have violently died coming back to torment the living… and the wasteland’s got to have a few million like that!”

Gearing looks into the back of the cart and sees Swift, sound asleep. But not in a way that would be normal. To his great horror, Swift seems to be burning. She’s completely wreathed in flames and looks like she’s the unfortunate victim of an incendiary grenade as she lays curled up on the pile of goods.

Gearing screams, “Fire! Fire! Stop, Swift’s on fire!” as he takes flight towards the back.

Pharynx is highly alarmed and twists his head back around to look into the back of the cart as he comes to a sudden halt. Gearing bounds up, and jumps onto the back edge of the cart. He starts slapping Swift all over and trying to use his own wings to smother the flames out.

To say that Swift is given a rude awakening, would be putting it kindly. She awakes with a jolt as Gearing half-ponypiles her, then proceeds with, and continues, slapping her all over with both hoof and wing. She’s not the nicest person when she’s first awakened anyway, and getting clopped a thousand times by metal hooves didn’t do anything to help the situation. So, when she sprung up with her powerhoof, catching Gearing full in the jaw and sending him tumbling back off balance on his hindlegs, and off the back of the wagon, it was no surprise at all.

To anyone but Gearing that is.

Gearing picks himself up and shakes his head. He looks at her as he holds his jaw, checking for dents, as he asks, “What was that for?!”

Swift hops up and glares at him practically crouched as she debates pouncing on him. “That’s my line! Why were you attacking me in my sleep, you coward?!” She starts twitching with excitement. She’s slow to trust, and he certainly hasn’t earned hers yet despite all the selfless acts he’s done to help out her and the other members of the stable. He’d definitely been earning points, but this act of barbarism against a defenseless sleeping filly only solidifies her assumption that he’s an unknown variable that needs… checking.

Gearing hops up and points at her with both hooves. “You’re on fire! I was just trying to put you out. How can you not feel that?!” He leans towards her and eyes her quizzically. “Is this one of those balefire mutation things? Like you burst into flames when you’re asleep or something? As a defensive mechanism? You coulda warned me about that instead of making me worry, geeze.”

Swift eases up a bit and look down at herself, then starts looking around. She turns and stares at Pharynx as she asks, “What the hell’s he talking about?”

Pharynx shakes his head for emphasis with each syllable he speaks, “No i-dea.”

Gearing looks back and forth, feeling quite hurt that Pharynx isn’t backing him up on this. Swift’s very life was in danger and he wants to joke around. Gearing shakes his head and looks back at Swift.

The fire’s gone, and Swift looks like she normally does. Except even more disgruntled than normal.

He walks up cautiously and reaches his neck out as far as he can as he eyeballs her. He snuffs loudly and sways side to side as he asks, “You’re not hurt?” He doesn’t catch even a hint of the horrible smell that accompanies burnt flesh and singed hair. Which only serves to confuse him even more.

Swift keeps her muscles ready to spring, in case he’s just trying to sucker her into lowering her guard. “Nooo… Except where you beat me up while I slept.”

Gearing flops down as he sighs. “Oh thank god. I was worried some of the equipment burst into flames or something… Handy’d kill me if anything happened to you and it was my fault. And I couldn’t really blame him.” He gets up and continues on the path to the stable as he says, “Well, let’s hurry up and get home.” Gearing is more than a little disturbed by the events going on. He knows what he saw. Maybe it was a spell matrix malfunction. Some kind of trick someone was playing on them? None of the thoughts are very pleasant. At minimum, that means someone else is there and worst of all…

It means someone is following them.

Pharynx exchanges glances with Swift before Pharynx shrugs and follows Gearing. Swift is beyond able to sleep at the moment. Not only has she been attacked in the middle of a much needed rest, ruining her sense of safety, and by a supposed ally at that, now, she has to worry if Gearing’s programming’s on the fritz. Even so, his reasoning showed he has a good heart with pure intentions. It was kind of sweet really. Or would have been if he wasn’t trying to smack her to the far side of the moon. Which makes it even worse as, now, she has to spend the entire night watching him to make sure there’s not another ‘misunderstanding’.

They don’t get very far before Gearing’s paranoia catches up to him and he starts looking back and forth quickly. “Hey. You see anything? Hear anything?” He whispers with a tone that is almost a quiet scream, “I don’t think we’re alone.”

Swift looks at Gearing from her position laying on the pile of supplies in the back of the cart. “Pharynx… can you knock him out? Without hurting him… or… at least without killing him? That horn’s more than just decoration, right?” Her desire to sleep has caught up and surpassed her desire to even appear friendly. She’s reached a mother’s level of ‘done with this shit’ and is so desperate for some good sleep that even Gearing’s potential death doesn’t feel like such a bad idea.

“Ayup.”

Gearing, feeling an overwhelming presence turns quickly, and then jerks his head up to look at Pharynx. “Oh. Hey. Did you see something?”

Gearing doesn’t even notice the giant hoof coming down before he completely blacks out. The giant magical shock that is accompanied with the hoof causes a flash of light that makes the immediate area almost daylight bright momentarily. Gearing flops over to the side, stiff as a board for a few seconds as he lays there and involuntarily twitches as electricity arcs across his outer gears and plating. A moment later, his body relaxes and he collapses down into a heap upon himself. Pharynx picks up Gearing with his magical levitation field, momentarily hanging him in the air like a dead chicken with his crystalline wings hanging down towards the ground limply, then sets him down into the cart behind him.

Pharynx continues on in a direct route towards the stable, with apparently no problem despite the haul that Gearing had managed to accumulate, and the combined weight of the passengers. Along the way Swift lays down, watching Gearing intently. She expects him to spring back up at any moment, and expects to have to clock him with her powerhoof any second. But, despite how she expects him to quickly recover from getting zapped by Pharynx, he stays down.

After a while of this, Swift’s eyelids start drooping and she decides she’s stood watch long enough. If he wakes up and starts anything, they’ll knock him out again. Or she’ll just kill him. Either way, she’s getting some sleep now.

Footnote: Internal component 03 not responding. . .

Internal component 04 not responding. . .

Internal component 05 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter provides a bit more information about a couple characters, and plants a few story seeds for future harvesting. And, as usual, actions have consequences, which some of those will be explained sooner than later. Starting with next weeks post really. I just hope I've planned the format correctly.

As always, comments, critiques and questions welcome and encouraged.

-Quillsy

21 Dash of Fun

Rainbow Dash flutters down the stonework hallway of one of Canterlot Castle’s side passages with her forelegs crossed over her chest as she heads towards a set of wooden double doors. She throws the doors open, startling the pair of guards on both sides as the wooden doors slam against the stonework in the process. They stare at her as she seems to be fuming, muttering to herself, and shooting cranky looks in every direction simultaneously.

Everypony watches as, a moment after she’d crossed the threshold, a pegasus stallion follows in his golden suit of Royal Guard armor that does a good job of covering up his white pelt, with his gold streaked white mane mostly hidden under the helmet. He follows at a standard trot dutifully, a bit behind and to her left, into the foyer that leads to a set of wide stairs with a pair of massive doors at the top.

The cyan pegasus spins around scowling as she takes in the view of the foyer, looking at the other guards and their positions, and then gives her wings a snap and zips over in front of a small alcove on the side with a large window behind it.

She points over into the small alcove on the left side of the hall with a forehoof as she hovers near it and screams, “Alright, Sunshine! You! There! Now!”

The buck dutifully runs over, and spins around to face in towards her and the carpeted path that leads towards the stairs. Despite the anger etched into the face of one of the most powerful mares in the world, aimed at him, he maintains his stoic faced composure as he stares straight ahead from his new position.

Dash flutters closer and puts her hoof in his face, the edge of it only an inch or so from his bright blue eye, as she yells, “You stand there, at attention, until I come back and say otherwise! Don’t move! Don’t talk. Don’t so much as blink until I get back! You understand me?!”

He quickly salutes and, before he even gets his hoof back down, Dash butts her head against his and screams, “What did I just say?! Don’t move!”

She stays there for moment, watching him not doing anything at all, before she pulls back and nods. “That’s right!” She looks at a pair of guards flanking the bottom of the stairs and points at Sunshine. “If he moves, I want to know… Understood?!”

They both quickly salute as their eyes go wide.

Dash gives a snort then zips up the stairs as quickly as she can, slamming the door behind herself.

One of the guards at the bottom of the stairs looks over at Sunshine and asks in a loud whisper, “The hell you do to get on her bad side?”

The guard on the other side of the staircase shoots their counterpart a scowl then reaches over and pops him on the back of the helmet with the handle side of their spear. “You trying to get him killed?!”

The first one’s eye go wide and he waves over towards Sunshine. “Shit… sorry.” He looks over at the other and cringes. “I just wanted to make sure not to do whatever he did.” He looks over at Sunshine and gives a cringey grin. “Sorry… just being glad I’m not you at the moment.”

Sunshine doesn’t move. At all. And keeps his eyes looking straight ahead and doesn’t even look at them.

After a few hours of things otherwise returning to normal in the foyer, a group of guards come in from the right side set of doors and there’s an official hand off of guard duties as the shift changes. One of the new arrivals asks the leaving guards, “Where’s that guy’s replacement?”

The ones from earlier shake their heads. “Do that guy a favor… don’t try to talk to him. He’s being punished.”

The new set of night shift guards look around, then at Sunshine, and another one asks, “For what?”

The leaving guards shrug before one of them replies, “We’re gonna have to wait until they let him talk again to find that out.”

The other guards look at each other then let out a sympathetic sigh, before turning to take their positions at their respective posts guarding the hall. All through the night there is barely any traffic and nothing out of the ordinary happens. Aside from the apparent day shift guard being punished into pulling a double shift all night.

The morning shift comes marching in, as the sun is starting to crest, and a few give a glance at Sunshine as they go to their positions. The leaving night shift guards give them the warning about Sunshine, earning him another wave of shocked looks, before they split off and go about their tasks. Traffic through the hall picks up as a variety of assistants, guards, and other personnel go about their business and the world starts waking up and getting active.

The one oddity is when an obviously rural earth pony family walks in through the right side doors and starts heading towards the stairs as they look around. They aren’t filthy by any means. But their clothes bear the semblance of humble roots, and not the pressed suits, pompous high fashion, or uniforms of those regularly tending to business around Canterlot.

The young colt runs around their parents, looking at the various guards with his eyes wide in excitement. He hops around taking in the sights as he jabbers on about one day being a hero of Equestria too.

The, even younger, filly was far more stealthy than her brother. As she’d managed to slip away from her parents to climb up on a few potted plants and vases as she tries to get higher and higher to get a better vantage point of the surroundings.

She starts bouncing up and down excitedly as she points out one of the large windows on the left side of the foyer. “Mamma! Mamma! Lookie! So pretty! Can we see our house from here?” They turn to look at her and their eyes bug out and their jaws fall to the ground as they see her hopping up and down.

On top of Sunshine’s head.

With each cycle, her hooves make soft tinking sounds as they impact on the top of Sunshine’s helmet. But, despite the circumstances, Sunshine’s steely glare doesn’t waver from staring straight ahead in stoic defiance of reality. He doesn’t move. Despite his helmet rattling lightly with each bounce of the excited filly’s hooves.

Her mother runs over and jumps up, grabbing her off of Sunshine’s head mid bounce and looking absolutely mortified as she hisses, “Bab, nooo!”

Her father runs over and takes his hat off as he holds it to his chest and bows repeatedly, “Ah ahm so sorry, sir. My daught’ah jus’ nevah been tah Canterlot ‘fore.”

The mother holds her daughter close and keeps staring at Sunshine wide eyed. “Oh please don’t be mad. She’s just a foal, she didn’t mean it.”

One of the other royal guards trots over quickly and looks between them as he whispers, “It’s fine. Really. Go ahead and go.”

The father looks over at Sunshine and raises an eyebrow. “It’s normally fair for a stallion tah say somethin’ when someone’s tryn’ ta apologize tah ya…”

The guard leans in and blocks their view as he says, “He can’t talk right now.”

They both look at him and the young filly asks from her mother’s hooves, “He in time out?”

The guard smirks and tilts his head before he looks at Sunshine. “Something like that…”

The filly wiggles free and runs up, wrapping her forelegs around Sunshine’s left foreleg and looking up at him as she says with sympathy, “Awww… Sorry you in trouble… Time out’s no fun.”

Her mother slaps her hoofs to her own cheeks as she hisses in disbelief, “Bab, noooo.” She quickly yanks the filly away again. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

The guard looks between them then grins as he puts a hoof to his chin. “Hmmm.” He looks sideways at Sunshine and says with a smile, “Well... breathing… is fine.” He puts a hoof up to Sunshine’s muzzle and says, “One snort if your mad. Two if it’s fine and they can go.”

There’s a pause as Sunshine takes in a large deep breath then snorts out two quick audible bursts, but, otherwise, doesn’t move.

The guard turns to look at the family and grins as he points at Sunshine. “See. It’s fine… really… But...” He looks at the father and narrows his eyes a bit. “Please control your children.”

The father nods and bows again to Sunshine. “Thank ya kindly, sir.”

They walk away with the filly waving at Sunshine as they are leaving. “Bye bye… Hope you get better!”

The colt looks over at Sunshine and points a hoof at him as he says, “If I have to be that tough to be a Royal Guard… I don’t know if I can make it, pappa.”

The father scoops up his son and says with a grin as they are climbing the stairs and he plops him onto his back, “Nopony’s born that tough, lad. Takes ah lot o’ hard work an’ dedication.”

After they’ve left, and both sets of doors are closed again with nopony else around, the guard that’d come over to intervene looks over at Sunshine wide eyed and shakes his head. “I’ve heard of honor guards going through less… The universe must hate you.”

Sunshine gives a loud snort.

The rest of the guards start snickering, but resume their vigil.

At the next changing of the guard they glare at Sunshine with their eyes uniformly huge in their sockets.

“He’s still here?!” the guard taking position near the right side of the staircase asks in horrified disbelief.

The one he’s replacing nods and replies, “Yeaaahh… he’s had a bad morning too… Kid used his head as a trampoline…” Then leans in and whispers in their ear before nodding his head towards Sunshine.

The others of the day shift stare at Sunshine in disbelief.

The next two shifts go by without incident, except for the guards getting increasingly unnerved by Sunshine’s immobile form.

The next morning a group of older school fillies on a senior trip come in with their teacher looking around. They run around the foyer, waving at the guards, batting eyes here and there, and generally making an ass of themselves. One, a light brown earth pony with a pink ribbon in her maroon mane, runs up and blows kisses at Sunshine, but, not getting any response at all, stands there staring at him. She opens her eyes to their widest while she maintains hard eye contact against his stoic expression as she starts an impromptu staring contest with him. Her friends, noticing the fun, come over to join her. Then, after a while where their teacher has been busy trying to sort through her satchel, she finally blinks. Causing her friends to start giggling at her silly failure.

She throws a hoof towards Sunshine and rolls her eyes. “Oh… this one’s a statue…”

A mint green unicorn with glasses shakes her head. “Nuh uh… I bet he’s one of them honor guards that aren’t allowed to talk or move.”

The group of fillies look at her and ask in unison, “Really?”

She nods and adjusts her glasses as she grins. “Yup!”

The maroon maned filly grins at her, then slowly looks up at Sunshine before she starts walking around him. “Oh ho ho…” she says with a giggle as she starts blatantly checking him out. She walks around front, sits down in front of him, leans back against his shoulder, and bats her eyes at his face as she asks, “Heading my way, soldier?”

Still, he doesn’t move. Not even her added weight causes him to so much as shift.

She grins widely. “Well aren’t you just delicious!” She leans up and gives him a long lick up his cheek. Causing her friends to giggle incessantly as they watch.

She leans away from Sunshine, to say something to a pair of her friends, and Sunshine lets out a long hot gush of air across her neck. She gives a shiver with her whole body and her mane stands on end. She turns sideways and smirks at him as she eyes him up and down. She leans in and partially closes her eyes as she says softly, “Oh I know what you’re smelling, big boy.” She leans up and whispers in his ear, “Get a good whiff.” Then she spins around, and up to all four hooves, turning her back to him as she wiggles her flanks and swishes her tail quickly like a happy dog as she talks to her friends.

The other guards standing around seem to have mixed feelings about all of this. If they ‘save’ him from this onslaught of fillies, is it really saving him or ruining what’s probably going to be the best part of his day?

The teacher finally returns her attention from out of her bag and starts glancing around before looking over and holding up her camera with her green glowing field as she asks, “How about we get a group picture?”

The group spreads out around Sunshine making a variety of funny faces before the teacher snaps the photo with a giggle.

One of the fillies waves her over. “Hey, come join us! You should be in a few too!”

There’s general consensus from the others before they giggle and finally get her to join them in front of the others. She sits down in front of all of her students, tucking her legs under herself, while keeping the camera in the same position with her levitation field as she grins and the others crowd in around her.

She snaps the picture.

“One more!” the maroon maned filly next to Sunshine says.

The teacher counts down and clicks, catching the two fillies on either side of Sunshine licking him up his cheeks without knowing it.

“Now a silly one!” the same instigator suggests.

Again the teacher counts down and this time one of the fillies has her hooves around Sunshine’s neck, and biting on his ear as she stares at the camera, and the other one with the glasses has her forelegs around his shoulder and kissing on his neck below his jaw as she looks at the camera.

“How about another!” one of the fillies asks as she gets up and tries to slink next to Sunshine to join in on the fun.

The teacher shakes her head as she giggles and stands up, “No, no, we need to go. There’s much to do, we’ll get more pictures later.”

There’s moans of complaints but they obediently start leaving. Then, the light brown earth pony runs back and looks Sunshine in the face with a massive grin. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help myself… But, if you think I’m even half as cute as I think you are… Here’s my number.” She tucks the paper into his armor by his chest then gives him a kiss on his nose before turning and running off to join the rest of her group as they go through the doors at the top of the stairs.

On the other side of the hall a unicorn maintenance pony steps through the side passage doorway with a bucket of water floating out in front of her as she heads to clean some section of the castle. One of the guards grabs the bucket of water from the maid as she was walking by and trots over to Sunshine. “You poor bastard… You’re dedication is ridiculous. Rest of us were squirming just watching… Want me to dump this bucket of cold water over you? One huff for ‘no’, two for ‘yes’.”

He holds up his hoof to Sunshine’s snoot and Sunshine bursts out two gushes of air, causing the other guards to chuckle.

The guard nods. “Yup. Thought so. I’d need a cold shower after that too.” He starts slowly pouring the water down Sunshine’s neck then jumps back a bit as he goes wide eyed. “Holy shit, was that steam!? Fuck!” He slowly moves the bucket back and forth along Sunshine’s length, then splashes the last of it over Sunshine’s head.

The maid looks absolutely horrified as the guard returns the bucket to her. He nods back towards Sunshine as he says, “Trust me… he needed that… Would you mop up what’s left so nopony slips?”

She nods and hurries off where she’d come from as the guard returns to his post.

At the next change of the guards, the original guard to comment on him looks at Sunshine as he passes and comes to a dead stop. “Have mercy... has he died on his hooves or something?”

One of the guards leaving comments, “I haven’t seen him so much as blink… Not even once.”

The incoming guard goes over and starts waving a hoof in front of Sunshine’s face. “Oh shit. I think he really has died!” As he’s bringing his hoof down, Sunshine lets a huge gush of air out through his nose, causing the pegasus guard to jump into the air with their wings flaring out so quickly that a few feathers scatter out and start lazily falling around. He lands a distance away with his eyes bugging out and a hoof to his chest. “Nearly had a heart attack!”

One of the guards gets a sour disposition as they ask, “Has anyone even seen Dash since she started this?” The others gently shake their head then they let out a sigh of annoyance in solidarity.

That day Rainbow Dash comes flying lazily down the stairs leading a group of ponies, most of which had passed through not to long ago. She angles and starts going along the edge of the hall, causing the others to mindlessly follow suit as they keep up their random babbling at the cyan pegasus about one matter or another. As she’s passing the small alcove where he’s practically blending in, she looks at Sunshine and salutes him with a scowl and says, “Alright, as you were!”

Sunshine snaps to a salute in response.

However, a couple of the ponies that had been with Dash jump in complete surprise at the sudden movement. A couple even go running away in a panic screaming about living statues as paperwork scatters all over the carpeted path of the foyer.

Dash curls up in the air, holding her sides and starts laughing, as there’s a practical stampede going out both doors, from several of the ponies she was with bugging out. As she’s hanging there in a mid air giggle fit, the doors at the top of the stairs open and initially only draws a few’s attention, but all of Sunshine’s.

Sunshine begins shaking lightly, and takes a step back into the alcove as his eyes widen at the figure who steps through the doorway.

Princess Celestia, in all of her shining majesty.

“Rainbow Dash!” Celestia calls out from the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention. “I must have a word with you. Right this instant!”

Dash turns around and waves. “Sure. What do you need?” She zips over and starts flying in the air around Celestia as she walks down the stairs and the rest of Dash’s entourage, the ones left that haven’t fled already, excuse themselves and leave after giving a respectful bow to Celestia.

“It has come to my attention that you have been tormenting a member of my Royal Guard! Explain yourself this instant!” She walks through the center of the hall on the carpet, looking back and forth, then stopping and staring at Sunshine.

Sunshine, for his part, tries his best not to move. Despite the absolute terror building up within himself. To flee at this point would draw way too much attention to himself and he doesn’t want that at all. He has a distinctive fantasy about turning around, jumping through the window behind him, and flying away as fast as he possibly could.

But that would be counterproductive.

So, instead, he stands there looking as stoic as he possibly can manage and tries to continue blending in with the rest of the royal guards. And the environment itself.

Celestia looks over at Sunshine and regards him, seeing the micro movements as he does his best to stay still but can’t. “The poor thing’s been here for days! Look, he’s about to collapse!”

Dash flies around in front of her and gives a nervous grin as she rubs a hoof on the back of her prismatic mane. “Oh… well… Ya see.”

Celestia scowls at her. “Who are you to be ordering around members of my Royal Guard anyway?!” She points a hoof at Dash. “My sister may have given you an office, but that does not entitle you to harass castle guards!”

Dash gets a crooked smile that’s fading as she says softly, “I- I can explain.”

Celestia starts tearing into Dash and asking how someone who’s the bearer of loyalty could be so cruel to her underlings. It escalates and Dash can’t even get a word in edgewise as she’s increasingly mortified about how this has turned out.

Dash hovers there with her legs hanging limply and her jaw agape as she can’t do anything but take the barrage.

Pinkie Pie jumps out of a potted bush nearby and lands on Sunshine’s back as she hops and bounces around on all four of her hooves on him simultaneously, laughing uncontrollably with her head high in the air. She rolls over onto him, rolling back and forth while holding her sides in her giggle fits, before finally falling off of Sunshine’s back and landing on the floor. But it does nothing to stop her increasing laughter. If anything it makes it louder, as she even giggles at herself with genuine mirth.

With the tension cut from Pinkie’s rampant laughing, Sunshine tries to diffuse the situation further. As much as he’d personally prefer to run away screaming himself, he can’t let the beloved cyan pegasus go down for something so silly. Or, worse, get cursed like he is. Sunshine gives a sheepish grin and says shakily, “It’s okay. I could stand here as long as needed. I would stand here as long as it took.” He sits down and waves at himself as he grins, an extremely forced grin, at Celestia. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine, really.”

She looks him over and frowns. “Who are you, really… You’re not one of my guards…” She straightens up and looms over him. “Nopony sits in front of the princess.”

Sunshine shakes a bit as he instinctively takes a step back, and starts second guessing the merits of his jumping through the glass window escape plan, and looks around.“Pinkie? Dash? Halp?”

Dash sits down on the carpet and folds her hooves as she glares at Pinkie. “You got us in this mess.”

Celestia leans down and stares at Sunshine as she uses her magic to yank off his helmet. “I asked you a question.” Several other guards start closing in around them drawing weapons as they glare at Sunshine.

Sunshine grinds a forehoof into the ground as he looks up at her. “It’s a little complicated… promise you won’t get mad?” He increasingly shakes and shrinks down as he looks up into her ever looming eyes.

Celestia snorts in annoyance. “Better talk fast.”

Sunshine looks around at the others and takes off the armor, kicking it off to the side so it’s out of the way. Then he lays down meekly and looks up at her. He gives her a sheepish grin before his form starts to shift and sink in as he drops the illusion and his body changes into his true brass clockwork self. Gearing in the metallic flesh. He huddles down with his forehooves over his head and says with a groan as he starts visibly shaking, “It was just a joke… I’m sorry.”

Celestia pulls back a bit and looks at Pinkie Pie. “I suppose you put them up to this?”

“Yup! Best prank ever! You should have seen everpony’s face when he finally moved, it was great!” She sits and giggles some more as she holds her stomach with her forelegs.

Celestia sighs and shakes her head before she looks down at Gearing. “It’s not funny using protecaponies for pranks. It can be quite dangerous if they were to malfunction.”

Dash and Pinkie cringe visibly as they look at Gearing, but notice Gearing is too busy shaking and cowering to say anything they’d expect him to say to such a comment.

Pinkie raises a hoof classroom style and says, “Actuallllyyy… he’s… a pegasus.”

Dash points at him and confirms, “He’s a buck. Not a machine.”

Celestia turns and looks at him as she asks, “Is that so?”

Gearing nods lightly as he looks up at her. “Yes, ma’am. Princess, Ma’am. Like I said, it’s complicated. I know how I look, but I’m a pegasus.” He fans out his wings and causes the room to cascade in greenish hues of light. He hates drawing attention to himself from her of all ponies, but it’s probably necessary at this point. Though, on some level, he’s wondering how often she comes up with horrible curses that she actually forgets about them eventually… Although he realizes she is very old so maybe that has something to do with it. Best not remind her of the reason, assuming even SHE knows, and just try and get out of the situation as quickly as possible, he decides. Just let me fade out of the situation as a joking novelty, he silently begs the universe.

Celestia stands up straight as she seems to come to a decision and looks down at him. “Hmmm… so you’re a pony… right?”

Gearing straightens up a bit and nods rapidly, hoping this is the correct answer. He has to protect his commander if nothing else. “Yes. I am. I promise!”

Celestia tilts her head as she muses, “Well... that changes things.” She turns and faces back towards the stairs where she came from. “Impersonating a Royal Guard is a serious offense for a pony to commit.”

“Eep,” Gearing squeaks out as his brushed-copper eyes go large and he huddles down tightly to himself again.

Celestia tosses her hair and closes her eyes as she says, “Guards, arrest him and lock him behind bars while I figure out what should be done with him.”

Dash cringes and rubs her upper forearm with a hoof. “I- isn’t that a bit harsh, Princess?”

A couple guards come over with their weapons drawn, and Gearing solemnly offers his forehoofs as they put on manacles. They start leading him away, as he’s hanging his head and offering no resistance, as they head towards the stairs.

Pinkie watches as Gearing’s walking away and says softly, as her hair seems to deflate a bit, “Well… that’s not as fun.”

Before Gearing gets to the door there’s a loud clank and ping as the manacles holding him break, as he apparently takes a step too far, and sends a link flying away and bouncing off a wall. He cringes and the guards surrounding him spin around putting their swords to his throat as he says, “Sorry! It’s just it was too small. I’m not trying to run, honest!” They snort and motion with their heads and he continues on out of the room dragging the pieces of chain across the floor as he walks.

Gearing’s lead to a small dungeon area where ponies wait until they are either released or sent on to one of the more modern jailing systems. It’s dark and dank and a reminder of times not to far passed. Gearing gets put in a cell by himself with a bed and a bucket for a pony to relieve themselves in. But not before they clamp his wings down to his sides with special wing restraints, like a metal reinforced cloth girdle, to keep him from flying off. After the guards have locked the large metal bars behind him and walked away, he starts taking in his surroundings. He shakes his head as he closes his eyes, then as he opens them again his form changes once more.

This time Gearing’s body is quickly coated in a dark blue pelt with his mane and tail changing into a more even blue. Without the armor covering it up, and even with wearing a different color pelt, his strong features, both muscular and structural, like his jawline, become prevalent as he turns around and backs into the far back left corner. He lays down and stares at the gate wide-eyed as he tries to process everything that’s happened.

This isn’t what he was expecting. Celestia wasn’t supposed to be involved. If he’d known she’d be anywhere near it he would have never agreed to it. He’s sure he could probably get out of this on his own, but it would involve a lot of ponies getting hurt in the process. Worst of all, Rainbow Dash would be in even more trouble than whatever punishment she’s having to face now.

His brain runs from one morbid grim thought to another in rapid succession.

There’s no telling what’s going to happen to him. With the princesses pissed off at him, anything’s possible. He’d already been cursed with this metal body. What’s after that? He can’t even imagine. But, then again, most ponies couldn’t even imagine a pony being stuck in a metal shell. So, obviously, they are very creative in their torture. He huddles in the corner, shivering and shaking and debating on some other way out of this.

Hanging himself wouldn’t do any good. He doesn’t need to breath. And there’s nothing in here sharp enough to do enough damage to himself to avoid whatever hell’s coming his way. Maybe picking a fight with a guard? Getting their weapon away and using it himself? On himself? Would Dash still get in trouble if he suicided by cop?

A detention guard walks by with a tray and looks in at him as he smirks. “Hey, blue buck… Dinner time.” He sets the tray down and pushes it to the bars.

Gearing looks at it and says softly, “No thanks.”

The guard shrugs and turns around to leave. “No skin off my nose. I just have to give it to you.”

Some time later, of which he can only guess at given the lack of natural light, a pale gray unicorn mare comes down and stares at Gearing through the bars. “Are you the one known as ‘Gearing’?”

“Yeah,” Gearing says softly as he huddles in the corner and stares at her. He takes note of the robes which designate her as a Royal Guard security administrator.

She looks down at the ground at the untouched tray and asks, “Not hungry?”

“No,” he answers flatly.

She looks him over and asks, “You intend on eating this?”

“No,” he answers in the same tone.

She frowns as she sits down and folds her forehooves across her chest. “Well, you are in jail. This isn’t a resort. It’s a punishment. You’re going to have to eat what we give you or go hungry.”

Gearing replies flatly, “Fine.”

She sees him still not moving then asks, “You’re really not going to eat this?”

Gearing doesn’t even respond to her, and just lays there wide eyed as many possibilities goes through his mind and he barely pays the current conversation any attention.

She lets out a sigh as she opens a book and holds it up in front of herself with her silvery levitation field. “Well, Gearing, my name’s Silver Aura and I’m the security officer on duty. Come to the bars please; I need to give you an examination.”

Gearing blinks a few times then actually looks at her. “For what?”

Silver Aura looks over at him as she has the book floating in the side of her vision. “It’s come to our attention that you have some sort of magical abilities. Being a pegasus, you shouldn’t be able to do that… so… either you aren’t a pegasus, and really a unicorn, or some other magic capable race, in which case we have to take the proper precautions… or you are hiding items on your person that lets you do which you should not be able to do… in which case we need to confiscate them.” She waves a hoof dismissively. “Either way, I need to find out the truth.”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments then says flatly, “Not doing that.”

She stomps a hoof before pointing it at him. “Don’t be so stubborn. You’ve already accepted your punishment. Don’t make it any worse!” Her purple amethyst eyes narrow as she scowls and points down by the gate. “Now get over here so I can process you correctly.”

Gearing doesn’t move a single hair.

She smirks and asks, “You think I don’t have any way of dispelling that illusion of yours?”

Gearing’s eyes go a bit wider and she smirks even wider. “Yeah. I know all about it. Faking looking like a white Royal Guard… and somehow making yourself look like a protectapony after that? Nope.” She shakes her head as she looks up at the ceiling and ruffles her silver mane in the process. “We’re not having any of that nonsense in here. So either cough up the items, or you’ll end up regretting it.”

“I can’t do that,” Gearing says flatly.

Her horn glows brighter as her smirk increases. “Fine! Then after I expose whatever item you have, and take it, you’re getting extra time for non-cooperation and conspiracy to escape!”

“I’m behind bars.” Gearing rolls his eyes. “I can’t do anything in here with an illusion, even if I had illusionary magic!”

She grins widely then shrugs as it turns into a half scowl and she snorts, “Fine. Criminal!” Then a gust of energy shoots from her horn and splashes against Gearing in a burst of bluish twinkling lights.

Gearing’s illusion drops instantly. At the same moment, he starts spasming and shaking all over in his brass clockwork form as electricity starts sparking and arcing over his body while his eyes bug out and his throat seizes shut.

Silver Aura stands there with her muzzle agape for a moment, in complete shock, that only morphs to a look of abject horror as Gearing’s throat opens enough to scream.

And scream he does.

A blood curdling involuntary scream of pain and torment as his body shakes and sparks.

A couple guards come running over at the noise and one shoves her out of the way as he screams, “The hell did you do to him?!” He looks in and sees Gearing shaking and rolling around in pain as he screams, at least when he’s able, as the electricity jumps and arcs over his entire form. The arcing electricity heats up the metal, both from his body and inside of the wing restraints, in certain points that they get so hot that the thick cloth binding his wings smolders, scorches, and burns in spots, creating smoke that wafts out of the prison cell.

The mare guard shoves Silver Aura against the far wall and repeats what her coworker just asked, “The fuck did you do to him?! He’s just being detained! Not tortured!”

The light grey unicorn stammers. “N- n- nothing! I- I- I-”

The first guard wheels around on her. “The hell you did nothing! Look at him!”

The unicorn mare shakes her head. “That shouldn’t have happened! It’s just a magic disruption spell to cancel out illusions!” She looks past them and puts her hooves to her mouth as Gearing flops around and spasms as he sporadically howls. “It shouldn’t be doing this…” She flops down on her rear watching in horror at what she’d done. “It- it shouldn’t be doing this. It shouldn’t!”

The mare guard slaps Silver Aura across the face to pull her out of her stupor. “Well stop it! Turn it off!”

Silver Aura shrugs. “I… I can’t… It’s just a burst spell. It simply turns them off, it doesn’t have lingering effects!”

The mare guard looks over at Gearing flopping around and asks in panic, “The fuck are we going to do!?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Footnote: Internal component 04 not responding. . .

Internal component 05 not responding. . .

Internal component 06 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter starts a section that reveals a lot about Gearing's past. It's also provided me a bit of a challenge in the way I'm presenting it, and I may have to rearrange things if I figure out a better way of doing it later. It's sort of a flashback, but a more accurate way of saying it would be scenes from the past being shown and limited in focus to being directly around Gearing.

Questions, critiques, and comments welcome and encouraged as always!

-Quillsy

22 Shocking Developments

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Over the course of the next few minutes, and while the two detention guards and security officer stand by helplessly as they try to figure out what to do, the sparking slowly subsides as the arcing energy discharges from Gearing’s body. He’s left there, motionless, laying on the floor of the dungeon cell as smoke trails up from the still smoldering cloth of the wing restraints.

The three in the hallway slowly start walking closer, hearing a mummer, but not quite sure what to make of it.

The mare guard leans close to the bars and twitches her ears as she tries to focus, then her eyes shoot to their fullest as she starts making out what he’s saying. Over. And over. Slowly. Tears form in her eyes as she follows along quietly, “Lieutenant Gearing… Equestrian Defense Force… Sierra Zulu 61357… Lieutenant Gearing… Equestrian Defense Force… Sierra Zulu 61357…”

“You fucking bitch! We’re going upstairs and you can explain this shit to the captain!” She jumps over and grabs Silver Aura by her silver mane as she starts dragging her off towards the door.

Silver Aura screams, “It’s not my fault!” as she cries and gets lead out by her mane.

There’s a sound of a meaty hit echoing down the hall as the guard jack slaps the unicorn with a back side swing of a forehoof. “You nearly killed him!” As she’s opening the door to go up she screams, “We need a medic down here, now!”

There’s a loud commotion as the unicorn mare continuously apologizes through her wails of crying and a growing number of other ponies get involved.

Gearing, through all of this, stares off into space while laying partially sprawled out on his belly, muttering repeatedly, but barely audibly, “Lieutenant Gearing… Equestrian Defense Force… Sierra Zulu 61357…”

The buck guard sits on the ground and stares in at him through the bars as he shakes his head. “Hold on, soldier. Help’s coming.”

An older unicorn comes through the door and continues running down the hall with a bag floating in front of himself as an earth pony mare in a pink and yellow uniform follows behind.

The guard opens the door to the cell and points in at Gearing as he says, “I don’t know what she did to him, but she fucked him up pretty bad.”

The unicorn looks in and shakes his head as he draws up short. “What?” He looks at the guard and points at Gearing as the earth pony mare climbs into the cell with Gearing. “Why did you all call a medical alert for a potectapony? Shoulda just called maintenance.” He looks in at Gearing and tilts his head. “Why is a protectapony even in jail?”

The mare starts setting things aside from her own satchel and seems so focused on following through with her training that she doesn’t bother to stop to ponder the same questions that the unicorn is asking. She looks at Gearing, then leans down with her head near his mouth as she tries to listen. She looks over at the guard and asks, “What is he saying, I don’t understand?”

The guard looks at her and swallows before replying, “He’s giving his name, rank, and serial number.”

The mare tilts her head and then looks down at Gearing as she asks, “Why would he do that? We already know who he is.”

The guard chokes and swallows hard. “It’s what we’re trained to do in case we get captured… To avoid giving up secrets… when… when we’re being tortured…” He looks at Gearing and says softly, “Focus on that and nothing else, so you don’t accidentally say something that could hurt somepony else.”

The mare puts her hooves to her mouth and gapes at the two. She leans towards them and hisses, “Just what happened that would trigger that response?!” She starts running her hooves over Gearing’s body and notices the variety of scorch marks both on the cloth restraints and the visible brass. “Don’t fucking lie to me! I need to know so I can treat him!”

The guard shakes his head as he rubs it with a hoof in frustration. “I- I don’t know. She said she just tried to remove the illusion he had… When I got here he was flopping around and sparks were shooting everywhere… and the screaming… goddesses protect me the screams…”

The mare tries to roll Gearing over, and she grunts and pushes but makes no real headway. “Do you have him bolted to the floor too!?”

The guard shakes his head. “No, just his wings are bound. He broke the manacles on his forelegs on the way down here.”

She keeps leaning against Gearing. “Help me get him to his side. I need to check his chest.”

The guard hops in then starts pushing and grunts as his hooves slide on the stone floor but Gearing’s body does little more than lean. “What the hell, this buck’s heavy!” He looks over at the unicorn. “Hey, horn head, lend us a hoof, would ya?”

The unicorn rolls his eyes. “I swear you all are so incompetent here I’ll-” He stops mid sentence as he focuses his horn then has to spread out his feet as he starts sweating and grimacing as his overglow flashes repeatedly over both his horn and Gearing, but makes no real headway either.

The guard sneers at him. “Heavier than he looks, ain’t he?!” Between the three they get him rolled over and the nurse starts looking at the ground where he’d been laying.

“What are these green shards of glass everywhere?” the nurse asks.

The guard shakes his head. “I don’t know; they weren’t in here when he was put in here.”

She starts looking around Gearing’s sides and her eyes go wide as she sees another green piece slip out of a burnt hole in the cloth and join the others on the ground. “Get his wing restraints off. Get them off now!”

The guard doesn’t even question it as he unlocks the wing restraints and lets the metal bars, with what was left of the cloth, fall away.

Along with a large collection of pieces of green shards.

The mare gingerly touches Gearing’s wings and says in shock as she looks over the mangled metal framework, “His… his wings… his wings are broken into…” She looks around at the ground and moans out in dismay, “Millions of pieces.” She looks at the guard and shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure this is beyond what we can do here, he needs a hospital.”

“More like a call to maintenance,” the unicorn says as he rolls his eyes. A moment later he’s laying against the far bars and shaking his head as blood trails from his mouth.

The guard, turning around after jumping out of the cell and bucking him across the hall, screams at him, “Protectaponies don’t get put in jail, don’t feel pain, and they damn sure haven’t been trained to repeat their name, rank, and serial number!”

The mare screams at them, “Quit fighting and help me!” She props Gearing’s head up, looks at Gearing’s thousand yard stare, and feels a shiver as she looks at the vacant expression as she hears him mutter and drone on.

“…Sierra Zulu 61357…”

A few moments later a group of detention guards come running in, a few of which are unicorns. They look into the cell and the one in the lead shoots the guard near the injured unicorn doctor a dirty look. “Little rough… don’t you think?”

The jailer puts his hooves in the air and waves it off. “Oh hell no, Captain, I’m not taking the blame for this! That little dumb ass unicorn mare you all sent down here did this.” He looks in at Gearing and says with a groan, “He’s in bad shape, Captain.”

They try to put him on a stretcher, but he just rips through it, and they end up having to use the wood and metal top of a table to carry him out of the detention block.

The original jailer looks into the prison cell and asks as he rubs the mane on the back of his head, “Should we… I don’t know… take this glass with us? It’s part of his wings, ain’t it?”

The nurse shrugs and shakes her head. “There’d be no way for putting it back together… Either treatment works to regrow what he’s lost or…”

The guard looks at her. “Or what?”

The nurse shakes her and turns to follow the others out. “Or he’s permanently maimed and will never fly again.”

They carry him to the medical ward and lay him on a table with the unicorn in the white robes following behind. As they are stepping away the older unicorn throws his hooves in the air and says in exasperation, “There or here I don’t know what to do about this! In the risk of getting kicked in the face again, it still just looks like a job for maintenance.”

The nurse screams at him, “How about looking up the fucking serial number he keeps repeating and see what his file says!”

The older unicorn motions towards the computer. “Go ahead.” He sits down and folds his forelegs obstinately. “I’m not going to do a damn thing.”

The other guards glare at him and the unicorn throws his hooves up defensively as he balks. “Whoa! Before you start fighting over who gets to kick my ass next. I do not know how to help him. A simple spell caused this. For all I know all magic has that effect.” He glares at them and folds his hooves in front of himself again. “I took an oath… ‘do no harm’… remember? And I don’t want to do any more damage than he’s already been through.”

It may have just been a bit of quick thinking on his part to keep from getting trounced by a group of disgruntled guards but they all realize he’s right.

The nurse quickly pulls up the archive system on the medical terminal then types in Gearing’s serial number to try and pull up his service record. The screen flashes a few times, as it looks like it has temporarily lost connection, and she shakes her head as she stares at it in confusion. Then a moment later she asks in a tone that’s slightly unnerved, “Ummm... What does it mean when it says ‘Access denied. Help on the way. Administer magically infused bandages and potions until arrival’?”

The detention guard captain walks over and leans over her shoulder while looking at the screen. His eyes jump wide then he yells, “Everypony out! All of you! Go! You too, Doc!” He looks at the nurse and says in a softer tone, “Not you, miss.”

The older unicorn looks around and waves his hooves. “The hell’s this about? You can’t just kick me out of here. This is my medical ward!”

The guard captain pulls out his sidearm and points it at the doctor. “Get. Out.”

The nurse backs away with an ‘eep’ and recoils away from him as the other guards grab the doctor and hurry up out the door, closing it behind themselves in the process. The guards stand outside the door in a line, barricading anyone from entering without even being told, as the doctor stands in the hallway and rants about being forced out of his own medical ward.

The guard captain puts his weapon away and looks at the nurse. “Medical bandages and healing potions?”

She nods lightly. “Yes” She looks at the screen again and says, “It explicitly mentions ‘magically infused’ healing bandages.”

The guard captain nods and motions towards Gearing. “Well. Get to it. Something tells me that we don’t have long until all hell breaks loose.”

The nurse runs over and looks Gearing over and then shakes her head as she tries to work out a plan of action. “Help me get these other beds over here. I’m going to need to manually extend his wings out and lay them down.” She lets out a sigh as she looks at the mangled form of what was once Gearing’s personal light catchers. “What’s left of them… anyway…”

The captain jumps over and helps her move two more tables over, one on either side of Gearing and perpendicular to the steel table he’s actually laying on. As she’s carefully extending out his right wing, with pieces slowly falling away, the guard captain looks down at Gearing’s face and asks, “There anything you can give him to put him out? I don’t know how he’s managed to stay conscious through all of this as it is…”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know how any sedative would work on him. I don’t even see how the bandages are going to help, but I’m sure going to try!” She drags over a large metal box and starts pulling out the various medical kits inside, popping them open and laying them out as she starts commandeering the bandages. She looks over his entire form and lets out a sigh as she shakes her head, and then starts gingerly wrapping his wing. “Gods I hope this works. Please let this work.”

The guard captain lowers himself to look in Gearing’s face. “Can you hear me, soldier?”

“… Equestrian Defense Force…”

“Help’s on the way, Lieutenant Gearing,” the captain says softly.

“…Sierra Zulu 61357…”

He looks up at the nurse and asks, “How can we get a healing potion in him?”

The nurse looks at him and then looks around the medical ward before her eyes settle on a cabinet. “I have an idea!” She runs over to the cabinet, grabs one of the IV drip bags from inside, and comes back. She uses the gauze scissors and cuts the connector off the end of the tube and slits open the top of the IV bag. “Here, help me get his mouth open and we’ll try putting this into his throat.”

The guards looks at her. “Aren’t you afraid to get it into his lungs?”

She frowns and shrugs as she smiles weakly. “There’s only two paths… either it goes down his trachea, or esophagus. If he starts coughing we’ll know it’s the wrong one… but... really, I know how to put in a feeding tube and, besides, just getting it into his mouth should be enough for it to start getting absorbed… Just have to control the rate of flow.

The captain opens Gearing’s mouth and finds practically no resistance at all in the action, and, eerily enough, it doesn’t do much to stop his constant mumbling. The nurse puts the tube into Gearing’s muzzle, and rests the end against the side of his tongue before having the captain close Gearing’s mouth again. She stands there, and pours a bit of one of the healing potions into the top of the IV bag and watches as it goes down the tube of the improvised funnel slowly.

After not hearing any coughing, or other negative effects, she dumps the rest of the bottle into the bag, then adjusts the feed button to it before holding it up for the captain to take. “Here, hold this while I bandage his wings.”

The captain does as instructed, and watches carefully. He looks over to the side and lets out a snort of interest, drawing the attention of the nurse. He points over to the side and the nurse lets out a gasp and then starts grinning as she sees the crystals beginning to slowly reform along Gearing’s wings.

“Thank goodness,” the nurse says as she wipes a tear from her eyes. “I was hoping I could help him. I didn’t want to just be useless.” She starts wrapping him up quickly, using magical bandage after bandage.

Before she even gets done with one wing, a commotion starts in the hallway that continues to get louder. The captain passes off the IV bag to the nurse as he says with a sigh, “And here’s the company I’ve been expecting…” He looks at her and says softly, “Do yourself a favor, and talk as little as possible… okay?”

She looks at him and raises an eyebrow, but nods as she holds up the IV bag.

The captain opens the door and sees a group of soldiers arguing with the detention guards who are blocking the doorway. “Step aside and let them through,” he says and the guardsponies look back at him, then do as told and he follows suit motioning into the room as the soldiers pour into the medical ward. After the cream colored older unicorn bringing up the rear comes through the guard captain shuts the door behind them all.

The cream colored unicorn asks as he’s walking over to Gearing, “What has he said?”

“Name. Rank. Serial number,” the captain says with a frown.

The cream unicorn turns back and looks at him over his glasses. “Nothing else? Just that?”

The captain nods. “Since this happened. Yes.”

The older unicorn walks over and starts looking Gearing over as he sighs and winces as his eyes pass over the damage. “And… exactly what was ‘this’ you’re referring to?”

The captain looks over at the nurse as he says, “We’re still trying to figure that out, exactly. Miss?”

The nurse looks back and forth as she tries to think. She looks at Gearing and says with a shake of her head. “According to what the security officer said. All she did was cast an illusion disruption spell on him… however…” She starts pointing around at the scorch marks along Gearing’s hide. “The damage is inconsistent with that. He has a variety of burns and scorch marks scattered over his entire body, which are consistent with the jailer’s report that he was being shocked somehow. I think his wings were shattered as a result from the convulsions he suffered.” She shakes her head as she looks at the older unicorn. “I don’t see how the two are related, but the security officer, Silver Aura, has never had a problem with this before; I don’t think it was intentional. It’s a spell she knows well.” She gently runs her hoof over Gearing’s mane. “By time I got there he was already like this. Catatonic and unresponsive.”

The cream unicorn walks around front of Gearing and looks into Gearing’s eyes. “I have a few theories of my own…” He looks over at the captain and narrows his eyes. “And you’re sure he’s said… nothing?”

The guard captain nods. “And I ordered everyone out when I saw the query response.”

He eyeballs the captain over his glasses for a moment then shrugs. “I’m sure. He’s good.” He waves his hoof. “We’ll take over from here. Thank you, miss.”

The nurse looks around then shakes her head. “This is my patient. I’m not going to just abandon him.”

The older unicorn looks at her over his glasses and asks, “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

The nurse shakes her head. “No. And I don’t want to know because I don’t care. Celestia herself couldn’t order me to abandon one of my patients.”

The captain grins as he looks at the cream colored unicorn. “She’s dedicated. It’s why I had her stay and ordered the doctor out.”

The unicorn frowns then pulls out a tape recorder. “Well… Here’s how this is going to go.” He clicks it on. “We’re going to work on this. With the recorder going… if anything is said that isn’t supposed to be, your memories will be removed… understood?”

“Go ahead.” The nurse shrugs. “I just want to help and make sure he’s safe and well.” She gives a wide warm smile. “It’s what Fluttershy would want of me.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Alright.”

The captain waves and gets his attention. “Is there anything you can do to knock him out? He’s obviously suffering.”

The unicorn looks Gearing over and shakes his head. “I really don’t want to try it. I know of a few things, but he’s so unstable right now.” He shakes his head again. “Nope. Not risking it.” He looks over at the soldiers then waves his hoof around the room, and they start pulling out equipment and quickly begin sweeping the room. A few pops and puffs of smoke appear as things that either are, or seem like, surveillance devices go up in a puff of magic smoke.

The cream unicorn pulls out a PipBuck from his coat and attaches it to Gearing’s foreleg, holding it there as he shuts it and turns it on. A moment later it begins blaring a variety of alarms and he slowly looks the list over. His face turns bright red and he bucks a cabinet hard enough that the contents scatter halfway across the room.

The captain looks at the older stallion and asks, “Can you even tell us what’s wrong?”

The unicorn sucks on his teeth and shakes his head. “He’s hurt. Bad. And I can’t do anything about it here.” He looks over at the nurse. “And you said it was just an illusion disruption spell? Do you know which one?”

The nurse shrugs then nods as she walks over to a cabinet. She comes back as she holds open the book and points. “This is the one she normally uses.”

He looks it over and turns his head side to side as he looks it over and thinks it through. Then his eyes go wide as a sudden realization hits him and he slowly hangs his head. “How’d we miss that?”

“Excuse me?” the nurse asks softly.

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t her fault… It was mine… I didn’t… UHG!” He stomps a hoof on the ground hard a few times. “It’s so damn basic!” He looks over at the captain and nods towards Gearing. “I’m assuming possession of the patient. He needs surgery. Like now.”

The nurse looks back and forth and asks, “Can we stabilize him first?”

The cream unicorn smiles at her then shakes his head lightly. “Best we can do, is get him to the O.R. … He’s not going to bleed to death, but every second we waste is that much longer he’s laying here in agony and, I’m sorry, but the potions and bandages will not fix what’s wrong with him.”

She looks over at Gearing, then back at the unicorn and gives a strong nod. “Understood. Please take care of the lieutenant.”

The unicorn tilts his head. “Lieutenant?” His eyes open wider. “Ah… That’s just what he’s been repeating…” He smirks. “It’s hard to beat old training… he’s been promoted since then…” He looks over at Gearing and smiles. “It’s Colonel Gearing now.”

The guard captain sputters and spits as his eyes go wide. “Oh fuck… Some heads are going to roll for this…”

The older unicorn looks over at him and raises an eyebrow. “I doubt it…” He waves a hoof. “Unless it was intentionally malicious… in which case… very much so, and more literally than figuratively… but…” He looks at Gearing and sighs. “Somehow I get the feeling that, even in this state, he knows it wasn’t intentional and won’t bear any grudges about it.” He uses his magic and gently folds Gearing’s wings back against his body. He starts tucking Gearing’s legs under him, in a more natural and comfortable position, then stops. He looks over at the guard captain and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Mind explaining to me why he’s been manacled?”

The guard captain rubs a hoof through his mane. “Celestia ordered him arrested herself… I don’t know the exact charge yet, all I’d heard was it was something stupid.”

The cream unicorn looks at Gearing and frowns. “That… complicates matters…” He finishes tucking Gearing in and puts a sheet all the way over him as he debates on what to do.

The nurse looks around at their grim faces then chimes in, “There are allowances for a prisoner’s custody to be temporarily transferred to another facility for medical treatment, if the attending physician deems it necessary.”

The cream unicorn looks at her over his glasses as he appraises her and asks, “And…?”

The nurse looks at him, then around the room at the others before waving a hoof and closing her eyes as she tilts her head up and back. “This is beyond the skill of our facility. As the only medical personnel present I ask that you take care of him as expediently as possible.”

The guard captain coughs into his hoof then says softly, “The… doctor’s right outside the door and-”

The nurse glares at the guard captain strong enough to cut him off. “The doctor’s an incompetent oaf! Furthermore, he refused to treat the colonel, repeatedly, and kept telling everypony to take him to maintenance!”

The cream unicorn flinches and looks at Gearing. “Ohhh he might find himself on a chopping block for that one.” He shakes his head. “This is such a nasty mess.” He looks over at the guard captain. “Get whatever paperwork you need filled out for that and I’ll sign for it while they load him up.” He looks over at the soldiers then motions with his head towards Gearing and they immediately grab the wooden table top Gearing is resting on and start carrying him out.

By the time they are loading Gearing into the back of a nondescript skywagon, the cream colored unicorn catches up with them and jumps into the back. He pulls the sheet covering Gearing back to look at Gearing and curses at the vacant stare in Gearing’s eyes. His eyes travel down to the chains, then he looks over at an amethyst unicorn mare in a business suit sitting further inside and watching him through her glasses. He nods towards Gearing and says with a snort, “Get those damn things off him…”

She nods then walks over and starts looking them over as the skywagon takes to the air after everyone’s loaded inside. Before they’ve even gotten to altitude the chains have been unlocked and tossed to the side. She grabs a folded blanket from under a bench and uses her magic to gently slide it under Gearing’s head. She brushes Gearing’s mane and looks over at the older cream colored unicorn sitting across from their non-responsive compatriot. “What the hell did they do to him, Crème ? He’s been shot out of the air and on the way to the hospital he was cracking jokes about being allergic to gravity. What could have reduced him to… this.” She waves a hoof at Gearing as he continues to mutter the same monotoned phrases.

Crème shakes his head then leans over and whispers, “I think his implants arced, shorted, and or fried when they hit him with a matrix disruption spell.”

Her eyes go wide and she pulls back the sheet. She puts a hoof to her mouth as she sees all of the various scorch marks across his once shiny body. “Gods…” She looks at Crème and says in a hiss, “That would have killed anypony else.”

Crème nods and hangs his head. “It’s so fucking basic. Why didn’t any of us think of it?” He looks at Gearing and his shoulders droop. “If this puts him out, she’s going to have all of our heads.”

Not long after, they touch down and the back opens, revealing an underground parking lot and they quickly grab Gearing and head inside. They rush through the research facility towards and into a room with equipment everywhere. Besides the various equipment the room is otherwise sterile, except for the variety of magical glyphs embedded on every surface. They set Gearing down on a heavy metal operating table, sliding him off the improvised stretcher, and starting to lay him out as comfortably as they can.

Crème gets around to the front of Gearing and says softly, “Gearing. You’re back. We’ll get you taken care of.”

Gearing continues staring off across the room and, with the absolute quiet of the room, except the soft hum of certain equipment and glyphs, Gearing’s muttering seems magnified, “Equestrian Defense Force… Sierra Zulu 61357… Lieutenant Gearing…”

Crème stands up and shakes his head and then turns to walk away when an alarm goes off on Gearing’s PipBuck. Crème turns and looks at it, then reaches over and hits the notification to turn it off so it wouldn’t annoy Gearing more than necessary.

“Hey, Gearing! How’s the greatest assistant in the whole wide world doing?” Rainbow Dash’s voice comes out of the PipBuck.

Crème stares at it, but quickly jerks his head to the side as he looks at Gearing and takes in the sudden absolute silence of the room.

“If you’re not busy trying to save the world, hop by and pick up those files you know you need to grab for me, would ya?” The message from Dash continues.

Crème’s eyes jump wide open as Gearing asks softly, “Lieutenant Gearing… Equestrian Defense For- Commander?”

“And if you could… like… take care of that boring ass shit for me… that’d be great!” Dash’s voice says from his PipBuck.

“Yes, Commander…” Gearing says with a grunt as he blinks and starts pushing himself up.

“See you at the hub!” Dash’s voice finishes cheerfully.

Gearing drags himself up by his forehooves with his head hanging and his wings crumpled at his sides. “Colonel Gearing...” He brings his intense gaze up from the table as he starts moving forward and is about to climb off the end of the table. “...Reporting for duty.”

The soldiers off to the side, that had helped carry him in, watch the broken and battered clockwork pull himself up and turn to climb off the table in absolute shock.

Crème jumps over in front of Gearing and puts his forehooves on Gearing’s shoulders as he yells, “Whoa there! Gearing! Can you hear me, Gearing?”

Gearing shakes with regular tremors and his eyes move around a bit, but he has a hard time looking at Crème as his eyes seem to involuntarily jump in different directions. “Y- yeah… Crème?” Crème nods and Gearing starts leaning forward again. “Dash… needs me.”

Crème uses his magic and all of his physical strength to keep Gearing on the table. And, as he was already aware would happen before even beginning, he finds even the combination of both sadly inadequate as he screams, “Dash needs you to lay down, Gearing.”

He pauses and looks at Crème for a moment while trying to blink rapidly and sort through his thoughts. “But… She just said…?”

Crème gently pushes Gearing back more forcefully and Gearing actually yields this time as he gingerly lays back down on his side. “Gearing, you’re injured and combat ineffective right now.”

“I can still… fight…” Gearing groans in a near whine of disappointment.

Crème shakes his head as he starts laughing, “Damn she can pick’em can’t she?” He pats Gearing on his shoulder. “Gearing, I’m sure you could still kick can up and down the line. But your implants aren’t as tough as you are. We need to take them out. Replace them.”

Gearing shakes and lays his head down as he looks around with his eyes. “You got to open me up… again?”

Crème nods solemnly. “I’m afraid we do… Do you hurt anywhere, lad?”

Gearing looks around and nods lightly but it’s in a jerky motion as he seems to be at war with his very body.

“Where? Can you tell me where?” Crème asks as he looks over Gearing’s whole body.

“E- everywhere, Crème. Everything hurts. My body. My insides. My head. Even my mane. Everything,” Gearing says with a snort as he’s shaking and twitching.

The amethyst unicorn mare in the business suit scrambles over with a tray of potions and pops the top on one of them. “Here you go, sweetie.” She holds his head up in her forelegs as she uses her magic to hold the open bottle to his lips.

Crème looks at her and asks, “How soon until we’re ready?”

She looks at him and frowns. “Everyone’s on the way, but half of the needed staff aren’t even on site yet.”

She feeds him one healing potion after another, stroking Gearing’s mane and trying to comfort him as the scorch marks slowly fade and his wings continue regrowing their crystalline shapes. Even after she’s pretty sure he’s had enough to finish healing up the visible damage, she continues slowly feeding him the potions until the entire tray has been used up. It’s one of the few things he’s actually expressed the joy of tasting and, given the circumstances, she thinks he deserves any bit of joy he can get. Even if it is only in the apparently ‘minty’ flavor of a healing potion.

A yellow unicorn mare wearing a white lab coat trots in quickly from a side door. As she takes in the view she asks, “Crème, are you sure about your assessment? We shouldn’t open him up again unless it’s necessary.”

Crème points at Gearing and sighs. “Well, we won’t know for sure until we’ve opened him up and taken a look, and I’m damn sure not doing that alone… But… I’m pretty sure, yeah. Given the spell that was used, and the fact that all of his implants are no longer responding, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet. I’ve already ruled out the PipBuck itself being the problem.”

She trots over and looks Gearing over as she says with a sigh, “We knew the implants were risky… But didn’t think about this…” She looks over at Crème and scowls. “What are we doing about little miss spark grenade?”

Crème opens his mouth to says something, and Gearing draws all of their attentions as he says shakily, “N- nothing...”

The unicorn cradling his head massages his mane. “Shhh try not to talk.”

Gearing blinks his eyes rapidly for a moment then says with extreme effort, “S- she did us… m- me a favor.”

Crème looks around then walks over and looks in Gearing’s face. “What are you talking about?”

Gearing looks up at him as he shivers and shakes. “It’s- it’s good we found out n- now…” He looks around at all of them then says, “Better here… than on other side of l- line.” He smiles lightly but it’s twisted and racked with pain despite his attempt at being cavalier. “Z- zebra’s wouldn’t be so k- kind.” He lightly nuzzles the foreleg of the amethyst mare holding his head.

She smirks as she gently caresses his mane. “You’re such a flirt.”

Gearing looks at her and smiles as he closes his eyes and shakes. “H- hey! … Y- you’re the one m- molesting my mane!”

She purses her lips to the side and asks, “Want me to stop?”

“D- didn’t say that.” Gearing grins as his body shakes.

The pair of mares giggle.

Crème chuckles and shakes his head as he says, “You scoundrel.”

Gearing looks over at Crème and asks as he shakes, “Hey… Crème…”

Crème steps close. “Yeah?”

Gearing looks around and snorts a few times then asks, “H- how about a bit of that thunder hoof?”

Crème flinches and looks around before he leans in and asks softly, “Are you sure? You’re already in enough pain?”

Gearing nods shakily. “Y- yeah… Gods yeah… I’d kiss you if it’d convince you.”

The mare holding his head tilts her head and asks, “You going to just offer up kisses like that to him but not me?”

Gearing smirks and looks at her. “Got a- anything to knock me out for a while so I can s- stop shaking?”

The mare lets out a sigh and rubs his mane. “No… sorry.”

He closes his eyes and says with a shaky grin. “Well… There ya go then.” He opens his eyes and smirks. “But. If you wanted a kiss I’m sure that c- could be arranged too.” He gives her a wink.

She smirks and leans down as she puckers up to kiss him on the nose. He tilts his head up at the last second and plants one on her lips. Her eyes jump wide and he just grins wide and flops his head down on the table as he chuckles in a way that’s almost a cough. “Gotcha!”

She gives him a scowl and ruffles his mane roughly. “Oh you’re going to pay for that, buster.”

He settles down then takes a few forceful breaths before he says softly, “Hey… don’t worry… I’ve had worse. I’ll be back to stealing your mintsticks in n- no time.”

She lets out a sigh and looks around at the others before she looks down at him and shakes her head. She gives a wide smile and says, “I’ll… I’ll make sure to make a fresh batch…” She taps him on the nose with her hoof. “Just for you.”

He grins and goes limp as he nods. “I- it’s a d- date.”

She starts pulling away, then hangs her head. She turns back to look at him, and her eyes trail over his body.

He looks at her as his eyes flutter. “W- what?”

She shrugs as she grins widely. “Fuck it.” Then grabs his muzzle and gives him a deep-tongued kiss as his eyes bug out. She massages his cheek as she pulls back. “That’s not a ‘Goodbye’ kiss… understand? That’s a ‘I’ll see you later so I can tease you about it’ kiss… got it?”

Gearing nuzzles into her foreleg that’s supporting the underside of his head as he smiles lightly. “Y- yeah. I’ll s- see you… later.”

She gets up and quickly leaves, holding the door open for more medical and research personnel as they make their way into the room pushing a variety of metal boxes on carts before making good on her escape.

Crème looks after her and says softly, “I didn’t realize she felt that way about you…”

The yellow mare shrugs. “Well… no time like the present instead of living with regrets…”

Gearing shakes his head. “S- she doesn’t.” They both look at him and he chuckles. “W- we just flirt a lot…” They look at him and frown in a ‘you can’t be that dense way’. He shakes his head, even more so with his body involuntarily shaking. “W- we’re not compatible.”

Crème shakes his head. “Gearing, it’s okay to admit when you like someone… Even in this career, you need to have a normal life.”

Gearing chuckles and jumps on the bed a bit from a combination of the actions and his convulsions before he opens his eyes again and says with a sigh, “Well, if I was a mare it might be possible. But I’m kind of attached to my jewels, so it’s not happening.”

They both stare at him wide eyed and the mare points at the door and asks with her head low to Gearing, “You mean she’s…?”

Gearing nods and smirks. “Yeah… We flirt a lot because we both know nothing’s going to come of it… It’s… nice… s- safe… Don’t have to worry about it getting us hurt.”

Crème shakes his head. “Lad, if something happens to you, she’s still going to hurt.”

The mare keeps looking at the door but her eyes dart down to Gearing’s eyes. “What was with that kiss, then? You guys practice with each other or something?”

Gearing’s eyes go a bit wider. “That was a n- new surprise. I’ll admit.” The mare opens her mouth to say something, but Gearing looks at Crème and asks, “So… how about it, Doc? Gonna keep teasing me with that nap or go ahead and knock me the fuck out?” Crème looks at him and his shoulders sag. Gearing waves a hoof at him weakly. “Come on, D- doc. I’m- I’m dyin’ here.”

Both Crème and the yellow mare’s eyes shoot wide and Gearing partially deflates as he sighs and stops trying to move any more. “M- maybe poor choice of w- words… Maybe n- not.” He looks over at Crème and a smile crosses his muzzle as he asks, “Gonna make me beg?”

The mare jumps back away from Gearing. Gearing’s eyes open wide then he closes them as he grins. “Ouuu prettyyAAAGGHH!” He lets out a short sharp scream and falls silent almost instantly as the bolt of electricity strikes him, along with Crème’s forehoof, on his head. By the time the daylight bright flash of light has subsided his twitching has even stopped completely as he goes unconscious.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Footnote: Internal component 05 not responding. . .

Internal component 06 not responding. . .

Prioritizing Emergency Reboot Protocol. . .

Author's Note

The odyssey of a joke gone wrong continues with this chapter, along with revealing a bit more of Gearing's place in the world during the war, and other's that were with him. There's also a few things, and ponies, that directly correlate with things that are happening in the present. But those questions will be answered in later chapters. Again, I hope this format is working for everyone.

Thanks again for all of the help I've been offered and given so far during this project. It's truly appreciated!

As always, comments, questions, and critiques are welcome and encouraged!

-Quillsy

23 Some Assembly Required

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next time Gearing opens his eyes in the facility, he finds himself floating in the air face down, with his wings partially stretched out and suspended at his sides, as a variety of machines go about their business of beeping. He blinks a few times then groans as he tries to move, but the suspension field, of course, is also restricting his movements.

“Hey. Who’s around?” Gearing calls out as his face is still directed towards the ground.

From his limited perspective, a pair of hooves trot over in front of him before the mare asks, “How are you feeling?”

Gearing groans a bit and relaxes again after trying to move. “Like an Ursa Major just sat its fat ass on me.”

The mare giggles and she stoops down to look up at him eye to eye. It’s a new face, very pale green and younger than most, but, from her eyes, very intelligent. The horn helps point in that direction too. “That’s quite… descriptive… Vivid imagery… You read a lot?”

Gearing smirks. “Lot of hours in the day to be filled when there’s nothing else to do.”

“Aaaand a cryptic response… Hmmm.” She grins widely and asks, “Anywhere in particular hurt more than anywhere else?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and lets his eyes roam around. “I can’t really tell. I hurt if I try to move at all. But the fields got me pretty immobile, so I can’t test and find out for sure where.”

She lays down and looks up at him so he can see her better. “Yeah…” She shakes her head slowly. “You’re a challenge to work on. We… kind of have to take you apart to work on you… We can’t drop the field until we’re sure everything’s going to stay where it’s supposed to be.”

Gearing lets out a groan. “Yeah. I remember… Not like a scalpel would just cut through my plates and gears.”

She shakes her head lightly. “Nope… but… we’ve improved our technique. So you should be ready soon.” She reaches up and boops him on the nose with a forehoof. “All of the data from the practice runs of putting you back together after your escapades in the field has helped that.”

“Oh…” Gearing chuckles. “So getting blown up has more perks than just getting to meet the cute staff?” He partially closes an eye as he gives her a crooked grin.

Her eyes flash wide as she flushes lightly. She coughs into her hoof as she looks off to the side, but then looks up at him with just her eyes. “I see their ‘exaggerations’ about you weren’t so… exaggerated…” Her eyes start trailing down his body as she looks at what functions as his pelt.

“Hey! Hey!” Gearing yells as his eyes go wide. “That’s sexual harassment, young lady!”

The unicorn flushes and her eyes go wide as she eeps out, “I- I-“

“Yeah!” a familiar voice comes from nearby. “So don’t go trying to steal my bit!”

The amethyst unicorn mare in the business suit plops down, laying next to her, and nudges her in the side as she asks, “Enjoying the view? Eh? Eh? Eh?”

The younger mare pales then hops up and scampers away. “That’s not what I was doing!”

The mare at Gearing’s face giggles as she watches the other mare run away. “Why not? I’ll join you!” She turns her head back sideways, and blatantly stares at Gearing’s underside before looking up at him with a grin behind her glasses.

Gearing smirks then looks in the direction the other mare had run off to. “She’s cute, why not go after her?”

She waves a hoof in her general direction without looking. “Nah, she’s straight.”

Gearing scrunches his lips to the side before he asks, “How you know?”

She grins and puts her hooves up by her ears and starts turning them like dishes. “Gaydar. A finely tuned machine to distinguish which flank is for me. And which flank is just to appreciate from afar.” Her grin just gets wider as her green eyes practically sparkle in self amusement.

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head ever so slightly, about as much as the field would allow him. “So to what do I owe the honor of the visit? Or,” he grins widely, “You just here to take in the view and ravish me while I’m all helpless.” He gives his head a bit of a shake and chuckles as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly as he finishes.

She puts a hoof to her mouth as she looks him over and ponders. “Oh you just would have to go and put that idea in my head, wouldn’t you?” She stands up as she starts gently touching his sides. “Where’d they open you up at?”

Gearing lets out a long sigh. “Not sure, he knocked me out shortly after you left. Bless him.”

She starts gently pushing on the plates and gears along Gearing’s side, listening for his light grunts as she probes going down his left side to his flank, then doing the same on his right side. As she’s pressing into his chest and underside she says softly, “Looks like they came in from both sides…”

Gearing lets out a groan. “Yeah… Seems like it-” His eyes go wide and he asks, “Wha- what are you doing? Applemint?”

She giggles as she slides under him, and slowly rises to press her back into his underside as she nuzzles the side of her cheek up his chest until she’s arched her back enough that they are cheek to cheek. “Just checking on your tummy…” She starts rocking side to side, rubbing her back along his underside and wiggling her flank against his abdomen. “And… Like I told the filly… Harassing you is my job, and if she’s not going to do it right then she shouldn’t be.” She dramatically shakes her flank one way. “Trying.” She shakes it the other way. “At” Again to the other side. “All!” she wiggles it around against him and slides back a bit.

Gearing groans then closes his eyes as he chuckles. “Oh damn… I’m in trouble.”

“Uh huh!” Applemint giggles. “Poor Gearing… unable to do anything… except hang out here.” She rocks back a bit and lets out an approving moan towards his ear.

His eyes jump wide open as he feels her flank press into him. He looks around and huffs a few times as he asks, “Since we’re on the topic of sexual harassment and awkwardness… want to explain that kiss?”

She pulls around and looks him in the eye as she grins widely. “Wellll…” She reaches up and rubs her hoof over his cheek as she continues, “I’d been thinking about it quite a bit… and… just seemed like as good a time as any.” She reaches up and kisses his nose then looks him in the eyes as she wiggles her eyebrows. “I was honestly a bit surprised at how dexterous your tongue was… gave me a few other ideas on how to properly put you to use.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he stares down his muzzle at her and she disappears from his sight again back under him.

“Mmmhmm… New things to enjoy… When the universe is just dangling a carrot in front of you like that… it would be a tragedy not to… take a taste,” she says with a giggle before turning her head and performing a disappearing act with the one part of Gearing’s body he is all too conscious of at the moment..

Gearing twitches and his eyes bug out as he asks in a startled voice, “Whoa! H- hey! I mean a good tease is one thing, but I thought you were interested in mares?” He shivers and shakes as he lets out a groan, “We… we sat in your office looking at Wingboner and critiquing flanks while munching on mintsticks!”

“Mmmhmm,” she says rudely with her mouth full. She pulls back and looks at his totem to stallionhood. “Yeah? And you never noticed my hooves moving under the desk while looking at your flank?” She tilts her head as she licks her lips. “You know… you don’t taste like I’d expect you to.” She starts giving him a couple long licks then smacking her lips together. “I’d expect something more… Metallic. Not like blood but like a gold coin or something… you’re… It’s… it’s almost like a type of mint…” She takes another full gulp before she raises an eyebrow. “It’s a mint like I’ve never tasted before?”

Gearing, unable to do much more than joke at the moment asks, “What? Never heard of the Gearing Mint where I was stamped into service?”

She gives a giggle then turns around and climbs under him again so she can rub against his chest and rub her cheek against his. “Gearing Mint… I like that…” She gives his cheek a lick. “Delicious Gearing Mint.” She starts rocking her flank against his abdomen again as she kisses and licks his neck.

“A- Applemint… what are you doing? Really?” He lets out a frustrated snort and asks, “You’re not just trying to make me feel better or keep my mind off this are you?”

She frowns and reaches her hoof up to give his mane a rough rustle with her cheek still pressed against his. “I’m doing this because I’m rather annoyed at you right now.”

Gearing smirks and chuckles. “Okay… that makes sense… almost.”

She lets out a sigh and looks at him. “A little birdy told me that you said I was just a mare muncher.”

Gearing looks at her sideways. “Well… I just said it too… And you seemed to agree … sooo.”

She holds up a hoof and taps him on the nose. “No… what you just said was that I was interested in mares… What they said was that you’d said I was only interested in mares.”

Gearing looks at her a moment and raises an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

Gearing’s eyes go wide. “O- oh! You…. You mean you’re…?”

She nuzzles his cheek and giggles. “An equal opportunity lover? Yup!” She gives him a mischievous grin as she starts slowly sliding under him. “And I couldn’t help myself with your gorgeous ass in the workshop all the time.” She starts rocking her flank ever so slowly side to side as she backs up and presses her back into his underside. “You’re so big and stroooong… And I’d imagine you just stepping over me like this…” She straightens up and arcs her back against him as she says softly, “See.. you’re so tall I fit right under you…” She shakes her flanks a bit more as she slowly backs up. “And I could just imagine you pushing me against my computer desk… And I wouldn’t be able to move. And you could just hold me there with your big strong muscles.” She nuzzles his chest and leg as she starts shaking her flank back and forth against him with each word. “And. Just. Pound. My. Poor. Little. Pussy. All. Night. Looooong.” She arcs her neck, reaches up, and gives his chest kisses as she says, “And all I’d be able to do… is lay there. With you holding me down and nothing else to do but enjoy it.” She lets out a long groan of approval as she closes her eyes and visualizes it herself.

Gearing’s ears whistle and he has a hard time trying to say anything as he’s trying to figure out how to talk again.

She lets out a bit of a sigh and giggles as she nuzzles him. “We made an agreement a while ago… If things ever got pushed too far to say something…” She giggles and nuzzles his neck. “I haven’t tapped out…”

Gearing’s eyes jump around then he lets out a long groaning sigh as he feels her slowly press against him. “Yeah… And… uh… I don’t recall ever saying ‘when’ either.”

She stretches up just enough to look at him sideways and grins. “You like my mintsticks.” She reaches up and licks the underside of his chin. “How about sticking some mint?”

His eyes go wide and he stares at her maintaining hard eye contact as long as he can. She grins back, and slowly sinks backwards before her eyes jump open with an explosive grin. They both grunt at the same time.

“Oh gods I’ve been wanting this!” She keeps rocking back against him as she slowly lowers her head to the ground, arching her back, and pressing into him as much as possible. Applemint, doing all of the work and enjoying every minute of it, giggles as the suspension field holds him firmly in place for her to rock back against and into.

When she finally finishes, collapsing to the floor in a twitching heap, she slowly crawls forward, and rolls over onto her back to look him in the eyes. She grabs his face with her hooves and gives him another deep tongued kiss as she slowly comes down and repeatedly twitches.

As she’s pulling back, and keeps her face not far from his, she says softly, “I’m sorry… I went too far this time.” She brushes her eggplant purple mane out of her eyes with a hoof and fixes her glasses back into their normal spot as they’d almost fallen off.

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head as much as he can. “I’m not complaining, trust me.”

She sits up and wraps her hooves around his neck. “I just… I’m just tired of living with regrets…” She shakes her head and pulls into him tighter as she moans. “This whole damn war’s one big meat grinder.”

Gearing tries to nuzzle her but can’t so he gives her a slight lick on the cheek before he says, “The war will end eventually. We’ll win. And afterwards we can put that whole mess behind us.”

She lets out a sigh and pulls back as she looks him in the eyes. “But, how many will be left by that point? The tree’s already got so many leaves on it already…”

Gearing gives a grin and wiggles his eyebrows. “Well, I’m not going anywhere… Have you met me?”

She giggles and shakes her head. “Yeah. Every part of you now.” His ears whistle louder and she giggles as she kisses him again. She lets out a sigh and nuzzles his muzzle as she says softly, “I’m transferring.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he asks, “Not because of me, is it?”

She shrugs. “In part.” She reaches up and taps him on the nose. “We all need to work harder. If you can pull through what you’ve just been through, the rest of us need to step up our game too.” She looks off to the side and sighs. “We need to keep improving on the equipment.” She reaches up and taps him on his shoulder. “Like your implants.” She shrugs. “We thought we were getting close to mass implementation, but this turn of events is throwing us back to the drawing board. Not only do we need to make sure they’re compatible with organic flesh, without burning it or setting off nerves, we have to make sure if the device fails that it’ll do so…” She waves a hoof around trying to think of a word and eventually just mutters, “Elegantly… or at least better than what happened to you.”

Gearing’s eyes jump around and he asks with a groan, “Did they just put more of the same back in me?”

She shakes her head. “No, we’d actually been working on arcano-tech hardened ones for you anyway. These are definitely a massive improvement over the others. But, we weren’t planning on even talking to you about switching them out until much later. The process is so risky...” She frowns and looks off to the side. “Yours getting burnt out kind of forced an accelerated time table.”

She pulls away and uses some nearby cloths to clean them both up with her magic as she slowly walks around him. She tosses them in a linen hamper and shakes her head lightly. “It’s been fun, Gearing…” She starts walking away as she says over her shoulder. “Look me up after the war.”

“Hey,” he calls after her. She turns and looks him over and lets out a sigh as she obviously hopes he’s not going to say anything to make this harder than it already is. “Better keep up practice with that mintstick recipe.” He gives her a large grin eliciting a smile and a light nod from her, even though he couldn’t really see it. “And, could you send Crème in? I need to talk to him like yesterday.”

She nods and quickly heads out of the door.

Crème walks through the same door a few moments later and comes trotting over to Gearing, “Applemint said you needed something?”

Gearing looks over at him and tries to nod, but, of course, can’t. “I have an op that needs done.”

Crème looks around then walks closer as he asks, “What? You change your mind on that security officer?”

“No.” Gearing groans. “I’m still sure it was an accident. She seemed as shocked about the turn of events as I was.”

Crème shakes his head. “Then what?” He stoops down so he can look him in the eye easier.

Gearing looks Crème over and asks quietly, “You haven’t informed anyone about all of this, have you?”

Crème flinches and rubs his forehoof against his upper foreleg. “I was… actually hoping to pawn that off on you.” He gives a sheepish grin. “I like my head on my shoulders and don’t want Dash bucking it off.”

“What about the castle?”

Crème looks at him and slowly shakes his head. “Captain’s sworn the others to secrecy while this is all being sorted out. The only ones that know anything for sure is the nurse, the captain of the jail guard, and, to a lesser extent, some of the jail staff… None have talked, we’re sure.”

Gearing nods and lets out a sigh. “Okay… Here’s what I need.”

Crème pulls out a notepad and gets ready to write, but ends up dropping it in shock almost the instant Gearing opens his mouth again.

“I need this event to disappear,” Gearing says grimly. Crème looks at him with a raised eyebrow and Gearing continues, “First it’s a security leak that exposed our weakness. The only reason it happened was because of my implants, or I’d still be back behind bars. They’re good ponies. They won’t stop digging until they find out what went wrong. That’s the problem.” Gearing lets out a sigh. “They need to have their memories altered. All of them… Except the security officer… leave her to me.”

Crème picks up his notepad and quickly starts scribbling. “And… internal documents?”

“I said ‘disappear’, Crème,” Gearing says with a huff.

Crème looks around and runs a hoof through his mane. “I- I don’t know if we can do that, Gearing. You’re not in charge of the ministry.”

Gearing lets out a deep frustrated snort before he says with a hiss, “This was supposed to be a joke! Do you have any idea what would happen with Dash and Pinkie if they found out about this? They’re both stressed enough as it is, that’s why we did this.” He stares at Crème in the eyes and says flatly, “If they find out their joke nearly killed me, it’ll break them. Pinkie’s hair’s already going gray from the stress and the only reason you’re not seeing the bags around Dash’s eyes is she keeps zipping around all the time and not giving anyone time enough to really look at her.”

Gearing forces his eyes closed and practically begs. “Crème, we can’t afford for the heads of two of our strongest ministries to be distracted by this bullshit. If you want to keep something official, just keep it locked away until after the war. We have plenty of documents in that area of the archive. She’s not likely to just stumble across it… just… just don’t volunteer it and make sure no one else can mention it either.”

Crème looks at him and asks softly, “Want your memory wiped too? Given what you’d been through… I wouldn’t blame you.”

Gearing lets out a sigh and looks at the ground. “No… There’s things I really need to remember for this to go right.”

Crème leans over and puts a hoof on Gearing’s shoulder. “You’re a lot like her, and putting way too much on your own shoulders. You’re a good one, Gearing, but don’t break yourself.”

Gearing looks at him and smiles weakly. “Better me than her. I’m helping her shoulder her burdens. If I break under the pressure, what do you think that means is going to happen to her?”

Crème starts turning away. “I’ll get it done.”

“I’m not finished!’ Gearing yells.

Crème looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “How’d I see that coming?” He looks over at Gearing and asks, “Yeah?”

“I need to be put back as quickly as possible. Broken manacles and wing bindings included. The whole deal. We can’t let Celestia know about this either,” Gearing says with a shiver.

Crème looks at him with his eyes as wide as they can possibly go. “You want us to defraud the Princess?!”

Gearing lets out a long snort and asks, “If she finds out, Dash and Pinkie will be the next to know as she tries some kind of platitudes or sends some kind of condolences.” He shivers hard enough with his whole body that the restraining field seems to have a hard time keeping him stationary. “I’d really… really… prefer if she didn’t know… She’s the one that threw me in the cell for a simple joke. Fuck all if I know what she’d do to try and cover this up.”

Crème looks at him and shakes his head. “G- Gearing… She’d be mortified about this… She wouldn’t be vindictive…” He snorts and looks Gearing over as he raises an eyebrow. “I know you’ve always been skittish around her. Royalty. I understand that. But you’ve entirely misjudged her.”

Gearing lets out a grumble and says, “Really? Did you miss the ‘imprisonment without trial’ for standing still for a couple days bit? Or how about the indefinite detention aspect of that? Without Luna’s knowledge or consent to boot?”

Crème’s eye jump wide as he tries to think of something. “Well… That’s… I mean…”

“Crème!” Gearing snaps. “It’d be a gods damned scandal and we all know it! Her throwing a military member in jail for a joke, and him almost getting tortured to death as a result the same day? Not even the Ministry of Image could swing that one into a positive light.” He swallows hard and grumbles, “Not without throwing me under the bus as some kind of monster that deserved it anyway…”

Crème trots over and looks at Gearing in the eye. “That wouldn’t happen. Dash wouldn’t let it.”

Gearing looks at Crème and narrows his eyes. “How about we just do as I said and make the whole damn event disappear and nopony will have to worry about it!”

Crème hangs his head as he looks around. He bobs his head and finally shakes it. “Fine… Fine… We can get you back there tonight and I’ll have all of the personnel on staff gather in the clinic and we’ll take care of everything there…” He looks at Gearing and asks, “Any idea what I should replace their memories with?”

Gearing chuckles as he looks at the floor. “Yeah… Make them creeped out by my staring contest… If they complain about it enough maybe it’ll get me out sooner.”

Crème chuckles. “Yeah… it’s something you’d do too.” He taps on Gearing’s shoulder. “Hang in there.”

Gearing starts laughing. “Oh… Now you got jokes too huh, Doc?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Silver Aura stumbles out of her bedroom with an empty glass and wine bottle hovering in front of her as she heads towards her apartment’s small kitchenette. Most of the world may be asleep, but she’s just getting started. She pulls open a variety of cabinets after setting the bottle and glass down on the island’s countertop. She rubs her face and blinks her puffy bloodshot eyes as she moans, “I can’t be out, can I?”

“You always drink yourself stupid when you have work in the morning, or is this a special circumstance?”

She spins around and sees Gearing sitting on the other side of the island holding and looking at the empty bottle she’d laid down on it. She trails her eyes over his blue pelt and the thick trench coat he’s wearing as she slowly sinks to the floor on her rear and leans back against the counter near her refrigerator.

“Y- you a ghost?” she asks weakly.

Gearing sets the bottle down and shakes his head. “You can take that off your conscience.” He gives a grin and tilts his head as he wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ve had worse from those actually trying to kill me.” He waves a hoof at her and leans on the counter with the foreleg of the other. “That sucked for sure. But I’m alive.” He opens up his trench coat and shows his body covered in tightly bound healing bandages.

She smiles lightly and starts crying again as she nods. “Here to… finish it then?” She looks around and asks as she waves a hoof, “Can I at least finish getting drunk first?”

Gearing shakes his head and pulls out a bottle from inside of his coat as he holds it up. “In a manner of speaking… but not how you’re probably thinking.” He pops the top and starts pouring a glass slowly. “See… I need your help with something.” He looks at her as he sets the bottle back up, then pushes the glass towards her.

She looks at it for a few moments then shrugs. “Drink poison? Sure. That works. I deserve no less.”

The glass glows with her magic and starts to rise, but Gearing grabs it and pulls it out of her magic field. “Oh no. Uh uh. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

She looks at him and her lip quivers. “I- I didn’t mean it… please… if you’re going to kill me. Just… just do it.” She starts crying hard as she throws a hoof around and looks at the pictures along her wall. Her eyes pause on a picture of her posing with another unicorn mare as they lean sideways into each other and stick their tongues out at the camera. “I screwed up. I know… I’m sorry.” She roughly rubs her face with her hooves before she pushes her silver mane back out of her eyes and looks at him. “I’ve fucked everything up.”

Gearing looks at her and slides the glass towards her as he shakes his head. “Well. That’s part of what I need from you.” She looks at him with her head sideways on her shoulder and stares at him as she tries to figure out his angle through her drunken stupor. “I need you… To live… And pretend nothing happened.”

She blinks a few times then crawls over to the counter and pulls herself up so she’s hanging there by her forehooves and her chin is just barely peeking over the lip of the island’s counter. “Excuse me?” Her purple amethyst eyes, while being bloodshot, clearly display her confusion.

He gives her a wide grin and snickers, “Can’t, no excuse for ya.” He reaches over and messes up her already messy silver mane with his hoof. She clinches her eyes, expecting a strike, but is left even more confused as he’s being annoying, but very gentle. He leans across the counter and rests on his right elbow as he points at her. “Here’s the deal…” He traces his focus over her features and says softly, “As of about now… you’re the only one that’s left of the detention security team that actually knows what all happened.”

Her eyes go wide and she hiccups as she asks, “D- didja already kill everypony else?”

Gearing lays his head down on his folded hooves on the counter and looks at her at almost eye level. “Nope. They just don’t… remember things the same as you do…”

She looks around and asks softly, “Memory manipulation? On royal guards?”

Gearing bobs his head around. “When it has to be done, it has to be done.”

She looks around and asks with a sniffle, “Why can’t I have my memory wiped? Why can’t I be allowed to forget what I’d done? Nopony else did anything bad, and they get to forget it all.”

Gearing tilts his head sideways. “Because we need you.”

She looks at him and her ears perk up for a moment before she asks, “Who’s ‘we’?”

Gearing shrugs and waves a hoof around. “Equestria, really. All of it.”

She frowns and stares at him. “I’m not that important of a filly.”

He reaches over and taps her on the nose. “What about Dash, Pinkie, and Celestia?”

Her puffy eyes jump wide open. “What about them?”

Gearing shrugs and throws a hoof around. “It wasn’t your fault. That’s why I’m not mad and it’s why we’re having this conversation… here… instead of… not here.”

Her eyes dart around as she tries to figure out how he’d gotten in and stayed out of view. Not to mention the strong possibility that he’s not alone. “And?”

Gearing folds his hooves again and says flatly, “The thing I was carrying is what caused the damage. It just had…” He waves a hoof and looks off to the side as he says with a sigh, “A bad reaction with the spell you used… that’s all... But.” He raises his hoof in the air before lowering it to point at her nose. “What do you think would happen, if Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Princess Celestia found out that somepony almost died because of a prank they were apart of?”

Her eyes jump wide and she looks around as she tries to think of the possibilities. “Celestia would be crushed. Dash… I don’t know so much, but Pinkie seems to live for parties and pranks, that’d just… gut her.”

Gearing nods. “So. Because of that… We’re going to forget this whole thing happened.”

She blinks a few times then asks, “I thought you said you’re not removing my memories.”

Gearing shakes his head. “We’re not… And despite strong counsel to the contrary, I’ve opted to keep mine as well.”

Her eyes go wide as she asks in horror, “Why?! With what you’ve been through-“

She stops as Gearing raises a hoof and glares at her. “You don’t have to tell me what I’ve been through… You don’t even know all of it.” He pulls the coat back again and shows his bandages. “But we both need to know… so we can do what needs to be done.”

She looks around and asks as her ears lay back, “What is it? I’m not going to betray the Princesses.”

Gearing chuckles and waves it away. “I’m not asking you to betray her, I’m asking you to help her.”

She tilts her head and asks with ever narrowing eyes, “How?”

Gearing folds his hooves again and rests his head on them. “Tomorrow when you go into work. Nopony else will remember what’s happened… Don’t bring it up… Ever… understand?” She nods lightly. “You’ll find me in the same jail cell, and you’ll find your ledger is missing your notes on me… Come down to the jail, do your normal thing, announce you’re intentions… then blast me with your magic again.”

Her eyes shoot to their widest and she shakes her head. “I- I can’t do that… not again.”

Gearing raises a hoof. “I’ll be fine… and… if not…” He chuckles morbidly. “Somepony’s really fucked up and this time someone at the hospital’s in a lot of trouble.” He reaches over and taps on the countertop. “Then demand I turn over the items in question. I’ll tell you no… and present a document. Write down in your ledger ‘Security deferred’… Hear me? This is important… Security. Deferred.”

“Security deferred,” she mindlessly repeats.

Gearing nods. “Then go through the standard process from that, and answer everything as you normally would. Don’t lie. Don’t try to cover anything up.”

“And… What if they ask about you getting injured and everything else?” she asks quietly.

Gearing shakes his head. “They won’t.”

“But what if,” she asks with near panic as her purple amethyst eyes enlarge.

Gearing looks her over for a moment then shrugs. “Then tell them you’ll have someone to talk with them about it soon. Go to the clinic and put my serial number into the medical terminal. Once Crème gets there, refer the individual to Crème.”

She looks at Gearing, exploring his face as she asks, “That’s it?”

Gearing nods. “Yup. If anyone asks, there’s been a leak somewhere, and Crème will take care of it. Beyond that.” He waves a hoof around. “Go about your business as usual.”

She looks around and asks, “And… then I’m free to go? No creepy midnight visits? No ‘unfortunate accidents’? No,” She looks at the bottle. “Poisoned wine?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nope.” He grins and rolls his eyes. “I don’t typically make these kinds of personal visits… It’s a bit too… open. But this is a special circumstance.”

She nods as she looks around. “I bet you don’t normally have to worry about crumbling the morale of three heads of state simultaneously either…”

Gearing nickers. “Yeah. That’s the damn truth.”

She looks him over then looks at the wine. “Want a glass?”

Gearing looks at her and holds the bottle up. “Are you asking so I’ll drink some so you can make sure it’s not poisoned?”

She looks at the bottle then at him and gives a sheepish grin and shrugs. “Maybe.”

He sets the bottle down and leans on the counter sideways. “Even if I did, you’d still be worried about it, because there’s always the possibility that I’d taken the antidote before hand.”

She frowns and looks at the bottle. Hard. “Filly, if I wanted you dead. You would be… okay?”

She looks at him and narrows her eyes. “Not if you need me to do this tomorrow, it could be a slow acting poison.”

Gearing grins at her and actually sends a shiver up her spin. “Then I would have left the poisoned bottle in the cabinet, and not come out until after I’d made sure you drank some already.”

Her eyes go wide and she looks over at the other bottle.

He reaches over and gently ruffles her mane then trails it around to cradle her cheek. “Nopony’s going to hurt you. Not if I have any say in the matter… and trust me… I have a lot of say in the matter.”

She sniffles and looks side to side before she asks, “Then... why won’t you drink any?”

He pulls his hoof back and frowns. “Did you forget what I actually look like already?”

She tilts her head and looks at his blue pelted face. “I’m not that drunk. I’m looking right at you.”

He chuckles. “No… I mean… really look like…” He raises a hoof to himself and says, “I looked like this before you hit me with the illusion canceling spell, remember?”

Her eyes go wide as she thinks it through. “You- you can’t be a protectapony.”

Gearing’s eyes narrow and he lets out a very obviously annoyed snort. “I’m not. I just fucking look like one apparently.”

She looks him over for a moment, then asks softly, “Can... can I see then? You? The real you?”

Gearing looks around and lets out a sigh. “It typically causes problems. Way too many questions… but… if you’re going to cooperate, and keep everything quiet… okay.”

She nods quickly as she peeks up at him from the other side of the counter.

He smirks, then shrugs as he says, “Okay.” And a moment later the illusion fades into him and he stares grinning at her with his metallic face. He pulls off the trench coat and sets it on the island as he walks around to show himself. He fans out his wings, with the green and blue hues cascading around him and his entire torso wrapped tightly in bandages. He strikes his standard pose and even gently raises his forehoof nearest her as he shows off his profile. “Enjoying the view?”

She flops over sideways then crawls towards him as she stares at him. “No way…” She looks him over and gently raises a hoof to his shoulder. She trails it up his neck, and near his muzzle she carefully feels his mechanical jaw.

Gearing sighs and says, “Here… close your eyes for a second.” She does and he turns towards her and gently nuzzles his cheek and neck along hers, causing her to shiver. “With your eyes closed you should be able to feel the difference easier.”

She nods lightly then looks at him as she pulls back. “H- how did you end up like this?” She reaches up with a hoof and starts rubbing it over his cheek and down his neck as she wonders just how much this stallion had sacrificed for Equestria. He’s already willing to bear the burden of his own torture, as unintentional as it was, for the sake of everypony else. With little to no thought on the matter. What he had already been through to make that such an easy decision to make, she can only speculate on. She lets out a sigh as she slowly drifts her eyes to the floor. “Can’t tell me, can you?”

Gearing shrugs. “It’s a long story anyway.”

She smiles weakly then grabs the bottle and the glass with her magic as she asks, “So… you going to help me drink this? Or doom a poor mare to a string of bad decisions and hangovers?”

Gearing looks at the bottle and frowns. “If you really want... but it’d be wasted on me.”

“Pffft… right.” She starts taking a sip and her eyes go wide as she looks down at the glass. “Hey, this is pretty good!”

Gearing snickers. “I had some help picking it out for you. Your favorite brand’s a bit too conspicuous for us to just grab a bottle. But this has a similar profile apparently.”

She smacks her lips some and looks at the bottle. “You saying this is cheaper but tastes the same?”

Gearing shrugs. “Basically. That’s what they told me.”

She fills her glass then offers it to Gearing. “Here… You drink some too… or I’m going to end up drinking all of this bottle as well.”

Gearing looks at the bottle as she takes a swig straight from it. “I don’t think you should be trying to pound that like you are.”

She giggles and waves the glass at him. “Well… drink up… Otherwise I’m just an alcoholic that’s making bad decisions…”

Gearing looks at her and frowns, then snatches the bottle from her. “I brought this as a peace offering and to show you I wasn’t mad. Now you’re going to make me feel like a douche for drinking it all myself.”

She waves a hoof at him and giggles. “Oh you couldn’t possibly.” She carefully sips on her cup then holds it to the side as she regards him with a growing smile.

He rolls his eyes then swirls around the bottle looking at it’s mostly full status. He tops her glass off then says with a grin, “I think that’s enough for you.” Then puts the end in his mouth and holds it there with his teeth as he tilts his head back and starts slamming the whole remainder of the bottle.

She stands there wide eyed, swaying slightly, as she watches the bottle ‘blub’ as air bubbles trail up the center and the liquid level quickly drains lower and lower until it finishes with a loud ‘bloop’.

He pulls the bottle away and grins at her as he shakes it at his side. “You were saying?” He leans over and holds the bottle high in the air, before setting it down forcefully onto the kitchen island.

She giggles as she watches him and her face flushes. “Hits ya kinda hard and quick… don’t it?”

He shakes his head a bit then sits down and grins at her. “Eyup!”

She sips the glass, ever so regularly as her eyes trail over his body. She finishes the last quarter of it with a loud gulp and slaps the glass down next to the empty bottle as she lets out a loud long satisfied ‘aahhhhh’. “Good stuff!”

Gearing nods hard and his head wavers a bit. “Eyup... thaz wad they thed.”

She giggles and wobbles closer to him. “I… I thought you said it’d be wasted on you.”

Gearing nods. “Eyup… wad gift for yoouu.”

She crawls over and pulls herself up by her forehooves as she looks up at him. “You promise you’re not mad at me?”

“Eyup.” Gearing nods hard. “Not mad.”

She wraps her forehooves around his foreleg and chokes, “Y- you’re really not going to kill me?”

He shakes his head and ends up wobbling. “Nnnnope.” He reaches down, wraps his hooves around her chest and pulls her up towards him as he slowly rocks her. “Weren’t your fault.” He roughly brushes her silver mane behind her ear and sways side to side as he pats her shoulder. “You’re a good’un. You cried when ya hurt me. Not your fault.”

She spins around and wraps her forehooves around his neck. “Oh gods I’m so sorry. It hurt… didn’t it? It hurt a lot?”

Gearing looks at her a moment then lets his head dip hard again. “Hurt lika sonovabitch... eeyup.”

“Will you ever forgive me?” She trails her forehooves up to his head and pulls his cheeks so he’s looking at her and they are almost muzzle to muzzle.

Gearing nods lightly, but repeatedly. “Eyup… already have.” He grins widely as he looks at her and they maintain eye contact. “Would have, even if you weren’t so cute.”

She chuckles and snorts, and wipes her tears and nose dribble on her robes. “Cute. Me? Right…”

He nods hard. “Eyup… cute little unicorn filly. That’s… that’s you..” He reaches over and sloppily brushes her cheek. “You’re a good pony too.”

She looks him in the eyes and asks softly, “Am I? Really think so?”

Gearing nods lightly as she keeps hold of his cheeks. “Eyup… goodn’ cute… A cute good’un. Cute… and good.” He nods forcefully with the last word, at least as much as he can with her holding his cheeks in place.

She starts crying again and shakes her head. “God… you’re crazy… You big wonderful stallion you… forgiving me… now… hitting on me too?” She leans up and starts kissing him, pushing him back and digging in even deeper with the kiss.

He leans back against the wall and wraps his forehooves around her lower back as he kisses her in kind and follows her lead. After a few minutes she starts nuzzling his neck. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness…” she mumbles.

He reaches around and gives her a swat on her flank. “There… Iz spanks ya… feel better?”

She jumps a bit and her eyes go wide then she giggles. “I… I just might.” She starts running the end of her muzzle around his in loops as she asks, “Anyway I can… convince you… to stay the night?”

Gearing tilts his head and looks up at the ceiling as he thinks out loud and hums to himself. “HHmmmm” The whole time she is nuzzling, kissing, and licking his exposed neck.

“Please say yes…” she asks quietly in his ear.

He shakes his head lightly and frowns an oversized frown. “S- sorry I g- gotta get back to the jail. I- if I’m not there… things go bad… ‘kay?”

She lets out a long sigh and starts pulling back. “I can’t even talk you into some makeup romp in the hay?”

Gearing chuckles and nuzzles her neck. “Iz really gotta goooo.”

She sits back and frowns as she wipes her eyes. “I thought you said I was so cute? How can you just leave me like this then?”

He grins and leans in. “Iz can prove it, if ya want?”

She tilts her head as she looks at him. Then she shimmies her shoulders as she says softly, “Yeah… sure,” and bites her lower lip.

Gearing leans forward, massages both of her cheeks with his hooves, before trailing one on the side and cradling her face and the other around her head massaging her scalp and silver mane as he moves in and kisses her. Deep. Forceful. She ends up laying back on the floor wide eyed. The effects of the alcohol seem to exponentially grow as she quickly gets foggy headed. She wraps her forelegs around him and holds him there as she tries to reciprocate, but finds herself seriously outmatched.

He pulls back and smiles at her as he asks, “How’s that?”

The pale gray mare pants a few times then nods as she looks up at him. “O- okay.”

He leans down and gives her another kiss, just as intense, but not nearly as long, and, as he pulls back, he says softly, “Iz wouldn’t kiss someone like that, if Iz mad at them.”

She instantly bursts into tears and clamps down on him with all four legs as she wraps her neck around his. “I’m so sorry, Gearing.”

He slowly extracts himself and waves it away. “N- no worries… Remember.” He winks at her and makes a click sound with his tongue. “You got work in morning.” He starts over towards the door, wobbling and wide legged, but, as he’s grabbing for the door, he turns around and chuckles. “Whoops… forgot my jacket…” He grabs it and puts it on and starts wobbling away as he pauses long enough to activate his blue pelted illusion. He walks by and leans over, looking her in the face, as he grins widely. “Good night!” He walks over towards the door humming to himself, staggering left and right before he finally gets the door open.

He turns sideways, sees that she’s rolled over onto her belly looking at him, and gives her a big grin and a little wave of his wing before stepping out into the hallway as he locks the door behind himself.

The door opens and she peeks out, giggling as she sees him sway one way then to the other as his legs are moving all discombobulated. He turns towards the stairwell, and she sees him slip and her eyes go wide as she hears him crashing down a few of the steps. A moment later his voice cheerily comes back with a yell, “I’m okay! I’m O-kay!” and his humming fades away as she giggles and shuts the door finally.

Gearing trots down the last few steps to the ground floor as he ruffles his wings and looks around at the sleepy Canterlot neighborhood.

A stallion in a coat turned up against the night’s chill turns from looking at a nearby vending machine, walks up, and asks quietly, “So?”

Gearing looks around and says with a tone of stone cold sobriety as he speaks, “Keep an eye on her. If this alcohol problem gets any worse… just go ahead and proceed with a wipe after this mess is over.” He trots over to an awaiting bakery van as he says, “She was so distraught that she tried to get me drunk to make sure I really wasn’t mad.” The ponies inside the van giggle as they look at the variety of monitors and Gearing gets in with them. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, bastards.” He turns around to shut the door as he grumbles, “I could drink a whole distillery dry and all I’d get is the need to piss before a race.” As he’s closing it the others just laugh harder as he scowls. “Lucky shits.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Footnote: Internal component 06 not responding. . .

Prioritizing Emergency Reboot Protocol. . .

Emergency Reboot Protocol Initiated. . .

Author's Note

This chapter gives a bit more of a view, and hints, into Gearing's past, and his job, and methods of getting things done. Along with a few other characters that had / have helped shape Equestria's history and have lead to several current circumstances. Though most of that won't really be apparent for a while.

Again, thanks for all of the help with getting this story going, and keeping it going. All of the assistance and feedback has been amazingly help and motivating!

As always, comments, questions, and critiques welcome and encouraged.

-Quillsy

24 Dungeon Crawling

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All too few hours after the clandestine meeting in her apartment with Gearing, with the morning just getting started, Silver Aura enters through the detainment block’s doors and walks down the hall floating her book out in front of her. With one hoof slowly rubbing her head and face.

One of the guards chuckle and asks her as she passes, “Damn! Must have been a good night to look that haggard, huh?”

The other guard chuckles and nudges her coworker in the side with an elbow. “And this is why we save our parties for when we have days off the next day.”

Silver Aura puts a hoof to her lips and shushes them. “SShhhh there are no parties… only suffering and bad decisions.” They just snicker louder as she uses one hoof to hold her head and continues down the walkway.

She turns and peeks into the cell, and lets out a sigh as she sees Gearing laying on his belly in there, broken manacles attached to his legs, and his wings bound by restraints. Fresh restraints, with not even a hint of scorch marks. His grin and fresh face are mind boggling to her. She says loudly, “Alright let’s get this over with.” Then scrunches down as she plops down on her rear and holds her head as she used a bit too much oomph in her voice for her own head to handle. She walks up to the bars and asks softly, “How are you not hungover… you drank almost a whole bottle of that shit!”

His dark blue face just grins wider as he puts a hoof to his lips and shrugs.

She rolls her eyes and continues on with her routine at a normal volume, “Are you the one known as ‘Gearing’?”

Gearing lays there, smiling at her, with his hooves crossed in front of himself. “That’s me.”

She looks around on the ground and notices the pair of trays sitting there, and the complete lack of green shards. “Not going to eat?”

“Nope.” Gearing shakes his head.

She looks around, and at the guards down the hall, then lets out a sigh. “Well…. Gearing… Would you step over to the bars please. I need to give you an examination.”

Gearing stares back at her for a moment before he looks around and shakes his head as he asks with a large grin, “Whatever for?”

She scowls at him. “Given the information I have… I have to evaluate what kind of threat you are. Magic’s involved. So I need to remove any magics currently cast on you, and any potential items.”

Gearing nods then taps on the floor as he says, “Sorry, can’t help you.”

She looks at the guards then back at Gearing as she scowls again. “Failure to comply will result in a longer prison sentence if contraband is located.”

Gearing nods and grins. “So I’ve heard… sorry… Can’t help you.”

She lets out a sigh and looks at her book. “If you’re not going not cooperate, I’m going to have to dispel it from here.”

Gearing waves towards her. “Do what you gotta do. But I can’t help you.” He looks off to the side and puts a hoof to his chin as he says with a chuckle, “Hey, that rhymed!”

She lets out a long groaning sigh as her horn starts glowing. She stares at him, and his grin, and she slowly starts crying again. “Have it your way…” She tilts her head, obscuring her mouth from the guards at the end of the hall, and mouths silently, ‘You sure?’

He lets out a sigh then beckons her with a hoof as he whispers, “It’ll be okay.”

She closes her eyes and concentrates on the spell, then opens one eye just enough to aim correctly before she throws the burst of energy into the cell at Gearing.

He knows it’s coming. He sees it coming. He doesn’t care.

The burst of energy shoots from her horn and splashes against Gearing in an eruption of blueish twinkling lights that sparkle and fade like the last crackles of a festival fireworks display.

Gearing jerks and his eyes go wide for a moment as he yelps, “Youch!”

Her book drops as she hops against the bars and looks at him as she grabs the bars with her fetlocks. Her eyes dart all over him as she looks for the tell tale signs of cascading electricity. Or of any sign of the nightmare she’d already unleashed the day before.

Gearing waves at her and grins before he taps on the ground with one hoof. “Well darn… You’ve caught me…” He props his metallic chin up with an equally metallic hoof as he looks out at her.

One of the guards runs over to look and stares in at Gearing. “What the hell’s going on here?”

Silver Aura lets out a sigh, of immense relief, and says, “I’m going to need you to turn over whatever magical items you have that are hiding on your person that’s giving you that ability to change your appearance.”

Gearing taps on the floor and smiles. “I’m sorry… But I just can’t do that.”

The guard leans against the bars and sneers. “You trying to be a big tough guy because she’s got a hangover? I’ll teach your candy ass a thing or two.”

Gearing shrugs and starts walking over to the bars. “I mean, I’m not allowed… here.” He pulls out a piece of paper from between his manacles and his foreleg and holds it out for her to take.

Silver Aura pulls it away with her magic and quickly unfolds it.

The guard looks at it and at Gearing and asks softly, “How’d the hell he get that back here? What is it?”

She smirks as she reads it. “It’s… a declaration of a security test… It states his name, rank, and serial number and-” Her eyes bug out and she chokes as she looks at it. She trails her eyes up and asks softly, “C- Colonel?”

Gearing puts his hoof to his mouth and looks down the way towards the front door before pulling back and grinning as he nods.

Her eyes get wider and wider as she starts having a hard time breathing.

Gearing walks up to the bars and says calmly, “Just breath, hon… Just breath… Follow protocol… You know how to follow protocol, right?”

She nods quickly and backs away from him. “Y- yes sir.”

Gearing quickly raises his hoof to his lips. “Shhh… This is a test, remember.” He looks at them both and goes back and forth as he repeats. “Just. Follow. Protocol.” Then he glances at the guard and narrows his eyes. “And you keep this bit to yourself.”

She looks at the paper again and her eyes zip around as she lets out a sigh. “I… I need to verify this.” She looks to Gearing then raises an eyebrow as she says, “I’m deferring the security sweep of you until I get some answers.” She looks at the guard then nods towards Gearing. “Stay away from him, but keep an eye on him. And no guard is allowed in.”

“And?” Gearing asks with a raised eyebrow.

She snaps a look at him and scowls. “And no guards are to be left alone around him. Minimum of two at all times until this is sorted out.”

Gearing grins widely. “Thatta girl.”

She turns and leaves as the guard looks at him from a distance. “Why’s the military doing a security test here? We don’t get people down here often anyway… Who are you really?”

Gearing grins at him then his ears perk up as he looks around. “Oh! Nice! Quick reset!” He shakes himself and turns back to his dark blue pelted self before sitting back in the cell as pretty as he pleases. He grins even wider. “Nopony special. Carry on.” He waves the guard away with a smirk.

The guard turns and walks away, watching Gearing closely and muttering under his breath about being told what to do by random freaks.

A pair of guards come down and look in at Gearing, then cringe. They look at each other then at him and the buck asks, almost pleading, “Would you mind not staring at us the whole time today?”

The one next to him rolls her eyes. “Or at least blink? It’s fucking creepy.”

Gearing grins and stares at them, opening his eyes even wider. “Not like I have anything else to do in here.” He opens his eyes to their absolute fullest and plasters a smile on himself as he glares at them.

The mare shivers. “There’s that creepy ass grin again! Dammit.”

The stallion puts a hoof over his eyes. “Another shift of this bullshit.”

“At least you get to leave at the end of it,” Gearing replies.

They moan and try their best to stand there and look around, at everything except him directly, while simply trying to make sure he’s not doing anything to escape. But getting really unnerved at how he’s not doing anything.

A unicorn comes by during the middle of the day in the same robes as Silver Aura and looks at the number of trays on the ground as he asks, “Prisoner’s not eating?”

The guard groans and shakes his head. “No. Not Eating. Not Drinking… Only thing he does is sit there and stare at us all day long.”

“Night too,” the mare guard pipes up. “I heard the same complaints from night shift.”

The unicorn lets out a frowning sigh as he looks Gearing over. “I’ve been informed you have some sort of illusionary magic concealing your identity?”

Gearing directs his soul piercing stare and grin at him as he says, “You already know who I am. My identity’s already been confirmed.”

The unicorn looks around and lets out a sigh as he quickly becomes unnerved by the stare. “Well, if you keep using whatever you’re using to hide yourself, we’re not going to be able to take care of you as we won’t notice if anything’s wrong with you…”

Gearing continues staring at him with the same wide eyed visual assault. “You wouldn’t do anything either way.”

The unicorn rolls his eyes then starts walking away as he mutters towards the guards, “Don’t worry about him, he’ll eat when he’s ready.” He takes another step or two before a metal tray ends up under his hoof and he stumbles and falls sideways.

He spins around and sees Gearing’s one glaring eye aimed at him. “Oops. Maybe you should pick those up before somepony gets hurt,” Gearing’s voice comes across as monotoned and exceedingly creepy with the wide eyed smile and glare.

“Fuck you!” the unicorn says as he hops around and starts quickly going towards the door.

Gearing replies with the same monotoned voice before the unicorn gets to the doorway, “My barn door doesn’t swing that way, Mr. Horny.”

The mare guard snickers a bit but lets out a moan as Gearing’s head slowly turns back to stare at the pair of them. Her shoulders sink and she moans, “Ah dammit…”

Gearing keeps grinning and staring as he says softly, “Then there were three.”

The guards begin replacing the tray that was on the ground, and setting the older one aside within reach, but they get increasingly unnerved as the days tick by and the pile of food grows. If it wasn’t for the prepackaged nature of some of it, it’d be rotting spectacularly by this point.

In the afternoon one day, after a few days of this routine, a new, older, unicorn in Royal Guard Security administration robes comes down to the detention block and his pace cuts down as he sees the growing mountain of food near the jail cell. He looks to the other side of the hall and sees the guards are actively trying to stay away from the cell in question, and are spending more time looking everywhere but at the cell than doing anything else.

As he is passing, the mare puts a hoof out and says with a twitch in her eye, “The guy’s twigged.” She reaches up and smacks on her own helmet a few times trying to scratch at her mane and eventually lifting her helmet enough to scratch on the back of her head. “Careful… it’s… maddening to watch him for too long.”

The unicorn raises an eyebrow and continues on past her as he keeps staring at the pile of food. He turns sideways abruptly and comes face to face with Gearing. Seeing his exceptionally wide eyed stare with the oversized grin in the middle of the cell. He takes a step back and regards Gearing for a moment. His horn glows and Gearing stares at him, his smile fading for a moment as he tilts his head and starts focusing on the unicorn, and what he may be doing, but he can’t quite tell.

The unicorn sighs and shakes his head as the glow fades before he asks, “You okay in there, son?”

Gearing looks at him with his eyes wide open still. “I’ve been imprisoned without trial until further notice and the only ones that know where I am are you all…” He waves a hoof and frowns. “Instead of working I’ve been stuck here. You tell me.”

The unicorn smiles lightly and shrugs. “Well… Maybe you could use a break?”

Gearing glares at the unicorn hard enough that even the older unicorn takes a step back. “A break? I know you didn’t just try to crack a joke about indefinite detention…”

The unicorn lets out a long slow sigh and looks to the side. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Why does it matter?” Gearing snaps.

The unicorn looks over at Gearing and frowns. “You’re just here until everything’s sorted out.”

Gearing smiles widely, with the creepy oversized grin, and says mockingly with a tone of a commercial announcer, “And you too can have this fabulous prize of Freedooooom! Just bend over, kiss your ass, then mail in your request and we’ll get back with you half past neevveeeerrrrrr.”

The unicorn stares at him for a few moments longer then asks softly, “Are you intentionally trying to starve yourself to death?”

“What does it matter if you’re just throwing away the key anyway? Wanting to find out if you need to have the cardboard box for cremation ready sooner than later?” Gearing asks as he stares at him.

The unicorn glares at him. “We’re not going to let you die.” His horn flares and he grabs a small packaged loaf off the tray nearby and shoves it at Gearing’s face. “Now eat!”

Gearing stares at him, and his eyes only get wider as they stare back with pure contempt as the unicorn tries to cram the cake into his mouth after magically yanking the package off. Gearing’s lip locks in place and the unicorn only succeeds in smearing it over the left side of Gearing’s muzzle. After the unicorn has finally given up, and turned the ‘loaf’ into a pulverized mess, Gearing uses his hoof to scrape it off his muzzle and flicks it back at the unicorn as he says, “You eat it.”

The unicorn spins around and starts bucking the stone wall as he screams unintelligibly for a few minutes.

Gearing grins at him again and says, “Careful, old timer… You’re likely to break your brittle old bones doing that.”

The unicorn hops over and screams at him, “You can knock your shit off!”

One of the guard’s leans over, stares in, and grimaces as they lock eyes with Gearing. Gearing grins even wider as they stare at each other for a few moments and Gearing asks in a whisper, but more than enough for the guard to hear, “Hey… Here’s the trick to it all… Who’s guarding who?!”

The mare smacks her helmet off and starts scratching her mane as she jumps away from the prison cell so she doesn’t have to see him anymore.

The unicorn turns his head then waves his hoof at Gearing. “And stop your psychological warfare bullshit!”

Gearing looks over at him and asks, “Or... what?”

The unicorn’s hoof slowly droops and he asks, “W- what?”

Gearing grins wider. “Exactly… Stop… or what? I’m already in here indefinitely. You can’t add time to infinite.”

The unicorn looks off to the side and mutters, “Execution is always an option.”

The next moment, Gearing’s at the bars and hisses at him, “Go ahead and try it… Without proper decree from one of the Princesses? Ohh please do… It’ll be a blood bath.” Gearing grins even wider as his eyes go to their fullest and says just above a whisper, “Your blood.”

The mare moans from the next cell over as she scratches her mane, “He’s doing it again!”

The unicorn rubs both forehooves on his head as he gives a disgruntled groan. “Fine, just stay in there and starve to death for all I care!”

Gearing lets out a long trail of almost machine timed chuckles “Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh.” He tilts his head against the bars to stare at the unicorn and grins. “You don’t and we both know it.”

The unicorn starts stomping away and Gearing yells after him with a laugh, “If that’s what you’re waiting on, it’s going to take a looooooooong time… You know that right?”

The door shuts, signaling the old unicorn’s successful flight away from the taunting.

Gearing turns and looks at the stallion guard across the hall from his cell and grins as he leans against the bars. “Long time indeed… We had to learn how to get by with very little on the front… sometimes nothing for a loooong time…” He slowly steps away from the bar as he asks quietly, “So… the question is…” He asks in a mere whisper that only the stallion can hear, “Who’s going to fold first?”

The stallion backs into the cold bars of the cell across from Gearing, then yelps and turns around as he has a vivid imagination of someone trying to grab him as the cold metal touches his bare flank. He rubs his mane and quickly runs over to join his mare coworker as he grabs her helmet off the ground and he moans, “Get out of my heeaaddd!”

That evening the security officer, Silver Aura, walks in and finds the two guards a bit away and looking rather unnerved. They look at her and the mare guard motions down towards Gearing. “I think he’s cracked…” She rubs her mane with both hooves and moans, “Totally cracked.”

The stallion guard motions down towards Gearing. “I’d recommend staying away from him, but… You got a job to do… hope you don’t end up like the last couple.”

She pauses and looks at them, then down the hall. “What happened to them? Did he fight them?”

The stallion rocks his hoof side to side. “Not physically… I think that would have been easier to handle…. It’s hard to explain.”

The mare moans. “He’s got a way of getting under your skin… That stare… it’s like he’s trying to burn a hole through you.”

The security officer lets out a sigh then nods as she starts walking down towards Gearing. “I’ll be careful.”

She trots down the hallway, sees the pile of food that has been collected, and set next to the cell, with only one tray in front of it and a mound of food uneaten next to it. She peeks around the corner carefully and sees Gearing laying in the center of the cell with his forehooves crossed and looking right at her already. She jumps her eyes around a bit, then looks back at the guards that have fled to the far end of the hall near the front door but are keeping an eye on her from the relative safety of the security desk.

She lays down and tucks her legs in under herself as she looks at him. “Hello, Gearing,” she says evenly.

Gearing waves at her with a hoof before crossing it again. “Hi.”

She looks over at the food then lets out a sigh. “I’ve been told you’ve been very uncooperative.”

Gearing frowns. “I’m being very cooperative. I don’t know what right they have to complain about the situation when I’m the one stuck in here.”

She looks over at him and sighs. “You’re not eating… You’re not drinking… According to the reports you’ve never slept and you just won’t stop staring at them.”

Gearing grins. “Poor babies can’t even handle a little staring contest? My, my, my… They’d never make it on the front.”

She stares at him for a few moments before asking softly, “Are you okay? Seriously?”

Gearing looks at her and sighs. “As okay as I’m going to be in here, as my life wastes away and ponies die.”

She frowns and asks, “There anything I can do?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Celestia’s the one that’s thrown me in here… She’s the one that has to release me.” He looks over to the side and snorts. “Probably already forgotten about me with all her parties…”

She leans in closer and asks softly, “Couldn’t you… you know... just get out of here if you wanted?”

Gearing looks at her sideways then says flatly, “Yes.” He turns to face her and waves a hoof. “If I really wanted to. I could get out of this cell, and proceed to get out of the castle.” He raises a hoof. “But… I’m no traitor…” He points off to the side towards where he’s sure the guards are cowering behind the desk at the end of the hall. “And, in all likelihood, I would have to kill them, and their coworkers, and gods only know how many others to manage to escape… And, after that, I would be branded a murderer, a traitor, or worse, and marked for life. However long that is. My family would suffer. My coworkers would suffer. My commander would be shamed and many would needlessly lose their lives because of it.”

He sets his hoof back down to being neatly folded in front of himself as he says calmly, “So… the better course of action is… Waiting here until I finally rot. However long that’s going to take.”

She shakes her head. “T- that’s not why you’re here? They aren’t going to kill you.”

Gearing looks around at the stone walls that make up the cell he’s in. “Really?” He looks back at her and shrugs. “Looks like a stone coffin to me.”

Her mouth hangs open. “You can’t be serious.”

“You’re not a pegasus.” Gearing shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She beckons with her hoof. “Come on… Lay it on me… What’s so ‘pegasus centric’ that I, a mere unicorn, could never hope to comprehend?”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments then lets out a sigh. “We live in the clouds, you realize this, right?”

She shrugs. “Yeah? So?”

Gearing leans towards her. “Our very lives are connected to the sky… the wide. Open. Sky… Freedom and wide open spaces are at our core. It’s not only who but what we are.” He raises a hoof and waves around presenting his environment. “Guess what the exact opposite of that is.”

She looks around and her eyes start enlarging.

Gearing leans forward and says with a hiss, “There are a lot of pegasi that would have already committed suicide by this point of having to deal with this.”

Silver Aura looks around the dungeon, and at his food, then her eyes jump to their widest as she asks, “Y- you can’t be serious!”

Gearing waves a hoof. “You obviously don’t know many pegasi… And with the prospect of never getting out of here? Oh yeah. The number who would be willing to do it would grow rapidly the longer it is.”

She hops to her hooves and looks at him. “Y- you’re killing yourself… you’re really killing yourself… and using that illusion to cover it up!”

Gearing stares at her for a moment and lets out a disgruntled sigh. “That’s not- Just don’t worry about it. It’s not like anyone that could do anything about it actually cares.”

She gets tears in her eyes as she shakes her head rapidly. “Y- you can’t do this… it ain’t right.”

Gearing tilts his head and lets out a sigh. “Please don’t cry.” He waves a hoof around. “The universe ain’t fair. No point wasting tears on that fact. I learned that when I was a foal.”

She shakes her head. “You knew this was going to happen. But you came back anyway… why?”

Gearing gives her a warm smile. “Because it’s what had to happen. Any other way and it would cause too many problems.”

She shakes her head as she looks down at the ground. “I’ll… I’ll go have a word with Celestia. I’ll ask her to have leniency and-”

“No!” Gearing yells, cutting her off.

She looks up at him and sees him shaking. “Gearing? What’s wrong?”

Gearing shakes his head hard. “N- no. Don’t get Celestia involved!”

She smiles lightly. “I’m sure once she understands the situation she’ll get it sorted out.”

“No you don’t understand!” Gearing scowls at her. “Celestia’s the one that threw me in here in the first place! She already knows the whole situation and has simply decided. She. Don’t. Care about the clockwork!”

She tilts her head and asks, “Wha- what’s a clockwork?”

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he snaps his mouth shut for a moment before he snorts and looks off to the side. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

She looks over at the food and asks, “So, you going to eat?”

Gearing looks at her sideways and snorts. “I might as well eat the stone walls for all the good it’ll do me.”

She snorts and points at him. “You have to do something!”

Gearing looks at her and snorts back. “I don’t have to do nothing but grow old and die… Everything else is optional.”

She stomps a hoof and yells at him, “You’re insufferable!”

He gets up and walks to the back left corner as he says, “And I’m done with talking.” He spins around and sits back down in the corner, backing into the corner as tightly as he can as he just glares at her.

She looks him over and asks softly, “You- … You won’t even talk to me anymore?”

Gearing settles in, hunkering down tightly, and outright stops moving. Not even simulating breathing as he stares at the bars that make up the front of his cell.

She looks down and shakes her head. Then over at the food. Her eyes trail over it for a few moments before she turns to look at him. “I can’t allow this, Gearing. You deserve better.”

She turns and leaves and the last thing he says to her is a growling scream, “Don’t do me any favors!”

A couple hours later Silver Aura comes back with the other two unicorn security administrators. She stops in front of Gearing’s cell and looks in at him, and as she can tell, without a doubt, he hasn’t so much as moved since she left.

“Gearing? We’re here to talk,” she says softly.

He simply continues glaring in the same general direction without actually responding.

The younger unicorn stallion asks, “Is he even still alive?” He looks over at the food pile. “He’s gotta be starving by this point.”

“Gearing… come on… talk to me, please,” Silver Aura says as she looks him over.

The older unicorn growls and shakes his head. “Stubborn bastard’s probably passed out from not eating… let’s get in there and force feed him something.” One of the guards walks over to unlock the door and freezes his actions with the gush of air that hits him.

“Stay. Away. From me,” Gearing’s voice growls from his position in the corner.

The stallion guard looks in the cell then shakes his head and backs up. “Nuh uh. Not doing it.”

The older unicorn yanks the keys away. “Give me that. I’ll do it then.”

“Don’t come near me, old timer,” Gearing growls. While not so much as blinking.

The guard shivers. “Gods he just doesn’t stop that staring crap.”

The younger security officer buck lets out a sigh. “I’m pretty sure it’s just the illusion he’s using.”

The older unicorn sucks on his teeth and stares in. “I’m sick of the psychological bullshit. I’m calling your bluff!” He quickly starts unlocking it and, when the door swings open, he freezes in his tracks at the growl that greets him.

“You step hoof in this cell, and I won’t be responsible for what happens to you. Don’t be stupid. Stay. Out!” Gearing growls from the corner.

The older stallion slowly takes a couple steps back as he focuses on Gearing’s eyes and sees the serious intensity reflected in them.

Silver Aura walks over to the door and yells at Gearing through the door, “That’s fine. By. Me!” She says matching his intonation. As she steps through and closes the door behind her she waves a hoof beckoning him. “Come on… Whatever you have planned. I Deserve it… come on!” The statement doesn’t even draw a raised eyebrow from the others, as they are too focused on Gearing with the anxiety of watching a wild animal they aren’t sure when it’ll strike.

He looks at her and says softly, “No. Not you.”

She starts stomping around as she begins crying. “Why?! You’re threatening bodily harm and death on everypony else, why won’t you hit me?! I deserve it!” She stomps over and gets in his face. “Why?! Tell me why?! Take it out on me, but don’t you take it out on yourself or anypony else!”

Gearing looks up at her and says softly with a light smile, “You… You’ve tried… you’ve cared.”

She waves a hoof behind her at the others and yells in indignation, “Don’t give me that shit! We all care, that’s why we’re here!”

Gearing frowns at her then points at the others. “Sorry to inform you, but you’re oh for three on that…” He points at the older unicorn and the guard. “They told me to just starve to death, and the other one told the guards not to worry about it.”

She turns around as she balks and her eyes go wide. “Wha?!”

The guard hangs his head and looks at the other two, but is the only one to fess up. “Yeah… I did…” He look in and scowls. “I didn’t mean it though! I’d figure you’d fucking eat when you got hungry!”

Gearing looks at him and says sharply, “And I’d figured I’d get what I’d need once I was out since this ‘is only while it gets sorted out’.” He looks them over and shrugs. “Told ya she forgot about me and threw away the key… but noooo nopony would listen to me. What the hell would I know about getting screwed over for no damn reason at all.”

Silver Aura looks at the other unicorns and asks, “Well? Any word at all?”

They both shake their head and the older unicorn says, “I was just asked to try and get some basic sense of whatever magic’s working on him, but I can’t make head nor tails of it.”

The pale gray mare sits down and looks around as she tries to think through the situation. “Something’s wrong. There’s got to be something wrong with this.”

The older unicorn nods. “I must admit this is… abnormal.”

The guard waves a hoof at Gearing. “At the worst of it he should have been transferred out of here already.”

Gearing tightens up again into his defensive ball as he mutters, “Oh… and just throwing it out there… Maybe she really did just go ‘fuck Gearing’ and went on about her life?”

The younger unicorn buck stiffens up and snorts. “That’s no way to talk about the princess.”

Gearing glances at him and asks, “Which part? Cavalier attitude with somepony’s life, or apparently short attention span?”

The guard steps towards the door and waves his hoof at Gearing. “You keep that up and you’ll regret it!”

Gearing looks at him and says mockingly, “’You’ll regret it’… Tell me mud stomper… How exactly? Going to execute me? Go for it, do me a damn favor. Going to rough me up? Go for it, I need a bit of exercise and entertainment.”

The guard sneers. “Think your hot shit don’t you?”

Gearing raises a hoof and shows the broken manacle. “And you think you’re a fucking genius… but seem to have forgotten I broke the manacles thrown on me simply by stepping too far.” He snorts a few times and glares at the guard. “Stay away, for your own safety. I’m warning all of you.”

The older unicorn motions for Silver Aura to come back. “Come on… get out of there before he does something we’ll all regret.”

She shakes her head and lays down as she looks at Gearing. “He won’t hurt me.”

The younger stallion unicorn rolls his eyes. “You’re faith in his decency is both remarkable and terrifying.”

“He won’t,” She repeats. “Will you, Gearing?”

Gearing lets out a snort. “No.”

The guard raises an eyebrow as he asks, “But you’ll beat the shit out of me?”

Gearing glances over at him and says flatly, “Bad enough mood I might accidentally kill you actually… so stay. Out.”

“Gearing!” Silver Aura hisses. “That’s enough!”

The guard takes a step back and looks around. “Threatening to murder a royal guard is a high offense.”

“I didn’t threaten you, dumb ass. I simply said what might happen… it’s like somepony telling you not to step into a fire because you might get burned… If you do it anyway, it’s your own damn fault,” Gearing grumbles.

Silver Aura shakes her head then looks over at the others. “Our job is the safety and well-being of everypony involved with those coming through. Those brought to us have their care entrusted to us, by Celestia and Luna.” She shakes her head. “This situation is having profound effects on him and, I believe, he’s suffering from mental degradation from prolonged isolation.”

She turns back to look at and regard Gearing for a moment as she says, “I do not believe it would be wise to leave him alone any further.”

The guard groans and rolls his eyes. “Come on. He creeps me the hell out. Just look at that stare!”

She shoots him a scowl and repeats with scorn, “Yes… ‘just look at that stare’… Thank you for proving my point!” She looks over at the older unicorn and shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s handling this well, despite how he appears.”

The older stallion looks at her then waves a hoof towards Gearing. “What do you expect me to do?”

She shakes her head then rolls her eyes before waving it towards him. “How about you find out why he hasn’t been transferred out yet? How about that?!”

The older unicorn stallion looks between them and says softly, “Luna and Celestia’s been gone for days tending to matters of state. I’m not sure when they’ll be back and-”

He’s interrupted by the growing rumble of laughter from Gearing. They all turn to stare at him and he points a hoof at the old unicorn as he looks at Silver Aura. “Ohhh told ya! I fucking told you…” He folds his hooves in front of himself as he asks, “Going to give me some bullshit about how this is just ‘a big misunderstanding’ still?”

She balks and her head whips back and forth. “It is! It truly is!”

Gearing points at her. “Do us both a favor. And just shut. Up. About that bullshit. Okay? Because so far you,” He waves a hoof at all of them. “Are coming across as blatant liars, and… really... It’s insulting to my intelligence when the evidence is quite. Fucking. Clear!” He whips his hoof around and clangs and smacks the nearby wall with the chain dangling from his forehoof repeatedly, emphasizing each word with a strike.

He lets out a forceful snort and glares at them. “So, until you have something that actually supports what the fuck you’re saying… don’t even bring it up.”

The guard glares at him and snarls. “Know your place, criminal.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment then leans to the left and comes back with his hoof hitting the wall with a loud crack. Causing a piece of the stone to break off and go flying away from himself. They all recoil from him as Gearing says with a growl, “Know. Yours.” He lays his head back down and grumbles. “Now just fucking get out of here and let me die in peace…” He glares at the guard with his eyes wide. “Or don’t… and end up in pieces… your call.”

The guard motions for the pale gray mare to come towards him. “Come on. Get out of there. I knew he was cracked.” He looks at her and tilts his head as he keeps beckoning her over. “Move it! Before he does that to your skull!”

She looks at Gearing, then lays back down, tucking her hooves under herself, as she shakes her head. “No. I’m not leaving him alone.” She looks over at her coworkers and smiles lightly. “He won’t hurt me.”

They collectively look at her absolutely appalled. The guard asks with a hiss. “Is this crazy infectious!? What makes you so sure? What makes you so special that he’ll ignore you when he obviously wants to smash me into the- ohh god he’s staring at me again!” He ducks to the side behind the stone wall and shivers.

Silver Aura looks sideways at Gearing, then shakes her head as she tilts her head and grins at her coworkers. “Maybe he just thinks I’m too cute to pulverize?”

The older unicorn frowns and looks at Gearing. “That just means there’s other concerns to be worried about then…”

“I won’t harm her,” Gearing says flatly. “You have my word.”

The other unicorn buck snorts. “‘Your word’? Really? Now I’m really worried, who tries that bullshit? When a criminal says that, it’s always a bad sign.”

Silver Aura shoots him a dirty look. “I’d thank you to remember your station, and realize that he’s only in here as punishment for a childish prank. I expect you to give the colonel the proper consideration his position deserves.”

The unicorns eyes shoot wide and he asks as he points a hoof at Gearing, “Colonel? Him?!”

“Colonel Gearing, Equestrian Defense Force, serial number Sierra Zulu 61357.” Gearing stares at him for a moment before snorting. “Any other stupid questions?”

The older unicorn snorts then looks at his younger counterpart and nods towards Gearing. “Completely explains the attitude and ego…”

Silver Aura scowls as she adds, “And his indignation at being illegally imprisoned.” They all stare at her and she waves a hoof. “Don’t deny it. He’s already supposed to have had a hearing by now. And he knows it.” She looks over at Gearing and frowns. “I’d be pissed if I thought I was forgotten and fell through the cracks too…”

The older unicorn motions for her to come out. “Alright… fine. I get it… now would you please come out of there so we can lock the door?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m staying here until this is sorted out.” She looks at Gearing. “Something’s wrong and I want him to know that he’s not forgotten.”

Gearing looks over at her and gives an appreciative smile as he continues to settle into the corner.

“I don’t want to lock you in with him… that’s just asking for trouble,” the guard around the corner says softly.

She shakes her head. “Then don’t lock the door at all.” They all look at her like she’s truly lost her mind. She lets out a sigh and points a hoof at Gearing. “He’s not going to flee. He surrendered without incident. He’s too honorable to just flee, even with the door open. He has too much to lose if nothing else.”

The younger unicorn stallion waves his hooves. “No way. You can’t trust him to just stay put.”

She looks at him and tilts her head. “Why not?” They look at her like she’d grown a third head. She waves a hoof at the wall then at the gate. “He could have gotten away at any time.” She points at his broken manacles. “I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping him in here right now… Really keeping him in here… is his sense of honor and loyalty…” She scoffs, “Hardware damn sure isn’t doing it.”

The older unicorn waves a hoof. “Alright… fine… But, if you need anything… help’s within ear shot… okay…?”

She nods and smiles. “Thanks. But I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

The unicorn bucks walk out of sight as the older one mutters, “I’ll go try and see what’s going on… You just keep working on that other project we were asked about.”

The younger stallion unicorn nods as he looks at Gearing before turning and heading away. “Sir.”

Gearing and Silver Aura sit there not talking, and the only movement is her eyes traveling over his body and her regular breathing. After a few minutes longer, after the door at the end of the hall closes, she yells out, “Hey! You at the end of the hall… you can hear me, right?”

The mare security guard takes a step towards the cell and yells back, “Yes, ma’am, everything okay?”

She yells back, “Just checking. Nothing’s wrong now, thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the jailer mare says as she settles back behind the desk by the entry door.

The security officer says quieter, “Hey, Jailer?” There’s no sound and she says a bit louder, “I know you’re standing there, soldier, I can smell you from here.”

He peeks around the corner looking abashed. “The hell! I had a shower this morning!”

She giggles at him and shakes her head. “Yeah, but you might want to cut back on that cologne though…”

He snorts and looks off to the side. “Helps cover up the dank down here…”

She giggles again then looks at him. “Would you kindly go join your coworker… I need to have a private conversation with him.”

The guard’s eyes go wide and he leans towards her. “You can’t possibly be serious… I was told to stay here and make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

She waves with a hoof. “Well, as I just proved, your coworker can hear me clearly all the way down there when I really want you to. Besides. I’m not exactly helpless you know.” Her horn flashes for a moment as she grins.

The guard hangs his head. “Fine. Please don’t do anything to get me in trouble.”

Her smile flinches in one of pain as an unpleasant memory surfaces and a moment later she waves it away. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

After his hoof steps have disappeared from ear shot, she gets up and walks to the door and peeks out just to make sure. After exchanging looks with the guards at the end of the hall, she turns back around, walks over, and lays back down near Gearing. “They’re gone. Want to talk about it?” she asks softly.

Gearing looks at her sideways and sighs. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

She uses her magic and drags in a couple trays of food. “How about why you won’t eat? It’s been days.”

“Why don’t you eat it? It’ll do you more good than me,” Gearing retorts.

She frowns and levitates a cake up in the air for him. “It’s not poisoned… or do we need to have an exact similar conversation about how poisoning you would be counterproductive too?”

He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “I wouldn’t care if it was poisoned.”

Her eyes go wide as she lowers the food to the tray. “You’re… really trying to starve yourself to death, aren’t you? Why? To prove a point about how screwed up the system is or something?”

Gearing shakes his head. He chuckles, “You’re off base… Poison just doesn’t work on me… It’s not a problem.”

She tilts her head and asks, “Then why won’t you eat?”

He shrugs. “It’s a waste... You eat it… or let the guards eat it… or, hell, set up a snack table in the foyer and let the tourists have a taste. I don’t need it.”

She folds her hooves in front of herself and snorts. “Fine… if you’re going to be stubborn… then I’ll be stubborn as well.” He raises an eyebrow and she smiles. “I’m not going to eat till you do.” She gives a prim nod.

He lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. “That’s like challenging me to a staring contest… you’re gonna lose.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You doubt my conviction is as strong as yours?”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof. “Doesn’t matter how strong your conviction is… you still have your hide to worry about.”

“And you don’t?” She asks with a raised eyebrow and a partially closed eye.

He drops the illusion for a moment, showing his clockwork visage as he grins at her. “No. I don’t.”

She looks down at the food then back up at him in time to see his dark blue pelt reappear. “I still don’t think you can just keep going by sitting in the corner and doing nothing.”

“Nothing productive to be done.” He shrugs. “Best thing I can do is stay out of the way.”

She shrugs. “Fine… hope you don’t mind the company. Because I’m not leaving.”

He waves his hoof at her. “Suit yourself… bed’s right there if you get tired.”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

He settles in and just keeps staring at the door to the cell as he goes visibly still again and continues running through a variety of scenarios through his mind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Footnote: Prioritizing Emergency Reboot Protocol. . .

Emergency Reboot Protocol Initiated. . .

Critical components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This is one of the chapters that is probably going to cause more questions than giving answers. And the answers to them won't be for a long time yet. There's a lot going on here in the undertones of both actions and the characters involved. But providing a bit more of a hint towards something involving a certain clockwork. Which will be built on some more in the next chapter. This trip down historical lane will last another chapter before we return to the present.

Thanks again for all of the help in getting this story going, and to both Kkat and Somber for their works that have helped inspire this.

-Quillsy

25 Jail Bird

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the wee hours of the night a bit of movement catches Gearing’s eye every now and then as he sees the security officer’s head bobbing. She sits there, watching him, and every now and then shaking her head as she tries to stay awake. She doesn’t yawn, she doesn’t let herself, but eventually, and despite her best efforts, her head slumps over and she starts to fall sideways as she literally falls asleep sitting up.

Gearing catches her, gently picks her up, and lays her on the bed nearby. He covers her with the provided sheet, the first time it’s been used the entire time, then goes back to sitting in the corner.

The next morning she awakes with a gasp and a soft moaned cry that causes Gearing’s eyes to jump wide open and look at her sideways as his ears turn to face her. That didn’t sound like any kind of nightmare noise. Quite the opposite.

She springs up in bed and looks around. She starts moving her forehooves lower under the sheets as she checks herself in edging panic.

“You fell asleep,” Gearing says from his spot in the corner, causing her to roll over and stare at him. He gives her a mischievous grin as he says, “Sounded like you had a rather sweet dream.”

“Shut up!” She flushes and kicks away the sheet as she quickly looks around at anything but him as she gets out of bed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Gearing smiles wide enough that his eyes close. “Your blushing says otherwise.”

She stomps her hooves around as she tries to think of some retort, but can’t, then walks out as she mutters, “I’ll be right back, I need to use the restroom.”

Gearing waves a hoof at the door. “Help yourself. You know where I’ll be.”

Not long after, she comes back with an appearance like she’d used the bathroom sink to wash her face to help wake herself up. And get rid of the crimson shades from her normally pale gray coat. She sits down and looks at the bed as she shakes her head. She tucks her legs under herself, and lays down, as she looks at him and slowly grows a smile. “I knew it… you were a perfect gentlestallion. Despite a very prominent opportunity.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “I’m not a rapist…”

She stifles a yawn with her hoof then gives him a soft smile. “I know… I was pretty sure I’d judged you correctly.” She looks at the untouched tray she’d brought in the day before and asks, “You hungry yet?”

Gearing rolls his eyes again and mutters. “Nope.”

She grins at him and tilts her head. “Okay… just checking.” A moment later her stomach begins a rolling rumble that crescendos into a marching band’s drumline. Her eyes jump wide and she flushes as she gives a sheepish grin.

Gearing’s eyes jump wide and his ears point to her, causing her to flush even more. He snickers and pushes the tray towards her. “I think you really need to eat.”

“Nope.” She shakes her head and settles in. “It’s been longer for you.”

Gearing frowns. “I don’t need it though.”

She lets out a sigh. “For you to get out of here, you have to be able to leave when the time comes… You can’t do that if your in some kind of starvation induced coma.”

“For fuck’s sakes,” Gearing says as he rolls his eyes. “I don’t need it.” He waves a hoof towards her. “You do… And, obviously, now!”

She stares at him for a moment then gets a mischievous grin across her muzzle. “I’ll make you a deal… you eat some… and I’ll eat some…”

He frowns and partially closes his eyes. “I told you I’m not worried about poisons.”

She shrugs and looks off to the side as her grin turns practically smug. “I’m not eating until you do… so… you eat something… and I’ll eat something.”

He motions towards her. “You first.”

She grins and shakes her head. “Nope…” She encompasses one of the fresher trays with her silvery levitation field and shoves it towards him as she says, “You eat something, then I’ll eat something.”

He stares at her for a few moments then rolls his eyes as he grabs one of the ‘cakes’ and takes off the packaging. “Stubborn ass mare… Fine.” He looks at her and narrows his eyes. “But one for one, I’m not wasting more than that.” He downs the cake in two bites, barely chewing before forcing it down.

She giggles then tilts her head as she asks rather smugly, “I thought you said you weren’t hungry?” She grabs one of the cakes and starts eating on it, giving it an instant frown as she looks at it after the first bite.

“I’m not…” Gearing snickers. “But you just wouldn’t give it up so I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.”

She stares at it a moment and smacks her lips before she grabs one of the cups of water and takes a sip to try and wash it down. “I… I can see why.” She takes a few more quick bites then quickly uses the cup to force it down. She shakes her head as she looks at him with a sigh. “Yeah… not exactly the most appetizing… but it’s better than nothing.”

Gearing waves a hoof at her. “Says you.”

She pulls in another tray and pushes a bowl of mushy greens towards him. “Here you are.”

He looks down at it, then at her and waves towards her. “You first. I went first last time.”

She frowns and looks down at it as she sighs. “I guess… that’s fair…” She grabs it and starts moving the dark green substance around. She starts eating by taking a big bite then looks at him with a frown for a few moments without actually swallowing as she debates her life choices. After a few moments of hesitation she succeeds in the Herculean task of swallowing it. She looks down, then at him, before letting out an audible sigh and taking a deep breath before she quickly gobbles down the rest in the bowl.

He props his head up with one hoof as he watches her. “That good, huh?”

She wipes her mouth then smiles. “It’s not bad… like a salad…” She looks down at it and says quieter, “That’s been thrown in a blender…” She licks her lips and smacks them a bit. “Then boiled until even it doesn’t know what the hell it is…” She looks up at him and sees his grin, and then glares at him as she says, “Oh you better eat yours too!”

Gearing shrugs then lifts the bowl and practically drinks it down as she stares at him in disbelief.

She looks at his empty bowl, with even all the fluids gone, and asks wide eyed, “You actually liked that crap?”

Gearing shows the empty bowl towards her and raises a shoulder in a shrug. “I told you before… might as well eat the rocks. It’s all the same to me really. Don’t like it. Don’t hate it. It just is. And what it is, is a waste of time for me to eat.” He looks over at her and asks, “You still hungry?”

She raises a hoof to her mouth and looks like she’s about to puke. Instead she gives a soft soppy belch then shakes her head. “No… Really no.”

Gearing grins and settles in again. “Me neither.”

She rolls her eyes then grabs the empty dishes and puts them out into the hallway. She exchanges looks with a guard that looks at the empty dishes, then smiles, and takes the tray before giving a shrug and turning to leave back to the front desk. The guard says in a whisper over their shoulder as they are walking away, “Was told to tell you there’s been some progress and that someone will be down today to deal with the situation with the prisoner.”

Silver Aura grins widely before turning around and trotting over excitedly. “Gearing. Someone will be down soon to talk with you.”

Gearing mutters and rolls his eyes, “Yeah. I heard.”

The security officer sits down and smiles at him. “I’m sure this whole mess will be over soon.”

Gearing frowns at her. “Soon is a relative term. And I don’t much care for blind optimism.”

She frowns then asks quietly, “What do you care about then?”

Gearing looks at her as he settles back in. “Actions and results… Results are all that matters.”

She shrugs and smiles. “Well… we’ll have results soon too.” She gives a prim nod for emphasis.

Gearing frowns and rolls his eyes before he looks at her. “Negative results don’t count… and unnecessary delays cause negative results… Delays timetables. Gets ponies killed.” He shakes his head. “Blind optimism again, filly.”

The door opens at the end of the hall and draws both of their attentions. The elegant voice echoing down the hall causes the security officer to spring to her feet with joy exploding across her muzzle. “Princess Celestia! See! I bet she came back just to handle this personally! I’ll be right back!” She scampers out of the cell and down the hall, not noticing Gearing’s eyes go wide and him starting to violently shake.

Celestia walks down the hall, looking side to side, then smiling and tilting her head as she greets Silver Aura, “Good morning.”

The security officer dips respectfully and grins up at her. “Good morning, Princess.”

Celestia looks around and asks, “Where is this prisoner?” Her eyes settle on the pile of food outside of the jail cell as Silver Aura leads her back towards it.

Silver Aura follows her gaze then looks back up at her and says sheepishly, “He’s not been wanting to eat…”

Celestia frowns and looks over the pile. “For a while, I presume?”

Silver Aura nods. “Yes, ma’am. I was able to coax him to eat a bit not long ago. But, even so, he’s not had much since being here.”

Celestia walks forward and lets out a sigh. “Well, let’s get this sorted. Where is he?” She looks into the cell, and sees the bed capsized and turned so the mattress and frame is blocking their view to the far back right corner of the room.

Silver Aura looks in and her eyes go left and right as she tilts her head. “He was just… Gearing! Come on out. The princess is here to see you!” Nothing happens, not even a sound. She looks up at Celestia and nervously giggles as she says, “He’s… he’s just being shy… I think…” She looks into the room and hisses, “It’s rude to ignore the princess when she’s trying to talk to you!” Still nothing. She grumbles, “I told you she’d come to see you, but you didn’t believe me, come on out already!” Her horn glows as she yanks the mattress away from the wall and it falls and lays flat on the ground revealing...

More wall and nothing else.

Celestia looks around and raises an eyebrow. “Where- where is he?” She pushes the door open with a hoof and asks, “Did he escape?”

The security officer waves her hooves. “No! No, no, no. He wouldn’t do that. He’s just...” She looks into the room and lets out a long disgruntled sigh. “He’s got some kind of illusionary magic going on and I think he’s using it to hide.”

Celestia nods as she looks back and forth in the room. “I’m aware of that. It was used with his little prank.”

The pale gray mare looks sheepishly at Celestia as she grinds a hoof into the ground but tries to think of what to do. She looks into the cell and grumbles, “Gearing, if you don’t come out of hiding, I’m going to zap you again!”

Celestia’s eyes go wide as she stares at the security officer.

“Have it your way!” Silver Aura says as she starts firing bursts of the blue bursting magic into the room going from right to left and not stopping until she’s panting and sure she’s covered the entire floor. She looks around and sits down. “Just… just where is he?”

A rock falls to the ground from above the door and a slow grind of metal on stone greets their ears.

The security officer leans forward low to the ground and looks up in the corner, above the door, and sees Gearing, in his metallic flesh, wedged with his hooves somehow causing enough friction to keep him stuck in place by sheer force against the two adjoining walls.

Until enough of the stone slides away and he comes tumbling down to the stone floor. Hard. He impacts on his head, then flops over onto his back, half way out of the cell and belly side up.

The hall rings with a metallic clatter as he lets out a moaned, “Ow.”

He lays on his back splayed out with his eyes closed as he rubs his head. Gearing opens his eyes and looks up into the smiling faces of both Celestia and Silver Aura as they lean over and look down at him.

He starts shaking and looks around quickly, then starts using his hind hooves to quickly kick and motor himself back into the cell, where he doesn’t stop until he’s slid back into the corner, as he blurts out, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to escape. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to escape!”

He motors himself into the corner until he actually rises against the corner then flops back over onto his belly and backs his rear into the corner again as he covers his head with his forehooves. “I’m sorry!” He huddles there shaking violently as the two stare in at him.

“Gearing,” Celestia’s voice calls over and silences his blubbering. He opens one eye to look at her and it jumps all over her form as he shakes and tries to figure out what’s going to happen. She maintains a level look on her face then says softly, “Rainbow Dash is in need of your help.” Gearing freezes and Silver Aura can’t help but notice the light switch change as he looks at her.

“Dash called for me?”

Celestia nods and motions towards the front door. “She’s in need of her assistant. The poor dear seems to be in over her head at the moment.”

Gearing looks between her and the security officer and asks, “May… may I go help her?”

Celestia nods. “You may. Consider it an order.”

Gearing looks around and asks, “Do… do I need to come back after?”

Celestia stares at him for a moment then gives a single shake of her head. “No. You do not.”

Gearing looks around and asks, “Am I… free to go?”

Celestia nods and steps back as she points a hoof and a wing towards the front door. “You may.”

Gearing walks towards her, slinking across the ground ever so slowly, watching her closely as he motors his legs in such a way that he stays against the wall tracing the border of the floor as his head stays focused on Celestia and jumps to every micro movement as he slowly makes his way to the jail cell door. He eases out of the cell, watching her carefully, and stepping ever so slowly one hoof at a time. But, his steps start picking up as he gets out of the cell and quickly starts zipping down the hall until he’s at a full run. He runs straight at the guards who are standing there with keys ready to take off his restraints.

But he jumps over, and past, them and he’s already most of the way up the flight of stairs, beyond the door, before the door has even closed behind him.

By the time Gearing gets to the door to where Dash is currently confined, the bindings on his wings and forelegs have been removed and he’s picked up a satchel from the same guard who shows him the rest of the way. Gearing walks past the guards at the door and can’t help but snicker as he sees Rainbow Dash behind a massive desk and surrounded in a mountain of paperwork.

Celestia wasn’t above punishing Dash for her joke, and one good prank deserves another by Luna’s count, but it had to be postponed until the ministry mare could be spared. That took some doing. Celestia’s punishment of choice, it seems? Magically binding Dash’s wings to herself, and making her go to a room with a huge stack of paperwork all over the place. And, worst of all, she’s to be stuck there and not allowed to leave until it’s all sorted.

At least as far as she knows.

Gearing was sent to help because, while ‘terrible’, the punishment wasn’t supposed to last long and she really is needed elsewhere.

Rainbow Dash starts sorting through the paper as she moans and practically cries shamelessly, “This is sooo boring… I can’t even fly!” She holds up a piece of paper and rotates her head back and forth. “What is this even? I can’t even understand this. What does it even mean? Who wrote this?!” She pauses as she turns the paper sideways. “... Oh… I did… Well, it sort of makes sense, figuring out the rest is somepony else’s problem…” Her eyes bug out as she takes in a deep breath and bellows out, “I’m that somepony else! Nooooooo!” She flops down on the floor and puts her hooves over her head before kneeling and throwing her hooves out and to the sides as she yells up at the ceiling, “Of all the worst things that could have happened, this is the. Worst. Possible. Thing!”

Gearing walks by calmly with a stack of papers as Dash has apparently communed with the universe and decided to channel the essence of Rarity to properly express her thoughts on the matter. “My life is oveeerr,” she moans as she sniffles with her shoulders sagging.

Rainbow Dash crawls over to the desk, with her head laying to the side on the top of it and looking at page after page as she tries to figure out where they should go. She groans and looks over at the closed door for a moment before bellowing out, “Geeaaarrring! Heeelp meeee!”

Gearing comes around the stack of papers and offers her a box of tissues for her running nose. “You know I’ll always be there for you when you call.” Rainbow Dash grinds her forehead into the desk as she groans.

Dash blows her nose noisily and sniffles, “This is sooo boring! Help!”

Gearing uses a couple chairs as improvised tables as he starts going back and forth tossing pages between them and starts clearing the neigh-impenetrable fortification of paper around Dash. “No pony left behind! Hang in there, Dash, we’ll get through this by sticking together! I got you covered!” Gearing’s face takes on the super serious scowl normally worn by the royal guards.

Dash waves a hoof dismissively and moans. “You do it…”

“Yes, ma’am!” Gearing says with a salute. “Dismantling of northwest tower in progress, please stay clear.” He grabs a large stack of papers and starts trot marching around as he shuffles out the papers into appropriate stacks.

Dash waves a hoof in the air and yells from her position hanging on the side of the desk, “Show no mercy!”

Gearing salutes again. “Ma’am! Yes, Ma’am! Zero mercy confirmed!”

“I wanna fllyyyyyyyy,” Dash moans as she randomly pushes pieces of paper back and forth on the desk without any real goal to the motion except to maybe move.

Gearing looks around at the various piles on the chairs and finally sets the pile he’s currently working down on the floor. He scrunches down a bit then starts turning around as his visage changes. He waits until the change has finished before he starts moving again.

Dash looks at the large dark blue pegasus with the blue mane in front of her. A form that had struck her practically as a bit smaller, and bluer, Big Mac with wings from the first time she’d seen it, though even back then already knowing exactly why it was designed that way without having to ask, and says softly, “Gearing. You don’t need to hide yourself like that.”

Gearing turns towards her and smiles lightly. “I think I’ve caused enough of a ruckus for you and everyone else for now… The more time I have to waste explaining to people what I am, the less time I’m using to get through this mess.”

Dash watches him walk to the door and open it as she grumbles miserably.

“Halt!” a pair of royal guards standing there say in unison and cross lances barring the exit. “None are permitted to leave until the punishment has been completed. By order of Princess Celestia.”

Gearing looks at them and rolls his eyes. “My commander requires more supplies to complete her task… File boxes, labels, here… I’ll give you a list.” He looks down then groans. “Fuck… I forgot I had to take my PipBuck off…”

“We’re under orders not to let anypony out until the task has been completed,” one of the guards stares at him stern faced as he speaks.

Gearing grabs one of the folders nearby and scribbles down a list. He offers it to the guards, but they don’t move and stand there staring at him. Gearing’s eyes narrow on them and he spits the folder at them. Gearing looks between the two and glares down at the smaller pair of pegasi as he seems to puff up more and growls, “Either get the supplies, I don’t care how you do it, or you can explain to Celestia and Luna why you’re hampering one of Luna’s ministry mares from completing a job she explicitly ordered completed as fast as possible.”

The two guards’ eyes jump wide and look at each other for a moment.

Gearing turns around enough to show them his ass before saying, “We’ll be waiting. Don’t take long… You do not want me opening this door and asking again.”

As Gearing is kicking the door closed with a hind hoof Dash, slightly amused, yells out, “Gearing, play nice with the silly guards. They’re only doing their job!”

Gearing trots over to her and grins. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re tough.” He drops the illusion and strikes his standard high winged pose causing the light to cascade around himself. “But there’s only two of them. I can take them if need be.”

Rainbow Dash giggles a bit. “Yeah, you probably could… but then we’d be in even more hot water with Celestia.” She groans and lays her head down again as she moans, “I wanna flyyyy.”

Gearing lays his head down, by resting his chin on the desk, as he looks at her across the desktop. “How about when we get finished with this we go for a nice long flight and get some ice cream?”

Rainbow Dash’s ears perk up, but she doesn’t say anything beyond mumbling.

Gearing snickers, then sets a metallic flask down in front of her, that he’d produced from the satchel at his side, and keeps his hoof on it as he says, “I’ll get you a peanut butter and zap apple jam sandwich for lunch when we’re done to go with the ice cream. Here. This should help keep you till I burn through all of this. Don’t worry, it won’t take me much longer when they come back with the labels.”

“What is it?” Dash asks as she eyeballs the flask with her head still on the desk.

Gearing grins and leans over the desk as he whispers almost into her ear, “Cider. Sweet Apple Acres reserve.”

He starts pulling back over the desk and Dash almost jumps over the desk to grab his forehoof with both of hers. “Gearing! You are the best assistant anypony could ever ask for. You’re smart. You can organize things quicker than anypony I know, and you’re attention to detail is ridiculous… You’d make an excellent administrator.”

Gearing’s right eye twitches as he smiles lightly. But, regardless of the praise and who it’s from, it’s an extremely forced smile. “Yeah… well… I… I just do what I can.”

Dash pulls his hoof back towards her as she asks, “You know why you’re not?”

Gearing tilts his head then shrugs.

Dash uses one hoof to hold his while using the other to gently pat it. “Because this is a soul sucking job, and I’d never wish this on anypony. I’d never do that to you. You’re too good of a friend!” Her eyes practically sparkle on the verge of tears as she stares him in the eyes. Then, in typical Rainbow Dash speed, the next moment she’s pulled back, flask in hoof, and is slowly sucking down the sweet nectar inside.

Gearing chuckles and goes back to setting the piles in a row. When the door knocks he switches into his blue pegasus persona again and opens the door.

Three Royal Guards glare at him, the one in the back being a unicorn that hovers in a crate of supplies. Gearing grabs the box from the unicorn, whose eyes seem to go a bit wide as Gearing effortlessly, and completely, pulls it out of their magical levitation field, then holds the box aloft with just a hoof and his shoulder. “Thanks. We’ll be finished within the hour.” He turns and closes the door, then sets down the box with a loud crash.

Dash pulls the bottle away and smirks. “Careful. Don’t want to break anything.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I sat on it.” He rips the crate top off and starts unfolding the boxes inside, filling them with relevant papers, and slapping a label on the side, along with a few sheets on top to function as an index of content.

Twenty-five minutes later he opens the door again, and a large stack of boxes take up half the office as Dash sits in the chair behind the desk and spins around in a circle while licking the inside of the flask.

Gearing looks at the guards and motions towards the boxes. “Mission accomplished.”

The guards look beyond him and look at each other. The one on the left replies, “We’ll send for someone to confirm completion.”

Gearing stares at them for a few moments, and sees neither of them are moving. After a few moments of this stare off Gearing flops down into a seated position, intentionally hard, and causes the two guards to bounce slightly from the micro earthquake. “Go ahead, I’ll wait.” He folds his forehooves and stares at them.

“Gearing,” Dash says with a slight chuckle. “Play niiiice.”

Gearing gives a forceful snort. “Yes, Ma’am.” He continues to glare at them and finally says, “I. Don’t. Blink.” And smirks as he opens his eyes to their fullest and seems to stare a hole through their very soul.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After they finally reach the station, Swift helps them down to the stable door and starts the process of opening it as Pharynx disconnects himself from the cart. Once inside the stable, Pharynx goes off on his own and leaves them to their own devices, feeling that his job is done and he’d really like a rest himself.

Sable stands at the interior of the door, along with a few of the protectaponies, to welcome them back with a wide smile. Her smiles fades as she looks around and doesn’t see Gearing anywhere in the entrance area.

“Subject Swift, where is my love, Gearing? Is he not with you?” she asks with growing concern.

Swift looks at her, rather confused for a moment. This propagation of sentient AIs is an oddity. She shakes her head and can’t help but scold herself. There’s a filly here worried about her lover. She can easily place herself in Sable’s horseshoes. If it had been Handy… Swift locks eyes with Sable and nods back towards the cart. “He’s in the back of the cart. He overworked himself getting the supplies for the stable…” As she passes Sable she says, quietly, “Take good care of him, Sable.” She slowly walks as fast as her hooves will carry her back to her room.

However, once inside her quarters, she gets a burst of energy as she sees her bed… which she proceeds to burn with a bounding flop onto the comfy before her, falling asleep immediately.

Upon hearing Swift’s last comment to her, Sable grins and says happily, “Confirmed!” then she scampers over to the cart to peek into the back. She finds Gearing in the back, crumpled in a heap, in the same position that Pharynx had left him in. She checks him and breathes a sigh of relief, her version of it anyway, as, despite the incomprehensible stillness, he’s very much alive according to his PipBuck.

The protectaponies help fish him out of the back of the cart and hand him off to Sable. Sable, after taking possession of him by gently wrapping him up in restraining cables and carrying him on her back, takes him back down to their room in the lower levels near the Research and Development department. The protectaponies unload all of the supplies that were in the back of the cart, and take them to various places of storage, mostly in the R&D department, as directed by Sable through the stable’s network system.

Gearing stays in an exhaustion, and magically ‘aided’, induced state of unconsciousness for almost two days straight. Sable never leaves his side, and even has Cure come down to double check that her diagnosis is correct. Though she does discover the range of minor and moderate damage all over his body, which she intends to have taken care of after he wakes up as it’s not that serious. After being unresponsive for nearly forty hours, Gearing finally begins showing signs of moving again.

“Are you okay, my beloved?”

“Sable?” Gearing asks groggily before opening his eyes and finally returning to reality. When he does, he sees Sable point blank, nearly muzzle to muzzle with him, as she smiles warmly. Again, demonstrating her complete disregard and understanding for personal space. Even more so once Gearing realizes that Sable’s actually half laying on him. Although, in this particular case, he’s actually enjoying being partially smothered.

Sable nuzzles him a bit. “Yes, it is me, my love.”

Gearing wraps his forelegs around her, giving her a squeeze as he lets out a sigh of relief. Which she snuggles into readily. A moment later his eyes jump open to their fullest as he suddenly realizes the change in surroundings. “Sable… How’d I get in the stable?”

Sable snuggles in even more then, as she crawls more onto him now that he’s actually lucid, gives him a lick up his neck to his cheek. “Subjects Swift and Pharynx brought you in. Reportedly you worked yourself into a catatonic state.” She half closes her eyes as she touches muzzles and says softly, “You’ve been gone for days… then when you finally get back I’m still left without your… company.”

Gearing leans into the lick then turns his head to look at her, unable to help the smile growing across his face.

“Feeling rested, my love?” Sable asks.

Gearing nods as he nuzzles her cheek. “Mmhmm.”

Sable reaches up, and asks, “How about a bit of… relaxation… now?” directly into his ear before giving it a light bite.

Gearing chuckles as he rolls over, taking her with him and changing positions with her. “Hmmm it has been a while… hasn’t it?”

Sable nods rapidly. “A week… too long.”

Despite the statement being a slight chronological exaggeration, Gearing gives her neck a little lick before he says softly, “Sorry to make you worry.”

Sable abandons all pretenses and takes control of the growing situation, much to Gearing’s delight. But, before they get too far along, Gearing pulls out of her grasp and stands up as he holds her hoof. She looks at him more than a little confused as he asks, “Where’s my saddle bag?”

She motions over towards a steamer style metal chest as she slowly stands up. “I placed it in the container while you slept. Is there something in there you need?”

He hurries over and starts rummaging through the chest, pulling out a variety of items as he says, “Yes! There’s something I want to show you.” He plops down on the floor and begins tinkering with the variety of supplies he had stowed in his saddlebag and the tools he keeps stashed around.

Sable walks up slowly leaning side to side to see what he’s working on, and trying to figure out what he’s up to. He smiles lightly as she strolls up behind him and starts nuzzling his shoulder. A moment later she’s lovingly licking his neck up to his cheek as she leans into him more.

Gearing can’t help but smile, but raises a hoof. “J- just gimme me a few more minutes. This’ll be worth it… I promise you.”

She sits down behind him with a plop and a disgruntled sigh. “If you insist… It’s mean of you to make me wait like this, you know, Gearing?” She leans in and, finding no reason not to, begins entertaining herself by distracting him. A nuzzle and a lick on the neck here. A nibble on the ear there. The more he shudders and leans into it, the more she actually enjoys herself. Teasing goes both ways. If she has to wait, then he has to put up with her ‘waiting’.

Gearing works as fast as he can as he tries his best to keep his mind on this task. At one point he jerks his head around, looking for a component that he doesn’t seem to have readily available. Then he hops up and scurries over to a set of drawers.

Sable’s grin instantly turns into an oversized frown as he practically runs away from her. She moans at the thought of him putting physical distance between them, and feels bad about being so distracting and making him feel the need to get away to work.

She’s pleasantly surprised, and further encouraged, when he scampers back and plops himself in the exact same position he was previously. Albeit with a bit more lean back into her. Gearing holds up a broken security camera he’d salvaged from one of the lower levels, and goes about expertly taking it apart. “Sorry, I needed the lens from this.”

Sable smiles and partially closes her eyes. “Understood.” She leans into him more, closing her eyes as she trails licks up his neck, to his ear, and gives them little nibbles.

After a few more minutes of this seemingly endless torture, Gearing holds a box aloft about twice the size of his hoof. “I think I got it!” He spins around and connects his PipBuck to it as he looks Sable in the eyes. “See if you can connect to this.”

Sable looks back and forth between them, then tilts her head. “Confirmed… unknown protectapony core discovered.”

Gearing sits down and leans in as he looks her in the eyes. “Can you control it?”

Sable nods. “Confirmed.”

Gearing gently picks it up and looks from her to the lens on the side of the box. “Can you see me… from it I mean?”

Sable nods and smiles. “Yes. I can see you from both units.”

Gearing cradles it and looks into her eyes. “I… I was worried about losing you. And this is the only thing I can think of to keep you safe. Inside of this box is an exact duplicate of the hardware for your neural net. Storage. Processing power. Everything.” He looks down at the box, tilting it, and looking into it’s camera as he caresses the side of it. “That way if something were to happen… If mantises or an accident or whatever h- happened…”

He leans in and looks her in the eyes, for once displaying a level of sadness he’s never registered across his face to her before. “You would still be okay. You have the ability to control both simultaneously… So if one chassis fails… you’ll still have a backup for you’re system… you. You’re very consciousness would live on.”

Sable looks at him for a few moments, from both perspectives, then says softly, “I’m not going anywhere, my darling Gearing. I won’t leave you alone again.”

There’s a twinge across his features. Ever so slight. But with her ability to detect even minutia, it might as well have been a balefire bomb explosion in its clarity.

She had guessed right.

She leans in and nuzzles his cheek, then gives it a loving, and long, lick. “I’m here for you, Gearing.”

He leans into it, and recomposes himself as he grins his overly enthusiastic grin. “Well. I’d said I had something I wanted to show you. So, here it is… but one more thing.” He gets up, scurries over to the chest, closes it, and sets the control box on the top. He stands to the side, carefully aiming the camera, and sticking his tongue out to the side as he judges the angle because of course that always helps.

Gearing slowly lets go of it as he looks at it and asks, “So… you can see… yourself… right?”

“Confirmed. Connection with core stable and optical equipment operating at peak efficiency.”

“Great!” He turns and starts walking over towards her. “Because… the gift I brought is…” He leans in and bites her ear before he says, “Now you get to watch as well.” And hops onto her, rolling around with her as she giggles and wraps her limbs around him.

Sable stares up at him with her eyes half closed as she runs her hooves up his chest. “Gearing… this… this is.” She grabs him, rolls over, and changes positions with him. As she repositions herself and leans down to kiss him, she leans up and kisses his cheek as she starts excitedly swaying and shaking her flank. “Oh, Gearing… this is just so… stimulating… It’s not like watching through a camera…” She begins rolling around with him, grinding into, kissing, and fondling various parts as she pays very careful attention to angles and makes sure she gives herself the best view of her escapades.

Footnote: Emergency Reboot Protocol Initiated. . .

Critical components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Stabilizing ‘credential matrix’, please stand by. . .

Loading of ‘Blue Mac credential’ complete. . . awaiting matrix stabilization.

Author's Note

With this chapter the focus is brought back to the present with the return to Stable 68. Though the effects of the past are far from trivial, and not yet fully revealed. This whole sequence proved quite the challenge from a presentation side of things. Had thought of breaking it up, maybe presenting it in smaller pieces, but elected for the continuous bit for a variety of reasons. Namely some of the information from it is needed to be understood by the reader for later events to be fully appreciated, and I was worried it might get muddled if it wasn't presented as a continuous sequence. Though, back in "the present" there's a bit of tension building behind the scenes that some have already started guessing at. Though which way it'll break, only time will tell. ( And future chapters)

Again I'd like to thank everyone for their interest, help, and support with this ongoing project! It's truly appreciated!

As always, Questions, comments, and critiques are welcome and encouraged!

-Quillsy

26 Gauging Threats

Gauge opens the door to the front of the stable and stands there sorting through his bags as it slides out of the way. The default flat voice of the Stable AI comes from a speaker nearby.

“Subject Gauge, would you like assistance with your trip?”

Gauge waves it away. “No. I just want to get away from everyone for a bit, mmkay? There’s a few buildings I wanna check to see if I can find something to add to my collection.”

“Very well, Subject Gauge. Safe journey,” the voice replies.

Once outside he uses the controls and closes it back up before heading out on his trip. As the evening wears on he arrives at a Fixit Bro’s Hardware store and slips in through the broken back door. He’s drawn to the broken tool box in the back hallway and sifts through the contents that have been dumped out in the muddy sludge. He picks up the thoroughly rusted tools and puts them in his saddlebag as he says, “Better than nothing…”

After checking the rest of the building, and not finding a lot of other items worthy of his time, he heads out the front door and trots further down the road towards one of the more intact buildings. As he’s walking towards the three story building the wind changes and he scrunches his nose. “Smells bad, mmkay,” he grumbles before he continues forward. Gauge finds a collection of dead bodies in front of it, somewhat recently dead and getting putrid as they’ve been left in the road to rot. One of which is missing part of their head as they lay in a heap near the front door. Who they were Gauge can’t tell, as they have no items on their person to give away what may have been their origins. His only hope is that whoever did this is long gone from here as he continues inside.

The ground is littered with various spent brass cartridges and shotgun hulls as he walks up the steps cautiously. He walks further through the front and follows the pungent odor to a blackened door on the right. He peeks in and instantly pulls back as he has to cover his nose with a hoof as the entire inside has been blackened and burnt and, by the smell of it, some chemicals were used as an accelerant. “Arson is bad, mmkay,” he mutters.

“Hey! What’er you doin’!” a young filly’s voice yells from his left. He looks over and sees a pink earth pony scowling at him from the door to what seems like the stairs up. “This is our spot, we found it first!”

An orange mare pokes her head out a bit, and uses a foreleg to grab the filly and pull her back into the stairwell as she eyeballs Gauge nervously. “We- we don’t want any trouble. There’s not much here anyway.”

“But Ma!” the filly cries from the stairwell before getting muffled by her mother’s hoof.

Gauge waves his forehooves. “I don’t want any trouble either, mmkay?” He looks around as he asks, “I’m just looking for some Sugar Apple Bomb toys to add to my collection, mmkay?” The mare tilts her head and Gauge smiles as he explains, “For a few months they were giving out collectable toys inside of the boxes of cereal. There’s one hundred and forty four of them in total.”

The little filly’s head pops out as she looks at him and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Are they valuable?”

Gauge shrugs. “They’re kinda rare, mmkay. But most just look at them as worthless toys. But, to the right pony? Yeah.” He grins widely. “I had a spare of a ‘Rarity’s Gem Mine’ and swapped it for a stack of caps. And that was a common one, mmkay!”

The little filly rolls her eyes. “Grown ups pay for the dumbest stuff.”

The mare snickers then nods behind her as she keeps her eyes on Gauge. “Only thing I’ve found upstairs is more bodies and cleaning supplies. But… if you want to look, go ahead, we won’t stop you.”

Gauge shakes his head. “No thanks, I’ll trust ya. I’ll poke around down here; sometimes you find them in that darndest places.” He looks at her and pulls back a bit as he asks quieter, “If that’s okay with you, mmkay?”

She nods and pulls back into the stairwell. “Works for me. Doesn’t sound like we’re in any competition with what we want, so no reason for any friction. Good luck!”

As they head back upstairs the filly’s voice whines, “But Maaa! What if he finds one of those Sugar Apple thingies?!”

Her mother replies softly, “Then it’s his. That’s how scavenging works, dear… You wouldn’t want anyone taking what you work hard to find, would you?”

“Well no,” the filly says glumly. But then says excitedly, “If I find one, think he’ll buy it?”

Her mother’s snicker fades as they get up to the second floor. “Maybe… you’ll have to ask him though. Now come along we have t-“ her voice is cut off as the door to the second floor closes and muffles the conversation.

Gauge turns around and starts looking around in the office. The entire place is burnt and his nose scrunches as he tries to sift through anything that might be useable. He even goes so far as to pull the metal filing cabinet away from the wall and looking behind it. But, no, whatever accelerant was used had scorched every open surface and the inside of the filing cabinet is full of burnt paper as well.

He lets out a sigh and turns to leave as he grumbles and repeats, “Arson’s bad, mmkay,” as he steps out of the office.

“Oh, I don’t know. I find a little slash and burn to be fucking hilarious at times.”

Gauge’s head whips to the right and he stares right down the barrel of a sawed off double-barrel shotgun being floated in a magical field by a smirking stallion with chains and rubber for barding.

“D- don’t shoot, mmkay!”

A mare steps up from Gauge’s left side as she looks him over. “Ohh what do we have here? Nice clean stallion out in the middle of the wastes?” She looks over at the other raider. “Think he took out our crew?”

The unicorn shakes his head. “Nah. That little pea shooter he has didn’t do all of this.”

An earth pony stallion comes from the back of the building and looks at Gauge from slightly behind the unicorn holding the shotgun. “What do ya wanna do with him? I mean, I have a pair of bomb collars still, could be worth a few caps…”

Gauge’s eyes go wide, and he starts shaking as the unicorn starts grinning and putting way more thought into it than Gauge would like.

“W- wait! Mmkay! You don’t want me!” Gauge pleads

The mare leans in and coos at him, “Ohhhh? Why’s that? Got something better for us?”

Gauge looks between them and his eyes dart towards the stairwell. “I- I-… You said you had two collars right? Well… I know where a pair of fillies are… take them instead! They’d be worth more, right? Mmmkay?”

They regard him for a moment and the unicorn stallion asks, “Where are they?”

Gauge looks over at him and swallows hard. “Promise to let me go?”

The unicorn motions with the shotgun. “Drop your piece. Empty out your saddle bags. And tell us where they are, and you can get out of here.”

The earth pony mare looks at him and frowns. “Awww come on… He’s actually had a bath! I’d love to dirty him up a bit first!”

Gauge quickly starts dumping out his saddlebags as he says, “S- sure… just… just let me go, mmkay?” He starts reaching for the pistol and the mare slaps him with a hoof before pulling it out herself and pointing it at him.

Her eyebrow arcs and she looks down at it as she mumbles around the mouth grip, “Eathan the gunth claan!”

Gauge looks around and holds his forehooves up. “T- that’s all I got, mmkay? Sorry.”

The unicorn looks down at the unopened can of food and partial bottle of water with the mixture of anciently rusted tools still wet from the puddle he’d picked them up from. “Damn you are pathetic.”

Gauge lowers his head and says softly, “S- sorry... Can I go, mmkay?”

The unicorn glares at him and tilts his head. “Where are they?”

Gauge nods over to the door. “They’re upstairs. A mare and her filly scavenging cleaning supplies.”

The earth pony stallion grins widely. “Really!?” He turns his head to look at the door then looks over at Gauge sideways. “They armed?”

Gauge shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anything. But, probably. She didn’t come out of the stairwell enough for me to see if she was.”

The unicorn moves the shotgun closer to Gauge and says with a smirk, “Yeah… so… you just stay there nice and quiet… Gotta make sure they’re here and this ain’t just some trick.”

The earth stallion turns and heads towards the door. “I’ll check!”

The unicorn rolls his eyes. “I swear you better not try and start fucking them before getting the bomb collars on. I don’t want a repeat of last time you horny bastard!”

The earth pony stallion chuckles as he starts through the door and heads up the stairs, “Yeah, yeah.” A few moments later there’s a metallic squeak from the stairwell and the stallion’s voice saying in a pleased voice, “Well hellllooo there gorgeous!”

The filly’s voice screeches, “Momma! Raiders!” And a loud metallic bang echoes down as the door gets slammed shut. Then loud hoof clops can be heard through the ceiling running down one of the hallways of the second floor.

The earth pony stallion lets out a bit of a pained laugh, “Ow! That one’s feisty! Slammed it right on my snoot.”

The unicorn nods behind him. “Go help him out.” The mare nods then heads up the stairs to join her friend as he starts hammering on the door to the second floor and tries to break the lock. The unicorn stares at Gauge for a few moments then nods over to the front door. “Go on. Get out of here you worthless fuck.”

Gauge nods and slinks over and away from him as he mutters, “Y- yeah… Thanks… mmkay.” Then runs out through the front door, makes a sharp turn, and starts barreling down the road away from the building as fast as his hooves will carry him. The whole time, completely ignoring the exchange of gunfire taking place in the building behind him as he’s making good on his own escape. He maintains his oblivious state to everything in the rest of the world, except his own sweet freedom and safety.

So the gap between the buildings right next to the one he’d fled isn’t even glanced into as he’s running.

Gearing leans out of the shadow between the buildings and glares contempt at Gauge’s retreating form as he mutters, “Fucking coward.” He pulls back and glares at the surprised looking raider standing right next to him. “Oh what are you looking at…” Gearing slaps them with a wing, causing their limp body to fall sideways as he pulls his sword out of their eye socket.

More gunshots come from the second floor and the young filly’s voice screams out in terror, “Momma!”

Gearing looks upwards and his eyes narrow as he flicks off the blood from the sword to the side. “Anope.”

* * *

Inside, the orange mare has made use of an apparent barricade that had been erected by the door of a room with a variety of metal cabinets, shelving, and other items. Though the entry door has been blasted away, from this side as far as she can tell, the rest of the room is relatively unscathed from the apparently shaped charge. Thanks to the barricade. Even so, she’s flipped over a couple tall cabinets and a couch a distance from the first barricade to use to hide herself, and her foal, from the raider that pokes their head in every now and then to take pot shots at her. From her position she can make out where she thinks he’s standing, and the dried blood and meaty decaying chunks strewn across the shelving and wall across the hall.

She can hear the stallion chuckle as a couple bullets impact into the wall near where he’s standing and him yell in to her from his position, “I keep telling you, this cabinet’s stopping every one of those…” He chuckles again and dares a quick peek in at her with just one eye before pulling back and avoiding a bullet zipping by him. “Come on, sweetheart. You don’t have enough bullets to keep this up forever, there’s far more of us than there are of you. So why don’t you just give up. We’re not going to hurt you…” He chuckles a bit then says with a lower tone that makes her mane crawl, “We’re just gonna have a bit of fun… then you two can make us a bit more caps when we sell you… Always buyers for a couple fresh fillies…”

The mare snorts as she looks at the guns around her hooves. She’s got quite an arsenal, but he’s right, she’s already running out of ammo for several of them. She does her best to hide the wounds on her left side as she looks to her daughter on the right. She leans towards the little filly and smiles at her as she whispers, “Okay sweetie… I need you to do something for momma. Okay?”

The little pink filly looks up at her and her eyes zip around as she asks softly, “W- what is it, Momma?”

She slides a stack of ammo that she’d pulled out earlier towards the filly. “Take this.” She does obediently and, as she is stowing it, her mother says softly, “Now, honey, this is going to be scary, but I need you to trust me. Okay?”

Her daughter looks up at her and raises an eyebrow as she asks softly, “What, Momma?”

The mare nods behind the filly to a broken window. “I’m going to throw you through the window.” The filly’s eyes shoot wide and before she can say anything the mare puts a hoof to her muzzle. “Don’t scream!” She sighs. “I can get you to the roof of the building next door. It’s not far. I’m sure you could even jump it if you really wanted. But I need you to get over there onto the roof.”

The filly looks over at the window then scrunches her mouth to the other side. “You want me to… shoot them from over there?”

The mare shakes her head, then shoots a couple more rounds at the door blindly as she saw something move out of the corner of her eye and hears the stallion let out a ‘yip’ as one of those got particularly close this time. She reaches over and cradles the filly’s cheek. “I need you… to climb down to the first level, and sneak away, then run.” She shakes her head as she leans into the filly. “And run. And run, and run as fast as you can.” She touches her forehead to the filly’s as she smiles. “And don’t stop running until you get to Megamac… understand?”

The filly looks up at her then blinks a few times before she asks softly, “But… but what about you, Momma?”

The mare sits up and glares at the doorway as she tries to keep the filly from noticing the tears breaking through her willpower. “I’ll be fine, sweetie. You get to Megamac, and get help.” She looks over at the filly and sees the horror in her daughter’s eyes. She leans over, wraps a hoof around her daughter’s head and smiles as she says with a choke, “I’m tough, remember? And I’ll be fine. I just need you to be safe… If you’re in Megamac, I can take care of these bad ponies, okay?”

The filly looks up and a moment later bursts into tears as she jumps forward and wraps her forehooves around her mother’s neck. “No, Momma! That’s what Daddy said, and he never came back!”

“Sweetie… sweetie, please!” She starts crying as she nuzzles her daughter. “I can’t lose you too, okay? Please. Just do this for momma.” The filly wails into her neck and holds on tightly as she fiercely shakes her head and refuses to let go of her mother. The mare looks over at the door as she hears a dull thump in the hallway. She wraps the filly in closer as she stares at the doorway and has her rifle pointed right at it. She sniffles and tries to keep her eyes clear as she tries to keep quiet but her voice ends up cracking louder than she’d intended as she not so quietly prays, “Dammit! Luna, protect my little girl… please… She’s all I got.”

She uses her foreleg and wipes her eyes quickly as she stares at the door and tries to figure out how she could throw the filly through the window. A hoofball toss would work, but the little one is as stubborn as her father, and would simply run back in from the first floor to help. She blinks a few times as she stares at the growing puddle of blood creeping across the floor of the hallway.

“I hate to ruin the moment, and I’m damn sure not Luna… But I do make house calls… so, uh… yeah. Save your prayers and ammo.”

The orange mare’s ears perk up and twist towards the door as she tries to place the voice. That’s not one of the ones she’s heard thus far. She chuckles and asks as she sights down the rifle. “Oh? Just like that? Suddenly going to just let us go?” She shakes her head lightly. “Fucking raiders, must think I have stupid written on my forehead.”

The stallion that’s been tormenting and teasing them for the last while’s head bops from the relative safety behind the cabinetry into the middle of the doorway. At the bottom of the doorframe.

Then it rolls more to the side and it becomes quite obvious nothing else is still attached at the moment.

“Well, I’m no raider. And we’re the only three left alive in this building… sooo… yeah… You two okay in there?”

“Who the hell are you?!” she yells back as she keeps twisting her ears trying to hear if anyone else is around. She knows they can’t be coming from above, the only stairs up there is to the right of this doorway and no one's made it past yet.

“Nopony special. Just a repairpony looking for supplies for my latest project.” Gearing’s combat helmeted brass head pokes around the edge as he asks, “Sooo we good? Or you going to try and shoot me too just for helping?”

The mare’s eyes go wide as she stares at him. “F- for real?”

Gearing reaches over and straightens up the head of the stallion so it’s looking in at her. “Well, this damn sure ain’t no puppet…”

“Momma! You’re bleeding!” the filly screeches as she pulls away and notices the blood down the front of both of them.

The mare looks at her and groans as she shakes her head, “I’ll be fine just-“ She zips her head to the left and her eyes go wide as Gearing practically appears right in front of her and lands next to her with his wings still high in the air as he looks her over.

Gearing uses a wing to pull her coat back to look at her gut shot, apparent repeated gut shot at that, and his other wing to keep her rifle pointed towards the door. “No, that needs looked at.” He looks at her as he turns and jumps back into the air. “Just don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

He zips into the hallway then a few moments later he comes back in with a satchel. “Come on, get that jacket off.”

She tries to wave it away, but quickly finds herself pushed back to the ground near the far wall by his overwhelming bulk as he’s pulling her jacket back. Gearing pulls out a bottle with a wing and hands it to the little filly as he says, “Open this and give it to her, slowly, don’t let her choke on it.” He pulls out a few wads of bandages and starts packing the injuries to stem the flow of blood as he starts looking her over. “And you, quit moving around so much, unless you wanna make your daughter an orphan.”

She lays back against the far wall, keeping her eye on the doorway as he tends to her and she grunts in pain. “Y- you sure they’re gone?”

Gearing nods. “Only hostile readings are a stupid radroach next door.”

She lays back and carefully drinks the potion offered to her by her daughter. She winces and Gearing says flatly, “Sorry. No Med-X. Just relax.” He pulls out a bottle of water without looking and hands it to her daughter. “Here. This’ll help a bit too. Again, sip on it… need to keep your fluids up.”

She just nods and helps him take off her jacket, as he uses a few items and pulls out a couple pieces of metal from her side, flicking them away before packing the wound. “I thought you Steel Ranger types were only interested in technology?”

The filly shakes her head. “He’s not a Steel Ranger, Momma…” She looks at Gearing and grins widely. “He’s too pretty to be a Steel Ranger. They’re only that nasty gray.” She sticks her tongue out in disgust at the thought as she carefully holds the bottle of water and lets her mother sip from it periodically.

Gearing chuckles, “Well, thank you little one.” He looks at her and grins widely. “I think you’re pretty too.” The mother scowls at him and he lets out a sigh as he rolls his eyes. “I’m not a pervert, I just like kids, okay?”

She looks at him and lets out a sigh. “How many you got?”

Gearing shakes his head as he finishes up the bandage. “None. Probably never will.” He starts pulling down her jacket as he looks in her face and gives a weak smirk. “Not lucky enough for that.”

She reaches over and pulls the filly towards her, kissing her daughter on the head before looking up at Gearing. “Never know. Sometimes it happens when you least expect it.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and looks around as he kicks on his E.F.S. long enough to do a quick 360. “Accidents may happen for others, but not me.”

She lets out a sigh and leans back into the wall as she waves a hoof around. “Alright, Shiny, what’s this rescue gonna cost me? What are you looking for?”

Gearing turns back and looks at her before tilting his head. “Actually, I just came here to grab the shelving from that hardware store across the street.” He points a wing in the direction as he shrugs. “Not like I used any ammo… hell, the potion I just gave you came from their stash too.” He shrugs. “Didn’t cost me anything but a bit of time…” He waves a wing back towards the door. “You can have all of their stuff too. I’m going to be too loaded with shelving to take any of it anyway… But you really should go get some rest somewhere safe.”

She nods and smiles up at him weakly. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Gearing feels a tug on his left wing and looks over to see the pink filly looking up at him. “Yes, little one?”

She holds up a small clear plastic bag with some kind of toy and paper inside of it. “Here. You saved my momma. I want you to have it.”

Her mother looks at it and smiles as she slowly shakes her head. She opens her mouth to try and tell her otherwise, but gets cut off as Gearing graciously accepts it with his wings. “Well thank you!” He holds it up and turns it over in his wings a bit before he carefully sets it into his saddle bag. “I’ll treasure it.” He snaps to attention and salutes her with a big smile. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

The little filly giggles and sloppily mocks him. “Yeah!” She waves her hoof at the bag and says excitedly, “A stinky gray stallion told me those are worth a lot of caps.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he looks at her but then looks over at her mother as she shakes her head lightly and adds, “Just like anything, it’s gotta be to the right buyer… at least that’s what he said…” She frowns and looks up at Gearing. “So, was that gray stallion a scout for the raiders, or did they get him too?”

Gearing shakes his head. “No, they got all of his stuff but he managed to high tail it down the road.”

“Oh… well… good.” She lets out a sigh. “Glad not shooting him didn’t come back and bite me.”

Gearing looks her over again as he asks, “You going to be okay?”

She smiles up at him. “Yeah. I think so. That potion’s done a pretty good job. We’ll hurry up and get whatever we can off these bastards then hole up for the night somewhere. I know a safe spot nearby.”

Gearing nods and starts heading towards the nearby broken window. “Great. Take care you two.” He hops out through it, and takes flight, landing in front of the hardware store before trotting inside.

The filly looks out the window with her mouth hanging open for a few moments before she looks down at her mother. “Momma… He’s definitely not a Steel Ranger… he flew!”

The mother chuckles as she shakes her head. “Repairpony that makes house calls?” She shakes her head and chuckles again. “What’s the wasteland coming to?” She looks up into the sky through the window and smiles widely as her tears resume. “Thank you, Luna.” She grabs the filly and yanks her down into an oppressive hug as she sobs, “Thank you so much.”

* * *

As Gearing walks in through the Stable 68 main door loaded down with a large stack of shelving material, Sable gives him a friendly smile from the control panel. Once he’s through she activates the door and starts it closing again as she asks, “Would you like some assistance carrying that, Gearing my love?”

Gearing smiles and shakes his head as he continues inside. “No. I got it… But.” He gives her a little nuzzle cheek to cheek before he asks quietly, “Is Gauge inside?” She looks at him sideways and, noticing his volume, simply nods. “Has anything… happened?”

She pulls away from him for a moment and looks him over as she says softly, “No.” She stares at him a few more moments and finally asks, “What is wrong, my love? You look… perplexed?”

Gearing starts walking by and whispers in her ear. “Gauge is not to be trusted. Monitor him when he comes and goes, and don’t let him bring in anyone else with him without getting permission from Swift, Handy, or me.”

She looks him over and asks softly, “Should I inform them of the suspicion?”

Gearing shakes his head. “I can’t prove anything right now…” He starts walking away as he mutters, “All I know is he’s a coward.”

After they drop off shelves in the R&D department with the rest of the growing hydroponics supplies, Gearing heads back upstairs. Following his PipBuck he finds Gauge sitting at a table alone in the area that had once been Stable 68’s cafeteria. Gearing slips up near Gauge and watches as Gauge seems to stare off into space, but munches on flakes of the stable’s infamous algae chips.

Gearing stares at Gauge’s mark in silence as he debates on how to go about this. The blue framed steam gauge is an oddity, like Gauge. Most of the dial is red, with only the tiniest sliver of a green zone, and the indicator pointing firmly in the yellow zone. Marks are supposed to be personal. Have some kind of deeper meaning and connection to what a pony’s good at. Gearing doesn’t know what it could be saying about Gauge, but realizes it definitely doesn’t stand for handling pressure well. Not with what he knows now.

“Hey, Gauge, those thing’s any good?” Gearing asks as he steps a few times harder than necessary to let him know he’s entering the area.

Gauge spins around wide eyed and stares at him for a moment. “Oh… uh… Hi.” He looks at the plate then frowns. “Not really, mmkay. But better than nothing, right?”

Gearing waves a hoof. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. Maybe if we can get some of the other plants going there’d be more to eat.” Come on, Gauge, say something.

Gauge nods and grins. “That would be amazing, mmkay!”

Gearing looks Gauge over and takes note of the empty holster. He points at it, trying to give him an excuse. “I hope wherever you left your sidearm is safe. Remember, we have a lot more foals running around now. And quite a few of them have sticky hooves and get into things they probably shouldn’t…” Here’s your chance, bit late but you can still redeem yourself.

Gauge looks at him then down at his holster. His eyes go wide as he looks around quickly then he gives a nervous chuckle. “Oh… No… they didn’t take it… No… It’s safe… away from their hooves… put away… mmkay?” He gives Gearing a cringe-worthy and unconvincing half-smile.

Gearing turns and starts walking away. “Well that’s good. It’s important to be mindful of your actions, and their consequences. Let me know if you need any help with anything.” He keeps looking over his shoulder at Gauge as he walks away. Say something you piece of shit!

Gauge waves it away and takes a bite of algae chips. As he looks at Gearing and talks with a mouthful of the flaky material he says, “Yeah. Thanks. Take it easy.” Then goes back to eating mindfully as he seems to try and hurry up to get through the apparently unpleasant task.

Gearing continues walking, watching him for a while. Then gives him a wave with a wing and a smile as he’s walking through the exit door to go back to R&D. Yup… I’m probably going to have to kill his fucking ass before he sells out the stable to save his own skin. As Gearing makes a turn to go down to the lower levels he snarls at the thought. Fucking traitors!

He continues down the halls as quickly as his hooves can take him, without running, in a straight line towards R&D. He keeps a scowl across his muzzle as he debates on what he needs to do. He knows, without a doubt, he needs time to figure out the correct course of action. And, if nothing else, he needs to give himself something else to do, instead of doing something stupid like he’d very much like to do at the moment.

He’d given Gauge every opportunity to fess up, or, at the very least ask for help with the situation. He’d blatantly offered a blank check for helping, a possible solution and bit of redemption, and Gauge was still not willing to show even an iota of consideration for another pony’s life.

But, no, Gauge was far more content, and apparently comfortable, with setting up some little foal and her mother to a life of abuse, rape, and eventually, but probably not soon enough, death.

By the time Gearing gets to the R&D department, he’s managed to conceal his scowl of disgust behind a mask of deep thought. He walks in through the decontamination chamber, and sees Sable dutifully organizing the supplies and equipment based on the instructions he’d left.

Sable turns her head to look at him as she is moving one of the shelves he’d recently brought in from the neat stack nearby onto the workbench in front of her. “Welcome back, my darling. Shall we work together to finish this?”

Gearing walks over and grabs a terminal that he’d taken from one of the rooms in the residential wing. “Not at the moment. I have something else I need to work on now.” He heads over and takes it into the storage room where he’d originally found the protectaponies and sets it on a shelf just below eye level before heading back out.

Sable watches him as he’s coming out, catching eye contact with Gearing as he’s exiting, and asks, “Would you like some assistance with your new project?”

Gearing shakes his head as he grabs a small box of mixed fasteners from the workbench. “No. Go ahead and keep working on that. I’ll help you once I’m done in here…” He turns around and starts heading back in as he looks over his shoulder at her. “I have a lot that I need to get through, please make sure I’m not disturbed.”

She stares at him with a rigid posture as he enters the once secret room. “Of course, Gearing. If that is what you wish.” He doesn’t respond, and she continues watching him as he turns around the corner and goes out of sight into the back area of the hidden compartment. She stays there. Motionless. Watching the doorway for a few moments longer in silence. Then, after apparently coming to some conclusion, goes back to getting the shelving materials modified so they can make the hydroponics racks Gearing has planned.

Inside the room, and away from the sliding door, Gearing sets up another workspace.

He needs to keep himself busy, and this is the best thing he can think of to do at the moment. While he keeps his hooves, wings, and every other segment of his body that might be able to grab a weapon and put down a traitor busy with manual labor, he diverts his mind as well by trying to learn what’s happened since he was knocked out. On the terminal sitting on the shelf, he loads up all of the written documentation he’d downloaded while in Megamac, and queues up a list of audio recordings based on timestamps on his PipBuck. He organizes all of the information, on both devices, so he can go through it in the order it happened and start putting together a timeline of events with the two.

It still won’t be a complete picture, he realizes this as the databases those MWT terminals had access to were limited, but it’ll be a solid start.

It takes him a bit to get the setup ready, but that’s fine by him. As the entire exercise is meant to be a distraction and time killer as it is. To give him time to think. And cool down. And do something else with his hooves besides pummel some fool whose pressure gauge cutie mark probably directly correlates to the noxious gas he’s full of.

But, the inane nature of most of the repetitive documents from the start of his search doesn’t help his mood at all. He’d hoped to find something about his own disappearance. But no. There’s no mention at all of him going missing. He checks each document for a month’s worth carefully, before starting to simply skim and speed read through.

He spends less and less time on it, being so annoyed that it’s hard to focus. Eventually he starts jumping around and down the lists. He decides he’ll come back later. Maybe have Sable’s help with the documents. But, after getting within two months of the Last Day, Gearing starts going far slower. The documents start getting more detailed, and providing far more information. He skips over the ones that are obviously of the ‘Standard Report’ type, and focuses more on the ones that aren’t.

Even in the basic documents, and despite the form being plain text, the tension comes across clearly. In every word. Even two hundred years later he can feel it. Things had been getting worse, and then something caused a sharp turn for the darker.

And that was before even getting into the audio files.

Gearing wanted something else to think about, and keep his mind focused on. Something else to worry about.

He found it.

Footnote: Stabilizing ‘credential matrix’, please stand by. . .

Loading of ‘Blue Mac credential’ complete. . . awaiting matrix stabilization.

‘credential matrix’ buffering. . .

Author's Note

This chapter reveals a variety of things, including a personality conflict that isn't likely to end well for someone eventually. Leaving the stable always leads to something, and this trip is no different. Also sets a few other things in motion that'll fall into place later.

Thanks for all the help with this project. From the regular interest to my beta readers, the assistance is amazing. Thank you all!

Comments, questions, and critiques welcome as always.

-Quillsy

27 Price of Knowledge

Gearing grumpily works on a collection of small equipment with his eyes darting down just long enough each time to make sure what he’s doing. All the while he spends most of his time reading from the terminal on the shelf in front of him. A lot of the salvage from the M.W.T. bunker, especially the higher end pieces that he was most keen on acquiring, was stored in this once hidden space while he slept. The advantage this provides him currently is one where he doesn’t need to leave to keep working on his current project. He doesn’t have to worry about breaking his momentum and derailing into doing something stupid.

Though, it provides an exceptional disadvantage by not having anything else to ease his annoyance and leaving him with nothing better to do but stew in his own frustrations. But, the target and source of frustration slowly shifts. The current problems with Gauge takes a back seat to the more pressing concerns showing up before his eyes on the screen. In plain text.

Despite multitasking by reading the terminal, he makes steady progress on repurposing the electronics as he reads messages and skips over standard reports for now. Through his digging he finds a subarchive of messages and recordings from a maintenance detachment that apparently did something to warrant constant monitoring. All of their interoffice messages were copied and directed to the archive for review. Gearing knows this wasn’t exactly unique, and it didn’t take a whole lot to get your actions scrutinized more. But that’s not what drew him to this particular archive.

According to the auto-naming function of the archive, this archive had been updated after the bombs had dropped. He’s not entirely sure when. The time stamp sections are corrupted, but the incremental nature of the files bumped it to the top of the list for being the most recently updated. But, he’s not interested in interoffice gossip, and he’s given up on trying to find anything on his own about his own disappearance for now, so he picks up reading where he thinks might be the beginning of September.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-174
From: Billiard
To: Fizzy Road
Subject: Blowing this popsicle stand

With everything going on, I’m sooo looking forward to my trip with Annie in a couple weeks. I know the middle of October is off season, and a bit more chill than we’d normally like, but it’d give us a good reason to snuggle up in the tents more. All of this work is getting to me, and I’m worried what it’s going to do to my marriage if this keeps up.

Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to have everything on my list done by then, and I’ll even do a bit of extra checking on a few things to make sure it won’t break on you while I’m gone. At least, no more than you can handle. I hope.

Look on the bright side. If this turns out like our last trips, you’ll probably end up with a new god son. Statistics demands it doesn’t it? The streak of nothing but fillies has to end eventually. Right?

Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make my vacation less of a hassle on you.

Bill

Gearing frowns as he looks down and takes a few more brackets out of the piece he’s working on. “Middle of October, huh? Most don’t choose to go on vacation during off season… which means he didn’t have much choice in the matter.” He lets out a sigh and shakes his head as he opens the next one and says, “At least he got one more vacation in before it all went to hell…”

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-175
From: Fizzy Road
To: Billiard
CC: Molly
Subject: Re: Time to blow this popsicle stand

Bill, I hate to be the one to burst your little fantasy bubble… but you’re DOOMED to a life of being the only buck in your household. Even your dog’s a girl, and that’s your own fault. You picked her.

And, sorry bud, you’re going nowhere. A memo just crossed my desk and we’re on a blackout schedule until further notice. All scheduled vacations are canceled as well. Maybe you can ‘pitch a tent’ in your backyard?

Fiz

Gearing stops in mid twist of the screwdriver as he stares at the screen, reading it again. Personal gender imbalance trials of the maintenance pony aside, this provides a crumb of what he’s looking for.

A time-off blackout.

In and of itself, it wouldn’t have been such a flag for Gearing. But, this one was apparently sudden, unscheduled, and preempted everything else. Even ones that had been authorized already. That wouldn’t have been done lightly. That’s a morale killer. That kind of thing leads to lost deposits, ruined plans, angry ponies, and a serious loss of trust and respect of those in charge.

What’s more, it was indefinite.

Knowing what he knows now, by being on this side of the Apocalypse, he can understand the need for everyone to do all they could for the war effort. To keep Equestria going at all costs. Because he knows how it turned out. So it’d be justifiable.

Except, they didn’t have the benefit of his twenty-twenty hindsight perspective to make decisions on.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-176
From: Billiard
To: Fizzy Road
CC: Molly
Subject: Re: Re: Time to blow this popsicle stand

Are you fucking KIDDING me?! Fiz. Please. Tell me you’re joking. I’ll still buck you in the balls for it, but we can still be friends.

Molly, tell me he’s joking. I’m begging you here. We’ve had this trip planned for almost a year and it was cleared months ago. Between the growing overtime, and my kids’ school, I haven’t even seen any of my children in weeks. At least not with them awake. My marriage is fraying. I NEED this time off!

Bill

Gearing nods as he taps the screwdriver on the crate he’s using as a bench.

The little blue pegasus in his head underlines and points at parts on the screen as it unnecessarily confirms, Ruined plans and angry ponies! Check and check!

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-177
From: Molly
To: Billiard
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Time to blow this popsicle stand

Dammit, Fiz! I wanted to talk to him in person about this!

Bill, I’m sorry, but the short answer is Fiz’s right. Word came down that all vacations and time off is postponed until further notice. And, yes, that includes you. Swing by my office and we can talk about it more face to face. I am sorry about this, I know Annie and the kids have been looking forward to the trip.

But, don’t try that guilt trip on me, Bill. One, I have no control over it. And two, that filly of yours is so devoted to you she’d buck the Caesar in the balls, with their whole army watching, just to make you happy. She’s going nowhere, and we all know it. Here’s hoping this doesn’t last long. And, I promise, I’ll approve your next vacation as soon as this blackout is lifted.

Molly

Gearing shakes his head as he looks over the message. That’s another problem with doing something like this. It damages relationships with supervisors as they’re the ones trying to pick up the pieces and deal with the direct backlash.

He sets the piece he’s working on aside and replaces it with a new one. He begins to start removing the parts as he thinks about this growing puzzle and continues down the list.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-178
From: Billiard
To: Molly
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Time to blow this popsicle stand

Just because she’s willing to put up with the nonsense being married to me throws at her, doesn’t mean she SHOULD have to suffer through it. I’ll break it to her.

Can you at least tell me WHY we’re going so hardcore with the maintenance checks? It’s not like we’re having a swarm of breakdowns suddenly.

Bill

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-179
From: Molly
To: Billiard
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Time to blow this popsicle stand

No idea. They’ve only told us they want all hooves on deck until further notice.

Molly

Gearing taps on the crate with the screwdriver as he stares at the screen. “Her tone changed.” He taps ever faster as he looks at the screen. “She knew something about why they were being overworked.”

He queues up the next chain and steadily taps with the screwdriver as he reads.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-180
From: Billiard
To: Molly
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: What’s going on?

Have either of you two been able to figure out what’s going on with these orders? I had to cancel my vacation for THIS? This makes no sense at all. These tickets have me going all over practically every tunnel and into every access hatch.

Repeatedly.

What, they think we’re skimping out on our preventative maintenance schedule or something?

Bill

“Oh yeah, they knew something… but who? And why the hell use maintenance?” Gearing mutters as he taps on the crate and begins paying less attention to the piece of electronics in front of himself.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-181
From: Fizzy Road
To: Molly
CC: Billiard
Subject: Re: What’s going on?

Join the club, pal. You’re not the only one. I’ve started keeping track of this a little while ago. Something smells off about this whole setup. It’s more like they are trying to have us do patrols, instead of doing maintenance. Most of the ‘tickets’ I’ve gotten were complete wastes of time. Nothing was wrong. Nothing needed to be done.

By what I’ve been keeping track of, they’ve been having at least one of us go to different areas at regular intervals. Not to mention ‘checking’ on equipment that one of us literally ‘checked’ the day before.

And, if you think we’ve got it bad here, you should see what I’ve found out about what’s going on in Hoofington! Those poor, poor bastards. You have any idea how many miles of tunnels are under that city? And they’re having maintenance do the same crap there that they are having us do here. It makes no sense. It’s such a waste of resources. We’re burning ourselves out on wild goose chases.

Molly, can you give us any more information about this?

What are they REALLY having us look for? Are they hoping we stumble across some zebra infiltrators? Should I start carrying my piece?

Fiz

Gearing starts tapping rhythmically on the crate with the screwdriver and seems to forget about the piece of equipment in front of himself that’s half disassembled.

Sable pokes her head into the room, following the sound, and looks over at Gearing as he seems to impersonate a one pegasi drum roll with the screwdriver with his attention focused on the screen. She stares for a few moments, and then pulls back and out without saying anything and leaving him to his thoughts.

This was one of the problems with having competent help, and trying to do something covert around them. They were likely to catch on. Which would lead you to either bringing them into the fold, or eliminate them, one way or another. Gearing realizes this Fizzy Road was definitely onto something, and was very proactive about it.

The only reason Gearing can think of them to do something like this was, indeed, to find something, or someone. Most likely something that would be placed and left. A bomb? Piece of equipment? Surveillance? Espionage?

The bomb?

Gearing knows Fizzy wasn’t exaggerating about Hoofington’s tunnel systems. If this is what they were doing with the extra ponyhours in the day they were demanding, they were indeed getting desperate about something.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-182
From: Molly
To: Fizzy Road
CC: Billiard
Subject: Re: Re: What’s going on?

Fizzy, knock off with the conspiracy theories and focus on your job. We’re supposed to do whatever we’re told to do, even if it’s a ‘waste of time’ in your opinion. And stop bothering the other maintenance hubs personnel with information requests.

Molly

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at the screen. “That’s… an odd reply…” He partially closes his eye as he asks softly, “Did she know they were being watched?”

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-183
From: Fizzy Road
To: Molly
CC: Billiard
Subject: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

Wow. That’s a mighty… ‘patriotic’ reply there, Molly. Or should I say “Molly’s Pink Overmare Replacement”? Or how about “Ministry of Morale agent”?

You refuse to even let us know what we’re dealing with?

This ain’t right.

Fiz

Gearing nods and purses his lips to the side. “Ah… that explains it. Smart buck like that and probably has a tendency of making off color jokes. Probably has a habit of saying stuff like that, and that’s why they were watching the team as a whole. To see if the ‘malcontent’ affected others…” Gearing shakes his head. “Fastest way to get on a MoM list was making negative comments about MoM.”

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-184
From: Molly
To: Fizzy Road
CC: Billiard
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

“Pink Overmare Replacement”? Really? You need to just focus on your work. That’s not funny and I’m not kidding.

Gearing narrows his eyes and partially frowns. “Oh yeah. She knew.”

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-185
From: Fizzy Road
To: Molly
CC: Billiard
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

Neither am I.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-186
From: Billiard
To: Molly
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

Boy, I sure do love my job! Work, work, work! Smile! Smile! Smile!

Thinking not required and strongly discouraged! Not a single thought in my big ole smiling head!

Gearing can’t help but snicker as he sees the blatant attempt by Billiard at diffusing a tense situation. But, both bucks have a point. Something’s really wrong with this. Even Gearing would agree with them.

But someone deemed it necessary, which is what’s bothering him.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-187
From: Fizzy Road
To: Billiard
CC: Molly
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

Bill. This. This right here. This is why we’re best friends. Remember, my house is your house. Even when it’s a cardboard box because we’ve both been fired for not smiling enough and end up homeless.

Your soon-to-be boxmate,

Fiz

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-188
From: Molly
To: Billiard
CC: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: What’s going on?

I want both of you in my office first thing Monday morning. I need to talk to you two about this bromance of yours. It’s gotten out of hand.

Molly

PS: Don’t forget to smile ;)

Gearing continues to tap on the crate with a steady mechanical half second pace. She was trying to walk the line of being a good supervisor, and a good friend. Reading between the lines of the exchange, Gearing thinks this supposed crackdown is really the precursor to her letting them know they need to watch themselves while at work.

Nothing he’d seen thus far would label any of them as bad ponies. In fact, they were exceptional. Putting up with untold bullshit and suffering to do their part. Others would, and have, quit over less. The fact they stuck it out speaks volumes about them.

But, even so, getting in the crosshairs of MoM or an internal investigation was never a good thing. And they were already at least at stage one of that. Sometimes allegations alone were enough to ruin someone.

Gearing opens up the next file and finds that, instead of more correspondence, it’s an audio log recording attached to the document with relevant information about the recording. The autogenerated text is nothing of interest, an explanation of where it was recorded from and the trigger being an outbound call made in the room to an unsecured line on the watch list, but the audio itself quickly starts commanding Gearing’s undivided attention.

Once past the corrupted and staticky beginning that is.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-189
”… tzzzz tsshhh…”

“-orry- … -ouble shifts aren’t fai- … Well this overtime can’t last forever. Don’t worry, I have plans for Hearth Warming that’ll put smiles on their faces… Yes… Well, of course I wanna see a smile on your face too. Especially if I’m the one that’s putting it there…”

The buck’s voice takes a slight turn into flirty territory and Gearing takes note of how he sounds. Rather soft spoken. Somepony that sounds more like they’d fit in as a librarian. Or maybe a doctor with a decent bedside manner? Gearing chuckles as he hears the buck’s voice blurt out suddenly with thick surprise.

“Hon! These lines are monitored you know that, right?! Oh… oh my… Really now? Well, if you insist…”

Gearing narrows his eyes and stares at the screen as he knows that tone. He’s used it a lot himself. Especially when a certain filly’s got it in her mind that there’s ‘better’ things he could be doing at the moment. It’s the sound of resignation… but secretly not exactly hating it. Gearing smirks as he can imagine himself in this buck’s place, with Sable driving the situation.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can squeeze in another massage session today… Wear whatever you want… No, no, nothing is the end result you can’t just start there. We-”

A sharp squeal interrupts the message. At first Gearing isn’t sure if it’s another corruption point in the audio, as everything else had simultaneously cut out. But, no. The squealing is the recording. Then the buck’s voice comes over it.

“Hold on…”

The squeal turns into a beep, that’s quickly followed by many others. The sounds grow into a deafening chorus like mechanical cicadas have filled up the room the recording is taking place in.

Over all of it, and growing from the background, are an increasing number of other sirens.

Gearing knows those sirens, and realizes what the audio managed to catch while spying on the maintenance pony. At the same moment he realizes he’s listening to the beginning of the end, he hits the crate a bit harder than intended and sends the screwdriver he’d been tapping with clattering across the room towards the door.

Through the audio he can imagine, in vivid detail, how things went down around this buck.

“Oh gods.”

There’s a clattering over the audio as the phone’s apparently been dropped and the buck’s gone rustling around in the alcove of the systems monitoring closet.

“They did it… they really did it.”

Then the phone gets picked back up and he starts screaming.

“Annie! Grab the kids and RUN! N- NO! We don’t have time! You remember that access hatch we used when you got pregnant with Dahl? Bring them there, come through, and take the first right, then just keep running. Oh! And tell Daisy I brought Mr. Ruffles to work with me today to keep me company. Well NO but she’s not going to leave the house without it! Hon… Annie… I love you… I’ll see you soon.”

There’s a series of frantic typing as Billiard continues to repeat over and over.

“Run. Please. Run, Annie. Run as fast as you can. Please make it.”

After a bit longer Billiard seems to realize the receiver is still sitting there and a click sounds it being replaced before the security audio ends a few moments later as Billiard continues to frantically type.

Sable pokes her head in again, and looks down at the screwdriver where it had been accidentally cast aside. It lays there, unused, and completely forgotten. Apparently like every other bit of work Gearing had intended to still be doing at the moment.

Instead he’s staring wide eyed at the screen as the audio echoes through his mind.

He knows those systems, probably about as well as Billiard did. A series of early warning alarms. First ones were confirmed launches. The second series. They were the more problematic of them all. The louder ones. Those were the system spazzing about confirmed detonations being detected. The time delay was too short between the launch alarms and the detonation confirmations.

Which means bombs made it through, and detonated, without being detected. And the others were just the follow up salvo.

“But how could that possibly be-“

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He stops as he hangs his head and it dawns on him. “The bombs were already here. They weren’t fired, they were delivered.” He starts using a shaky wing to bring up the next files as he asks no one in particular, “Is that what they were trying to find in the tunnels? Someone knew? And they had to use maintenance to do it ‘accidentally’ to keep word from being leaked that they were on to the ploy?”

The blue pegasus nods grimly and confirms, It’s what we’d do if we were trying to be sneaky about it.

Neither of them notices Sable withdraw again.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-190
From: Fizzy Road
To: Billiard
Subject: Made it

Hey, Bill.

Thanks for the warning! I wasn’t sure what was going on at first. Molly and me made it into a side juncture in time. Her husband didn’t make it. Rue, remember him? A skywagon came out of nowhere and crashed right onto him. There one second. A red glue spot the next.

It happened right in front of Molly as we were getting to the tunnel access. Now that the adrenalin’s wearing off, she’s starting to fall apart. All she can do is sit in the corner and shake. I’m going to give her some time before I start to try and push her to do anything.

We’re safe and decently stocked over here, and I’ve already checked on the MWT issue Geiger counters. Already found a few places that are practically giving it a stroke, so go easy on the Radaway over there, we’re going to need to make that stretch.

And our air recycling system seems to be functioning, but that’s where the good news ends.

We’re stuck over here, Bill. I’ve checked the pipes and they’re contaminated. So the only water we have is what’s bottled or comes with the booze and colas we can pry out of the vending machines in the break room.

We have a while, so no rush. But we’re going to need help to get out of here and join you from your side. The side tunnels have either collapsed or been too irradiated to even joke about going through, and only a couple of the other ways even seem functional. But, I’m sure, with both of us working on it from both sides we can clear a path and join up.

Then we can get to work and be one big happy family.

Just think about it, you won’t be the only buck under the roof anymore! Best friends until the end!

See you soon, buddy.

Fiz

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-191
From: Billiard
To: Fizzy Road
Subject: Re: Made it

I’m glad to hear it, it sucks about Rue though. He was a good buck and we could have really used the extra hoofpower. Anypony that could live with and handle Molly’s gotta be a tough one for sure. Keep an eye on her for me, ok? I can only imagine what I’d do if I’d lost my Annie.

We’re all fine over here. Annie’s helping to get them settled in and keep them calm while I make sure everything’s going to hold. We’ll start working on getting through to you two shortly. We’re going to have to use the intercom system to coordinate this, but it’ll be doable. I’ll talk with you in a bit once I get you on the line.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-192
From: Fizzy Road
To: Billiard
Subject: Stop what you’re doing and READ this!

Bill, we got a problem! Be careful of any areas you open. I don’t know what’s going on, but me and Molly ran into somepony that’d completely lost their minds. I mean, looking at them, I can understand why. They look like they’d been completely roasted, but somehow STILL alive. The pain must have been unbearable. She jumped at me hissing and screaming gibberish and just kept kicking and biting at me. She introduced herself by taking a plug out of my right thigh when she jumped out of the shadows.

If Molly wasn’t there, I’d probably be dead right now. She beat that freak’s head in with a hammer until she stopped moving. And then a bit more just to be sure.

I can only imagine the number of ponies that made it down into the tunnels. It’d make sense for being the safest place from the bombs. But they weren’t prepared for the fire and radiation. There’s nowhere for them to go, and won’t be enough supplies down there.

Bill, I hate to be this way, but desperate ponies are capable of horrible things. Don’t take any risks.

I don’t know if it was related, but she didn’t jump out until after a broom had fell over and knocked over some turpentine cans. So, maybe it was the noise that lured her or startled her or whatever? Just stay safe over there.

Fiz

Ghouls, Gearing realizes. They had to of been a ghoul. Feral at that. How fast was the transformation if they were already dealing with those things, Gearing wonders. He closes his eyes and realizes he can’t really fault Fiz for his warning. He was right. And any of them who left the tunnels to search for supplies would die from the radiation. They were trapped.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-193
To: Fizzy Road
From: Billiard
Subject: N/A

While working on getting through the system to try and get to you two, I tapped into some of the security cabling to try and get a view of what we’re dealing with and maybe find a better way to get to you.

I almost wish I hadn’t thought of it.

Fiz, you were right. Don’t tell Annie about this, but I saw some ponies like you’d described in the tunnels. Flesh burnt beyond belief. Practical running corpses. Discord having a playdate is the only way this makes any kind of sense to me.

Fiz, they’re starving in the tunnels. I saw. On the camera. A group of the burnt ponies chased down a group that didn’t look so bad. They fought for a bit, and one of the pony’s that still had their hair got knocked to the ground. The rest of his group ran away.

While the burnt ponies ate the buck while he was still alive.

Have Molly use her managerial access to open the weapons locker there. Something tells me we’re going to need them before long.

Gearing starts shivering as he thinks it through. All of them down in the tunnels. They were doomed and trapped. Doomed to die in terror without supplies and hunted by those that had succumbed and became ghouls.

He quickly starts the audio file that’s next in sequence to try and get passed this, and hopefully find some kind of silver lining to all of this horror.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-194
“This is Billiard of Ministry of Wartime Technology maintenance. Manehatten branch. Bravo team… We are on location in adjunct ‘A’ dash five of sector twenty three… Can anypony read me? We have survivors. Civilians. Children. We’re safe for now but I don’t know how long we can hold out at this location. We need information and supplies. Is there anywhere we can go? Please advise.”

Not any better, but at least not any worse, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head mutters.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-195
“This is Billiard of Ministry of Wartime Technology maintenance. Manehatten branch. Bravo team… We are on location in adjunct ‘A’ dash five of sector twenty three… Can anypony read me? I’ve linked up with the rest of Bravo team and we are fortifying our position. We have survivors with us. Children. Four children. We’re currently safe but I don’t know how long our supplies will last. We need help. Is there anywhere we can go? Please advise.”

Sorry… the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head murmurs as it curls up.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-196
“This is Billiard of Ministry of Wartime Technology maintenance. Manehatten branch. Bravo team… what’s left of it… We are on location in adjunct ‘A’ dash five of sector twenty three… if you even care… Can anypony read me? We’ve had a K.I.A.. Molly and Fizzy Road were working on some systems to try and flush the radiation out of the tunnels for travel, and some psychopath attacked them. The resulting fight caused a conduit explosion that killed Molly and severely injured Fizzy, but he should pull through. We still have survivors. Children. Foals. Safety is questionable at best and our supplies are draining quickly. Is anypony out there? I know you’re getting these messages dammit, I can see it successfully received so whyaren’tyoureplying!?”

“They couldn’t get out…” Gearing says softly.

I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. The little pegasus in Gearing’s head chokes out as it curls up tighter.

MWT-MHTN-B-OVRST-197
“This is Billiard… maintenance pony of the most ungrateful nation on this fucking planet…”

Gearing winces as there’s a sound of a metallic clank and sound of the item being dragged across a wooden table. In Gearing’s mind’s eye he can see Billiard staring out straight at him as he talks into the microphone.

“Did you know? Is that why you haven’t bothered replying?”

I couldn’t, Gearing weakly mentally replies.

“Where the hell is everypony?! I know we aren’t the only ones. We can’t be.”

There’s a pause as Billiard smacks his lips and groans as it sounds like he’s scratching his face near the microphone before he slaps down a hoof with a loud clop and continues, causing Gearing to flinch.

“But, don’t worry. There’s less of us now…”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he whispers, “Oh no…”

“The last thirty six hours have been something that’s hard to explain.” The grim morbid chuckle that follows comes across clearly before he practically spits through the microphone at Gearing. “Not that you care. But I need someone to talk to. And Fiz’s already been shouldering enough. He’s sick too, by the way. And probably going to die soon as well.”

Gearing closes his eyes and hangs his head as he listens closely.

“It all started the other day. While me and Fiz were trying to cut a way into a storage locker we’d found. My oldest, Daphne Winter, wasn’t feeling too well, and her and my youngest went to lay down. Of course, I was worried of them getting sick, but there’s not much we can do besides keep them warm and as fed as we can manage with our rationing. But, not long after that, is when my world started crumbling. My youngest, little Daisy, walked by the equipment storage shelves to look for something, I don’t know what, in the store room. Maybe something to play with? Well.”

The sounds of hooves clopping on the desk to a musical drum beat for emphasis comes across clearly before Billiard continues.

“When she passed the shelves, every Geiger counter on the shelves screamed like you’d stepped on a cat’s tail.”

Gearing’s eyes jump open to their widest before Billiard even manages to start on the next sentence a heart beat after finishing the first.

“We hopped over and looked at her, and I found out she was still Wet.”

“Please, no,” Gearing begs the universe as being a clever pony means he’s beat the teller to the punch line yet again. But he hopes beyond hope he’s wrong and the jokes on him.

“See. My little girl loves water. Children do. To splish. And splash. And when there’s not a fucking thing else to do besides sit on a stone floor and stare at your hooves, guess what they want to do? They want to play. They want to live. So, when they found a hidey-hole behind a panel,-“

“No,” Gearing murmurs.

“-that had a small pool in it,-“

“Please, no,” Gearing repeats.

“-they went to town. Yup. That’s right. They’d played in it extensively while the rest of us were trying to keep the roof from caving in on us. Did I mention the water was highly contaminated? No?”

Gearing cringes and tightens down as he groans having already figured it out. But still hoped he was wrong.

Billiard lets out a sigh into the microphone before continuing on in a mocking tone.

“Well then you’re just a dumbass for not figuring that part out yet. Because it was. My children. My babies.”

“I’m so sorry…” Gearing mutters as he droops there in front of the terminal.

“They played in radioactive water. Then, because they’re such clever girls, they’d dried off before coming back so they wouldn’t get in trouble for being wet. The second youngest’s idea apparently. Dahlia. We gave them the rest of our radaway. Every. Last. Drop. I’m still not sure how much good it did overall to be honest. Daphne hadn’t gotten in the water, and was only sick by proximity of being with the others. She showed us where the hole they’d gotten into was. When Day Lily and Daisy started having bloody diarrhea, I knew it was only a matter of time.”

Gearing starts making random click and ticking noises as he shakes lightly and keeps his eyes down towards the ground. “I-“ *click* “-I’m so sor-“ *tick* “-sorry.”

“And all I could do was watch as they died. My babies. Dying of radiation poisoning. Right there. While begging me and their momma to make the pain go away.”

There’s a pause as Billiard is having trouble fighting with his emotions and swallows repeatedly as he tries his best to keep from just breaking down.

“Well, about the time my children were taking their last breath,” he manages with a choke before letting out a hard sob.

“-my wife let me in on another surprise she’d been holding out on me.”

There is a few second pause before Billiard delivers the punch line with a choking half laugh.

“She went into labor! Premature labor. The horror of watching two of her foals die was too much for her to handle, and she went into labor. I didn’t even know she was pregnant again. She’d been wanting to keep it a secret and surprise me at Hearth Warming. But then the world went to hell and you bastards stopped caring about anypony but yourself.”

*Click* “I’m” *tick* “Sorry,” Gearing moans. “I wanted to h-” *tick* “-help.” *click* “I real-” *click* “-ly did…” *tick*.

“It seems the world isn’t without its sense of irony.”

Billiard pauses for a moment as if he’s either just come to a realization or is appreciating it himself before he goes on to quickly explain.

“I’d been wanting a boy ever since me and my Annie got married. But all I got was girls. It was a running joke how I was doomed to be the father of a brood of mares. But, I finally got my boy. Little Dutch Iris. A beautiful little colt for me to call my own. I finally got to hold my son. Just like I’d always wanted to. Except. The joke never ended. Though it stopped being funny. Because Dutch was still born.”

Gearing tightens up and starts clicking and ticking faster and more sporadically.

“Combination of radiation, stress, and being born half a year too early apparently does that to a foal. And, because the hits just keep coming, that wasn’t even the end of my day. Because while I was still mourning the loss of three of my children, and doing a piss poor job of consoling my Annie for the same thing, my wife’s body decided to give out on her as well. Internally hemorrhaged from the premature labor. The son I’d always wanted, killed her. All I’d wanted was a boy, but all I got was girls. And now all I want is my children alive and healthy! Damn you! Damn you all!”

Gearing lowers himself and clicks repeatedly as he tries to say something, but can’t seem to speak anymore as the ticking and clicking magnify.

“My children are dying all around me and you’re where? In a bunker somewhere with robotic butlers and can’t pull together enough of a shit to even tell me to fuck off? Where is the military?! How did they all let this happen? How could things have gone so bad? Where the hell were you and why weren’t you doing your job while I was working double shifts doing mine?!”

Gearing keeps trying to lift his head, and say something in his own defense, having long since started taking this message as personally directed towards him. But, he can’t. Just like he was powerless to help this long dead family, and all of the others they represent, he’s powerless to even say a single word in his own defense. His head simply jerks up, then sags back down, repeatedly in cycles.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head looks around as he sits there and droops. I tried, he mutters weakly before turning around and climbing into the steam chest where Gearing normally banishes him for silliness. I really did… He murmurs before closing the lid on himself.

“If there is even an ounce of equinity left in you… please… please save my children… put a bullet in my head if you want, but please save them. They’re so little. So young. They don’t deserve this. To die this way…”

There’s a long silence as Billiard sniffles and seems to try to think of what else he can say to beg for help, having already promised his very life in exchange. And, almost like knowing with certainty that their plea would never get granted, he finishes with one last snide swipe at the void.

“If not… to hell with you, you worthless bastards.”

Gearing sits there clicking and ticking as he shakes all over. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

Sable steps up next to him and runs a loving nuzzle up his side, along his neck, and gently rubs against him cheek to cheek.

Again he hadn’t seen her come back, nor heard her when she approached him. He shakes his head a bit. Trying to tell her to go away. But he’s still having too much trouble talking.

She looks him over as she nuzzles him, and starts turning and directing him towards her, as she slowly starts pushing him back and trying to turn him over.

“N-“ *Click* “-no, Sable.” Gearing chokes out with a grumble.

She still leans into him, and manipulates his forelegs off the ground as she continues to push him backwards towards a sitting position.

“N-“ *Tick* “No! Sable! No-” *click* ”-t now!” Gearing objects.

Still she continues climbing over him and starts extending out her restraining cables around him.

“No-“ *tick* “-t in the m-” *click* “-ood right now, S-” *tick* ”-able!” Gearing grumbles as he struggles with her and tries to keep her off and away from him but he’s having a bit too much trouble fighting with himself to launch any kind of effective defense against her as well. At the moment, if she simply pulled out a gun and shot him, he’d be more accepting of that than any kind of sexual advances.

During their struggles, with Sable remaining silent the entire time, the controls on his PipBuck get bumped repeatedly as Gearing flails around. Causing one screen after another to switch back and forth and the selection indicator to bounce around rapidly.

While Gearing is still trying to fend off Sable’s restraining cables, an audio file from the archive activates on his PipBuck and begins playing.

“This is relay station Whiskey Three broadcasting on all open channels! All Pegasi are ordered to return to cloud level. Now! This is a priority one override. Equestria is gone. Canterlot’s gone. The princesses are dead! Repeat. Equestria is finished, all Pegasi get back to cloud level so we can save what we can. Let the mud stompers have their dirt; come home while you still can. They already took out Cloudsdale, and that’s where Rainbow Dash was, so she’s dead too.”

The last sentence of the alert hits Gearing as surely as if he’d been applebucked with a suit of power armor straight to the head. He stiffens up and his eyes go wide as he stumbles around a bit. His eyes continue losing focus and, a moment later, his back legs collapse out from under him as it sets in. His focusless gaze slowly trails upwards as he looks up at the prefabricated Stable-Tec roof of Stable 68.

“I failed them,” he finally manages in a whisper.

He completely loses strength and falls down, abandoning the struggle completely and embracing despair and misery. And Sable quickly takes advantage.

But, even though Gearing isn’t entirely cognizant of it, Sable’s goal had nothing to do with flank chasing. She’d been keeping watch over him and could tell, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Gearing was suffering. His change in attitude when he’d walked in was an oddity, and she refused to let that just sit and stew. But, she wasn’t expecting this. As she’d been keeping regular tabs on him and noticed the marked decent, she knew she couldn’t simply let him be anymore. Not alone.

After all, she’d just promised him he wouldn’t be alone anymore. She’s not going to go back on that promise now, regardless of what he says. Not when he so obviously needs her. When he needs to not be alone. When he needs somepony looking after him for a change.

And finding him forgetting about work, with his tools dropped and abandoned, was almost enough for her to declare a medical emergency.

But now, instead, she uses her cables and wraps him up and pulls him into herself. Holding him and trying to provide as much comfort as possible as he steadily falls apart.

As she’s helping him nuzzle into her mane he begins choking and ticking again. “I failed them…” *Click* “I-“ *tick* “-I failed them all.” *Click, tick, tick* “They’re dead because of me!” He screeches through metal grinding against itself. “Crème… Applemint…” *tick* “D-“ *click* “-Dash!” *tick, click* “Oh gods, Dash.” *Click, clickity*” I’m so sorry, Dash.”

He curls up and clamps down on Sable as he practically devolves into a foal. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” *Tick, click, tickity* “I’m so, so sorry…”

Footnote: Loading of ‘Blue Mac credential’ complete. . . awaiting matrix stabilization.

‘credential matrix’ buffering. . .

Stabilizing ‘move assist matrix’, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter was a little rough to get though. On top of a very individualized account of things degrading, it strikes some very specific chords with Gearing. Simultaneously it peppers in some more mysteries to be solved, and spurs the growth of a major chip on Gearing's shoulders. This chapter could be accurately described as a pinpoint where one of the significant shifts in Gearing's focus takes place. With the impacts being felt as early as the next chapter.

Thanks again for the ongoing support and help with the project. The feedback from both beta readers and everyone else has been fantastic. Thank you!

As always, Comments, questions, and critiques welcomed and encouraged

-Quillsy

28 Stone Cold Inspiration

Once Gearing was able to pull himself back together he got back to work on repurposing the equipment that he’d previously been using as a distraction. This time he focuses on it with purpose. With an almost desperate level of desire. He works as quickly as he possibly can to get the components ready. And, as usual, he uses the time to figure out a plan of action.

He feels like an absolute failure of, literal, historical proportions.

He feels the weight of the world on his back. The shame of not being there when he was needed the most. The unending belief that, had he not made such a monumental mistake, the end could have been avoided. That they wouldn’t have needlessly died. That he could have saved them. Saved them all.

And, above all, he needs to prove that she wasn’t wrong about him all along. That her taking the time on a stupid little clockwork pegasus buck was a good investment. That in the end of all things, she was right.

His own sanity demands that he vindicates Rainbow Dash’s decisions. He feels he owes her that much.

But he can’t do that from the inside of a stable. He’s not exactly sure how best to do what and where. However, he realizes he needs to get this system up and running so he can go. So he can leave. And find someway to make a difference again. There are lots of ponies that need help. Lots of things that need fixing in the wastes of Equestria. But he’s not really sure where to start.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head holds up a map and randomly points out different locations as it constantly offers up suggestions of where to begin.

Sable, for her part, has been as tentative as ever. Staying with him and helping him as he tears through the project with gusto, in silence. Her mere presence had, as planned, helped him recover enough to be functional. Her continued companionship has helped drive him. A constant reminder of the here and now and that, yes, there are still ponies counting on him. Ponies that still need him.

And need him to do better.

Shortly after sunrise, Gearing and Sable begin installing the equipment outside of the stable. He’d done a quick scouting trip around before leading her up, as usual, but in this particular case he really does need her help. He needs someone he trusts to watch his back, and keep an eye on the surrounding area, while he works. It’s hard to focus when you constantly have to look over your shoulder to see if the noise you’re making has drawn any attention. It’s why he waited until daylight, so the sound wouldn’t carry as far. So her presence helps him work faster.

The fact she absolutely refused to let him be alone for now is beside the point.

While Gearing is setting up his array of devices outside of the stable, he stumbles across a large boulder with a variety of graffiti all over it. Blasphemous and immature phrases intermingle with declarations of presence and love. Underneath a particularly colorful comment about somepony’s anal cavity made with etchings and paint, Gearing notices something different. He follows a particular set of etches with his wingtip as he mentally draws it out in his mind. It’s an icon of some kind. A glyph perhaps. Not magical. But Gearing figures, in all likelihood, it is some kind of marker or message.

Upon examining the boulder closer, he finds that one of the lumps of rock jutting out from it, near the back underside close to the hillside, is actually removable. He works on it for a bit but, eventually, figures out the trick to it and carefully pulls out the piece of rock. He examines it closely, and looks inside, wary of some kind of trap.

But, no, this is no trap. It’s a stash of some kind. How long it’s been here, he can’t tell. The fitting is so tight, and placement so well, that no water has gotten into the vacancy. He’s not sure if this is some example of earth pony ingenuity or cheaty unicorn magic. Either way, it’s a moderately impressive feat.

“The fuggliest place in Equestria…” Gearing murmurs as he’s holding the heavily worked stone.

“What was that, my love?” Sable asks as she tilts her head.

Gearing shakes his head as he solidifies the thought in his own head. Something about the stone and how it was made had given him an excellent idea for where he could start his search. For both more information and better equipment.

The little blue pony in his head is put out that he hadn’t accepted any of his perfectly good ideas, but agrees it’s also worth a shot.

“Hoofington,” Gearing replies. “It’s what someone I know used to call Hoofington.” He lets out a sigh and directs his eyes to the ground as he says softly, “Someone I knew, I mean…” He chuckles and looks over at Sable. “She had a point. It wasn’t exactly built for aesthetics… Understandable considering the constant attacks in the area. Place was built as a big ‘Fuck you!’ to the Caesar.” They exchange eye contact for a few more moments as she waits and lets him continue if he wishes. But he doesn’t.

Instead he checks the inside, and pulls out the old canvas bundle that encompasses the true contents. Taking a quick inventory of the items, he still can’t figure out how long this stuff has been here. Anywhere up to and including before the war. The only thing he can rule out is it’s not very recently, as the dirt on the rock hasn’t even been disturbed. So weeks or months at minimum. A pouch containing a collection of random ammunition for various weapons is paired up with a spherical secondary cloth and a pair of ancient Fancy Buck cakes still in their wrapping. He checks the cloth, that turns out to be a kerchief, and finds an easily recognizable faintly glowing ball.

A memory orb. A full one at that.

While he knows full well the potential dangers of information getting into the wrong hooves, and the lengths that had been deployed to prevent that, he’s pretty sure this doesn’t fall into any of those categories. This stash was meant to be hidden. But, with the smattering of ammo, and not much of any one type at that, along with the snack cakes, he thinks this treasure trove is little more than the excess somepony had decided to leave behind in case they were back through the area again. In most cases, memory orbs weren’t much more than novelty items outside of their intended purposes. Might be nothing more than a night light at this point.

But, then again, more information is always better. And he knows a unicorn that might just be bored enough to give it a go.

Gearing uses the empty space in the hole for one of his repeaters, and seals it back up. True, the rock is going to seriously limit it’s range, but that’s fine. It’s still well within the range of where it needs to be. Just for an added layer, he knocks down a few of the loose rocks against the side of the boulder, helping to hide the area where the hole access is from prying eyes.

Once finished they head into the stable and stay in the entry way as he tests the system. He nods a few times and motions to continue inside as he says, “The receiving relays are working, though I won’t know for sure the distance they can listen from without testing.”

“Full testing of the system would be prudent, my love. What would you recommend?” Sable asks as she walks along with him.

Gearing purses his lips to the side for a bit as he thinks. “Well, I still need to take Breaker Bar’s cart back to him, could do a test with that along the way.” He slowly nods as a plan starts solidifying before his eyes. “The sooner the better at that. I’ll go talk with Swift and Handy about it after I take this to Pharynx. See if it’s something he might be interested in.”

“That is kind of you to consider Subject Pharynx’s feelings, Gearing. He’s currently in the Atrium level, shall I show you?” Sable comments as she points with a restraining cable at a side passage ahead.

Gearing nods as he looks down at his PipBuck and starts typing out messages to Swift and Handy. “That’d be amazing. Thank you, Sable.”

She happily bounces around as she trots at his side before leaning over and nuzzling the side of his neck. “I am always happy to help my darling Gearing.” She leads the way down to the Atrium and passed the cafeteria area where Gearing had talked with Gauge the night before.

As they approach a doorway on the other side of the cafeteria area, Gearing takes note of the design and layout of the room beyond.

Had the universe played things out differently, this room would have been used to educate the future generations of foals for Stable 68. The classroom was meant to be the center of all growth and longevity for the stable. But, things didn’t play out that way. The stable died. Though, in a weird twist of events not at all in the original plans for stable continuity, 68 did manage to produce a single foal. But Silver Thorn won’t be using these facilities for some time.

Gearing can’t help but notice the tidy nature of the room. It’s been cleaned. And recently. He wonders if this is more signs of Apple Armor’s group trying to earn their keep. They’ve even managed to locate and bring back most of the student desks and have them collected near a table with a projector. But, as they are entering, there’s only a sole individual in the room.

A very large red unicorn stallion sitting in front of one of the functioning computer terminals along the side wall.

Gearing walks towards him, angling and circling to come up from the side and not from behind, as he looks him over. Pharynx stays focused on the screen, every now and then clicking next to start reading a new page. “Hey there, Pharynx, what are you up to down here all by yourself?”

Pharynx looks over at him, and then returns his eyes to the screen as he shrugs. “I’m looking for something.” He lets out a long annoyed sigh as he says, “I- I just don’t know what…”

Gearing leans over and looks at the screen, taking quick note of some kind of newspaper story of energy generating technology advances. “Anyway I could help?”

Pharynx leans away from him and looks at him before he chuckles and says with a smirk, “I’d have to tell you what I’m looking for in the first place… and I don’t even know that… so, sure… tell me what I’m looking for, and we’ll both know.”

Gearing chuckles and shrugs. “Sorry… one of those ‘know it when you see it’ situations?”

Pharynx nods. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is..” He rubs a hoof on the top of his head roughly as he groans. “This is just so frustrating.”

Gearing looks down for a moment then holds the laden kerchief up with a wing. “Well… maybe a fresh perspective could help you figure it out. You know anything about memory orbs?”

Pharynx takes the cloth and unwraps it as he nods. “Yeah. Of course. I’d used them all the time- … before…” He shakes his head and looks down at the orb with a raised eyebrow. “Wait… What?” He rubs both forehooves on his head roughly as he groans, “Dammit, this is so frustrating!”

Gearing reaches over with a wing and gently pats Pharynx on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Pharynx bats the orb around with his hoof a bit as he stares at it. “I guess. But in the meantime I’m all…” He sticks his tongue out and raspberries the air noisily.

Gearing gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before pointing at the orb with a wing. “If you decide to take a look, be careful. Some of those can be dangerous.”

“Yeah, I kno- Dammit!” He rubs his head and rolls his eyes.

Gearing looks him over and says softly, “Well… do it in medical, or in your room with the door locked. That way you’ll be safe at least.”

“Mmhmm” Pharynx mumbles as he stares at the orb.

“Let me know if it’s anything interesting, would ya? Ponies normally kept these for a reason.” He gives Pharynx a wide grin and waves a hoof. “Might be something good, never know.”

Pharynx nods and wraps the orb back up. “I’ll go take a look, now. I’m not making any headway as it is. Might as well try something new. Maybe it’ll jog something.” He looks up at Gearing and lets out a sigh as a wide smile crosses his muzzle. “Thanks, Gearing. I appreciate all you’ve all done for me. Really.” He picks up the bundle and shrugs. “I’m sure it would have been easier to just leave my sorry ass somewhere. But you didn’t. So, thanks.”

Gearing sits and stares at him. “You’re right. It would have been easier to just leave you on the side of the road. Or at that farmhouse and fly off… in every possible way… except one.” He raises a wingtip for emphasis and catches Pharynx’s eye on it before resuming eye contact.

“Oh?”

“To live with,” Gearing says softly. “No way in hell would I just abandon a foal on the side of the road like that.” He shrugs. “Not something I could live with. I’m not that kind of buck.”

Pharynx grins widely and bobs his head around. “Which is what makes you a damn sight better than many others.” He looks down at himself then says softly, “And… I’m not exactly a foal anymore either…”

Gearing grins at him. “I don’t know… you’re curious enough to still be one… and I’ve heard you, Apple Armor, and Plum Pie bickering about half burnt comics so don’t go thinking you’re all grown up just because you’ve gotten bigger.”

Pharynx snickers then gives a snort. “Well they started it!”

Gearing reaches over with a wing and pats Pharynx on the head. “See?” He ruffles Pharynx’s mane and says softly, “Take your time. Take it slow. You’ll get there in due time.”

Pharynx smirks and rolls his eyes, but ever so slightly leans into it before abruptly pulling away and walking out of the room with the bundle as he mumbles, “I have plenty of that in here…”

After Pharynx has left, Sable walks up next to Gearing and says softly, “I have been monitoring Subject Pharynx since his return. I anticipated your suspicion, based on your interaction with him in the entry hall when you left.” She shakes her head and looks at the door. “He has done nothing of concern. The only thing of note about Subject Pharynx is that he seems…” She looks at Gearing and tilts her head. “Lost?” She shakes her head. “It is hard to appropriately explain his behavior. But he spends most of his time reading and wandering around. As if he’s looking for something he’s misplaced.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks at her, and then directs his gaze towards the door as he says, “He woke up in a stable with no real idea how he got there. That part I can relate to. But adding in everything else he’s trying to sort out? I feel lost with what I have to deal with. But Pharynx?” He shakes his head before returning eye contact with Sable. “He’s on an entirely different level of disoriented than I am.” He gives a weak shrug of his shoulder. “At least I have a general map of where I’m going.”

Sable nods then look between him and the door. “Speaking of which. Subject Swift and Subject Handy are awaiting your arrival in the Medical bay.”

Gearing chuckles and starts towards the door. “Well I better get to it before Handy starts bitching about waiting on me.”

Sable follows along and says flatly, “I am sorry, Gearing, but I believe the term ‘that ship has already sailed’ qualifies in this instance. As Subject Handy Hooves had already started complaining about you before reaching the medical bay… Oh… you find this news humorous?”

Gearing can only nod as he starts giggling, while the little blue pegasus in his head rolls around in a giggle fit as it says, Some ponies aren’t happy unless they’re bitching about something!

Gearing continues snickering and chuckling to himself the entire way to the medical bay as he tries to wave it off with a wing. He finally manages to compose himself as he’s stepping into the decontamination chamber. And by the time the sequence had finished, and he was allowed entry into the medical ward he’s managed to wipe the results of a joke at somepony else’s expense off his muzzle.

But the scowl across Handy’s muzzle cracks another smirk across Gearing’s the moment he sees it.

Gearing manages to turn the smirk into a friendly grin as he scans his eyes over those present and focuses his attention on Swift. “Hey guys, I finished our communication relay system. So we’re back up with outside communications.” He looks over to Handy and nods as he adds, “Minus the backdoors built into the hardware.” He waves with a hoof as he says, “A completely clean install.” He hops his hoof around as his grin increases. “The array has a series of decoys, with point to point relays, so if anyone tries to triangulate where our broadcasts are coming form, they’ll hit those first, and by protocol our systems will stop squawking so we can evaluate the threats.”

Handy stares at him with his mouth slowly falling open as he thinks it through. He looks up at the ceiling and scrunches his mouth before he shakes his head and looks at Gearing with his eyes open to their fullest. “That’s- I mean- What?! How’d you even manage that?!” He shakes his head hard and asks, “With scraps?!”

Gearing grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “I told you… best Stable-Tec technician.” He waves a wing at an angle as the grin gets wider. “Bar none.” He throws his wings up and bounces the light around himself as he gives Handy a profiled grin. “Have you met me yet?”

Handy rubs his face with a hoof before flicking it out at Gearing. “Where’d you learn that, at that though? That’s not common Stable-Tec communications protocol…”

Gearing smiles and turns his head a different direction, intentionally not looking at him as he gives a smug grin. “It’s proprietary…”

Swift looks at Handy and can’t help but snicker at how completely flustered he seems. She looks over at Gearing and tilts her head as she asks with a near accusational tone, “It has to do with all that crap you ripped out of that bunker and had us drag back here, doesn’t it?” Gearing looks over at her and rolls his eyes a bit but doesn’t really respond. She nods and snorts before she looks at Handy. “That’s why… it wasn’t Stable-Tec hardware…. It was Ministry of Wartime Technology communications equipment… Government grade.”

“Military grade… actually,” Gearing corrects as he holds up a wingtip for emphasis. He waves away the idea with the same wing before looking them over. “And now I need to make sure it’s going to handle the long distance packets. I have a broadcaster module for my PipBuck. So I can give it a test while I take the cart back to Megamac.”

Handy looks between Swift and Gearing and asks, “Why you taking the cart back?”

Swift nods towards Gearing and replies before Gearing does, “Because the cart belongs to the maintenance head. It’s only a loner. Gearing just borrowed it to get the supplies back here.”

Gearing nods and points towards Swift with a wing. “And I try my best to honor agreements I make.” He glances at Sable then adds, “And while I’m out, I was thinking of maybe swinging by a trade hub I heard about over near the Hoofington area.”

“’Swinging by’?” Handy starts

“Hoofington?” Swift finishes for him.

“That’s what I said,” Gearing partially closes his eyes as he looks at them and feels like he’s talking to foals.

Handy shakes his head and throws a hoof out at him as he looks at Swift. “He’s kidding. Right?” He looks at Gearing and tilts his head. “One doesn’t simply ‘Swing by’ the Hoof. You realize how far that is? Over hostile territory?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and waves the idea away. “I’ve been there before. I don’t intend on walking…” He flutters his wings, scattering the light and kicking up a light breeze as he says, “These things work ya know.”

“Gearing,” Swift starts with a sigh. She shakes her head as she looks at the ground and brings her gaze up to meet his as she says softly, “The world isn’t like you remember it. From what I’ve heard, it’s one of, if not the, most dangerous areas in Equestria now. Don’t take it lightly.”

Gearing grins at her. “Well now I really have to go, just to see what all the hubbub’s about.”

Swift and Handy slap a hoof over their eyes, but while Handy groans, Swift actually chuckles. Swift lowers her hoof and waves it around before setting it down. “You know.” She looks over at Handy. “There’s that tournament I’ve been invited to. We could see how that goes.” She shrugs. “And after that we could go to this place Gearing’s talking about and maybe get some more supplies to finish fixing up the stable.”

Handy looks over at Gearing and asks with a frown, “You think they’ll have what we need?”

Gearing shrugs. “Won’t know for sure until we get there. But from what I’d gathered they’re pretty well connected. A whole trading hub network. If they don’t’ have it, they can probably get it, or point us in the right direction.”

Gauge peeks over a medical bed and looks at Gearing wide eyed. “Really? Are you serious, mmkay? They trade in all kinds of goods, or just equipment salvage?”

Gearing notices Gauge seems to have been sitting over there sifting through a couple boxes of toys and frowns. Then his lip curls in a smile as he regards Gauge.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head hops up and down and snaps out a telescopic pointer rod at a drawing board showing a very simple math equation:

Traitor + Dangerous Area = Guilt Free Problem Solving

Gearing nods a bit as the smile broadens and he waves a hoof with a shoulder shrug. “Suuure, from what I gather they’d have a bit of everything… food… ammo… armor… building materials…” He locks eyes with Gauge and partially closes his eyes as he smiles. “I bet they even have whole collections of toys we could browse through for the kids.” Gauge’s ears pop up high and alert as his eyes go wide.

Swift nickers and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure the kids would just love you for that, but what they need is for this place to keep working… so don’t lose sight of the real goal if we get there and we do find someone with every toy known to ponykind.” Gauge’s stare jumps to her and he practically drools at the prospect.

Handy lets out a sigh as he looks around. He bites his lip a bit then bobs his head as he stomps a forehoof. “Okay, we’ll do this.”

“’We’?” Gearing asks as he looks over at Handy. “What are you talking about?”

Handy looks at him and scowls. “Swift wants to try this tournament out. And then if this place is all you say it is, there’s going to be a lot that we really need.” He shakes his head. “I’m not letting her go off on her own. We work better together. And, if we’re all together we can watch each other’s backs better.” He looks over at Swift and nods. “It’ll be much safer that way, and we’ll be able to carry more between us. So nopony’s weighed down too much to run if we need to.”

Gearing raises a hoof and frowns. “Equs to Handy… come in Handy.” He tilts his head. “Hey, earth pony, pegasi don’t need to run… we fly. If we actually have to worry about terrain, that’s going to take longer. You’ll just slow us down.”

Gauge hops up and frowns. “But I wanna go! Mmkay?!”

Gearing stares at him and his mouth hangs open as he tries to think of something.

The little blue pegasus in his head cringes but points at the equation on the drawing board again as it gives a slight shrug.

Gearing hangs his head. “Fiiiine. So us four then?”

“Five,” Sable says flatly. “I am not leaving my darling Gearing’s side. If he wishes to go to this trading hub, than I shall accompany him.”

Gearing’s head whips over to her and his eyes go wide. “S- Sable… that’s… I mean-“

“Six!” Nahlah says cheerfully as she hops over from the bed after passing Silver Thorn over to Cure. “Swift was telling me about this town you went to. Megamac? If it’s that big it’s gotta have a place or two I’d wanna poke my nose in. I’ve been stuck inside for too long. I wanna get out and get some fresh air and reeaaallly streeeeeetch my luuuuuungs.” She stands on her hind legs and stretches her self up with her forepaws outstretched as she groans with pleasure at the thought.

Gearing’s eyes narrow as he looks around. He walks over to the door to the medical bay, and opens the decontamination chamber. He stands there looking in, in silence, for a moment, before turning around to stand by Sable again.

Swift raises an eyebrow and waves a hoof at him. “What was that about?”

Gearing sits down and lets out a sigh. “I was seeing if anyone else was going to interrupt and invite themselves along… this is ridiculous, I was just going to go on my own and now there’s like six of us going.”

Nahlah snickers. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not exactly helpless, you know? We were traveling around before we became ‘soft stable ponies.’” She snickers and looks over at Swift who gives her a knowing grin before a hard affirmative nod.

Gearing looks between the two and asks, “And what about the foal? Don’t you have to be here to nurse her?”

Nahlah waves it away with a paw. “I’ve been over producing for a while. With the extra cold storage now, we’ve been stocking a bit each day.” She shrugs. “Just in case something happened to me, would have a while to sort out something else… But it’ll last months in the freezer. We won’t be gone long really though, right?”

Gearing shrugs then nods. “A couple days. Maybe a week round trip. I’m not planning on making a vacation of this.”

Nahlah nods and waves it away repeatedly with a paw. “Oh, yeah, we’ll be more than fine then. We’ve got weeks worth saved up.”

Gearing’s jaw drops and his eyes go wide. “Already!? It hasn’t been that long since I got it up and running!”

Nahlah nods and gives a sheepish grin. “Over producing… Waaay over producing… Right, Cure?”

“Nahlah is correct in her estimations,” Cure chimes in. “With current frozen milk reserves there is an adequate amble supply for Silver Thorn to have continued nutritional compliance for another sixteen days. That figure includes a percentage of increased consumption for projected growth as well.”

Gearing looks from Cure over to Nahlah and can’t help but snicker as Nahlah waves a paw towards Cure. “Very… productive.” She looks around between Gearing and Swift as she asks, “When are we going?”

Gearing turns around and starts towards the decontamination chamber. “As soon as I get the cart loaded up. I’d rather not be traveling with a ground bound wagon, during the night, and over rough terrain, that’s just asking for an ambush.”

Handy waves a hoof and says as he looks at Nahlah, “We’ll go in half an hour. I want to make sure that we get to Megamac with plenty of daylight left to do whatever we’re going to need to do, and find a place for the night.”

Nahlah hops up onto her hind haunches and paw pumps both forepaws in the air as she lets out a ‘whoop’. “Great!” She looks over at Cure and points at herself. “Hey, Cure, drain the pony kegs while they’re getting ready. And no more shots until I get back!” She gives the multilimbed robot a scowl and rubs a paw on her rump.

“Affirmative, Subject Nahlah. Please accompany me to the station and we shall add to the stockpiles,” Cure replies as she spins around in mid air and hovers off towards the back far side of the medical bay.

Gearing leaves the others to their own devices for getting their respective preparations ready as he quickly heads towards R&D. As they are entering R&D through the lab’s decontamination chamber, Sable asks, “What will we be taking? I shall begin loading up the wagon.”

Gearing shakes his head and waves it off with a wing as he trots over to the Stable’s growing armory. “A few jugs of chemicals. But, first things first. Let’s get our equipment on.”

Sable pauses walking enroute to the chemical supply closest as she looks at him. She turns towards him and watches him start pulling out equipment as she asks, “‘Our’ equipment?”

Gearing starts putting a variety of armor and weapons on the workbench, and sets a large primarily metal saddle on top of the crate he pulls it out of. “I don’t leave without making sure I’m properly equipped...” He looks over at her and smirks. “And I’m damn sure not going to let you go out without doing the same.”

She walks over and starts looking over the variety of custom made equipment. She’s seen him working on the pieces over a course of time. Some of them he had to custom make and fit towards her own body. So, individually they make sense. Though how it all comes together she’s unsure. She walks over and turns sideways as she comes to a relaxed posture and looks straight again as she says, “I will defer to you for the best course of action, as you have more experience on the surface than I. And, if my darling Gearing will allow me to accompany him, than this is an acceptable compromise.”

Gearing begins putting the special set of combat armor he made for her on her chassis as he mutters, “You didn’t give me much choice in the matter...” She remains silent, and provides no retort.

However, the smile on her muzzle gets a tiny bit bigger.

After getting the extra layer of armor on, Gearing grabs the large saddle and sets it across her back, causing her to turn her head to look at it. As she watches, he attaches a large rifle to one side, and a shotgun with a drum magazine attached to its belly. He looks them over and frowns before he turns his head and locks eyes with Sable. “It doesn’t have the turret based system I had planned with it. But it’s better than nothing.” He points with his wings. “Until I can work out a belt fed system, you’re going to have to change the drums on the shotgun yourself. You can do that with your restraining cables, right?” She extends out a pair of cables on both sides, opening the flaps simultaneously and pulling out a pair of loaded magazine drums before nodding and putting them back.

Gearing smiles and nods. “Great. I’ve marked the side of the drums for their ammo type. ‘O’ for scattershot. ‘One’ for slugs.”

“’O’ and ‘One’? What is the significance?” Sable asks as she tilts her head.

Gearing grins. “One and Zero… two choices.”

Sable smiles and nods. “Ah. Yes. Of course! Thank you for using something easily identifiable.”

Gearing shrugs. “Well, more specialized ammo is typically color coded. But we don’t have any of that anyway.” He shrugs. “We’ll just make adjustments as we go.”

“Affirmative, my darling Gearing… Are you finished dressing me now?”

Gearing snickers and looks around. “Uh… yeah… that’s it for your gear.”

She turns towards him and grins. “My turn then!” She leans in and gives his side a kiss before bringing over the pieces of his armor suit with her cables and beginning her little good luck ritual. After getting read they head straight for the entrance.

As they are nearing the stable’s entrance, Gearing taps Sable with a wing and motions with his head further on ahead a moment after clearing the turn into the final passage. He pauses near a stack of crates and steps back into the shadows on the other side of them before going motionless. A few moments later the little violet filly walks by, at a very slow pace, as she stays low to the floor and sneaks by, but with her rear end high in the air and excitedly swishing her tail. A few steps behind her Apple Armor follows the same pattern of sneaking down the hallway following Sable.

After they’d passed, Gearing steps out a bit, peeking the direction they’d come from, before quickly following in line behind them, exaggeratedly sneaking along with them. They reach a desk near the entry hall and crawl under it as they look at the group gathering beyond.

With Gearing coming to a stop a few steps behind them.

“Plum Pie, how could you have lost’em?” Apple Armor asks with a huff.

The little violet filly shakes her head hard and her shoulders sag. “I don’t knooooow. He’s so sneaky! It’s not fair!” She points at the group beyond with a hoof and says softly, “Sable’s there, he can’t be far...”

“Psst… hey… whatcha guys lookn’ at?” Gearing asks softly as he leans just a bit closer.

Plum Pie points over to where Sable is offloading the plastic jugs she’d brought with her. “I heard Stinky talking. They’re gonna go get some toys… we’re gonna ultra-sneaky, sneaky follow behind them and see what kind they’re getting.”

Apple Armor lets out a sigh. “They’re always going out and having adventures while we’re stuck inside, I’m gonna follow along this time. That way, when they really need help, I’ll be there, and they’ll see they should take me with them more often!” He taps on his chest with a hoof and looks up with his eyes closed as he pictures charging in to save the day.

“Can I come too? Huh? Huh? Can I? Can I?” Gearing asks softly with a grin.

Apple Armor nods but blindly waves a hoof behind himself at the voice’s general location. “Sure. Sure. Just keep it down. Don’t want Gearing to catch us, he’ll never let us go.”

Plum Pie nods and gets an overly serious look on her face. “I don’t see him though… is he in-vizi-boo?”

“I don’t see’em either,” Gearing says softly.

Apple Armor nods. “Well, keep looking. He’s gotta be here somewhere, the sneaky wanker.”

Gearing reaches out with both wings, and starts ruffling the mane on the top of their heads with a wingtip each.

Both Plum Pie and Apple Armor tense up and their eyes go wide. They glance at each other sideways and Plum Pie says softly, “I know that feeling...”

They both turn their heads to look behind themselves, and see Gearing staring back at them, still rustling their manes with a wing, and waving with a hoof, as he grins widely.

Apple Armor springs up in the air, with his mane and tail standing on end, hard enough to clang his head on the desk, and cause himself to spin through the air and land in a metal storage box nearby. “Whatdaforfuckawaka wank-Ow!”

Plum Pie, during this, just locks eyes with Gearing for a few moments. Then, after either overcoming the shock, or coming to a decision, she falls over sideways and sticks her legs up in the air as she flops her tongue out to the side and closes her eyes. “Blaaarrgg… I’z dead… dead fillies don’t get in trouble… blaaarrgg,” she mumbles out before letting her tongue hang out to the side of her mouth.

Gearing snickers and tickles her nose with his wingtip. “Oh noes… Well… Can’t have that. But, I don’t think she’s all dead yet… Maybe I should give her some shots to find out?” He tickles her nose some more as he chuckles, “Not-quite-dead foals get bunches of shots in the rump to make them better.”

Plum Pies eyes zip open and she pull in her tongue as she rolls over and covers her rump with her forehooves. “Nooo! No shots! I’m okay! See! I’m fine!” She stares at him for a bit then gives him a sheepish smile as she says softly, “I think?” She covers her head with her forehooves as she moans, “Please don’t kill me, I’ll be good...”

He sighs and reaches out with his wings, wrapping her up, and pulling her into a hug. “I wouldn’t do that to you...” He ruffles her mane as he asks softly, “You know why you can’t go with us though, right?”

She lets out a sigh and says with a half pout, “Because I’m too widdle.”

Gearing shrugs and says, “I just wanna make sure you can handle yourself while outside. It’s not just about size.” He looks over at the metal crate that Apple Armor had landed in and asks, “You alive in there?”

Apple Armor pops out of the crate, with one forehoof on the edge and the other rubbing the top of his head. “You almost broke my head, you sneaky wanker!”

Gearing grins wide enough that his eyes close as he looks at him. Then continues smiling as he asks, “How about this… you hold down the fort and keep the stable safe while we’re out...” He waves a hoof at Apple Armor. “And when I get back, I take you out for a bit of target practice with a rifle?”

Apple Armor’s ears perk up. “For reals, reals? You’ll show me how to shoot?” Gearing nods and grins at him. Apple Armor half closes an eye. “This isn’t just a trick to get us to behave is it? Swift and them won’t let us near the weapons.”

Gearing shrugs and gives him a wink. “Well I’m not Handy and Swift, now am I?” Apple Armor and Plum Pie both shake their heads. Gearing leans over towards Apple Armor and says, “By your age I was already familiar with a variety of weaponry… Not teaching you how to defend yourself is irresponsible… and fucking stupid.”

Plum Pie raises a hoof while still being held by Gearing. “But Handy said not until we’re older...”

Gearing looks at her for a moment and raises an eyebrow before looking back and forth between them. “What did I just say?”

“You’re not Handy and that’s fucking stupid,” they both repeat in unison.

Gearing grins at them and ruffles Plum Pie’s mane again. “That’s my munchkins!”

Plum Pie sheepishly taps her forehooves together as she looks up at Gearing. “Will ya bring us back something?”

Gearing ruffles her mane again and sets her aside as he stands up and starts walking around the desk that was set up as a barricade. “I promise I’ll try… that’s as much as I can do.”

Plum Pie purses her lips to the side of her muzzle for a moment before giving a ghost of a nod. “Well… okay then...”

As Gearing is walking around Apple Armor keeps his eyes on him and scowls. “Better come back, ya shiny wanker… So you can show me how to use a rifle right...”

Gearing smirks at him, and reaches out with a wing and starts ruffling Apple Armor’s mane lightly. “You can count on it,” he comments as he looks at Apple Armor out of the corner of his eye.

Apple Armor’s eyes zip around, and he scowls hard, as Gearing ruffles his mane. But, at the same time, he leans into it ever so slightly before pulling away quickly and waving Gearing away with both forehooves. “Stop that annoying crap and get out of here already, ya shiny wanker.”

Gearing heads out through the already open Stable 68 front door and starts doing a quick headcount as he looks over those gathered already. He looks at Handy and asks, “This everyone that’s going? Everyone got everything they’re taking?”

Handy turns from talking to Swift and rolls his eyes as he waves his hoof at Gearing. “You’re the last one we were all waiting for. Can we go now?”

Gearing nods and starts using the terminal outside the door to begin sealing the stable up as he says, “Yeah, I’m good, just wanted to make sure so I could hurry up and close the stable back up.”

Nahlah looks back and forth as she tilts her head. “Why? What’s the hurry? Not like you’re trying to run away form Sable, she’s already out here.” She points over at Sable and smirks at Gearing.

Gearing shakes his head but watches the door close completely as he says, “The kids are getting antsy being stuck in there. Just caught two trying to sneak out.” He leans forward on the console and closes his eyes as he lets out a long sad sigh while a recent audio he heard plays through his head.

...And when there’s not a fucking thing else to do besides sit on a stone floor and stare at your hooves, guess what they want to do? They want to play...

He shakes his head and scolds himself. It’s not exactly the same thing. This is a fully functional stable, with way more room, and more ponies to interact with. Friends. Family. It was designed for long term habitation.

The little blue pegasus in his head points a cob pipe at him before puffing on it and grinning as it points out, Idle hooves are the tools of the enemy. We can easily keep them busy. He points the pipe behind himself at a caricatured diagram of procedures for dismantling and cleaning a rifle.

Swift hops over and looks wide-eyed between the closing door and Gearing. “Which ones?! Wasn’t two of mine was it?”

Gearing looks over at her and raises an eyebrow before he says in a long drawn out voice. “Nooooo.” He shakes his head. “Not that I’d recognize them if I ever saw them, considering you’ve never let yours out of your room. But I did know who was trying to sneak out. Apple Armor and Plum Pie. So it wasn’t any of yours.”

Swift looks back and forth as she asks, “You sure it was them?”

Gearing shakes his head and narrows his eyes at her as he says softly, “Yeah, I just said that… why?”

Swift’s eyes get big and she looks back and forth between the door and Gearing. “Well… it’s just…. Ummm” She looks over at Handy and tilts her head as she’s looking for some kind of help at the moment.

Handy looks up from his PipBuck and points at it before he shakes his head. “We can go, everything’s fine, Swift.”

Swift looks down at her PipBuck then nods and looks over at Handy. “Oh, okay, let’s go then.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head looks back and forth as it partially closes an eye and puffs on it’s pipe. But Gearing decides not bring up the obvious. Although, now that he’s looking at them, he can’t help but notice their various equipment.

On top of his maintenance barding, Handy has a set of custom-made metal plate armor. Patched together from a variety of sources, but done so with purpose and not simply being small pieces of scrap. In a few locations, there are sewn pockets that Gearing assumes has additional plates, most likely of the ceramic variety if they had any real skill in the design of it. On one side he has a knife of general purpose size, and the other has a pistol resting securely in it’s holster. On his back, but within reach, is an over-sized sledge hammer. Also custom made and Gearing takes note of the larger head on one side with what appears to be a modification that uses the pneumatics from a powerhoof to potentially add extra force with the strike.

Giving credit where credit’s due, Gearing can’t help but thinking that Handy almost looks like he knows what he’s doing.

But, aside from himself and Sable, the rest are far less equipped.

Swift has her powerhoof on her left hoof, and a saddle bag, but that’s practically it as far as what she’s carrying. She’s wearing a set of clothes that seem more like wraps, with certain sashes tied strategically to help keep it even tighter to her body, but he can’t really see any armor value in it at all.

Nahlah’s side bag is rather small for much of anything. There’s a couple small knives attached to the bag in secure sheaths, and a smaller pistol poking out from under the bag. But other than that, she’s traveling light, even foregoing any barding or clothes in favor of natural camouflage. Done intentionally, and primarily with the focus on stealth above all else.

Gauge though, is just an idiot with a bag. Again, he’s not even wearing a maintenance jumper, and is only carrying his saddle bags that, judging by the lack of sag, are practically empty of supplies. He didn’t even bother carrying the empty holster this time.

Whether that’s from intentionally doing it to avoid questions, or just another symptom of his idiocy, Gearing can’t tell.

Sable quickly straps into the harness for the wagon, and starts heading up the service ramp before Gearing can even say anything. He takes a running start and catches some air as he calls out to Handy and Swift, “I’ll check the outside while you get everything closed up. Meet you out front.”

Gearing quickly gets outside and does a quick spiral search pattern out from the station to make sure the coast is clear this time. He even stops by the area where the Gunner had used as a sniping position to shoot Pharynx a few days ago, just to make sure no one else is lying in wait.

That’s not a mistake he intends to ever make again. Distractions or no.

On the way back to the front of the station, as he sees them setting up on the road to leave, Gearing spots Gauge trot over to the back of the wagon and look into the back. As Gearing is landing next to the wagon Gauge yells, “Hey, there’s plenty of room back here, mmkay? I’m going to hop in too!”

Sable shrugs and waves a hoof at the wagon. “Your added mass shouldn’t cause any hindrances with my pulling it.”

“Great! Mmkay!” Gauge says with a grin as he starts hopping up into the back.

“Just don’t get any of those chemicals on you, Gauge… or it’ll likely eat your flesh off,” Gearing comments nonchalantly.

Gauge stops what he’s doing and looks around the wagon at him. “What’d you say?”

“Chemicals… careful with the chemicals… What do you think’s in those jugs? We don’t drink…” Gearing replies with a raised eyebrow.

Gauge leans back and looks down into the wagon. “You… you really have flesh eating chemicals in here? Mmmkay?”

Gearing grins at him. “Why not?”

Nahlah walks over next to Gearing and looks back and forth before waving a paw towards the back of the wagon. “But why?!”

Gearing shakes his head and looks at her as he narrows his eyes at her. “Because I’m going to need them where we’re going? Why else would i make a point of pulling them out and dragging them across Equestria?”

Nahlah scratches her chin for a moment then shrugs. “Yeah. Gotta point… but what you going to do with them?”

Gearing grins wide enough that his eyes close. “It’s a secret!”

Nahlah’s eyes go wide and she starts bouncing up and down repeatedly. “Oh! Oh! I love surprises!”

Gauge carefully pulls away from the back of the wagon and starts walking around the side as he says softly, “I- I think I’ll just walk… Mmkay?”

Sable nods. “As you wish, Subject Gauge.”

Gearing trots off and leads the way to Megamac as he snickers, and Gauge keeps a more-than-respectful distance away from the wagon. It earns him a few questioning looks from Swift and Handy, but they are more interested in watching where they’re going than whatever foolishness Gauge and Gearing are getting up to.

Even so much the better when they manage to get, and stay, upwind of Gauge.

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’ buffering. . .

Stabilizing ‘move assist matrix’, please stand by. . .

Stabilization of ‘move assist matrix’ complete, debugging in progress, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter focuses on the aftermath of the previous chapter and how a few other characters are dealing with their own problems simultaneously. But, the rest of the world awaits and so do many mysteries.

-Quillsy

29 Horse of a Different Color

On the way to Megamac, Gearing stays in the vanguard for the small group; taking the lead and picking a route that has the least obstacles for the wagon, and Sable specifically.

For the most part he plots a route that will take them straight to Megamac, but with a few turns and detours thrown in more for path obscuring purposes than anything. Along with avoiding a few places he doesn’t particularly like the look of even from a distance. In spite of the side tracking, they make good time as the pace being set for the group is a pair that don’t need rest.

Even if they aren’t currently the fastest members of the group.

Gearing watches as Nahlah zips around and practically runs circles around the traveling company as she hops over to various points of interest to explore. A capsized wagon full of empty Sparkle Cola bottles. A skywagon that had apparently fallen straight out of the sky and impacted hard enough that even now, two hundred plus years later, it’s imbedded enough into the ground to appear like a rusting obelisk. Some woody shrubbery that seems to defy identification of being dead or not. A brilliant white flower sticking out of the rubble with pink highlights and stripes.

That one even drew Gearing’s focus, after Nahlah had practically pounced on it.

His wonderment on how something like that could survive, is quickly squelched as Nahlah pulls it out of the ground, and reveals the ratty mostly rotten hat it was attached to. Nahlah frowns and holds it up with both paws as she seems to debate what to do with it.

Gearing curves his path to start walking by her and pauses to lean towards her. “Why don’t you keep it?”

Nahlah looks at him then at the hat and frowns. “It’s fallen apart… I bet it was pretty… once.”

Gearing looks it over and then back at her. “You still like the flower though, right?”

Nahlah uses a paw and delicately runs her digits over the petals. “Well… yeah.”

Gearing shrugs then starts walking away as he waves the thought away with a wing. “Then take the flower… you can always find something else to attach it to later.” He looks at her over his shoulder and grins. “I bet it’d appreciate having someone to enjoy it again.”

Nahlah’s ears perk up and then she looks at the hat again. She quickly removes the flower, by cutting away the ratty sun hat with one of her knives, before carefully stowing the artificial flower in her bag.

Gearing chuckles and trots back towards the lead. As he’s passing Sable at what appears to be a slow motioned gallop to catch up, he lets out a quick sharp cry of pain and surprise as his entire body jerks in mid air, while in mid stride. He stumbles and staggers passed Sable. It takes him quite the effort to keep from falling on his face and he goes a bit further than intended with the momentum. But a few repeated hectic flaps of his wings help right him, and keep him from kissing the pavement, before he comes to a stop.

Sable hops over, yanking the wagon after her, and gives his neck a concerned nuzzle. “Are you okay, my love?”

Gearing sits down and shakes his head a few times. Quickly. Very Quickly. Apparently quicker than intended as he grabs his own head with his hooves and goes still for a moment. “I... I think so?” He hunches over and wraps his wings around himself as he starts fiddling with his PipBuck behind his improvised privacy screen.

Handy and Swift move around the wagon and stop on either side of Sable as they look Gearing over. Handy points at Gearing and looks at Sable. “What happened?”

Sable shakes her head. “I do not know Subject Handy Hooves. He suddenly spasmed while walking and nearly fell.”

Swift walks closer to Gearing and looks him over as he’s practically hiding under a tent made of his crystalline wings. “You okay in there, Gearing?”

“Ah… that explains it… Well, shit, I wish it’d give me a warning before doing something like that…” Gearing murmurs while not really paying attention to anyone else.

Sable leans over and nuzzles his side again. “Gearing, my love? Do you require medical attention?” There’s a pause and she gets a scowl on her face as she practically demands, “Allow me to examine your PipBuck to check your current health status.”

Gearing hops up to his hooves quickly and waves it away with a wing as he says with a grin, “No need to worry, everything’s fine.”

Sable stares at him for a moment, then extends out a data cable as she stares him in the eyes. “PipBuck, Gearing.”

Gearing rolls his eyes, then sits back down and lifts his PipBuck for her to connect to. She quickly plugs into it and stands there motionless as she repeatedly checks the readings coming from it. The others watch for a few moments before Sable finally relents and detaches from the PipBuck. Gearing gives her a warm smile and shrugs. “See, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Swift looks at Sable and asks, “Well?”

Sable stares at Gearing and the scowl actually gets worse as she looks him over. “I do not like this. There is nothing in the PipBuck to explain what I had seen. Nothing to explain what had happened.”

Swift partially closes an eye as she looks at Gearing. “Gearing… did you tamper with the log function of the PipBuck while you were hiding behind your wings?”

Handy sits down and waves a hoof repeatedly dismissing the idea. “Swift, hun, that’s not possible… PipBucks weren’t made that way. He couldn’t do that. At least not here. And definitely not that quickly.”

Swift looks over at Handy with the same narrowed eye before rolling them and looking back at Gearing. “Well? Did you?”

Gearing looks at her and chuckles a moment before shaking his head. “No. I’m fine. Really. Better actually.”

Handy looks him over and turns as he asks softly, not entirely liking the answer, “’Better’ how?”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof and a wing as he looks them over. “It’s nothing to worry about. The system just managed to purge some of the side effects of that damn stasis weapon they used on me.”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he stares at him. “That was still affecting you?! How?!”

Gearing shrugs. “You tell me and we’ll both know. It’s left some residual gunk behind that is slowly being cleared out.” He hops up and starts walking around, quickly. Sable watches carefully as he seems to correct and over correct his walking patterns.

Swift tilts her head as she looks him over. “You going to be okay though?”

Gearing turns his head to look at her, but his focus moves past her ever so much before coming back to look at her, in a near micro double take. “Yeah, I’ll get better as time goes on.”

Sable extends a restraining cable and wraps it around his shoulders as she asks, “Gearing, my love, we care about you… You’re movements are… out of sync… with your intentions… Are you sure you’re okay? How may we help you?”

Gearing lets out a sigh then sits down, hard, sending a ringed cloud of powdered dirt out from his flank where he impacts the ground. He waves a hoof and says with annoyance, “I’m fine…” He looks them over and sees many pairs of disbelieving eyes staring back at him. “Okay, look… Whatever they did to me did something that slowed my movements… It gummed everything up… like I’d been dipped in molasses or something. It was a struggle to move and every part of me had to fight resistance.” He shrugs. “Now it’s gone. Without that, I’m able to move much faster, and I’m having to… readjust to being able to move fast again.”

Handy leans closer and looks him over, giving him a few strong sniffs as he asks, “Did the weapon leave some kind of chemical residue? Do we need to decontaminate areas of the stable you’d been in when we get back?”

Sable shakes her head. “That is not possible, Subject Handy Hooves.” Handy looks at her and she adds, “Gearing has been through many cycles of decontamination for both chemical, and biological, contaminates. Any physical residue would have been removed, or slowly removed over time. That would cause a gradual change. This change was rather abrupt.” She looks over at Gearing and tilts her head. “Which would leave potential magical contamination.”

Handy narrows his eyes as he looks at her. “Magical? Contamination? How does that even make sense?”

Sable looks between them. Then, in very organic fashion, shrugs. “The closest approximation to this scenario would be a matrix disruption of equipment. It has been known to happen. With the sources having lasting effects beyond the initial disruption. If that were the case, it would need to either wear off, or be removed.” She motions towards Gearing with a hoof. “In either case, the affected subject would pose no danger to any others as it doesn’t transfer.”

They all turn to look at Gearing and he rolls his eyes. “No. I’m not infectious. Not to machines. And damn sure not to organics. Can we go now, please?” He turns and starts walking away, and quickly starts covering ground as the others hang back.

Nahlah watches as Gearing starts zipping back and forth across the path in front of them. “Well… he seems to be moving faster.” She looks over at Swift and Handy as she shrugs. “That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

Sable lets out a sigh and shakes her head. “I am still concerned that he is, in fact, ill. And in a way that nopony can assist him with.” She waves a hoof in Gearing’s general direction before starting to follow along and commenting, “The increase in movement now means he was fighting with lethargy before. In all likelihood, he has multiple hindrances he is still trying to compensate for.”

Swift walks along beside Sable as she asks, “Is it something we should be worried about?”

Sable tilts her head as she gives it a lot of thought before shaking her head. “No, I do not believe so, Subject Swift. Nothing thus far has shown any source of danger.” She looks at Swift and grins before half trotting and half hopping, wagon harness or no, excitedly. “However, if my darling Gearing is this amazing while suffering from multiple ailments… imagine how great he will be once fully healed!”

Swift’s eyes go to their max as she starts putting together what the mechanical mare is saying. She remembers how Gearing was able to slink in and out of the shadows, quietly, and effectively, while in the lower levels. His aim with the rifle. His speed. His precision. His quick thinking while literally under fire.

All of it while hamstrung and bogged down with an unknown number of handicaps.

Swift nods lightly as she watches Gearing trot around in front of the caravan and even circling back a few times to make sure not to be too far ahead. “That… would be something to see.”

The group continues on the rest of the way to Megamac but, with Gearing’s increased speed, Nahlah doesn’t have as much opportunity to wander around without actually running to get from place to place while keeping up with the wagon group. Even Gauge is so busy keeping up, he doesn’t have enough time to be nervous and foul the air.

As they are approaching the large rusting walls that surround Megamac, Gearing notices the guards at the entrance in different positions than they were previously. Which gives him more than a bit of concern.

In the tower, the guards inside are obscured in complete shadows, as all sides have had shutters and cloths hung up to hide their forms as they provide overwatch. The light glow of a unicorn’s levitation field around the rifle pointed in their direction is Gearing’s only indication there’s anyone up there with his naked eye from this direction. Likewise the guards outside the gate at ground level now have a pair of barricades and defensive positions that they can peek out of. The practical tiny pillboxes are made of a combination of concrete, steel, and surrounded with dirt mounds.

Gearing hurries ahead of the group, deciding that if anyone’s going to get shot today he’d rather it be him, than the mare pulling the wagon. As he’s running up he yells out, while keeping his face towards the gate and his eyes directed up at the tower, “Hey! Where is everypony?!”

“We’re here, what do ya want?” a muffled voice yells from the left defensive position.

Gearing looks around at the various positions, and up at the tower. A scowl crosses his muzzle as he notices the rifle isn’t pointed at him, as intended, but towards the approaching group. And, more importantly, at Sable if his estimations are correct. “I need to talk to Breaker Bar, he’s expecting me… Why, what’s going on?”

“You always trot around the wastes with a potectapony souped-up to sentinel levels of firepower?” the voice calls out from the same hiding spot.

“Not usually, but she wouldn’t let him out of the house unless he took her with him,” Nahlah says with a laugh as she bounds up next to Gearing and looks around with a giant grin on her muzzle.

Swift trots up on Gearing’s other side as she looks around at the fortifications. “What’s with all this? It’s different than last time…”

“Iron Hoof?!” the voice from the left asks in a startled tone before an earth pony mare hops out of the defensive barrier and starts checking Swift out. She looks Swift over then yells up at the tower, “Holy shit, it is! It’s Iron Hoof!”

Gearing smirks and rolls his eyes before holding his hoof up. “I’m brass… not iron…”

She looks at Gearing as if he’d interrupted a very important conversation then waves him off with a hoof. “Not you, dumbass… her!” She points a hoof over at Swift. “It’s ‘The Iron Hoof’ Swift!” She hops around and jabs the air a few times with her forehooves as she grins like an idiot. “It took me half a case of Wild Pegasus to get out of my shifts to watch the whole fight, but it was totally worth it!”

“Fuck you, you bitch, that was a horrible trade!” Comes a pair of voices from the tower.

Swift grins widely as she sits down and points a hoof at herself. “Yeaahh… it was something… wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was something alright… I’m still catching shit over getting beat by ‘a model’. Like I’d let you win or something,” a grumbling voice says as a large brown earth pony stallion with a short cropped black mane steps out of the defensive position on the right. He looks her over and grins as he asks, “You come back for a rematch already? Still not satisfied with the way you won?”

Swift pounds the ground a few times as her grin gets wider. “Oh, I’ll take you on. Anywhere. Any time…” Her eyes narrow then she looks to the side as she says with a sigh, “Not now though, we’re on a bit of a time crunch.”

He nods and waves a hoof off towards the northeast. “I bet. I’m surprised you aren’t already heading there.”

Swift waves a hoof back towards Sable. “We’d come back to drop off Breaker Bar’s wagon, and make a pit stop before we head on the rest of the way.” She looks around and asks, “So, really, what’s with all this?”

He shakes his head and frowns. “Well, with the Reapers heading back home, the rats decided it was a good time to try something. Guess they thought me losing meant we’d gotten soft.”

Gearing leans sideways to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “The town’s defenses should have helped with that… What, turrets were all down or something?”

He starts laughing and grins at him. “Oh, no! Not at all! Thanks for that! It’s easier to sweep up the ash, than have to haul off dead bodies.”

Gearing waves a hoof around and asks with a chuckle, “Then… what’s with these new emplacements?”

The brown buck shrugs. “Well it took half of them getting ashed before they realized their fuck up… and only half of what was left made it back out of range. Couple of them got pissed, I guess, and have started taking pot shots at the guards.” He grins at Gearing and flexes his chest muscles causing the plates of his armor to ripple as he chuckles. “Don’t worry, we’ll track those little fuckers down. It’s what we do.”

Nahlah raises an eyebrow as she asks, “But what’s with this ‘Iron Hoof’ bit? I know you didn’t fight her with her powerhoof...”

The buck chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re right on that!” He motions towards Swift and says with a chuckle, “It was pretty much unanimously agreed on by the participates that getting hit by her, was about like getting hit with a solid hunk of wrought iron.”

“Ah,” Nahlah succinctly replies.

Gearing doesn’t say anything, and only gives a single firm nod of agreement.

The earth pony mare guard hops around as she yells with glee, “It’s Iron Hoof! It’s Iron Hoof!” She jumps over and leans in as she taps on her jaw. “Come on, hit me! I wanna good souvenir!”

“I… don’t think that’d be a good idea,” Swift says with a slight cringe.

“I think that’d be a bad idea!” Gearing says as he leans away from the wide grinning guardspony.

“I know that’d be a bad idea!” the large brown buck says with a laugh.

“Awww come on, come on, come on! I can take it! I’ve been in the ring before. Just one good smack on the kisser! Come on, Pile Driver, tell her it’s okay!”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and asks with a sigh, “Are you suicidal?”

The brown buck runs a hoof through his mane and shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re crazy… but alright… Sure, go ahead, if she really wants ya to.”

“Yeaaaaahh!” the mare guardspony says as she plants her hooves and stares at Swift with a grin.

“Well… alright…” Swift says with a shrug as she starts straightening up.

“No powerhoof!” Gearing and Nahlah scream in unison as Nahlah slaps her forepaws onto the side of her own cheeks and watches in horror.

Swift rolls her eyes. “I’m not trying to kill her, ya know…” She looks at the grinning earth pony and shrugs again as she says, “You asked for it.” Then flicks out her right hoof and connects with the side of the guardspony’s muzzle.

The mare guardspony spins around from the blow, and ends up staring at the gate as she stumbles and starts walking sideways over and into the defensive fortification she was in originally. She falls down into it, rolling and tumbling down into the dugout space behind the barricade.

The large buck walks over and looks down into the pit as he laughs, “You’re fucking stupid, you know that?!”

The mare crawls back up with a punch drunk giggle as she raises a hoof high in the air. “Worth it!” She licks her lips and her eyes go wide. “Blood?”

Gearing nods and grimaces. “Yeah… looks like it gashed your jaw… probably wanna get that looked at.”

Her eyes go to their widest and she grins even wider. “Hot damn! Maybe I should rub some dirt in it and make sure it scars up good and proper.” She looks down and says with the wonder of a foal, “Oooouuu a tooth? Is it mine?” She manipulates her tongue in her mouth a bit then springs up with her eyes wide. “It is!” She grabs it and sticks it into a pocket. “Hot damn, a kick ass scar and even got a tooth I can make a necklace with!”

The buck guardspony shakes his head and looks at Swift with his eyes narrowed. “She’s twigged. Don’t mind her.”

The mare climbs the rest of the way out of the fortification and stands next to him as she pokes him in the chest. “Hey! I just took a hit from Iron Hoof, and I’m still conscious! That’s saying something!”

The buck opens his mouth to say something to her, but then slowly turns to look at Swift and says with a snort, “She’s got a point there.”

“Yup,” Nahlah says with a prim nod.

“Agreed,” Gearing says as he frowns lightly and narrows his eyes at the mare that, he’s quite certain, has some form of brain damage.

“I don’t know if you’d survive if she was serious… or pissed, though…” the buck says as he looks at her.

Nahlah’s eyes go wide. “Oh, yeah. Especially with that power hoof. I don’t know any that have so far. Pissed and powerhoof?” She shakes her head and waves it away dismissively with a paw. “Not gonna happen.”

“Weeeeell…” Sable says, and draws the attention of all of them. “That’s not entirely accurate.” They stare at her and both guardspony’s eyes go wide.

“Who?” the mare guardspony asks as her eyes dart around.

Sable slowly turns her head and looks at Gearing, who lets out a sigh and looks up and to the side at the clouds above. The others all turn and look at him, with the guardsponies’ jaws hanging open slightly.

Except Swift, who, again, locates the excellent patch of ‘Wasteland Chic’ dead grass not far away and decides to focus on that for a few moments to avoid offering any information.

Pile Driver rubs a hoof through his black mane and looks over at Swift. “She’s kidding, right?”

Gearing lets out a snort then says as he brings his eyes back to look at him, “Remember, I warned you the first time we met: she’s got one hell of a mean left hoof.”

Pile Driver’s eyes slowly grow in size until he says softly, “Damn... you did. But how’d-?”

“Can we get inside already? I need to talk to Breaker Bar, drop off his wagon, and get some other things sorted, and we’re burning daylight here,” Gearing cuts him off with a scowl.

The mare guardspony jumps over and kicks at the gate a couple times as she grins. “Sure thing! In ya go! Anything for Iron Hoof and friends!”

Gearing looks back and forth and asks, “What about the toll?”

Pile Driver waves it off. “Nah, not for the crater champ. Whole town’d have our hide if we charged you.”

The gates open and they head inside. Before they get far in, however, Pile Driver yells after them, “Hey! While you’re there, remind my dad to check the firing arc on the turrets on the northwest side, make sure there’s no blind spot.”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at him and tilts his head. “Who?”

Pile Driver rolls his eyes. “You’re going to see Breaker Bar, right? That little tan old fart of a grease monkey? That’s my pop.”

Gearing nods and turns back where he was going as he yells, “Sure, no problem,” and the gates close behind them.

Swift ambles over and leans towards Gearing as she asks, “Did you know they were related?” Gearing’s eyes go wide as he keeps looking forward and shakes his head. “Me neither,” she mutters.

Nahlah zips around back and forth, looking at various buildings and peeking into the windows of a few shops as the group continues down the lane.

“Is this that shop you were talking about? Doesn’t look like much, mmkay,” Gauge asks with a frown.

“This is Megamac. The place Gearing was talking about is further away,” Swift says as she slowly looks back and forth and starts noticing more and more eyes peeking out to look at them.

“We going to stay here for the night? I don’t really wanna sleep in the open tonight, mmkay?” Gauge groans.

Handy nods as he looks around. “If we can. Sure. I wanna do some checking around town anyway.”

“I need to double check exactly where we’re supposed to be going anyway,” Swift says as she locks eyes with a few ponies here and there as they stop in their tracks coming from side paths to watch them continue down the road.

Nahlah gets closer to the group as she looks around and asks softly, “Are they planning on jumping us or something?”

Gearing kicks on his EFS for a moment, looking around and pretending to stare at various signs and buildings before turning it off and shaking his head. “Nah. None of them are hostile. Probably just gawking.” He looks over at Handy and nods further down the road. “You guys go on ahead and do what you need. We’ll take the cart back and get all of that sorted. I’ll keep in touch.” He raises his PipBuck laden hoof, giving it a light shake, and then turns and heads towards the M.W.T. building where Breaker Bar runs the town’s maintenance operations from.

He leads Sable around back to the delivery docks where he’d left with the cart from originally, before heading in and finding Breaker Bar. Leaving Sable, temporarily, to guard over it after she disconnects herself from it.

Inside Gearing finds Breaker Bar rather easily, he just had to follow the screaming. Gearing stands off to the side, politely, as Breaker Bar stands there and rants and dresses down a trio of repairponies as they stand in the middle of a pile of components that Gearing can’t even guess to what it used to be before somepony decided to turn it into a jigsaw puzzle.

After a few moments, the pony’s being yelled at start glancing over every now and then, looking at Gearing, and seemingly hoping he’d be kind enough to interject.

He doesn’t.

However, the constant side glances catch Breaker Bar’s attention enough to look over and see Gearing. He looks him over then whips his gaze back towards the three as he points a hoof at Gearing. “Now here’s a repairpony! He could work circles around all three of you sorry lot combined and still have time for a nap!” He shakes his head then points down at the combination of parts. “Just get it back together. Right this time!” They nod then turn and start picking through the parts, putting them back into boxes that they had apparently been in until they were recently knocked over or dropped.

Breaker Bar walks over to Gearing and grins as he looks him over. “Well I’ll be! I didn’t expect to see you around here anytime soon. If ever given the haul you made last time.” He sits down and grins. “What do I owe the honor?”

Gearing points to the back dock. “I got your wagon out back, like I promised.”

Breaker Bar’s eyes go wide. “You brought it back?!”

Gearing looks him over and says softly, “Yeeaah… that was part of the deal.”

Breaker Bar blinks a few times then stands up and starts heading towards the docks. “Well, damn.” He continues around to the back as he shakes his head. “Like I’d told ya, if ya didn’t it’d have been no real loss. But I still wasn’t really expecting you to bring it back. Thanks for keeping up with your side of the bargain!”

Gearing nods as he says, “Sure. I’m not a fan of burning bridges.” He looks at him sideway and smiles. “Also, I hear the defense networks already proving useful for you all?”

Breaker Bar starts laughing and shakes his head. “You could say that! Those stupid raiders thought we were going to be easy pickings with all the travelers here for the tournament and the Reapers gone… we showed them a thing or two!” He reaches over and pats Gearing on the shoulder. “And thanks to you, we didn’t lose a bunch of ponies in the process.” He opens the back loading door while looking back at Gearing with a grin. As the door opens the rest of the way, he turns back to look outside, and the grin falls right off his muzzle as his eyes go wide. He swallows hard and asks softly, “F- friend of yours… I hope?”

Sable looks at him and tilts her head. “We are not friends,” she comments as she turns towards them.

“Oh boy…” Breaker Bar moans as his eyes jump from the assault carbine on one side of her to the shotgun on the other side.

Sable looks between them and says with a grin, “My darling Gearing is my lover. And, one day, I shall bear his many children!” She rocks side to side happily at the thought.

Poor Breaker Bar looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“Sable,” Gearing says softly. “I know you’re trying to be polite and look at us while talking to us, but some ponies are gun shy and don’t like having barrels pointed in their direction. Even general direction.”

She looks down and at her sides, then back up. “Oh! I apologize!” She turns sideways but keeps her head pointed at Breaker Bar in a weird angle. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. This is my first time operating this sort of system.” She shakes her head. “But, do not worry. I have excellent control of the weapons and will only fire intentionally.”

Breaker Bar looks between the two as he runs a hoof through his mane. He shrugs and waves it away before he says, “I’m not even gonna ask.” He walks over to the wagon and stops a few paces away. “Hey… wait… you fixed it up too?!”

Gearing nods. “I said I would.”

Breaker Bar takes a few sniffs and leans towards the wheels. “I- is that fresh grease!?” He sniffs at the wheels a few times, increasingly deeply before he pulls back and looks at Gearing. “It is!”

Gearing nods and grins. “I fixed a few of the structural issues with it, reinforced the frame, and the suspension, and repacked the wheel bearings with some fresh grease.”

The little blue pegasus rolls around and giggles before it says, Insert lube joke here. Too late!

Gearing takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh, trying to control his own internal ridiculousness, before he waves a hoof at the wagon. “Anyway. There ya go. In better condition than I’d received it.”

“I’d say! This was beyond what I’d consider fair.” He starts walking inside as he says, “Speaking of which, there’s something else I got for you.”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof. “Don’t worry about it. I consider us even. This was the agreement and I’ll stick to it. You don’t owe me anything else.”

Breaker Bar starts moving around a few crates inside the back of the dock, then beckons Gearing in as he says, “Well this is on me. I made myself a promise that if you came back with the wagon at all, I’d give you this.” As Gearing hops in and walks over to him he holds out a bundle of cloth rolled up. “And considering what you’d done with the wagon, I’m certain of it. I’m sure you can get more use out of this than I will.”

Gearing tilts his head and grabs the cloth then unwraps it. He looks at the metallic rod with the various small gems inset into it with his jaw hanging slack.

“You know what that is, right?” Breaker Bar asks with a raised eyebrow.

Gearing nods and quickly wraps it back up. “A master key… why you giving this to me? These things ain’t cheap.”

“They also ain’t useful to all but a select few ponies.” He points at it with the forehoof. “I’ve had that thing for a looooong time. I got it in a mixed grab of scrap. The prospector didn’t know what he had. Considering you have a PipBuck, and worked for Stable-Tec… well… I figure it’s rightfully yours.” He gives a disgusted snort. “Especially if it keeps it out of those Steel Ranger bastard’s hooves.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and stows the still wrapped key into his saddle bag as he asks, “What’s your beef with them? Didn’t they save the town and all that?”

Breaker Bar sits down and shakes his head. “The ones who saved us. They were the original. They were heroes. Back when they still had honor. Or at least knew what the word meant.” He shrugs. “Don’t know what happened… but somewhere along the line they started valuing technology more than pony lives.” He points at Gearing’s saddle bags. “Believe me when I say this… The ones now? They would have more than happily killed me to get that. Without even asking first.” He shakes his head. “Trust me… The ‘Steel Rangers’ now, are little more than raiders with power armor. They take what they want, from who they want, and kill whoever they want to do it.” He waves a hoof and snorts. “They’re Steel Rangers in nothing but name now.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and says flatly, “Well… that’s concerning.”

“Aint it though?” Breaker bar says with a snort. He looks Gearing over then waves a hoof. “Look, I don’t expect you to take my word for it. You obviously haven’t had a run in with them yet. But, considering the kind of gear you run around with… be careful around them. If they knew how much you know… they’d either kill you, or try to force you to work for them.”

Gearing grins widely. “That’d be a trick.”

Breaker Bar starts laughing and almost falls over before he turns his head and looks at him. “Friends with Iron Hoof… Yeah… I should have expected that response from someone that runs around with her…” He leans in and partially closes an eye. “Tell me something though… you do a lot of night shifts… or only for special occasions?”

Gearing blinks and stares at him for a few moments before asking, “What?”

Breaker Bar smirks. “Iron Hoof isn’t the only one who’s made a name for themselves around here.” He waves a hoof and rests his head on the other forehoof as he grins at Gearing. “Rumors been getting thrown around like hooves in the Crater… Been mixed descriptions really. Some kind of lost protectapony… Or a souped-up Steel Ranger, that actually gives a shit about ponies, in a custom suit of armor… Or somepony that just pops up, helps, and disappears…” He raises a hoof and gives a smug smirk at Gearing. “But the one thing they all have in common… is he, or it, is some kind of repairpony. A very good repairpony that can disarm explosives and bomb collars in between heartbeats… If everything’s about the same pony and true that is.”

Gearing sucks on his teeth a bit then looks around as he waves a wing and says nonchalantly, “Sounds like there’s some very busy ponies out there…”

Breaker Bar lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “That little pink filly wouldn’t stop raving about the ‘Shiny Pretty Pegasus’ that saved her and her mother.” He points a hoof at Gearing’s side. “The one with the green see through wings.”

Gearing lets out a sigh and looks at his left wing as he lifts it lightly. “That’s the problem with any daylight… I stick out like ruffled feathers...”

Breaker Bar leans over and pats him on his shoulder. “Buck, you sure are something. Most I know would be parading through the town crowing about everything they’d accomplished.”

Gearing frowns and narrows his eyes as he says softly, “It works better when they don’t know you’re coming. When they underestimate you.”

Breaker Bar nods then lets out a sigh. “Well… then you should know that… well… you’ve apparently reached critical mass.” He shrugs as he starts chuckling. “Words already getting out about you… including your…” He raises an eyebrow as he says with a snort as he doesn’t actually believe it, “Request for locations for every raider and slaver den in Equestria so you can ‘rake the muck’?”

Gearing grins and bobs his head. “I see Roadie’s been by recently…”

Breaker Bar falls over laughing and holding his sides as he giggles. “Oh sweet Celestia, it is you!” He rolls side to side as he laughs for a bit. He uses the back of a foreleg to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes as he grins at him, “Buck, you are some kind of crazy, you know that?!”

Gearing smirks at him as he raises a wingtip for emphasis. “I’m crazy.” He points at Breaker Bar with the same wingtip and chuckles as he shakes his head. “But I’m not stupid.” He lets out a sigh and looks around as he says softly, “Thanks for the warning about word getting out. I was hoping it’d take a bit longer before word got out and it became a problem.”

Breaker Bar pulls himself up and looks Gearing over. “Buck… you don’t understand Equestria then.” He shakes his head. “The world needs Heroes. Badly. Word spreads like wildfire because pony’s need hope.”

Gearing lets out a sigh and looks down as he says softly, “All the heroes I know of… are already dead.”

Breaker Bar reaches over and pats Gearing on the shoulder. “Buck… they aren’t all dead… Listen to DJ Pon3… and you’ll know… They’re out there. I know of two that I’m pretty sure you’d just love…” Gearing looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, so Breaker continues, “The one known as The Stable Dweller busted out a bunch of slaves from Old Appleoosa… just the other day… And the Security mare up around Hoofington’s been busting up raiders and has practically declared war on slavers.”

Gearing chuckles and his eyes partially close as he smiles. “Sounds like my kind of ponies.”

“Well… there ya go… keep doing what you’re doing. You’re not alone in this.” He pats Gearing on the shoulder a couple times, getting increasingly more rough as he chuckles. “Just wait… one of these days I’m gonna be able to tell my grandkids that I was friends with the Hero Fixer!”

Gearing raises an eyebrow. “Fixer? What’s that about?”

Breaker Bar shrugs. “Well… everypony had to start calling you something… And since you just seem to be able to, and actually try to, fix everything under the sun, from corrupt ponies selling slaves, to equipment, bombs… hell… even fixing ponies with some not half bad field medic skills… The name just started sticking.”

Gearing smirks as he looks around. “Fixer… I kinda like that.” He rolls his eyes. “Better than fucking ‘protectapony’.”

Breaker Bar cringes. “Yeah… honestly that came up too, but got shot down pretty hard. Not unique enough if nothing else...”

“Uhm... thanks?” Gearing mutters.

“So, Fixer, what else can I do for you today?”

Gearing shakes his head as a few things run through his mind. Connections are definitely one thing he’s sorely lacking at the moment. And who better to start off with than somepony that has control of an entire town’s defense grid. Though being in maintenance brings up other things to mind. He looks over at Breaker Bar and raises an eyebrow. “Is the robotics maintenance section still functional here?”

Breaker Bar blinks at him a few times then nods. “Uhhh yeah. Why, what do ya need?” He points a hoof out the door. “Give the assault mare a tune up?”

Gearing shakes his head and snickers. “Actually… I was hoping to make use of the lubrication bath chamber.”

Breaker Bar rubs a hoof through his mane as he thinks it over. “Well, it’s there. But we don’t have any oil for it and I don’t know how functional it is. I really doubt the sonic generators on it are still working, those were always the first to break down.”

Gearing nods and looks around as he says, “Yeah, I just really need the lift portion of it where I can pour in the chemicals I’m going to need.”

Breaker Bar raises an eyebrow. “Nothing caustic, is it?”

Gearing shakes his head and chuckles. “Nah, nothing like that. Nothing strong anyway.”

Breaker Bar motions inside as he says, “Sure, I’ll show you where it is. Hopefully it’ll be good enough for what ya need.”

Gearing nods then quickly hops outside, to both fetch the jugs from the back of the wagon and have Sable follow him down.

In the basement, inside the actual bunker, Breaker Bar opens a locked door and motions inside as he turns on the light. “It’s in here. Robots broke down ages ago and got salvaged for parts. So this room really hasn’t had much purpose beyond storage and ‘just in case’.”

Gearing goes inside and starts setting down the jugs as he says, “That’s fine. Thanks, Breaker Bar.”

Breaker Bar grins at him then gives him a wink. “No problem, Fixer.” He looks between them and closes the door as he says with a chuckle, “You two have fun in there.”

Sable turns her head to look at the door, then tilts it as she asks, “What does he assume we are going to be doing in a robotics maintenance department besides maintenance? And why did he refer to my darling Gearing as ‘Fixer’?”

Gearing quickly starts unloading all of his gear as he looks around. “Because I fix stuff, apparently.”

He pushes a few crates out of the way, causing a screeching grinding metal sound as some of the crates had actually rusted to the floor and give protest to being moved at all. In the middle, away from the pods where various automatons used to recharge, is a large industrial ovaloid tub made of metal, except for a large view port that takes up most of the length of one side. He checks it over, carefully, making sure it has power, then checks the hydraulics for raising and lowering the metal grate inside that acts as a lift. Surprisingly it functions perfectly, if slowly.

Gearing finds the hose that had been used for rinsing off excess debris from the robots before they were put into the bath for deep cleaning, and runs it over to the tub. There’s more than enough length, and the end rests easily over the edge. It takes him some work to get the valve to turn at all. He’s worried he’ll break it, as it’s so rusted, and it takes him a bit of effort and gentle work to get it to slowly turn. As rust flakes fall to the ground, he’s greeted by the joyous sound of water pouring into the tub.

Along with the rapid ticking of his PipBuck accompanying the soft hiss of several small jets of water shooting out of the hose that has, clearly, been dry rotting for two centuries.

Gearing plays a wonderful game of keep away, where he tries to keep the water from getting anywhere but where he actually intends it to go. Using various limbs and wings to hold and apply pressure to the hose just long enough to get the amount of water he needs into the tub.

Sable even trots over and starts using all of her cables to help hold the water into the crumbling hose. She looks at Gearing and frowns as she says, “My love, this water is contaminated. Is it really wise to use it?”

Gearing shrugs. “Well, don’t’ have a lot of choice in the matter. But, it shouldn’t cause any problems for what I’m going to do with it.”

She looks down at the small growing puddles then at him as she asks with a tilt of her head. “If you are certain… although I don’t think this hose will last much longer. Its structural integrity seems to be ‘Critically Failing’ at best.”

And she was right.

A moment after she finishes, the hose begins to cascade break along its length, bursting in certain spots, simply segmenting in others, and in others it practically disintegrates as if it took a direct hit from a laser pistol. Pieces of dry rotted hose and radioactive water spurts everywhere as Gearing jumps over and quickly shuts off the valve.

The valve, for its part, stays the course and does its job of closing off again. Managing to stop the water. Before the handle on it, too, crumbles into rusted dust within Gearing’s hooves.

Sable walks around to the tub and looks in as she asks, “Will there be enough in here for your task?”

Gearing trots through the puddles causing his PipBuck to click and looks inside. The tub’s nearly half full, but far from where he’d really wanted it originally. He lets out a sigh as he looks it over then gives a shrug. “I’ll just have to make do. I don’t want to risk these pipes rupturing and flooding the bunker with radioactive water.” He grabs the jugs they had brought and starts measuring out differing amounts of the various liquids and powders and dumping them into the tub as Sable watches on.

He pulls out a pouch from his saddle bag and starts laying out the contents onto a cloth he places on a nearby metal crate as he says softly, “Sable… I’m going to need to ask a favor of you.”

Sable perks up and smiles as she nods. “Anything, my love.”

Gearing looks over at her and gives a wide smile before he looks at the tub. “I’m going to need you to help me put this stuff over my eyes…Then watch over me and be my eyes while I’m in the bath.”

Sable’s smile fades as she looks around. “I… do not understand.”

Gearing shrugs. “I’ll need to be completely submerged for at least twenty minutes. With my eyes closed and sealed over with this here.” He holds up some plastic ovals and a bottle of liquid. “I won’t be able to see until I’m out and you get this stuff off me… so… I’m going to have to entirely put myself in your hooves.” He gives her a soft smile. “If you’re okay with that.”

Sable nods and smiles. “I will watch over my darling Gearing and ensure his safety.” She trots over close enough to use a cable to shut, and lock, the door before shoving a large metal crate in front of the door. As she’s coming back she has her head held high and grins. “Room secured.”

Gearing chuckles then shakes his head as he starts fiddling with his PipBuck. A moment later it detaches and Sable takes note of the various pins sticking out of the inside as they are retracting back into the PipBuck, and the matching holes in Gearing’s left foreleg. He carefully sets it to the side, and then closes his eyes and starts applying the liquid to his eyelids. Sable watches carefully, then uses her cables to attach the provided plastic-like material to his eyelids with the liquid. They work in tandem, with him directing her verbally to explain exactly how she needs to make sure they’re placed, and her carefully doing as instructed. Afterwards he turns around and she uses her cables to direct and guide him up and onto the grate that functions as a miniature elevator for the tub. He lays down on the grate, spreading out as much as possible as it groans and gives protest to holding up such bulk.

Sable operates the controls and slowly lowers him down into the faintly bluish-green clear liquid inside of the tub. She’s unsure of what is supposed to happen, but starts counting down regardless.

Inside the tub, Gearing flattens himself along the bottom. Completely blind to his surroundings as he uses feeling alone to make sure his entire body, wings included, are spread out under the surface of the liquid.

Under the water, and as the liquid seems to quickly go to work, Gearing’s crystalline wings take on a near luminescent shine to them. Seeming to grow brighter in color and shimmer. As the rest of him dulls and seems to lose not only its luster, but very life.

Sable leans ever closer to the glass and becomes worried as she sees this take place, especially with Gearing not moving. She reaches out a cable, and taps on the glass a few times, but seems to get no response.

So she taps out quickly with Morse code asking if he’s okay.

Gearing’s ears twitch and turn around in the liquid as he picks up the echoing noise from inside, and Sable breathes a sigh of relief, as Gearing smiles then taps out on the grate a quick affirmative with a forehoof.

Sable looks in, running her eyes up and down his body, then a smile creeps across her muzzle as an idea strikes her. She taps out a quick message, watching as his ear rotates and takes in the sound. He arcs an eyebrow then taps back. She shakes her head, and smiles a bit as she taps out another message.

Gearing smirks, then taps a reply. She follows suit with a quick couple raps. He grins and raises an eyebrow as he taps out a final reply. To which she quickly taps out another, longer, message as the smile on her muzzle broadens.

Gearing starts laughing in the water, which is a weird sound of blubs and gurgles as he tilts his head and tries to stay under the liquid level as he laughs rather loudly. Loud enough that it’s even audible through the liquid and metal sides of the tub.

Sable simply stands there, with a wide grin on her face, feeling rather pleased with herself as she watches Gearing giggle in the tub of radioactive chemicals.

While he’s still snickering, Sable says verbally, softly, as she types out simultaneously, “Times up.”

Gearing gives a quick nod, and then stands up and out of the liquid. He starts laughing again, sending the liquid spraying out and running out of him as she operates the controls to lift him out. He turns towards where he’s pretty sure she’s standing and asks, “Did you really just tell a knock knock joke with Morse code? By knocking?!”

Sable snickers and lifts her head high as she says with pride, “It seemed appropriate, given the situation.”

Gearing waves a hoof in her direction. “Well, so much for missed opportunitAAGGHHS!” he shouts in surprise as the ancient lift gives out and drops him back into the tank. Which wasn’t a very far fall, but is exceptionally scary given his current blind status.

As Sable jumps over to the side of the tank to look at him resurface, and prop himself over the side of the tub with his forelegs, she asks, “My love! Are you okay?!”

Gearing nods then grins at her. “Yeah… Just falling for you all over again.”

She grins at him and shimmies her shoulders, even though he can’t see it. “It appears I am not the only one with jokes to tell today.” She looks him over then asks softly, “How do I get those… things… off of your eyes?”

Gearing waves over towards the cloth he’d laid out earlier. “You’re going to need to pull them off. But, in all likelihood you’re going to have to use the knife and cut, if not scrape, them off.”

“Use a knife to scrape it off your eyes?!” she asks in alarm.

He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s not going to be pleasant. But, I trust you. And it won’t permanently damage my eyes. If there are any problems, I brought a healing potion in my saddle bag over there that’ll fix any damage.”

She frowns, and then carefully does as instructed. Foregoing the combat knife and instead using the small scalpel. Using her cables she pulls the plastic back, and ever so carefully uses the edge of the blade to separate the material from his eyelids. However, there’s an obvious semi-transparent coating of some material on his eye as it’s slowly revealed.

Despite what’s going on, Gearing remains perfectly still. Using an absurd amount of focus to keep from so much as looking at her and avoiding causing her to make a mistake. After setting the second piece of plastic down, she asks softly, “Can you see me now, my love?”

Gearing opens his eyes and looks around a bit as he says, “For the most part. Yeah. We’re not done yet though. Could you soak that cloth in the liquid from that water bottle and use it to clean my eyes? Just the eyes though. Try to keep it away from everywhere else, please.”

Sable, again, works carefully, wiping off the globs of adhesive as it slowly dissolves in the solution coating the cloth. She works meticulously, even using a spare clean cloth to wipe them interchangeably as she leans in close to make sure all of the residue is off of his brushed copper eyes and brassy eyelids. “How is that now, my love?”

Gearing answers by leaning in, and giving her a soft kiss before he says, “Wonderful, I can see you clearly now.”

Sable happily trots in place, and then leans in and gives him a few rapid-fire kisses before she pulls back and looks him over. “I am happy to be of assistance to my darling Gearing!” She looks him over more as she asks quietly, “But… why did my Gearing do this to himself?”

Gearing carefully climbs out of the tub, using his wings to hover up into the air above it as the fluid continuously flows out of the various nooks and crannies of his body. “I kind of had to.” He gives a light shrug as he avoids eye contact with her. “I’m just too shiny. I stick out too much because of this fucking curse. Especially in the light. It’s like their intention is trying to banish me to the darkness.” He slowly looks at her and frowns as he says softly, “They can see me coming from miles away in the day.” He shakes his head. “It’s just too dangerous.” He looks her over and asks softly, “I hope you aren’t mad at me. I really needed to do this so I can operate easier…”

Sable looks up at him then lets out a soft sigh as she shakes her head. “My love… It was your heart I fell in love with… not the way you look. Well…” She gives a shrug then shimmies her shoulders. “And that fine ass flank of yours.” She grins at him as she reaches out with a cable and gropes his rear before she nods. “You still have it!”

Gearing’s eyes blink rapidly and his left eye clinches tightly as the phrase echoes through his head. It strikes a chord with him. For more than what was just said. He gets a gut punching sense of déjà vu, and a sense of something being very wrong, something off, but he can’t place it.

With the fluid finished falling out of his body except for residual drips, Gearing lands near her as he tries to think about whatever that feeling just was. But it fades like the mists of a dream that refuses to be remembered once awakened. Leaving him with nothing but questions and an uneasy feeling.

Sable looks him over, and the smile she’d had on her muzzle fades as she says softly, “That was not said in jest. I truly mean it…” She reaches out with a cable and rubs his shoulder as she murmurs, “I love you, Gearing.” Gearing looks up at her with a raised eyebrow and Sable smirks at him as she tilts her head, “Even if you’re not as shiny as you used to be… and traded in your golden sheen for a… dull dark gray?”

The chemical bath has rapidly tarnished Gearing’s body to the point that it’s taken on an abnormal patina of a near dark gun metal gray. Gone is the nearly golden surfaced buck with the polished brass gears and plates. Except for his eyes where he had masked off the reaction with other supplies. His eyelids are still the multilayered overlapping brass shutters they’ve always been. And his actual eyes are still the bright polished copper they were a bit ago. But the rest of Gearing’s metal form has darkened and dulled beyond recognition.

However, as a side effect, and thanks to basic color relativity, now that most of his body is so much darker, his wings look far brighter. The chemicals seemed to have no effect on the crystalline stained glass of his wings. Leaving them just as brilliant as they were previously, with their shades of greens and blues. But, now, without a golden body and frame to compete against, they practically glow as they reflect and refract the light in every direction.

Gearing smiles and shrugs as he says, “Well… it’s good to know a quick color change isn’t enough to deter you… Would cause some serious problems later on if that was the case.” He looks off to the side as he debates on explaining some more. Maybe preventing some problems in the future by letting her in on some information now. But eventually decides against it.

Sable slowly traces his jaw with a restraining cable as she asks, “Is it permanent? Does it hurt?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and looks down at himself before he shakes his head. “It’ll wear off eventually. It’s only a surface treatment. And any gears that grow out and get replaced won’t have the covering.” He shrugs and gives a sheepish smile. “Hurt’s not really the right word… but isn’t entirely wrong either. Best explanation is it itches. Constantly bothers me.” He gives a dismissive shrug before smiling. “But, it’s not the first time I’ve had to resort to this, so I know it’ll become less annoying as time goes on.”

Sable frowns then leans in and gives him a kiss on the side of his muzzle. “I am unhappy with my darling Gearing being irritated and uncomfortable… but I can understand your desire for safety.” She nods a hard affirmative. “Indeed, I approve of anything that’ll keep my darling Gearing safer.” She looks over at the tub and asks, “What shall we do with the remaining solution?”

Gearing follows her gaze and bobs his head back and forth for a few moments before he shrugs. “This place hasn’t been used in decades. Can just leave it in there, in case it’s needed later. It’ll slowly dry anyway.” He looks over at her and waves at it with a hoof. “If the facility was still working I’d used the purge function, or drain it off into storage barrels for future use. But, can’t really do that now. No telling what kind of damage there is to the system and where the chemicals would end up at.” He gives a shrug. “Don’t need it leaking out in some poor farmer’s field and ruining their crops.”

“But, just to keep other accidents from happening…” He grabs a beat up clipboard with aged paper off of a workbench and uses the back side of the ancient paper to scrawl a quick message.

Not Water

Poison

Do NOT drink

Then scribbles a quick picture of a pony skull and crossbones below it with the chemical formula of what was used. He uses a bit of wire and hangs the clipboard over the edge of the tub facing the door as he says, “That should cover it.”

He carefully grabs his PipBuck, and starts putting it back on. After fiddling with it some more, and making small adjustments to its positioning, it clicks into place, and Gearing’s entire body gives a quick jerk. He looks up and meets the intense stare of Sable as she looks back and forth from it to his eyes. He gives a dismissing shrug of a shoulder as he says, “Don’t worry. That’s normal. I’m fine.”

She stares at him without moving. “Hmmm.”

Gearing quickly starts putting his equipment back on as he says softly, “Though I would consider it a large personal favor if you don’t mention this… to anyone. Ever.”

She frowns and looks at it as she replies, “As long as it does not become a danger to my darling Gearing, I will refrain from disclosing its peculiarities.”

Gearing shrugs and gives her a wide smile. “I suppose that’s the best I can ask for, isn’t it?”

Sable gives a quick nod, and helps him get his armor on, sneaking in a quick kiss on his head before setting his helmet onto it. “Where will we be going next?”

Gearing clears the way to the door as he says with a nod towards the stairs, “I’d like to see if I can grab some kind of cloak or other kind of cover. But we need to meet up with the others and verify the plan for the night.” He leads the way out, making sure the door to robotics maintenance is locked again before making their way entirely out of the M.W.T. building.

Footnote: Stabilizing ‘move assist matrix’, please stand by. . .

Stabilization of ‘move assist matrix’ complete, debugging in progress, please stand by. . .

‘Move Assist Matrix’ Online. . .

Perk Unlocked: Dynamic Movement Assistance Implant (Agility +) – Modified from the same principles that were used to increase the strength of users of power armor, this talisman implant enhances the recipient’s movements. The matrix aids the host’s micro and macro movements by increasing spin rates and decreasing friction coefficients between parts dynamically. The implant knows where and how to apply rotational boosts to maximize movement while minimizing effort: Resulting in a small passive speed increase along with bonuses to all Agility based skills and those that benefit from the subsequent increase in fine motor control. (Lockpicking, Repair, Sneak, etc.)

Author's Note

This chapter has a bit of a peek at some of the growing consequences of the groups actions. Some positive. Some not. Some, most really, not even revealed yet. Along with moving along with a few plans the individual characters have, some of which they aren't feeling up to sharing with the rest of the group at the moment.

Thanks to everyone that's been helping with this project, in any and every way. All of it combined has really made this continuing project not only easier, but actually enjoyable for me. So thank you. Each and every one of you. :yay:

As always, comments, questions, and critiques welcome and encouraged!

30 Chromatic Limelight

Gearing runs through a list of his companion’s tags, and finds they all seem to be in the same relative location. When he gets to the area, near the tournament crater, he spots a building that seems to be made primarily out of six stacked metal shipping containers. Three containers side by side and two high with the narrow ends pointing towards the crater. Gearing’s eyes travel over the various fluorescent lights that have been cobbled together from preexisting signs to spell out the new place with mixed colors and fonts. Crater Side proudly glows on the side of the metal above the front door. A front door has been built into the bottom center shipping container in such a way that the metal doors of the shipping container could be closed and sealed up again, to protect the inside set of wooden doors.

He heads inside, with Sable close behind, and is a bit surprised to find the inside has been mostly hollowed out, and converted into some kind of entertainment bar or restaurant. The right side has a bar counter that runs almost the entire length, with a set of liquor filled shelves running just as far along the wall behind it. All around, most of the floor space is cobbled together furniture from an amazing variety of sources. A couple wooden spindles that once were used for wire, sit on their side covered in glasses and bottles. Crates. Boxes. Even a few school desks seem to be repurposed for use as tables. Then, of course, there are a few actual tables present as well. Most of the large dining room variety. And one picnic table. Benches included.

But what really strikes him is how crowded, loud, and generally busy the place is. He hasn’t seen anything like this since strolling through the front doors of some of the seedier speakeasy style dives in Manehatten. Pre-Balefire. Ponies of various ages and colors clamor around talking, drinking, and eating. Though most of the attention seems to be directed towards the back left section where nearly half the patrons are crammed together in some kind of discussion.

A dark blue unicorn mare in an apron walks by floating a tray in front of herself. She pauses to look at Gearing and Sable sideways and shakes her head as she mutters, “More?!” She nods off towards the side opposite the door and calls out to them over the general clamor, “I think there’s still some spots over there. Watch your step, place is packed tonight.” She looks at Sable then at her weapons and frowns. “And keep those out of my butt, please.” Then she scurries off to tend to the crowd.

Gearing starts heading where directed as he looks around. Once enough of the wall of ponies has been sufficiently cleared, most of which politely step out of the way of the heavily armed, and armored, pair, he sees something that he really wasn’t expecting. Half of the back side of Crater Side is dedicated to a small raised platform. While most of the rest of the place looks pieced together, the raised platform looks built with care. Highly polished and not a sign of breakdown. The boards used to make it look like they had either come from a stage that’d been disassembled and brought here, a hard wood floor of some ritzy house, or possibly salvaged from some dance studio.

And, if all of that wasn’t strange enough, given the location and the world as a whole currently, a blur of dark tan fur zips around all over it. And continuously hops up and down as the owner of the fur periodically hangs from the ceiling and tinkers with the lights above the stage.

Gearing walks over and grins up at her as Nahlah plops down again onto the stage with her face still directed to look at the hanging lights above her. “You trying to catch them or something?”

She looks down at him then her grin explodes as she hops back onto her haunches and points at him with both forepaws as she hops back and forth on her hind legs. “Ouu! Ouu! Gearing! Gearing! Just the pony I need in my life so badly right now!”

Sable slowly tilts her head as she stares at Nahlah and lets out a grumble. Not liking the phrasing one bit.

But Nahlah doesn’t care.

She points up with a paw at the array of lights and asks, “Gearing! You fixed the lights in the freezer, can you fix these? I got them orientated right. But I think a couple of them are shorted out, and I keep burning my paws trying to get them fixed, and it’s just not working and I really need them to work like now, and, and, and…” She looks at him and tilts her head as she sits down, and then slowly tilts her head back and forth. “And… what did you do to yourself?” She looks back and forth between Gearing and Sable. “You get in a fight with a flamethrower or something?”

Gearing shakes his head and takes flight as he says, “Soot would just wash off. I needed something that’d last longer.” He starts looking over the lights but doesn’t say anything else about it.

“Riiiight,” Nahlah says as she watches him flutter over head. She gets a goofy smirk across her muzzle before slowly lowering her eyes to meet Sable. “Wasn’t my intention, but that’s a pretty nice view from here.” She points up with a paw and grins widely.

Sable stares at her for a moment, then narrows her eyes as she says with a grumble, “My darling Gearing is mine… Subject Nahlah.”

Nahlah waves it off and smirks. “Right, right… But that view’s, nice, ain’t it?”

Sable walks over closer while staring Nahlah in the eye, and Nahlah’s eyes go wide, as her focus jumps from Sable’s eyes, to each one of the barrels pointed right at her. She gives a sheepish grin before she swallows hard. “Just… just kidding,” she mutters as she looks at Sable.

Sable walks right up onto the stage and practically flush in front of her, then directs her gaze upwards, looking at Gearing as he hovers above them and works on the lighting rig. Sable sits down and a grin crosses her muzzle. “Subject Nahlah is correct…” She looks back at Nahlah and smiles. “Subject Nahlah has good tastes.”

Nahlah gives a prim nod and puts a paw on her chest. “I pride myself in seeking out and enjoying the finer things in life…”

Sable grins at her, then leans in and looks Nahlah eye to eye. “You may look… But Gearing is mine, Subject Nahlah…”

Nahlah’s eyes jump wide and she nods quickly. “Right… sure… I’m not a home wrecker.” She points up with a paw repeatedly. “I just need him to fix the lights.”

A few moments later Gearing drops down next to the pair and spits out a pair of pliers into his wing before stowing them in his tool belt. “Should be good. Wasn’t anything serious. Wires just got loose from the contacts… Probably happened when they salvaged and transported the rig from whatever auditorium they got it from.” He points a hoof off to the side. “The controls on the wall seem to work too. They did a good job of putting it back together.”

Nahlah hops back and forth on her hind legs as she claps with her forepaws. “Oh yay! Thanks, Gearing! That’s amazing!” She hops over and gives him a big warm hug before pulling back and grinning. “I’d kiss you! If your marefriend wouldn’t blast me to the moon for it.”

Sable shakes her head. “I would not blast you to the moon, Subject Nahlah.” Nahlah looks over at her and smirks, but it fades quickly as Sable continues. “That would be an exceedingly wasteful use of resources.” A gem tipped laser pops out of it’s hidden compartment on her shoulder as she comments, “Disintegration is far more efficient… and sanitary.”

Nahlah’s crooked smirk twitches a few times as she looks at Sable. She leans sideways towards Gearing and says softly, “I… I can’t tell if she’s joking or not, and it’s bothering me.”

Gearing looks between them and smirks before he leans sideways towards Nahlah while looking at Sable and replies, “It probably should… ‘cuz I can’t tell either.”

They glance sideways at each other and Nahlah giggles before spinning around and starting to hop around the stage. “Great! We’re almost ready. Go grab a table and get comfortable.” She hops up on her hind legs to stretch over the crowd and uses a paw to shield her eyes from the overhead lights as she peers through the dark beyond the stage and mutters, “Now where’d that buck go?”

Gearing looks around to try and see where she’s looking, and then looks back at Nahlah. “What?” He shakes his head. “Whatever. Never mind. Where is everyone else? They should be here.”

Nahlah nods and then starts walking by as she sees her chosen target in the crowd off to the side, near where most of the other patrons have gathered in a practical mob. “Yeah. They’re here. They’re just talking and haggling… Boring stuff.” She turns sideways and pushes his side with both of her forepaws, getting nowhere really, as she says with a scowl, “Go sit already!” Then turns and prowls off through the crowd.

A few moments later the lights in Crater Side dim as most of them cut out except for a few strategically placed can lights that provide a dim, but warm, mood lighting for the majority of the interior. The bar area has a few lights below counter level so they can make sure what they’re doing with the drink mixing without causing a distraction for everything else. Though it gives the waitress running back and forth behind it a strange under lit effect when she’s back there.

A light blue-gray earth pony stallion walks to the front of the stage from the back in a cream colored long sleeve shirt with a red kerchief in the breast pocket. He sets down a microphone stand before giving the microphone it holds a quick tap, causing feedback to come out of some hidden speakers above the lighting rig above himself. The stallion looks around as he adjusts the derby hat on top of his head and chews on the cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth. “Alright, everypony,” his gruff voice echoes out. He grins widely around the cigar and waves a hoof towards the back corner where the large crowd is barely paying him any attention. “Tonight I’ve got a special treat for you at Crater Side, and we’ll be beginning in a moment.”

He looks around and chuckles as he waves off towards the back corner. “And, in case you’ve been under a rock… we’ve got a special guest here tonight… Megamac’s own champion of the crater, Iron hoof, is joining us for the evening with her entourage.” A variety of whoops and hoofstomps of applause rise up from the crowd.

Gearing looks over in the back corner, and can’t help smirking as he wonders just how Swift is handling all of the attention.

“But,” the light blue-gray stallion says with a chuckle, “apparently she’s not the only local celebrity that’s popped in here tonight.” The crowd quiets down a bit and he savors the moment before he says with a wide grin. “Apparently… we’ve had a visit from none other than Fixer himself.”

This actually draws a few gasps and the attention of most of the ponies that had been practically ignoring him until this point.

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he slips sideways at the partial wooden crate that’s functioning as the table he’s sitting at. Scooting flush with Sable on his right side and pulling his left wing in tightly while angling it to minimize the shine from his crystalline wings.

The stallion nods and looks around over the crowd before giving a shrug. “I don’t see’em, but the evidence speaks for itself.” The crowd looks at him in silence before he points a hoof up above himself. “The sneaky bastard fixed the lights while nopony was looking. How in the hell’s he do that?!”

Several look up at the ceiling and a few actually snicker as they start looking around to see if they can spot the elusive repairpony.

He takes off his hat and holds it to his chest as he says with a smile, “Well… if you’re still within earshot, Fixer, I just wanted to say thank you. Personally. Not for the lights, but for what you’ve been doing to help improve the lives of ponies everywhere.” He looks around waiting for a response, but no one says anything for a while as they wait for some form of acknowledgement.

But Gearing remains silent.

After it becomes clear that no one’s going to fess up, a couple of the townsponies let out another whoop, and start another round of hoofstomping applause. As they’re still cheering, the buck puts his hat back on and says with a smirk, “Well, that’s fine too. I’m sure you know we’re grateful.” He turns and heads over to a piano just outside of the beams of harsh light from above and sits down as he starts looking it over.

As the light blue-gray buck talks with Nahlah next to the piano, and looks over a few pieces of paper she’s laying out for him, Gearing grabs the bottles and cups off his table and takes them up to the bar counter while everyone else resumes talking. Although at a more subdued level. After the waitress has left the bar area, walking right by him as he’s setting down the collection of bottles, Gearing gets a smirk across his muzzle. He scribbles out a quick note, and sets it under the bottles before turning around and moseying back through the crowd to join Sable again.

The rest of the bright lights on the stage drop off one by one until only the one in the dead center is left on. A moment later the microphone stand slowly starts sliding back towards the rear of the stage as the cable is used to fish it back until it’s just on the edge of the illuminated portion of the stage. A quick jerk of the cable sends the stand off-kilter, and the microphone on top disappears into the darkness as the stand starts tipping over, but then stops and stays angled as it’s being held or propped up just outside of the light. The action is accompanied by a soft pop of the live microphone tapping against something.

The microphone appears back into the light as it starts getting set up right and held up by a tan paw. A soft voice grows out of the speakers as a matching tan feline muzzle enters the beam of harsh light, just enough for their mouth to be visible, and sings, “Back hoooome they tried to tell me, what to doooo…”

The piano off in the darkness on the side of the stage strikes up with a quick run of the keys, before falling into a jazzy harmonious tune that begins alternating between supporting the vocals from the background, and playing round robin with what is said.

A hush falls over the crowd as the stage, and the alluring tune, earns the attention of every ear and eye in Crater Side. Just in time for Nahlah to step the rest of the way into the light, with the microphone held gently in one paw close to her muzzle, and the artificial flower, modified with a few small dangling ribbons, adorning next to her left ear. She slowly opens her eyes upon the crowd as she nods lightly and looks them over while continuing the tune, “And let me tell ya fellas it, made me blue.”

She cradles the microphone with one paw as she waves dismissively with the other. “They’re all ‘Why don’t you do liiiike, the other ‘Ess dooo?’”

She rolls her head on her shoulders to look at the crowd on the left side of the stage and shrugs as she continues, “They said, ‘Get back in line, and do some huuuuntin’ toooooooo.” She swings her gaze over the whole crowd as she holds the last note.

The piano begins a few runs and picking up pace as Nahlah begins walking around in the circle slowly, pacing gently to the beat with each step.

She grins out at the crowd and picks up volume with a rich tone as she waves out at the crowd with a spare paw. “If ya sittn’ there wondern’ what I’m,” She shimmies her shoulders and dips down with the line before coming back up, “all abooooout.”

Nahlah turns sideways and starts high stepping back and forth.

“Let me tell ya what made meee, scream and shout.

They say, ‘Why don’t you do liiiike, the other ‘Eeeess doooooooo?’”

She turns abruptly to face the crowd and grins as she shakes her rear and gives her tail a snap with the motion behind herself. “And so off I weeeent,” She gives a wink and uses her spare paw to make a few air quotation motions as she sings, “to do some ‘huntin’ toooooo.”

The piano picks up again as Nahlah sways side to side to the beat before she slowly sits back and gives herself a hug with her spare paw as she looks out at the crowd and locks eyes with a lone stallion sitting at a table in the center nearest to the stage. She gives him a wink and belts out, “A big strong buck is, what I wanna see.”

Her eyes trail next to him to the unicorn waitress who levitates a beer off of a tray and starts bringing it over to set it on the buck’s table as she watches the show, but the beer stops moving midair as Nahlah locks eyes with her next.

Nahlah starts running her spare paw over her chest and body as she wiggles and licks her lips while maintaining eye contact with the waitress. “Maybe a delicious maaaaaare: a filly fan-ta-sy.”

The waitress’s eyes go wide, and the hovering beer absentmindedly floats back to her. She wraps her lips around the top and takes a pull from the bottle while keeping it sideways, and out the line of sight between her and Nahlah, as she gives the apparent offer some thought. “Hmmmm.”

The buck looks back and forth, then at the beer, and points at it as he asks weakly, “Hey… isn’t that mine?”

“Oh sorry, here,” the waitress says only half interestedly before setting it on the table and walking off.

The buck looks at it for a moment before grabbing it and taking a sip as he shrugs and goes back to watching the performance.

Nahlah stays seated and waves dismissively with a paw as she leans back and sings with a grin that practically travels along with the music. “Forget ‘Why don’t you do liiiiiiiike, the other ‘Eeeess dooooo.’”

She leans forward and cradles and caresses the microphone with both forepaws as she closes her eyes and makes sweet musical love to it. “Cuz I found a liiiiiife, like no other ‘Ess knew-oooou.”

Nahlah opens her eyes and nods as she sings with a softer almost resigned tone, “I fell for this life,” She gives a shrug and a weak smile. “home’s not home for meeee.”

She points out with a paw and bops it to the beat as she motions over the crowd.

“And if ya listen bust-ah, it’s plain to see.”

She shakes her head. Slowly. Sadly.

“I’ll never do liiiiike, the other ‘Ess dooooo.”

A warm smile crosses her muzzle as she gives a sheepish grin that just makes her look adorable up there on stage. “I’m too busy loooviiin’, this world I’m passn’ throouuugh.”

She walks up to the edge of the stage as she belts out with fierce lung power, looking up more at the ceiling and musically challenging the universe itself.

“So why don’t I do liiiiiiiike, some other ‘Ess do?

I’ve crossed the liiiine,” she lowers her gaze to the crowd and smiles again as she shakes her head and gives a shrug of her shoulder. “now I’m huntn’ yooouuu.”

She slowly stretches out her paw towards the crowd as she ramps up her voice. “Too busy huntiiiiiing…” She slowly closes her grip as if holding onto the crowd itself, but leaving one digit pointing out towards them all as she finishes with a long drawn out note that continues to fade, even after the piano already ceases, until it’s completely inaudible. Yet leaves an echoing ring in everypony’s head clearly enough that they aren’t sure if they really heard it originally or if they simply imagined such a sweet note. “Yooooooooooooooooou...”

There are groans from many in the crowd as it’s left a physical ache of desire.

The absolute stunned silence that follows is only shattered, by a beer bottle likewise shattering on the floor of Crater Side. The offending buck looks down at the school desk that he’s sitting behind, and sees how it’s partially lifted and tilted to the side, which caused his drink to fall off in the first place. He quickly puts his forehooves onto the table and pushes it back down with a grunt as he blushes and hopes nopony saw that.

The unicorn mare waitress walks by the bar and tosses her apron on the counter as she looks at one of the regulars. “Hey, Nutty, tell the boss I went out for a smoke break…”

The bar fly waves it dismissively as he sips from his mug and barely looks at her. “Sure. No problem.” A moment later he shakes his head and calls after her. “Hey, you don’t smoke!”

When Nahlah turns and starts walking out of the beam of light, the room erupts into hoofaplause and whistles as the crowd starts cheering for her. She snaps around and leans into the light just enough to blow a kiss with a wink at the crowd in general before slinking back out and going to collect her bag and papers from the piano. A few moments later she makes her way through the crowd, with a variety of ponies complimenting her on her voice and more than a few asking when she’s going to perform again.

She walks up to the table with Gearing and Sable and waves a paw across from them as she asks, “Mind if I join you?”

Gearing waves across from them with a hoof. “Sure.” She smiles, and quickly takes a seat with them, and Gearing takes note of the hair pin by her ear. “I see ya found a use for the flower.” He gives her a smirk. “I was sure you would.”

She smiles lightly and runs a paw up her face to gently caress the flower and play with the ribbons dangling from it. “Yeah. Found the rest of it in a shop nearby. The owner practically threw it at me when me and Swift were in there browsing and I asked about it.”

Sable nods. “It looks good on you, Subject Nahlah.”

Nahlah scrunches her shoulders up to her ears and smiles widely before looking back and forth and tapping on the table with her forepaws. “So, what did you think?”

“I believe it was a rather pleasing song and, judging by the reactions of the audience, everypony else agrees,” Sable says with a wave of a forehoof.

Gearing nods and leans over the table a bit before he asks, “You going to start singing here regularly? I’m sure you could make some decent money at it.” He tilts his head and asks a bit softer, “And… is that why you started traveling? Wanting to sing and get away from a sucky home life?”

Nahlah snickers and shakes her head slowly. She gives a light shrug and says softly, “I can’t stay. I really need to keep moving… And as for home.” She looks at him and gets a sad look on her face before she forces a massive grin on her muzzle. “Life’s too short to just do what others that don’t care about you want.” She gives a shrug and adds, “I just wanna experience as much as possible, and enjoy life as much as I can while I still can.” She looks over the crowd and says softly, “We’re all living on borrowed time, and it’ll catch up to us eventually.”

He studies her expression for a few moments wondering if she knows that she has a hit out on her. Although, the evidence of that had been removed, hidden, destroyed, and at least one intended perpetrator left for radroach chow.

The little blue pegasus in his head hops around and points off towards the corner of Crater Side as it points out Swift might have told her about it.

Sable raises a hoof and asks as she draws Nahlah’s attention out of her thousand yard stare through the crowd. “Subject Nahlah, I do have one question about the song though… What is an ‘Es’? I am unfamiliar with that term.”

Nahlah opens her mouth to say something and Gearing says flatly, “’Ess, as in Tigress or Lioness… it’s the feline equivalent of ‘Mare’.” He looks around at the crowd, then, feeling the intense stare, turns back to look back and forth between Sable, who nods her appreciation for the information, and Nahlah, whose jaw is hanging open and her eyes wide in bewilderment. He tilts his head and says with a chuckle, “I did a lot of traveling around the world before the war ended… and before I did that I was a reclusive bookworm.”

Nahlah shakes her head then starts laughing. “You?! A bookworm?! No way!”

Gearing shrugs. “Well… When you don’t sleep, and are actively avoiding the rest of the pony race, there’s only so much you can do that doesn’t include equine interaction.”

Nahlah narrows her eyes, not believing it for a moment. “Mmmhmm.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment and asks, “How’s that so hard to believe? How many other ponies you know that read technical manuals and scientific journals like their novels? Everything I know I’ve had to study and learn, you know.” He chuckles and taps on his head. “I’m not a horn head… can’t just magic it up into my skull.”

Sable nods and looks over at Nahlah. “He is quite studious. My darling Gearing’s inquisitive and curious nature leads him to a lot of exploration and experimentation.” She looks over at Gearing and grins widely as she narrows her eyes. “It is how we became… attached? After all.”

Gearing’s eyes bug out and he looks sideways at Sable. His ears start whistling as he doesn’t need any more clues to what she’s referring to.

Swift walks through the crowd, who simultaneously crowd around, but make a respectable path for her to pass through, as she walks up to the table and looks Nahlah over. “Hey, Nahlah... You’ve been holding out on me. I haven’t heard that one yet.”

Nahlah waves it off with a paw and says, “Eh. I wasn’t quite sure it was ready. But when I saw the stage, I just had to ask if I could try it out.” She grins up at Swift. “I’m glad you were here, Ms. Iron Hoof, I don’t think he’d let me use his stage if you weren’t here.”

“Yeaaaah… this might be getting a bit out of hoof… but I’m glad you got the opportunity,” Swift says sheepishly as she rubs her right forehoof on her left upper foreleg.

“Swift, what’s the plan for tonight? You find out where we’re going? And you got a place for the night lined up or we going to just head out and find someplace along the way?” Gearing asks as he looks up at her with a raised eyebrow.

Swift does a double take as she whips over to look at him from looking at Nahlah. She leans in and narrows her eye as she looks him over. “Gearing? What the hell…?”

Gearing grins at her and gently runs the side of his hoof over his own muzzle as he says with a chuckle, “Yeah… I’ve had a bath… Clean up pretty good, don’t I?” She starts opening her mouth to ask an obvious question and Gearing frowns at her then says softly as he cuts her off, “We can talk about it later if ya want, but not here.” He darts his eyes around to a few members of the crowd before looking back at her and tilting his head as he raises an eyebrow.

She gets the hints.

She waves it off with a hoof and looks at Nahlah as she says, “Yeah, we’re staying here. They got a room for us. Probably going to be here late tonight anyway, so that’ll help. Nahlah, you remember that shop we were in earlier that the buck gave you the ribbons?” Nahlah smiles and brushes the artificial flower by her ear as she nods. “Great. Could you show Gearing where it is?”

Both Gearing and Nahlah tilt their heads as they regard her.

Swift directs her attention to Gearing then waves off towards the door. “We’ve been talking to a few townsponies, and the scrap shop owner has a skywagon on the roof of his place. But, it’s not functional at the moment. Some kind of short with the system or something. They said if we can get it running again we can use it. Handy say’s it’d take a long time to track down whatever’s wrong with it.” She gives Gearing a wide grin and tilts her head. “And I was wondering… if Mr. Best Technician Ever ‘Bar None’ would want to try putting his bits where his mouth is and see if he can get it working.” Swift tilts her head to look at Gearing out of the corner of her eye as she puts a hoof to her muzzle and chuckles. “If you think you can handle it…”

Gearing narrows his eyes and shakes his head as he thinks the obvious manipulation attempt is very obvious.

The little blue pegasus in his head hops around with ruffled feathers as it yells, You have challenged my honor! I demand satisfaction, sah! It picks up the oversized gauntlet that drops on the ground in front of it and throws it back at Swift. Have at you!

“I’ll give it a look and see what needs to be done.” He stands up and starts turning towards the door. “If there’s enough of it there, I’ll get it to fly.”

Swift grins then looks over at Nahlah and motions towards Gearing. “So sure of himself…”

Nahlah hops up and chuckles as she walks around to lead the way. She pauses and looks at Swift as she shimmies her shoulders. “Yeah… but is it really narcissism… if he can really do it?”

Swift rolls her eyes and waves them away with a hoof as she starts turning around to go back and join Handy at the massive table that was reserved for them in the back corner.

As they are reaching the door, the unicorn waitress passes them and starts cleaning off the collections of bottles and mugs on the bar counter. She tilts her head, and uses her levitation field to pick up a piece of paper that she uncovers. Her eyes bug out, and then she runs over to the stage waving the sheet of paper in front of the cigar chewing stallion. He reads it as she holds it aloft and his eyes jump open to their max as he almost drops the cigar out of his mouth.

As Gearing and Sable are exiting the doors, the lights inside kick on fully and the light blue-gray buck grabs the microphone and yells out, “Alright, where are you!?” Everypony stops talking and looks up at the stage to see what the outburst is about. The stallion waves the page around and says with a laugh, “Fixer’s in here everypony! Still in here! He left a note saying ‘You’re welcome’ on the counter!” His head whips back and forth as he starts looking over each pony one at a time. “Is he out of his golden armor? Is that why I don’t see him? Oh, come on, this is ridiculous you sneaky bastard! Come on out and say hello to everypony already!”

Nahlah looks over her shoulder as the door closes and they stand outside. “What was that all about?”

Gearing gives a shoulder shrug and continues down the lane Nahlah was headed towards. “Who knows, maybe somepony skipped out on their tab?”

Nahlah scrunches her nose and partially closes an eye before she shakes her head. “That doesn’t make sense. He said Fixer was in the bar.”

“Oh?” Gearing asks as he keeps walking and casually looking over the buildings they pass.

Nahlah looks at him and grins. “Yeah… Apparently he’d give you a run for your money, Gearing.”

Gearing slowly turns his head and looks at her. “Oh?”

Nahlah starts giggling. “You should see your face right now!” She waves a paw at him dismissively. “Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite repairpony.” She turns and continues leading the way as she says with a giggle, “But apparently Fixer’s as good or better than you at repairing things… and he’s got you massively beat in the body count department.”

Sable looks back and forth and asks, “Body count? What are you referring to, Subject Nahlah?” She glances sideways and sees Gearing’s eyes go wide.

Nahlah keeps looking forward as she blindly waves over her shoulder. “On several different evenings he’s just popped out of the shadows like some kind of demon and wreaked havoc on slavers and raiders alike. Exact numbers are unknown, but he’s credited with taking out a group of raiders and an entire den of slavers.” She turns her head to look back at Gearing and raises a paw as she says with a grin. “In just one night.” She shrugs and continues pattering down the lane towards the salvage shop. She gives a giggle as she runs up to a metal reinforced glass door. “You need to up your game, Gearing!”

Sable walks over next to Gearing and whispers at him, “But, Breaker Bar called my darling Gearing ‘Fixer’… My darling Gearing is Fixer…”

“Uh huh,” Gearing says softly with a smirk as he looks at her sideways.

Her eyes zip back and forth before she says with a smile, “I’m going to tell her.”

Gearing reaches over with his wing and pats her flank. “Don’t you dare.” She looks at him quizzically and he grins at her. “Let’s see how long it takes her to figure it out.”

As they are approaching the door that Nahlah had already hopped through, Sable asks, “Is this a prank of some sort?”

Gearing shrugs as he opens the door for her. “Nah, just an experiment.”

As she’s walking in she leans over and gives Gearing a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then she grins as she says, “I’ve made a log entry of the time so we can accurately assess the amount of time that passes.”

Gearing and Sable walk through the aisle, with various salvage stacked high on shelves, and approach the counter that Nahlah is leaning on in front of a young unicorn filly. Nahlah waves a paw towards Gearing and Sable as she says, “I’ve brought my friend to take a look at your uncle’s skywagon.”

The filly looks up from reading an old magazine on gardening and landscaping. She looks back and forth between Gearing and Sable and shrugs before she motions off towards the side. “Well, good luck with that. Hasn’t worked for a while and Uncle’s not been able to do anything with it but bitch about it not working.” She shrugs. “He’d probably be just as happy if you threw it off the building, and dragged it out of town, so it wasn’t taking up space up there and he didn’t have to look at it anymore.”

Nahlah snickers then motions with her head as she leads the way around the side and up the various sets of stairs.

Gearing lets Sable go up first, then gingerly tests the metal scaffolding stairs himself one soft hoofstep at a time. It gives a creaking of protest so he decides to give it a pass and flutters up the stairs instead. Better safe than sorry by his reckoning.

Once they reach the roof, he sees and can understand the general frustration of the salvage shop’s owner. The roof has a variety of crates and other extra merchandise, most of which is closed up inside of one shipping container or another. The largest container on the roof takes up the length of the building, and has been modified so the side of it has been removed and propped up to make an awning. Most of the space under the awning is taken up by a skywagon that’s certainly seen better days. With the skywagon there, they can’t close the makeshift awning, and he probably really wants to have more secure storage space that freeing up the shipping container would create.

Nahlah hops off to the side and strikes a pose as she presents the skywagon with both forepaws. “Tadaaaaaaa.” She looks back and forth with her paws still high in the air. “Think you can fix it?”

Gearing shrugs as he walks up. “If it’s fixable… and I have the right supplies. Yes.”

Nahlah waves it off then points back towards the door where they’d come from. “He’d said you could use whatever you needed to ‘get that thing the fuck off my roof’.” She snickers. “But if it’s not up here, it’s probably downstairs.” She cringes and slowly lowers her paws as she says, “He did say that if you need a few certain parts… he’d have to charge. And if you can’t find it in the store, it’s put up, and you’ll have to ask for a price.”

Gearing nods as he starts looking over the skywagon. “Yeah, probably talking about a regulator or a coil. Those things weren’t cheap parts even when they were being regularly produced.”

Nahlah waves with a paw and heads back towards the stairs. “Well, I’ll get out of your mane. I wanna get back to the bar. One of the waitresses promised to make me some kind of scorpion egg casserole and I’ve just got to try that before we leave!”

Gearing waves her off as he says while only partially paying attention, “Sure, enjoy.” He sits down and slowly runs his eyes over the skywagon as he starts sorting out which to look into first. It’s a smaller skywagon. Either a family passenger wagon or small delivery wagon variant. He’s not entirely sure. It’s a generic model. Nothing fancy. One of the ones that was a pain to find in a parking lot because there were so many of the exact same kind around it to blend in with.

Cheaply made. Massed produce. Utterly forgettable in appearance.

However, being rapidly fired off the assembly line means it’s both simple in design, none complicated with its construction, and there are plenty of parts to cannibalize from other wagons.

And, even better, the individual parts could be manufactured with far greater ease than their more obscure, or proprietary, fancier competitor’s versions. Which gives him more room to improvise if need be.

Gearing and Sable lift the wagon onto some crates, and they begin going over it. Gearing quickly finds that, despite his worries of impending loss of caps, the most expensive parts actually all seem intact and functional. Or should be. But he won’t be able to tell until he powers it up.

He puts in a spark battery, and jumps as he sees exactly why they’ve refused to use it. There’s a massive short somewhere in the electrical system bad enough that a few places actually arc with electricity. He quickly yanks out the spark battery and looks it over.

Sable looks back and forth then holds up a restraining cable that has a scorch mark on the end as she examines it for damage. “How do you intend on combating this? It seems rather… concerning in its severity.”

Gearing looks over at her slowly and raises an eyebrow. “Do you doubt I can do it?”

Sable looks at him and tilts her head, then grins as she says, “Oh no. My darling Gearing is a capable technician. The best. He can fix anything.” She nods a hard affirmative as she repeats, “My darling Gearing is the best…. But…” She turns to look at the wagon and says softer, “I am just uncertain of how my darling Gearing can… fix it.”

Gearing raises his wings, catching some rays from a few of the electrical lights enough to make his fluttering wings sparkle and twinkle. “Have you met me yet?” He gives her a wink and starts walking towards it as he chuckles. “Watch and learn, Sable my love. Watch and learn.” He hops over to the wagon and bends over, burying his front half under the wagon as he starts exploring the underside mechanics.

Sable’s eyes follow him over with a smile, and then drop down as she watches him bend over. She sits down and starts grinning widely as she says, “I’ll gladly watch my darling Gearing…” She tilts to the side a bit and says softly, “A bit more to the right…”

“What?” Gearing asks as he starts yanking down on the electrical harness and wiggles around to get a better angle.

She swishes her tail happily and just enjoys the show as she replies, “You’re doing fine.” She waves a hoof dismissively, “Carry on.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh then asks, “Sable, mind holding this for me, please?”

“Gladly!” A pair of her restraining cables leap out to happily comply.

Gearing pauses, then tilts to pull his head out enough to look at her as he holds up a junction box still connected to a power cable on one side. “Sable…”

“Yes, darling?”

“I meant this connector… not my rear.” He uses a wing and rattles the junction box until her eyes, and attention, move to it from where it had been previously: firmly planted on his back side.

She looks back and forth for a moment. “Oh.” She looks highly conflicted then grins widely as she locks eyes with him. “I can do both!” And another cable comes out to grab the junction box and hold it out of the way for him.

While keeping the other two firmly planted on each of his haunches.

Gearing rolls his eyes and asks, “So what’s got you so… distracting… tonight?”

“Subject Nahlah expressed her appreciation of the view my darling Gearing presents, and what’s mine.”

“What’s yours?” he asks as he continues working while steadily getting groped from behind. Sable’s cables give his rear a few rhythmic squeezes in response. “Ah,” he says with more amusement than anything.

“Indeed. Subject Nahlah has good tastes.”

As Gearing is jerking on some stubbornly rusted-on parts under the wagon, one of the metal crates suspending it caves in, as a side buckles, and the wagon starts falling down at an angle as it begins sliding off the other crates.

All of Sable’s cables jump over under the wagon and snake across the ground, creating an arc that stops the wagon from falling any further, and then lifts it carefully back up. One of the cables slips over, grabs a military grade ammunition chest, and yanks it back under the wagon to push the scraps of the other crate out of the way and take on the task of holding the weight of the wagon up.

“Got it?” Gearing asks as he remains motionless as she quickly readjusts the load balance.

“Of course, my darling,” Sable says with more than a bit of pride in her voice.

Gearing chuckles, and only goes back to work after the majority of her cables return to her. Sans the one holding the power junction and the other two providing ‘rear support’ for Gearing. “It’s nice to know you take watching my flank so seriously.”

“I am glad you approve.”

Footnote: Error detected: ‘Hydra Matrix’ system corrupted, please stand by. . .

Quest Perk: Local Legend - “Hey, didja hear the latest?!” Your various deeds have become the topic of conversation around campfires and bars in equal measure. Your reputation is starting to outpace you. Those with a positive outlook of your exploits will be more likely to provide favorable rates in trade and divulge information you request or they think may help you. Note: Expect the exact opposite from those you’ve annoyed with your meddling. It’s the price of fame.

Author's Note

This chapter helps set up a few things that are going to start rapidly taking place in the FoE:CwP verse. Also gives a lot of insight into one of the members of the group that, until now, hasn't really revealed much of herself beyond personality. This chapter presented a few issues for me, as I was wanting to capture Nahlah's showmanship side of things, and I hope I managed to get that across well enough to do her justice.

Story marches on with more mission way-points coming active. But only time will tell just how well those turn out.

Thanks again for all of the help, interest, and support! Things are really starting to pick up for me again now that I'm not fighting bio-demons. So look forward to more weeks of steady twice weekly updates coming down the pipe!

As always: Comments, questions, and critiques are welcome and highly encouraged!

-Quillsy

31 Watcher in the Night

While Gearing is sifting through a box of parts from a wide array of equipment, looking for anything he can use for the skywagon sitting half disassembled nearby, an echo tears through the night of a rifle’s report. Gearing’s ears zip around back and forth as he looks in the general direction of Megamac’s front gates. “That wasn’t aimed at us, was it?”

“I do not believe so, my darling Gearing.” Sable says as she turns her head and slowly looks back and forth into the gloom of the night. “There was no localized impact, nor air disturbances to indicate a near miss.”

Gearing shrugs as he pulls out a pair of capacitors and starts scrutinizing them. “Would explain the new fortifications.”

Sable keeps staring off towards the front of the town as she comments, “I do not understand why they would attempt to do such a thing in the middle of the night. The likelihood of inflicting any fatal injuries is negligible. And judging by the sound, they are taking the practical blind shots from a considerable distance. With weapons not designed for such.”

Gearing shrugs and tosses the capacitors back into the box as he keeps rummaging around. “I think it’s more of a fear tactic. Maybe trying to screw with them. Or, maybe just trying to get lucky… Even a broken clock can be right twice a day. They need to get rid of who’s ever doing it before someone gets seriously wounded. Or killed.”

Another report greets their ears, followed by a quick few more.

This time there’s a scream of pain, from nearby, that follows echoing out and kicking off a variety of commotion near the main gate.

Sable tilts her head and says softly, “It appears my statistical analysis was in error…”

Gearing tosses the piece he’d just picked up back into the box as he rolls his eyes. “Nope. Long shot odds can still happen.” He lets out a long sigh as he turns and starts walking towards Sable. “It’s amazing I can get anything done with the constant interruptions and Celestia’s horn buried so far up my ass.”

Sable’s eyes go wide and she leans back to look at his flank as she says, “I do not see any evidence of a horn…”

Gearing waves it off and smirks at her. “Would you sort through those boxes and try to find another capacitor that’s compatible with the skywagon? If you can find the other parts I’d mentioned earlier, while I’m gone, that’d be helpful.”

Sable nods and looks him over as she asks, “Are you going to be okay?”

Gearing looks at her, and sees the concern in her eyes. He leans over and kisses her cheek. “I’ll be fine.” He flares his wings and mutters, “I just need to work out some frustrations at the moment… and feel like I’m actually being useful for a change.”

She watches him take to the air and quickly disappear into the night sky. She lets out a sigh and shakes her head before turning and beginning to sort through various boxes simultaneously as she mutters, “You don’t need to justify your existence to anypony, Gearing… and shouldn’t have to justify it to yourself.” She looks up towards the direction of the front gate and frowns as she murmurs, “Be safe, my love.”

* * *

At the front gate the guardsmare with a gash on her jaw hunkers down inside of her bunker as she screams, “Where the hell’s that coming from?!” Several more bullets impact into the fortification and into the wall behind her as she stays low to the ground. “Fuck, this is bullshit!”

A scream coming from her left side draws her attention as another volley of bullet reports make it to the wall. She watches Pile Driver, who’d been poking up to try and spot where the shots were coming from, taking a round that ricochets off the concrete in front of him. He falls back and sideways into the lane as a hoof quickly comes up and holds onto the side of his neck as he yells in both pain and anger.

She hops up as she screams, “Pile’s hit!” She jumps her focus up towards the tower, and watches a few impacts hit up there too as she screams at them. “The fuck are you two doing up there?! Drop them already!”

“I can’t get a shot!” a mare screams back.

“By time I line up on the muzzle flash they’ve already moved to a new spot,” a buck’s voice replies.

A flash of a florescent green blur draws her attention back towards Pile Driver, and she just gets her muzzle pointed in that direct in time to watch Pile Driver get thrown at her. She jumps to the side to avoid getting pinned, and comes back with her rifle at the ready towards whoever this new attacker is.

But they aren’t there anymore.

“Hey! Gimmie your knife,” a voice says from behind her.

She spins around and sees a dark figure, with luminescent green wings that seem to practically glow in the low light provided by the electric lamp in the pit with her. “Wha- who the fuck are you!?”

Gearing snaps a wing out, deftly yanking out the combat knife from her shoulder holster, before turning towards Pile Driver on the ground. “Asking stupid ass questions when Pile Driver’s life’s in danger. Damn, Swift must really have gave you some brain damage with that jab earlier.”

She was about to shoot him in the back, but lowers the rifle as she raises an eyebrow. “Wait… what? How’d you know…?”

The light suddenly goes out with a shower of sparks as Gearing rips it apart to get at the internal electrical components. A moment later the knife he’d taken starts glowing a cherry red as it sparks from the wires attached to it. He steps over to the thrashing Pile Driver and almost lays on him as he holds him down and shoves the buck’s hoof out of the way. “This is gonna suck, but you’ll thank me later!”

Pile Driver’s eyes go wide, and then he lets out an even louder scream as the cherry red blade is introduced to the side of his neck. Partially cooking and scorching fur, hide, and flesh simultaneously. But stopping the flow of blood as well. Gearing pulls away, and rips the wires from the knife as he looks at the mare who stares at him in disbelief.

“Hey, brain-dead, can you carry him?”

She blinks a few times then nods. “Hell yeah I can.”

Gearing nods towards the front gates. “Get him inside then. And don’t let him move. I’ve cauterized the wound, but he needs proper treatment. That scab comes off and he’ll likely be dead in minutes.”

She jumps over and starts beating on the gate. “Open up! We’re coming in, Pile Drivers hurt!” As the gate starts opening she turns to say something, but her eyes bug out as Gearing charges forward, on his hind legs, while carrying Pile driver completely aloft with his wings and forelegs. He shoves her back into the town, practically depositing Pile driver into her lap, then spinning around and snapping his wings. Disappearing into the night again. She stands there gawking as the gate shuts again and she asks, “What the fuck?”

Several other guards come over with a stretcher from a side building and they start loading Pile Driver onto it. The muzzle gouged mare pats him on his chest with a hoof as she gives a soft smile. “You’ll be fine, Pile Driver. Just hold on. We got you.”

* * *

Around a low campfire a group of dirty ponies wearing wagon pieces as armor sit chuckling in the remains of a collapsed building that’s little more than the outer shell. Beyond the low light provided by the small fire, darkness is complete and they can’t see much. But they already know there’s not much to see beyond their little haven. The area’s been picked clean already and infuriatingly barren.

A mare unicorn holds up her rifle and giggles. “I can’t believe those dumb asses thought that bit of dirt would protect them from me. Me of all ponies! Baddest shooter in the whole gang!”

“Yeah, baddest is right… you used what… two magazines to get a single hit?” A buck says with a laugh before taking a pull from a dirty beer bottle.

An earth pony mare uses a piece of leather to clean and sharpen her knife as she says glumly, “Not saying much considering how few of us are left.”

The mare with the rifle glares over at her gangmate. “Gotta try and drag us down with that shit, huh?” She raises her rifle and grins. “I took that big bastard down. Shoulda seen him rolling around in the road.” She looks at the others one at a time and nods her head. “Once word gets out… our crew will grow again. Only eight of us?” She waves a hoof and laughs. “Just means bigger shares of the loot! But with Pile Driver gone, that town’s going to be easy pickings now. He coulda been a Reaper if he wanted. A few fights up in Hoofington and he’d be a shoe in.” She starts laughing again. “But the idiot decided to stay here and die instead!”

“Actually, you ran off too soon.”

They jump up to their hooves and look at the dark figure just inside the door of their little refuge as it slowly walks in further, but barely makes a sound.

The light just barely glints off of a few parts along the edges as he continues, “Flesh wound really. They’ve already got him inside and taking care of it.” He steps a few more times until he’s practically being flanked by the nearest two as Gearing’s grin becomes just barely illuminated in the campfire light. “He’s going to be just fine.” He looks at the unicorn mare with the rifle sideways as he asks, “Bit full of yourself, aren’t you? Taking practically blind pot shots in the middle of the night from outside of your rifles effective range? Then trying to boast about it like you’re some kind of elite sniper?” He shakes his head and chuckles. “You got balls.”

“So do you… walking into our camp like that. Who the fuck do you think you are?” the earth pony buck on his left asks as he taps on his own shoulder with a spiked club.

Gearing looks sideways at him and grins. “Nopony special… just somepony who was trying to get a wagon fixed for a trip in the morning, and was very rudely interrupted by some dumbass taking pot shots near me.” He looks over at the mare with the rifle and frowns. “You’re really screwing with my deadlines and timetables…. You know that?”

The stallion with the club looks over at the unicorn that still has her rifle lazily pointed to the side and asks, “What kinda dumbass tries to work on a wagon in the middle of the night?”

The mare on the far right with the knife she’d been sharpening drops it as her mouth goes slack. “G- guys… green wings…” Her eyes go wide as she starts backing up. “Green wings!”

Gearing grins and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “… Clever girl…”

An earth pony mare jumps out from the shadows to stand in front of Gearing as she pulls out a pistol from its holster and brings it up towards him. Simultaneously Gearing turns sideways, bringing his right wing around and hitting the buck with the club, right across the throat with his wing’s edge, and bucking the mare that was on his right with his back left leg in her side. The buck drops the club, and starts gasping for breath and holding his throat as the mare gets sent flying backwards into the wall nearby. Gearing grabs her hind hoof with his left wing, before she’s fallen entirely to the ground, and completes the spin by throwing her through the air to crash into the unicorn mare with the rifle, sending the rifle skittering off into the darkness and both of the mares tumbling across the ground in a heap.

The mare that’d jumped in front of him manages to level her pistol at Gearing’s head, but didn’t expect him to lean into it.

He bites the end of the small pistol, practically looking like he’s trying to kiss her around the gun. His wing comes up and hits the magazine release, and then starts yanking the magazine away as she fires the first round. He twitches and lets out a grunt as the pistol discharges into his mouth. He managed to steal the magazine, but not before it chambered a second round. The second round fired makes him recoil, but he has a firm grip on the pistol and yanks it right out of her mouth.

Along with a few of her teeth.

He flicks his head, sending the pistol flying off into the darkness before he turns back around and glares at her. Her eyes go wide as he practically growls. She watches in horror as he spits out the first bullet, which is massively deformed and mushroomed, right back into her face. And her jaw drops in disbelief as he spits the second bullet out, and bounces it off the headband she’s wearing on her forehead. Right between the eyes. Then he tilts his head and spits the rest of a bunch of tiny bullet fragments off at one of the bucks that had run up to hit him with a sledgehammer that has saw blades welded to the sides.

But, seeing Gearing practically eat the bullets, he slacked his swing and actually jumps back and away from him as he hesitates getting within range of him.

Gearing looks between them as he smacks his lips and shakes his head. “Bleeegh.” He uses a hoof to rub on his tongue a bit before he looks at the mare that’d tried to shoot him in the face. “Have you ever cleaned your gun? I can taste the residue buildup, it tastes like sadness!”

“What the hell are you waiting for!? Get him!” the unicorn mare yells as she jumps back into the light with her rifle and brings it up to aim at Gearing.

“Whoops, look at the time! Gotta go!” Gearing yells with a laugh as he springs over, shoves the still stunned, and partially toothless, mare back and out of the way as he hops over the fire then zips straight up and out with a few quick pumps of his wings.

A variety of weapons discharge after him as the group crowds around the fire to unleash a volley and hopefully knock him out of the air and bring him back for them to finish off. But he’s apparently made good on his escape into the darkness beyond.

The mare that’d gotten knocked over after having her gun taken from her shakes her head and starts picking herself back up as she looks where he’d gone. She trails her eyes over the fire and tilts her head as she asks, “Hey, who threw the cram can in the fire?” The others look down at the fire, watching the old paper label burn off.

The explosion that follows sends a fireball shooting up the cement walls and into the night sky. In the next instant the camp fire’s been extinguished, and the only movement within the walls is the slow patter of various debris.

After a few moments of silence, a small portable emergency light kicks on as Gearing steps back into the building from where the side door used to be. He surveys the damage and grins as he sees a green ammo container along the wall. “Thank you for your donation to the stable defense fund…”

* * *

As Gearing is putting the last couple items he’s recovered from this raider camp onto his pile of equipment, salvage, and supplies in the corner, his eyes regularly jump towards a segment of broken exterior wall. He starts bundling up the various items, putting like items together, and organizing the whole cache for transport.

He grabs a large sheet and starts loading it up like an improvised bag as he turns his muzzle towards the gap in the wall and calls out, “Alright, MoM… You just going to sit out there, or you going to come in and say something?”

No response comes from anywhere in the universe he can detect.

He drops the bag onto the ground with a half throw as he turns and faces the gap. “Look, dumbass, I have excellent night vision… and in case you missed the PipBuck, I have E.F.S. too… I can see you.” He sits down and waves a hoof at the gap as he says, “You gave me all those warnings about raiders and slavers and bad ponies, and said you’d be in touch when I told you I’d get to raking the muck…” He folds his forelegs and glares out into the pitch blackness of the night. “So why are you acting all shy now?” He grabs the rifle that the unicorn mare had been using and waves it with a wing as he asks, “Or do I need to scrap that sprite bot to prove the point? I mean, I will if you want, but I’d really rather not damage government property…” He puts the rifle back down and waves a hoof dismissively as he groans. “Paperwork… soooo much paperwork.”

Still no response.

“Come on, MoM, what’s your deal?” Gearing asks with a huff.

“I’m not your mother, Gearing,” a modulated voice comes out as a hovering sprite bot flutters into the building with him through the gap in the wall.

Gearing looks the bot over then lets out a huff. “So you’re not the Ministry of Morale… Well that’s concerning…”

“Why would you think I’m with the Ministry of Morale?”

“Well, I was contacted a few days ago by MoM and asked to take care of a few things. A loooot of bad ponies need to be…” A grin crosses his muzzle as he tilts his head and stares at the bot. “Punished… And you’re currently using a Ministry of Morale sprite bot to talk to me… so it should be an understandable assumption to make.” He waves a hoof and frowns. “Though… if you’re not with the ministry, that means you’re using unauthorized access… and that part I find very concerning…”

There are a few moments of silence as the operator of the bot seems to think the situation through. Then it asks, “Gearing… What year do you think it is?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and folds his forelegs in front of himself. “I’m not some mental case. I know it’s been two hundred years. I’m very much aware that everypony’s dead.” He looks off to the side and lets out a hard snort of disgust. “I don’t need some hacker to remind me that while everyone else fought and died, I was too busy napping to do anything.”

“What?”

Gearing glares at the bot and screams, “The fuckers caught me napping, alright?!” He points with both forehooves to the right side. “One day I’m doing my job.” He brings both forehooves to point to his left side. “The next I’m coming out of stasis two hundred years later.” He shakes his head. “I don’t expect you to understand how fucked up it feels to know so many died while you were asleep somewhere safe.”

There’s a long pause before the voice comes across softly, more like the transmission was accidentally done and not done closely to the microphone, “…Probably more than you realize…”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof. “Know what. Never mind. I’ve had enough kicks to my brain recently.” He shakes his head and asks with a slight frown, “What do you want? If you aren’t with the Ministry, are you the one that’s been stalking me? I’ve seen sprite bots watching me from a distance in several locations. It’s not a coincidence. I figured MoM was just keeping tabs on my work… but if that’s not the case… then what?”

“Trying to figure out what kind of pony you are.”

Gearing smirks. “Could just ask.”

“That doesn’t usually go over too well,” the voice laughs through the bot.

“Well I’m the kind that, given this situation,” He motions between the two with his wing, “I’d be more than happy to explain a few things about myself and what I’m willing, and able, to do… but first… how much do you know about me?”

“I think I have a pretty good grasp by now. You’ve intervened in multiple raider attacks. Took out an entire slaver encampment, and rescued the ponies they had enslaved there. You left them the supplies that the slavers had, instead of taking it yourself. And, at least as far as I can tell, you haven’t actually done any of it for any kind of payment. So as skilled as you are, you’re not some kind of mercenary.” There’s a moment of silence before the voice adds, “You’re an oddity in the wastes.”

“That’s all you know about me?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I’ve seen more of the same. Pretty predictable pattern of behavior really. Why? Is there something else?”

Gearing taps a forehoof on the ground as he stares at the sprite bot and wonders how much he can trust such an anonymous individual. He waves up towards the sprite bot as he says, “Well, you’re obviously in the Ministry’s networks… you’re telling me you haven’t come across any files on me in their databases? At all?”

“I don’t have that kind of access, Gearing. The sprite bot Node network is separate from everything else.”

Gearing points up with a wingtip, then lowers it to point at the sprite bot. “Ahhh… but you managed to get into that network… didn’t you? Which means you could have gotten into other networks… other databases… potentially.”

The bot remains silent for a long few moments, and Gearing quickly loses patience with not even a denial.

“Well… I said I’d tell you just how I operate…” An unsavory grin crosses his muzzle as he says, “So here goes…” He takes in a deep breath then the mirth disappears like smoke as he narrows his eyes at the sprite bot. “If you happen to come across certain files on me, you’ll know what I’m about to say is the truth. And if you happen to come across them… keep it to your damn self.” He points a wing at the sprite bot. “I don’t give a shit if you’re in the system and using it to watch out over Equestria. That’s kind of what it was designed for. Whether you’re getting your jollies watching the blood bath, peeping on fillies taking a bath, or whatever. I don’t really care. However, if I find out you’re using the system to cause harm to innocents. If you sell out defensive information so raiders can attack towns. Attack caravans. Aid slavers stealing and raping children. Any of that abso-fucking-lutely horrible shit that’s been going on by the train load now?”

Gearing shrugs and actually chuckles a few times. “Ooohhh ho hoooo boy… I’ll bring a level of hell down upon you that you can’t even imagine.” He stands up and starts walking towards the bot as he growls. “Just a hint… part of my job was exposing and dealing with leaks… and traitors… In my entire active career, not one of my assigned targets got away. Some took longer than others, but I always got my mark.” He lifts up a wing and counts off with feathers, “I don’t sleep, I don’t stop, and I never give up.” He pokes hard with a wingtip at the bot and scowls. “And I really don’t give a rat’s ass who it is. A general in the middle of a secure base? Been there. Done that.”

Gearing starts chuckling as he sits down and waves dismissively. “I really don’t even care if you’re some giant dragon hiding in a cave somewhere, makes no difference to me. Wouldn’t be the first dragon I’ve brought down. You cross me. You lie to me and send me after innocents to do your dirty work. I find out you’ve been fucking over the foals I’ve been trying to help. Or you end up being a truly rotten pony.” Gearing shakes his head and stares right at the sprite bot. “You’ll be signing your own death warrant…”

He rolls his eyes and waves a hoof. “And before you give me some shit about ‘Well hur hur if you’re all that, why didn’t you kill the Caesar?’ get your facts straight… I had more than enough opportunities to do it.” He shakes his head. “Killing the Caesar would accomplish nothing, and those in Equestrian high intelligence knew it. He’d just be replaced, quickly, and probably with someone even nastier.” He glares at the bot and narrows his eyes. “I was under strict orders not to kill the Caesar. Period.” He points a hoof at the sprite bot as he says softly, but with a growling menace, “So factor that into your decisions…”

“Wow… that’s… I mean…” There’s a slight pause before the voice says, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s been so candidly and openly hostile with me, that actually took the time to explain it, instead of just shooting the bot and running off with the scrap.”

Gearing shrugs. “As you said, my motivations lead to some pretty predictable behavior… So… you pretty much know how I act and why now… are we going to have a problem… or not?”

“I’m not sure if this is going to work. You’re not exactly what I’d expected,” the sprite bot admits.

Gearing raises an eyebrow. “What, expected me to just run around fixing all of your sprite bots so you can keep spying on ponies?”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d be willing to do more of what you’ve been doing…” Gearing raises an eyebrow and the bot comments as the operator notices he’s earned a bit more attention, “Rescuing ponies… stopping raiders and slavers… that sort of thing.”

Gearing waves a hoof. “I’m happy to lend a hoof where and when I can… but… a wise friend told me long ago… If you’re really good at something, never do it for free when you can get paid for it.”

“I thought you weren’t a mercenary?”

Gearing grins at the sprite bot and shakes his head slowly. “I’m not talking money. Money’s usefulness is rather limited… I need assurances, and information.”

There’s a pause before it asks, “What kind of information?”

Gearing points at the bot and frowns. “You need to promise not to tell a fucking soul about me. Not to boost morale. Not to let them know I’m on the way to help. Not even to let them know that I did anything to help them.” He shrugs and waves it away with a hoof. “I don’t do this for recognition. Never did. Never wanted that. I do it because it’s right. Because there’s creatures out there that desperately need help, and aren’t getting it.” Gearing taps on the floor repeatedly for emphasis as he scowls. “Right. This Second…” He waves it away with a wing and scowls. “And my job’s just going to get harder the more is known about me. So keep my goings on to yourself, and definitely out of the ears of whatever radio announcers there are.” He waves it away with one slow sweep of his wing. “Don’t need that kind of shit in my life. Let that ‘Security Mare’ and ‘Stable Dweller’ have all the glory. I don’t do well in the spotlight.” He looks at the bot and grins. “Please and thank you.”

“That’s easily enough done… but what information did you want?”

Gearing smiles widely. “Targets.”

“Targets?”

Gearing holds up his PipBuck and points out the map and a few points of interest he has yet to visit. “You have the bot network, you can find the trouble spots easier than I can, so I could make detours along my path to deal with whatever I can along the way… it’d make things far easier…” He lowers his PipBuck as he looks the sprite bot over. “By the way… what do I call you?”

“You can call me Watcher…”

“Watcher, huh?” Gearing asks with a smirk. He smiles wide enough that his eyes close before he says, “You know what, call me ‘Fixer,’ and thank you for your patronage…”

* * *

Breaker Bar pulls back the cloth curtain partition that is currently surrounding the bed Pile Driver is laid out on. He steps up to the bed and partially closes the curtain back, separating it from the rest of the storage container turned medical clinic as he asks, “How ya feeln’, buck?”

Pile Driver opens an eye and looks over at him. He closes it back and grins as he says, “Awww shiiiit… If you’re here, than either I’m in hell… Or I’m still kickn’… you tell me.”

Breaker Bar gives a snort and looks around as he says softly, “Well… I know I ain’t dead yet, so that limits your options, don’t it?”

Pile Driver snickers then opens his eye again and sees the look on Breaker Bar’s face. He closes his eye again as he lets out a snort. “I’m fine old timer. Just feeling a bit tired…” He reaches up a hoof and gently rubs the bare patch of skin where the fur had been completely burnt off then magically healed. “And a bitch itchy where that crazy bastard took a hot knife to me…”

Breaker Bar nods and sits down next to the bed as he gently reaches up and starts rubbing on Pile Driver’s foreleg. “Yeah… But according to the doc, that crazy bastard saved your life…” He shrugs lightly. “Bullet nicked the artery… Blood loss is why you’re so tired.” He pats Pile Driver’s foreleg a few times as he brings his gaze up to meet his eyes. He reaches over and ruffles Pile Driver’s mane. “Doc said the treatment took care of the damage and you should be fine after a couple days rest. You’re out of the worst of it.”

Pile Driver follows Breaker Bar’s hoof from the top of his own head up to Breaker’s eyes. “I’m not a foal anymore, Pops. I’m a grown ass stallion.”

Breaker Bar leans in and scowls. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re older than Celestia and Luna combined, you’re still my buck, and will always be my son.”

Pile Driver chuckles. “Well, of course… That’s where I get the stubbornness from, obviously.”

“That’s your mother’s side showing. That’s what that is.”

“She’d have to be, to put up with your sorry ass.”

“Both of our asses, really,” Breaker Bar says with a chuckle.

“Yeah.” Pile Driver lets out a groan as he stretches out and looks up at the ceiling before sighing softly, “I miss her too, Pop.”

Breaker Bar reaches over and rubs Pile Driver on the chest gently before giving it a pat and saying with a sigh, “Well… don’t be in no hurry for the family reunion. Plenty of time for that later.”

Pile Driver chuckles and rubs a hoof through his black mane. “Not planning on it… But I’m definitely going to go deal with these fuckers.” He shakes his head. “Shoulda done it when they pulled that shit on the second night. Was only a matter of time before they got bold, or lucky.”

“Hey, what’s all the hubbub, bub?” They both turn their focus and see Gearing poking his hood covered head around the curtain. He grins at them and asks, “This a private affair or you charging admission here too?”

Pile Driver chuckles and shakes on the bed a bit as he beckons him in. “Nah, I’m off duty, come on in.” He looks him over as he’s walking in and asks, “So, who are you and what do ya want? If you’re wanting to report something, I’m off duty. Go to the guard shack.”

“Just checking on my hoof work.” Gearing walks in more, and throws back the cloth that’s over his head as he grins. “Was pretty sure it’d work, but should and do are two different things.”

Pile Driver looks him over, taking note of the large mottled gray and black thick cloak, that at one point was probably a blanket, and the bulges at his sides that indicate some rather heavily laden saddle bags. Then his eyes settle on Gearing’s bright brushed copper eyes, and his own jump to their fullest as his hoof instinctively jumps to the location of his bullet wound. “It’s you!”

Gearing nods and waves with a hoof towards him. “Yup. Sorry for the rough treatment. Neither of us had a lot of time… You needed to not bleed to death, and I needed to get to tracking as soon as I could.”

Pile Driver gives a chuckle then waves towards him. “Hey. No offense taken… Although, I got to ask… why’ve I never seen you in the ring?” He notices the raised eyebrow glance from Breaker Bar and points at Gearing as he explains, “The buck picked me up and practically threw me without so much as a grunt of effort. If he could handle me like that, he’d probably win the Crater Tourney.”

Gearing shakes his head. “I only fight when I need to. With purpose. Not interested in posturing nonsense. That’s Swift’s mindset.”

Pile Driver’s eyes go wide at her name, as he makes the connection and it fully dawns on him who this is. He looks Gearing over again then asks softly, “What the hell’d you do to yourself? Get blown up? I can smell the residue?”

Gearing waves a hoof and says dismissively, “Naaaah. Just got a little annoyed of being so easily spotted.”

“…So easily recognizable,” Breaker Bar says softly as he looks him over. Gearing locks eyes with him for a moment before giving the comment a shrug.

Pile Driver smirks and shakes his head. “Well, you wanna come along with me in a couple days? Those assholes have gone and fucked up. Now I’m pissed. Going to go take them out.”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he lets out a long sigh, “Weeeelll…”

Pile Driver waves it away with a hoof. “Nah. I get it. Don’t worry. I won’t think any less of you. It’s a job for the guards. Just figured with your muscle you’d be good in a fight.”

Gearing taps on his muzzle as he thinks it over. “No, it’s not that…Gee… how do I put this…?” He looks sideways at Pile Driver and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Remember when I said raider nests were great for filling the saddle bags?” Pile Driver nods and raises an eyebrow. Gearing gives a sheepish smile and says, “Hate to beat you to the punch line but…” He lifts both of his wings, lifting the improvised cloak up and off of himself at the same time.

Without the cloak over him it’s plain to see the reasons for the bulges. Both sets of saddlebags are crammed full of various salvage, mostly equipment, and look like they may be on the verge of ripping. A few smaller cloth bags are tied onto the side of them, and hang down, with a couple rifles and lengthier weapons bundled up to the side for transport.

Pile Driver starts laughing loudly, hard enough that he’s bouncing on the bed, and every now and then lets out an ‘ow’ as the act of laughing so hard actually hurts. “Well, I guess you weren’t lying about it, were you!”

Breaker Bar flops down on his rear as he laughs hard. He holds his sides for a moment as he looks at his son, and it’s hard to stop laughing when they both are so deep in giggle fits. He looks at Gearing and chuckles, “Fixer strikes again!”

Pile Driver stops laughing instantly and his eyes go wide as he puts it together. “Wait… You’re-“

Breaker Bar puts a hoof over Pile Driver’s muzzle and leans towards him as he snickers, “Yeah… and he’d like to keep that little tidbit under his hat as long as he can.” He raises an eyebrow and glances over at Gearing before he comments, “It’s probably the reason for the new paint job.”

Pile Driver pushes Breaker Bar’s hoof away and asks with a hushed hiss, “Iron Hoof and Fixer are out and about? Together?! Sweet Celestia, that’s an eight hooved wrecking crew!”

Gearing shrugs. “I’d prefer the narrative to be more like Iron Hoof and Company.”

Breaker Bar shrugs, “Easy enough to pull off with how social she is.”

Pile Driver grins and nods as he comments, “And it doesn’t hurt that she’s a damn looker too.” He notices the scowl from Breaker Bar and rolls his eyes. “Hey, I’m not blind, and I’m just saying!” He waves it off. “It’s just a fact of life that’s as plain to see as the clouds in the sky… I’m huge. He could probably bench press a wagon.” He points at Gearing. “And Iron Hoof’s fucking gorgeous.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and sighs. “And she’s married too, so don’t get any ideas, or she’ll knock your block off for real. She’s dedicated like that.”

Pile Driver waves it off dismissively. “Nah. Only thing I’d want to get from her is a good sparring match. Not really my type, but has earned my respect as a fighter regardless.”

Gearing nods then turns to leave as he says, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I got a few more things I wanna get done before morning.”

Pile Driver laughs then shakes his head as he asks with an eye partially closed, “Do you ever sleep?”

Gearing looks over at him for a moment before giving a slight shrug of his shoulder and snickering. “Sometimes…” Which just makes Pile Driver laugh louder, so Gearing continues on out.

“Hey, Fixer,” Breaker Bar calls after him quietly.

Gearing frowns and rolls his eyes before turning around and looking at him around the curtain. “Yeah?”

Breaker Bar dips his head low and says softly, “Thanks for saving my boy’s life.”

Gearing looks him over then sees the look of shock on Pile Driver’s face as he stares at Breaker Bar bowing. Gearing waves it away with a hoof as he says, “Yeah, no problem.” Then starts walking away as he says with a grin, “What are friends for?”

Breaker Bar hops up to his fullest height and grins widely before turning and looking at Pile Driver. “Hey, hurry up and get me some grandfoals. I wanna tell them I’m friends with Fixer.”

Pile Driver raises an eyebrow. “You’re too old to be getting excited about somepony saying they’re your friend.”

Breaker Bar ruffles Pile Drivers mane. “Awwww is somepony jealous that they don’t have a famous frieeeeeend?”

Footnote: Error detected: ‘Hydra matrix’ system corrupted, please stand by. . .

Running Recovery Protocols: Purging ‘Hydra Matrix’ system, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter starts a bit of escalation with a few conflicts, while giving a few more peeks into certain aspects of the story. It also features the first appearance of everyone's favorite dragon computer hacker. Though, because of differences in backgrounds and situations, doesn't really go as many would expect.

Gearing's reasons for his apparent hostility and abrasiveness will become better understood later. Much later, admittedly, but all in good time. He alluded to a bit of it during the conversation though.

The next few chapters we're rather rough from a pacing and technical standpoint. But I think they'll be fine for release. On time.

I'd like to thank my beta readers and helpers who've given me input along the way and have helped make this story what it is. You all are awesome!

Comments, questions, and critiques welcome as always.

-Quillsy

33 Deep Impacts

Gauge rolls over and starts picking himself up as he shakes his head. He looks up at the massive crater in the building across the street and lets out a long low moan, “Ooooh nooooo…” He darts his eyes around and finally they settle on Sable. Who’s currently sitting on the roof, not far away from him, staring blankly at the crater where the skywagon had once been. “Sable?” he asks weakly.

She lowers her head and looks at the cement at her forehooves as her eyes dart around. But, she gives no response.

“Sable? You okay?” He looks around. “We gotta go, mmkay?”

Sable gets up and starts walking around in a circular pattern, grabbing various items that had dumped out of the skywagon when Gearing inverted it, and starts collecting them into a single pile. Silently.

Gauge pulls himself up and trots after her as he asks, “Sable, talk to me, please. Mmmkay. You’re damaged. Do you need me to help you?” He sits down and watches her walk around him in a circle picking up various odds and ends with her cables before returning them to the cache she is building. He lets out a sigh and waves a hoof towards her. “I might not be as good as Gearing. But I know how to fix things, mmkay?”

Still she says nothing.

He looks around for some form of direction, and then just sits there dejectedly as he stares at his hooves and asks quietly, “There anything I can do to help?”

“Subject Gauge…”

His head jumps up to look at her, and sees her pause, but not actually look at him. “Yes, Sable?”

“Thank you for your concern for my welfare… my darling Gearing will appreciate it… when he returns.” She looks over at him and gives the slightest hint of a smile. “My internal repair systems are functioning, but they are not as… robust… as official models. It will take some time for me to be fully functional again.” She looks around at the roof and adds, “If you could help me acquire some small pieces of metal, quality is of no concern, that will help speed up the process.”

Gauge hops to his hooves and starts nodding rapidly as he looks around. “Sure!” He starts walking off towards where they’d come from as he adds, “Scrap shouldn’t be hard to find with that explosion!”

“Subject Gauge…”

Gauge stops in his tracks. Cringing for a moment and thinking about the stupid thing he’d just said, then turns to look back at her over his shoulder. He notices she’s not actually looking at him. So he asks, “Yes?”

“Stay away from the edge of the building…” She looks over at him and nods. “There are many hostiles in the area, but this building is high enough to provide us effective cover from lower levels. If you stray too close to the edge, they may be able to hit you with weapon’s fire.”

He nods and smiles a bit. “Thanks, Sable. I’ll keep that in mind, mmkay?” And he starts snooping around the roof, grabbing every fragment of metal he can find, along with helping secure the items that had been dumped out of the wagon. After a few minutes of this productive salvage, he comes across the blood stain and pink ash pile that represent where two attackers met their end. He grabs the minigun that’d been dropped, and starts carefully toting it back towards the center of the roof.

He sits down and pants a bit as he taps on it with a forehoof. “Sable, think you can use this?”

Sable looks at it, then immediately comes over to examine it. She lifts it up with a trio of cables, one supporting the back, one on the forward frame brace, and one wrapping around to rev the motor and trigger. She checks it from a variety of angles then nods. “Yes, Subject Gauge, I believe I can.” She heads back over to where she saw him bring it back from, locates the corpse of the buck that had been using it to shoot them up so much, and begins removing all of his equipment. After stowing the extra ammo in her own saddle bags, she picks the buck up by the hind leg and holds him aloft by a cable.

He dangles there, motionless, and looking like he was the trophy as today’s biggest catch.

She looks him over carefully and says, “You hurt my darling Gearing…” Then she whips the cable around and flicks the buck up and over the edge of the building’s roof. As gravity starts taking over, and his body starts falling, Sable revs up the minigun and dumps a few bursts into him before he hits the ground. She stares at him the entire way, until the body, now even more bloody and riddled with holes, impacts the ground.

Causing the buck’s head to explode like a dropped paint can all over the concrete.

She turns around and begins walking away as she says flatly, “Terminated hostile confirmed.” She only gets a few steps away before she hears a commotion behind herself. At ground level. She walks back to the edge and looks over, entirely ignoring her own advice to Gauge not long ago.

And her warning proved to be right.

Many bullets come up at her, both impacting the ledge near where she is standing and whizzing by around her head. A couple even bounce and ricochet off her head and helmet as she stares down at the assembled group that’d come to check on the weapons fire sound and had found the body.

Sable responds in kind.

She brings the minigun over, and begins unleashing a swarm of hot lead in their direction, causing them all to jump behind a pile of bricks and a brick wall. A few pop out to take pot shots at her, but most are hiding and waiting. Taking their time. As Sable squeezes off burst after burst in their direction.

She grabs one of the small metal boxes nearby with a cable, and chucks it up and in an arc without looking, as she keeps spraying the general area the attackers are hiding behind.

Gauge jumps after it, but slides to the ground and holds his hooves over his head as he cries out in dismay, “What are you doing?! Throw rocks instead! Mmmkay?! That was a limited edition Stable-Tec lunchbox! Why would you do that?!”

A moment later the revving minigun makes a clicking sound, as it goes empty, and she starts reloading a new box of ammunition.

Which was exactly what the group down below was apparently waiting for, as they start jumping out and begin firing their own volley up at her. Or, they would have. If the first individual to pop out hadn’t caught a laser to the chest and went blowing in the wind like so much Equestrian Wasteland dust.

As the others huddle back in their defensive position, making plans for scattering and pulling back so they could come around from a different angle, the entire group is enveloped in an orange fireball. The explosion that detonates in their midst is so powerful, that pieces of rock and pony even make it up to Sable’s level. To tink off of Sable’s armor and majorly disturb Gauge.

Gauge rolls around holding his ears as he screams, “What was that, mmkay?!”

Sable slowly scans the lower area, taking note that even the wall they had been hiding behind has been blasted away and toppled over. “Gearing has improvised many ‘equalizers’ as he refers to them. Although, I must admit, I had expected that one to detonate while I was keeping them pinned.” She looks over at Gauge and tilts her head. “Maybe there was a short in the timer? Or it had become damaged in the fall? Or, perhaps, my darling Gearing intended on that one to have a longer fuse…” She looks down at the devastation and nods. “It would make sense given its destructive potential.” She turns around and starts back towards the center of the roof. “I will have to inquire with Gearing about that when he returns.”

Gauge watches her walk away then slowly gets up as he hangs and shakes his head. He starts following her, picking up a few pieces of scattered metal and a few rogue tools before he limps his way over to the pile of supplies in the middle of the roof. He starts organizing it a bit, setting a pile of fragments of metal to the side that Sable might be able to use as he slowly puts the other items back into bags they had spilled out of.

“Subject Gauge.”

Gauge starts to turn his head to look at her, but stops as he sees a small bottle held aloft in front of him.

“You have sustained many lacerations from the impact. Please consume this healing potion. The damage and loss of such wide patches of your hide will leave you vulnerable to infection and premature termination.” She rattles the bottle a bit then asks, “Do you need assistance administering treatment?”

Gauge takes the bottle and pops the cork as he says with a wince, “No, thank you, mmkay.” With the adrenalin of the flight, fall, and fighting wearing off he’s really starting to feel the various cuts on his body. Though the areas where the fur had been completely ground off by sliding across the concrete roof at high speed stings the most. He carefully sips on the potion, looking around nervously as he tries to figure out what he can do.

And, given his constitution with such situations, his rear end musically serenades the wasteland with whistles, squeaks, and rumbling drum rolls. But, the only nose he can offend within toot range is his own at the moment.

Sable walks away, minigun still held aloft, as she says, “My darling Gearing won’t mind you drinking one of his potions. He cares about all ponies, after all.” She looks back at him and gives a wide smile. “We can leave once he returns.”

As Gauge is finishing his slow nursing of the healing potion, a blur of movement catches his attention from the corner of his eye. He falls down flat to the concrete roof expecting an incoming attack.

Swift, carrying a heavily bleeding Nahlah, lands nearby. “Nahlah’s hurt!” As she looks around with her head zipping back and forth repeatedly, she asks breathlessly, “Where’s Handy?”

Sable sets down the minigun and walks over as quickly as she can, extending out her cables and pointing off towards the other side of the building. “Like Nahlah, Subject Handy Hooves’ momentum was too great to stay on the roof.”

Swift’s focus jumps to the direction Sable is pointing. She notices, quite clearly, the metallic gouges, and streaks of blood, that leads straight to the opposite side of the building. And her mouth drops as she sees the trail lead right over the other edge of the roof.

Sable shakes Swift’s shoulder with a cable as she’s stepping closer and keeps pointing off towards the trail. “Go to him. Have no fear, Subject Swift, I will tend to Nahlah.”

Swift spares Nahalah one last quick glance before charging towards the edge of the building. She only takes a few bounding steps before taking flight and flying low along the building’s roof. As she reaches the edge she drops her focus to look straight down, hoping not to see her husband in a crumpled heap on ground level. But, she quickly does a double take as she looks across at the brick wall of the building across the alleyway. Very clearly visible is a smattering of fresh blood, and below that, on the fire escape, is another couple spots of blood.

This, combined with the complete lack of any sign of Handy down at street level, gives her far more hope than she had a few seconds ago.

She hovers around the fire escape, looking it over carefully as she quickly goes into tracking mode in her mind. Tracking an oversized swine, or tracking a silly stallion, the basics are the same. Follow the trail.

She flutters down and lands on the fire escape, a level below where she’s pretty sure Handy had landed. On this level, a window had been boarded up with a combination of wood and metal at one time. At one time, because currently the metal and wood both have been bashed in and the window is, for the most part, open. The breaks in the sheet metal, with some parts actually having no rust, give her clues that this is very recent.

If that wasn’t enough, she can see a bit of a blood smear on the window frame that, again, lets her know he’d gone this way.

She eases through the hole, careful of the sharp jagged parts of the sheet metal, and continues inside. She pauses inside for a few moments, letting her night vision adjust to the even dimmer interior lighting, as her ears twitch around.

It’s hard for her to focus on anything in particular as the sounds of sporadic gunfire and yelling continues to echo throughout the entire complex. It’s been a constant din since they dropped low enough that this whole mess had started. Although, given its fierceness, she’s quite certain that their group isn’t the only one involved in the fighting in this area. It’s too spread out. Too continuous. Which just begs the question if the ones they are fighting are friends or foe.

She elects, and vows, not to be too eager to find out the answer to that exact question.

She continues through the building, careful of the various debris and falling parts of the office structure long since turned derelict. But, it’s not just a sense of abandonment that’s caused the destruction to the building. There are various signs of conflict everywhere. Long since dried blackish brown blood streaks. Bullet impacts. Scorch marks, very localized and that didn’t spread far, from either an incendiary weapon or small explosion. And, various spent ammo casings. They all give testimony to a practical war fought inside the building.

Her first sign of any recent activity, while following the trail, is a dead buck half hanging out of an office door. While he’d once been white, or practically white, he’s now very decidedly a shade of pink. As all of his fur has been dyed with his own blood. The spent ammo cases around him show that he went down with a fight. But he went down. And hard. His SMG lays nearby destroyed. Smashed and crushed into practical scrap. With the barrel, as short as it was, amazingly bent up and almost into a ninety degree angle while crumpling in on itself at the same time. The bucks mouth, split wide to the point that she wonders if the jaw could even close under its own power, as the manic grin peeks out behind the ruptured flesh.

Looking the buck over she guesses the SMG had been hit with such force from the front, that it shoved the grip back and into the buck’s mouth. Splitting both cheeks wide open as the weapon was practically shoved down the user’s throat. A follow up set of strikes had put an end to him, with cruel crushing and overwhelming force. Causing the chest to implode and cave in on itself.

She sifts through the belongings that had already been scavenged through and notices the various sputters of blood. Swift realizes that the buck was probably still alive while his property was pilfered from his saddle bags. But, whoever it was, wasn’t interested in the spare ammo, or a few other potential items of value. Her eyes trail around, and she finds an empty healing potion bottle nearby.

Still wet on the inside from its recent use as the residue slowly collects in the lower end of the bulb.

Likewise having no use for the ammo, and having bigger worries at the moment, she picks up pace and continues heading through the building as she tries to follow the trail and leaves the rest for some other scavenger. Though, now there’s no real blood smears. But she does find a trail to follow.

One of death and destruction.

Every so often she finds another pony, or group of ponies, all of them dead from overwhelming blunt force trauma. One had her head caved in, from behind, and driven straight into the floor. Another had her head knocked through a wall from a sideways blow. The only thing keeping the body aloft is the fact the neck is bent over the broken wood and plaster like a weird shepherd’s hook.

Each time the victim’s had their belongings hastily gone through before the victor of the fight had moved on to their next pit stop.

Each time the damage and blood is fresh. Barely starting to dry. And the bodies are still warm.

In several instances she flutters over certain piles or areas of debris to avoid making noise as she advances as quickly, but quietly, as she can. She wants to find Handy. But they, quite obviously, are not the only ones in the building. And, even together, they’re outnumbered.

As she’s coming down the stairs to the fourth floor she hears a commotion downstairs. A variety of screaming from a couple of mares mixed in with unintelligible grunts and debris getting kicked up and thrown around.

She flutters down the hallways towards the sound and, when she’s only a couple yards from the door to where she’s sure the fighting is taking place, a yellow unicorn comes tumbling out of the room and skids to a halt just beyond the door frame as she screams in pain.

The yellow mare starts picking herself up with a wince as she’s facing away from the door she came out of. As she’s pushing herself up by her forehooves, a large blur comes arcing out from the door towards the middle of her back.

It impacts dead center with a loud Ka-ta-TSSHHH as the pneumatic mechanisms fire upon impact.

The yellow mare’s eyes bug out as her chest suddenly arcs upwards and back, while the rest of her body arcs downwards as her spine is completely severed, making her practically fold backwards upon herself. Her blood curdling scream is only cut off by the second swing, which arcs around in a wide circle, perpendicular to her, and then comes straight back down again. Driving her head into the concrete floor and finishing her as her bloody attacker finally steps into the hallway.

Handy, armor dented and full of various holes from many bullet impacts, zips his focus from the mare on the floor in front of himself, over to Swift. He already had a smile on his face, despite the grip on the over side pneumatic sledgehammer. Upon seeing her, his grin explodes even wider across his muzzle. He twirls the sledge hammer in his forehooves, spinning it around in them, using his muzzle here and there as he says quickly, “Swift! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He twirls the hammer a bit more and practically giggles, “Gimmie a sec.” He brings the hammer back down, completely caving in their head and sending the red chunks everywhere.

He leaves the sledge embedded into the concrete floor, and what was left of the mare’s head, as he looks over at Swift again. “They just don’t like to stay down!” He sits back and gives her an even larger grin as he holds his forehooves wide apart. “Come’er and gimmie a hug! Damn you’ve had me worried!”

Swift looks him over, and lets out a sigh of relief. But then lets out another sigh as she doesn’t share the smile on his face. But, a split second after the request, she snaps her wings and heads straight for him.

He, somehow, smiles even wider as she heads towards him. But then, his eyes bug out and he gets a look of confusion on his face, while still grinning, as she uses her right forehoof to shove him sideways, and actually flies past him.

He flops over like a felled tree, and rolls over in time to see Swift impact into the purple earth pony mare that was behind him.

Swift growls and has an expression of pure malice across her muzzle as she holds the mare to the cinder block wall with her right hoof and strikes her with her left. Power hoof enabled. “Do. Not. Hit. My. Husband!” she bellows as she punctuates each word with another strike of the powerhoof to their body or head.

Swift hops back and to the side, letting the mangled body of the purple mare fall to the floor.

Almost instantly Handy’s hammer comes down and, likewise, crushes the mare’s head. He leaves the sledge head there, again, and leans on the end of the grip with his left foreleg as he holds his head up with his left forehoof and looks at Swift. “Just like old times, huh, Swift?”

Swift lets out a snort of disgust and bobs her head with the action as she looks at the purple mare at her hooves. “Not old enough…”

He reaches over and pats her on the shoulder. “I missed you too, hun.”

“Handy…” Swift says while staring at the bodies.

“Yeah, Swift?” Handy asks while he goes back to propping his head up with his left forehoof.

She brings her gaze up to stare at him as she squats down a bit and tenses up. “How many?”

“How many what?” Handy blinks as he looks around. “Did I kill? No idea, really.” He gives a disinterested shrug of his shoulders as he continues grinning at her.

She gives only the slightest shake of her head. “You know what I mean… How many did you take?!”

Handy rubs his nose with the back of his hoof as he regards her. He pulls the forehoof back, examines it, and then uses it to scrape off a bit of gore from the end of his muzzle as he shrugs. “What?”

She jumps over and gets practically muzzle to muzzle with him as she points off towards the mare in the hallway. “Buck! How many did you take?” Handy’s grin turns a bit crooked and she puts the same hoof in his face. “And don’t lie to me! I know that look in your eyes!”

He lets out a long slow sigh and his shoulders slump a bit.

Swift rears up on her hindlegs, puts her forehooves on his chest, and starts poking and pushing and shoving Handy back, until he flops down on his rear and she pushes him against the wall. “Dammit, Handy! You promised you wouldn’t take that shit anymore!” She points off towards the mangled body in the hallway, “This isn’t you!” She pushes him with a hoof again. “So?” She pushes him a couple more times. “How many?” She alternates pushing his shoulders, one hoof on each, as she practically shakes him. “How many did you take?!”

Handy rolls his eyes then hangs his head as he looks around at the ground. “I don’t know, alright?!” He looks up and scowls. “And, don’t blame me for this! I got thrown out of that flying death trap by that fucking machine!” He points with a forehoof off to the side towards where they’d come in at. “I got thrown into a fucking brick building and dropped like two stories, I kind of needed it!”

She rolls her eyes with her entire head. “You always say that…” She taps on his chest a few times. “Where’d you even get them at? Megamac? Did you sneak off and buy some while I wasn’t looking?”

Handy lets out a deep sigh then says softer, “Nooo.” He lowers his head and looks off to the side as he waves back and forth between the two dead mares near their hooves. “This whole gang’s some kind of drug fiends. I really needed some healing potions, so I went looking through their packs…”

“And you found the Buck and figured ‘Why not’, right?” Swift demands.

Handy shrugs and doesn’t look her in the eye. “More like, ‘One healing potion isn’t enough but some Buck will get me through’…”

“Mmmhmm”, Swift says as she narrows her eyes. She taps him on the chest a few more times then points at his PipBuck. “Let me see your PipBuck.”

He looks away from her, and lifts his foreleg so she can examine his PipBuck.

She quickly pulls up the item sorter. Looks for, and finds, a supply of Buck, and selects it. She quickly reaches into his bag, and pulls out not one, but four bottles of Buck. She looks between them then says in a low hissed voice, “Handy!”

He closes his eyes tightly and says softly, “I know… I know…”

She quickly stows them in her own bag as she quips, “Of course you know!” She pulls out a cloth and starts wiping his face down, already seeing the sweat and other signs of the drug wearing off. She quickly cleans his muzzle of the various grime, blood, and gore that the past short period of violence has painted his face with.

He lets out a sigh as she cleans him off. “Just see each other, and that’s the first thing you say? Then you start cleaning me like a foal?”

Swift shakes her head a bit. “Priorities, Handy.”

“Mmhmm ‘priorities’ huh? That involve jumping my shit foAGGH-“

Handy gets cut off, mid snippy quip, as Swift jumps forward and slams him into the wall behind him. She punches the wall next to him hard enough that the powerhoof partially lodges itself there. Using the improvised wall anchor, she grabs his muzzle with her wings, and holds his head there with her other hoof as she quickly digs into a deep kiss to painful levels. She keeps pressing him into the wall as she rapidly kisses and wraps her tongue around his while getting as flush to him as possible.

After a few moments of this vicious assault, she pulls back and hugs him as she hangs her head over his shoulder and lets out a long groan, “Dammit, Handy… I thought you died on me.”

Handy goes from: upset, to surprised, to confused, to absolutely ecstatic in the time it takes him to blink. As she switches to more of a loving nuzzle action against him, Handy says with a chuckle, “Not likely. I’m a lot tougher than you’re giving me credit for. Neither of us are pushovers.” He wraps his forehooves around her, and pulls her in as he grins. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much… my little hellraiser.” She giggles and pulls back to look him in the eye, then closes her eyes and accepts the tender kiss he gifts her with.

She pulls back, lets out a sigh, and taps him on the nose. “I’m still disappointed in you for using Buck again though.” She pulls into another hug and lets out a sigh. “But I’m happy enough that you’re alive, that I might just be willing to forget this happened… if it’s really an isolated incident.” She lets out a long, frustrated, sigh. “You’ve been doing so well…”

Handy, deciding to try and divert attention from himself as quickly as possible, asks, “Where’s everypony else?” He looks around. “I don’t see them. Anyone else make it?”

Swift points behind herself. “They’re on the roof next door.”

Handy smirks. “You mean my dumbass was the only one that decided falling off the building was a good idea?”

Swift shakes her head. “Nahlah fell too, but I managed to catch her. Before she hit the ground…”

Handy, for once, has enough foresight to not question why she’d gone after Nahlah instead of himself.

She gives him a kiss on the cheek then nods towards the way back. “Come on; let’s get back to our friends.”

Handy looks back and forth then points down. “We could just go down, then over and up?”

Swift looks at him sideways and smirks. “Oooor I could just fly us over to the next roof?”

Handy looks around and gives a light snort before he says softly, “I think I’ve had enough of flying for today… for the year really…”

Swift giggles and shakes her head before leaning over and kissing him on his cheek. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you. I’m stronger than I look.”

Handy grins as he follows her down the hallway, grabbing his custom hammer along the way. “Just another reason I love ya.”

* * *

As Sable is slowly feeding a potion to Nahlah, Swift returns with Handy dangling in tow. Swift sets Handy down gently, then lands next to Sable and Nahlah as she looks Nahlah over.

Nahlah, while still smeared and caked with her own blood, is in far better shape than when Swift had left her to track down Handy. Sable had managed to pick out the pieces of glass and metal that were imbedded in Nahlah’s flesh from where she’d fought to hold onto the building the whole way down, until Swift managed to catch her. The gash that had taken up from shoulder to hip on her right side has entirely closed up as the potion has worked wonders to mend her. Leaving only a bloody part in her fur to show where it had been.

Swift reaches out and gently rubs Nahlah’s shoulder. “How you doing?”

Nahlah opens an eye and looks at her before grinning. “Pretty good now that the Med-X has kicked in and Sable’s helped me out of my pin cushion costume.” She turns her head towards Swift and asks, “Did you find Handy?” Swift nods. “How is he?”

“I’m fine, like ya needed to ask,” Handy says with a huff as he looks around at the rooftop, earning a grin from Nahlah as she lies back down. Handy’s head turns around, and he spins in a circle before he sits down and throws his forehooves up in the air. “Where the hell is Gearing anyway? He throw a fit, fly off, and leave us here?”

Sable shakes her head as she tends to Nahlah, and strategically keeps her back to the devastated office building across the street. “My darling Gearing will be back shortly.” She nods with a hard affirmative for emphasis. “Just have to wait here and guard the supplies until he returns.” She bobs her head around a bit as she keeps looking over Nahlah.

“Well that’s just fucking great, having us play the sit and spin game while he’s off wherever…” Handy grumbles as he folds his forelegs in front of his chest.

A collection of unconvincing throat clearing and poorly acted coughs draw all of their attentions. Except Sable’s. Even Nahlah lifts her head to look over at Gauge as he does a horrible job of trying to covertly garner their attention. After they are all looking at him, Gauge shakes his head lightly with a frown, before pointing his forehoof across the street at the crater in the side of the office building.

Swift’s jaw drops and she asks as she puts a hoof to her mouth, like she’s trying to manually keep the words from spilling out, “You mean he was still…?”

Gauge locks eyes with her then gives a weak nod.

Nahlah’s focus zips back and forth between the two and her jaw drops as she starts sitting up. She turns to look at Sable who backs up from her and sits down as they lock eyes with each other. Nahlah crawls over and wraps her paws around Sable’s shoulders as she says softly, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry…”

Sable doesn’t move from her position. And does nothing to neither discourage nor encourage Nahlah’s affections. “No. My darling Gearing will be back soon. I just must sit here, and guard his belongings, until he does.” She nods hard as she keeps her focus off on the horizon. In the opposite direction of the office building.

Handy looks back and forth as his forelegs droop down off his chest. “Well…” He looks over at the blast crater and says softly, “Shit.” He looks over at Swift and shrugs as he asks, “What are we going to do now? We can’t just stay up here.”

Sable shakes her head then bobs it around as she says, “My darling Gearing will be back soon. I will wait until he returns.”

Swift walks closer to her and sits down in front of her, blocking Sable’s view of the horizon as she says softly, “Do you want us to take you back to 68?”

Sable shakes her head. “No thank you, Subject Swift. My darling Gearing will be back soon. I must watch his belongings until he returns.” She nods her head with a strong emphasis as she ends.

Handy runs his forehoof through his mane as he grumbles. He looks over at Swift and motions with his head towards the fire escape across the alley. “Come on, Swift. Let’s get out of here… Gauge… Nahlah… Let’s get off this roof and down to ground where it’s safer.”

Swift looks over at him and frowns as she thinks the situation over.

Nahlah looks at Swift for a moment, tilting her head before looking back and forth between her and Handy repeatedly. “You’re…. you’re not really going to just leave her here, are you?”

Handy waves his hoof towards Sable and says with a roll of his eyes. “If the protectapony wants to just sit there till she rusts to dust, there’s no changing its mind by arguing.” He gives a shrug of his shoulders and says flatly, “Gearing obviously put some kind of sentinel setting to have her watch his equipment when he’s not around.”

Sable shakes her head. “No. My darling Gearing did not ask me to watch his belongings. Though, if asked, I certainly would.” She nods hard. “But my darling Gearing will be back soon. I just need to sit here until he returns.”

Nahlah looks at Swift and her ears lay down as she says softly, “Swift, please, we can’t just leave her here alone like this…”

“We certainly can,” Handy quips with a huff.

Sable shakes her head. “That is not necessary, Subject Nahlah. I will be fine. I will wait here until my darling Gearing returns. You may leave if you wish. But I must remain here.”

“She’s like a broken record…” Gauge mutters as he keeps looking at Sable.

Nahlah pulls in tighter to Sable and looks at Swift. “I’m not leaving her, Swift.” She nods over towards Handy. “Go ahead and go if you have to… but I just don’t have it in me to do that to her.”

Sable shakes her head then bobs it as she says, “I will be fine, Subject Nahlah. My darling Gearing will be back soon. Then we will go.”

Swift looks at Nahlah and leans in as she asks quietly, “Are you sure about this?” Nahlah gives a strong nod as she stares back. Swift looks up at Handy and asks, “Could we… I don’t know… wait a while first?”

Handy shakes his head as he walks around next to Swift and looks at Sable. “For fuck’s sake… quit beating around the bush, we don’t have time for this.” He waves his forehooves around. “We have a gang of automatic gun-wielding drug-fiendish ponies all around us. And all of you are coddling a protectapony that doesn’t want to leave because another one has been destroyed. Are you two kidding me right now?!”

Sable shakes her head. “My darling Gearing will be-“

Handy leans in and screams at her as he cuts her off, “‘Back soon’!? No! He won’t! Gearing is dead!” He hops up and points both forehooves at the crater across the street. “Nopony could have survived that explosion. Protectapony or not.” He keeps pointing back at the building as he screams. “Look! Look at it! He’s dead!”

Sable’s head shakes sporadically as she tries to shake ‘no’ but random hitches interrupt the smooth movement. “No. My Ka-Ka-Ka-Ka-earing will be back soon. I- I just have to stay here until his return.”

They all stare at her for a moment and Gauge asks, “Did she just say ‘Kearing’?”

“Sounded like “Kah’earing to me,” Nahlah says as she looks at Sable with a raised eyebrow.

Swift looks back and forth then over at Handy as she motions towards Sable with a hoof. “What was that about?”

Handy grumbles then waves at Sable. “She’s obviously damaged. Fall probably did some damage to her internal components and messing up her logic sectors.”

Sable shakes her head. “Damage was limited to extremities and external chassis plating. There was no damage to internal logic components.”

Handy rolls his eyes as he flicks a hoof out at Sable. “Of course she’d say something like that…” He thinks about it for a few moments as he runs a hoof through his mane. A smile creeps across his muzzle as he thinks of a way out of the sticky situation. “Sable.” She turns her head to look at him and he starts pulling out some tools from his bag. “You’ve been damaged. I’ll fix you up.”

Sable shakes her head. “No. My repair systems are fully functional and I am almost at peak functionality again.” She holds up her right foreleg and shows how it’s not only completely straightened out, but the holes are mostly filled in. The holes that haven’t been filled in yet are covered in a metallic honeycomb shaped lattice that continuously fills in and becomes more solid.

Handy rolls his eyes and starts towards her. “You’re logic systems have obviously been damaged. I’ll get them fixed then we can figure out how bad the rest of you is. Then, we can go.”

Sable stares at him and directs all focus towards him as she says, “No. If I require any repairs, only my darling Gearing will be doing it when he returns. I do not want anyone else attempting to modify my systems.”

Handy steps up next to her as he pulls out a wrench and starts reaching for her. “Don’t be stubborn. I’ll get you sorted out in a minute.”

Sable’s shoulder mounted laser pops out, and the gem begins to glow as it instantly activates and prepares to fire. “Keep your filthy pony hooves off me!” Sable bellows with a practically growling voice that none of them have heard before.

Gauge’s eyes go wide and he takes a running leap behind the pile of supplies as Swift quickly backs up away from Sable.

Handy drops his collection of tools, raises his forehooves high in the air, and starts backing up as he screams, “Whoa! Stand down!”

Sable glares at him, keeping the laser weapon pointed right at him as she scowls. “You are not going to tamper with me and try to use me as some kind of bargaining chip to manipulate and humiliate my darling Gearing… Again!” She stands up and tilts her head as she asks, “Did you think I had forgotten about that, Head of Maintenance Subject Handy Hooves?”

Nahlah stood up with Sable, and tries to calm her down by stroking her mane and hugging her gently.

Swift looks back and forth quickly as she asks, “What is she talking about, Handy?”

Handy doesn’t reply, and is, understandably, entirely focused on the disintegration weapon pointed directly at him.

Sable shakes her head. “Gearing may have forgiven you for it, though I doubt it, but even so I know I never will! As I already told you, what you did was cruel and mean and you are a bad pony for leaving my darling Gearing waiting trapped in such a painful and humiliating position like you did.” She waves a hoof at him and yells, “I won’t let you use me to hurt him again!” She stomps the hoof a few times as she says, “You’re not allowed to touch me! And if you ever get it in your head to try and be sneaky about it, remember one thing!” She turns the laser focus, just barely, and fires a burst off not too far from his head. “I do not have a combat inhibitor and I will ash you if you ever try and violate me like that again!”

Swift’s eyes had been jumping back and forth and she’d started looking at Handy suspiciously as she’d been wondering what he’d been doing to torment Gearing. And, possibly, if whatever Sable is referring to is the reason for the constant friction between the two. But the laser discharging entirely removed any attention on that train of thought as she sees the very real danger to her husband before her eyes. She waves her forehooves and looks over at Handy. “Handy. Grab your shit, and let’s go.” She looks over at Nahlah and motions over to the edge. “Come on, Nahlah, I’ll give you a lift to the fire escape.”

Nahlah looks at her, then holds onto Sable as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She shakes her head ever so slightly and says softly, “I’m not leaving her, Swift…”

Swift’s eyes turn sad as her shoulders sag. “I… I see…” She steps over closer, gently. Slowly. Hoping not to draw the wrath of Sable.

But Sable is still entirely focused on Handy as he picks up and replaces his dropped tools very slowly.

Swift gives Nahlah a big hug then says in her ear. “If you change your mind, you know how to find us.”

Nahlah nods and nuzzles Swifts cheek with her own. “Yeah. Don’t’ worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Swift walks over, wraps her tail around Handy’s neck, then starts walking over to the edge of the building near the fire escape as she leads him away. “Come on, Handy. Before you get us in any more trouble.”

Gauge pokes his head up from behind the supplies and says, “Actually… I think I’ll stay with them… mmkay?” Handy and Swift look over at him and he points at Sable. “She’s still the best armed, mmkay?”

Swift and Handy look at each other and Handy quickly nods as he says, only a fractionally interested in the conversation, “Suit yourself.” Then Swift grabs Handy and takes flight.

Sable watches them hop up and over the edge of the building, then disappear below the roof’s edge. Her laser deactivates and returns to its compartment as she sits down. “I just need to sit here and wait for my darling Gearing to return to me.”

Nahlah nods a few times and nuzzles Sable’s cheek. “I know, hun…. I know.”

Footnote: -User offline-

Connection lost, attempting to reestablish, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter builds on a few developing situations, and leaves the group a bit scattered. Both physically and socially. But, of course, it's a big wild Equestria Wasteland out there, so there's more going on in the background as they stumble along their way.

Thanks to my beta readers for helping make the story what it is, and to readers and commenters for the added motivation.

As always, comments, questions, and critiques welcome and encouraged!

-Quillsy

34 Solid Construction

After successfully retreating to the relative safety of the office building Swift had found Handy in, the pair follow the same route through the interior. And down. They remain quiet through most of the trip, only whispering to each other here and there as they make steady progress through his previous path of destruction.

When they come to the room of his most recent carnage, Handy points in and comments, “We left before checking their packs. They might have something we can use.”

Swift nods, but quickly hops over and gets in his way of one of them as she points over by the wall. “I’ll take care of checking their bags. You keep watch… Over there.”

Handy lets out a sigh and shakes his head as he obediently complies. He sits down, and starts looking around as he asks, “You not going to trust me with that, now?”

Swift lets out a sigh as she disconnects a bag from the barding of the mare she’d pummeled. “I trust you, Handy.” She looks over at him and smiles lightly. “I love you… but…” She shakes her head. “There’s no reason to tempt fate.”

Handy shrugs and starts looking around in the small office room with just his eyes to see if he can find anything immediately useful. “I guess that’s fair… considering I screwed up… again…”

Swift sorts through the bag and raises an eyebrow. “The pistol you’re carrying…. Is it a 9mm or a 10mm?”

Handy shakes his head as his attention’s focused on a grouping of tilted metal filing cabinets along the back wall. “12.7mm… it’s a Proditor’s Gladius, why?”

Swift holds up a couple long magazines and flicks one over to him with a wing. “Think you can use these?”

Handy catches it with his hooves then spins it around to look at the ammo. “Well the magazine’s useless. It’s for an SMG of some kind. But the ammo looks about right, yeah.” She tosses him a couple more and Handy’s eyes go wide. “You’re kidding!? There’s almost a hundred rounds here!”

Swift chuckles and shrugs. “Well, SMG’s are basically bullet hoses. Those three magazines are probably like… what… six seconds of fire time?”

Handy nods as he starts popping the individual rounds out of the magazines into a pile. “Something like that.”

As she’s sifting through a few items that look more like some form of food wrapped in old world packaging, Swift asks, “So, are you going to tell me what that was all about, Handy?”

Handy chucks the empty magazine out into the hallway and starts on another as he asks, “Which part?”

Swift lets out a sigh and looks over at him. “Handy, she was one hair’s width away from killing you.” She shakes her head. “I mean, she did keep telling you ‘no’, but, even so, that was a massive change… and,” She raises an eyebrow as she says softer, “Not to mention what she’d said.”

Handy shrugs. “Who knows what’s going through the head of a busted machine.”

“Handy…”

“Before Sable was put into that chassis, they were overloading the stable with their fooling around.” He shrugs. “I just had them knock if off while I got the modifications to the chassis complete.” He points a hoof off towards the roof of the next building. “I even gave her one of my protectapony chassis as part of the deal. I don’t see why she’s bitter at all. She has no reason to be. She should be thankful.” He shrugs with his forehooves high in the air at his sides as he shakes his head. “She’s obviously malfunctioning. Not acting or thinking right... No idea what’s gotten into her besides getting dropped at high speed.” He points a hoof at Swift. “I’d say blame Gearing for it… but… well... he’s already paid for his error in judgment.”

He conveniently leaves out the fact that the ‘deal’ that was struck between them wasn’t so much a deal, but an ultimatum he gave Sable. One that left her with no true choice in the matter if she wanted to be with Gearing at all.

Swift looks at Handy blankly then hisses at him, “Handy, he’s dead, that’s cold and too soon!” She points over at him and frowns. “He did what he could. Would you have rather we all been on the wagon when it blew up?”

Handy waves it away and doesn’t look at her. “If he didn’t wreck it, it wouldn’t have blown.” He dismisses the idea with a few limp waves of his forehoof. “Again, his own fault.”

Swift shakes her head and quickly stows the few remaining items from the pair of mares she deems worthy of the carry weight. “Well, let’s get going.”

“Are we still heading towards this tournament and Megamart, or going to just turn around and head back to 68?” Handy asks as he watches her pocket a glass jar that seems to be filled with creamed corn.

Swift looks over at him and lets out a long sigh as she was just wondering the same thing. She shakes her head then replies evenly, “Even with Gearing dead, we still need those components for the stable.” She bobs her head around as she thinks it through and simply reconfirms what she was already feeling. “If the tourney pays well enough we can just outright buy them. We won’t have to go out and hunt around for them elsewhere.” She waves a hoof dismissively. “Pay somepony else for the danger they’d already been through and avoid it ourselves.” She nods and smiles at him. “That way the only dank pit we’ll have to trot around in, is our own 68.”

Handy chuckles as he steps over to the door and starts looking around in the hallway. “Once it’s self sufficient again. We won’t have to leave again. Not for a long time anyway.”

“That was your plan anyway, wasn’t it?” Swift asks as she steps up next to him.

“Till the kids are grown enough at least?” He nods a few times. “Yeah.”

The pair wander around the fourth floor of the office complex as they keep trying to find a way down. Each set of stairs they come to, at least where they think the stairs down are supposed to be, has either collapsed or been completely blocked by debris. The entire time they can hear the fighting and echoes of screams coming from seemingly everywhere around them.

“What’s got them so riled up?” Swift asks as she peeks down the next hall then starts walking down it.

Handy shrugs and shakes his head. “Given the practical pharmacy they all seem to be running around with... I doubt they need an excuse.” He points off towards where they’d come from. “It wouldn’t surprise me if all the fighting is them fighting each other until someone else shows up to fight. They’re all drugged-up nutcases.”

“Then, we’ve got just perfect timing to decide to fly by, huh?” Swift asks with a snort. She’s looking back and forth as they continue quietly down the hallways, trying to minimize their own hoofclops on the grimy tiled floor. She passes a room as she’s looking into it, looking for wayward attackers, but then turns around and looks into it properly after actually passing it. She turns to Handy, who’s likewise turned around to see what had drawn her attention, and asks, “If we can’t go down here, maybe this will let us find a way down over there?”

Handy frowns as he looks at the gap in the side of the building’s wall as he says, “As long as you don’t plan on trying to fly me out. They seem to attack anything they notice, and a flying mare dragging an overloaded buck is sure to count.”

She shakes her head and walks over to the gap as she says softly, “Wasn’t planning on it. Would prefer to have as much between me and their high powered automatics as possible.” She examines the pile of rubble at the base of the gap and notices the very clearly built path that’s been laid out to connect the two buildings. Some form of scaffolding, made of metal pipes, comprises most of the base of the improvised bridge. Almost like a radio tower that has been felled and moved here just for this purpose. On top of that are a combination of sheet metal and multiple layers of rotting planks of wood. All cobbled on to try and make a solid path, but would fail utterly to allow a wheeled vehicle to smoothly traverse it.

Swift peeks over the edge slowly, looking down at ground level, and up at the roof of the adjacent building only a story up. She slowly turns her head as she takes in the view, then pulls back and looks at Handy. “It looks clear, let’s get across before anyone notices.” She nods her head across the improvised bridge.

Handy walks up next to her and looks it over. He leans forward, and looks down the alleyway four stories below him. “You… you sure this is such a great idea?”

Swift shakes her head and snickers. “Well…” She leans over and licks his cheek. After he finishes shaking his head and looking at her, she flutters her wings and nods towards the gap. “Could just fly you over, but that’d still be flying.”

Handy reaches over and starts pushing and prodding the construction. “I’d prefer to keep my hooves on solid ground…” He rears up then puts both forehooves on it as he bounces a bit. “Actually, it’s a lot more solid than it looks.” He hops up onto it the rest of the way and slowly starts walking forward. “Yeah, this’ll work.”

Swift hops up behind him and smacks his flank with a wing. “Well, don’t worry. If you do start to fall, I’ll catch ya.”

Handy looks back at her and grins. “I’ll hold you to that.” He turns and starts crossing slowly as he mutters, “I’ll haunt you if you don’t.” Swift rolls her eyes and nickers before following behind at a close distance.

After making it across safely, Swift steps up next to handy and leans into him sideways as she nuzzles his neck. “See, the big ole scary bridge wasn’t that bad,” she teases.

He frowns and looks at her sideways. “Not all of us were born with wings… and you have even more tricks than just that. So, of course, you wouldn't be worried about it.”

She leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek while looking him in the eye. “Which means you shouldn’t be worried about it either. Not with me around.”

Handy shakes his head, but can’t keep the ghost of a smirk off his muzzle as he heads through the doorway of this room that was once somepony’s office. He peeks out into the hallway through where the door used to be, then slowly heads out and starts down the path to the right. In short order they come to a much wider open area, where a series of catwalks crisscross over the manufacturing area further below.

Swift looks down over the edge at the littered factory floor and asks, “Need me to hold your hoof?” She glances at him sideways with a grin.

He shakes his head and starts across the catwalk at a steady trot. “That outside was cobbled together from scrap. This walkway was made by somepony that knew what the hell they were doing for sure.” He gets a few dozen paces down the catwalk before looking over his shoulder at Swift. “You coming? Or you scared of a little solid construction?”

Swift purses her lips to one side and quickly catches up with him. Then starts passing him as he picks up pace again. “Don’t be silly.”

They get almost a quarter way across before the commotion that had been all over the industrial complex, gets a lot louder. And a lot closer. A large collection of voices spring up from the lower level and their owners start spilling into the factory as they scream.

“Up there!”

“There they are!”

“Get’em!”

“More shooting less talking!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! More lead. More lead. More lead!”

Swift and Handy quickly look over and down, at the growing group of ponies coming into the factory floor, and spilling around the equipment. Their eyes simultaneously bug out as a line of firearms raise and point in their direction. As the muzzle flashes begin to erupt from the ever growing number of weapons, Swift and Handy have already started running full tilt down the catwalk towards the other side.

As bullets whizz by and ricochet off the catwalk they are running across, Swift screams at the top of her lungs, “I hate guns!” She quickly outpaces Handy as she practically flies across the catwalk.

With the fast moving target seemingly being unfairly impossible for them to shoot, and quickly getting away from the group, the shooters start focusing on Handy. And, as is understandable with such a large collection of devotees of the ‘Spray and Pray’ method of weapon’s discipline, a few of the rounds do strike true along Handy’s side.

For the most part, his armor takes the haphazardly thrown lead as intended. A few of the rounds simply bounce and ricochet off the metal. A few actually impact and shatter or get stuck in it. But others, and more problematically, actually defeat the armor. With enough thrown at him, a few find gaps in the armor either from a lack of coverage or from previous damage.

He screams out in more pain and frustration as he tries to pick up the pace despite the wounds in his side and haunch. “This day’s been screwed up since we got out of bed this morning!”

“Quit your bitching and run!” Swift screams as she starts heading down the part of the catwalk that follows along over a hallway on the next floor down.

As Handy is approaching the corridor, the floor plating on the catwalk gives out under his stampeding earth pony bulk.

Swift comes back with a jump and quick snap of her wings and looks down through the hole. As Handy is picking himself up with a hacking cough, as a lot of dust was kicked up from his impact, Swift yells down, “Hey, Handy!” He looks up at her and raises an eyebrow. “‘Solid construction’, huh?”

He scrunches up his muzzle and is about to yell something at her, when their gun toting pursuers realize the slower target isn’t in view anymore. At about the same time, they realize the faster pony they previously couldn't hit, is suddenly much more in the open, and standing still.

Fortunately for Swift, she realized this wasn’t the best time for some good natured ribbing a moment before their opposition had, and was already springing away when the volley of fire comes up at her location.

Handy watches Swift jump away, and go fleeing from the incoming sparks bouncing off the railing and framework around her. He stands up and pulls out his hammer as he looks down the pathway between the machinery and plans to rush their attackers. His mind whirls with which swings to prep and where. Taking in the limited distances and areas of maneuverability so he doesn’t accidentally hit them and throw off his swings. He grins as he imagines planting one skull after another into the floorboards. But then reality hits him.

Along with a half dozen rounds of ammunition.

It wasn’t one pony coming around the corner. It wasn’t even three. It was practically a whole herd of automatic weapons that decided to take their ponies out for a ride.

Before the point where Handy loses count on the number of muzzles, both pony and automatic, that are pointed in his direction, he’s already: replaced his hammer, turned, and begun sprinting away through the side offices.

He runs through a meeting room of some kind, with a long table running the length of it in the middle, and makes for the door on the far side. He tramples various debris and kicks up both dust and ancient papers. Whether they are financial reports or love letters, Handy doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is the growing group of hoofclops behind himself.

And that shadow he just saw coming through the window on the left of the doorway he’s running towards.

The far wall has a window running it’s length, going from about chest height to the ceiling. The only break in it is the exit door set slightly off center. Handy changes his trajectory slightly as he pulls out his hammer again. He jumps, soaring towards the far wall. To the right of the door. And swings the hammer with all of his might as he prays to sweet Celestia that this window is of the cheap variety and doesn’t have some unicorn cheating magic making it nigh invulnerable.

He’s greeted with the pleasant surprise, and sight, of the widow shattering into a crystalline cascade as he soars through the new opening. In mid air, he readjusts his forehooves to brace for impact, and slightly turns his head to his left, looking at the other side of the door.

Handy lands with his forehooves, proceeded with his hind, against the far wall. As the glass is still clattering against the same wall, he springs off the wall and swings his hammer with a wide cut through the air, catching one of the bucks and a mare with the follow through. The third pony, a very surprised looking grey buck, had enough time to look at Handy, before the back swing of Handy’s pneumatic hammer caught him on the side of the head, and drove it straight through the wooden door he was preparing to shoot.

He twirls the hammer around, as the grey buck’s body is still deciding if it wants to go limp or not, and brings it back at an angle towards the mare and buck that were picking themselves up off of the ground. The strike lands true, and shoves the mare’s forelegs backwards, awkwardly, before slamming into the side of the head of the buck she was trying to untangle herself from.

As her screams turn shrill and sharp, with both foreknees broken, Handy prepares to bring down another blow on the buck to make sure he’s out for good.

But a couple of mares appearing at the far end of the hall, and starting to shoot at him, make a very persuasive argument on why it would be a bad idea to dawdle at the moment.

He turn and runs a few yards before jumping sideways and crashing through the next office door to get out of the arc of fire. He charges through the room and heads towards the door on the far side of it. To his great relief, it’s not simply a supply closet, or private bathroom, but a door into another section of hallway. He turns and heads down and away from the rest of the group as he looks around for a way down and out.

He may have found a way down to the third floor. But he’d really rather find another, better, way of doing it besides the ground giving out from under him spontaneously.

Handy makes it to an intersection, and turns his head right in time to see a trio of automatic barrels already pointed in his direction and just waiting to fire.

And they do.

The two mares and a buck unleash a wall of lead in his direction, and decorate the wall next to where he’d been standing with a massive array of craters. All while laughing and enjoying the target practice.

But, being too focused on their over armed fun, they didn’t really plan the attack very well. Or at all, really. And they all simply held down the trigger and let luck guide their shells.

But every one missed.

And, after barely beginning, the guns all click dry. Simultaneously.

Handy takes the opportunity and jumps back around the corner. He swings with his hammer, knocking two of their weapons away, and smacking the one mare hard enough that she tumbles to the side. On the back swing, the other two work in tandem and jump onto the handle portion of Handy’s hammer, causing him to stop and drop it. Though, dropping it was, despite what they may be thinking, entirely intentional.

As they are taking a split second to mentally gloat about disarming him, he springs around and plants a double hoofed applebuck kick to the mare, sending her crashing through the window of an office next to the other mare. The buck was at least lucid enough to realize the trick, and likewise drops the hammer as he rears up and starts swinging blows at Handy.

Handy sways side to side to avoid a few strikes before likewise rearing up and going hoof to hoof with the buck gunspony. They strike one blow after another at each other. Both earth ponies not giving an inch as they try to knock the other down for the finishing blows. But, Handy’s on a timer, and he knows it.

They both know it.

The moment even one of the mares gets enough sense back into them to reload and level their gun, Handy’s odds will be reduced to practically zero. And that’s to say nothing of the rest of the gang of drug crazy maniacs flooding the building.

Handy every so often spares a glance in the direction of the two mares. And each time it costs him a blow. The mare that’d gone through the window is still in there, and hasn't gotten up yet. The end of her orange tail is still drooping out of the window while the rest of her is heaped up in the room. The mare that’d taken the full strike is still slowly shaking her head, on the ground, and seems to be talking to her grandmother about baking cookies instead of going to school.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?! Don’t want to be in the middle of a three way tonight?!” the buck says with a mad laugh and a glint of glee in his eyes.

“Only if my hammer’s head is shoved up your ass and they’re spinning on the other end of the handle!” Handy retorts as he manage to get a strike past the buck’s guard and make a solid connection with the side of the buck’s muzzle.

The ganger laughs it off, literally, and asks in a condescending tone, “What was thaaaat… a mosquito?! You’re gonna have to do better than that for me to feel it!”

Handy growls, “If I had a Buck you’d be fucking glue by now!”

The buck laughs and smirks as he blocks, counters, and strikes at Handy. “Poor baby out of his medicine?” He manages a kick that makes Handy stumble back a bit. “Too bad! I’m ridin high, and you can’t take me!”

The mare that had been crawling around looking for some imaginary toy she’s lost looks over at them and frowns. She shakes her head then wobbly starts fumbling with her bag for a new magazine for her automatic pistol.

The buck grins at Handy over their hoof blows between them. “Times up, Buttercup.”

A blur of sky blue zips over and between them as Swift flies by at extremely close range coming from down the hall at a full tilt. The buck had enough presence of mind to glance at the incoming shape, but it only made the surprise attack that much more effective.

For as she flew by, at high speed, she gave her tail a snap, and slapped the ends like a whip right across his eyes.

Instantly his eyes started watering and he blinked involuntarily against the sharp sting.

But that was more than enough of an edge for Handy to take advantage of. Handy dropped down and sprung away, taking his hammer with him from the ground where the buck had dropped it. As the buck is opening his eyes again, wondering where Handy went. He finds out. As Handy’s hammer comes swinging bank in.

The last thing the buck ever hears is Handy’s pneumatic hammer going off, before he gets his soul smacked right out of him.

Ka-ta-TSSHHH.

The buck flips backwards from the impact with an unnatural bend in his back as he crumples to the floor from the first impact. The second impact, straight down on his form, was for good measure. But the third was, arguably, overkill in the strictest of sense.

Swift had bolted by Handy, giving him just the advantage he needed, as she went and took care of the other two. It didn’t take long, as one was still in a bit of a blurry eyed stupor. And the other was still trying to get herself untangled out of an office chair and desk.

She hops back through the broken window, flicking off the gore from her power hoof as she snorts. “I really hate guns…” She looks at Handy and asks softly, “You okay?”

Handy looks over at her and frowns. “Yeah… but I coulda took him on my own…”

Swift waves it off with a wing and turns to head down the hallway they were coming from. “I know, but we gotta get out of here before the rest of their friends show up.”

Handy looks her over, and notices the wide array of blood splatter covering her clothes and body. “You’ve been busy… huh?”

Swift walks by him and kicks the buck that has more in common with a can of red paint than a pony at the moment. “Yeah. These creeps are everywhere. Not that tough though.”

Handy nods as he pulls out a potion from his bag and quickly downs it. “Nah. Not that tough at all. Without their toys and their drugs they’re pretty weak it seems.”

Swift trots along with her head held high and her eyes closed. “Agreed!” She pauses and opens her eyes as she looks at the ceiling. “You know… I bet… we could just take them all out.” She looks over at Handy. “Just the two of us.” She grinds her power hoof into the floor. “What do you say? Wanna get a bit of payback for shooting us down?”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he looks at her. He trails his eyes over her form for a few moments, and slowly a smirk crosses his muzzle. “You know what. You’re on… we going to try and keep tally and see who wins?”

Swift turns towards him and shimmies her shoulders. “A competition? …If there’s a competition… there’s gotta be a prize.”

Handy shrugs. “We can figure that part out later.”

Swift frowns as she looks around. “Well that’s not very fun. Might as well not have a reward then…” Her ears perks up and she steps up close to him, getting muzzle to muzzle as she asks softly, “How about… If I win… You have to do whatever I want…?”

“‘Whatever you want’?” Handy parrots. “What’s that mean?”

Swift gives a shrug of her shoulders, “Oh nothing too serious.” She sees the questioning look in his eyes and grins as she says, “Oh don’t worry, I already have a few things in mind. Nothing too outlandish… and…” She turns around, using her tail to curl around and caress his neck and cheek. “I’ll make sure to limit it to when the kids are asleep…”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he starts to ask something, but can’t quite seem to get it out. He simply shakes his head and smirks as he says, “Sounds like a plan!”

Swift grins at him over her shoulder. “What… not going to ask what’s in it for you if you win?”

Handy shrugs and slings his hammer over his shoulder. “Something tells me I might not want to win this time.” He looks at her and grins. “But I’m gonna try anyway.”

Swift giggles as they continue off down the hallway.

She leads the way, going from one hallway and office room to another as they wind their way through, and down through, the floors of the office. Their original estimations that this building would be easier to get down with were true. As none of the stairwells have been collapsed in on themselves, like they had been in the building across the alleyway. But, this building seems to have far more of the automatic wielding ponies hopped up on drugs.

However, they quickly discover that Handy wasn’t the only one fighting a timer.

The drug addicted ponies start slowing down. They start acting even more erratic. And, in some cases, even start fighting each other as tempers flare. A few simply curl up in a corner, sweating heavily and rocking themselves as they mutter incomprehensibly. A few go so catatonic that Handy and Swift walk right by them, and they don’t even care. Not even when Swift relieves them of their weapon so they can’t shoot them in the back.

They only brought so much with them, and the fight had been going on for a while. And now, after hours of running around and fighting, they are running out of their various drugs of choice. They are crashing hard. A few who manage to keep their faculties still try to fight despite the shakes. Which just makes their spray and pray tactics that much more laughable as the bullets don’t even seem to know where they are going or what they were supposed to be aimed at originally. Some suffer withdrawal symptoms so bad that hitting the broad backside of an Ursa Major might be an impossibility for them.

Despite this apparent bit of luck, Handy and Swift still hear ongoing fighting outside of the building where they are currently. And much fiercer than whatever you want to call the pitiful display this factory floor has turned into.

Despite the bravado, Swift still doesn’t feel right about tracking down and killing defenseless ponies. Several she’d come across were so pitiful, she simply walked by and, in more than one case, actually right over them. A few that tried to fight, she obliged. But even of those, most she simply lost the enthusiasm for and went on about her business as they simply yelled at her.

In one case a mare actually cried and called her a coward for not killing her.

They make it to ground level, and outside, and the fighting picks back up as they continue on their route. While the fighting spirit has risen, probably from an increase in available drug stock, the actual danger level has gone down considerably. While the other groups were true groups. Sometimes much bigger and crowded together enough to make taking a head count impractical if not impossible. The ‘groups’ they are running into now are few and far between. And always, always, much smaller.

The largest group they’d encountered since making it outside was a group of four that seemed more interested in trying to suck out the last few microns of dust from a Dash inhaler than doing anything else. But, the moment they saw Handy and Swift, they charged them.

After the first one screamed that they could smell Buck on Swift.

The rest of the fighting has been duos or singles. Always seemingly caught off guard. And always in a daze as they are walking around. The fighting ability is a joke. But they try anyway. And present just enough of a hint of danger for Swift not to feel too guilty about it.

Handy and Swift swath a path through them. Not even bothering to stop to check their bags. They don’t know who else is fighting. Or where. But they can hear it. The ever present din of war all around them. Their movements become methodical. Almost mechanical. And very predictable:

Find a gun toting drug head.
Kill a gun toting drug head.
Continue down the road.
Repeat.

As Swift is picking up a mare, who’d jumped at her with a broken kitchen knife, and throwing her limp body into a dumpster nearby, she looks at Handy and frowns as she says, “You know, we could just wipe out the whole gang.” She uses a wing and flicks the mare’s hindleg the rest of the way into the dumpster as she says, “I mean look at these pathetic excuses for ponies!”

A buck jumps out from near the dumpster and swings a rifle at her head. No. Not simply a rifle used as a club. This one had a bayonet on it. She dodges the blow, watching the blade go harmlessly over her shoulder, before springing forward and striking the buck in the face with her power hoof. He falls forwards as she’s removing her hoof from his face. She steps into him, sweeping his legs out from under him and throwing him to the ground behind herself.

He hasn’t even gone still from the throw before Handy’s hammer swings around and down onto the buck’s head. Ensuring he’ll never get up again despite whatever chance he may have had before.

Handy flicks the gore off of his hammer as he looks back at her and grins. “Well. Looks like I’ll be the one winning then, huh? If you’re giving up that is.”

She grins at him and waves a single feather back and forth. “Tut, tut. I never said any such thing.” She turns and continues down the alleyway at a casual trot. “I’m just saying that this is a lot easier than I expected, and maybe we should pay their base a visit and see if they have any real competition.”

Handy looks over at her and purses his lips to the side as he asks, “What, I’m not competition enough for you?”

She waves it away with a wingtip. “It’s not much of a competition, if we’re working to... gether…” She gets a twinkle in her eye as she grins widely and gets an idea. “I bet we could cover more area if we split up a bit!” She hops around, then turns and runs as she giggles. “Keep count! And no cheating!”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he waves after her. “Aw come on, don’t go running off on your own again!”

She yells back with a giggle, “I’m a grown ass mare, and I can go where I want!”

Handy sits down and tilts his head back as he silently lets out a string of profanities at the sky. As far as excitable ponies go, no one would ever accuse Swift of being easily excitable. But, when she did get to that point, that’s where the problems come in at. The over enthusiasm of youth overtaking her more hard earned knowledge and experience. Combined, it turns into a disaster waiting to happen. And Handy knows it.

The only question is: who’s going to be on the receiving end of it this time?

He only hopes it isn’t her, him, and their children.

While Handy is still back there having a heart to heart with the universe on how much the current situation sucks, Swift zips down the alleyways. Each time she comes across a pony that seems to be looking for a fight, she obliges, then continues on down the way. The individuals are getting more scattered and harder to find, but they are still around.

Not to mention the roar of the fighting taking place in the complex seems to barely have quieted down. If indeed it has lowered at all.

She comes to a t-intersection, where another alley coming from her right dead ends into the one she is running down. She gets to the intersection in time to see a pair of automatic rifles emerge into the alleyway with her. As she’s getting right up on the intersection, a mare with a fully loaded battle saddle comes into view, and checks both directions as she’s entering the alleyway.

But, unfortunately for her, Swift’s direction was the second way she looked. And by the time she’s looking in Swift’s direction, Swift is swinging around under her, and slamming her back against the wall of the building that makes up this alleyway. She manages to get a few rounds off from each of her automatics, but they are wild shots that seemed to have no real purpose, or target, other than simply firing.

Swift rears up with her, holds her pressed to the wall with one hoof, and starts unleashing strike after strike with her power hoof as she screams. “I. Really. Hate. Guns!”

The most recognizable sound in the universe greets her ears from her left, and causes her to freeze solid as she’d pulled back to make another strike.

The little pony in Swift’s head’s hair stands on end, all of it, from tail to mane, as it huddles back with both forehooves in it’s mouth in terror.

In the time it took her to have that thought, she turned her head to look at the mare that’d just stepped into the alleyway not far from her. Practically point blank. But it’s not the average looking yellow earth pony with the orange eyes staring at her that’s making her mane crawl. No.

That honor belongs to the combat shotgun that just had a fresh round racked into the chamber. And is currently pointed right at her head.

Swift agrees with the little pony in her head with a mental confirmation, Aww shit…

A wave of darkness sweeps over her as the barrel erupts with fiery death.

Ka-BLOW

Footnote: Connection lost, attempting to reestablish, please stand by. . .

35 Shotgun Diplomacy

The alleyway echoes with the deafening sound of the shotgun blast. And, it is accompanied with a chorus of metallic clanks and a smattering of small pieces of concrete falling to the ground.

“Awww shattershot? What are you trying to do? Scratch the paint job? Slugs might do more than just tickle.” The quip is followed by a meaty soppy crunch.

Swift opens her eyes, not realizing she’d closed them tight instinctively when she saw the end of the barrel, and sees a shifting black form inches from her muzzle.

It moves again, stretching up and down, creating another meaty crunch before the gruff voice adds, “Lemmie show you how to use that shotgun.” Then another pair of blasts echo out in the alleyway as red splats cover the adjoining alleyway walls. “See, much more effective against unarmored targets.”

Swift blinks a few times, as she mentally does a check of her body. She glances sideways and sees a small collection of red dots growing on her clothes from where a few pellets had found purchase. But, nowhere else. She looks sideways the other way, at the mare she’d just been pounding, and gives her a quick threat-ending power hoof smash before turning her undivided attention to the huddled black mass in front of her. As her focus trails over their back and sides, she sees many segments of wires, and metal, sticking out of their back like a spider had plied their trade with some metallurgy.

Then the golden lines, like light shining through the cracks of a broken tinted window, catch her eye. Even more so when they turn to regard her.

“You alright, Swift?”

“G- Gearing!? You’re alive?!” Swift asks as her rear hits the ground in complete shock.

“I certainly hope so, the dead shouldn’t hurt like this,” he grumbles in a louder than normal voice. He gives a slight smirk, but Swift can tell something’s off with it. And it’s not just the partially caved in left side of his helmet that seems mangled and twisted into being form fitting with his left side. Nor his left eye that can’t open entirely from either damage or the helmet applying too much pressure. Every action he is making seems to be done with extreme effort. And cost.

“Hey! Metal ass!” a mare’s voice yells from the alleyway behind him.

A pair of hoofbeats draws Swift’s attention and she lowers herself as she prepares to pounce on the new arrivals. But stops and stares at the end of her muzzle, where Gearing’s forehoof appears and causes her to pause.

A pair of mares trot up and frown at Gearing as the left one says, “You should warn somepony when you decide to jump out of a damn window, you fool!”

The one on the right looks around and lets out a whistle as they look at the carnage. “Not really one for having any questions on if they survived or not, are ya?”

“Just having a bad day… and misery loves company,” Gearing mutters.

The one on the left leans sideways and notices the cloth behind him as she asks, “That who you’ve been looking for?”

Gearing shakes his head and steps to the side so the three can see each other clearly. “No… this is who you’ve been waiting on actually.” He waves a hoof at Swift. “This is ‘Iron Hoof’ Swift, the one Big Daddy said to keep an eye out for.” Both of their attentions snap to and start looking Swift over carefully as they try to size her up. Gearing waves over towards the two mares. “Swift, these two are with the Freight Cars.” He points to the one of the left, “This is Orchid.” Who dips her head a bit in confirmation as Gearing points towards the other, “And this is Silver Shoes.” Silver Shoes simply stands there constantly looking Swift over and doesn’t really pay attention to the introductions.

Swift likewise looks them over and tries to appraise their fighting ability and threat level. Orchid seems like a more timid green unicorn mare with a tree root brown mane. Her haunch is adorned with a pair of orchid flowers, stems intertwined, up until the two flowers, one blue and one purple, dip down at opposite angles. Both of her saddle bags seem particularly laden as they dip down and pull against the straps holding them over her back. Though, aside from the small knife on her right foreleg, the only visible weapon is the rifle casually slung over her shoulder. Silver Shoes, true to her name, is wearing a full set of metallic shoes that go up past the hoof. Along the sides are a combination of spikes and razors that declare them far more than just fashion accessories.

The bits of gore still imbedded in them help advertise that fact as well.

The long tan patchwork coat she is wearing covers up her own mark, and most of her hide. But Swift can make out the midnight black muzzle pointed in her direction, with an accompanying white mane, under her strange desperado hat.

Both of them are wearing a blue vest with golden buttons, and a matching conductor’s hat. A uniform they must have pilfered from some train station. Although, in Silver Shoe’s case, her conductor’s hat has been attached, and modified, to take up the place where the top of her desperado hat would be. Giving her a bit of a ridiculous appearance of wearing two hats at the same time.

Silver Shoes nods a few times as she makes out the various blood spatters, and the growing red patches, on Swift’s side. “I heard watching you fight is something, special. I hope it’s not a bunch of talk.”

Swift smirks at her and pounds the ground with her power hoof. “Oh, I can fight alright.” She grins as she stares at Silver Shoes. “Looking forward to some real competition.”

Gearing waves a hoof and asks, “Before you mares start a pissing for distance contest…” He looks at Swift. “Where is everyone else? Did Sable come down here with you?”

Swift’s unable to keep the instant involuntary cringe off of her muzzle as she tries to think how to convince Gearing that abandoning Sable was a good idea.

Gearing’s eyes go wide, only slightly wider in the case of his left eye, as he steps towards Swift. “What happened?! Swift, what happened to Sable? Is she okay?”

Swift waves it away with both forehooves and says quickly, “She’s still on the roof. She refused to come with us. Said she was going to stay there until you got back.”

Gearing lets out a groaning sigh as his shoulder slump a little in relief. “Oh… okay… Good…” He shakes his head. “I didn’t really expect you all to stay up there… but I can understand the reasoning both ways.” He nods as he looks around at the ground. “It is a bit easier to find each other if one stays put and lets the other come to them.”

Swift smiles and waves towards him. “No sweat. We can just fly over there real quick.”

He scrunches his muzzle up a bit to the side and tilts the right side of his head towards Swift as he asks louder, “What?!”

Orchid leans around Gearing and points at him before pointing at her own head. “He’s a bit hard of hearing. Gotta speak louder, especially on that left side.”

Swift looks back and forth, and, again, takes in the damaged helmet formed to his head. She leans to the side a bit and directs her comments towards his right ear. “I said we can just fly there!”

Gearing turns his head to look at her, then waves at his back with a forehoof. “Swift… I’m grounded… I’m not flying anywhere… and… no offense, I know you’re strong… but you’re not carrying my fat ass up like eight stories.”

Swift looks over his sides and back again, and it dawns on her. His wings have been made completely void of the green crystals that she’s learned to associate with his wing ‘feathers’. In their place is a tangled jumble of the spider web-like metal. Metal that, like the rest of him, had the same chemical treatment and is quite dark at the moment. Except at the points where they had been deeply scraped, gouged, and in more than a few cases, broken in two.

Her wings give an involuntary flutter at the thought of having such devastation unleashed on her own wings as she shakes her head. She looks at him as she tilts her head as another realization sets in. He’s injured. In a lot of pain. And not doing well. But, despite everything, he just saved her life. By shielding her with his own body. And seemingly coming back from the dead to do so.

She makes a mental note to think about this more later. When she has time. Right now there are a pair of very anxious individuals that she can help. “Well, let’s get up to the roof then. I just gotta go find Handy and let him know.”

Gearing shrugs and waves her off. “Alright. But, don’t go looking for the business end of a shotgun again. I need to get back to the roof, like yesterday. I’m out of equipment.” He looks the shotgun over as he grumbles, “Broke my sword off inside of somepony’s skull. Really shouldn’t have surprised me. It was shitily made anyway, and I can only polish a turd so much…”

Swift points a wing over to the dead mare with the battlesaddle. “There’s a couple rifles there if you want,” she offers loudly.

Gearing shakes his head ever so slightly. “I can’t use that kind of stuff now… I just need to get back to the roof as quickly as possible.”

“Well, whatever you do, just stay out of our way,” Silver Shoes comments as she looks between them. “These damn Wild Ones and their drugged-up nonsense have pissed us off enough we’re taking a few more blocks.” She glances over at Gearing. “You know where the building is and how to get up from the inside now. You going to handle it yourself or want us to tag along and help you clean out the place?”

Gearing gives a slight shake of his head. “No, I’ll take care of it.” He starts walking away slowly. “Sorry for the mess… in advance.”

Silver Shoes starts laughing and slapping a forehoof on the ground as she says, “‘Sorry for the mess’ he says!”

Orchid curls her lip and nose in a slight bit of disgust as she comments, “Well he’s not wrong about the messes he makes.” She points back and to the side at the meaty bloody pile that had once been an average looking yellow mare. Before she spontaneously got a whole lot uglier and grotesque.

And deader.

Silver Shoes snorts and points at Gearing. “Yeah, but he’s the only crazy sumbitch I know of that actually apologizes for it!”

Swift looks at Gearing as he turns and starts heading down the alley she’d come from. Her head zips back and forth between the corpses before she calls after him, “You’re not taking anything else?”

Gearing simply shakes his head as he keeps the combat shotgun’s grip in his mouth and continues down the alleyway.

Swift blinks a few times as she watches him leave. The champion of the ‘strip them naked and kick their corpse in a ditch’ method of scavenging is turning down free weapons… He must really not be feeling well. She scratches her chin a bit as she thinks it over, and debates on going with him.

She decides against it, as she really needs to locate Handy again, and turns to the two Fright Cars mares. “You two see a blue earth pony buck swinging a big hammer?”

Orchid nods and points off towards where they’d come from. “We saw him creaming a few Wild Ones losers.”

Silver Shoes grins as she looks at Orchid. “Oh, that tall drink of water?” She looks back at Swift as she waves it away. “Yeah, I thought about going down and introducing myself. But we decided to just enjoy the show from the window.” She sways with her whole body as she grins. “Strong buck like that might actually be able to keep up with me.” She grins wider. “I’d love to find out.”

Swift looks at Silver Shoes and narrows her eyes. “He’s taken.”

Silver Shoes grins as she tilts her hat and looks off sideways, not entirely seeing the problem with it. “Well…”

Swift leans sideways, stretches out her neck, and snorts as she looks Silver Shoes in the eyes. “He’s mine.”

Silver Shoes tilts her head and her eyes go wide as she straightens up and looks at her. “Seriously?” Swift nods and gives another snort. Silver Shoes flops down on her rear and folds her forehooves across her chest. “Fucking figures…”

Orchid puts a hoof to her muzzle as she giggles. She reaches over and pats Silver Shoes on the shoulder as she says, “I’d warned you not to get your hopes up on it too much.”

Silver Shoes waves her away with both forehooves before hopping up and heading towards the right, opposite Gearing. “Knock it off already. Come on, let’s go find some of these Wild Ones to work out some frustration.”

Orchid giggles as she follows Silver Shoes around the corner. “I thought you weren’t interested in drug heads?”

Silver Shoes glares at her sideways from under her hat. “I intend on beating them into the pavement.” She continues down the alleyway as she mutters, “Almost as good of a workout as sex… Almost.”

Orchid follows behind, giggling the whole way, and gives Swift a friendly wave as she passes.

She looks around, quickly taking in the three’s retreating forms, before turning and heading down the alley the two had come from. She needs to find Handy again. Things have gotten…

Strange.

* * *

Gearing slowly heads around the block towards the eight story building where he’d dropped off the others. All around, the sounds of fighting continue. But it seems to be at a distance. He hopes. His hearing is extremely hampered, and not being able to use his atypically exceptional hearing is making him feel very vulnerable. He even eventually goes to walk along the wall, keeping his worse ear near it as he walks. To give his ‘good’ ear as much space and angles to catch wayward sounds as he can.

He’s so uncomfortable with his current status he goes as far as even prioritizing this slight auditory improvement, over better cover and tactical positions provided by rubble and terrain.

When he gets near the building, he clamors up a pile of rubble as a particularly close gun battle greets even his ears. He crests the top of the brick pile, and finds a pair of earth ponies hiding behind a sky wagon and shooting at a group of ponies across the street. He takes in the scene, with the group of roughly four across the way firing a variety of weapons from the cover of a low wall. Each time one of their heads pops up, he notices the glint of gold on the center of their blue hats.

He looks down, at the backs of the two ponies below him. And every so often he catches the mad glint in their eye as they pop out to unload another practical full magazine in the general direction of the ponies across the street.

Gearing pulls himself up more, slowly, until he’s at the crest, with the pair of ponies less than a dozen feet down and in front of him. He rears up, then springs forward in an arc right at them. They are in the way of him getting inside of the door on the street side. And he can’t allow that at the moment.

Their weapons instantly silence.

But, for once, it is not from running out of ammo because of their spray and pray tendencies. No, the weapons silence because both of their mouths open past what should be physically possible in shrill screams. Releasing the weapons, and triggers, in the process.

Gearing evenly divides his weight between the two, with a pair of hooves digging into the middle of each one’s back. Entirely without the ability to mitigate any of it with his wings. Not that he would be likely to do that given the circumstances.

After practically slipping on the pair of ponies, he rears up and brings his forehooves back down. This time on the back of their heads and likewise silences them as his hooves don’t stop until they make contact with the concrete.

The bullets from across the street have stopped as, unlike the drugged up Wild Ones, the Freight Cars are keen on not wasting ammo and making sure they have a clear shot. And they notice him the moment Gearing’s bloody form comes out from behind the skywagon. He looks over at them, and a few point their weapons at him, but none of them fire as they try to sort out the situation.

One of the mares closest to him stands out from the low wall and waves at the others to stand down. “It’s one of Iron Hoof’s …” She yells over as she bounds over the wall. “Where’s Iron Hoof?”

Gearing holds the shotgun with his fetlock long enough to yell across the street, and make the area echo, “She’s getting her husband. We’re going to link up on top of this building. I’m going to clear it out.”

She grins at him, then looks back at the others as they climb over the wall. “What a coincidence… we were just about to claim that building…” She starts trotting towards him. “Might as well get it over with then.”

Gearing grumbles and waves a hoof towards her, and the others that start following her, as he says around the grip of the shotgun, “Thut youthelth.” Then turns towards the massive front door located at the top of a large set of decorative stone steps.

* * *

On the roof where they’d been deposited, Sable and Nahlah have remained in the same position since Handy and Swift left. With Nahlah sitting next to Sable, a paw around her shoulder, as she tries to comfort the metallic mare and provide her some semblance of stability to the situation.

Gauge however, is, in his entirety, unstable.

The fighting that they thought was so horrible before, has only been growing in volume. It’s seemed to coalesce into some sort of physical thing. A thing that has crashed into the building they are hiding on top of, and completely surrounded it. And, more terrifyingly, penetrated it. He can hear, through a variety of broken windows and collapsed segments of wall, the fighting getting closer. Not just around them. The time of that has long since passed. No, the fighting is getting closer still.

As it rises through the building under them.

To try and figure out what to do, he’s taken to pacing around the roof. Anyone else may have gotten annoyed by such actions. But Sable’s too busy lost in her own mind. And Nahlah is too busy trying to bring Sable back to reality.

So Gauge has been left to his own devices.

He’s become so nervous that even his apparently vast reserves of methane have already been released to join the foul atmosphere above them. He’s not sure how to get down from where they are. He could, he’s sure, just knock a hole in the roof. And if he couldn’t Sable certainly could with any one of several choices of destruction and mayhem at her disposal.

If he could get her to focus for a few moments long enough to understand what he wants.

But, even if that doesn’t work, there is always a last ditch effort to be employed. Through all of his pacing, especially the perimeter, he saw where Handy had impacted across the alleyway. He knows of the fire escape, and is pretty sure that at a full run, he could make it over there. It’ll just hurt like hell. Then he’ll have to worry about whatever else is in that building that either arrived after Handy and Swift went in there, or that they had missed.

Although he realizes he’s making a large assumption that they hadn’t already been overwhelmed by the persistent attackers all over the industrial complex.

As he’s aimlessly trotting around with his head low as he tries to think of what to do, and runs one horrible scenario of his grisly death before his mind’s eye after another, he notices a raised segment of metal sticking out of the roof. With literally nothing else to do besides contemplating his own mortality, he starts examining it. It doesn’t take him very long to realize what it is.

A roof access hatch.

He trots over to Sable and Nahlah, coming up next to them, but on the side opposite the hatch, as he points over to it across the front of their muzzles to try and get their attention. “There’s a roof hatch over there, mmkay?!”

Nahlah nods and looks at him. “Well, at least we know we have another way down instead of jumping.”

He shakes his head and points at it a few more times with the same hoof, then shakes it at the hatch’s general direction. “But if we can get down that way… they can come up!”

Nahlah smirks. “Yeah… stairs tend to work in both directions, Gauge.”

He looks at her for a moment before sitting down and pointing both forehooves at it. “Shouldn’t we… I don’t know… Do something about it?!”

Sable keeps her gaze fixed to an indescribable point in space as she replies, “If any hostile ponies emerge, and try to prevent me from seeing my darling Gearing again, I will act accordingly.”

Gauge looks at her and frowns. He lets out a sigh as he asks, “And how’s that?”

“Termination.” She turns her head to look at him as she adds, “With extreme prejudice.”

Gauge’s eyes jump back and forth between hers and Nahlah. “Oo... kay…”

Nahlah waves a paw at him and smiles lightly. “Gauge. Calm down. Just don’t make too much noise. The fighting’s already dying down under us. We can just skip out after dark once all of the excitement’s died down.”

Sable nods. “Once my darling Gearing is back, we can go. My darling Gearing will be back soon.”

Gauge lies down and covers his head as he moans, “I probably shoulda went with Swift while I still had the chance…”

Nahlah looks over at him and frowns as she narrows her eyes. “No one’s stopping you…”

He turns to look at her and say something. But stops, with his muzzle open, as a metallic clank greets his ears. Nahlah looks over, at the same time he does, to the source.

The roof access.

As they are watching it, very closely, they hear another deep toned thump, and the hatch shake from a large impact.

Gauge sits up and points at it as he practically squeaks. “See! See! I told ya, mmmkay!?”

Sable glances over, then looks back where she was previously looking as she comments. “There are no hostiles in sight.”

There's a pause, as everything goes quiet. Even the fighting in the building has noticeably disappeared.

A moment later the roof access buckles upwards as it warps from an impact and goes flying open. But it only manages to stay attached, instead of soaring through the air, by a single hinge that bent and warped to allow the access hatch to slam into the concrete roof.

Gauge points at the mangled metal as it rocks and slowly comes to a rest. “What about now!?”

“Still zero hostiles detected.”

Gauge huddles behind her as he looks at the hatch and debates on the merits of making a run for the fire escape. “What they gotta do!? Shoot all of us, mmkay?!”

A dark from erupts from the hole, then impacts into the concrete with enough force to make them all feel the vibrations from a distance away. Through the concrete. Cracks form out from the point of impact as the guilty party starts walking towards them and comments, loudly, “Damn lock didn’t want to give.”

Gearing walks towards them as he asks, “You all okay?” His head whips around, then stops and focuses on Sable as he slightly changes directions to head straight towards her. “Sable?”

Nahlah and Gauge’s jaws fall to the concrete as they stare at him in complete disbelief.

The only composed member of the current party on the roof is Sable. She directs her focus towards him and smiles warmly as she greets him, “Hello, my darling. I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to get back.” She points a hoof towards the pile of supplies. “I’ve made sure you’re equipment is safe. I knew you would need it.”

He trots up in front of her and sits down as he gently rubs his right forehoof across her cheek. “Are you okay, Sable?”

Sable nods and nuzzles into the contact. “Yes, my love.” Then she starts leaning into it more, and, a moment later, she starts shaking as she looks down. “I knew you would be back.” She shakes her head. “I know…” She looks up at him. “I know…” She looks between Nahlah and Gauge. “I know it does not make sense… I am aware that it was logically flawed. My systems ran the calculations over and over and kept telling me it was not the case. The possibility was, in fact, not a possibility.” She looks up at Gearing and smiles. “But… deep down I knew.” She waves a hoof dismissively and giggles lightly. “It’s silly. I know… But a file in my system kept activating and confirming your return. That I just had to sit here.” she taps on the concrete below them. “And wait for you to come back. It assured me you would be back…” She leans over and nuzzles him gently. “And here you are.”

“And here we are…” Gearing says softly as he nuzzles her back.

Sable continues to nuzzle him as she asks, “Why did my darling Gearing’s PipBuck tag register as offline? Where did my darling Gearing go?”

Gearing lets out a groan and says softly, “Got too close to a matrix disruption blast, apparently. I could normally just sort it out on my own… but... Well… with a variety of issues going on I can’t right now…” He holds up his dead PipBuck and asks, “Mind helping me get it back online? It has a backup bootstrap that’ll work with the PipBuck systems in a pinch.”

She nods and smiles. “I would be happy to assist my darling Gearing.” She pats the concrete in front of her as she lies down. “Lay here. You must be tired.”

“Exhausted…” Gearing groans as he does as instructed.

Then, to his surprise, Sable lies down more, and uses her cables to direct his head to lie across her forelegs. As he’s getting comfortable, and letting her have her extra contact, she connects a data cable into his PipBuck.

She gently rubs his shoulder as she looks off into space. “PipBuck access in progress… Matrix rebooting.”

Gearing closes his eyes and nuzzles into her forelegs as he can't help but imagining lying out on a fluffy cloud at the moment. And quickly starts getting comfortable.

The moment is ruined when Sable begins screeching out, at high volume, “Alert! Warning! Critical damage has been sustained! Seek immediate medical attention! Wait… My darling Gearing is hurt!” She looks around quickly then starts waving her cables at the pile of supplies. “Quickly! We must administer healing potions now!”

Nahlah manages to shake off enough of her complete dumbfoundedness to spring over and start digging through the supplies as requested.

“I’m fine! Sable, knock it off, I’m not that bad!”

“Yes you are!” Sable insists.

Almost to prove her point, Gearing’s vision gets cluttered with a wide array of warning messages and simplified pictures of ponies thrashing around and crying with damaged body parts. Especially head and wings.

“Dammit, Sable!” Gearing protests. “I keep that shit off for a reason. And…” he pauses as he looks up at her. “How the hell you even override my settings and activate that anyway, that shouldn’t be possible!”

She leans down and begins caressing his cheek. “Don’t worry, Gearing. I’m here to take care of you, my love.”

Nahlah bounds over with a couple potions held out at the ready. “Here. There’s a few more but he looks like he really needs these and it’ll take me a bit to dig the rest out.”

Sable takes it with her cables and nods her thanks, but Gearing lifts up a hoof to stop her from opening them up. “Sable, I can’t drink that right now.”

Sable looks down at him, and brings a pair of the potions over as she says, “But my darling Gearing is injured. Badly. He needs to be healed before he prematurely terminates.”

Gearing shakes his head lightly and says with a huff, “I’m not going to die that easily… but I can’t take those potions…” he looks up at her and frowns. “Not until I get this helmet off, that is.”

She sets the potions down then begins wrapping her cables around the helmet. “Then let’s get it off so we can administer proper treatment.”

His hooves jump up and hold the helmet down as he clamps down on her cables. “No!”

She stops solid and lets him have all the time he needs to explain himself.

“Sable, my ear’s crushed into it. I’ve already tried taking it off. Repeatedly. We’re going to have to cut the damn thing off. If I drink one of those potions, it’s going to try and focus where I need it most, which is my head. But, that’ll basically heal my ear into the helmet, and just make it much worse. Possibly permanently warp it.” Gearing lets out a sigh as he finishes. “So, not now…”

Nahlah looks him over and asks, “Gearing… you look like hell… What can we do for you?”

Gearing shakes his head lightly. “Besides getting a hold of a workshop, or at least a room where I can do what needs to be done with my own tools that were in the wagon. If they’re still here. There’s nothing really… besides.” he looks up at Sable and nuzzles into her chest lightly. “You helped keep Sable safe… And that’s a lot already… so. Thank you.”

“My love… if you are attempting to flirt with me… I must warn you…” Sable leans down and kisses his muzzle. “It’s definitely working.”

Gearing simply smiles, and leans into the kiss as he closes his eyes and lays there.

Gauge looks around as he asks, “So, what’s the plan? Mmmkay? What’ll we do now?”

Gearing goes still and enjoys the gentle contact provided by Sable as she caresses him with her cables. “We wait here for Swift and Handy to get back. Then head out.”

Nahlah looks over towards the roof access hatch as she asks, “Why’s it getting so quiet out there?”

Gearing grins. “Cuz the bad ponies are losing… badly.”

“Ah,” Nahlah says as she looks around. “Guess that means us getting shot at less now, then?”

“Mmmhmm,” Gearing mutters. He leans against Sable more and says quietly, “I’m… I’m just going to lay here for a bit… Rest my eyes a second… Lemmie know when Swift’s back… kay?”

“As you wish, my love,” Sable says inches from his eyes.

Gearing nuzzles her lightly, then goes incomprehensibly still as he drifts off.

Sable, still connected to Gearing’s PipBuck, looks over at Nahlah and comments quietly, “Gearing’s vitals are stable, but critical…” She looks over at Gauge. “Please go through our supplies and collect all of our tools into a single bag. Prioritize various saws and metal working tools.” She looks down at Gearing and frowns. “He’s going to need them tonight.”

Gauge, for the first time in a while, has a real sense of hope of getting out of this with his hide intact, and quickly, and happily, complies. While the other two watch over and tend to Gearing’s unconscious form.

Footnote: Connection reestablished, User Online, running diagnostic… please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter drops a few subtle hints along the way of certain things that'll be explained later on. But only time will tell how many will notice. In the mean time, Gearing's back, and he's apparently made a few new friends. Though, he's worse for wear.

Thanks to my beta readers who've constantly helped me keep this story moving along. You're all amazing!

Quillsy

36 Face Off

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A green pegasus wearing an emerald green long shirt, that glints in the overhead lights, hops through the front door of one of downtown Manehatten’s seedier nightclubs. The long sleeve shirt allows his mark to peek out every now and then with his movements. Revealing a simple cumulus cloud with a seedling seeming to be growing out of it with a pair of delicate leaves making a wide V-shape on his haunch. He bops along with each step as he glides through the crowd. The music blaring from the speakers is infectious. A recorded masterpiece of a live performance Vinyl Scratch did somewhere more reputable than the club he’s currently gliding through. Still. The beat has a way of getting into your bones and to ignore it would be a blasphemy. But to accept its embrace is to dance. And dance he does.

Along with nearly everyone else in the club. Not even the bartenders can keep themselves from at least swaying and hopping to the beat.

The war be damned. In here, it practically doesn’t exist. At least that’s the goal of such excessive partying.

As he’s passing by a pair of mares, the earth pony mare pulls out a very recognizable tin and pops it open for her friend to share.

The green pegasus pauses and leans toward them as one of the unicorns floats one and pops it into her mouth with a grin. “Hey, they’ve really started cracking down on the contraband. Shouldn’t have that out like that, right?”

They look at him and the earth mare frowns. “You a Pink or something? Gonna arrest me, officer?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. Then rocks with the beat to bump her hip with his. “Nah. Just a friendly update. I’m only interested in having a good time.”

She smirks at him and looks him over before offering him one. “Well, the more the merrier!”

“Oh, I better not.” He looks at it then grins as he leans in towards her, and speaks softly into her ear, “I’ve been told I’m a horrible flirt as it is. I don’t need any more... encouragement.” When he pulls back she has a massive smirk on her face, and he just gives her a wink then continues on through the crowd.

He keeps looking back and forth, looking over everyone. And, when an area opens up a bit, he actually hops up onto his hindlegs and starts stepping and hopping to the beat. He flares out his wings here and there as he spins around to the beat, with the flashing lights hitting him and giving viewers practical still images of his various poses. He starts getting a bit of a crowd around him as he keeps spinning and twirling around. After several minutes of playing with the lights he decides one plane just isn’t enough, and jumps into the air to flit around above the crowd. Him and the other two pegasi in the club, one purple mare and one peach, dance around mid air. And they eventually start a mid air dance off with each other.

As he starts his next round, by mimicking the purple mare’s moves, except while flying entirely upside down, the front door to the club bursts open and five ponies run in wearing guard riot gear.

The unicorn in the lead waves around a baton with his magic as he yells out, “This is a raid! Shut off that damn music!”

The two pegasi mares bolt off to a corner near the ceiling to hide as they try to get one of the windows open near the roof to escape. The green pegasus flutters over the crowd and folds his forelegs in front of his chest as he scowls. “Nothing like ruining my damn night off.”

The normal overhead lights turn on and the music shuts off abruptly as everyone stares on with wide eyes and uncertainty stretched across every feature.

The officers split up, with two staying at the entrance. The other three disperse through the crowd making everyone line up and back towards the bar counter as they start going through and checking everyone.

The fluttering green pegasus enjoys his bird’s eye view as he watches as one of the guards confronts the earth mare from earlier, and takes the tin of mint-als from her. But, then just turns and goes down the line. The mare looks positively relieved. The green pegasus heads over and lands near a vanilla earth pony stallion as he asks, “Hey, Buck?”

Buck turns and looks at him with his eyes widening then looks around as he asks, “Cloud Seed? What are you doing here?”

Cloud Seed leans towards him then nods towards the guards. “You know anything about this?”

Buck shakes his head. “No, and… honestly… this seems off.”

Cloud Seed nods and looks around. “They’re just taking stuff from patrons.”

Buck frowns as he looks over at the two at the door. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.” Cloud Seed nods but says nothing else as he looks around and steps back towards a few other members of the crowd. Buck walks up to the unicorn that led the group of guardsponies in.

The unicorn spins towards him and points his baton at Buck as he yells, “The hell you think you’re going?!”

Buck stares at him and asks, “Who authorized this raid?”

“Don’t need authorization to perform a raid. Now back up or I’ll crack your skull!” he yells back.

Buck looks back and forth between the two, then at the third one that has turned and come back to flank him. “Where’s your warrant?”

The third one holds their shotgun up in the air with his own levitation field and glares at him. “You keep running your mouth and I’m gonna give you a kiss with the butt of Thunder here. Just cough up all the contraband or we’ll send your ass straight to Hightower.”

Buck glares at him. “The problem with that, would be you’d need a warrant to perform a raid… Which you don’t seem to have…”

A fourth one returns and comes up to Buck’s other side waving around his baton. “I think this dumb ass needs a lesson in how things work.”

Cloud Seed lands next to Buck, looking straight at the newest buck as he grins. “Oh… I think he already knows… Unlike your dumbass, we actually know how MoM works.”

The fifth one comes out of the crowd of patrons and screams, “It’s a fucking Pink!” before he pulls out a pistol on Cloud Seed. Cloud Seed rocks sideways, shoving Buck over onto the ground as the fifth earth pony fires twice. Into Cloud Seed’s chest.

The crowd drops to the ground and screams as they recoil from the shots.

Cloud Seed jumps over, bringing his wing around and slapping the pistol right out of the earth stallion’s mouth. His next revolution increases in speed with a snap of his wings, to grab the stallion by their helmet. He follows through by throwing them across the room to cause them to crash into, and knock over, two of the other officers.

The one with the shotgun lowers the barrel to point it at Cloud Seed, but, before it gets there, Buck kicks upwords with both hind legs and sends the gun sailing up and through the air as he knocks it clear out of their magical field. He spins around, hitting them in the back of their legs with his own, causing them to fall forward on their face with him, as he’s getting up.

The apparent leader jumps over and puts the baton across Bucks neck and starts pulling him up and backwards as he screams, “You’ve done it now, pink!”

Cloud Seed crashes into him from the side, bulldozing him over and into the other three as they were just about to recuperate from getting knocked over by their comrade being thrown at them. Cloud Seed picks one of them up with his forelegs, and arcs backwards, dropping them on their helmeted head and sending the face shield scattering into a bunch of pieces.

One of the earth ponies jumps onto Cloud Seed’s back and brings their baton around his neck, using his fetlocks to hold the baton across Cloud Seed’s throat. He keeps pulling it back as he tries to strangle Cloud Seed.

Buck jumps over, planting his forehooves and using his momentum to spin around as he applebucks the earth pony clear off of Cloud Seed and into the pile of battered policeponies.

The crowd looks on with shock, and amazement, as Cloud Seed and Buck barehoofedly pummel the fully armored guards, by keeping them down and against the wall, as they kick and punt them. In one case they actually punt one stallion’s head back and forth between them in a weird version of volleyball before knocking his unconscious body into the wall.

When they are on the ground, and unable to get up again, Cloud Seed and Buck quickly go between them. They use the policeponies’ own hoofcuffs on them as they remove their weapons and store them in a saddlebag to keep the unicorns from using them.

Buck sits down and spits out a tooth, and some blood, to the side as he looks at Cloud Seed. “Cloud, you going to be okay?”

Cloud Seed uses a hoof and holds onto his upper shoulder as he groans, “Yea, I’ll live, Buck. Was only 10mm. Dammit, I liked this shirt too.”

Buck shakes his head as he chuckles. “‘Only 10mm’ he says. Do you go anywhere without a vest?” Cloud Seed just shrugs and grins at him. Buck frowns as he shakes his head then looks around at the crowd. “Everypony else okay? Is there anypony else hurt?”

The crowd murmurs but the injuries do indeed seem to be contained only to those seven involved.

Buck lets out a sigh and smiles. “Well. Thank goodness for small favors.” He looks over at the bartender and yells, “Hey, barkeep. Call the local MoM hub. Tell them Buck said to get a team over here now.”

The bartender nods his head quickly and picks up the phone.

Several members of the crowd look around anxiously as they try to assess the situation.

Cloud Seed looks over at Buck and asks with a smirk, “Mind plugging your ears for a minute?” Buck looks at him with a raised eyebrow, then rolls his eyes as he chuckles and puts his hooves to his ears as he starts loudly humming to himself. Cloud Seed grins, then looks back to the crowd. “I’m sure there’s more than enough witnesses… so… if you have any particular reason not to want to be involved with a Ministry of Morale investigation…” He looks right at the mare that had the tin of mint-als and catches her eye contact before he points to a back exit sign. “I’d say you’d…. probably want to not be here…” They don’t move at all and then Cloud Seed says with a grin, “Don’t forget, Ministry of Peace is available for all of your physical and mental health needs, so feel free to stop by any of their wonderful locations to get an evaluation… like… now.”

A bunch of them quickly turn and clammer out of a side door with the earth pony mare blowing him a kiss before scurrying away.

Cloud Seed starts heading towards the front door as he waves at Buck. Buck pulls his hooves away and Cloud Seed says with a groan, “I’ll make a call. Get MoI to spin this…” He sits down and swipes the hoof across the empty space in front of himself. “Cunning MoM agent foils corruption and robbery!”

Buck shakes his head and chuckles. “And… you’re going to make my ass have to deal with all that press, aren’t you?”

Cloud Seed gives him a grin. “Enjoy the pay bonus!”

Buck waves him away with a hoof as he chuckles. “Get out of here already, Cloud Seed.” As Cloud Seed is heading out the door Buck yells after him, “And get those damn gunshots looked at!”

Cloud Seed gives an over the shoulder wing wave, but takes flight as soon as he’s through the doors.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing wakes up with Sable still cradling his head with her forelegs. He opens his eyes and looks up at Sable, as she gently rubs and caresses his muzzle with a cable. He lets out a bit of a groan before he asks, “Something wrong, Sable?”

“You had asked to be informed when Swift had returned.” She smiles and nods over to the side as she says, “They have just returned.” Gearing lifts his head up a bit and looks over at Handy and Swift as they slowly approach.

But Handy notably stops first, and keeps his distance from them, as he looks Gearing over and comments, “He really is alive.” He shakes his head and flops down on his rear as he starts looking over everyone, as they stare at him. Even Swift. He points a hoof at Gearing and says defensively, “This is impossible. Nopony could have survived that explosion. This makes no sense!” Handy tilts side to side, taking in the vast damage of Gearing’s form and still not believing what’s before his very eyes. “How the hell did you survive that?!” he finally blurts out.

“I didn’t. That’s how,” Gearing mutters.

They all turn their focus to him, with Swift’s very slowly turning as her eyes go wide.

“What do you mean, you ‘didn’t’, Gearing?” Swift asks with a soft voice.

Gearing groans and asks, “You say something, Swift?”

“Subject Swift asked you to clarify your previous statement,” Sable offers near his ears.

“I wasn’t connected to the wagon when it blew. I managed to get some distance before it went up, but the explosion dropped a fucking floor on my head,” Gearing continues with a grumble.

“You mean ‘ceiling’ right, Gearing?” Handy asks a bit louder than normal in surprise as he tilts his head.

Gearing glares over at him with his good eye as he points at his head. “No, Handy, I meant floor. As in half of the fucking eleventh floor.” He points towards the building across the street as he continues grumbling, “The inside of the building has a couple centuries’ worth of water damage, and the entire place is honeycombed with structural failures. It was already so damaged that the blast apparently took enough of the remaining support structure and caused half of the eleventh floor to come down on top of me.” He points at his mangled helmet. “On my fucking head.”

He nuzzles into Sable’s forelegs as he mutters. “It’s a good thing the concrete I was running across was so screwed up already. The impact knocked me through the floor.” He shrugs lightly, and winces at the unnecessary movement. “Otherwise I’d probably be a clockwork sardine, instead of a pegasus at the moment…”

“Well… how-” Handy begins, but cuts off instantly as he’s talked over and interrupted.

“Head of Maintenance Subject Handy Hooves,” Sable says loudly, drowning out any other conversation and earning everyone’s attention.

Handy takes a couple steps backwards, for good measure, as he looks at her.

“Gearing has sustained massive trauma, and is in need of immediate medical attention. Treatment was only delayed long enough for the party to rally. Now that everyone is here, we need to locate a proper area and begin necessary treatment procedures,” Sable comments as she stares at Handy. Her stare is intense and, as he had previously learned, the look is one of pure determination that will flat refuse any alternatives to exist.

“What do we need to do?” Swift walks around and sits next to Gearing and Sable as she slowly takes in his injured form. Now that he’s completely still and neither fighting nor walking away from her.

Sable directs her attention to Swift and replies, “We need a safe, and secure, location. With a variety of tools. Primarily metal working. We need to get his armor off before we can begin proper treatment. Some of it will need to be surgically removed.”

“This whole area’s an industrial complex for manufacturing. Even if they don’t have the equipment we need to do their manufacturing, they’d have to have a maintenance wing for the upkeep of the equipment. That should have everything you’d need,” Handy observes as he looks around with a hoof to his chin as he mindlessly talks allowed and thinks things through.

“Subject Handy Hooves,” Sable says flatly. Handy jumps and looks over at her wide-eyed as he wonders if he’d said something off while he was rambling. But, he relaxes as Sable smiles and dips her head. “Thank you for your analysis. That is a useful solution.”

“Uh, yeah… sure,” Handy mutters as he rubs his hoof on the back of his head. He looks over and sees Swift looking at him, and gives her a sheepish smile. She smiles broadly and nods at him before turning her attention back towards Sable.

“The Freight Cars have taken over this whole area. They’ve extended their territory by a few blocks,” Swift adds. “If we’re looking for some machinery to use close by, I bet that building we flew through would be a good place to start.” She looks over at Handy. “How about we go take a look, and make sure, while they climb down?”

Handy nods as he starts walking back over towards the roof access hatch. “Sounds like a plan. I’d like to get off the roof as quickly as possible. Being up this high is unnatural…”

Swift zips over, wraps her legs around his chest, and giggles into his ear, “If you insist…”

“Swift?! What?! Wait!” he starts flailing around as she starts lifting off with him. “That’s not what I meant! Swift! Swwiiiiiift!” Handy bellows as Swift promptly, and quickly, zips over and drops over the edge. With her flailing earth pony bundle securely held in her forelegs.

Sable watches them, then slowly turns to look at Gearing. “My love?” Gearing looks up at her and she continues, “Is it a pegasi fetish to tease earthbound creatures with heights?”

Gearing grins. “Not exactly a fetish… but certainly amusing…” He lets out a groan then starts picking himself back up onto his hooves. “Alright, let’s start the trip down, it’s going to take us a bit using the stairs.”

Sable watches as parts of his mangled wings scrape and grind against the concrete floor. “I do not think it would be appropriate for you to carry anything in your condition.” She looks over at Gauge and says as she’s standing up, “Subject Gauge.”

He looks at her from his position sitting near the cache of supplies. “Yeah, Sable?”

Sable points next to him with a cable as she extends a few others. “Please load up as much of our supplies as you can. Prioritize tools first, then medical supplies, then judge by relative value.”

Gauge waves his forehooves and asks as he scowls, “Why I gotta play pack brahmin, mmkay?!”

Sable lifts up the minigun and holds it out in his direction with her restraining cables. “Would Subject Gauge prefer to take on the task of forward combat security duty instead? I am more than capable, and willing, to trade duties if that is your wish.”

Gauge’s eyes go wide and he asks while staring at the massive minigun. “What about Nahlah?”

“Subject Nahlah is recovering from grievous injuries, and it would not be appropriate for her to take on security tasks… furthermore, Subject Nahlah has already voluntarily laden herself with various medical supplies,” Sable replies.

Gauge looks over and sees, sure enough, Nahlah’s already sitting over there with a pair of saddle bags loaded down. She gives Gauge a smug grin then gives him a thumbs up as she casually swishes her tail.

“Well, Subject Gauge?” Sable prods as she holds the minigun closer to him. “Would you prefer to deal with any hostiles we come across?”

Gauge lets out a long dust disturbing gas emission at the thought of it. He hops up to his hooves and points over to the side.” No… no, no, no… that’s okay… I’ll…. I’ll be right over here, mmkay? Right behind you…” He grins and salutes sloppily as he gives an unconvincing grin. “Pack brahmin reporting for duty! Mmkay?!”

Sable stares at him for a few moments, and doesn’t stop until he turns and actually starts slinging bags over his back. After confirming that he’s not going to skip out on doing at least some work, she turns and starts walking towards the access hatch with the minigun held aloft at the ready.

Gearing smirks as he watches her walk towards him. He asks as she’s walking alongside him, “Sable… since when do you have a minigun?”

“Since some inconsiderate son-of-a-mule decided to use it to hurt my love,” Sable quips as her eyes momentarily go from their soothing blue color to a menacing red.

“And… where is this pony?” Gearing asks with a raised eyebrow.

Sable doesn’t even look at him as she asks, loud enough for him to actually hear, “Which piece of them are you referring to? Or, are you asking for the general grouping?”

Gearing starts chuckling as he shakes his head slowly. “Never mind. That lets me know all I need to know.”

She looks at him sideways over her shoulder. “Oh?”

Gearing walks by her, and nuzzles her shoulder gently before heading down the steps. “That you’d already taken care of it. Yup.”

Sable grins as she watches him go down the stairs. Feeling giddy at being praised. Even more so at the angle he provides her. She reaches out a spare cable with a growing grin and prepares to give his flank a playful smack. But stops.

She takes in the damage along his entire body, and how mangled his wings are. She sees the effort each step is taking him as he goes down. The smile falls off her muzzle.

She retracts the cable without making contact of any kind and asks, “If you need any assistance, I am here for you. Always, my love. Is there anyway I can help you?”

Gearing slowly shakes his head and leads the way down to ground level. “Not until we get to the workshop. But, thank you, Sable.”

She smiles and nods as she follows closely. “Always glad to assist my love.”

It takes them a while to get to ground level, as they have to walk through all eight floors of the building before they make it to ground level. Gauge had been bringing up the rear at quite a distance. But, as they passed one group of carnage after another, he got closer and closer to the rest of the group. Closer to the relative safety of their improvised herd.

Closer to the pair of trotting death machines that, if nothing else, will draw far more agro than his meek self.

By the time they make it to ground level, and get back around the building to the back side where the large open manufacturing building had been, Swift has already started hauling down the rest of their supplies. She passes off a pair of bags to Handy, who’s standing in a gaping hole in the side of the building. She looks over at Sable and nods into the hole. “Follow Handy. We found the maintenance wing, and it looks mostly intact.” Then she turns and zips up to the rooftop again for another load.

The procession follows Handy into the building, then take an immediate turn behind the wreckage of a large cargo hauling machine. Along the entire path, the signs of the recent fighting is evident by spent cartridges, blood, and corpses. Handy leads them through a large hallway, that dead ends with a ramp that leads up to a massive sliding shutter. To the left of the massive shutter is a more sensible sized door for normal pony hoof traffic.

Handy leads the way into the room, and starts setting down the bags on a growing pile in the office area. He points off towards a side door that leads where the shutter is closed off. “The repair bay is through that door. Besides that main door for the cargo loaders, and this door, it looks like it doesn’t have any other way in or out. So, this should be as secure as it will get.”

Sable grabs one of the metal desks with her cables, spins it around, and lays the minigun on it, pointed at the door, as she comments, “Here. Use this if it becomes necessary to defend our position.

Gearing heads into the bay, and tries the lights. But grumbles as nothing seems to be working right. “Lights are blown. I don’t have time to fix that right now…”

Sable pulls out a small emergency light from her saddle bag and holds it up as she offers, “We do not require much light to do what is necessary. This should suffice for the two of us.”

Gearing nods and starts heading inside as he says, “I’ll do a quick tally of what all’s here. Hopefully with what we already have it’ll be enough.”

Sable follows along, and pauses long enough to extend out her cables and point all of them around Gauge. He stands there with his eyes wide as he sees the various points aiming at him. “Subject Gauge, which bags contain tools or medical supplies?” Gauge promptly points at three, then practically gets lifted in the air as Sable quickly grabs and removes them from his person. “Thank you for your assistance.” As she’s heading inside she turns her head awkwardly and comments, “I am unsure of the procedures that will be needed. Please do not enter unless your presence is requested. Or hostiles are attacking.”

As Sable is closing the door behind herself, Swift flies in with the last load of supplies. Swift looks around and asks, “Well, what should we do while we wait?”

Nahlah hops up and grins as she looks at Swift. “I don’t know about you, but I know what I’m going to do!”

They all look at her and Swift raises an eyebrow as she sees the mischievous grin across her friend’s muzzle. “And what’s that?”

Nahlah pulls out a cooking pot from the supplies, hops over behind the metal desk with the minigun, and puts the pot on her head like a helmet as she grins. “I got dibs on the machine gun!” She wraps her paws around the handle and trigger grip and rubs her cheek against it as she, quite literally, purrs.

Swift starts laughing and points at it with a hoof as she asks, “Can you even lift that thing?”

Nahlah shrugs as she continuously caresses the large weapon. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. It’s already on the desk.”

“You know how to use it?” Swift prods.

Nahlah points at the door. “Hot lead goes in bad guys?”

Swift snickers as she shakes her head. “Close enough… watch out for the kick though. It’s bound to have some serious recoil.”

“Ooohhh don’t worry… I love a good pounding.” She gives Swift a coy grin as she makes some very lewd pelvic thrusts against the desk and gun.

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes as she groans. “Again… no shame…”

It doesn’t take long before the sounds of various power equipment begin spilling out of the maintenance bay. Various saws whir and screech out as they cut though unknown materials. A few drills ramp up here and there. Various bits are punctuated with metallic hammer blows. The noise increases as multiple tools start getting used simultaneously.

The rest, not sure what else to do, take the time to rest up and take stock of everything that’s happened. Swift can only handle so much of the waiting before she leaves the room and heads out on her own again. A lot has happened that she needs to think about. To process. Most of it not anything easily handled. And being in such close proximity to the sounds coming out of the maintenance bay is just making matters worse. So she excuses herself and sets out to provide a bit of perimeter scouting to keep anyone from sneaking up on them while everyone is so vulnerable.

Especially Gearing.

After some time, the mechanical noises coming out of the repair bay stop. The others look expectantly at the door. Expecting some quick emergence. Like a doctor coming out to announce the baby’s been delivered or, more accurately, how a surgery went.

But they are left waiting, and wanting.

A few noises escape the door here and there, but nothing really descriptive. Nothing to give them a clue to what’s really going on. Most of it is muffled and rather quieted. Almost intentionally so.

Nahlah’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she takes her improvised helmet off as she slinks over to the door. She leans up near it, tilting her head, and listening carefully.

“What’re you doing, mmkay?” Gauge asks from his spot in the far corner between some filing cabinets and an overturned desk.

“Sshhhh.” She glares at him as she puts a single toe to her lips. She whispers in his general direction as she leans towards the door and her ears twitch, “I’m just seeing what’s going on.”

Her eyes zip back and forth as she tries to mentally picture what could be making the sounds. She leans in close, putting her ear to the door, and resting both paws on it, as she focuses on the sounds coming through the door.

Her eyes go wide, and she leans in against the door harder as she gets a goofy grin on her muzzle.

Handy walks up next to her and asks quietly, “What is it?”

“Well… I’m not sure… but... I think they’re done fixing him, and started some ummm.” She looks at Handy and grins widely. “Started some ‘quality’ time... together…”

“What?” Handy asks with a tilt of his head.

Nahlah narrows her eyes at him and says flatly, as he’s taken all the fun out of it, “Fucking… I think they’re fucking.”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he zips his head back and forth from looking at her to the door. “What?!”

Nahlah presses her ear to the door and looks around as she listens carefully. “There’s a lot of grunting and bumping… and… some of the things I can hear them say… yeah… that’s what it sounds like.”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes. “Just great, we’re stuck out here and those two are in there snogging it up.” He starts for the door and grumbles, “We don’t have time for this.”

Nahlah bats his hooves away and starts trying to keep him away from the door as she giggles, “Ohhh let them have their fun. She just got him back from the dead, she deserves a little flank slapping if that’s what she wants!”

Their struggles with the door escalate as Nahlah playfully keeps him away from the door. But, eventually, the door handle is pressed sufficiently enough that the door pops open and the pair stumble into the dark room beyond.

Gearing, with all of his equipment removed, stands on top of a few heavy steel shipping crates with his head practically laying sideways against the tongs of the cargo carrier. The only thing he seems to still be wearing, is a piece of helmet. On the left side of his head. As the rest of it has been cut away. Except for the piece around his left ear. A variety of metal strips and wire has been slipped under the piece of the helmet, and tightly bind it to the tongs of the cargo lifter.

As Nahlah and Handy pour into the room, their entrance is masked by a much louder noise that echoes out from the maintenance wing.

Gearing hits the ground, hard, after practically throwing himself away from the cargo bot with his forelegs in a gravity assisted plummet. But it’s not the impact he makes into the concrete floor of the repair bay that echoes throughout the industrial complex. Though the impact was substantial.

Gearing’s blood curdling and heart wrenching scream bellows out from his muzzle as he thrashes around on the ground and holds the left side of his face with his forehooves. He rolls back and forth, cradling his head as he struggles to try and both get control of himself, and onto his hooves.

“Hurry! Get it free! We don’t have long before it goes inert!” he yells out towards Sable as he’s still trashing around holding his head.

Neither of them notice the intrusion.

Sable, promptly, uses her cables to not only remove the piece of helmet from the cabling, but start cutting off what it was attached to with a dedicated fervor.

From their angle, and with the light almost directly below it, Nahlah and Handy can see the exceptionally shiny brass attached to the underside of the helmet fragment. As it shines with an otherworldly polish.

And slowly drips with some nearly transparent fluid in such a matter that it turns both of their stomachs just to see it.

Gearing climbs to his hooves slowly, by propping himself up with his hindlegs, and forelegs’ elbows, before getting entirely upright. “Sable, don’t worry about cutting it too much. Just get it separated.” He stands there holding the left side of his face and head with his left forehoof as he looks at her. “It’ll heal with treatment. But only if we get it back in place in time.”

He groans and lowers his left forehoof to walk slowly, even slower than before, towards Sable and more into the light. “We should have enough time.” He turns his head and looks towards the door, where he’s just now noticing the light pouring in.

And the two standing just inside of it. With the others huddled behind and peering through the doorway, having been drawn by his heart wrenching screams. And all of them are speechless as they stare with muzzles uniformly agape.

Given Gearing’s previous chemical treatment, most of his body had darkened considerably. In the current light setting he’s standing in, he blends in spectacularly. By design. Except for the places where he’s been scratched, gouged, or shot.

But none of the other injuries, not even his wings, are anything like what is being displayed, and practically highlighted, on the left side of his face. Instead of the dark chemical treatment there is a bright golden metallic color. Brass in its purest untainted form. All coated in an oily residue that continues to run down his face and drip onto the floor under him. But that’s not the shocking part.

Various gears, of many sizes, poke and prod out of his face. Plates set like small scales have been twisted and bent and pulled away like a failed attempt at scaling a fish. And his left eye glares out at them abnormally wide. Impossibly wide.

Except for someone that’s had their eyelids removed.

Even with their complete lack of understanding of his physiology, it becomes clear, on an instinctual level, that Gearing’s just had another massive injury. And has had practically half of his face ripped off himself. Leaving behind what they can only assume to be the clockwork version of bone and flesh. Fully exposed.

Gearing’s eyes zip back and forth across them as he asks quickly, “What do you want?”

No one responds.

Gearing begins shifting uneasily as he looks them over, and can’t break their unblinking line of sight. “Stop…” he says softly. “Stop looking at me.”

No one moves so much as a tail hair.

He backs away from them and turns his body to try and blend more into the shadows as he screeches out, “Stop looking at me!” He covers the side of his head with his forehoove as he huddles down and groans out. “Don’t look at me… please…”

Footnote: Connection reestablished, User Online, running diagnostic… please stand by. . .

Diagnostic in progress… please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter reveals a bit of information about the resident clockworks internal workings. More of that will be revealed as time goes along. But, for now, they have a lot to recuperate from.

Thanks again to my beta readers for helping me with this project and helping keep me on track!

As always, questions, comments, and critiques welcome and encouraged.

-Quillsy

**EDIT: Sorry about that! I was in such a rush to get the post out in time that part of the post didn't copy/paste correctly. Good thing I tend to check on it regularly. Sorry for the inconvenience!**

37 Freight Cars

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cloud Seed and Buck sit in a booth with their backs to the back corner of this cozy neighborhood pub. There are many others more well known. Larger. More frequented and with more options and services. But for someone simply wanting to enjoy a drink with their friends, away from crowds, this bar is perfect. A gem as far as ‘hole in the wall’ places are concerned. They both talk with the others that join them, with Cloud Seed being rather social, and an ultra shameless flirt.

One of the mares he’s flirting with puts a cherry in her mouth, stem and all, and spits out the stem tied in a knot, onto the table in front of Cloud Seed, as she wiggles her eyebrows at him and slowly sucks on the cherry.

He smirks and one of his friends leans back against their booth seat as they start laughing uncontrollably. Buck sips on his drink and watches as Cloud Seed gives him a telling grin.

“She’s got some talent.” Cloud Seed leans towards his vanilla friend as he asks, “Should I show her?”

“Ohhhh please do, Mr. Repairpony,” Buck snickers

Everyone looks at Cloud Seed and he wiggles his eyebrows as one of the mares raises an eyebrow and asks, “Repairpony?”

His buddy taps Cloud Seed on the shoulder and grins. “Oh yeah. Best technician Stable-Tec has on their payroll.”

They look at Cloud Seed and the mare swishes her tail as she asks, “You’re a Stable-Tec employee?”

Cloud Seed shrugs. “Contracted with them, yes. But I get sent wherever needed… Sometimes get loaned out to the ministries or other companies if something critical needs fixed or they’re having trouble tracking something down.” He waves a hoof and smirks. “Applejack’s ministry has her hoof in about every company… and resources are thin, so makes sense for Apple Bloom to want to help out as much as she can.” He raps on the table a couple times with his forhooves as he looks around. “Okay so… First I’m going to need this… empty that is.”

He grabs the wide mouthed liquor bottle from the center of the table and pours the rest of its contents into the cups that are scattered around the tabletop before he sets it back in front of himself. “Okay.” He pulls out a couple bits from his pocket and sets them on the table before looking around at the others as he points a wingtip at the stack of bits. “I’m going to put all of these into the bottle… Then stack them all while inside of the bottle… Kay?”

One of the mares leans over and grabs a bit as she looks at it and a mare unicorn rolls her eyes as she says, “Oh that’s not really proving anything.”

Cloud Seed points at his head than at hers. “No horn. I won’t be using any magic to do it.”

She purses her lips to the side as she regards him and Buck laughs then says with a snicker, “Their reaction’s going to be magic though.”

The earth pony mare looking at the bit frowns and holds it up. “Something funny with the money?”

Cloud Seed shrugs then uses a wing and holds the bottle up. “Put in your own bits then. Doesn’t matter… one each. The more in there the harder it’ll be.”

One of the stallions at the next table chuckles. “Oh… just a bit grift, eh?”

“You can have it back afterwards, if ya want.” Cloud Seed shrugs. “No bigs.”

His friend drops a bit into the bottle and grins widely at him. “And you can have mine, this is going to be worth the entertainment value alone!”

Cloud Seed grins and shrugs as he holds the bottle up. The group starts dropping bits in one at a time until eight coins sit muddled together at the bottom of the bottle. He takes his own coins and puts them away as he says, “Just so you don’t think it’s the coins.” He sets the bottle in front of himself as he looks around. He points at it with a wing and says, “Okay, now I’m going to stack them all.”

One of the stallions raises an eyebrow. “Well… his hoofs too big for it…”

The unicorn mare rolls her eyes. “He’s got wings you know… probably can do it with his feathers alone.”

Cloud Seed flashes up his wings then tucks them back as he waves with his forehooves. “No wings either.” That earns him quite a few stares. He looks around and grins at all of them as he stands up and leans over the bottle. “Ready?”

The unicorn mare waves at him with a forehoof lazily. “Yeah. Sure.”

He brushes his lime green mane out of his face and to keep it from blocking the view. Then he grabs and holds the bottle with his forehooves, and slowly puts his lips on the neck of it. He looks at the earth pony mare directly across from him and slowly starts sinking his mouth down. Cloud Seed maintains eye contact the entire time, curling his hooves around the bottle to block the view and help hold it in place. Until he’s practically kissing the table. Movement catches his eye behind one of the bigger earth stallion gawkers and he sees a lime green young buck step around and stare wide eyed at the table.

The lime buck had been behind the group and had only started catching parts of the conversation and scene, but now it makes perfect sense to him and he starts quickly changing colors. Especially as Cloud Seed looks him right in the eye as the tinkling of metal against glass escapes his snoot. The lime green buck flushes from head to hoof before Cloud Seed gives him a wink.

He might as well have kicked the poor young buck.

The lime green buck’s head flies back as blood spurts from his nose, and he quickly stumbles out of sight to take care of his nose bleed.

Cloud Seed goes back to watching the others at his table as the tinkling in the bottle continues. Collectively the crowd’s eyes seem to get wider. Several of them start fidgeting, especially the earth pony mare directly across from him. A moment later he pulls back off the bottle, keeping his hooves in place hiding the bottle while he’s looking at his small audience.

He pulls his hooves back as he says, “Ta-daaaa.” He wipes a bit of dribble from his mouth as they all stare at the bottle in front of him. All eight coins, stacked neatly, in the exact center greet them. The unicorn mare looks up at Cloud Seed from the bottle, catches eye contact, and then blushes furiously as many thoughts seem to run through her head simultaneously.

The earth pony mare looks up at him with a smirk and shakes her head. “Nuh uh…. Not buying it.” She hops mostly over the table, grabs Cloud Seed’s cheeks with her forehooves, and starts giving him a deep tongued kiss.

Cloud Seed’s caught off guard and slides back a bit as she slides across the table and kisses him. But, as she starts pulling back, he gets a smirk on his face, then reaches up with his hooves, grabs her cheeks, and starts kissing her back.

Her eyes bug out and stare into his as he tilts his muzzle and digs in deeper. She’s unable to say anything, given the circumstance, but manages to mumble, “Mmmph!” She starts twitching and jerking lightly as he continues his onslaught. By the second time she manages an audible “MmmmMuah” her hooves have fallen limply from his cheeks. A moment later she’s gone completely limp and still, except for random twitching across her body, as Cloud Seed partially closes his eyes and looks into hers. When her audible noises are coming in time with her shivers in little weak sounding bouts of “MMmm…. Mmph” he finally pulls back and gently lays her head down on the table in front of himself as she lays there and pants.

Buck starts having a problem staying in his seat as he sits there laughing and nearly hyperventilating. “Welp… that doesn’t happen often though,” he says as he continues to snicker.

Of the others, the only one that’s managed to keep their jaw off the floor is the unicorn mare, who’s only managed it by biting her lower lip hard enough that a tickle of blood has started down her chin.

The earth pony mare on the table pants a bit as she looks up at Cloud Seed and grins. “So… your magic’s in your muzzle, huh?”

His friend falls out of the booth laughing as Cloud Seed simply shrugs with both of his forehooves in the air and to the side as he grins at her.

She looks him over and asks as she gives a swish of her tail. “So… Mr. Repairpony… Got time in your busy schedule to make a house call? I’m having some real concerns and could use your expert advice on pipes…”

Cloud Seed sits back down and looks at her at nearly eye level as he grins. “I think that could be arranged.”

“Oh?” she coos.

“Mmm hmm.”

She partially rolls sideways and uses a hoof to flop her foreleg around the unicorn mare’s shoulders. “Mind if I bring an assistant?”

The unicorn mare’s eyes bug out as she starts turning a variety of cute shades. Which only gets worse as Cloud Seed looks over at her and makes hard eye contact as he takes a drink from his appletini.

“Hmmm.” While staring the unicorn in the eye he darts his tongue into the bottom of the glass and fetches the olive from the bottom. He pulls the glass away and shows the olive, with the orange pit still in the center, being held in his lips, before the pimento pit disappears and he wiggles his eyebrows at her. “I’m used to loooong double shifts.” He gives the unicorn mare a wink. “A little magic goes a long way too…”

The unicorn mare’s eyes go to their widest before she slowly starts to sink to the floor, like she’d been inflatable and someone just pulled the plug. Her friend leans over the table and giggles down at her as she pokes her repeatedly on the shoulder with a loosely hanging forehoof.

Buck climbs back up to his feet as he points at the pair. “Dammit, Cloud Seed, you keep spilling mare everywhere and they’re going to charge us for just walking in the door!”

Cloud Seed opens his mouth to say something, but his PipBuck chimes. He looks at it and frowns as he says with a sigh. “Dammit… work calls.”

The earth pony mare lifts her head and stares at him with her mouth hanging open. “You can’t be serious!”

Cloud Seed nods. “Sorry. That’s the downside to being ‘on call’.” He downs the rest of his appletini and starts scooting by Buck. “Sorry to drink and run, but I gotta go see what they need.”

The earth pony mare slams her forehooves on the table repeatedly, almost like a foal tantrum. “This ain’t fair!” As Cloud Seed is walking around the table she asks softly, “Can’t I at least get another kiss?”

Cloud Seed looks at her, then at his friend and gives him a mischievous grin. He continues walking by, but then leans over and plants a kiss, right on her cutie mark, as she stares at him in disbelief. As he’s walking away he chuckles, “That’s for good luck!”

She stares at him with mouth agape for a moment before slamming her forehooves on the table again, repeatedly, in frustration. Then she bites on one of her own forelegs and uses it to muffle her various screams and obscenities as Cloud Seed makes his way to the door.

As Cloud Seed’s opening the door, the last thing he hears is her near sobbing moan, “Fuckn’ tease!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“… treatment seems to be effective.” Sable’s voice comes from the darkness softly. “I do not know enough of his physiology to determine what lasting effects there will be.” She adds with a frustrated sigh.

“But… what was that?” Nahlah asks softly.

“I do not know, Subject Nahlah.”

“And you throwing us out, then throwing a workbench at the door to keep us out? What as that about?” Handy asks from decidedly further away.

“As you said, Subject Handy Hooves, to keep you out. We were on a tight time table according to what Gearing had said.”

“I don’t understand why though,” Swift adds. “Even amputated limbs have longer viability than what you were working with. Even without magic. So, why the rush when you were already working on it?”

Gearing opens his eyes, and is only able to peer out through the one. Most of his head, left eye included, is surrounded in a healing bandage. And, judging by the tingle he’s feeling, they must be magically infused. Though he’s not sure where they managed to get their hooves on one of those, given he had none in his cache.

“I’m not organic,” Gearing grumbles by opening his muzzle just enough to speak. “I’m a clockwork.”

The rest of the group turns to look at him from their position around the small electric light. Except Handy. He’s a respectable distance further away from everyone else.

Swift looks over at him and smiles lightly. “That’s not exactly a secret, just looking at you, Gearing.” She shakes her head and waves a hoof towards him. “But what’s that got to do with this procedure?”

Gearing lets out a long disgruntled sigh, but decides to just stay lying on the floor. Moving is too much effort at the moment. So he looks at them and replies, “Organic tissue is alive. Every cell. It has its own life, and will continue as long as it can. Even beyond that, it can be coaxed back to life with magic or treatment. As long as conditions are right. Even so, necrotic tissue has to be removed, or it’ll make the healthy tissue around it die.”

“Aaaaannnd?” Nahlah asks as she’s trying very hard to follow along with the train of thought.

“My body isn’t made of living cells. My body is made of metal that has been magically infused to allow it to grow and repair.” He shrugs. “At least that’s the running theory…” He closes his eyes and tries to listen around him, but his left ear is still feeling muffled, though it is also the side facing the ground and in a cocoon of healing bandages at the moment. He opens his eyes and looks at them as he says flatly, “If any part of me is disconnected from the rest. If it doesn’t reconnect. If it stays isolated, and too far from me… it’ll go inert.”

Handy points back and forth between him and Sable. “You and Sable keep saying that, what’s this ‘inert’ business?”

Gearing weakly shrugs his right shoulder. “Just as it sounds… inert.” He shakes his head. “It won’t be a clockwork piece anymore… it’ll be nothing more than a simple hunk of metal.” He points a hoof at himself and comments, “Brass in my case… but… it’ll never be able to be reattached again. Whatever connects it to me will be severed… my… soul? I guess? If you believe in that shit.” He shrugs again. “The magic will be gone from it… like a dead spark battery.” He waves a hoof around dismissively. “Never to be charged, or useful, again…”

He stares at the others and frowns as he adds, “And the time it takes for it to go inert, and stay that way, is far shorter than organic tissue dying… so… yeah… another perk of being an organic…” He closes his eyes and mutters, “Bastards…”

Sable walks over and lies down next to him, tucking her legs under herself as she uses a cable to begin caressing him. “How are you feeling, my love?”

“Like I had a fucking building dropped on me,” Gearing grumbles as he slowly tries to gather enough willpower to get back up to his hooves.

Sable rubs his shoulder, and starts trailing the cable up and down his sides as she comments, “I followed your instructions, and continued working. I reshaped your wings after completing the reattachment procedure. And, finally, began applying healing potions.”

“How are they?” Gearing asks, though he’s genuinely worried about the answer.

“Prep work seemed to be beneficial in coaxing the potion to focus on crystal growth and mending damaged metal framework.” She rubs a cable gently over his wings, and he can feel, to his great relief, the gentle caress as it passes over his unique stained glass wings. “Although, only actual testing can determine if they’ve recovered enough for flight.”

Gearing gives a bit of a groan, but starts stretching out his wings. Straight up. Fanning them out and moving them around as he stretches them and checks them for functionality.

Nahlah’s eyes go wide and she starts clapping quietly as she watches the various twinkles of light coming from his wings as Gearing manipulates them. She’d seen how his wings were before, and has been worried. She couldn’t fathom how anyone could come back from such injuries.

Handy walks closer to the group and asks, “So, we’ve burned most of the day. We going to try and crash here for the night, or continue on?”

Swift looks over at Gearing and shrugs. “I think that should depend on Gearing. If he’s travel worthy. He’s been through a lot.”

Sable nods and looks at Swift. “As if getting his wings shot up with a minigun, and a building dropped on his head wasn’t bad enough. Somepony managed to wedge a bunch of small balls of lead into his gears and plates.” She points a cable at Gearing and frowns. “He was not very cooperative in letting me dig them out.”

“They were itchy!” Gearing says defensively.

“All the more reason to get them out,” Sable counters. “They were impeding free gear movement and causing hitches. They needed to be removed like any foreign contaminate.”

Swift looks back and forth and puts a hoof to her chin as she thinks it over.

Gearing looks over at Swift, and decides to hurry things along. He lifts himself up, entirely, with his wings and performs a few wingups before casually lowering his legs and standing up with his hooves. “If you’re wanting to hang out here. Go for it. But no reason to stay on my account.” He sits down and gives it a dismissive wave of a forehoof as he grins.

But the effect of a nonchalant attitude is pretty much ruined given he can only look out at them with a single eye and his head being tightly bound in bandages.

Swift frowns as she looks at him and his sad attempt. She looks over at Nahlah for some form of support. Nahlah gives a double shoulder shrug as she says, “If he’s sure he can go on… He’d know better than anyone, wouldn’t he?”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “I can fight. And better than I could before treatment. As long as I don’t get another building dropped on me, I should be fine.”

Handy waves a hoof over towards Gearing. “Well… there we go… and the sooner we get going the sooner we can get back home.”

Gearing takes that cue to walk over to the pile of supplies and start sorting through them. Sable walks over to him and says apologetically, “I am sorry, but many of your supplies were destroyed, or lost during the conflict. We brought what we could here.”

Gearing nods as he starts loading up with his saddle bags and most of his gear. Though, he doesn’t put on his modified combat armor. It’s so damaged currently that what little protection it would offer wouldn’t be worth the liability it’d cause just having it on. He needs to repair it, and now is not the time for that. They need to get further along before he even attempts that. If he can make it to Megamart without too much more interference he’s sure he can either remanufacture this set, or, maybe, simply get another one.

The advantage of losing some of their supplies and salvage is they have less to carry. Though that is a small comfort when the thought of how much value was probably lost in the exchange creeps out of the shadows and points out the disparity.

As the others are heading out of the door, Sable stops Gearing with a restraining cable on his shoulder. He turns to look at her and raises his on uncovered eyebrow. “What’s up?”

She steps up closer to him and says flatly, “While you were unconscious, I used your PipBuck to monitor the radio waves and try to gather some information about our surroundings.”

Gearing grins at her. “Smart cookie…” He tilts his head and asks, “Anything of note? I guess so, or you wouldn’t have said anything?”

Sable nods and points at his PipBuck with her cable. “Given our recent conversations, and those you’ve had with others. I believe I have uncovered relevant data.”

Gearing sits down and waves a hoof at her to continue. “And, what would that be?”

“You seemed to take an interest in the pony known as ‘The Stable Dweller’, is that correct?” Gearing bobs his head around then nods. “I’m sorry to report. That, according to a radio transmission by one referred to as ‘DJ Pon3’, the Stable Dweller has prematurely terminated.”

Gearing lowers his hoof and asks softly, “How?”

Sable points towards his PipBuck again. “According to DJ Pon3, her life was prematurely terminated when she rescued a number of slaves from their captures. The slaves managed to escape the slavers, but the Stable Dweller sacrificed herself to make sure they got to safety.” She tilts her head and offers, “Perhaps she provided rearguard during the retreat, and was eventually overwhelmed? I am sorry, the information is rather lacking on the specifics. But the outcome seems to be confirmed.”

Gearing closes his eye slowly as he lowers his head. He shakes his head and lets out a soft grumble, “Didn’t I just tell Breaker Bar that all the heroes I knew of were dead?” He lets out a sigh. “Well… there goes another. Would have liked to meet somepony like that. That grew up with this world and didn’t just wake up in it. Yet still managed to allow some common decency in her existence. Enough to actually do something.” He shakes his head and stands up as he looks at Sable. “I guess that just leaves Security, huh?” He turns and starts heading out the door as he grumbles, “Start getting known. And you eventually get a target on your back. A price on your head even.” He shakes his head and scowls. “Someone tries that shit with me, and I’ll flip the script.”

He looks sideways and sees the curious look on Sables face. He grins and strikes his typical high-winged light-shattering pose. Though the effect is hampered with stiffness and bandages. “I mean I’ll go after them first.” He chuckles then starts heading out the door. “Win… Cheat if you have to… Can’t stop the mooks from showing up? Take out the boss who’s sending them. Remove their reason for fighting. Boom. Problem solved.”

They continue out, with Sable grabbing the minigun from the table as they pass, and, once they are outside, see that the rest of the group is waiting and conversing with a pair of Freight Cars members.

Orchid turns to look at the new arrivals and her eyes go wide. She points a hoof at Gearing as she looks at Silver Shoes. “Look! Look! His wings! They’re green! That’s so kool!” She trots in his direction and starts looking them over. To which Gearing obliges and flutters and fans out his wings for her to get a better view. Including giving another piss-poor high wing showing.

Silver Shoes lifts her hat to look him over as she says, “They certainly look better than they did earlier.” Then she nods her head down the lane. “You wanna fly ahead or stick with the rest of us?”

Gearing turns and starts heading the direction indicated as he shakes his head. “Nah. I’m not flying for a while. Gotta let them settle more before I try anything too crazy… like hauling my fat ass around.”

As they are being lead through the alleyways and streets of the industrial complex, they pass a segment of wall that’s familiar to Sable. Mainly for the fact that there’s less wall currently there than there was this morning.

Sable uses a spare cable and partially taps, partially rubs, Gearing’s shoulder to get his attention. As he’s turning his head to look at her she asks, “Gearing, some of your ‘equalizers’ may need to be examined. I’m afraid some may have been damaged during the crash.”

Gearing’s eye goes wide and he asks, “What? Why do you say that? What happened?”

Sable points at the wall and replies, “I used one of them on a group of hostiles. But, the timer was much longer than I expected.” She turns back to look at him and frowns. “They almost got away before it detonated.”

Gearing raises his undamaged eyebrow. “The lunchbox?”

“Yes!” Gauge bellows. “The limited edition Stable-Tec lunchbox! How could you do that, mmkay?!” Gauge whines.

Gearing spares him a simple glance before looking back at Sable. “That was by design. It wasn’t made to be a trap. It was a demo charge.” He waves a hoof as he rattles out, “For taking out columns, joists, vehicles, or other support structures.” He continues walking. “The timer was a bit longer for enough time to get away from the blast.”

Sable nods and continues walking alongside him as she says, “Ah. That was one of the ideas I had. But I was not sure. Thank you for the confirmation.” He simply smiles and nods. A few moments later she asks, “Are you upset that I used your equipment? I apologize if that is the case.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and leans sideways, bumping into her gently, as he says, “Far from it. I made them to be used. If you needed to use them to keep yourself safe. Well, I consider that an exceptionally good investment.” He leans over and nuzzles her cheek with his as he says softly, “Your safety and wellbeing are more important to me than any stupid possession.”

Sable happily trots in place for a few moments before bounding back up next to him and asking, “Is my darling Gearing feeling better? How are you recovering?”

Gearing sighs a bit and waves a hoof up towards his face. “Won’t know for sure until after I take the bandages off… but the rest of me is doing well enough.”

“Well enough?” She looks at him sideways and extends a spare cable towards him. She asks with a slight giggle, “Fooooor … ?” She uses the cable to start caressing his sides and back around his wings, ending with a firm groping of his backside.

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he lets out a cough, then hops with a jump as she gives his flank a playful smack. He leans over, applying a bit more of his weight than he would normally, as he nuzzles along her length. “For you? Tonight?” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and says softly, “Most definitely…”

Silver Shoes trots by at a faster speed as she grumbles, “Get a room, you two…”

Sable perks up and looks over at Silver Shoes. “Is there one available? Now?”

Swift flutters over head as she laughs, “Don’t encourage those two! Really!”

“Not unless you want to be out here listening to them go at it all night!” Nahlah chimes in.

Gearing rolls his eyes and dismisses it with a hoof wave. “We’re not that bad.”

Sable nods. “My Gearing is correct, we are not that bad.” Then she grins at Silver Shoes and adds, “We’re that goooood.” She waves a hoof towards Gearing and says flatly, “Well, he is anyway… I’m still trying to catch up and calibrate appropriately.”

Silver Shoes shakes her head, then she pauses and her ears start rotating. “What’s that noise?”

Gearing picks up speed as he lowers his head and tries to get out of the line of fire from the conversation.

Sable looks at Silver Shoes and smiles. “My darling Gearing has a cute little quirk…” She looks at Gearing’s steadily advancing form and smiles even wider. “His ears whistle when he’s embarrassed.”

Orchid puts a hoof to her muzzle as she says in a voice that turns into a practical squeak, “That’s so adorable!”

“Confirmed!”

They continue through the industrial complex at a steady pace. For once, and to Gauge’s relief at least, the complex is quiet. The fierce fighting is over, and now the complex has returned to a deathly quiet.

Fitting given the number of corpses that liter it now.

Silver Shoes leads them to the primary encampment of the Freight Cars. Despite any previous thoughts, it is far closer than any of them had anticipated.

Gearing recognizes the facility at even a quick glance. Not this one in particular, but the format and layout were pretty standard. It’s a train switching station. A transport hub where goods and creatures alike pass through on their way to other areas. This one being built here probably pulled double duty by helping to expedite delivery of whatever items that were made in the surrounding factories. Whether they were items of war, or general merchandise for the population, keeping the flow moving was always important.

The large area is surrounded by both a fence, and tall cement walls. The administration office makes an excellent housing option and, Gearing realizes, the walls meant to impede espionage, function spectacularly to keep most of the wasteland out. The place is a natural refuge. It makes perfect sense on why they’d pick it as a place to set up their base of operations.

Train tracks go in a variety of directions, and lead off to where he knows a giant turntable rests for turning trains and track switching. Most of the tracks have cars on them, some sitting isolated, others still linked together. All of them seem to be converted into some sort of mobile housing or, possibly, shops. He’s not sure. But many of them have a variety of signs on them that he knows were not standard issue on Equestrian Railways train cars.

Instead of having the front gates closed, they are wide open, and a variety of Freight Cars members mill about at the old public train station building. But all of them, despite their casual manner, are paying close attention to everything, and everyone, around them. They may be atypical guards, but they’re not someone to underestimate.

Silver Shoes yells through a customer service window into the back office as they are passing, “Where’s Conductor?”

“Check the admin building. I don’t know. Hell. Why?” an annoyed voice comes from the back.

Silver Shoes pauses and leans her head back to glare through the window as she says with a smirk, “Cuz I got Iron Hoof and need to make some introductions…”

An older unicorn stallion with his horn causing his conductor’s hat to perch precariously on his brow jerks his head out of an office door and stares at Silver Shoes through the window. His eyes zip back and forth, trying to see through the window, and catching glimpses of various figures passing behind her. Figures not wearing Freight Cars’ normal uniform. He nods rapidly and adds, “Administration building. If not there, check the pits. Lots of folks trying to impress Big Daddy while he’s here.”

Silver Shoes heads out of the station’s back door and starts leading them through the practical maze of train cars.

The group barely gets out of the train station before a chuckling voice comes out of the shadows nearby, “What’s this, Silver Shoes? Get some fresh meat?”

They all turn and see a large light purple unicorn mare step out of the shadows towards them. She’s so buff, with ridiculous muscle definition across her entire form, that the conductor’s jacket she is wearing is straining against the buttons and threatening to rip at any moment. Despite looking like it was tailored for some earth pony buck.

Silver Shoes looks at her and narrows her eyes as she says curtly, “Glimmer, they’re guests of Conductor, and Big Daddy…”

Glimmer walks over slowly, each step slow and deliberate as she examines them all one by one. “Is that so?” She pauses and turns as she faces Gauge, “Well hello there, gorgeous… what’re you doing back here all by your lonesome?”

Swift and Nahlah look at each other and simultaneously raise an eyebrow as they mouth, in unison, ‘Gorgeous? Him?’ and point a respective forelimb in his direction.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Glimmer asks as she starts slowly walking around him and taking in the view from various angles before stopping and sitting in front of him.

“Gauge… My name’s Gauge…mmkay?”

“Mmmkay with me, sweetness.” She leans in and asks in his ear, “How would you like a personal tour… Gauge?”

“Glimmer, don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Silver Shoes warns.

Glimmer looks over at her, then rolls her eyes as she waves a hoof dismissively and says, “I wasn’t planning on hurting him. Well… not unless he’s into playing a bit rough.” She reaches over and slaps Gauge on the rear, causing him to jump. “He’s a cutie.” She leans over and gives his cheek a kiss. “What do ya say, Gauge?”

Gauge turns and looks up at the mare. And up some more. Until he’s looking into the eyes of someone that’s more than a full head taller than him. He stares into her eyes then gives a crooked smile as he stutters, “S- sure… mmkay?”

“Mmkay,” she repeats before leaning down and giving him a muzzleful of her tongue. While he’s still stupefied, she flops him across her back and starts quickly trotting off as she says, “This one’s mine for the next hour, don’t bother knocking, I won’t answer.” Before she practically sprints off through the maze of train cars.

Gearing looks back and forth as he asks, “Should… we be concerned about that?”

Even the little blue pegasus in his head is conflicted as it looks at the detailed plans it has on the wall behind it and shrugs.

Silver Shoes tilts her head and says softly, “I’m… I’m not sure… honestly…”

“She’s usually more interested in fighting and breaking bones than a romp in the hay,” Orchid adds. She shakes her head and points off in the general direction they’d gone. “In all the time I’ve known her, that’s the fist I’ve even heard of something like that.”

Silver Shoes shrugs. “I thought she was one of those ‘fighting is sex’ types… this is a bit of a mind job for me too.”

Nahlah rubs her chin and asks, “Could she be coming into her cycle?” She looks at the other two Freight Cars members. “That could explain it?”

All of them turn to look at Handy and Gearing.

“Why you looking at me for?” Handy asks defensively.

Silver Shoes grins. “Figured an expert male opinion would be able to chime in with an answer.”

“Or nose, more specifically,” Nahlah adds with a grin of her own.

“I’m married…” Handy says lamely.

“And?” They all ask at the same time. Even Swift. Though she does it with a coy grin.

Gearing shrugs and shakes his head. “It doesn’t have the same effect on me as it does on other bucks, either way, obviously. But, I didn’t pick anything up.”

Swift and Nahlah look over at him and raise an eyebrow. And Gearing takes a step back as he looks between them. “Hey… my sense of smell’s just fine. And I know what a smell is even if it doesn’t do anything for me otherwise. Including that.”

Orchid looks at him and frowns as she asks, “Why? Gay?” She tuts at such a waste.

Sable scoffs, “As if!” She leans over and runs a lick up his cheek before starting to give increasingly deeper kisses.

Gearing goes along with it for a moment, before separating and kissing her on the cheek as he says quietly, “Later, I promise.” He gets a slap on the flank with a cable in return. He turns his attention to Orchid and smirks. “No… I’m just not organic… Can’t have the same biological problems, if you don’t have a biology.”

Orchids eyes go wide and she puts a hoof to her mouth as she says softly, “You poor thing!”

Silver Shoes nods and looks him over as she mutters, “Poor bastard…”

“Thanks… ? I think?” Gearing mutters before the group is led off towards the administration building again.

And towards their next challenge.

Footnote: Connection reestablished, User Online, running diagnostic… please stand by. . .

Diagnostic in progress… please stand by. . .

Massive Damage Registered… Hydra Matrix on Standby

38 Be Our Guest

Silver Shoes and Orchid lead the way for Swift and company through the train yard. Minus Gauge, as he’s currently in the clutches of a very large, and very enthusiastic, mare named Glimmer.

The jury is still out on what should be expected of that situation.

As they are climbing the short steps to the old administration building, the set of double wooden doors at the top are already wide open. Freight Cars members loiter around, both inside and out, talking to each other as they drink from various bottles. Sparkle Cola. Beer. Wild Pegasus. Plain water: radiation levels unknown. Something for any taste it seems.

Though, as they make their way inside, the chatter, and other actions, die down rapidly. Until the entryway is dead silent except for the slow hoof beats of Silver Shoes and the entourage following her. They all give the new arrivals their undivided attention.

New arrivals are a curiosity, if nothing else, here. But they’re common enough. Ponies coming to try and join. Ponies paying respects to Conductor. Ponies wishing to negotiate travel rights. All of that is regular fodder for their days, and nothing new.

But this group is different, and every single one of them knows it.

They’d been on the lookout and alert since Big Daddy had stopped by on his way back to the Hoofington arena. And once a single member of Iron Hoof’s group was found, word spread like wildfire through the ranks. And once Iron Hoof herself was confirmed to be in the area, there were nearly fights on who would get to escort her in.

But all of that was quelled by Conductor. They were under strict orders to give Swift, and her group, as much time as they wished to get there. There was no rushing them. If nothing else, it gave them all a sense of anticipation and just made the waiting almost exciting.

For if somepony was special enough to warrant Big Daddy himself to want to see her fight again, the Freight Cars knew it was something not to miss. Many, for various reasons, some obvious, were jealous of the attention. Not in a spiteful way, though. In a very respectful way that’s hard for most to understand. In the kind of way that they have found a new goal to achieve. A rival to try and best.

Because if some nopony out of the wastes can cause enough of a ruckus, in a single fight, to draw Big Daddy’s eye, surely they could achieve the same with enough hard work.

As they are approaching a door on the back left wall, with the old ‘Auditorium’ sign hanging on above it by nothing more than a stubborn nail and a bite of wire, Orchid’s horn glows as she remotely opens the way. Various laughter and chatter pour out of the Auditorium the second the door is open and shatters the silence of the entryway.

“Of all the names you’d pick, I can’t believe you’d choose ‘No Shoes’,” an older mare’s voice rises above the laughter.

“Hey, it’s my name. And soon enough everyone’s going to know it!” a buck retorts.

“It ain’t your given name, I know that much! Why’d you pick it anyway?! Sounds dumb,” another mare remarks.

“Cuz I’m tough enough that I don’t need no shoes. I’ve pummeled everypony dumb enough to challenge me so far. And one more win and I’ll be in!” the buck yells over everyone with more than a hint of pride in his voice. There’s a bit of laughter and cheering as glasses clash into each other as they toast the possibility.

“Yeah, what do ya want, Silver Shoes?” the older mare’s voice asks mid laugh.

Silver shoes nods behind her as she says flatly, “I brought her, Conductor.”

There’s a near hiccup sound, followed by a gagging cough as the same voice, now a bit raspy, yells, “Well don’t just stand there like a fool, bring’er in!”

Silver Shoes steps in and to the side as she motions for the group to follow.

Swift leads the way, taking in the view of everyone in the room quickly, as she tries to figure out who’s in charge. Likewise all of the occupants turn and carefully examine the new arrivals. Several of which spend a lot of time lingering their view over Gearing and Sable. Though, given their armaments, it’s understandable.

What was once an auditorium for the train’s administration building, where large meetings were once held, has been turned into a lounge of sorts. The back wall has a line of shelves full of liquor, and a mare unicorn playing bartender. Everywhere else is a variety of furniture and cushions for those invited to sit and relax.

Practically in the center of it all, closer to the back wall, is a massive pile of cushions, with a pony that Gearing is quite certain is the one in charge. The large maroon unicorn mare, with the largest gut he’s seen this side of the war, lounges backwards on the pile of pillows and puffs on an elongated pipe as she regards the new arrivals. The watermelon pink mane spilling out from her conductor’s hat curls and plays around her foreleg as she uses her hoof to hold the pipe. Notably instead of using her magic to do so. She has her hind legs propped up on what looks like a wheel from a train, and rocks it side to side slowly as she looks them over.

She takes a long drag from her pipe before tilting her head back and slowly blowing it up into the air above herself as her eyes travel from one of the new arrivals to the next. After trailing her eyes back and forth, she locks eyes with Swift and asks, “So you’re this Iron Hoof everypony’s been raving about recently?”

Swift smirks and waves her forehoof dismissively. “I don’t know about raving… but Iron Hoof’s what they started to call me since the tourney, yes.”

The maroon mare grins and blows out the end of her smoke trail before turning to face Swift and taking another long drag from her pipe. Her horn glows and the cloud of smoke above her shifts and forms until it reads like a bubbly banner that declares ‘Welcome!’ on her behalf. As she starts blowing out another burst of smoke from her nostrils she pauses just long enough to reply, “I’m the Conductor, pleasure to meet you.”

Swift nods towards her then her eyes drift over to the couch where a single individual sits, capitalizing the entire thing for himself, and smoking on a cigar. “So, about this fight I was told about?” Big Daddy reclines back into the couch more as he grins at her, but says nothing yet. “I came all this way, when can we get started?”

The Conductor starts laughing as she sputters the smoke from her muzzle. She looks over at Big Daddy and comments, “Spunky gus, ain’t she?”

“She my next fight?” a dark grey earth pony stallion asks with a grin. The voice matches the so called ‘No Shoes’ they’d heard when they were walking in. And, true to his name, he’s not wearing any shoes. Or anything else for that matter as he sits on the stone floor. Rocking out with his mark out.

“Nah, she’s mine. I’m next on the list,” an orange unicorn mare near the Conductor chimes in, and reveals herself as the one that’d been chiding No Shoes about his chosen name when they entered.

“Yup, and one of you two are going to go on to a fight in the Arena, so you’d better make it a good show,” Big Daddy adds as he grins around his cigar.

No Shoes folds his forelegs across his chest and huffs as he leans back and practically uses the buck sitting behind himself as a reclining seat, “Figures. Goldfish gets all the fun.”

Conductor chuckles as she’s exhaling her latest puff from her pipe, giving a very good impression of a train chugging along. And no magic required. “Throw on the breaks, No Shoes, you’ve only got one more wannabe to fight and it won’t be long before someone else challenges ya.”

No Shoes looks over at her sideways and chuckles. “Fat chance of that happening. Would have to be some idiot at this point that’s not from around here.”

Gearing looks sideways at Handy and hopes he doesn’t share in his wife’s ego-stroking self-gratifying desires.

He’s doomed, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments. And, for once, Gearing can’t entirely disagree with him.

Gearing turns his head and darts his eye back and forth between Conductor and Big Daddy. “So, when’s this shindig going down? I got shit to do. If everything else wasn’t bad enough, now my armor’s fucked, so I’m going to have to fix that as well.”

Big Daddy looks him over and asks as he’s holding the cigar on the end of his hoof, displaying a paragon level of earth pony hoof dexterity, “So what happened to you? Ya look like shit. I said I’d love to watch you fight… Anything that was able to do that to you must have been a sight to see.”

No Shoe’s glances over at Big Daddy and starts rubbing his chin as he looks over at Gearing.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Conductor says as she takes a long drag from her pipe and looks at Bid Daddy. Big Daddy looks over at her expectantly as he starts drawing from his own cigar. And Conductor grins as she takes that exact moment to finish, “He had a fucking building dropped on him.” Big Daddy sucks in a big burst of air and instantly starts hacking and coughing, causing Conductor to start laughing at her perfectly timed prank.

Big Daddy knocks the extra air out of his lungs and looks over at Gearing, with his glasses down. Peering at Gearing with his glowing eyes.

“Not the whole thing. Just the eleventh floor… About half of that really… maybe a bit more,” Gearing corrects with a wave of his hoof.

“Oh, is that all? Only half of an entire floor of an office complex?” Conductor starts chuckling as she repeats her train impersonation with her pipe smoke. She rocks the train wheel back and forth with her hindlegs as she looks at Gearing. “I heard you looked like some Nightmare Moon monstrosity when you climbed out of the rubble.” She temporarily holds the pipe aloft with her magic, and she uses her forehooves to wave and flutter in front of herself, as she adds, “Spider webbed wings of death and all.” She grabs the pipe with her hoof again and finishes with a grin around the mouth piece. “And all it did was piss you off, judging by the mess you made of those Wild Ones dumbasses.”

Orchid scrunches her nose and nods. “I can confirm how messy he can be.”

Silver Shoes starts laughing as she points back at Gearing with a forehoof. “He actually apologized for making a mess!”

The orange mare near Conductor leans forward and covers her face with her forehoof as she asks, “Did… did I just hear that right?” She points and waves the same hoof at Gearing as she looks at Conductor. “He got in a fight with the eleventh floor of that office building… and won?”

Nahlah grins wide enough that her eyes close as she shrugs with both of her forepaws up in the air at her sides. “Sounds like a typical Gearing move, yeah…” The rest of the auditorium erupts into laughter as Gearing slowly looks over at Nahlah and narrows his eyes at her. Nahlah returns his stare, and sticks her tongue out at him before commenting, “Deny it if you want to, won’t change nothing. Hard Head.”

Conductor grins as she asks, “Should I set up a fight for you too, then? Seems pretty unanimous that you’d put on a good show.”

Big Daddy leans sideways on the couch and looks at Gearing. “I think you should. I’d love to see it.”

No Shoes’ head zips over to look at Big Daddy again and he starts grinning as he slowly turns to look at Gearing.

Gearing waves it away and starts letting his eye drift around the room. “Not interested. Like I’d told Big Daddy before, I fight when I need to. Not to show off.”

Big Daddy frowns and lets out a puff of smoke from his cigar. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

No Shoes, likewise, seems disappointed.

Conductor shrugs as she directs her attention to Swift. “Well, we’ll get one of the rings set up for a bout.” She waves over towards a few unoccupied cushions nearby. “Come on, take a load off. Rest. Enjoy yourself… You hungry? Thirsty?” She waves her pipe over towards the bar. “We’ve got plenty, just let Pickles at the bar know and she’ll get you whatever you want.”

“I don’t really drink, but thanks,” Swift comments as she starts walking over towards the indicated pile of cushions. Handy follows close behind as he continuously looks around the room at the other ponies.

“Not my thing. Have fun, Swift.” Gearing comments. He turns and starts heading back out the door as he says, “You run into any problems, just let me know.”

Conductor chuckles and waves it away with a dismissive limp hoof waggle. “She’ll be perfectly fine. Guests, regardless of their own ability, are always protected, and never harmed.” She takes a drag of her pipe and lets the smoke out of her nostrils before she says with a grin, “We have a reputation to keep, after all…”

Gearing looks at her with his one eye sideways. “Uh huh, sure.” His eye darts back over towards Swift. “You know how to get a hold of me.” He continues out with Sable following close at his side.

Nahlah bounds after him as she grins and yells, “Hey! I think I saw a bar on the way in. Let’s go check it out!”

“Why, hungry?” Gearing asks as he watches her run around him.

Nahlah waves it away and frowns. “Pfft, food aside, bars are great for picking up tips and stories. Never know when you’ll find something song worthy!”

Gearing chuckles and waves a hoof at her. “What? Getting shot out of the air and crash landing isn’t song worthy?”

Nahlah scrunches her muzzle to the side and sticks her tongue out in disgust. “Not really, no. That just sucked.”

Gearing looks over at her and raises an eyebrow. “What are you looking for then?”

Nahlah grins wide and starts pattering away with rhythmic swishes of her tail as she starts humming to herself. “I’ll know it when I hear iiiiit.”

After they’ve left, Conductor takes a long drag from her pipe and snorts it out in Gearing’s direction before turning to look at Swift. “He’s a real pistol, ain’t he?”

“He can be really moody,” Handy says with a frown as he looks at the door they’d left through. “Him and Sable both.”

Swift looks at him sideway and smirks. “You’re one to talk!”

Once outside, Nahlah leads the way back to where she was pretty sure she saw a bar on the way in. Or, at least, bar-like enough with a collection of ponies talking, drinking, and generally having a good time relaxing. Along the way they notice ponies training. Some sparring. Some beating on bags. Others seemingly trying to use the ground itself as a training dummy as they pound away at it with their bare hooves.

Orchid and Silver Shoes follow them at a slight distance. Talking among each other, but generally keeping a look out around them as they continue on.

Gearing curves around, doubling back and coming up to the outside of Orchid as she’s looking the other way and still talking to Silver Shoes. Apparently about some upcoming important fight.

“Just so we’re on the same page,” Gearing starts, which causes Orchid to jump a bit and whip her head in his direction as he finishes. “Are you following us to make sure we don’t do anything screwed up, like steal from you, or what?”

Orchid slaps a hoof over her eyes and groans, “I’d forgotten how sneaky you can be. Damn my heart’s gonna explode at this rate.” She shakes her head then looks at him and smiles. “No. As Conductor said, guests are protected.” She waves a hoof at herself and Silver Shoes. “We’re just tagging along to make sure no one else tries anything stupid.”

Gearing smirks. “It’s nice you’re worried about our welfare, but we can handle ourselves.”

Orchid starts laughing then pokes him in his chest. “Oh, I know that already… but I’ve seen what you’re capable of. And I’d prefer if you’d keep your messes outside of the terminal. Especially if that mess happens to be someone I know.” She waves the hoof dismissively. “I’m tagging along just as much to make sure no one does something that’ll piss you off, as much as pissing off Conductor. Either way. Bad news. For somepony.”

They continue up towards the back end of the old public train station. Silver Shoes waves a hoof around as she says with a smile. “Welcome to The Depot, Freight Cars’ one stop shop for food, drinks, or other refreshments.”

Nahlah wastes no time in prowling around and starting to socialize with the patrons of the bar. First getting a feel for who would actually be amicable to her presence, quickly shying away from those who won’t, and generally making laps and rounds inside of the bar.

Gearing and Sable sit at an unoccupied table near the door, which seems to be intentionally avoided for its proximity to the door, and starts taking in their surroundings. While the ones in the Administration building had outright stopped their conversations when the group had entered, the group here barely lowers the volume. And, what’s more, barely pays attention to the new arrivals. Whether it’s because they don’t know who they are, or simply don’t care, Gearing can’t tell.

Though he does start getting some curious looks when he starts doing maintenance on Sable’s battle saddle right there in the middle of the bar. He takes off the rifle with the bent barrel, and sets it on the table in front of himself. He takes the rifle completely apart, leaving the bent barrel off to the side as he starts going through one spare weapon after another and starts pulling out the best parts he can.

Several Freight Cars watch on with interest as he expertly disassembles the weapons, and ranks parts based on current condition. Bumping off previous contenders for newly found better examples. Even Orchid and Silver Shoes watch in silence as the weapons seem to spontaneously turn into carefully laid out grids of tiny parts.

He’s in the middle of hunting for a better tension spring when Gauge comes running in through the door, panting and wide eyed. He runs around in a circle near the door as he pants, “Water… water… Need… water… somepony… please… water… mmkay?!”

Gearing looks over at him and raises his eyebrow as he slowly turns his bandaged head to look at Gauge. And that’s when the smell hits him.

Atypical of Gauge’s normal Ode de Mudd-butt he seems to subscribe to, this is markedly different. And draws smirks from a variety of patrons as the musky cloud follows him around. Gearing takes note of his dampened fur and, for a second, wonders if the traitorous sky has unleashed another torrential downpour. But quickly realizes that, no, that’s straight sweat. The kind of sweat a pony normally only unleashes after a day in the desert. Or force marching over thirty miles in basic when somepony was dumb enough to piss off every drill sergeant simultaneously.

Gauge partially sits down, and partially flops at the table that Nahlah is at, holding himself up with his fetlocks on the edge of the table, as he stares at the bottle in her paw and whimpers. Nahlah rolls her eyes and slides it over to him as she says, “You could just order one yourself, you know…”

He hops up with a giant grin on his muzzle as he says, “Thanks, mmkay!” And starts slamming the entire thing. One of the Freight Cars mares sitting with Nahlah seems amused by this circumstance and hands him her bottle as well before going to the counter to order more drinks.

He waves at the kind mare as he’s still drinking from the bottle Nahlah had given him. He hunkers down and his eyes go wide as a musical voice comes in from the outside.

“Ooohh sweeeetnesssss… Where’ve you gone now?”

Gauge grabs the other bottle, then runs over and slides under the counter near the wall behind the front door. Though, Gearing notes, the look in his eyes isn’t fearful. It’s, something else. And despite the fact that Gauge is currently trying to covertly drink the rest of the bottle while in hiding, he’s got the single most goofiest grin on his muzzle while doing it. He genuinely seems to be enjoying himself.

Glimmer walks in through the door, looking back and forth as she calls out again, “Ooohh sweetness…” She sees Gearing and Sable sitting there going over their weapons, and both of them turning to stare at her. “Oh! It’s you two.” She walks over and sits down across from them as she grins. “That little friend of yours is something special.” She shakes her head and smirks as she waves a hoof. “For a little guy, he’s something else.”

Nahlah looks at her with her jaw wide open then points a paw at Glimmer as she partially closes an eye. “You actually like Stinky?”

Glimmer waves her forehoove dismissively. “Eh… so he’s got a little gas when he gets excited. No big deal… He’s actually rather sweet.” She licks her lips while partially closing her eyes and looking at Nahlah with a grin. “Tastes kinda sweet too…”

Nahlah’s fur frazzles as she asks with a tone that’s higher pitched than she normally speaks. “You been huffing Brahmin shit or something?! How can your nose handle that?!”

Glimmer’s grin falls off her face as she says with a scowl, “No, that’s some Wild One’s bullshit, and don’t you dare ever accuse me of that shit again!”

Nahlah doesn’t even react to the obvious threat and waves her paw at Gearing. “Gearing… Gearing… You see this, right? You see this?” She points at Glimmer. “Make a note… Okay?” She sits back and closes her eyes as she waves her paw in front of herself as if she’s writing with a pen. “’Swift is never allowed to say Nahlah has no standards. Again. Ever. See attached incident labeled ‘Stinky Gets a Marefriend’.’” She opens an eye and looks over at Gearing. “Got that? Good!”

Glimmer smirks at her as she puts a hoof to her chin. “Well… I don’t know about marefriend, that’s a bit sudden don’t ya think?” Her grin starts growing as she says softer, “Might be nice though…”

Orchid and Silver Shoes exchange side-glances and simultaneously mouth, ‘What the fuck?’

Glimmer’s head jerks forward suddenly as Gauge jumps onto her back, and wraps his foreleg around her neck. He grins near manically as he tries to hold on, and only manages a few seconds before Glimmer whips around and throws whoever is on her back down, and through, a table next to her. She glances down at Gauge’s upside down visage and smirks. “Ohhh, being sneaky that time, huh?”

He grins up at her and gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, causing pieces of table to fall down more around him.

She smirks down at him. “Do you ever get tired, sweetness?” He simply shrugs and grins up at her again. “Mmmkay…” she practically purrs. “I think I heard the bell… New round…” She leans down and kisses him, then runs a lick from his lips, under his neck, and down his underside. All the way down, continuously, until she reaches his tail.

A few of the others around lean over shamelessly as they try to see where this is going.

Glimmer bites his tail, then turns around and starts trotting out of The Depot, dragging Gauge behind herself, as she high steps slowly away.

Gauge gets a goofy grin on his face again and waves with a hoof as he’s dragged out the door.

Gearing slowly turns his head to look at Orchid and Silver Shoes. And the three share a moment as they all mouth, ‘What the fuck…?’

Deciding that this is something that he really doesn’t want any part of at the moment, Gearing returns his focus on the weapon fragments in front of himself. After locating an appropriate spring, he quickly begins reassembling the weapon using the choicest pieces of what he has available. The rapid fire sound of pieces being locked and slammed into place starts drawing attention from other Freight Cars members as they watch him throw it together with the speed of a cross battalion challenge. After slipping the last piece in place, he lifts it vertically with his wings and racks the action, pulling the trigger, and hearing the satisfying sound of the click as it proves its own functionality.

He immediately starts replacing the rifle on the side of Sable’s battle saddle as she sits next to him patiently. Yet sneaking in gentle cable caresses along his sides regularly as he works.

Orchid watches him make the modifications and asks, “You know your way around rifles, huh?”

“My Gearing is an exceptionally talented repairpony,” Sable comments with a nod.

Gearing bobs his head around as he finishes getting the rifle hooked up to the Battle saddle system. “Regardless of what it is, maintaining your equipment can be the difference between life and death.”

“You work on Iron Hoof’s guns?” Silver Shoes asks as she props her head up on the table with a forehoof.

Gearing shakes his head and looks over at her. “She doesn’t use guns. She prefers using her hooves.” He looks over at her and smirks, “Most I’ve seen her use is her powerhoof.”

“And what about you?” a mare in the Freight Cars’ conductor’s outfit asks from the table next door. Gearing looks over at her, and takes note of the number of ponies that are paying careful attention to the conversation, despite their attempts to appear otherwise.

A slow growing grin crosses his muzzle before he says, without even looking at her, “Whatever gets the job done is good enough for me.”

Orchid lets out a snort as she has her focus aimed at the entry door. “Ain’t that the truth.” She blinks a few times and looks around at a few others as she can feel the stares directed on her. “I’ve seen him fight. And it seems he can ‘get the job done’ with pretty much anything…” She looks sideways at Gearing and finishes quieter, “Or nothing even…”

Silver Shoes shakes her head as she waves a hoof at Gearing. “I still don’t get it though… with your abilities, you’d climb through the ranks quick… you’d be one of the next ones in line to join the Reapers in no time… So why’d you pass up the chance of a bout set up for you while Big Daddy’s here? That’s such a wasted opportunity!”

Gearing carefully goes through the parts left over and stows extras, while putting together a few lower quality weapons where available. As he’s scooping up the last few wayward screws he asks, “Better question…” He looks over at her and frowns. “Why would I even want to?”

A mug drops from across The Depot and every Freight Car in the bar turns to stare at him and his apparent blasphemy. Betraying the fact that every single one of them have been listening in and following the conversation from the very beginning.

Silver Shoes blinks a few times then throws both of her forehooves out towards Gearing. “Because it’s the fucking Reapers!” Gearing stares at her blank faced, and doesn’t even move a single gear in response. She lowers her hooves and says quieter, as she’s having a hard time grasping the fact that somepony really doesn’t seem to care about the situation, “For the prestige? Come on… if nothing else that’s got to give you a bit of a tingle somewhere… right?”

Gearing nods a bit as he says, “Ah… see… I think I’ve figured out the communication problem we’re having here.”

Silver Shoes raises an eyebrow as she looks over at Orchid. Orchid, likewise, doesn’t seem to know what he’s talking about and shrugs her reply back to her. “What’s that?” Silver Shoes asks as she turns back towards Gearing.

“You are under the false assumption that my darling Gearing cares about notoriety,” Sable offers flatly from her seat next to Gearing. She waves a hoof and limply shoos the idea away. “But, in truth, he does not. Such things hold no value to him.” She looks between Silver Shoes and Orchid as she nods. “In fact, I would go so far as to say that he actually would see such attention as a detriment. Something to actively avoid.”

Sable lets out a giggle and waves her hoof limply at Orchid and Silver Shoes. “Is it any wonder that he wants nothing to do with such a club?”

Another mug shatters as the mare that’d been holding it between her hooves squeezes too hard and crushes it as she huffs in their general direction.

Silver Shoes looks back and forth with her jaw hanging open. She locks eyes with Gearing and partially closes one of hers as she says, “But… you came all the way here… Why would you do that?”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof. “Again… No… Swift, er… Iron Hoof… wanted to come here to try out. I’m on my way to Megamart for parts and maybe some information.”

One of the bucks nearby runs a hoof through his mane, knocking his conductor’s hat off in the process, as he mutters, “That just sounds crazy to me.”

Silver Shoes leans across the table, exploring what little of Gearing’s face she can see as she asks, “Let me get this straight… You came all the way from Megamac… even flew the group up here. Getting shot down in the process… Then blown up… then a fucking building dropped on your head-“

“Half of the eleventh floor,” Gearing corrects.

Silver Shoes waves it away as she continues, “Whatever… had to dig and climb yourself out of the rubble… performed some butcher shop surgery on yourself… just to get here… and you didn’t even come here for yourself?” Gearing looks at her and bobs his head around before giving an affirmative nod. Silver Shoes flops back and asks softly, “Who the hell does that?”

Gearing points at Orchid’s rifle, and she looks back and forth before handing it over with a grin. He sets it down and begins going over it and carefully disassembling it as he continues the conversation. “I think we’re having another communication problem here…” He listens to the rifle’s action, then adds a few drops of oil from a small bottle before starting to work the action harder and harder, making it click and slam loudly. “Different ponies have different motivations. As Sable had mentioned, I see no value in being well known.”

He adjusts a screw holding a spring to lessen the tension before going back to check the action slide repeatedly. “I might not always get along with Swift, or her husband… And she might be a bit impulsive and irrational at times… but… deep down, I’m positive she’s a good pony. And, while we might never be ‘the best of friends’, she’s at least somepony I can respect.” He starts testing the action ever so gently. Creating less and less sound as he moves it and listens carefully with his right ear as his eye darts around.

He lifts the rifle up and checks down the sights as he says flatly, “She may be able to crush somepony’s skull in a few strikes… but she’s also a mother that genuinely cares about foals… not just her own.” He turns the rifle over a few times as he mutters, “So to understand somepony, you need to understand what they actually place value in. That will give you an idea of their core self… Those that value bits and wealth are typically selfish and greedy… Those seeking notoriety are typically vain…”

A buck at a table nearby slams down his now empty mug and glares at Gearing form under his conductor’s hat as he demands, “Then just what do you value, jackass?”

Gearing looks over at him, as he quickly loads in the magazine and racks a new round into the chamber of the rifle before handing it over to Orchid, action open, as he replies.

“Loyalty.”

Footnote: Diagnostic in progress… please stand by. . .

Massive Damage Registered… Hydra Matrix on Standby

39 Thrill of Victory. . .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The vanilla stallion, Buck, is leaning against the bar counter of their favorite hole-in-the-wall pub in Manehatten. He stares into his barely touched scotch as he lets out a sigh and seems lost deep in thought. Cloud Seed walks up next to him and flags down the bartender. “Hey! Barkeep! Appletini! Shaken, not stirred!” The bartender starts chuckling and nods before shaking his head lightly. Cloud Seed taps on the counter with a forehoof a few times to get his attention as he frowns. “I’m serious here! Don’t just stir that shit, it tastes differently!”

The bartender looks over at him, then walks over and grins at him. He points a hoof at Cloud Seed as he partially closes an eye. “I like that. A customer that knows exactly what he wants… Any preference on the vodka, or would you rather have gin?”

Cloud Seed sticks his tongue out. “Vodka. Of course… And… as far as which vodka…” He pulls out a pile of bits and drops them in the tip jar, far more than the drink is going to cost. He gives him a grin and wiggles his eyebrows. “Surprise me. I’ll trust ya… “

The bartender nods and bobs his head with his whole shoulders. “You got it!” Then he turns around and starts mixing the drink.

Buck looks at Cloud Seed sideways and lets out a sigh. “How do you do it?”

Cloud Seed leans sideways on the counter, with a foreleg elbow up on it, and looks at him. “Do what?”

Buck shrugs. “Stay sane. Stay happy. I mean why do you even do all of this?”

“I never claimed to be sane,” Cloud Seed says with a chuckle. Buck gives him a sidelong look and Cloud Seed leans towards him. “The more shit I go through, the less other’s have to.”

Buck shakes his head and watches as the bartender gives Cloud Seed his drink then walks away to the far side of the bar. “Yeah, but why? I mean, shit. How many times have you been shot?”

Cloud Seed grabs the drink with a wing and takes a little sip from it before looking at Buck and asking with a grin, “You asking about individual bullets, or number of incidences?” He gives a shrug. “Either way, I don’t know. Can’t even tell you how many days it’s happened.”

Buck looks opposite the counter at the shelves of liquor across from them as he says softly, “I just don’t see why. You’re damn sure not doing it for the glory. You make sure of that. You some kind of adrenaline junkie? You get off on the killing? I just… I’m just losing sight of everything. It never ends.”

Cloud Seed leans over to him and says softly, “Buck… Do you think quitting would actually help anything?” Buck just shrugs lightly, so Cloud Seed continues, “I hate the fighting. The death. Historically, killing hasn’t solved much. Littlehorn? War effort just grew exponentially. Hoofington burning? Recruitment and volunteers went through the roof. Even kids were trying to lend a hoof and getting sent away from the signup tables. And all killing zebras has done is increase their resolve as well.” Cloud Seed lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. “So I don’t if I can help it. All I want is for foals to be able to go to sleep at night, without being scared that something horrible is going to happen to them or someone they care about.” He leans over and wraps a foreleg around Buck’s shoulders. “I want the childhood our parents remember. Peaceful.” He pulls back and hangs his head as he closes his eyes. “Not filled with mutilated kids being thrown in stasis just to prolong their life.” He shakes his head. “That’s it. That’s all I want.”

Buck leans over and asks quietly, “Yet you got into this life?”

Cloud Seed looks at him sideways and asks, “If not me, then who? I didn’t start this war, but maybe… just maybe… I can help end it.” He downs the rest of his drink and frowns. “While there’s still somecreature left to save…”

Buck stares at him with his eyes wide open as he regards him. That apparently wasn’t the kind of response he was expecting from Cloud Seed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey… hey, you okay?”

Gearing looks up from the partially disassembled piece of technology on the table between his hooves. He blinks a couple times and asks, “What?”

“You okay?” Orchid repeats. “You’ve been staring at that thing for a while.”

Silver Shoes asks with her head propped up with a hoof. “Radio too much for ya to handle? It’s okay to admit it.” A wide grin crosses her muzzle.

Gearing looks over at Silver Shoes and shakes his head. “Wait… what? No. No way.” He starts putting the casing back on the desktop radio. “Sorry, gotta lot on my mind.” He puts in the last screw, spins it around, and clicks it on.

Instantly a buck’s voice comes across the airwaves through the speaker loud and clear. “- now children, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again-”

Gearing shuts it back off and pushes it with one hoof towards the center of the table. “See? Just got a couple wires knocked loose when it fell, apparently.”

Silver Shoes and Orchid simply sit there staring at it, with their mouths hanging agape, as a pair of other Freight Cars members spring over from the sides to look at it and comment simultaneously.

“Was that DJ Pon3?”

“It’s working?! It’s been busted for months!”

Sable gives a prim nod, in perfect mimicry of Nahlah, as she says, “Of course. My Gearing is a very talented stallion, after all.”

A unicorn mare pokes her conductor’s hat adorned head into The Depot and yells out, “Goldfish’s about to start her final fight! Goldfish verses Iron Hoof at Junction One. Hurry up or you’re going to miss it!” Then she just turns and runs off towards her next destination to continue spreading the word.

Most of the bar jumps up instantly and starts pouring out to try and get a good seat. Orchid and Silver Shoes stare wide-eyed for a moment before Silver Shoes asks, “Aren’t you going? Aren’t you friends?”

Gearing shrugs. “I’m not really one for fighting for sport… might as well save myself the hassle and let everyone else fight over the seats they want. I’ll just get whatever’s left.”

In under a minute the bar’s entirely cleared out, except for the five of them. Even the bartender bolted out with the rest of the crowd. Silver Shoes and Orchid look back and forth, rather anxiously, between Gearing and the door.

Gearing stands up and fishes out his cloak from his saddle bag, and then starts putting it on as he says, “You can go ahead if you want.”

Orchid frowns and shakes her head. “I’d get my head knocked off with a driving wheel if I showed up there for some entertainment and you weren’t around.”

Gearing gives his whole body a shake, dispersing the mottled ratty cloak before flipping the hood up and over his head. He smirks out at the pair from under the edge of the fabric with his one eye as he says, “Well, let’s get going then, or you’ll miss the show.” He turns and starts walking away slowly as he adds, “Go ahead and lead the way… we’ll get there faster.”

The two clamor out from behind the table and run around it straight for the door. With Silver Shoes leaping up and clear over Gearing as she makes for the exit with haste. Nahlah is quickly behind them, finding amusement in their overexcitement.

By the time Gearing and Sable get to the door, and start heading off the porch, everyone had already gotten out of sight.

Sable looks at Gearing and snickers as she asks, “How should we go about finding our escorts? Or did you intentionally do that for some other purpose?”

Gearing turns towards her and points towards the side of his head as he grins. “Nah. It’s a simple matter of following our ears. They’re anything but quiet right now.”

Sable nods and lets him lead the way, staying at his side as she continuously looks around at the ferroequinologist’s dreamscape surrounding them. She turns her eyes to look at Gearing, as she keeps her muzzle pointed away from him, and asks, “Relatedly, how is your hearing now, my love?”

Gearing turns his head to look at her for a moment, though his head is still mostly covered by the cloth. She’s about to repeat herself, fearing he didn’t understand her, when he finally replies, “Better. Much better. But, still not as it should be. I can tell the difference between the range in my left verses my right.” He shrugs and continues along as he comments, “Going to need to either see an actual doctor, or try something drastic, to get it any better. Probably…”

“What does my Gearing mean by ‘something drastic’?” Sable asks as she redirects her full attention to Gearing.

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” Gearing shudders with his entire body, and it’s visible even from under his cloak. “It’s nothing that can be helped at the moment anyway.”

Sable continues walking in time, her muzzle pointed straight at him, as she asks, “But, if it were something I could help you with?”

Gearing changes his steps just enough to swing in, and bump her hip with his own, before he says with a smile, “I’d say something… don’t worry.”

True to Gearing’s prediction, it’s not hard at all to find where this ‘Junction One’ is located. As it looks like the entire Freight Cars gang has shown up for the fight. And not a single one of them are being quiet about it.

The ring, if you want to call it that, isn’t in the typical round or oval shape one would associate with martial competitions. This one, in true Freight Cars fashion, is built on the tops of three, side by side, railway flat wagons. And, while Gearing and Sable are still walking up, a metal cage is brought over with a crane, and lowered into place over the fight ring. A few horns light up from the unicorns in the crowd as they help position it, as it’s a rather snug fit over the collection of flat wagons. But, with all of them working together, they get it into place rather easily and without incident.

Gearing walks by and taps on Orchid’s shoulder to get her attention. She looks back and tilts her head. He points a hoof off towards the cage and asks, “What are all those boxes attached to the sides of that cage for?”

Orchid grins widely and hops around as she replies, “Oh! You’re new, that’s right!”

Silver Shoes leans over and smirks as she interrupts, “We have a few fight ring styles. This one’s modeled after Hoofington Arena’s. The boxes have useful items in them-“

“But they’re locked and you have to earn keys from the audience by putting on a good show!” Orchid rapidly blurts out. Then she turns and sticks her tongue out at Silver Shoes for interrupting her.

Gearing smirks at their weird form of bantering with each other. He waves a hoof around at the massive crowd and asks, “So audience participation is big in this, huh?”

“It’s not necessary, but it certainly gives you an edge,” Silver Shoes comments with a shrug.

“But it makes it far more exciting, because you’ll never know what’s going to happen. A single item can change the whole fight. And it’s really something special if your key happens to do that!” Orchid chimes in as she sways side to side. Showing a level of excitement that Gearing wouldn’t typically associate with the more timid seeming green mare.

Orchid starts blindly waving a hoof at Gearing’s general direction, causing him to step back to avoid getting booped on the snoot, as she looks across the cage and says, “Ouu, Ouu! They’re about to start!”

Silver Shoes follows her glance and nods. “Better get a seat, wherever you can.”

Gearing trails his view over the entire area, trying to figure out where best to go. On the far side of the cage, Swift is handing over her various possessions to Handy. Saddle bags. Power Hoof. Clothes. Even her PipBuck. Which is removed using a gem encrusted key that a concrete gray unicorn stallion produces. Handy, wisely, quickly stores it on his person the moment it’s loose enough. His expression is hard to read from Gearing’s position. But it’s generally understandable that the default answer of ‘Not Happy’ would still apply.

The rest of the area has train cars of various types and sizes mixed in with scaffolding, walk ways, and shipping containers. Most of them, nearly all, have ponies seated and bopping along as they wait united in their enthusiasm.

One area that’s noticeably devoid of the typical cramped conditions is an open train car, where even the roof sits unoccupied. The only two individuals over there are Gauge and Glimmer, sitting and half leaning out of the open sided box car as they shamelessly cuddle. With Glimmer using a right foreleg to pull the smaller framed Gauge closer to her to the point that he’d be between her forehooves, if his left cheek wasn’t being smashed against her right cheek in a practically abrasive nuzzle.

Gearing walks over to some shipping containers, and hops up onto one of the smaller ones. Carefully choosing one that he knows should be structurally reinforced. Sable likewise hops up next to him. Before she sits down, she positions her minigun on her back, and uses a couple cables to securely hold it in place there, as she nuzzles in next to Gearing.

Nahlah lazily hangs over the edge of the large shipping crate behind and above them. She waves at Gearing as they take their spots and asks, “Why didn’t you guys get a seat closer? There’s plenty of room up there?”

Gearing tilts his head straight up to look at her. “I can see fine from up here. No reason to be in that crowded area. Besides, they don’t seem like they get much entertainment around here, if this gets them so excited.”

A panel opens in the side of the cage, on the side furthest from Gearing’s vantage point, and Goldfish, the orange mare from the lounge, leaps through. She runs around on the inside of the caged area, hopping around and waving to the other members of the Freight Cars as their cheering increases in volume.

As she’s still hopping around and soaking up the attention of her fellow gang members, the concrete gray unicorn stallion climbs up a set of scaffolding, and then leaps from it onto the top of the cage. Once on the top of the cage, he starts trotting around the top as his horn glows, and a moment later a cable comes out of his saddle bag connected to a microphone. Gearing realizes it’s not really a saddle bag, but one of the portable amplifiers that train personnel used every now and then when they needed to talk over loud crowds and get them where they needed to be. Namely off the station platforms and into trains.

The gray stallion brings the microphone to his mouth and grins as he slowly turns around and begins talking with a booming voice, “Hello, hello, hellooooo!” He waves with a hoof at the attendees as he spins in a circle. “How is everypony doing tonight!? Y’all excited?!” The crowd roars with cheers and hoof stomping applause.

He prances around the top as he says, “Now you can’t fool me. I know you all didn’t come out here just to see me.” There’s some snickers and out right laughter before he turns and waves dismissively at the most boisterous of the crowd. “Yeah, Timer’s not important enough for that… But...” He leans sideways and puts his hoof near his ear as he asks, “What could it possibly be… to get all of you degenerates out here at the same time?” He slowly looks around as they start going quiet.

It’s a bit that all of them know, but they enjoy it anyway.

His voice and volume grows into a rich bellow as he asks, “Could it be a fight?!” The crowd starts picking up in volume again, and he starts hopping around excitedly. “No, not just a fight, it’s the fight!” He spins around like a top on one of his hindhooves before coming back down and pointing down into the cage at Goldfish. “You see, our own Goldfish has gotten a hell of a fight on her hooves. She’s got her final challenger, and if she wins… well, she’s off to the arena in Hoofington!”

The crowd’s roar swells like an ocean wave and comes crashing down with an even louder, and obviously practiced, hoof stomping of applause synchronized throughout the crowd of Freight Cars members.

Timer puts up his forehooves, as he stands on his hind legs, then slowly brings them down at angles like he’s trying to pull down a stubborn rollup window shade. And the volume of the cheering drops down in response. He stands back up as he says, “And it’s not just any fight. Oh no. Our dear Goldfish has the singular honor of fighting… the one… the only… Irooooon Hooooof!” He spins and points a hoof down to the outside of the cage where Swift rocks side to side as she awaits her turn to head into the cage.

Surprising to everyone that accompanied Swift all the way here, the Freight Cars cheer almost as loudly for her as they did for Goldfish.

“There’s one more bit of surprise information I need to share before we get started though…” Timer says quickly before twirling the microphone around with his levitation field. After the area’s gone nearly silent, with no one wanting to miss what he’s about to say, and literally everyone turning to look at him, he finally finishes, “By the word of Big Daddy himself...” He points over towards a set of scaffolding where Conductor, Big Daddy, No Shoes, and a couple others look on from their comfortably elevated position. “The winner of this bout goes straight to the arena!”

The crowd roars again. And this time some of the voices can be heard. Mixed in with general uproar are different ponies cheering them on. Both of them. Shouting their names and congratulating them in advance.

Timer hops around and yells, “Will it be Goldfish?! Will it be Iron Hoof?! I don’t know! So how about I just shut up so we can get the real show started!” He points inside at Goldfish, “Eager to make her hoofprints in the Hoofington Arena, we have Goldfish already in the ring and awaiting her final obstacle keeping her from there.” He snaps the same hoof over and points outside of the cage at Swift. “At the gate, waiting for her time to shine, is the growing legend in the making, Iron Hoof Swift!” He beckons her inside, and the gate opens, allowing Swift to zip up and inside as Timer continues, “Now’s the time! Fight your heart out and may the best mare win!”

He looks over and nods up toward the scaffolding where the VIP section is located. Pickles leans over the side of the railing and smacks a large piece of rail track against an old train bell, creating a louder, deeper, sound than normally would have happened if they just pulled the cord.

Goldfish and Swift start circling and looking each other over as they keep their distance.

Several members of the crowd are already waving and trying to get the fighters’ attentions as they wave keys. But, neither of them pays the offers much attention.

Swift smirks and waves off to the side as she asks, “Why don’t you grab one of those keys and see what you get?”

Goldfish grins at her and shakes her head lightly. “Not a chance. If I gotta run for a weapon now, I might as well give it up… Why don’t you?”

Swift raises her left hoof and shakes it as she looks at Goldfish. “My hooves are my weapons.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re not flying around the cage…” Goldfish comments as they circle in closer to each other.

“Well that wouldn’t be much of a challenge, would it? You can’t fly,” Swift replies

“Don’t let that stop you,” Goldfish replies. “It’s not cheating, it’s your body. You should be able to use it as you see fit.”

Swift shrugs as she grins at her, coming to a stop, and causing Goldfish to do the same. “I’d have to come down to the ground to pound you into it anyway… this just simplifies the process.”

Goldfish starts laughing and points at her. “I thought I was gonna like you. Nah. With an attitude like that?” She hops and practically trots sideways before spinning and turning, bucking in Swift’s direction as she screams, “I’m gonna fuckn’ love you!”

Swift’s eyes jump open partially, as the movements were so odd it almost caught her off guard. If she hadn’t known they were already going to fight, it would have. As it is she lowers herself on her forehoof, suspending herself on the single hoof for just a moment, before using it to spring back at an angle away from the strike coming at her.

Goldfish follows it up, without even pausing, and seemingly to curve in mid air at Swift, with a set of hoof strikes, one after another, from each of her hooves as she practically cartwheels after her. They catch eye contact in the middle of it and she laughs as she yells at Swift, “Damn, you’re fast!”

Swift keeps hopping and zipping around to dodge the strikes, a few times intercepting and directing them elsewhere as she yells back, “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you!” She leans back, letting a few of the strikes go over her before she springs her back legs up and tries to kick at Goldfish as she’s practically over her.

Goldfish spins like a cyclone, matching hoof for hoof as she keeps pushing herself away from the kicks until she’s turned into a practical tumbler. She rolls away from Swift, for only a moment. The next moment she’s planted her forehooves and bucked at Swift.

Swift, again, dodges, and gets a smirk on her face as she moves in to strike at Goldfish as she’s momentarily vulnerable and off balance from the missed buck.

But it wasn’t a miss, and Swift realizes the mistake a split second before she feels it.

Goldfish uses her torso like a spring, and brings both hindhooves back down, clopping the top of Swift’s head. Repeatedly. Causing her to stumble and try to wave them off. But they keep connecting with the top and back of her head until she intentionally drops down to the ground, and rolls sideways.

Goldfish spins around and starts hopping around again as she grins. “Come on, Iron Hoof… Where’s this challenge at? You can’t really be trying to let me win, can you? Fly! Grab a weapon! Something!”

Swift spits some blood off to the side and glares before she screams, “I got your challenge right here!” She stomps and scrapes her hooves against the ground before charging headlong straight towards Goldfish.

Goldfish actually frowns watching this, and shrugs before she starts spinning towards Swift. She comes back with another set of hard to follow hindhoof kicks.

But Goldfish isn’t the only one that knows a thing or two about feints and misdirection.

As Goldfish’s strikes are coming down on her, Swift redirects her pounce upwards, and over the legs coming down on her. She grabs Goldfish’s hind legs by her thighs using her forelegs, and spins around, slamming Goldfish down into the hard surface of the rings flooring. Goldfish doesn’t even have time to finish bouncing from the impact of being thrown into the floor before Swift is upon her.

For all of the dancing and spinning around at the start of the fight, it’s quickly evolved to an out right brawl. The two mares square off and throw blow after blow at each other. Some connect. Most don’t. But the ones that do hurt. And hurt bad.

While they are busy trying to knock the other one out, the crowd continues to cheer. They try to get their attention. But neither of them are paying anypony else any mind. Their entire world begins and ends inside of the cage at the moment. Some of the crowd gets so antsy that they throw the key they’d had into the ring. Hoping that they would use it. That it might give some exciting advantage.

But true to their opening boasting, neither one of them go for the keys. And they lay on the floor of the cage completely ignored by all but those that’d thrown them.

Goldfish manages a particularly good clop on the right side of Swift’s head, and was ready to capitalize. Except Swift uses the opportunity to plant a sequence of three different hoof blows into Goldfish’s side.

Goldfish buckles and favors the injured side, knowing full well she just felt, and heard, an unpleasant crack. She springs away with all of her strength, and hooves, but the landing is anything but graceful as the injured ribs give protest. She has just enough time to turn the other way, protecting her injured ribs, by giving up her uninjured side.

To a double applebuck kick from Swift that sends her flying against the cage and bouncing back towards the center a few feet from the impact.

Goldfish lets out a shrill cry, and rolls over as she holds her ribs with one foreleg and starts trying to pick herself up with her other hooves.

Swift looks her over as she’s approaching the struggling Goldfish. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to keep going.” She spits off to the side, causing a red star splat on the ground from blood.

Goldfish groans and looks around as she says with a sigh, “I can’t just let it end like this… I’m so close.”

“Well I’m pretty sure I broke your ribs… and I’m not going to just let you win, that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“Fair?” Goldfish looks up at her and grins. “That’d fucking suck… and don’t you dare try that shit with me!”

Timer looks down from the top of the cage and calls in, without the microphone, “Goldfish…? What’s the verdict?”

Goldfish starts trying to push herself up with her hind legs, and having a hard time getting up. “I’m done, Timer…” She looks up at him as a few tears escape her eyes. “Looks like I’m not making it in anytime soon… she got me good.”

“You sure?” Timer asks as he brings the microphone to his mouth. Goldfish gives a light nod. Timer looks around and says into the microphone, amplifying his voice once more, “We have a winner here folks! With Goldfish no longer able to fight… Winner by submission is Irooooon Hoooooof!” With that, Pickles starts pulling the rope and making the bell ring out with its sweet chiming music to signal the end of the bout.

The crowd yells and screams in unintelligible nonsense as Swift helps Goldfish up to her hooves, and then uses her wing to steady her as the pair head towards the entry gate.

“You’re not trying to pity me, are ya?” Goldfish asks as she winces and walks slowly at Swift’s side.

“Nope. Fight’s over. I was having fun, not trying to kill ya,” Swift replies.

Goldfish chuckles then stops as she coughs and holds her side. “I was right. I like you.” She leans heavily into Swift for a moment, in a near side bump, as she says, “We should hang out.”

Swift grins. “Sounds fun.”

“No breaking my ribs this time though,” Goldfish says with a smirk.

Swift holds up a hoof and closes her eyes as she grins. “I promise to only break ribs during a fight.”

“Thanks, appreciate it…”

Once outside of the cage, they split off as they start getting tended to by various ponies.

“Well that was certainly something,” Nahlah calls down to Gearing from her perch above him. “Was that what you were expecting?”

Gearing shakes his head then shrugs. “Didn’t really know what to expect of it. They seemed damn right friendly. Even after beating the shit out of each other.”

“Of course. Rivalries are built on mutual respect.”

Gearing looks over at the voice, and finds Glimmer standing there with Gauge still in a practical headlock next to her.

Glimmer shrugs then looks back at the cage as she says, “Without that, there’s no difference between that and some alley fight. There’s plenty in the world to hate already.” She points a hoof off towards the cage. “This gives us something to appreciate… something to look forward to…” She shakes her head and looks at Gearing. “Even in defeat it’s something else. Something to be applauded and cheered.” She grins as she stares at Gearing. “It takes a lot of guts just to step hoof into the cage, after all. And that kind of courage should always be celebrated.”

Gearing looks back and forth between her and the cage before asking, “Why’s that?”

Glimmer shrugs. “Well it’s dangerous. Shit happens. Not really the goal, but it can.” She grins as she says softer, “So, win or lose, just making a challenge is amazing.”

“Amazing huh? Mmmkay?” Gauge asks as he looks up at her.

Glimmer looks down at him and grins. “Yeah… it is… mmkay?”

“Mmkay,” Gauge replies before leaning up and giving her a kiss square on the lips.

Glimmer actually giggles as she leans into it, then blinks and looks around as she feels Gauge suddenly pull away. He’s already a distance away as he yells back, “I’ll be right back, mmmkay?”

Glimmer waves at him and tilts her head with a grin as she says, “Mmmkay, sweetness.”

Nahlah calls down from her lazy perch, “Hey…” Glimmer looks up at her and scowls. But, Nahlah asks anyway, “Do you seriously like him, or was he just convenient?”

Glimmer frowns and asks, “What’s wrong with that? You saying I’m not good enough for him or something?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s simply surprised, and confused,” Gearing chimes in. When Glimmer looks over at him with confusion across her face, he adds, “Probably thinks your standards must be practically nonexistent to be interested in him.”

Glimmer steps back a bit, and looks between Nahlah and Gearing, before turning to look at Orchid and Silver Shoes. “I thought you were friends? That’s pretty damn harsh. What’s up with this?”

Nahlah shrugs. “I’ve known him longer than you. Of all of the things I’d use to describe him, ‘sweetness’ isn’t one of them.”

Glimmer sits down and folds her forelegs in front of her chest as she snorts. “Well he’s sweet to me!”

Nahlah grins at her, wide enough that her eyes close. “Thank you.”

Glimmer’s forelegs slowly droop as she looks around for some kind of sign of context. “For what?”

Nahlah tilts her head and smiles warmly. “For proving that there’s someone out there for everyone, regardless of who you are.”

Glimmer smirks and looks off to the side as she mutters, “Awww, shut up.”

Gearing looks around and asks, “Where’d he go anyway?”

Glimmer shrugs and points off to the side. “Said he’d be right back, figured he had to go do something.”

Gearing gets an itchy cold feeling between his shoulder blades prompting him to ask, “He’s not from here… what could he possibly have to do?” He looks around and asks, “What does he even know about here?”

“Besides how Ms. Bigacorn tastes?” Nahlah asks.

Glimmer’s eyes go wide and she flushes as she asks, “Wha- ?! What’d he tell you?! When?!”

Nahlah points at her and grins. “I know that look, sister. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Glimmer starts fidgeting with her forehooves as she tries to think of what to say and stares at the ground.

Gearing rolls his eyes then slaps a hoof over his face as he says with a grumble, “I have a really bad feeling about this…”

While this conversation is going on, and both Silver Shoes and Orchid are amusing themselves with the discovery of this new side of Glimmer, Gauge has zipped across Junction One. And, despite the crowds and noise, has managed to find his target.

Timer.

Gauge hops around the corner of a small shipping container, and finds the side of it has been cut away to make a small shelter with a desk. Pickles is sorting through a stack of papers when Gauge walks by, and barely pays him any attention as she’s busy organizing. But then, tragically, Gauge’s excitement gets the better of him.

And poor, poor Pickles.

As he’s passing her, and as she’s simply looking to see who’s walking by her, the gray buck’s dark gray tail ripples lightly. The only warning anyone receives before the noxious fumes slam into, and overwhelm, Pickles. Her levitation magic implodes as her eyes instantly water and she starts gagging. The papers she’d been carefully going over drop and flutter around haphazardly as she stumbles and jumps away. Pickles drops low to the ground and recoils as she puts her hooves over her muzzle, holding her conductor’s vest over her nose in a desperate attempt to filter out some breathable air.

She’s unable to say anything to him at the moment. But, in lieu of saying anything, she glares at him with murderous intent through tear blurred eyes.

“Timer!” Gauge calls out as he obliviously walks away from the suffering Pickles.

Timer spins around from talking to a few passing by Freight Cars members on the other side of the improvised structure. “Yeah? Oh, you’re one of Iron Hoof’s friends, aren’t you?”

Gauge nods as he trots up. “Yeah! Mmkay? If someone wants to fight in the cage, do they talk to you?”

Timer hops over nearly flush to him and grins. “You wanna fight?! Looking to make a challenge? Really!?”

Gauge nods and sits down as he waves a forehoof. “Yeah, I was thinking it’d be fun! Mmkay?”

Timer rubs his chin with a hoof as he mutters, “I did hear Big Daddy say something about wanting to see another fight… hmm…”

“Think we can schedule it for tomorrow? Or the day after?” Gauge asks.

Timer’s head whips up to him and his mouth opened a bit before he says, “Why? Big Daddy’s leaving in the morning, ya know?”

“Well,” Gauge starts. “It was a long trip… and I’m sore from… all of the…” He starts chuckling. It quickly turns into a fit of giggles as he gets a goofy grin on his face. “Exercise… it’s got me a bit tired right now, mmkay?”

Timer springs up as he yells, “Why didn’t you say so?! Is that all?!” He hops over to the desk and comes back floating a ceramic jug with a metal wire flip-top lever closure. “This’ll put the pep back in your step, buck!”

“What’s that? Mmkaay- Grggl blag!” Gauge asks before having the opened top shoved right into his mouth as Timer practically puts him into a headlock.

Gauge flops around bug-eyed for a few moments as the liquid goes down his throat and simultaneously soothes his pain, and catches his throat on fire. He hops up and starts running around in circles screaming before finding a rain runoff trough and dunking his entire head in the water. Even submerged, he continues to scream with his head under water.

Gearing walks up from the side, and his head quickly zips to Gauge’s shenanigans as he practically leaps into the water trough.

The little water that splashes by Gearing’s hooves kick his PipBuck’s radiation counter off a few ticks, as it lets him know the water is at least a little radioactive.

Gauge pops back up a few seconds later with a massive grin on his face. “Oh yeah! That’s the ticket! Let’s get to the fightn’ mmkay?!” He trots around happily, without a care in the world, and asks, “Where do I sign up? When can we get started?! Mmkay?!”

Pickles glares at him with her eyes still doing a decent impersonation of a Hoofington wet season rainfall. She glances around and zips a piece of paper up from the ground with her levitation magic in front of his face.

Gauge looks at it a moment then grins even wider. “Thanks! Mmkay!” He quickly grabs it and starts filling his name out on one of the charts.

Glimmer and Sable walk up as Gauge practically bounces in place.

Glimmer smiles while watching him, then it slowly dissolves as her eyes trail over to Timer. She watches Timer take a pull from his ceramic bottle, hop in the air with a hind hoof double kick, and replaces the lid. She walks over towards him and asks in a low, grumbling, voice, “Timer… did you give him some of that Barnburner cocktail crap?”

Timer looks over at her and grins as he waves it away. “Awww it’s fine, it’s fine. He just needed a little pick me up before his bout!”

Glimmer’s eyes go wide and she looks back and forth. “Bout? What bout?”

Timer points at Gauge and starts trotting in place excitedly. “We’re having a double header tonight! He’s signed up to throw his hat in the ring and be next up!” Not even the fortifying cocktail can save him from the withering glare Glimmer gives him. “I-It’s gonna be fine. Okay? No reason to worry.”

“Except you shoving that laced booze down his throat, I know how you are…” Glimmer continues with a practical growl.

Timer gives her a sheepish grin and waves it off before taking the sheet of paper that Gauge waves enthusiastically in front of his face. He directs his eyes to it as he takes it in his levitation field, and looks at it, and then at him, and his eyes bug out for a moment as he asks, “Are you sure about that?”

Gauge nods rapidly. “Oh yeah. I’m going to take that pot home. Just you watch. Mmkay?” He hops around and starts shadowboxing as he imagines his opponent has already stepped out of the door nearby.

Timer runs off quickly as he says, “Head over to Junction Three. It’s already set up and we can get this going quicker!”

Orchid and Silver Shoes come up from behind and start leading the way to Junction Three, with Nahlah close behind, as Gauge jumps around and shadowboxes nearly the entire way. As they start pulling away Glimmer says quietly, “I can’t believe he’s doing this just to try and impress me…”

Gearing turns to look at her with his good eye as he asks, “First time someone’s tried something like that?”

Glimmer shakes her head and chuckles. “Folks want to fight in the ring all the time. For their own reasons. Mainly just for the thrill of it. He’s obviously doing it only because he thinks I’ll like him more… He didn’t show any interest in it before…” She scrunches her shoulders to her head and partially flushes. “It’s… flattering… really.” She waves with a hoof and says with a giggle, “But if he wanted to get on my good side, I’d rather he just gave me another ride on the sweetness train.”

Gearing groans and rolls his eye as he arcs his head until he’s looking off in the other direction and shaking his head.

“If that is really your desire, then why don’t you tell Subject Gauge your preferences?” Sable asks from behind them.

Glimmer looks over her shoulder at Sable and smirks. “I don’t think that’d work as well as you think it would…”

Sable tilts her head. “Why not? You are already involved, are you not? Whenever I desire my darling Gearing’s affections, I just say so. And he always reciprocates, to some degree. Observe.” She zips out a cable and starts slithering it around on Gearing’s flank, squeezing on it and ending with a light pat over the cloak as they are walking.

Instantly a familiar whistling sound escapes Gearing’s hood before he whips his head around to look at her with his muzzle hanging open. “S-Sable! Come on, do you mind?!”

“Not at all, my love.” She grins at him and gives his flank another few squeezes for emphasis.

Glimmer’s face flushes as she watches the two and stammers, “I-I don’t think that’d be a good idea! I don’t think he’d like that.”

Sable looks over at her and tilts her head again. “Why not?”

Glimmer points a hoof at Gearing and comments, “Well… you’re… you’re embarrassing him… obviously…?”

Sable grins at her and gives Gearing a few more squeezes. “That may be true. But I know my darling Gearing.” She looks at Gearing’s cloaked form and grins wider. “If he truly did not like it, and did not want me to continue… he’d say so. And I would comply. He knows this.” She looks over at Glimmer and partially closes her eyes. “Therefore he must actually enjoy my random affections. Since he’s made no attempt to permanently put an end to it.”

Glimmer looks back and forth, and can’t help but grin as Gearing’s head dips down lower. Yet the whistling sound coming from his cloaked head becomes much louder and more pronounced.

Sable gives his flank a light pat again before retracting her cables. “I know, my love, tonight. I can wait.”

They gather up by the entrance to the new domed structure with Silver Shoes, Orchid, Nahlah, and Gauge.

The latter of which is still hopping around excitedly.

Gearing walks up to Gauge and asks with a sigh, “You sure you wanna do this? I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”

Gauge nods as he looks around. “Yeah, I’m feeling great. There’s no stopping me now! Why? You wanna go? Wanna go now?” He sits back and starts shadowboxing in front of himself in Gearing’s general direction.

Glimmer instantly gets a pronounced frown on her face as she watches the display.

No Shoes and a couple other Freight Cars members start walking by the cage as Timer walks up to join them all. No Shoes eyeballs the group, and his grin explodes as Timer looks over Gauge’s group. “Great! Get ready, the fight will be starting soon!”

No Shoes continues walking by as he chuckles. “This should be a real good show. Can’t wait!”

Timer turns towards Gauge and points over to the door. “Get ready to go in, you’ll be going inside first this bout.”

Gauge grins and hops around a bit more, before practically jumping over to the entry gate to the metal mesh domed structure.

Timer yells at him the moment he starts walking away. “Hey! You can’t take anything in with you!” He points at Gauge’s saddle bag.

Gearing takes it from him and slings it over his own shoulders. “Don’t worry. He’s an idiot, not a cheater. Honest mistake.” Gearing slips out his PipBuck master key and removes Gauge’s PipBuck. “I’ll give it back later. Don’t want anyone else getting their hooves on it.”

Timer scowls at Gauge and then rolls his eyes. “Obviously to the first… well... good luck, you’re going to need it!” He quickly runs away, trying to get distance between him and the near molten stare Glimmer is shooting him with.

Gearing and the others from the group head over to the side, and up to a nearby elevated set of seats on top of a shipping container. As he’s looking over this new fight arena, he asks, “What the hell’s with this set up?”

Silver Shoes leans back from her seat, which is a bit lower and in front of him. “This one’s Fillydelphia style. Modeled after the slave pit fights. It’s a nasty piece of work and takes a while to set up. But isn’t used all that often for various, but obvious reasons.”

Gearing points up near the roof of the dome. “And what’s in those?”

Silver Shoes shrugs as she shakes her head. “Hazardous waste, radioactive material, general hazards.” She turns back to Gearing and frowns. “Like I said, nasty piece of work.”

Gearing looks it over and raises an eyebrow. “Then why the hell would you have it in here?”

Orchid waves it away with a hoof. “It’s mostly just for show. Or adding a bit more excitement. Most of that doesn’t really ever get used. Not much more than dangerous decorations if we’re being honest.”

“Accidents do happen…” Glimmer murmurs as she looks over the fight arena.

Gearing watches from his spot as Gauge walks into the arena from the far side. All around him are various hanging containers and this is far different from the fight that Swift had had. It took a bit more time to set up, and the containers all seem to have a variety of gunk in them. From the light glow from a couple of them, at least a few of them are radioactive. Highly. The entire floor area looks like it came out of an abandoned factory with debris and rubble everywhere. Why anyone would want to choose to fight there, for sport no less, is beyond Gearing’s comprehension.

Gauge stays by the one side pacing back and forth as he waits for his competition to enter from their side of the arena. He randomly shadowboxes and tries to warm up for the fight ahead. All with the same stupid grin on his face he’s had for the last few minutes.

Gauge looks over at the crowd around him, and starts hopping around and waving his hooves in the air as he feels excited, and he wants to get them as pumped as he feels. It doesn’t seem to really work at first, but then the crowd starts screaming in a large uproar that actually catches him off guard. He hops around looking outside the arena with a grin on his face as he absorbs the attention. He absorbs their admiration. He soaks up their love.

At least until he realizes they aren’t looking at him, but through him to the other side of the arena.

A large dark gray earth pony stallion with a cropped black mane walks in and snorts as he looks at Gauge. The grin he’d had across his muzzle melts off his face as he sees his competition. He looks around quickly, and his eyes settle on Gearing. Up in the stands. He looks around and then over to one of the ponies that seems to be helping run the place as he points a hoof at Gauge. “You’ve gotta be kidding me… This punk challenged me? That’s not who I’m supposed to fight, is it?” No Shoes practically begs.

The pony with a clipboard looks at it, shrugs, and then nods a weak confirmation.

No Shoes rolls his eyes as he starts lumbering across the field. “I hope I can at least break a sweat on this little shit before I break him.” He seems entirely disgusted with the turn of events and, the moment the train engine bell rings, he charges across the field at Gauge to try and work out some of his own frustrations.

Timer, notably, decided to forego any introductions and just let the action play out as he hopes it’ll get it over quicker.

Gauge, despite all logic, actually charges straight at the larger earth pony, catching both No Shoes and Gearing off guard by the brazen act. He bounds and times his jump to get a good kick off on his swing to clock the black maned buck in the face with a forehoof. But the slick floor slides with him and causes his back legs to slide back and kick backwards, making him propel forward faster than upwards, and he winds up sailing straight under No Shoes as he comes down with both forehooves to smash Gauge. As he’s skidding to a halt behind No Shoes, Gauge doesn’t even get time to get all the way to his hooves, and off the ground, before the much more experienced No Shoes uses the same momentum from his strike to lean forward into a powerful buck, and follows through with it by hitting Gauge hard enough to send him flying.

Gauge instantly starts regretting his life choices as he starts picking himself up off the ground. Especially with the effects of Timer’s Barnburner cocktail seeming to either wear off or reach the limits of what it can override. “Ouuuhhh that hurt, mmkay.” He glances down and sees blood dripping from his abdomen and then looks up to find the culprit attached to the fence with some chains. Some kind of sharp farm tool that’s also dripping with his blood where he’d collided with it before bouncing back and falling to the ground.

He looks over in time to see a large metal drum get kicked at him, and he scrambles sideways to get away from it. He catches his footing enough to start running sideways and scrambles up the various debris and fencing up towards the hanging barrels. And actually makes it up to their level.

He hops from barrel to barrel, trying to get away from the large earth pony and figure out what the hell he’s doing here and why this seemed like such a good idea not too long ago. Through pure stupidity and luck, he not only manages to not fall into any of the suspended containers himself, but actually sends several of them crashing down towards No Shoes.

The dark gray stallion looks up and his eyes go to their fullest as his legs sprawl out in shock. It’s his turn to run for his life, and he ends up playing keep away, with his own body, from the various containers that come crashing down around him. Acids. Toxic waste. Radioactive material. It all cascades around him like a relentless bombing run. He’s quickly left in a panic to get away from it while trying to figure out a way to get at the little bastard making a mockery of him from above.

Gauge starts grinning again as he sees the panic he’s causing the larger stallion below. What’s more, the ground itself is becoming a major problem for No Shoes to even get around on. As the various splashing goop is a burning mess that nopony wants anywhere near them, let alone actually touching them.

Gauge climbs up near the fence area of the roof, actually looking for a way out, as he realizes maybe this really isn’t for him.

A smaller earth pony buck hops over to the fence and hands him a bottle of liquor with a rag in the top already burning as he grins at Gauge. “Here ya go, boiyo! Keep up the show you’re doing great!”

Gauge, not knowing what else to do and wanting to be polite, thanks the random pony and takes the flaming bottle. He doesn’t see anyway out from up here, and quickly loses his footing on the container he’s standing on as it starts tilting precariously. He slips and falls down, smacking off the claws holding it in place and grabbing hold of the one side to keep from falling down the rest of the way out of pure reflex.

A poor choice to say the least.

Gauge’s head is turned sideways as he falls and grabs ahold of the container, momentarily thankful that he’d avoided the full fall. He lets out a gurgle and coughs as he feels a sharp pain in his abdomen as his wound splats against the metal side. And around where the automated transport hooks stick out. But that relief, as mild as it was, dissolves as the container tilts sideways with his added weight, and splashes the liquid it contains on the side of his chest and forelegs before coming loose from its hook. He falls away, a moment before the container comes loose and falls as well.

The crowd watches on in shock as the fall seems to take place in slow motion. Especially the way the bloody grayish ropey material quickly unravels from his abdomen like some magic rope trick. It becomes painfully obvious, before he even hits the ground, that one of the hooks used to move and transport the containers had punctured his abdominal wall. And currently is in the process of using gravity to eviscerate him.

Gauge screams the whole way down, and the tone only pauses long enough for the impact with the ground to knock the air out of his lungs. But, he starts screaming even louder as the toxic sludge he lands in starts eating away at his flesh. However, that realization is only part of the reason why the pitch of his scream magnifies into a high pitch shrill wail. For as he fell, he still held the flaming Molotov. The glass bottle of liquid smashes into the side of his own skull, on impact with the ground, and while he was still holding it with a fetlock, releasing its contents.

At the moment of impact, the part of his body that touched the ground instantly began getting eaten away by the chemicals he basted himself in. Quite literally the rest of him gets enveloped in a fireball. A flame that begins cooking the rest of him as he starts flailing around like a living melting creature made of magma.

Even No Shoes has stopped his rampaging to look over in complete shock at the turn of events. The fire, being made of high grain alcohol, doesn’t last long. The dark gray earth pony walks over to look at Gauge with a combined expression of shock, disgust, and an ever so small amount of sympathy.

No Shoes avoids stepping in any of the puddles as he comes up behind Gauge to try and grab his hind leg. He intends to pull him out of the toxic mess, and at least let his final moments be as quick as possible. But most of Gauge is covered in things No Shoes wouldn’t touch even if he were paid. As he’s reaching for the stump that’s left of Gauge’s tail, with the rest of it having been singed off in the blast, Gauge bids farewell to Equestria with one final symbolic act.

By letting out one long, rancid burst of gas the likes of which he’s never done before, as his muscles loosen and his breathing stops.

Directly into the face of No Shoes. Point blank.

The earth pony stumbles backwards and gags as his eyes tear up and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. He shakes his head repeatedly then runs away and starts huffing toxic fumes in the corner to try and get the smell, and taste, out of his mouth. “Fuck you! I was just trying to make it easy on you!”

Nahlah leans over towards Gearing and points a paw at Gauge. “See… that’s what I’m talking about. Why’s he got to fart in everyone’s face?”

Gearing sits there staring at the scene in complete shock. Not so much from watching a friend die. He barely knew the guy and didn’t really like him. In fact, he was actively hoping he would get himself killed. But the way he died? Why the hell did he sign up for this? Even worse, why didn’t he just tap out instead of trying to use the place like a damn jungle gym? It’s mind boggling. His PipBuck chimes and he looks at it before looking over at Swift’s location, in the VIP box, and exchanging eye contact as she points both forehooves into the arena.

[Did you just SEE that?!]

[Yeah… that had to suck.]

[Yeah… he owed me 50 caps btw, in case there’s any in his saddlebag.]

Gearing can’t help but snicker before replying. [Dibs on the rest.]

[I wouldn’t want that smelly shit anyway.]

Morbid jokes got along well in the military. It’s one of the ways you’d cope with things. When you didn’t know who was not going to make it home that night. When that someone might be you. When you got tired of dragging body bags full of parts of ponies that used to be your friends, or at least someone you could tolerate and have enough trust in them to cover your back and provide support. It wasn’t funny. It was a coping mechanism.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Nahlah’s voice draws Gearing’s attention.

He looks sideways, and sees Nahlah with her paw over Glimmer’s shoulder. Glimmer’s expression is hard to read. He can’t tell if she’s angry, upset, indifferent, or simply has just resumed her typical ‘resting bitch face’ that Orchid swears she has. But her body language is a bit more telling. Every muscle is tensed as she stares down into the arena. Not even the declaration of No Shoes as the winner, nor the roar of cheering that springs up when it’s announced that he’s going on to the Hoofington Arena, draws her focus away from Gauge’s burnt and disemboweled form in the middle of the arena.

“Are you going to be okay?” Nahlah asks as she gently rubs the practical granite that makes up the muscle mass of Glimmer’s shoulders and back.

Glimmer gets up and starts walking away as she says, “Fucking stupid…” before jumping down and disappearing into the crowd below.

Orchid looks up at Sable, Gearing, and Nahlah, and bounces her eyes around between them before she says meekly, “That… that’s never happened before. Not like that anyway.”

Gearing gets up and hops down as he shakes his head. “Let’s go link up with Swift and get our schedule sorted…”

Silver Shoes watches Gearing walking away from under her hat before she turns to Sable. “Is this going to cause a problem?”

Sable shrugs and shakes her head. “They were not what anyone would consider ‘good friends’. Dying in a fight is one thing. It’s sad… It happens… Dying for entertainment though?” She shakes her head. “I believe he is conflicted by the wastefulness of it all.”

Silver Shoes looks up at her. “But is this going to be a problem?” Silver Shoes repeats as she stares at Sable.

Sable waves it off and smiles. “No...” She shakes her head. “Of course not.” She looks in Gearing’s general direction. “I do not see why.” She tilts her head. “I don’t think… so… ?” She turns her head to look at Silver Shoes and Orchid.

They stare at each other for a few moments in silence.

Silver Shoes and Sable say, in unison, “I better go make sure.” Before they turn and run off after him, leaving Nahlah and Orchid sitting there in confusion.

Footnote: Diagnostic in progress. . . please stand by. . .

Massive Damage Registered. . . Hydra Matrix on Standby

Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

Author's Note

This chapter has several decisions, and repercussions. Some more immediate than others. And it features the first explicit loss of one of the original group.

40 Ten Second Splat

Gearing walks through the crowd of Freight Cars with his head low and keeping his cloak in between him and any wandering eyes. The surrounding chatter and excitement is unending as he continues on with his goal. It’s not the same volume of how it was during the fights. But it’s noticeably louder than they would otherwise be. Similar to a busy metropolitan cafeteria; a near incomprehensible din. All of them seem to be talking about the various fights, and some are talking about No Shoes in general.

Above it all, a mare’s voice screams and dwarfs the rest of the chatter, “You son of a bitch!”

The crowd’s volume drops noticeably as everyone turns to look in the direction of the commotion. But several, in the general area of the ruckus, let out a variety of sympathetic reactionary gushes as a loud meaty thwack echoes out.

“Ouu!”

“Fuck!”

“Daaaaaamn!”

A stallion voice comes out in a gargle, “It wasn’t ma- my fault!”

“You and your fucking Barnburner!” the same feminine voice bellows out. A few more smacks echo out before a gray and blue blur goes sailing, flying over the crowd at high speed. Everyone’s head follows, and watches, as the stallion slams into the metal cage of Junction Three’s fight pit before bouncing off and tumbling back to hoof level.

The crowd starts rapidly parting, and moving out of the way in a direct route towards Gearing. He stands there, eyes darting around, wondering what’s going on.

A moment later Glimmer, face twisted into a snarl with spatters of blood covering her, stomps through the crowd in the direction the buck had flew. She walks right by Gearing, not looking at him or anyone else, as she only has eyes for one individual.

Just after she’s passed, Silver Shoes hops to Gearing’s side and yells, “Whoa there! What’re you doin’?!”

Gearing glances at her sideways and points a hoof in Glimmer’s direction, though the crowd has already reformed behind her wake. “Wasn’t me!” Sable joins them and the three push their way through the crowd towards where Glimmer had gone. The other Freight Cars members, once they realize who is trying to get through, likewise step aside and let them pass.

As they are emerging from the crowd, Glimmer makes it within hoof reach of her target. Everyone else has circled around, but at a far respectable distance as they don’t want to be caught in her rampaging.

On the ground, and already coughing up both teeth and blood, Timer keeps trying to crawl away. Going so far as rolling over onto his back and pushing himself away with his hindlegs as he pleads his case.

“G- Glimmer! Wait! It… I didn’t mean for that to happen!” He hits the metal cage, looks back at it, then starts turning to follow its edge as he continues back peddling. “It’s not my fault! He wanted to fight before I even gave him that!”

Glimmer jumps at him, swinging wide with a right forehoof as she screams, “Bullshit!”

Timer ducks down and away from the strike, staring wide eyed at the deep dent she makes in the metal mesh behind him. But, as powerful as the strike was, it was only a feint. Glimmer brings up her hind legs in a near backflip and catches Timer in the jaw, with both hindhooves simultaneously, hard enough that he’s knocked up into a hindleg standing position.

After he’s up, his neck is encircled with a pink glow as Glimmer’s horn comes to life and she holds him up by choking him. She steps back as she glares at him and asks, “A fights a fight, but a Fillydelphia match!? Whose fucking idea was that? Damn sure not his. He’s not from around here!” She paces back and forth as she holds him there. “And why didn’t he tap out? Did you even tell him any of the rules?!”

Timer’s eyes bug out and he looks around a bit before he gives a nervous smile. “I… I think I … forgot…” His eyes bug out more as his throat gets squeezed more. He gurgles out. “You made me forget when you threw me off with your threats about my BarnBurner.”

His eyes go even wider as he quickly clamps his mouth shut. It didn’t take the darkening of her face for him to realize his mistake. He knew he’d screwed up the moment the words left his muzzle and he heard it himself.

“You’re blaming me for your fuck up?!” Glimmer growls. She hunkers down and prepares to pounce him. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

She starts upwards, jumping at him, but gets yanked back and down as a large train driver wheel drops down over her head and becomes an improvised yoke. She gets choked and held back mid pounce and swing. She spins around, directing her wrath towards whoever had the gall to interfere, and stops mid swing.

Her eyes go wide as she says softly, “Conductor…”

Conductor stands not far from her, holding the wheel aloft with her own levitation as she glares at her. The crowd has moved back even further to give them room. Conductor holds her pipe with her right hoof and lets out a long stream of smoke from her nostrils before she growls at Glimmer, “If you’re gonna fight… save it for the ring… I’m not going to have a bunch of unorganized nonsense taking place in my station. We aren’t Wild Ones. You know that, Glimmer.”

Glimmer shifts around and screams out as she points a hoof back towards Timer. “One job. He has one fucking job here! And he fucked it up!” She turns and glares at Timer as she says, “If he’d not been high on that fucking BarnBurner of his, my sweetness would still be alive! He’d be fucked up and in need of treatment, but he’d still be alive!” She rears up on her hind legs, struggling against the wheel around her neck as she screams, “The bastard didn’t even tell him he could simply submit!”

Conductor looks over at Timer, who’s still being held up in a choking grasp by Glimmer despite getting partially choked and restrained herself. She takes a long pull from her pipe before she slowly releases the smoke up into the air above herself. Without so much as budging her gaze she yells out, “Pickles! Get your caboose over here!”

Ponies cram into each other sideways to make a channel and Pickles, the lounge bartender, comes running up through the crowd as fast as her hooves will carry her. She stops off to the side and looks up at Conductor. Her eyes betray her concern as she asks quickly, “Yes, Conductor?”

Conductor tilts her head as she looks at Timer. “Pickles, I know the match was thrown together quickly. Everyone was still excited from the last match… But… You were over there at the booth, right?”

“Yes, Conductor. I was.” Pickles nods quickly.

“Now, I couldn’t hear from where I was standing… I didn’t hear an introduction, though it’s not mandatory. I didn’t hear any hype building, again not mandatory…” She glances sideways at Pickles and asks, “Did you hear him go over the rules with anyone today?”

Pickles nods quickly again. “Yes, Conductor. I did.”

Glimmer turns and glares at Pickles, who cowers back while looking back and forth between Glimmer and Conductor. Glimmer gets her neck yanked more with the large train drive wheel for her troubles.

“Who, and when, Pickles.”

Pickles looks around, and doesn’t see the target to point at fast enough so she rambles off, “Timer went over the rules extensively with Iron Hoof. Made sure she knew she could tap out if she didn’t want to, or couldn’t go on. Made sure she turned over all of her equipment so it was an unarmed fight.” She shrugs. “He went down the entire pre-fight list.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, Conductor.”

“So not…” She scrunches her face then waves vaguely towards the cage area where Gauge’s smoking body still sits sizzling in hazardous chemicals.

“Gauge!” Glimmer screams as she turns towards Conductor. “His name’s Gauge!”

“Gauge,” Conductor says quietly as she looks at and nods towards Glimmer. She looks over at Pickles. “He say anything about the rules to Gauge? Did you hear him say anything?”

Pickles looks over at Timer then back at Conductor and gives a single hard shake of her head. “No, Conductor. I did not hear him say anything to the other fighter.”

“Gauge!” Glimmer bellows and stomps towards Pickles. Actually making the train’s drive wheel move despite the force it’s applying on her.

Pickles cowers back and hops away before she nods rapidly. “Gauge. He said nothing to Gauge about it.”

“You’re certain?” Conductor asks as she directs her attention back towards Timer.

Pickles nods quickly. “Yes, Conductor. I was there from when he first arrived, to when he headed straight to the arena gate.” She frowns and scrunches her nose as she shakes her head. “He farted in my face when he walked by… Hard to forget that… I’ll never get that smell out of my nose.”

Conductor nods. “Then… we do have a problem… because the fight was thrown together so quickly… he had no other opportunity to go over it.” She stares at Timer, whose lips are starting to turn blue from being slowly strangled. “Glimmer… let him go. I want to hear his side.”

Glimmer looks at her and frowns, but gives a respectful quick nod. The next moment her horn glow fades out, and likewise Timer’s neck stops getting constricted by the glow that vanishes from it. He falls down to the ground, instantly gasping and coughing as he reaches up and holds his throat with one hoof. He takes in a few breaths while face down and trying to pick himself up off the ground to look at Conductor.

A moment later he’s slammed back into the arena cage, with one of his hindhooves actually slipping through one of the holes and bending up and around. He lets out a scream as his knee bends awkwardly and the same pink glow returns to both his hoof and Glimmer’s horn as she scowls at him.

Conductor momentarily smirks as she finds the act amusing, as it’s both obedient yet helpful. For he can certainly talk now, once he stops screaming from the pain, but he definitely won’t be able to run while pinned like that.

“Timer…” Conductor calls him before she takes a long pull from her pipe. He looks up with just his eyes, wincing and doing his best not to cry out despite his knee being bent awkwardly around the metal of the fight cage. Once she has eye contact with him she asks, “Well, Timer? Did somepony throw a switch on me and have us going down the wrong track?”

Timer keeps his head bowed as he shakes his head and says softly, “No, Conductor.”

“What? I don’t think I heard that, speak up!” Conductor says before starting to take a slow pull from her pipe.

Timer squeezes his eyes tightly before yelling, “No, Conductor! They are right. I forgot to go over everything with him.”

Conductor watches him for a few moments, with silence all around them as she regards him. She lets the smoke pour out of her muzzle as she asks, “So you admit you derailed my nice orderly schedule?”

Timer nods weakly. “Yes, Conductor. I fucked up. I let myself get distracted.” He shakes his head and sighs. “There’s no excuse for it.”

“You’re damn right there’s no excuse!” Conductor snaps back as she glares at him. She taps the end of her pipe on her chin as she stares at him. “To keep things running smoothly, and on time, there has to be order. Everyone has a job. And you had a singular purpose. And failed. Horribly.”

Timer simply hangs his head and offers nothing more in his defense.

“You’ve left me in a very uncomfortable position here, Timer,” Conductor says in a low voice. Timer looks up at her and tilts his head, and she continues after succeeding in eye contact again, “You’re complete, and utter, failure to perform a departure list has resulted in a guest of the Freight Cars to lose their life… do you understand that?”

Timer’s eyes slowly grow wider as he coughs and sputters up blood around himself as he tries to comprehend the full extent of what’s taken place.

Conductor points her pipe at him and waves it around. “They are welcome to challenge. They are welcome to fight. And, if they should lose their life in the arena, it is unfortunate, but,” she shrugs, “Shit happens… You, however, deprived them of what may have prevented it from getting that far.” She looks around and says quieter, “I was wondering why he was climbing around the roof…though it wasn’t a horrible tactic.”

She shakes her head and looks at Timer. “Order has to be maintained… you understand that, right?” Timer nods his head, and lowers his gaze as he squeezes his eyes tight and bites his lip with what’s left of his teeth. “Other’s in my position would probably just throw you in the arena, and let Glimmer take care of you… or, hell, right here and now…” She takes a puff from her pipe then lets it out in a gush. “But that would be dishonoring and dirtying the entire spirit of the fight rings. It’s not an execution ground…”

There’s silence for a few moments before she says flatly, “Timer, give me your hat.” Timer’s head jumps up to look at her and his jaw drops open as he stares at her in disbelief. “You heard me,” she says while staring at him.

He nods, takes off his conductor’s hat, and stares at it for a moment. He lets out a sigh, and sniffles, before using his own levitation field to respectfully float it over to Conductor. Regardless of what is to come, he wasn’t going to simply throw it away.

“Pickles… Come here,” Conductor says as she takes the hat from the air with a fetlock, and floats her pipe with her own levitation field. Pickles quickly hops over in front of her and looks around wide eyed as her eyes jump to the secondary hat. Conductor looks over at Timer and says flatly, “Timer, you’ve failed to keep to your appointed rounds. And can no longer be trusted to do that job.” She looks down at Pickles and says, “Pickles… you’re now Keeper of the Watch. You’re singular duty will be to maintain the honor of the fight pits, and ensure that any and all fights are up to standard. It’s a big responsibility. Are you up for it?”

Pickles stares at her with her mouth agape, then nods quickly. “Yes, Conductor. I am!”

Conductor floats off Pickles’ conductor’s hat, and then carefully replaces it with the hat that had previously been worn by Timer. “Very well. Do me proud, Pickles.” She leans over, and wraps a foreleg around her, giving her a warm hug before pulling back and smiling at her.

Pickles looks around and beams with pride and excitement as she reaches up and feels her new hat. She asks softly, “Is there anything you would like me to do?”

Conductor smirks at her and asks as she tilts her head. “What do you think you should be doing?”

Pickles looks around then says softly, “I think… Junction Three needs to be cleaned and reset… and the fallen need to be properly tended to with the respect they deserve…”

Conductor grins widely and nods approvingly. “Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“May I be excused to tend to my duties?” Pickles asks with a massive grin.

Conductor nods and waves her away. “We’re done here. Go ahead.” Pickles turns and runs through the crowd, giddy to get started with her new position. Conductor turns and stares at the hat she’d removed from Pickles that’s floating in front of her.

Timer’s head dips down, and his eyes go wide as a familiar pressure returns to his head. He looks up with his eyes and watches as Pickles’ old hat is crammed down onto his brow. His mouth hangs open limply, drooling blood, as he looks up and stares at the brim and tries to follow where this is leading.

The hats are, in their very essence, identical. There is no difference between the two. They are the same general One-Size-Fits-All hat after all. Mass produced centuries before. But the exchange is symbolic. Yet not missed by a single member of the Freight Cars. His once prestigious position has been taken from him and passed on to someone else. Yet his personal fate is only partially decided.

“Timer,” Conductor says and draws his attention to her. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m not even going to banish you. What you’ve done.” She shakes her head. “It’s hard to find a proper punishment for.” She shrugs. “Death would be too easy. And the dead can’t redeem themselves… so you may stay. And do what it takes to regain the trust that you’ve so carelessly thrown away.” She lets out a sigh and looks around. “I’m not even going to tell you to stop drinking…” She points her pipe at him. “I’ll let you have that bit of rope to hang yourself with. An active temptation that you’re going to have to fight yourself over… Because if you fuck up again… I’m going to let Glimmer have her wish. And it won’t be in the ring.”

Glimmer scowls and snorts as she stares at Timer and digs her hooves into the ground. But she doesn’t try to move any more.

The rest of the present Freight Cars members stare on in stunned disbelief. For them, this is mind-boggling. It’s inconceivable. For a group so focused on personal glory and honor, this level of shame being forced upon Timer is unbearable. There’s no glory to be had in this. And he’s going to have to go through his life bearing the shame and guilt until he either dies or finds some way to redeem himself. The latter of which being practically impossible to accomplish.

Conductor looks around as she takes a puff from her pipe. “But, just so we’re perfectly clear. I’m not letting you off easy.”

Timer nods and hangs his head again.

“Glimmer,” Conductor begins, and Glimmer directs her attention back towards Conductor. “I’m going to give you five minutes. I know that’s far more than you’d typically need… but remember what I just said… I don’t want him dead. You’re not allowed to kill him. Understand? Break his legs. Throw him around.” She waves a forehoof dismissively. “Whatever. But he’s not allowed to die. So I’m going to expect you to be able to throw the brakes, and get him the treatment he’s going to need once you’re done.”

Timer jerks his head up and his lower lip quivers as he starts shaking lightly. His eyes drift over to Glimmer’s and all he sees is a mask of malice looking back at him.

Conductor pulls out a golden pocket watch and looks at it as she says, “You got five minutes, starting… now…” She pulls the train engine drive wheel up and off of Glimmer, releasing her from the improvised yoke as she stands there slowly puffing on her pipe.

Glimmer slowly turns her head to look at Conductor. They stare at each other for a few moments, with the watch floating and ticking away near Conductor’s face. Conductor nods towards Timer and says around the pipe, “Well… Time’s a ticking, you got a schedule to keep.”

Glimmer grits her teeth and snorts through her teeth as she says, “I… I can’t, Conductor.”

Everyone turns to look at her in confusion, even Timer.

Conductor nods again and waves towards Timer. “Yes you can. I’ll allow it this once.”

Glimmer shakes her head and tears pop up on the edge of her eyes. “I’ll kill him, Conductor…” She shakes her head again, “I’ll really kill him.”

Conductor puffs on her pipe as she regards her. “And I don’t want him to die, or he can’t be properly punished…”

Glimmer nods and looks down as she starts clenching her teeth even more. “I know… I know…”

Conductor puffs on her pipe a few times before asking, “So… what are you going to do then?”

Glimmer looks over at Timer again and shakes her head. “I can’t… I’ll end up killing him even if I’m trying not to… I’m so angry…” She sniffles and lowers her head as she clenches her teeth so hard they threaten to shatter. “I can’t…” She turns and starts walking away, releasing Timer’s hoof form her magical grip as she walks through a part that forms in the crowd for her.

They all watch her walk away, in silence and shock. Timer especially. And, after she’s made it out of sight, everyone else turns to Conductor for further directions.

No one moves. No one says anything. They stand in silence as Conductor simply stands there puffing on her pipe.

At exactly five minutes, on the dot, Conductor closes the pocket watch’s facing and stows it back in its dedicated pocket in her vest as she says around her pipe, “Time’s up…”

Everyone looks around and are not sure what to say or do. Especially Timer.

Conductor pulls out her pipe with a fetlock and points it at Timer. “Did you see that, Timer?”

Timer looks back and forth, but doesn’t say anything.

Seemingly missing the point, Conductor continues, “That’s what being responsible looks like… She wanted you. She wanted you bad. But, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from killing you. She knew doing so would go against my wishes… so… she denied herself any pleasure it would bring, at all, just to keep from screwing up…” She puts her pipe in her mouth and puffs on it as she mutters around it, “You could learn a lot from Glimmer.”

She turns and starts walking away and the rest of the crowd begins slowly dispersing, leaving Timer to sort himself out.

“That was intense,” Nahlah comments and announces her presence behind Gearing.

Gearing nods. “It was something… that’s for sure.”

No Shoes walks over from the side, and comments while looking at Timer, “That was unexpected… I don’t know why Glimmer didn’t just challenge him to the ring. Lord knows she needs quite a few more to even think about making it into the Reapers.”

Silver Shoes smirks, then nods towards him. “Speaking of which, congrats… When are you heading to the arena?”

“Thanks!” No Shoes turns to her and grins. “We’ll be heading out in the morning.” He grins even wider as he says, “I’m going with Big Daddy! Can you believe it!?” His smile fades a bit as he adds, “Wasn’t who I was expecting to fight though… too bad.” He glances over at Gearing and frowns.

“What a tragedy,” Gearing mutters.

No Shoes scowls then looks between them. “That guy had one of those giant bracelets… Where’s it at?”

“You mean his PipBuck?” Nahlah asks as she raises an eyebrow.

No Shoes waves a hoof dismissively. “Yeah. Whatever it’s called. Where is it?”

“Why?” Gearing asks as he glares out at No Shoes with his one eye from under the cloak’s lip.

No Shoes sits down as he waves the same hoof and looks at Gearing like he’s stupid. “Because I want it, duh.” He looks around between them and adds, “I need some kind of trophy for the win that got me into the Reapers. And that twerp’s bracelet will do just fine.”

“Not happening,” Gearing says flatly.

No Shoes stares at him and smirks as he says, “Why? I beat him. I even killed him. His shit’s mine.”

“Well, as they used to say back home… ‘Possession’s Nine-tenths of the law’… He didn’t have it on him. And it wasn’t his in the first place. So you’re not getting it,” Gearing says flatly as he continues peeking out at No Shoes.

“Well I want it,” No Shoes says as he folds his forelegs in front of his chest and snorts.

“How’s it feel to want,” Nahlah says from behind Gearing before she blows a raspberry at No Shoes.

No Shoes looks at her and grins. “If you wanna put that tongue to work, I have a few ideas.” In a colossally unnecessary move he points down with both forehooves and winks at her.

Nahlah, to her credit, actually gags involuntarily at the mere thought of it.

No Shoes nods towards her, temporarily ignoring Gearing. “You got it?”

Gearing sways to the side, blocking his view with his cloaked form, as he says flatly, “No, I have it.”

No Shoes looks at him and beckons with a forehoof. “Okay, cough it up then.”

“No.”

No Shoes blinks a few times. Then looks around as the word seems to genuinely confuse him. “‘No’? You can’t say ‘No’ to me…”

“Well apparently I did. So I can, and I will,” Gearing replies.

“You want this to turn nasty?” No Shoes asks with a laugh.

“I suppose that’s up to you. Isn’t it?” Gearing retorts. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

No Shoes waves his forehoof around and rolls his eyes. “I want what’s mine… And that trophy, is mine.”

“I can’t let you have it,” Gearing repeats.

No Shoes looks at him for a few moments, and a grin slowly grows across his muzzle before he says, “Fine… I challenge you for it…”

“Uh oh,” Silver Shoes says as her eyes go wide.

“I- I’m going to go get Conductor,” Orchid says quickly before running off.

No Shoes waves her away and doesn’t even look at her as he keeps his focus on Gearing. “Go ahead. Won’t change my mind.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Damn, you all are fixated on bullshit, aren’t ya? I told you before, I don’t want any part of your glory fighting bullshit.”

No Shoes extends a forehoof and says flatly, “Then give it here.”

“You can fuck off with that too,” Gearing retorts.

Silver Shoes turns sideways and frowns as she says to Gearing quietly, “That’s probably not an option…”

Gearing looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “The hell?”

Silver Shoes nods towards No Shoes. “He’s a full fledged Reaper now…”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments. Both Silver Shoes and No Shoes stare at him. Nothing else is said until Gearing motions with a hoof for her to continue as he says, “And your point is…?”

They both stare at Gearing wide eyed as they can’t believe he’d just said that.

“Stable pony?” Silver Shoes asks softly.

Gearing shrugs then nods as he says, “You could say that…”

“Oh fuck…” Silver Shoes groans as she slaps a hoof over her face. She points the hoof at No Shoes as she says, “Part of being a Reaper is the right to issue a formal challenge to others for position or property…”

“What about it? I’m not a Reaper,” Gearing replies as he points at himself.

Silver Shoes shakes her hoof at No Shoes. “But he is. And you’re choice is either fight for it, or hand it over.”

“Aaaand… what if I don’t want to do either?” Gearing asks as he narrows his one unbandaged eye.

“Short answer? Basically death… Either give it up, fight him for it, or if you try and run, you’ll have everyone else after you… and, given Iron Hoof’s getting in, she’ll probably be expected to take part as well… it’s called a stomp.”

Gearing narrows his eyes, “So they really are nothing but raiders with a more fancy reputation…?”

“Don’t fucking say that!” Silver Shoes hisses. “It’s bad enough as it is and, given the connections, the first ones after you will most likely be every Freight Car around you.” She nods off towards where Orchid had gone. “That’s why Orchid went to get the Conductor… you’re all guests, but Reaper rules trump that I’m pretty sure.”

Gearing looks over at No Shoes and asks in a grumbling voice, “You’re really willing to go that far over something you don’t really care about except as a trophy?”

“I’m a Reaper now,” No Shoes says flatly with a grin.

Pickles comes running up panting. She looks between them and asks in between cycles of sucking in air, “What’s this about a challenge?”

No Shoes looks at her and points at Gearing. “I’m officially challenging him for the bracelet the guy I beat was wearing.”

Silver Shoes looks at Pickles and asks softly, “What did Conductor say?”

Pickles looks at her and rolls her eyes. “What do you think she said?” She looks at Gearing and nods towards No Shoes. “Challenges stand, even among guests.”

Gearing narrows his eyes as he asks with a huff, “So I get robbed, and I have no say in the matter? And even if I win the challenge, I get nothing but to keep my own property? Am I hearing this correctly?”

Pickles shakes her head. “That’s not true. As part of the challenge, you can name your own condition if you win. Something of his.”

Gearing turns his head to look at her, and asks softly, “So I can make whatever condition I would like if I win?”

Pickles bobs her head around. “For a challenge of property? Pretty much.”

Gearing turns to look at No Shoes and regards him as he thinks it over.

After a few moments Pickles asks, “Well? What is your decision? Are you going to relinquish the item, or are you going to accept the challenge?”

“Your life,” Gearing says flatly.

They all blink and shake their heads before No Shoes asks with a grin, “The hell?”

“That’s my condition,” Gearing replies. “You want to take this from me. Then I’m going to take your life.”

Silver Shoes eyes go wide, and No Shoes actually starts laughing.

Pickles shakes her head. “This isn’t a fight to the death. It’s a fight to knock out or submission.”

Gearing looks at Pickles. “I don’t care. That’s my condition.” He looks at No Shoes. “Want to try that bullshit with me. Fine. The price is his life. You just said I could name anything of his I wanted to take…”

Silver Shoes steps up and waves around, trying to calm everything down. “Whoa! Gearing! It’s not that big of a deal!”

Gearing looks at her for a moment as he says, “Yes. It is.” He turns back to looking at No Shoes as he continues, “The dumb ass doesn’t even know what it is. But a PipBuck has an enormous amount of information in it. If someone even halfway decent gets their hooves on it, they’ll be able to track its point of origin. They’ll be able to find everything it’s been connected to. And could, potentially, use it to back trace where we’d come from.” He turns to look at Silver Shoes. “Which means they could find our home.”

He points a hoof at No Shoes without even looking at him. “Which makes him a threat to every foal we have. Our very lives will be at risk of being destroyed… so… given the potential loss… this isn’t even an equal wager. He’s not offering up enough.”

No Shoes grins as his eyes light up. “It can do all that?! It’s even more valuable than I thought!”

Pickles rubs on her chin as she grumbles and tries to think of what to do or say.

“Sure, whatever,” No Shoes says with a grin. “He’s just trying to scare me off from it… But it’s not going to work.” He leans towards Gearing and sneers. “I’ve been wanting to fight you since you walked into the lounge… You’re not getting out of this.”

“I’m not trying to buy the pot with an outlandish bet. I’m serious. Is there no way I can convince you to change your mind?” Gearing asks.

“None,” No shoes says with the same sneer.

“You’re funeral.”

Pickles nods then starts trotting away. “Meet at Junction One. We’ll hold the fight there. I’ll go get everything ready.”

No Shoes grins and waves with a forehoof as he says, “I’ll see you soon…” Then gets up and walks off through the crowd that had started gathering around again to watch the exchange.

Silver Shoes watches him go, then turns back to Gearing. “Are you really going through with this?”

Gearing turns his head to look at her. “Not like you’re giving me much of a choice here in the matter.”

“But you’re not really going to just-”

“Kill him?” Gearing cuts her off. She nods. “It’s his choice. He’s the one pushing for it. So I don’t want to hear one fucking thing about anyone crying fowl afterwards. Unlike Gauge, he knows the stakes full well. And I’m not holding back. At all.” He shakes his head. “The stakes are too high.”

By the time they get back to Junction One, there’s already a crowd growing in the seating around the elevated platform. And, unlike previously, the challenger is already inside of the cage. No Shoes trots around the inside of the domed fight arena. He waves and talks with others randomly outside of the metal mesh as he excitedly waits for the fight to start.

As they are walking around towards the entry gate, Silver Shoes asks, “I get wanting to protect your home, but why be so set on killing him? Just winning would do the same thing, and you could get something else to boot if you won.”

Gearing shakes his head. “You don’t understand at all… It’s not just about him… or today… or even tomorrow.” He turns and looks at her. “It’s about the future… It’s about an infinity of days, moves, and decisions.” He points towards the cage where No Shoes trots around soaking up the admiration. “The best way to not get hit in a fight, is not to fight in the first place. If I simply beat him… he could try again later… or someone else might…” Gearing shakes his head. “But I might be able to convince everyone else that doing so is a bad idea… and prevent them from even trying later.” He continues towards the door as he grumbles. “That way I can win battles, without even fighting them… simply by setting a high cost precedent. Otherwise the shit’ll never end.” He growls and mutters quietly, “I fucking hate bullies…”

Gearing walks near a set of shipping containers and starts taking off all of his harnesses and bags. The first item he takes off is his PipBuck, which he does so under the cover of his cloak and makes sure no one can see its unique attachment method. He puts it into Sable’s bag and leans in towards her ear as he whispers, “No one gets this… If you have to… destroy it. It’s going to take your laser to do a proper job. Regardless of what happens: don’t let this fall into anyone else’s hooves… understand?” Sable looks at him sideways and nods lightly.

Pickles trots up with a clipboard and looks Gearing over as she smiles. “Ah, already know a bit about the process, huh? Well… just to make sure you understand everything… No weapons or armor are to be taken inside with you. You can use whatever you find in the arena, but nothing can be taken in. The fight will continue until one fighter is unable to fight, through unconsciousness or death, or if they submit. You can give up by either yelling out that fact, or by beating on some object three times.” She reaches up and gives three quick raps on the shipping container. “Like that. And we’ll call an end to the fight. But, in doing so you’ll be declaring the other individual the winner and they will be entitled to their requested stake.” She looks him over and asks softer, “That all make sense?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah. I get it.”

“You know how to submit?”

“Tap out, but I’m not going to be doing that.”

Pickles grins as she looks at her clipboard. “Good to see you’ve got a fighting spirit. That’ll go far with the crowd. Keys the crowd have are color coded. Each one matches different sets of boxes. You can use whatever is in the boxes.”

Gearing waves it away. “I don’t care about that.”

Pickles looks up at him and frowns. “It’s not a good idea to ignore them. Some of them have some real advantages in them.” Gearing waves her off, and her eyes go wide as she sees him take his cloak off. She lowers the clipboard and points at him. “Excuse me, but you’re going to have to take your armor off as well.

Gearing looks over at her and smirks, “It’s not armor.” He fans out his wings, high in the air, and then lowers them to the perfect angle to redirect the rays from the surrounding electric lights. “Suits of armor can’t make you fly.”

Sable looks at Pickles and nods as she says, “My darling Gearing is wearing no armor. The only thing he is wearing is his bandages.”

Pickles frowns as she looks him over and tries to figure out how this fits into their nice neat rule set.

“Awww just let him have his bullshit armor. I don’t care,” No Shoes yells from the inside of the cage. They all look over at him and he grins back as he waves it away dismissively with a hoof. “I’m going to be fighting Steel Rangers soon enough. I could use some practice beating their metal ass down.”

Pickles looks back over to Gearing and says quietly, “Well… I suppose as long as he’s okay with it…”

Gearing shakes his head. “It’s my body, not a suit of armor. There’s nothing to take off.”

“And this is my Gearing’s booty!” Sable says with a giggle as she uses a cable to grope Gearing’s flank.

Gearing’s ear starts whistling as he whips his head back around. “Sable! This isn’t the time for that!”

Silver Shoes snickers then says with a hoof to her muzzle as she gives a conspiratory side glance to Sable, “I see what you mean about him ‘not saying no’.”

Gearing lowers his head and mumbles as his ears whistle even louder.

Sable steps up and kisses him on his cheek as she says, “Be careful, my love.”

Pickles’ jaw hangs open as she watches this, but she’s also apparently been given enough evidence to prove their case as she tucks the clipboard to her side. “If there’s nothing else you need explained, we’ll begin in a few moments.” Gearing shakes his head. “Fight will start at the ringing of the bell.” Gearing waves her off as he starts walking towards the door.

“Why’s your head down? Already regretting the decision?” No Shoes gloats from the other side of the door.

Gearing looks up at him through his one eye and growls. “You can end this whenever you want. It would, really be in your best interest to end it. Before I do.”

No Shoes waves it away, and laughs as he’s directed to walk to the other side of the arena by the other fight pit assistants. After he’s on the other side, lounging with his back against the far fencing, Gearing is ushered inside and told to stay near the gate.

Inside they stare at each other across the relatively short distance of the fight arena.

No Shoes points up at his own face and says with a laugh. “You should have taken off your mummy costume before coming in here… You’re going to need them nice and clean… very soon.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment with his one eye. He reaches up with his wings and runs the tips under the edge of the bandages enough to make a gap. He starts pulling them off with his wings, allowing him to grab the clump with his left forehoof’s fetlock before using the tension between the leg and his own head to rip the bandages away from his face.

Pulling away the bandages in such fashion sends most of the pieces scattering away like large confetti. What remains attached to him hangs loosely from his neck like he’s wearing many scarves simultaneously. But the bandages, both on him and not, fluttering in the light breeze aren’t the reason for the undivided attention he suddenly gets. Nor the confused expression that overtakes No Shoes’ face.

The left side of Gearing’s face remains the same dark color, bestowed by chemical treatment, as the rest of him. Except, like the rest of him, where the chemical treatment had been disturbed or destroyed from injuries he’s received.

In the case of the left side of his face, there seems to be a golden spider web, like glass broken from a singular impact and radiating outward. Centered around his left ear. His left ear has a wavy rippled curve to the tip like some wilting flower petal that’s being deprived of life sustaining water. From that edge, down his ear, and growing outwards over the left side of his head, the polished brass of his natural body shines like gold in lines that interlock and weave with each other. The effect is disconcerting to look at and appears to be a near obsidian statue that had been shattered, and then repaired with gold Kintsugi style.

Gearing blinks his brushed copper eyes a few times as he looks up at the dark sky above, and then directs both of them towards No Shoes. He keeps hold of the bandages with his left fetlock as he says, “You have until that bell rings to call this off…”

No Shoes starts laughing and waves it away. “And why the hell would I want to do something like that? My first fight as a Reaper and backing down without even trying? I’d never live it down!”

“Because,” Gearing continues in the same low tones. “After the bell rings… You’re life expectancy drops to one minute… max.”

No Shoes throws his head back and laughs before looking at Gearing. “You are so full of shit.” He finishes with his head thrown forward as he practically spits in Gearing’s direction. He sneers as he starts ambling around and planting his hooves. “You know, I was going to take it easy on you, since I just killed your buddy… but I don’t think I will now. Not with that disrespectful attitude of yours.”

Pickles hops onto the top of the cage and uses the megaphone to talk to the crowd, “Hey everypony! Apparently the fighting spirits infectious today! The third round tonight is between our very own No Shoes, who just managed to become a full fledged Reaper, and one of Iron Hoof’s own entourage! For those that helped drive out the Wild Ones today, you know he’s no push over! So this is guaranteed to be an amazing fight that everyone will be talking about for years to come!” She waves a forehoof high in the air as she yells, “And the night’s burning, so let’s get this train moving! Wwooooo!”

A chime rings out from above as the old train bell is jingled to signal the start of the fight. But neither of the combatants looks up at it. It’s only the sound that mattered to them.

As soon as the bell chimed, Gearing began swinging his tail side to side. A quirk of being a clockwork is the ability to keep a steady rhythm. It’s not from having some internal clock that controls everything. They have no programming. They aren’t protectaponies, despite what they look like and popular opinion. No. The natural time keeping comes from being able to repeatedly make the same motions without fatigue or injury causing mistakes. It still takes a bit of practice, and some self awareness, to figure out which motions are best, or practical, for the individual though.

After all, as any pegasi can attest, being born with wings doesn’t mean you’re going to fly yourself home from the hospital.

And so, Gearing begins the fight… with a swish of his tail, as he focuses his attention on No Shoes.

No Shoes, the moment the bell rang out, started running towards Gearing from the other side of the arena as he screams out with glee, “It’s time to fight!”

Swish. “What you don’t,” Swish. “seem to understand,” Swish. “is this,” Swish. “isn’t a fight!” Swish. Gearing responds from his stationary position. Moving nothing more than his tail like a metronome.

As No Shoes crosses some threshold known only to Gearing, Gearing releases the bandages he’d been holding aloft the entire time with his fetlock and starts springing forward as he screams, “It’s an execution!” Swish. No Shoes was already in the portion of his gait where he had started leaving the ground with all four hooves, as he was running at maximum speed, when Gearing finally moved to intercept.

They are set to collide midair, and No Shoes is not only ready for it, but welcomes it fully with a forehoof blow he starts pulling back to unleash on Gearing. But, he’d never fought a pegasus before, and was not accustomed to spontaneous midair direction changes.

Gearing, unlike Swift, uses his wings to full potential, and gives them a snap. Not only does the maneuver make him shoot forward a lot faster, but it helps him get over and clear of No Shoes’ head. Entirely avoiding the assumed collision.

No Shoes turns his head back in time to look at Gearing, while completely bewildered, as Gearing locks his forelegs around No Shoes’ waist. No Shoes does not simply come to a dead stop, but actually gets yanked backwards by the mind-boggling mass that currently has him held tight.

Swish.

Gearing spins around horizontal to the ground, taking No Shoes with him, as he twists and arcs to swing No Shoes around by practically bear hugging the stallion’s waist.

Swish.

Gearing slams No Shoes into the ground, head first, by practically landing with him while still holding him upside down vertically. All the while keeping a tight grip on No Shoes’ waist in the process.

No shoes, with his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle, yells out in both surprise and pain as the side of his face is dragged along the floor plating.

Swish.

In a fluid follow up, Gearing glances down just enough to confirm placement, before stomping down, and bringing the full destructive force of his brass body to bear, with a single hindhoof.

On No Shoes’ head.

No Shoes’ eye goes wide and his scream momentarily turns to panic. The sound is quickly, and suddenly, replaced by a sick cracking of bone, and a wet suction sound, as Gearing’s hind hoof doesn’t merely smash his head. It goes completely through it. The noise is quickly drowned out by the screeching and grinding of metal on metal as Gearing’s hoof continues through the cobbled floor plating of the flat wagon.

Swish.

The roar of the crowd had barely gotten started, before it started sputtering out in a stage of confusion on what had just happened. From most of their perspectives, Gearing seems to be holding No Shoes’ upsides down and almost sitting on his head. The full truth of what’s going on doesn’t strike all of them until Gearing pushes off with the one hindleg he didn’t imbed in the metal, pulling his other hindleg out of the hole he made in the floor with another round of screeching and grinding.

His hind leg is soaked in blood up to his thigh before he arcs his body and flicks the lifeless, and partially headless, body of No Shoes a distance away.

Gearing drops down to all hooves and walks over to the side fencing, where Sable is standing and watching closely. Gearing nods back behind himself as he asks her, “How long’d that take?”

Sable looks between him and the bloodied corpse and replies, “From the first chime of the bell, to Subject No Shoes’ termination via catastrophic cranial damage, time elapsed was nine point nine eight seconds.”

Gearing nods. “That’s about what I counted too…” He shrugs. “From living to splat, in ten seconds flat…” He scratches his chin with a wingtip then smirks as he says, “Hey, that rhymed!” He shakes his hind leg, sending pieces of gore and blood showering onto the floor, as he turns and looks up at Pickles. She stands up on top of the dome wide eyed, with the microphone hanging limply at her side, as she’s too shocked to maintain the concentration necessary to hold the levitation field.

“So,” Gearing starts as he slowly turns around to look through the cage at everyone else. “Anyone else want to threaten my foals?” He points over at No Shoes with a wing. “Hmm? … Anypony? … No? … Good…” He starts walking towards the gate as he grumbles, “Now let me the hell out of here, I need a bath…”

Pickles shakes her head, pulling herself out of her stupor, and then grabs the microphone again as she waves at the scaffolding. Finally the other assistants ring the bell signaling the end of the fight. “And the winner is the green-winged black pegasus! I don’t know how to explain what just happened, but that’s the results here!” She looks around and adds, “Seriously, I think I blinked or something! Will somepony fill me in later?!”

The rest of the crowd likewise seems confused about the fast paced results. There was no ramp up. There was no fun to this. There was no playing to the crowd for favor. There was no sportsmanship. It was simply death. Cold and calculated. Many of them look at the key they’d been holding and can’t help but wonder if it might have changed things. But, the fight was over so quickly not a single key made it into the arena before the result was decided.

After getting out of the cage, Gearing walks over to the shipping container where he’d parted with Sable and gives her a gentle nuzzle across her cheek with his own as she quickly arrives. Unlike previous contests, no one is rushing to congratulate him as they would for normal victors. He gives off an air of simply finishing an unpleasant job, and not showing any signs of wishing to celebrate. So even those nearby decide to give him his space.

“Hey,” a soft mare’s voice draws both of their attentions to the side.

Glimmer doesn’t even look at him straight on. She keeps her muzzle pointed towards the arena, but notices his movement out of the corner of her eye as she leans against the shipping container. After being sure she garnered his attention she asks, “Did you do that… because he killed Gauge?”

Gearing looks her over for a few moments in silence. When she finally turns her head to look at him for an answer, she reveals her puffy red eyes and a hard to read expression.

“No,” Gearing says flatly.

Glimmer nods and looks off towards the arena. “Ah… Well… I was going to say… it wasn’t necessary… I didn’t blame him for it… so you shouldn’t either.” She shrugs then pushes away from the shipping container. “It’s late. Come on. I’ve got a room for you… so you can wash up or whatever.” She turns and walks away, leading the way as Gearing and Sable follow suit not far behind.

For once, neither Silver Shoes nor Orchid shadow them.

Glimmer leads the way to a group of box train cars that are permanent fixtures in the station, given the collection of debris around the wheels, and the fact that each one has a ramp, or stairs, built leading to the sliding side door. Her horn glows and the door slides open as she stands at the top of the ramp and looks inside.

A moment later an electric light kicks on as she flips the switch with a bit of magic that barely causes her horn to glow. She waves a forehoof in as she comments, “VIPs and other important ponies that stop by get to use these while they’re here. The water in the trough’s only good for bathing, not drinking. Drinking water’s in the rain barrels…”

Gearing walks into the box car and turns around as he looks at its interior and asks, “What’s this for?”

Glimmer shrugs. “You’ve had a hell of a day. One stupid thing after another from what I hear. And…” She smirks as she looks over at Sable. “Your marefriend’s been egging you on for some quality alone time since you got here.” Sable grins widely and nods. Glimmer shrugs as she looks back at Gearing. “And, given what you’ve been through today… I think you deserve it.” She looks over at Sable and smiles again. “I think you both do.” She turns and starts walking away as she says over her shoulder. “Take good care of him.”

“Confirmed!” Sable says happily.

As Glimmer is sliding the door shut she adds, “Don’t worry I’ll let the others know where you’re at, and to let you be...”

“Thanks, Glimmer,” Gearing calls out before the door shuts fully.

The moment the door’s closed, Sable’s cables whip out and grab Gearing’s head. She practically appears next to him as she quickly, and forcefully, starts digging in with kisses. But, instead of continuing to escalate them, she slowly fades them off until the final kiss is a mere tantalizing tease of a butterfly kiss.

Gearing reaches up with a wing and caresses her side as he asks softly, “What’d you want to do now? As if I didn’t know?”

“First?” Sable asks.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to…” She leans in and gives his cheek a kiss. “Give you a bath… because my darling Gearing not only desires one, but needs one as well.” She leans sideways and frowns lightly as she stares and comments, “You have neural tissue imbedded in the gears of your hindleg…”

Gearing puts a forehoof to his chest in mock shock. “You’re going to let me bathe first! Stop the presses, Sable’s gone sensible!”

“I’m always sensible,” Sable says as she gives a prim nod that’d make Nahlah proud. “Loving an amazing stallion like you makes perfect sense.” She rapidly sets her various loads aside as she pulls out a few items from their collective bags. “Now come here so I can get you cleaned up and give you a proper polish!”

“Ah… now see, that sounds more like the Sable I know and love!” Gearing says with a laugh.

Footnote: Massive Damage Registered… Hydra Matrix on Standby

Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

‘Hydra Matrix: Stage 1’ Online. . .

Perk Unlocked: Organic Metallurgy Reconstructer (Health Regen+) – Created using a foundation spell matrix taken from similar talismans in automated medical pods, this talisman implant enhances the hosts natural healing ability. While the effect is far slower than could be accomplished through the benefits of direct aid, due to power limitations, the effect is continuous and does not require any input, nor action, from the host. Even in the middle of intense combat the talisman will continue to do it’s best to actively repair any and all damage to the host’s body. Though it is highly recommended to seek cover and give the talisman time to work, should one become injured. The increase in healing, while not fast, can still be noticed with the naked eye. Turning what would normally be days or weeks of recovery, into mere minutes or hours. Strength and rate can be increased with additional power source (user activated). Harmonizes with other healing sources.

Author's Note

Repercussions and consequences abound as the fighting doesn't seem to end. Decisions are made and apparently the word "gentle" temporarily gets removed from the dictionary of the wasteland.

Personal note: Germs need to die. I'm tired of schedules getting wrecked.

41 Like a Thief in the Night

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hoofington’s weather is being its typical self, a bitch, as it downpours. Trying to tame the weather is a full time job, and resources are stretched thin because of the ongoing war. Especially when it comes to pegasi. So, sometimes, the weather isn’t as tightly controlled as some residents would prefer. A figure in a large trench coat and wide brimmed hat walks along the sidewalk puffing on a cigarette. They keep near the building to try and avoid as much of the rain as possible. They pause at the entrance to an alley to finish the rest of their Sparkle Cola, downing it while the cigarette is still hanging out of the corner of their mouth. Then they spit the rest of the cigarette into the bottle, and use a downspout to put some water into it. They give it a shake to make sure the cigarette’s out, and toss the bottle into a nearby trash can.

A hacking cough comes from the alley. The trench coat wearing individual turns their head down the dark corridor and calls out with a gruff voice, “Hey, buddy, bad night to be out and about. Should be home partying instead.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Got any suggestions?” a voice replies from near one of the dumpsters in the alley.

The wide brimmed hat bobs up and down as they nod, but keep their muzzle down and face obscured. “Sure. Just need a few supplies.” He starts heading down the alley as he chuckles. “Can’t forget the whiskey.”

An individual steps out from behind the dumpster enough to look at them and waves them over as he replies, “I got Wild P on the list already.”

The individual with the trench coat walks over and starts lighting another cigarette as they chuckle. “Yeah. That’s how to start a party right.” The momentary flare up of light partially illuminates their mostly pale muzzle.

The other individual steps out a bit more, catching the light from an overhead window enough to reveal a vanilla earth pony stallion: Buck. “Here… I got the whole party list here…” He looks around then leans in and whispers, “Remember. Just cancel the parties…” He shakes his head. “I’m not helping anymore if anypony gets hurt from this. That’s the agreement. So just… cancel them.”

The individual in the trench coat reaches out and gently grabs the soaking wet wax paper bundle as they say with a sigh, “Yeah. I know.” They stand there looking at the package for a few moments before putting it into their coat. “Anything else?”

Buck shakes his head and backs up a bit as he looks around nervously. “No. Just don’t make me regret this.” His eyes bug out as he takes a step back into the wall.

The rain is pouring down so hard that the silencer on the pistol almost seems redundant as the end flashes and two growing red dots appear on Buck’s chest. After he hits the ground a third flash of the barrel coincides with one of Buck’s eyes disappearing in a burst of red gore. Even the massive downpour of rain has a problem trying to dilute the crimson blood pooling around on the ground side of Buck’s head, opposite the final shot.

They turn and continue further down the alley, tapping on a broach on their chest before muttering, “Heading home from the party store. Seems like the manager quit.” The light from a second floor window washes over his facial profile enough to show the alternating patterns of light and dark across his muzzle.

A happy bird chirp comes from the broach before it goes dark and silent. He pulls it off and puts it into a box that he produces from another pocket and puts it away before he turns into an alcove with a ponyhole maintenance access. He pulls open the electric box and flips a breaker on before turning and walking right through the brick wall. The overhead lights kick on, revealing the interior of this walk in freezer. Once inside, the wall slides back up into place to give a physical aspect to the illusion he’d just walked through. After he’s already inside the freezer he pulls off his hat and drops it on the ground at his hooves. At the same time his striped face changes and morphs into Rainbow Dash’s blue-faced pegasus assistant.

Gearing flops his rear down on the floor and looks up at the ceiling as his eyes drift around aimlessly. “Dammit, Buck… Why’d you have to go and do that…?”

A shelf rotates to Gearing’s left and he holds out the wax package to the mare standing there without even looking. “Here. Get to making the necessary changes. And hurry up. I need to be on my way to Roam by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the shadowy form of the unicorn says as she levitates the package inside and closes the wall back up.

Gearing sits there hanging his head as he groans. He keeps raising and lowering his right forehoof as he wants to smack the floor, but knows it’ll not only do no good but will actually cause damage and other problems. So he’s left sitting there, alone, full of disappointment and frustration. With nothing but his own bitterness to keep him company, and no way to vent any of it out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing curls up and lets out a groan as he can’t help but think about the distant past. They’d been friends. For how long he couldn’t even say. But he was a traitor. A mole. Gearing had been trying to flush them out for a while. To find out who it was that had been talking with Roam about turning over sensitive information. Gearing was gutted when he recognized Buck in the alley. He’d thought about simply knocking him out and bringing him in for MoM’s special memory treatment to find out who all he was working with. But that would have blown his op. And his cover. He was there explicitly on Roam’s Council’s instructions. At least that way, if they realized the information that he was going to feed them was crap, they’d have their suspicions focused on Buck not being forthcoming and trying to trick them. Although, the information that they did get their hooves on, no thanks to Buck, was true enough that they could act on it and help give credibility to Gearing and his cover. Though, if they got their hooves on the information Buck had tried to give away, there would be a sudden tree’s worth of leaves on the Tree of Remembrance. He was going to turn over a list of names, cover names, and ops currently running all over Equestria and abroad as well. Well over one hundred names.

Straight math. One traitor died. One hundred got to live.

It just really sucks that Buck had to be the one. Even more so given that, despite him having at least some knowledge of the fact, the list didn’t include any information about a few of those he was close with. There wasn’t even a hint of the green pegasus named Cloud Seed. Buck had intentionally neglected that, and in doing so left Gearing with nothing but theories as to why.

Gearing curls up just a bit more, pulling Sable in tightly to himself as he wraps her up with his hooves and wings in an all encompassing embrace. Sable, for her part, nuzzles into it happily as she enjoys every moment of cuddling with Gearing. She knows he’s bothered. The groans give that away easily. But, having no other information to go on at the moment, she opts for giving him the time he needs to figure out things on his own.

While making sure he knows she’s there for him, with an enthusiastic cuddle session.

The entire situation with Gauge has been eating at him for a while. Ever since he’d caught Gauge ratting out a mare and her foal to save his own skin. Gearing was furious. He was disturbed. He was practically ready to knock Gauge out and throw him in the waste recycler. Old habits die hard, and traitors are a threat that need to be removed at the first opportunity.

Though, with Gauge, it wasn’t so black and white. Giving it more thought Gearing had realized that, in fact, Gauge didn’t know those two. And, while it was still a shitty thing to do, he didn’t really owe them anything. Least of all his own life. While being a disgusting coward of a pony, it wouldn’t really be something for summary execution.

Then there’s the whole deal with the top of the office building after the crash. Sable had informed Gearing of the entire set of events. Though while it did put Handy in an even harsher light, it actually helped Gauge’s cause. Gauge had helped her gather up their supplies. He’d even helped gather her materials to repair herself with. He’d even gone so far as to stay with her, when even both Handy and Swift had left her.

Granted, there was a strong possibility that it’d been entirely because of her vast armaments, and from a sense of self preservation, but still, he stayed. Instead of sneaking away. Instead of selling her out, while she was vulnerable, to secure his own getaway. Instead of any other selfish thing he could have done to save his own hide and everyone else be damned, he stayed.

Which leaves Gearing with a predicament. Especially since he had been actively wishing the smelly gray stallion harm. But, now that it’s actually happened. Now that some combination of fates and stupidity has lead him to an early grave. Now that he got his wish, he’s not so sure.

And the little blue pegasus in his head isn’t letting him have any rest on the matter as well. It’s replaced the previous equation with one giant billboard sized question: ‘If Gauge was such an ass, why did Handy keep him around?!’

The only thing Gearing can come up with, is that there had to be some history there. Something that happened before they got to Stable 68, since they all arrived together according to Sable. Something worthy enough to ingrain him with one of the most foul-tempered, idiotic, short-sighted ponies Gearing’s ever had the misfortune of knowing: Handy Hooves.

Killing a dozen mercenaries to save him and his children didn’t do it. Saving his life from a horrible disease didn’t do it. Practically single-hoofedly turning a tomb into a long term functioning stable again, while giving him time with his family, didn’t do it either.

If none of that could even get Handy to treat him decently, what could Gauge had possibly done that was so above and beyond, that he could pretty much do no wrong in Handy’s eyes?

Gearing doesn’t know. But it causes him a bit of anxiety to think that he may have sorely misjudged Gauge. Being in a shitty situation, sometimes there are no right answers. Only the ones you can live with. Maybe it had just been a snap decision from a desperate buck that knew he was screwed beyond belief if it didn’t work.

The little blue pegasus in his head, being ever so helpful, changes the subject by holding up two large pictures. One of No Shoes, sprawled out with most of his head missing, just the way Gearing had left him in the arena. And one of Big Daddy, puffing on a cigar and looking at him over his sunglasses with those glowing eyes.

The Reapers.

He’s never liked games where rules are sprung on him after he’s started playing. It’s hard to strategize properly when you don’t know everything that’s going on. The Reapers almost seemed okay to Gearing. Not exactly poster material for civility and old fashioned Equestrian morality. But, good enough for the Equestrian wasteland. The same could be said with the Freight Cars. They have their own rules. Their own codes of conduct and honor.

The problem, Gearing realizes, is that some of their codes of conduct are shit that turns his stomach. It has the potential to be so much worse than what he’s seen. If you can challenge anyone, for anything, do they take part in slavery as well? He hasn’t seen it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. What about forced prostitution? Is there an age limit, or can anyone be challenged? Foals? Where exactly are their limits? How far is too far? How rigid is that line for their limits?

Gearing hates to jump to think about it, but he realizes that, at some point, he might very well come across something that will put him on a head long course against them. That they might turn out to be an unbearable stain on Equestria that needs to be removed. He realizes, quickly, that would be wholly unpleasant, and a nightmare to even attempt. Their strength and connections aside, which are vast on even a cursory examination, he has other, more pressing, concerns with that chain of events.

Mainly Stable 68, and the fact that Swift seems dead set on getting in with the group. Though, she may very well be doing it for the personal challenge of it. To prove to herself how far she’s come in her training. She might not realize what they’re really like.

But, then again, she might already know. And be entirely okay with it.

The little blue pegasus in his head bonks him with an oversized mallet as it tuts at him and starts ranting incomprehensibly, as it hops around and points at a large picture of Apple Armor and the other foals.

Gearing can’t help but agreeing with him on this. Swift would never intentionally take part in harming foals. Regardless of who’d sired them.

He gently moves his foreleg, and checks his PipBuck. Despite the late night, that only got later once Sable got him alone, his uneasy sleep, and his rampant runaway thoughts, it’s still night. Hours away from even the earliest signs of dawn breaking.

When he turns his head from his PipBuck, he locks eyes with Sable as she cozies in again. They rest, muzzle to muzzle, as she asks softly, “Are you okay, my love?”

“Yeah,” Gearing replies as he nods lightly, nuzzling her gently in the process. “Just thinking of some things…”

“Anything I may assist you with?” she asks as she scoots even closer.

Gearing shrugs, then shakes his head. “I’m just debating on getting out of here.”

Sable pauses her covert attempt to smother him as she asks, “Have I done something to offend you?”

Gearing shakes his head quickly, then, to drive his point home, he rolls over, practically on top of her, and starts kissing her neck and cheek. “No. Of course you haven’t.” He nuzzles her cheek with his own as he says in a sighing gush, “I love you, Sable.”

His unnecessary confession makes her squeal with happiness before all of her cables wrap him up and hold him tighter to herself. “I love you, as well, my darling Gearing!”

He snickers a bit and allows her to give him a full body massage with her cables as he says, “I’m just concerned that one of these fools around here are going to try and pick a fight with me. Because I beat No Shoes.” He shakes his head as he groans, “Apparently there’s a long training period to work yourself up that high, and I just bumped them off in a matter of minutes…” He shrugs lightly, about as much as she allows him with her cables wrapped around him so. “Neighpoleon complex… feeling the need to go after someone they think is higher on the ladder just to prove their own toughness. I don’t want to get into a cycle of that nonsense. Bruised egos can cause a lot of problems, and I’d rather avoid the whole mess.”

Sable gently caresses him along his sides, and nuzzles his cheek with her own as she asks, “What do you have in mind, my love?”

He trails his lips around her muzzle, and gives her a soft kiss lip to lip. Not one that promises rapid escalation. Neither is it one signaling an end to their contact. It’s a loving lip caress that makes them both very much aware of the present. Causing them both to close their eyes and just let it encompass their existence.

As they are both opening their eyes again, he lets out a sigh and says softly, “I’m going to slip out, and fly away. If I’m not here, they can’t pull that bullshit ‘challenge’ nonsense again… I’ll meet up with you along the route to Megamart.” He reaches up and caresses her cheek with a forehoof as he adds, “If they try any shit… and you need me… I’ll be within range. Just let me know, and I’ll come running.” He leans over and kisses her opposite cheek as he continues to caresses the first with his forehoof and mutters, “And I’ll bring hell with me…”

Sable eats up the attention with every fiber of her being as she continues to hold him to her. Even more so with his loving concerns whispered to her, and the lengths he would go to protect her. All in the name of love and affection. It’s almost too much for her. Almost too much for her to let him get away from her hooves and cables. But, he has a point. And she knows she can certainly request a taste of some of her favorite flavor once they’re out of the current situation. She nuzzles him back and says softly, “As you wish, my love. I’ll inform you if I need any assistance.”

He gives her a nodding nuzzle to her cheek as he says, “Thanks…”

In an attempt to be sensible, though she realizes drawing attention to it is likely to be counter productive to her own desires, Sable asks, “When do you intend to leave?”

Gearing lets out a groan as he nuzzle into her a bit more. Then he starts slowly pulling away as he says, “I really should go ahead and go now. While it’s still dark.”

She knew that was going to be the answer, but that doesn’t make hearing it any less disappointing. “As you wish, my love.” She slowly withdraws her cables and allows him to pull away from her. She quickly rises, and gets muzzle to muzzle with him as she says, “I’ll assist in whatever way I can.” After giving his flank a quick smack with a cable, as he’s bent over gathering up the equipment and supplies he’s going to take, she comments, “I’ll expect proper compensation at the earliest opportunity.”

His head whips around to stare at her, with his mouth hanging open slightly. But he can’t help but smirk as she gives him a rather mischievous grin. After getting his cloak on, he walks up to her and kisses her cheek as he says, “You can count on it.”

She nuzzles him back and asks softly, “Ready?”

He nods and starts walking towards the door, but stops as he feels a pressure on his chest. He looks down and sees one of Sable’s cables pushing him back as she turns around and heads for the door. He looks up and catches just a moment of eye contact with her, as she looks back at him over her shoulder, before she turns back towards the door.

She slides the boxcar’s door open slowly, and peeks her head out. She looks back and forth, until a voice from her left draws her attention.

A Freight Cars mare walking by with a battle saddle with dual shotguns waves and asks, “There something you need?”

Sable looks back and forth quickly, then pushes the door open more as she points off towards the direction behind the Freight Cars mare. “Thank you! Yes. Over there!”

The Freight Cars member raises an eyebrow then turns her head back to look at what Sable is pointing at. “What’s that?”

“Is that where the extra water that’s suitable for bathing is located?” She grins widely as she feels the gush of wind blow by her head, as Gearing flies over her and curves around back towards the roof without a sound. She waves her forehoof in the same direction as she continues, “My darling Gearing had gotten quite messy during the fight!”

The mare nods her head before she looks back at Sable. “Yes, ma’am! You can use the water in the trough for bathing, but don’t drink it, only drink from the water barrels!”

Sable nods and grins. “Thank you for the information!”

The mare tips her conductor’s hat and smiles before she asks, “Do you need help getting water?”

Sable shakes her head and covertly grabs a bucket, from its hiding place inside and behind her, with one of her cables, dumping it’s clear contents out into a larger basin near it, before trotting out with it and closing the door behind her. “No thank you. That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it.” She smiles widely as she’s approaching the Freight Cars mare and casually swinging the empty bucket. “I enjoy helping my darling Gearing…”

She tips her conductors hat again and continues on with her patrol as she says, “Well, if you need anything. Just let one of us know!”

Sable waves at her with a hoof and continues to the water as she grins widely. After the Freight Cars security mare is out of sight, Sable trots in place happily and gives her flank a shake as she imagines the praise she’s going to get for her effective diversion.

* * *

Gearing wasn’t expecting the diversionary tactic from Sable. He was planning on just jumping out and melting into the shadows until he could get clear and fly away. But, he’s not too prideful to accept an advantage when it’s delivered to him gift wrapped so nicely. Truth be told, he’s proud of her. And a little curious as to where the idea had come from.

Nevertheless, he made short work of the distance around the boxcars and up into the air. The station terminal, as a whole, is peppered with one type of lights or another. But they are for general safety. So a pony’s hoof doesn’t stray into a grate hole, or something equally problematic. They weren’t meant for illuminating the night sky. This base, as fortified as it seems to be, isn’t designed with air attacks in mind.

Nor air escapes.

Gearing quickly got to a comfortable altitude above the buildings before circling around and heading a bit to the north east. He wants to be far enough away that he can avoid any questions, or having one of the Freight Cars members track him down. Even accidentally. But he wants to be close enough that, should Sable need his assistance, he can receive her distress beacon.

A happy middle ground presents itself in the form of another tall building that’s half collapsed in on itself. It reminds him of the sniper nest that was overlooking the towing company full of slavers. In that it has a few areas on the upper floors that seem practically impossible to reach from the ground. Without wings that is.

However, he’s not an idiot. Even if he didn’t already run into one earth pony that seemed to do mind boggling things with freehoof climbing, he’s had more than enough experience during the war.

Zebra’s didn’t have horns nor wings, and were more than capable, and worrisome, opponents after all.

Gearing lands in one of the partially collapsed rooms, and quickly tests the floor for stability before heading over to a pile of rubble. He could simply patrol around the night sky, and wait for the others to wake up and leave. But that would increase the chances of getting spotted. Of someone noticing him. Of someone taking extreme exception to Gearing skipping out in the middle of the night.

So he opts for partially burying himself in rubble, and simply waiting. Those with the need to breathe, or with a bad case of claustrophobia would find the process and situation impossible. While Gearing isn’t enthused with tight, confining, spaces, doing this isn’t really a problem for him. The added weight, compared to his body, is rather negligible. While he does burrow under the pieces of the above floors debris, it’s not enough to hold him there. Not even enough to prevent his movements. So he simply goes still, and starts waiting out the darkness of the deep night.

This trip has brought more to the surface than he had expected. And far sooner than he’d even dreamed. There are groups that are so organized and feared, that they have an influence far from their origins. Hoofington isn’t very close to Megamac, but it’s presence is still felt there. The tournaments, while different from those fights run by the Freight Cars gang, still have the same kind of flavor. They still draw the Reapers’ attention. And, apparently, if you do well enough in either of them, there’s a chance they might try and poach you for their own numbers.

Over and over he runs the thoughts through his head. And he always comes up with the same answer. An answer that he’s not happy with at all to admit.

There’s far more going on in the wasteland than he’s aware of.

While, in itself it might seem a rather narcissistic idea to find this problematic. Or surprising. But it’s not a simple matter of the name of different gangs and their locations. It’s the thought that there are, undeniably, entire organizations that he’s not run into yet. That, despite normally being one of the ones that was on the cusp of every new tidbit of world affecting information, now he’s at the mercy of unknown hundreds.

Unknown thousands.

He comes to the unsavory conclusion that he’s going to need help. And a lot of it. Not just a matter of information, but those willing to aid him in trying to set things right. But that’s a fool’s errand. An idiots request. Because who in Equus would be willing to, practically guaranteed, throw their lives away all for the sake of possibly making the world a better place.

Gearing’s mind quickly jumps to two names.

The little blue pegasus in his head raises a hoof, shakes its head, then solemnly scratches out ‘Stable Dweller’ from the pair.

Gearing mentally groans as he seems to be making his own point. He can’t possibly ask others to risk their life. Not for something he himself is unsure he can accomplish. He doesn’t know anyone well enough to even think about doing that.

Sable would, he’s sure. He can’t help but smiling at the thought that his silly mare would be willing to follow him through the fires of hell itself just to make him happy. But that’s not what he wants for her. And he’s not going to use love as a weapon.

Which brings him almost full circle again. Just what to do.

He hates playing fairly. Especially when it’s a game that’s so stacked against him. One that he can’t tweak and make work for him. He needs to find a way to at least balance the scales.

A map appears before his mind’s eye again as he starts trailing over one location after another. The biggest, glaring, monster of a solution lies in Hoofington. It’s not the first time he’s thought of this. But it’s certainly been reinforced. Where as before it was something that would have been nice. Extra information. Extra resources. Maybe a place to fall back to in case things go south and really bring down another volley of balefire upon Equestria.

He knows where he can find aid.

Aid potentially strong enough to help counter the Reapers, should his fears about them be found justified. Aid against rogue military remnants like the Steel Rangers if they really are as disgusting as he’s been lead to believe. Aid against practically any other remaining force in all of Equestria.

A strength so devastating that it would give any of them, or all of them, pause once it was brought fully to bear.

It won’t be in the extra hooves he may find living there. If there is indeed anyone still alive. Even if there is, he’d have the same problem there as here: nopony knows him enough to join up and help. So he’s not going to count anyone among the number of advantages he knows he can find there.

He knows right where he can find an equalizer to allow him to take on a substantial force, and potentially, fates willing, bring some order back to the wastes of Equestria. But, regardless of what may exist, it won’t be easy. He’s not a fool. He knows it’s going to be a long grueling process. There’s not a single megaspell to make everyone play nice. If there was, Fluttershy would have bombarded all of Equus with it long ago. There will be no easy answers there. Assuming he can get there.

He’ll need a few supplies. Some equipment. And a lot of luck. And that’s just to get to Megamart in Hoofington. But that’s only the next stage of his goal. For getting to Hoofington isn’t his plan. Hoofington is only a stepping stone, not his end goal.

For, if he wants to unleash this equalizer that he has blinking in his head, he only has the one choice. And no other goal will work. No where else in Equestria has the potential for a lone pegasus to make such a mark on the world. No where except exactly where he knows now he has to go.

The Core.

Footnote: ‘Hydra Matrix: Stage 1’ Online. . .

Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

Author's Note

I know it's not on time, and I'm sorry for that. I'm honestly surprised I got this much done given what all has happened, but I wanted to put out something. I'm rather exhausted from the entire breakin situation and writing is one of the few things I can do to try and recoup that doesn't require much physically.

I know it's not the best. Apologies. I'll be coming back later to refine it and delve a bit more in when I'm thinking clearly. But, over all, this gets the general idea down of where I wanted to go and the pacing with the chapter.

I'd like to publicly thank my friends who have been helping me try and deal with this. You guys have really helped restoke my faith in humanity. And my readers who have been understanding and kind enough to give me a pass while I try to get my life back together.

Thank you all.

-Quillsy

42 Food For Thought

Gearing stays buried in his little rubble-strewn camouflaged position well passed morning’s first light. He’s unsure of the plans that were made between Swift and the others, but he’s positive Sable would not wait terribly long for them. Given his desire to hurry up and get back to Stable 68, Gearing is certain that Handy would want to leave at the earliest opportunity. But a lot of that depends on Swift. He’s not sure what effect his sudden disappearance would have with the Freight Cars. And the Reapers.

And he’s not sure just how far Swift is in bed with them. Metaphorically speaking.

The closer it gets towards noon, the more antsy he becomes. A variety of scenarios run through his head. A combination of Freight Cars and Reapers coming for him in the morning, and Sable refusing to give him up. Because that is something she’d be likely to do. And, unfortunately, if she had a good enough sense of the situation to think that his presence would only lead to his destruction, Gearing has an annoying ache that she might just let herself be destroyed instead. To protect him.

Sure, he made that secondary box for her to distribute her consciousness. And, it should work. But he’s not positive. He’s not an expert on AI. And it’s not something he wishes to test and find out the hard way he’s wrong. Not to mention he can’t even comprehend what kind of damage going through such an ordeal could cause her mentally. It could be anywhere from a simple ‘well that was unfortunate, moving along’ to a full blown case of PTSD caused by the death experience.

He hates thinking that way, about her dying to protect him, but it’s plausible. And the more time that passes the more he worries that his fears are justified. To make matters worse, given the current situation, all he has is time, and nothing else to do but think. So he simply stews in his own stream of negative thoughts. An alert through his PipBuck doesn’t help matters any.

He quickly checks it and finds it’s from Sable with her location. But nothing else.

Every so often it just pings with an update to her location. From what he can tell, she’s on the move. Rather quickly. And moving away from the Freight Cars’ encampment. She’s already outside of it by his reckoning, but that doesn’t really tell him much.

Except that she needs him.

He slinks out from under the pile of rubble, letting it clatter down from his cloak before he takes a running start towards a missing wall. And leaps out into the open air. With a couple flaps of his wings he spins around and zips right towards her location. He uses the higher buildings to limit his profile from a distance, instead of simply buzzing over all of the roofs. He’s in a hurry, but leading the entire Freight Car gang, or whoever else, to her location isn’t going to help matters any if she indeed needs support.

He zips over one of the taller buildings, then spirals around to look at the small office building only a few stories tall below him. Judging by the rapid movements of the beacon, Sable’s in there. He glances around and then turns towards the right side of its perimeter as he starts looking for pursuit.

* * *

“Sable, what are we doing here?” Handy asks with a sigh as he looks around the office room where she’s come to a complete halt in the center. The room doesn’t look like anything special, except maybe for being one of the few rooms with all it’s windows still intact and some ratty curtains blocking most of what little sunlight the cloudy sky was willing to part with. The office desk, regardless of where it had been originally has been thrown or pushed against the right wall and overturned. The supply closet on the left is left open and empty, with its door off to the side and hanging from the one stubborn hinge on the bottom. But, besides the typical wasteland dust in the air, there’s nothing more of note. Not even another entrance or exit to be seen. Except maybe short of breaking a window.

Sable taps a forehoof on the cement floor and nods her head with a strong affirmative. “I’m going to wait here until my darling Gearing returns to me.”

Handy slaps a hoof over his face and grumbles, “This again?” He pulls it off and flicks it at her. “We don’t even know where he’s gone! He took off in the middle of the night, with no word on where he was going. You said so yourself!”

Sable shakes her head lightly. “My darling Gearing will be back soon. I just must sit here and await his return.”

Handy looks her over, then around at the small office she seems to have camped out in. “Sable, he’s abandoned you, okay? He ran away from whatever consequences he thought were coming.” He shrugs. “We’ll probably run into him later, but we need to get going on towards Megamart before it gets too late in the day.”

Sable shakes her head and, to prove her point, sits down in the office with a soft thump. “No. My darling Gearing would never abandon me, Subject Handy Hooves… I just must sit here, and await his return.”

Handy turns around and walks back into the hallway shaking his head. He looks off to the right, at Swift and Nahlah, who just stare at him awaiting some verdict. Handy points a hoof into the room behind himself as he takes a few steps away from it. “She’s pulling that stubborn protectapony routine again. Says she won’t leave until Gearing gets back.”

Nahlah looks at Swift and frowns as she says, “I almost could understand at the wreck. Was obvious shock. But what’s this about?”

Swift waves both of them away and shakes her head. “I’ll have a word with her.”

A soft metallic grinding sound greets their ears and both Swift and Nahlah only spare the door a quick glance before continuing their conversation.

Nahlah waves a paw and starts walking towards the door. As Handy steps further into the hallway to let her pass, she comments, “I’ll handle this. Already have a bit of experience talking her down…” She steps into the doorway, and then freezes in place, mid step, as she stares into the office while her hair stands on end all over. Her tail even freezes mid swish and frazzles out.

Swift instantly notices the reaction and asks, “Nahlah, what’s wrong?”

Nahlah slowly tilts her head, and sits down, before she says evenly, “Well, she found Gearing apparently.”

Swift and Handy look at each other, and then jump over to the doorway. They cram in side by side, with their heads over Nahlah, and peek into the office where Handy had left Sable.

In the middle of the floor, there Gearing lies on his back, belly up, while Sable seemingly has him pinned to the floor with her own body as she continuously digs in with kiss after kiss. Gearing’s cloak lays sprawled out around him, and makes a sheet of sorts on the ground, as he gently caresses her entire length with both his green hued crystalline wings. All while treating her cheeks to gentle caresses with his forehooves.

Handy pulls back from the door wide-eyed with his mouth agape. He looks around back and forth, spins around in a circle, and then starts pointing his forehooves in random directions. “Wha- How? Where? I mean- He wasn’t- How’d he-?!” He throws his head back and screams up at the ceiling, “What’s going on here?!”

Nahlah puts a paw to her chin as she examines the action and deadpans, “I’m not entirely sure about the finer points of robotic mating rituals… but it appears to me that she’s in the process of queuing up for a ride on his pony pogo stick…”

Gearing’s eye opens partially as his ears twitch towards the sound at the doorway. At least as much as they can while on his back. He glances sideways with the one eye, and it instantly jumps to its widest as he looks at the doorway. Just as quickly, his ears start whistling, which only seems to encourage Sable to escalate the situation.

The fact they have an audience, of a goofy faced feline and an incredulous looking pegasus mare, changes nothing from Sable’s perspective.

However, Gearing hasn’t quite reached Sable’s level of Laissez-faire attitude when it comes to such matters. Especially potential, if not literal, exhibitionism. And so, Gearing puts an end to whatever Sable had in the works by wrapping her up with his limbs and wings, rolling with her, and quickly getting back up onto his hooves with the maneuver. Though Sable takes advantage of his disheveled cloak, by stepping on it, and holding him there long enough to steal one more deep kiss. Then she politely steps off and uses her cables to help reorient his cloak for him.

Nahlah grins as she looks back and forth between Sable and Gearing. “You need a few minutes?” Gearing’s head dips down as his ears start whistling and he tries to cover his face with the hood of the cloak. Nahlah snickers as she puts her paw to her mouth and asks with a twinkle in her eye, “Or a few hours in your case?”

Gearing’s head jumps up, sending the hood flying back off his head from the sheer momentum, as his mouth hangs agape. Understandably, his ears start whistling even louder at the comment.

Handy groans as he looks in through the doorway at them, “We don’t have time for this…” He shakes his head and then darts his eyes back and forth between Gearing and Sable. “I thought you said you didn’t know where he went? How’d you know to meet him here then?”

Gearing looks over at Sable, and takes note of the lack of an immediate response. Though, given their relationship, it only takes less than a fraction of a second too long for him to perceive it. He can’t help but feeling like his choice in a ‘partner in crime’ has been completely validated. The fact she wouldn’t have it any other way isn’t even considered. But, covering for your special somepony goes both ways. And Gearing, true to form, looks over at Handy as he’s rolling his eyes and comments, in the most condescending tone he can ooze out of his muzzle, as he waves it away dismissively with a forehoof. “She didn’t, Handy. I’ve been keeping tabs from out of sight.” He shrugs and gives Handy a smirk. “I just tracked ya down once you were out of the terminal. No problem. I already knew were you were headed after all.” Gearing shakes his head and then lets out a sigh. “Given what happened, I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to hang around there longer than necessary.”

Swift shakes her head as she looks at Gearing. “Actually… the only thing they really seemed put out by, was you just disappearing without talking to anypony first.”

“Especially Big Daddy…” Handy says with a frown as he doesn’t even look in through the doorway at Gearing.

Gearing shrugs and shakes his head. “It couldn’t be helped. Sorry about that.” He looks back and forth between Nahlah and Swift. “They give you too much grief for me being unaccounted for?”

Nahlah shakes her head. “No, actually.”

Swift nods and adds, “Actually they were worried. They weren’t sure what was going on. They spent quite a while combing the terminal trying to find you.”

“They were seriously about to organize a search party, but Sable was insistent on leaving and said you wouldn’t be found if you didn’t want to be,” Nahlah adds.

Handy sits down and folds his forehooves across his chest as he grumbles, “There was so much hustle trying to find you, and Sable kept wanting to leave, that we didn’t even have time to stop and eat all day. First because of the search, then because she refused to stop ‘til we got here.”

Gearing looks around at them, and then waves a hoof towards Swift. “Sorry. Did you get to bring anything or do we need to go find something for you all?”

Nahlah grins wide and opens up her bag to show its contents as she practically gloats, “Oh no, we’re fine! We got enough supplies for a few days from them.”

Gearing looks over at Swift and gets a warm smile and a nod in return as she pats on her own bulging saddle bag. He looks around the office room as he asks, “Well how about we take a break, and you guys can eat. We got a ways to go and don’t need you falling over from hunger halfway to MegaMart.”

Handy hops to his hooves and walks down the small hallway away from the private office, and more into the wider open area where office space was shared among a few desks. “Sounds like a plan to me!” He uses a foreleg to shove some debris off of a desk and starts setting down a few items as he tries to figure out which mystery can he wants to dig into now.

Nahlah and Swift head out of the office and join Handy as Sable starts unloading her bags not far from where the others are sitting for Gearing to peruse their contents. The group sits on the floor in a rough circle, with Swift and Handy together on one side, and Gearing and Sable on the other. Nahlah, being the odd feline out, lounges perched on a desktop as she opens her lunch.

As they are relaxing, Sable cozies in under Gearing’s wing, who kindly obliges by pulling her in even tighter and holding her to himself with it. He slowly goes through the items in their combined bags, as they are laid out in front of him. But, as they are sitting in practical silence, Gearing’s eyes trail over to look at Nahlah’s lunch.

He watches, intently. His casual glances turn into focused attention as he watches her manipulate and fish out the pinkish substance from the can in roughly evenly sized scoops. Each one scraped away from the rest of the shaped material before being brought up to her awaiting muzzle. His eyes follow the pinkish morsel, and watch as Nahlah licks her lips after cleaning the spoon following each bite. Obviously enjoying whatever it is. Whether it’s strictly hunger based enthusiasm, or true enjoyment, he can’t tell.

“I’m sorry… are you hungry?”

Gearing blinks a few times and looks up from the can to Nahlah’s concerned face. “What?”

Nahlah rocks the can a bit towards him. “You were just kinda spacing out staring at it. Do you want some?” She smiles widely and rocks the can side to side as she extends it towards him. “I’m not stingy, I’ll share!”

Gearing shakes his head. “Oh, no! Sorry! I was just…” He shakes his head again. “It’s nothing.” He smiles at her. “You go ahead and finish it. I don’t need to eat. I don’t eat…” She purses her lips to one side of her muzzle as she tilts her head and regards him.

“Well stop staring,” Handy speaks up as he glares at Gearing. When Gearing makes eye contact with him, Handy continues, “It’s really creepy staring at someone like that when they’re eating. So knock it off.”

Gearing shakes his head and stands up. “Sorry. I wasn’t- I just-“ He shakes his head again and starts walking off towards the side. “I’ll go watch the perimeter while you guys finish.”

The others stay in their positions, and don’t move, as they watch Gearing walk out of the room and head down the stairs, including Sable. Then, once he’s entirely out of sight, Sable redirects her gaze.

Directly at Handy.

Handy, for his part, intentionally avoids looking at her. Even though he not only feels the intense stare but can actually see her looking at him in the peripheral of his vision. Though he has the good sense of not needlessly antagonizing her with a similar comment.

“I feel bad for him…” Nahlah says softly as she keeps looking at the stairwell Gearing had disappeared into.

“What for?” Handy asks automatically, then cringes and raises his gaze up to meet Sable’s. He quickly directs his full attention to Nahlah to at least appear as if it was a genuine question instead of the snotty comment he suddenly realizes it sounded like.

Nahlah looks at him, then over at Sable before she asks, “He can’t really taste anything, can he?”

Sable turns her head to look at Nahlah and tilts her head as she examines the features of the atypically perceptive feline across from her. “While the conversation has not come up, I believe you may be correct.” She looks over at Swift and explains, “Judging by his lack of reaction when exposed to a variety of materials. Materials that would make a normal pony gag if not actually vomit, or at the very least frown or show some sign of discomfort or distress. Gearing has shown no such response to such stimuli.” She looks back at Nahlah and nods as she adds, “In fact the only response I could attribute my Gearing having to such materials would be… indifference.”

Nahlah nods as she looks down at her can of food and slowly swishes her tail. She pokes the pink substance with her spoon, moving it around inside of the can as she thinks it through. “I bet he’s curious about it.” She looks up at Sable and smiles. “As you’d said, he’s got a strong inquisitive nature.” Sable smiles and nods in reply.

Nahlah shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean… just think about it.” She looks over at Swift and Handy. “Not needing to eat, might seem like a huge plus. Like he won the jackpot, especially given how scarce it can be… but…” She looks down at the can and rotates it around so that the pink blob inside rolls around the inside of the can as she looks at it. “But him not having the ability to taste… to enjoy food… just seems… so wrong.” She looks up at Handy and Swift, and only sees confusion as they don’t seem to be following along.

Nahlah waves towards them and rolls her eyes. “It’s like he’s not getting the whole ‘life’ experience. Can’t enjoy good food, can’t suffer through bad food. None of it. I mean, if you’re only going through life experiencing half of what life has to offer can you really enjoy life? I mean he’s missing out on a lot and I just don’t-“ She stops mid sentence.

The others all turn to look at her, then look around at their surroundings as they aren’t sure if she’s seen or heard something to make her stop. But, no. She’s stopped of her own accord.

As a sudden thought bubbled to the surface, conjured by her own ramblings.

Nahlah looks over at Sable and asks, softly, “If his senses are all wonky… is his sense of touch off too?”

Sable shakes her head. “His tactical responses have always been extremely fine and articulate. He’s shown no sign of numbness.”

Nahlah shakes her head. “No... I don’t mean if he can feel… but how much.” They all stare at her and she raises the can of food she’s holding as she adds, “There’s more to sensation than ‘am I touching something or not’. Warm. Cold. Hot. Freezing. Gentle. Rough. Good. Bad.” Sable locks eyes with her and seems to be processing the request thoroughly. Nahlah makes matters worse as she asks, “If his sense of taste is jacked up, is his sense of touch as well? Can he even really enjoy it?”

Sable’s eyes go wide as her mouth hangs open in sudden realization of what their feline friend is asking.

Swift looks back and forth between the two quickly before she asks, “Why’d it be important that he’d enjoy being touched? Not everyone likes touchy feely.”

Nahlah slowly turns her head and then stares at her for a moment before she tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at her in disbelief. Her eyes dart over to Handy for a moment, then she exaggeratedly gives Swift the exact same dumbfoundedly disbelieving look. It only takes a moment more for Swift to catch on before her eyes shoot open and her mouth hangs agape as well. She puts a hoof to her mouth and asks softly, “You don’t think…”

Nahlah bobs her head around a bit and then nods as she frowns.

Handy looks around at the three, and then asks, “I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

Nahlah waves him off with a paw without actually looking at him. “Girl talk, don’t worry about it.”

Swift looks over at Sable and they exchange long glances before Sable says softly, “I do not know…”

Swift sips on a bottle of water as she mulls it over. She resecures the bottle in her bag as she’s standing up. “I need to go have a word with Gearing.” Nahlah looks up at her and her eyes nearly twinkle as she gives her a goofy grin. Swift rolls her eyes and starts walking away as she says, “Get you’re mind out of the gutter, perv, not about that.” Handy starts standing up and Swift pushes him back down with a wing before she gets out of reach. “You just finish eating, I’ll be right back.”

Swift heads over and down the same set of stairs Gearing had disappeared down not long before. She walks slowly and quietly, both trying to think of how she is going to talk to Gearing about what she wants to talk to him about, and making sure a certain somepony isn’t following her down despite her wishes. She’s not sure how this is going to go, and she doesn’t need her well-intending husband to make matters worse. What she needs is to get some answers, and closure.

And for that, she needs to find Gearing.

At the bottom of the set of stairs to the next level, she steps out into the small greeting room where a secretary would sit and welcome visitors before the war. It’s impossible to tell which company had this particular suite in this section of the office building. No logos or even identifiable paperwork remains. Which, for Swift, is telling in and of itself. Either a small company that didn’t have a very big presence, and was easily swept aside. Or a more important company that had cleared out everything of note before abandoning the place.

Either way, she doesn’t see Gearing in the room and starts checking the floor for recent hoofprints in the dust away from the stairs.

“Need something?” Gearing’s voice startles her out of her investigation.

Her head zips up and she looks around, slowly panning the room, until she’s looking in the exact direction where the voice had come from. Even looking right at him it takes her a moment to recognize him.

Gearing’s sitting at an off kilter angle, almost leaning up against the far outer wall with his right shoulder. His muzzle is directed towards the wall on the left, where a hole has developed and provides a view out and towards the lobby below that leads to the stairs up to this level. And the only apparent access point to this office suite. In the mottled cloak Gearing practically melts into the dingy surroundings and debris of the corner. Adding in the fact that he’s remaining perfectly still, from not needing to breathe, and his practical camouflage becomes nearly magically perfect.

But, he’s tilted his head just enough to peek out at her from under the cowl of the cloak with the edge of one brushed copper eye. Which, along with some of the spider-web like cracks in that part of his face, almost seems to glow in comparison to the rest of his shadowy head.

Swift blinks a few times as she rotates her ears, to make sure they haven’t been followed, before she starts walking over towards him. “Got a minute?” He turns to face her a bit more and raises his left eyebrow, causing the spidery golden threads to warp and bend on that part of his face. “To talk I mean,” Swift adds.

Gearing lets out a forceful sigh then directs his focus back through the small hole in the wall. “I wasn’t trying to creep everypony out. I get it. He had a point. I’m not mad at Handy. Don’t worry about it. Just figured I’d use the time efficiently since we’re in hostile territory…”

Swift pauses walking towards him and tilts her head. Then she shakes her head and waves it away with a hoof. “No. Not about that. I’m not worried bout that.”

Gearing turns his head enough to look at her sideways again as he asks, “What’s on your mind?”

Swift walks over to him, and sits next to him. She takes in the view of his vantage point and quickly becomes grateful that there were no hostiles in this position when they came in. Or they probably wouldn’t have even made it to that first set of stairs. She looks sideways, past Gearing’s face that has turned directly to look at her, and can’t help but notice that Gearing’s rifle is already set up and ready to go off to the side. Likewise it blends in with the pipes and other debris, but within reach for quick use if and when the time comes for it.

She starts looking through the gap as she says softly, “Yesterday… Today…” She tilts her head to look at him as she smirks, “Pretty much everything since I met you… really…”

Gearing chuckles and goes back to looking out the hole. “Oh… is that all?”

She turns to look at him, face on, but ends up just staring at the cloaked profile of his head. “I’m trying to figure you out…”

“Would be easier to just ask… I think I’ve said so before, ya know.”

“Well, back then you coulda just lied to me for all I knew,” Swift says with a shrug of a shoulder before she nods behind her.

“If you’re convinced I’m going to lie to you about whatever it is… why bother wasting our time asking me? Since you won’t believe me either way?” Gearing retorts.

Swift turns her head to try and regard him again. “I think I’ve learned enough about you by now to give you the benefit of the doubt… besides…” She turns her head to look back through the hole but keeps her eyes sideways on him out of the corner of her eyes as she finishes, “If you’re gonna lie about it, I’m sure you have your reasons.”

Gearing pulls the cowl of the cloak off, revealing his mangled left ear and golden spider webbed side of his face before he turns to look at her. “So?”

Her head slowly turns towards him as her eyes dart around his head and face, taking in each and every bit of golden shine she can see. In her mind’s eye she overlays the sparkle, with scabs from injuries as she forces herself to be mindful of the exact reason those areas are no longer as dark and dull as the rest of him. She manages eye contact, looking him face to face, as she asks, “Why’d you do it?”

Gearing stares at her in silence for a moment before he tilts his head. He doesn’t look away. Not even to take a quick peek through the hole at the entryway. Whether from training, personal attitude, or some factor of his constitution, he’s exceedingly hard to read at the moment. And manages to give away absolutely nothing to Swift in terms of if he’s planning to deceive her already. Not even if he’s thinking about it. “Mind giving me some context for that question?”

Again, he manages to give away nothing, and doesn’t even fall for a guilty conscious admission. An infuriatingly good poker face.

Swift smiles and shakes her head lightly. She leans in towards him a bit and asks softly, “How about why you saved me?” She reaches out and gently taps on his chest with a hoof as she looks at its general area even though it’s still hidden by his cloak. “You took that blast… for me…” She looks up into his eyes and asks even softer, “Why?”

Gearing maintains eye contact for a few seconds before he shakes his head. “That’s a weird ass question…” He motions towards her with a hoof before going back to staring out of the hole. “It would have killed you. That’s why.”

Swift smirks as she puts a hoof to her chest and looks up and to the ceiling, away from him, as she grins. “Hey, don’t count me out. I’ve been shot before. I’m a lot tougher than you’re giving me credit for.” She turns her head back to look at him with a smile as she says, “I woulda been-“ She stops short, as she makes eye contact with him again.

As he’s already staring right at her again.

“Dead,” he finishes her sentence. “You would have been dead.” Her smile slowly fades off her face as he continues, “That was a point blank blast from a 12 gauge combat shotgun… loaded with anti-personnel scattershot. Not exactly flechette rounds, but more than enough force behind it to completely take your head off at that range.”

She’d already run the scenario through her mind countless times since it happened, and came to the same conclusion: her death. Swift lowers her head and closes her eyes as she says softly, in complete resignation to the facts, “Yeah, I know… The moment I saw the barrel out of the corner of my eye I knew I wasn’t going to be able to dodge it… I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it. Time seemed to just stop for a second… But then she shot. And I waited for the pain. But it didn’t come, and I was still alive.” She looks up at him and starts exploring his face as she says quickly. “Because you took the blast for me… so… why?”

Gearing lets out a snort and goes back to looking down at the lobby through the hole. “I just said it… you would have been killed if I didn’t.” After a few moments of silence he turns his head to look at her and sees she seems to be struggling with something internally as she scrunches her face in weird ways. He lets out a sigh and leans toward her. “You have three young foals that desperately need their mother. They are waiting on you back home…” He smirks as he adds softly, “Getting shot was a small price to pay to keep from having to explain to them that their mother won’t be coming home anymore…”

Swift lets out a partially amused snort at his joke attempt. She looks him over, at least as much as she can see that’s peeking out of the cloak. “But you’d already been through so much…” She looks him in the eye and tilts her head. “Sable filled us in while you slept… According to your PipBuck alerts you were so injured if it were anypony else a stiff breeze would have knocked them over, and the fall would have killed them.” She shakes her head. “Sable couldn’t understand how you’d remained conscious that long, let alone walking, fighting, and getting shot more.”

She scoots closer as she leans over and looks up into his eyes. “I know that shot had to of hurt. Sable kept complaining about having to dig the pellets out of your body… And you were already so close to dying… so… why would you risk death… for me?”

Gearing closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I just told you… your foals need you…” He looks at her and frowns lightly as he says, “It was a calculated risk… I’m far more bullet resistant than you are, naturally. So between the two of us, I had that highest chance of survival. But, even so, I don’t have anypony that is counting on me. Nopony that needs me the way your foals need you in their life.” He shrugs. “So, the math was pretty clear and that was the logical choice.”

Swift frowns as she shakes her head lightly. “Don’t give me that, Gearing. You’re not disposable. You have friends…” She tilts her head and asks as she partially closes an eye, “And what about Sable? You saying she doesn’t matter? That she doesn’t need you?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and goes back to looking through the hole. “I didn’t say that. She matters. She matters a lot to me… but she doesn’t need me.” He looks back at Swift and shakes his head. “Not the way your foals need you…” He shrugs and waves it away with a hoof. “Sable doesn’t need me… She’d get along just fine without me… She wants me… there’s a difference…”

He turns to look out the hole and can’t help himself, smiling as he continues softly, “Though… it is very comforting to be desired… to be wanted… instead of simply needed.” He looks over at Swift and motions between her and the stairs up. “From a relationship standpoint I mean… When someone doesn’t actually need you, but wants you around anyway?” He smiles lightly and goes back to staring through the hole. “Yeah, that’s the magic ticket for me… Can’t really say I’m used to that though…”

Swift looks him over for a moment before she tilts her head and asks, “You really going to sit there and try and tell me that you saved me, just for my foals… And made the decision that you’d have a higher chance of survival than I would… quick enough that you saw what was coming and still got into position in time to save me?”

Gearing snickers and shakes his head. “No… not at all.” He looks at her sideways, and sees the look of endless confusion on Swift’s face as she struggles to understand. He taps on his chest as he bobs his head. “The fact my body doesn’t react the same to getting shot as a normal buck, is simply a matter of science.” He smirks as he continues, “And common sense… I didn’t need my previous experiences to inform me that brass is stronger than flesh… Skin doesn’t even rate a one on the hardness scale, and brass is somewhere in the three to four range.” He lifts his hoof and rocks it side to side. He slowly lowers it as he watches Swift’s eyes follow it down to the ground. After she’s regained eye contact with him he says flatly, “It wasn’t a long calculating decision.” He shrugs. “I’ve already made that choice before… You’re not the first I’ve taken a bullet for.” He goes back to looking intently out of the hole in the wall as he adds, “All I had to figure out was if you were worth the risk and the pain… and I’d already figured that one out by then too… So when the time came, I just acted…”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she stares at him. She leans over, lowering and tilting her neck so she can look at his face and regain his direct attention. “But why? After everything that’s happened. You didn’t owe me that.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks at her out of the corner of his eye, then finally turns face to face as she seems to refuse to accept anything short of his full attention. He leans closer to her and says softly, “I might not agree with your train of thoughts, or your brash attitude.” He lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes. “Or some of your other life choices… but…” He looks at her and taps her on the shoulder with his hoof. “I’d seen enough of you to know you’re a good pony at your core… For the most part.”

Swift smiles a bit then partially closes her eye as she asks, “‘For the most part’? What’s that about?”

Gearing looks at her sideways and says flatly, “The decision to run off and join the Reapers is a bit suspect…” Her eyes go to their widest and he turns to face her as he asks, “Did you know?”

Swift closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She shakes her head as she opens her eyes and gives him the respect of her undivided attention and focus. “Gearing, I’m sorry. I…” She shrugs as she tries to think of how to explain it. She taps her forehooves together sheepishly as she admits, “I mainly entered the fights to test my own skill… to find a challenge… to push myself further. They all seemed to be looking for the same thing. It seemed like a good opportunity…” She looks over to the side and lets out a sigh as she closes her eyes. “And with their influence… I thought… I thought…” She looks up at Gearing and shrugs. “I thought I’d be able to use their influence to keep my family safe. I didn’t think they’d be the kind to sucker others into fights.”

Gearing looks her over and raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you think happened?”

Swift shrugs. “Well, there was Gauge… and he’s a coward, so I know there’s no way in hell he’d just volunteer for some kind of death match.” She motions towards him and adds, “And you’ve repeatedly told them to take a hike every time you stepping in the ring was brought up. So I knew something had to be up when suddenly you were in there.” She looks him over then asks, “What…? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So you really didn’t know?”

Swift stares at him for a moment, then realizes her own apparent ignorance as she shakes her head. “I guess not… I’m not an idiot… but judging by your response I’m guessing there’s more to it than just that…?”

Gearing nods as he turns entirely to face her and lifts up his left foreleg to reveal his own PipBuck. “In short I was extorted into a fight. No Shoes wanted Gauge’s PipBuck, and I couldn’t let them have it…” Swift’s eyes go wide and he asks, “So you realize the problem if they got their hooves on it?”

Swift nods slowly. “I know enough of them to know they could have used it to find and get access to the stable…”

Gearing nods and motions towards her. “Great… so that’ll make this easier then… because they told me either I give it to him, just because he wanted it, just because he’s a fucking Reaper… or I would have to fight him for it.” He leans in closer to Swift as he adds, “Or I’d end up fighting all of the Reapers and the Freight Cars, for not playing along with the rules, that was my third option…”

Swift’s eyes go wide and she puts a hoof to her mouth as she quickly runs the entire scenario through her mind and starts plugging this new information into missing gaps. Including his final statement in the ring about ‘threatening his foals’. She pulls her hoof away from her mouth and asks softly, “You killed him so they wouldn’t find out where my foals are… to protect my family?”

Gearing nods lightly and adds, “And everypony else in the stable… If they got their hooves on it, we’d never be able to feel safe again. Especially with their blatant willingness to rob and exploit others for their own amusement.”

Swift looks down and her eyes start darting around as she starts running one scene after another though her mind. He’s strange. Not even including his whole ‘curse’ deal. The incident when he attacked her while she was asleep was, as far as she can recall, the only real blemish on his record. And now that she’s thinking about it far more clearly, instead of in a grumpy stupor of sleep deprived anger, she can see how he truly had her best interests in mind. Her well-being. At the time he plead ignorance and innocence, and she didn’t really believe him. She’d thought he was simply trying to play it off given his attempt had failed. But. It obviously didn’t. If he had wanted her dead, he wouldn’t have needed to try and slap her to Luna with a thousand hoof clops.

He could have just sat on her while she slept and it would have been her end. No Shoes was proof of his ability, and willingness, to put his ridiculous bulk to use in lethal context if and when he deems it necessary.

Which means, he was telling the truth. The entire time. Though that raises more than a few concerns about his mental stability if he’s hallucinating about sleeping mares spontaneously combusting in front of him.

But, regardless of that, it’s undeniable that his heart has been, and is, in the right place.

Which just makes her feel even worse about how he’d been getting treated and what he’d had gone through over the last few weeks.

She hangs her head and looks around at the various debris on the floor as she says, “I’m sorry you had to go through that for us.”

Gearing turns back towards the hole and resumes his watch as he says flatly, “Better me, than somepony else. I can take it.”

She scoots a bit closer and says quietly, “Gearing, I meant what I said earlier…” She shakes her head. “You’re not disposable… If something happened to you, you’d be missed.” She shakes her head again and smiles as she adds, “And not simply because of your technical ability.” She reaches over and taps him on his chest. “You have a good heart, Gearing… Sable would miss you. The children would miss you. Your friends would miss you…” She leans over, closes her eyes, and gives him an encouraging side nuzzle as she smiles and says, “And, yes, I’m pretty sure I’d miss you as well…”

Her smile quickly falls off her face as she pulls back and maintains eye contact with him, as he’d turned his head enough to look at her sideways. She’d meant it as a way to let him know he was truly appreciated. But to say the maneuver was cold, would be a colossal understatement. It wasn’t simply his metal hide, she’d expected that. But in this particular case he was as unyielding as the earth itself. Like she’d just bumped into a cloth covered piece of furniture or attempted to nuzzle a pillar. And she’d gotten about just as much out of it in return.

She’d seen him and Sable nuzzling each other. In mutual love and affection for one another. His body, despite standard logic, has the capability of being as flexible and dexterous as any other pony. Fluid movements included. The pair have repeatedly nuzzled each other with a fluidity that had seemed so natural. But this wasn’t like that. There wasn’t even the automatic response most give just out of the joy of such contact and tenderness being showed them.

He didn’t lean into it. He didn’t move with it. He didn’t even shy away from it.

From all she can tell, given she’d had her eyes closed, he’d simply looked over to see what or who was touching him. Like somepony had just accidentally bumped into him with a shopping cart and he was trying to sort out if he needed to move or not. Nothing more. She’s worried that she’d overstepped or done something wrong as she maintains eye contact and tries to think of something to say to salvage the situation. But then he does the unexpected. Again.

He smiles.

Gearing returns the gesture with a reciprocated side nuzzle, in the same manner as she had done, as he says, “Thanks. It’s… nice to be treated as more than just some machine.”

Again she’s caught off guard. And her previous expectations are, again, smashed against the wall of reality. This time, instead of the solid block of inanimate material she’d expected, she’s treated with a flowing level of tenderness. One that she has a hard time grasping the physical possibility of. His plates, his gears, all move along in a smooth fashion. But they all do so in a way that is gentle and soft as they press against her pelt. Applying just enough pressure to be comforting, instead of hard and abrasive.

And she instantly realizes it’s because, this time, he’s not only aware, but that’s what he wanted, what he willed them to do.

Consciously.

Again demonstrating a kind heart beneath a literally hard exterior.

She shakes her head as she looks at the floor. “I’m not going to the arena. I’m not going to be apart of something so… despicable…” She looks up at him and frowns. “It wasn’t right what they forced you into.”

Gearing looks back through the hole and pays careful attention to the light coming in through the glass of the front door. “You’re free to make up your own mind… but would you at least listen to some advice? Maybe keep an open mind to a separate opinion?”

She wasn’t expecting that at all. Given his out right slaughter of No Shoe’s she’d almost expected him to start making plans on hunting them all down like the radhogs he’d picked off from the bushes not long ago. She tilts her head as she asks, “What’d you have in mind?”

Gearing glances at her sideways, and sees the undivided attention he’s earned. So he does in kind, and looks her right in the eye, face to face, as he says, “Hold off… at least as long as you can stomach it… We’ve had limited exposure to this group. And the only real reaper we’ve met, as far as I know, is Big Daddy…” He waves a hoof dismissively. “No Shoes doesn’t count. He wasn’t a Reaper long enough to really say if the others are like him or not. So we don’t really know what they are like… That rule could just be something stupid that they don’t regularly exploit… or it could…” He puts a hoof to his chest as he says, “I’d really rather get to know more about them before making any rash decisions… You might be right… their influence could be helpful. And that would be hard to figure out if we lay our cards out on the table already and tell them in advance that we’re not going to play their game.”

Swift looks him over before asking with a smirk, “And what if they are as bad as No Shoes, or worse? What then?”

“We deal with it as best we can, but either way we’re going to need to know more about them before we get to the point of having to handle them. If that’s what it comes to.”

Swift’s eyes jump wide open as she stares at him. She’d actually expected that answer. If not worse. Possibly with some form of typical Gearing over confidence and bravado. But what she wasn’t prepared for was that quick shift in his eyes. It was only for a moment. But she saw it.

It was the same look he had in his eye when he declared the fight with No Shoes ‘an execution’.

Swift smiles as she shrugs. “Well, that makes sense… but… don’t worry. If it comes to that…” She reaches over and taps on his shoulder with her hoof. “I’ll have your back and be right there with you pounding their sorry asses into the pavement.”

Gearing smirks and brings a wingtip out from his cloak to hold it up for emphasis as he says, “If it comes to that…No point in looking for a fight when it’s already coming. Until we’re ready, anyway… until then...” He shrugs. “Just play it cool until we can figure them out better.” Swift nods and smiles, so he goes back to looking through the hole in the wall before he says, “Sorry for ditching like I did… I didn’t want to end up in a constant cycle of getting challenged for one stupid thing or another… and I didn’t know what other rules they’d try to spring on me…”

Swift starts snickering, which devolves into a steady laugh as she tries her best to hold her muzzle closed and hide the mirth that’s doing it’s best to burst out.

Gearing lays his ears back as he stares at her. “Oh fuck, what now?”

Swift waves it off with a wing then giggles some more before she looks at him and tilts her head. “Well… it’s about rules that you weren’t aware of that you were trying to avoid before they got dropped on you…”

Gearing narrows his eyes and asks, “And?”

Swift smirks and giggles again as she puts her forehooves up in mock surrender. “Promise not to shoot the messenger?”

Gearing slaps a hoof over his eyes as he asks with a sigh, “What now?”

Swift giggles a bit more before she replies, “It has to do with how to become a Reaper.”

Gearing pulls his hoof away and waves it at her. “I know that much, beat a buncha wannabe’s and work your way to the top until you’re promoted… What… why are you looking like your going to laugh even harder now?”

Swift snickers then says with a twinkle in her eye, “Yeah… that’s one way… but there’s another way too…”

“And?” Gearing asks as he’s dreading the coming punch line.

Swift nods and leans towards him. “Killing a Reaper is another way to get in… Either beating up a bunch of other wannabe’s to prove how tough you are… or taking out one that’s already gone through the process, and proving your better than them…” Swift waves her hoof around as she smirks. “They only want the best, so that’s how their ranks are full of only the toughest ponies in the wastes… and if your tough enough to take one down, you’ve already earned your place.”

Gearing’s eyes slowly go ever wider, revealing even more of their brushed copper shine. “And… No Shoes just made the cut…” Swift nods, and smirks even more. “You’re not serious…”

“‘fraid so.” Swift replies with an even wider grin.

“What’d the say?” Gearing asks with a groan.

Swift shrugs. “Most of them just asked me to pass along their congratulations… It was pretty unanimously agreed that, with your display in the ring, you were well deserving of the title.” She shrugs again. “Well, Big was a bit more reserved on it. Wasn’t happy that he didn’t get to talk to you before they left. But he did tell me to pass along a message.”

“And what’s that?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Swift smirks and taps him on the chest. “He said to tell you, that he can understand why you said he really wouldn’t want to watch you fight. That he’s still waiting to see you in an actual fight, because what happened in the ring, was no fight. And now he’s even more curious of just what you’re capable of.”

Gearing groans and then slaps a hoof over his eyes as he moans, “Great… a glowing-eyed fan-buck with an invested interest in keeping the status quo… fuck.” He moves his hoof out of the way and asks, “He say anything else?”

Swift shakes her head. “Not really. Just that he looks forward to seeing you again.” She shrugs. “A lot of the Freight Cars were asking when you were going to the arena to make it official… but that’s about it.” She notices Gearing’s head go back to focusing at the hole and asks softly, “What do you keep looking at anyway?”

Gearing nods through the hole towards down below. “I’ve seen several groups walk back and forth in front of the building, but none have walked in so far.”

Swift leans over and looks down through the hole as she asks quietly, “Are they hostile? Should we take them out?”

Gearing shrugs. “No idea. Won’t know until I actually see them or they do something.”

Swift looks sideways at him and raises an eyebrow. “‘See them’? You just said there’s been groups going by, how you know that if you can’t see them?” She twitches her ears and adds, “Or even hear?”

Gearing nods towards the lower levels. “Look, there goes another group…at least three.”

Swift looks down quickly and stares into the open space below, but ends up shrugging and shaking her head as she stares at the floor of the office building’s foyer. “I don’t see anypony.”

Gearing smirks and says, “Of course not.” She looks at him sideways and raises an eyebrow so he explains, “They’re out walking in the street… But the angle of the sun is casting their shadow on the glass across the street, and blocking the light that’s getting reflected down into the foyer.” He nods towards the lower levels again. “See… the dust in the air gets ever so darker, but it travels from one side of the building to the other, not just randomly.” He nods towards the floor. “That’s somepony walking by and blocking the reflected light with their body.”

Swift keeps staring at it, and then smirks as she says, “I’ll have to trust you on that one… because, I’ll be honest, I haven’t noticed a single thing.”

Gearing chuckles as he keeps looking down at the floor below them. “Well, it’s a good thing my eyes are so good.”

Swift shakes her head and turns to head back up. “I’m going to go check on the others. If you need any help, just holler, we’re right upstairs.”

Gearing smirks and keeps looking down at the floor below. “If I need help, I’ll let you know… Enjoy the break…”

Footnote: Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

‘gravity assistant matrix’ reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

This chapter delves into a few personal / interpersonal issues, along with drumming up a few more questions to the surface about our local Clockwork repairpony. This also points out and answers some questions a few of my observant readers have had about certain rules and traditions that Gearing wasn't even aware of. But now has to deal with the repercussions of. Kudos for guessing correctly!

Thanks to my helpers for helping me get this chapter out. The support in both encouragement and active forms has been a god send. Thank you all!

As always Critiques, comments, and suggestions are welcome and encouraged

-Quillsy

43 Halfhearted Attempt

When Swift gets back upstairs she finds Sable and Nahlah off to the side, organizing the various bags Sable had been carrying so the supplies are sorted to make more sense. Instead of simply crammed in as quickly and tightly as she could get them at the time. Handy has likewise obviously finished eating, and is currently occupying his ‘waiting’ time by sifting through the various filing cabinets.

Handy catches eye contact with Swift and asks as he closes the drawer, “You’ve been gone a while… everything okay?”

Swift walks over to him and nuzzles him before she sits down and leans into him sideways. “Yeah… I just had to get some answers…”

Handy lifts his foreleg, slides her so she’s more leaning against his chest than his shoulder, and then pulls her in tighter. “And?”

Swift lets out a sigh as she closes her eyes. She tilts her head and looks him in his eyes as she says softly, “He fought, and killed that buck… to protect our foals…” She shrugs and nuzzles into Handy more as she closes her eyes. “To keep the location of our stable safe.”

Handy raises an eyebrow and asks with a scoff, “Yeah? How’s that?”

“Handy,” Swift says with a sharp tone that demands he takes her seriously. “They wanted Gauge’s PipBuck…” She clearly hears, and feels, Handy’s sudden sharp intake of air. She looks him in the eye and adds, “You know what that means… And Gearing’s only two options were give it to them, or fight…”

Handy’s eyes dart from looking at one of Swift’s to the other. “You’re kidding?! Why’d they do that? Did they know how to use them and wanted it for some kind of double cross?”

“Actually that disgusting buck, the one Gearing quite literally knocked the head off of? Yeah, well, his dumbass just wanted it as a trophy of some kind,” Nahlah chimes in from her position near Sable.

Handy looks over at her while Sable adds, “Subject No Shoes was adamant on claiming Subject Gauge’s PipBuck. My darling Gearing tried to convince him otherwise, but Subject No Shoes simply became more arrogant. My Gearing even went so far as to explain to him why he didn’t want to give it to him, explaining why it would be dangerous to do so and why he just couldn’t.”

Nahlah nods as she frowns and continues, “Yeah, all it did was make him want it more…” Nahlah gets a smug grin as she waves it away dismissively with a paw. “So Gearing beat him at his own game, and killed the pushy bastard.” She closes her eyes and waves a paw around like she’s writing midair. “Dear Diary… Karma’s a bitch… thank yooooou!”

Swift smirks as she looks at Nahlah’s smug display. She nuzzles into Handy a bit more before asking, “We ready to go or do you want to scavenge around some more first?”

Handy waves it away and nods towards the door. “I was just looking around while we were waiting for you to get back. Doesn’t seem like there’s much left here anyway.” He points over to an overturned desk and adds, “Got a bit of glue and a few caps out of there, but the rest was just empty or full of worthless trash.”

Sable stands up as she’s using multiple cables to load up with the newly organized bags. “I am ready to continue at any point, Subject Swift. Should I go inform my darling Gearing of our approaching departure?”

Swift shakes her head and pulls away from Handy as she gets up. “No need. He’s just at the bottom of the stairs. We’ll grab him on the way out.”

They gather up their possessions and let Swift lead the way down. With Handy and Nahlah right behind her, and Sable bringing up the rear with her minigun held loosely to her back.

As Swift is coming down the last of the stairs she calls out, “Hey, Gearing, we’re ready to go. Sable’s got the rest of your stuff so if you need anything ask-” She stops mid-sentence as she gets to the bottom of the stairs. She starts looking back and forth as she asks, “Gearing?”

Handy steps down and over next to her as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Swift points over to the corner, with the hole in the wall near it, and replies, “He was just there keeping watch over the entrance.”

Nahlah walks around them and looks about as she asks, “Maybe he saw something, and went to investigate?”

Swift rubs her chin for a moment before shrugging. “He’d said something about noticing somepony walking around out front…” She nods and turns towards this office suite’s front door as she says, “I bet he went to the main lobby to look out the glass and see who was actually walking around out there.”

Nahlah follows her quickly as she asks, “You don’t think he got in trouble, do you?”

Swift waves it away dismissively as she opens the door and heads down the hallway to the grand staircase. “If he got into any actual trouble, we’d hear the commotion. I’m sure.”

They continue down and around the winding hallways until they come to the landing where everything converges at the top of the large staircase leading to the ground level. Swift, leading the group, stops short at the top of the staircase and stares down at the large foyer for the office building. Her eyes slowly go wide as she says softly, “I… found Gearing.”

Sable happily trots up, passing the others quickly, as she comes around Swift to see where she’s looking. Instantly her eyes begin glowing red and the minigun whips around, being held aloft by her restraining cables, as she slowly starts making her way down the steps.

Handy stands next to Swift and starts motioning down the stairs with his forehoof as he asks quietly, “Uh… they… they weren’t here when we got here… right? I… I didn’t somehow overlook that, did I?”

Nahlah meanders by, taking in the sight as she confirms, “No, Handy. The entry wasn’t full of dead ponies when we came in… Don’t worry, you’re not that blind…”

Swift starts coming down the steps as well, with Handy close at her side, as they both take in the scene.

A group of five ponies lay scattered around the lobby of the office building. With the closest one being just a few steps away from the stairs up, before apparently likewise being gunned down. Earth pony. Unicorn. Buck. Mare. All equally lay in growing puddles of their own blood. Except one earth pony buck, that’s partially laying over a trash can, where he apparently crashed into it as he was falling and never got back up.

In the center of the area, is a growing pile of salvage that slowly grows larger, as Gearing, with his cowl thrown back, tosses and slides over one item after another to it. He’s currently sorting through the bags of the buck splayed out over the trash can, with his back to the group, as he flicks a small cloth bundle across the floor towards the salvage pile he’s accumulating.

Sable walks up next to Gearing and scans the scene, with both her eyes and the end of her minigun, as she asks, “Did you run into some trouble, my love?”

Gearing looks at her sideways and smirks. “Nope. No trouble at all. Why do you ask?”

Sable lowers her eyes towards Gearing and tilts her head. “Is this more of My Gearing’s sarcasm and humor?”

Swift walks around the bodies as she keeps zipping her eyes about the lobby. She says softly, “I didn’t even hear anything… What happened?”

Gearing turns his head and looks at Swift out of the corner of his eye before giving her a smug grin. “They didn’t hear anything either.” He points up towards the hole in the wall that he’d been peeking out of earlier with a wing before shrugging. “Well, actually, that mare by the stairs heard this guy crash into the trash can when he went down, but that was about it.”

Swift looks the scene over again, and the hole he’d been looking through, and, again, is very thankful that there were no hostiles in his previous position when they’d come in. She was right. This group didn’t even make it to the stairs. And she sees no reason why somepony else couldn’t have done the same to them. She shakes her head as she looks over at the growing pile. “Back to building up your stockpile for what was lost when we got shot down?”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “Actually, I’m wanting to make sure we have enough to trade once we get to Megamart. I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure how much we’re going to need in order to buy the parts we need for the stable. So the more we can get before getting there the better.”

Handy walks around towards the growing pile as he asks, “There a particular reason you just gunned them down, or was it just for their saddlebag contents?”

Swift shoots him a dirty look, but Gearing replies faster, “They’re more of those Wild Ones that the Freight Cars were fighting and shot me down. Fuckers like that are fair game for an ambush.”

Handy looks over at him and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “How you know they’re Wild Ones? Especially if you didn’t give them a chance to say anything before you blew their brains out over the tile?”

“I could see it in their twitchy ass eyes. No telling what they were hopped up on… And if that wasn’t enough, the amount of drugs they’re trotting around with is absurd.” Gearing chucks over another improvised cloth bag that he’d pulled out from the buck over the trash can, this time without rewrapping it back tighter before doing so, causing the contents to spill out as it tumbles into the rest of the pile.

Handy’s eyes follow the cloth bundle, and go just a bit wider as the contents scatter out. But, despite the variety that comes out, his eyes follow a particular small bottle as it tumbles away towards his hooves. Handy doesn’t say anything else, the conversation forgotten as the little bottle gently bumps against his forehoof, as if asking if he’s their new owner.

“Handy!” Swift yells as she runs over. She quickly swipes up the bottle with a wing, and starts pushing him away from the growing pile, and the other corpses. She keeps pushing him back as she gets in his face. “No! No you don’t! Don’t even look at it! You sit right there and don’t move!”

Handy looks up into her eyes, and opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again. He goes through a few cycles of trying to retort. To say that he’s fine. That he wasn’t going to do anything. Instead he eventually complies. He closes his eyes as he sits down and slowly nods his head.

Swift hops over to the pile of salvage and starts sifting through the contents. She pulls out a couple more containers and grumbles as she heads over to Gearing. She holds them out to Gearing and asks, “Could you do something with these? Please? Don’t let them out of your sight.”

Gearing looks down at the bottles, then over at Handy. He lets out a sigh and leans towards Swift as he asks, “Is it just the Buck that’s the problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” Handy yells from his seat as he momentarily looks up enough to scowl at Gearing before staring daggers at some poor piece of rubble near his hooves.

Swift looks over her shoulder at Handy, then back at Gearing before nodding slightly. She replies quietly, “It’s just the Buck… He’s okay around the rest… but… he’s just…” She shakes her head and smiles lightly. “He’s gotten better. Really. He has. But I just don’t want him getting tempted into it again.”

Gearing grabs the bottles and lets out a sigh. “I wish ya would have said something sooner, I wouldn’t have been so careless.”

Swift closes her eyes and shakes her head. “It’s not your fault…”

Gearing rattles the bottles with his hoof as he says, “Probably better to just destroy it. Can’t be worth enough, caps wise, to justify the risk.”

Swift looks at him and shakes her head. “Can’t just throw them away, he might try to sneak off and get them.”

Gearing looks at her and smirks. “I didn’t say throw away… I said destroy… They’re just pills after all. Not exactly hard.”

Swift’s eyes go wide and she asks softly, “You know how to do that?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah. No problem.”

Swift pulls out the bottles she’d confiscated from Handy before. “Could you get rid of these too?”

Gearing nods as he looks them over. Then lets out a slow sigh. “Damn... That’s a lot.”

Swift tilts her head. “Too much to do at once?”

Gearing shakes his head and grins. “Nah… not for me.” He tilts his head and wiggles his eyebrows “Have you met me yet?”

Swift snickers then passes them over as she grins. “Alright, smart ass. Well, get to it. Do you need any other equipment or chemicals?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah, got everything I need already.” He starts opening up all of the containers and dumping the pills out into a small tin can. Swift watches in curiosity as he quickly fills the can with more pills than any one pony should have in their possession. Handy, despite his best attempts, stares at the can intently. But, to his credit, he manages to keep his own impulses in check and stays seated. Right where he was told. On the opposite side of the lobby. As he watches and practically counts the pills fall into the can in slow motion.

After Gearing tosses the last of the pills into the can, Swift looks up at his face and asks, “How long you think this’ll take?”

Gearing smirks as he looks her in the eyes. “Not long, just a few seconds really.”

She raises an eyebrow as she looks at him, then her mouth drops open as he throws his head back and starts pouring the pills into his mouth like he was drinking a glass of water. She hops over and tries to grab the can away, but doesn’t get it away from him in time before the last pill goes tumbling into his mouth.

He stares at her with one eyebrow raised as his mouth is puffed up like an over ambitious chipmunk. He chews, rather noisily, and quickly starts swallowing down the mass. He uses a canteen and starts swishing around the water in his mouth as he washes the rest of it down his throat.

Handy jumps over from his seat as he waves both forhooves at Gearing, and nearly falls flat on his face for his troubles. “Why he get to do that!? And you complain about me!?”

Swift looks at Gearing, absolutely appalled and horrified, as she screams at him. “The hell are you trying to do!? Kill yourself?! You said you were going to destroy them not take them!” She looks over at Sable and waves a hoof at Gearing. “Sable! Quick! We need to get some healing potions ready and get something to keep him from OD’ing!”

Gearing reaches up, and taps Swift’s hoof as she waves it at him, in a very awkward brohoof, to get her attention. When she looks over at him he snickers and replies, “Swift, I’m fine, I’m not going to OD.”

Her eyes go wide open as she flops down on her rear and points both forehooves at him. “You just ate like six whole bottles worth!”

Gearing smirks at her, then opens his mouth for her to see as he points inside it with his hoof. “See, gone. And no effect.” He tilts and shakes his head as he taps on his chest. “Swift, they’re chemically and magically inert for me. They do nothing for me. And can’t hurt me. They’re just the common standard Buck, so they can’t do anything to me.”

Handy, hyper-focusing so much that he caught the word usage, looks him over slowly as he asks, “There’s other kinds of Buck? Non-standard?” Swift shoots him a scathing stare and he quickly adverts his eyes as he realizes the question would have seemed less suspicious coming from somepony else.

Gearing sighs as he looks at Handy and shakes his head. But, for better or worse, he replies anyway, “There were many experimental versions tested and tried out during the war. Some mixed with other chemicals to make their effects more potent. Some enhanced in other ways. None of them should be taken lightly though… Even short term use can have lasting effects.” Handy looks over at him and frowns, but, after achieving eye contact, Gearing shakes his head and continues, “It has nothing to do with weakness nor willpower. It’s straight science. They can be physically addictive and cause chemical changes and imbalances. Which can lead to psychological changes and addiction as well.” He shrugs as he looks at Handy and finishes quietly, “You wouldn’t feel embarrassed because you bleed after getting shot, and try to deny it. There’s no point in doing it here either.”

Handy tilts his head as he regards Gearing. He gives a slight nod before he turns his focus down and to the side as he mulls it over. It’s a weird way of phrasing it, but he’s pretty sure he understands what Gearing is trying to say.

The rewards for Gearing’s efforts at lowering the overall threat level of the region, by removing these five Wild Ones members from existence, were rather pitiful. The weapons they carry are in typically bad shape for ponies that care more about their next fix than anything else in the world. And as far as supplies go the only thing they really seem to be carrying is ammo and various chems. Not even a bottle of water or can of corn among them. But, to them that seemed to be enough.

Though, for Gearing, it makes decisions for what to take much easier, as the rest of it isn’t even worth his time. The weapons may be in poor shape, but, as long as he can spare the pack weight, he figures he can fix them up and trade them off later. He relieves the Wild Ones of a couple of their more intact saddle bags, then begins filling them up and stowing them on his own harness.

Swift watches him load himself down with the bulging bags as she puts a hoof over her muzzle to muffle her snicker. She smirks at Gearing and asks, “So we going to just fly straight there, or zigzag across Equestria gathering salvage until you can’t walk any more?”

Gearing smirks as he attaches the last bag and shakes his head. He looks over at Swift and raises a hoof as he says, “Actually, we really do need to make a detour on the way to Megamart.”

Nahlah snickers and swishes her tail as she looks at Swift and says, “Oh boy… here we go…”

Swift lets out a sigh then motions for Gearing to continue on with a forehoof. “What else do you need to get before we get there?”

Gearing shakes his head and pulls up the navigation function on his PipBuck. “It’s not what I need to get, but what we need to avoid.” He glances up at them before pointing off to the northeast as he continues, “If we try and go straight there, it’ll be a bad idea.”

Nahlah walks over and sits next to him, leaning into him as she looks at his PipBuck screen. “What’s the problem?”

Gearing draws a line across the map with a wingtip from their current location, to the set marker labeled ‘Megamart’. He traces it back as he says, “If we keep on this route, we’ll be going through this area, right here.” He taps on an empty space on his map as he frowns. “And that’s the problem.”

Nahlah looks at it for a few moments, partially expecting some more information to pop up on the screen, before she looks up at Gearing and says softly, “I don’t get it, what’s wrong?” Swift and Sable likewise walk over to look at his map as they try to get their plan sorted out.

Gearing taps on the area again after he looks the three over. “Right around here is Miramare Air Station.” He looks at them again, individually, as he adds, “A military installation, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

Nahlah smirks as she looks at him. “I kinda figured that out by the name, Gearing.”

Gearing snickers as he shakes his head before he taps on it again. “Short of some colossal luck, Miramare would have been hit. Hard. Judging by all of the prediction maps of damage, it would have been targeted. Whether we fired first or not.” He taps on the screen and closes out of it as he looks them over. “So, even if it’s still standing, which I highly doubt, it’s most likely still highly contaminated with radiation, or worse.” He motions towards Swift and Nahlah. “Which means you three would be dead in short order if we went through there.

Swift pulls her head back a bit and shakes it as she looks at him. “Where’d you see those kinds of diagrams at? I never heard of anything that had listed Miramare as a target.”

Gearing looks at her and grins as he tilts his head. “Have you met me yet?” He snickers before ruffling his wings and turning towards the front door. “There’s a reason the stables were built all over the place and scattered around like they were… And it wasn’t just to make them close and convenient for participants. While the government would never have acknowledged it at the time, they knew, just as well as Stable-Tec, that attacks would be wide spread. That any and every installation would be primary targets.” He points off to the northeast. “And Miramare was a particularly high one.”

Swift and Nahlah look at each other before they look at Gearing. Nahlah motions for him to continue as she asks, “Well… why?”

Gearing looks over at her and sighs. “It was the staging ground for the Marauders. And, while they weren’t really around anymore, it would have been a blow to morale if nothing else. Taking out the home of one of the most famous units in the E.D.F. would be a sting not easily forgotten…” He looks back at the door and nods as he marks a track in the air with a wingtip as he mentally visualizes the path. “So we’re going to need to go more north, and curve around, and come at Megamart more from the west.” He draws a sloppy over-turned ‘J’ in the air back and forth. “And just hope we don’t run into any more surprises along the way.”

Swift nods as she heads over to the front door and peeks outside. “Sounds like as good of a reason as any to avoid the area to me… But we should get out of here before some of their friends show up.” Swift waves a wing towards the corpses in the lobby as she keeps an eye out through the dirty glass front of the building.

Gearing walks over as he nods. “Well, let’s get to it. I’ll take point.” He throws the hood of his cloak back on and slips out of the door quickly into the early afternoon light.

As the rest are following him out into the street filled with rusting wagon wrecks, Nahlah slinks up next to Swift and asks softly, “Hey, Swift…?”

“Yeah, Nahlah?”

Nahlah keeps walking alongside her as she’s looking around. “So, he just ate like six bottles worth of Buck, right?”

Swift lets out a sigh and nods. “Yeah… he did…”

“Aaaand he’s drank several potions that I’ve seen… along with a few other things…” Nahlah continues in the same tone.

Swift nods as she keeps her eyes jumping from one area to another looking for anyone trying to be clever and ambush them. “Yeah, he went through quite a few when he got shot down, blown up, and crushed.” Swift cringes and blinks a few times as she runs it through her head a few more times. Yes. That really did happen. And she really did just recite it off that casually. She shakes her head again and looks at Nahlah. “What about it?”

Nahlah scans the area quickly before leaning closer to Swift and asking quietly, “Well, where’s he put it?” Swift looks at her and raises an eyebrow so Nahlah frowns and adds, “You ever see him go to the bathroom? I mean it’s gotta go somewhere right?”

Swift opens her mouth to say something, then closes it and scrunches her lips to the side as she thinks it through. It’s not like she pays particular attention to anyone’s bathroom habits, aside from her own foals, but she’s still aware of at least a couple times when everyone else she’s known has excused themselves, at one point or another, to answer the call of nature. Except Sable, understandably why given her origins, and Gearing, less understandably and actually growing into mystifying as she actually thinks about it. It hadn’t even occurred to her that something is off. She’s honestly not even sure if, on some level, it’s because for most of the time with him she’s simply thought of him as another protectapony, or if it hadn’t occurred to her just because it simply hadn’t occurred to her. But, now that Nahlah’s pointed out the inconsistency, she quickly occupies her mind with the mystery. Nahlah’s got a point. He’s consumed, at bare minimum, a decent collection of potions, and a pharmacy’s worth of Buck. Volume wise, it has to go somewhere.

And, for most ponies, the end of that particular journey lays in the latrine.

Swift shrugs as she keeps staring at Nahlah. “Actually… no… I haven’t.”

Nahlah nods then cranes her neck around and yells, “Sable! Hey, Sable!”

Sable trots up next to her, opposite of Swift, and asks as she keeps looking around, “Yes, Subject Nahlah?”

Nahlah waves her paw around as she looks at Sable and asks, “Does Gearing ever go potty?”

Swift stumbles a bit as she can’t believe Nahlah would just ask that. But, then again, it is Nahlah. Queen of Shameless. “Nahlah! Why are you just asking that all of a sudden?”

Nahlah waves Swift away without even looking at her. “What? I figured if anypony would know, it’d be Sable… Well?”

Sable slowly brings her focus over to Nahlah as she continues walking in a straight line. The angle begins looking awkward as her focus is directed to those two, but the rest of her is traveling along at the same steady pace facing forward. After a few moments of silence, Sable replies, “That… is a negative, Subject Nahlah. I am not aware of any instances where Gearing has made use of any bathroom facilities…” She looks back and forth between the two as she asks, “Should I be concerned with his lack of bathroom breaks? Do you believe he is in need of a medical examination to see if he has any ailment impeding normal functions?”

Nahlah shakes her head. “No, I don’t think that’s the problem. He probably just doesn’t eat enough for it to really come up… I’m just trying to figure out where it goes… like… does it get incinerated… magically teleported? What?”

Handy walks up from Swift’s other side and asks with an eye half closed, “Are you three really talking about Gearing’s bathroom habits? This is weird. Even for you, Nahlah…”

Nahlah raises her chin and closes her eyes as she says, “I’m just curious on how somepony could hold it for so long, or go in a way that no one knows it’s happening.”

Gearing walks over from the side, having circled around a few wagon wrecks and come back to join them momentarily. However, having heard the last bit of the conversation, decides on double timing it past them again instead of joining the group. But, as he’s trotting away from them he grins and says with a chuckle, “There’s lots of explanations for it… Snipers wear diapers after all…”

Swift stumbles while walking again as Nahlah just starts laughing loudly. Swift scrunches her nose and shakes her head as she says, “Eeww, Gearing… that’s just… Ewww… Why would you even say something like that?”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes as he sighs. “I see I really shoulda just stayed away, and out of this conversation…”

Sable looks at Gearing and tilts her head as she watches him walk away quickly. “But… my darling Gearing isn’t wearing any diapers…” She looks at Nahlah, and then to Swift as she says, “I am afraid I do not get the reference, if there is one being made.”

Nahlah snickers and looks at Sable sideways, “I think he’s just messing with us.”

Swift purses her lips to the side as she crunches her nose in disgust. “I hope he’s just messing with us.”

Handy adds from the other side, “I just hope the conversation’s over now… please?”

The others snicker as they break off. Sable resumes her position bringing up the rear, with her minigun at the ready, and Nahlah meandering around taking in the sights. They end up making good time, despite having to skirt around large collections of rusting wagon wrecks. They emerge from the collection of buildings, and head along the side as they follow Gearing on a practically straight north track. Even after he’s pretty sure they’ve made it out of Freight Cars territory, Gearing regularly slows down his pace as he leads the advancement. He routinely looks around them, and even behind them, as, on some level, he expects someone to show up and demand a challenge fight. Or inform him that he wasn’t supposed to have won that fight, and they are going to fix the mistake by taking him, and the group, out.

Until something draws his attention off to the side, on the opposite side of the crumbling roadway right before the next intersection that opens up going to the left.

Gearing promptly changes direction and heads over to explore the capsized stack of metal boxes. He carefully looks them over, going one box at a time, as he tries to see if this is some sort of trap or distraction. There are only a couple metal boxes, but that’s not exactly what drew his attention. The roadways, and vehicles, have crates and boxes in and around them along the whole way. Over two hundred years worth of scavenging discards.

But this small group of boxes, scattered upon each other, aren’t from around here. The boxes, despite being apparently left out in the weather, are in remarkably good condition. Too good of a condition to have been left out here since the war ended. But, even with them being recently put here, there’s no indication that this is someone’s cache. They’re just left out in the open. For anyone to see.

Which is extremely suspicious to Gearing.

So he waves the others back, who had come over to see what he was up to, and starts checking them over for triggers, explosives, or other such fun toys.

Swift and Handy find a spot under a partially collapsed awning to wait, and Sable stands off and to the back to keep watch while Gearing goes about this task.

Nahlah explores around a bit, circling around as she gets a feel for the area they’ve found themselves in. She stops right before the end of the building, and starts hopping up and down excitedly. She turns to look back at the others as she points a paw across the street at the storefront on the adjacent corner. “Ouuu Ouu! Can we go there?!”

Swift walks over to join her as she asks, “Why? What do you see?” As Swift steps up next to Nahlah, she sees exactly what has Nahlah so excited.

In the storefront across the street is a set of ponaquins. One dressed in a formal tuxedo and looking rather dapper despite the dingy glass partially blocking their view. The other ponaquin is dressed in an elaborate lacy white gown with a variety of sparkling embellishments on it. Cascading over the rump of the ponaquin is a long train that has been set up to coil down and around the floor of the display case. Long enough that it travels over and seems to be encircling the ponaquin in the tuxedo. The name of the shop had been destroyed long ago, along with the display case on the left side of the building. But, for the most part, the store looks rather intact, if that display case on the right side is any indicator.

Swift smirks as she looks at Nahlah and asks, “Ohhh? Planning on getting married, huh? Who’s the lucky buck?” She leans over and elbows Nahlah in the side. “Or are you and Ivy getting that serious?”

Nahlah’s mouth drops open wide as, for once, she’s actually caught off guard. Then she shakes her head and smirks before pointing over at the bridal shop again. “I was just thinking they might have a dress in there or something that’d go with the flower I’d found… or might have a few more that I could add to it.”

Swift snickers then motions over to the building. “Yeah, I’m sure a quick detour would be fine.” She turns and heads back to Handy, who’d gone over to inspect a collection of junk around one of the wagon wrecks. “Handy, we’re going to go check out the bridal shop. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Handy tosses the empty tool box he’d just been looking through over his shoulder and to the side as he says, “I’ll go with ya.”

Sable looks at them and nods. “Understood, Subject Swift. I shall maintain watch of the outside and protect my darling Gearing’s flank.”

Nahlah giggles as she hops and jumps out away from the building, and starts crossing the street towards the bridal shop. She glances down the road that continues on for some distance to the left as she pauses in the middle of the street. She looks over her shoulder and grins. “Well, hurry up already! I can’t wait to find out what’s inside!”

Nahlah turns and takes a few more steps, and then her back legs jerk sideways and stumble as they drag her to the ground by tipping over flank first. A group of cans go flying as an empty bottle in the debris pile with them shatters not far away from her.

Kra-KOW.

The report echoes off the buildings and travels down the street a fraction of a second later.

Nahlah’s eyes go wide as she pushes herself up with her forelegs, looking around as she asks shakily, “Wha- what happened?”

“Nahlah!” Swift screams as she clearly sees the blood splatter around Nahlah. And the growing puddle. She jumps towards her, fanning her wings to take flight, only to get yanked down by Handy as he jumps on top of her and pushes her to the ground behind one of the wagons abandoned in the road.

Gearing had been watching Nahlah hop around, rather amused, as he was opening the container. But the moment her body jerked, and her hind legs gave out from under her from the trauma, he dropped the box as he was opening it and began running in her direction. By the time the report of the rifle greeted them, he was just making it to the intersection. As he’s running out into the street, he screams, “Sniper! Get down!” And runs as fast as he can towards Nahlah.

Nahlah looks around in a daze and back at Gearing as he’s barreling towards her. She’s so out of it she doesn’t even register that he’s on a collision course with her. Until he’s already plowed into her and half grabs, half pushes, her as he carries her the rest of the way across the street and behind a rusted out overturned wagon.

Kra-KOW.

At the moment of contact with Nahlah, when he grabbed her, Gearing let out a grunt of pain and frustration as his right shoulder is impacted hard enough to make his foreleg jerk. A small hole announces where the round entered, but several smaller holes near it betray where the round had shattered on impact but still had enough force to continue going out of his cloak.

It’s at this point, after being bulldozed by such bulk, that Nahlah finally does get enough of her senses back to catch up to reality. At least enough to register the pain she’s feeling as she curls up, starts screaming, and holds her hips.

Gearing fishes around in his bag and pulls out a potion as quickly as he can. He pops the top and is about to give it to her, when he momentarily stops. He eyeballs it for a moment, and his eyes dart around as he takes in the surroundings. He mutters, “What the hell is up with this potion...”

The little blue pegasus in his head grumps, They probably bought some cheap ass watered down potions… It’s probably been cut with something…

Hopefully nothing worse than water… he mentally hopes. He sticks his tongue in the bottle just to make sure they haven’t been entirely bamboozled, and is greeted by the same familiar ‘taste’ of a healing potion. Although. Not nearly as strong as he would have expected. But maybe that has something to do with why this potion doesn’t look as opaque as he’s expecting.

Not really having any other choice, he grabs Nahlah’s mouth, and shoves the open end in it as he tries to hold her still and keep her from thrashing about. Having been in the middle of a rather impressive marathon long scream, Nahlah chokes a bit on the potion, but quickly starts drinking it down. Then eagerly takes the next one that is presented to her.

He pushes her down towards the ground as he says, “Stay down, this bastard’s not playing around.” He works his right shoulder and grumbles as he looks around and tries to figure out how to get away. They made it to the wagon. So they have a bit of cover.

Concealment, the little blue pegasus in his head warns him.

Right… concealment. Not cover. Cover would be better, but where?

The rest of the street is rather open. And they have quite the distance to travel just to get to the edge of this building. The display case isn’t far away, but he’s pretty sure they might have a vantage point into there as well.

He grumbles as he realizes they just stumbled across a shooting gallery. Somepony out there, or group of someponies, have this whole street set up as the perfect location for them to get some moving target practice. A nice long street, with little cover: a perfect kill zone.

Gearing looks to the side and starts sizing up the building they are crouched near.

Sable comes up to the corner of the intersection, but stays behind the building with her eyes glowing red, as she yells out, “Gearing, my love! I can provide suppressive fire for you to get away!”

Gearing looks over at her and screams back, “No, don’t! Keep an eye out, they might just be trying to pin us down for another prong to come in and finish us off!”

Sable’s eyes go wide and she whips around about face, scanning back and forth as she regularly revs the minigun. “Understood!”

Swift gets Handy off of her and scrambles near the wagon. She yells over the top, without exposing herself, “How bad is it?! Nahlah?! Gearing!? Where’d those shots come from!?”

Gearing yells back, “Nahlah needs more treatment. Stay away. They might be trying to use us as bait!”

Swift rolls over and peeks around the corner of the wagon at Gearing through the gap between the wagon wrecks. “The hell are we going to do!?”

Gearing laughs and looks back at where her voice came from. “Play a different game, of course!” He takes off his cloak and throws it over Nahlah as he says, “Cover up with this. We don’t want the debris in your wounds.” To which, she complies without complaint. Happy to have something, anything, more between her and the cruel world around her at the moment. He rolls over onto his belly, plants his forehooves, and starts bucking the brick wall behind him. The bricks, despite their quality manufacture, and surviving not only the apocalypse, but two centuries of weather and neglect, were not prepared for the brass hoofed onslaught brought upon them. In short order he’s started knocking out bricks, making, then widening, a hole near the foundation as Nahlah just stares in disbelief.

He turns around and scrambles inside as soon as he’s sure he’s made enough room for himself to do so.

Nahlah looks over at the pile of bricks, and Gearing disappearing inside, as she frowns. “Awww… I wanted to be the first one inside.” She closes her eyes and pulls the cloak closer to herself as she grumbles and snuggles into it more. A moment later she lets out a loud ‘Raaaaooowww’ as she is quickly yanked in through the hole by her shoulders and forelegs.

* * *

An ocher earth pony stallion hops and clamors over some rubble as he climbs up into the third floor of this small hotel. The roof of this room is entirely gone, and offers no protection at all from the elements, but that’s fine. He adjusts his wide brim hat as he slinks over to the hole in the wall where a sky wagon had crashed into it and knocked out the bricks before continuing down into the street below. His eyes dart around as he slips his rifle off his shoulder and points it down the road towards the last position of his target.

They hadn’t moved, he’s sure of it. They’ve been thoroughly pinned down. But, with the wagons overturned and blocking his view, he doesn’t really have a clear line of sight at any of them. But, he knows that model of wagon in front of the bridal store. If he can aim the shot correctly, he can punch right through that side panel by the fender, and hit them. Confirming the kill will be another problem.

He bites on the mouthgrip, as he braces the rifle, and sights down the scope as he uses it to look around. Still no sign of movement. It’s been a while and he’s getting increasingly frustrated as he isn’t pleased with whoever this is prancing around in their territory without showing them the proper respects. And those oversized cats never travel alone.

He’s about to go ahead and take the shot, when he tenses up and his eyes go wide. He pulls back from the scope just a tiny bit and slowly directs his eyes off to the left as he tries to look behind himself. He lets out a soft sigh and then a smile starts growing across his muzzle as he gives an indifferent swish of his tail.

“What is it with you guys?” Gearing asks as he steps up behind him. “That first buck was about as interested in how things were going to turn out as a foal would be in financial reports… and that second one looked damn near pleased at the outcome… What’s your story?”

The ocher stallion frowns as he spins around with the rifle to aim it at the unfamiliar voice behind him.

Gearing steps forward, and lifts up his left foreleg, causing the stallion’s rifle barrel to strike against his PipBuck, and come to a complete stop against it, before discharging harmlessly off to the side. Gearing grabs the rifle with both wings and his fetlock, then hits the ocher stallion with a jab to the chest that he actually steps into. The stallion gets knocked back into the corner of the room, in a near seated position, in obvious shock at being handled so roughly. So casually. With such a small amount of effort.

Gearing, wearing his cloak that now has patterns of splattered and smeared blood all over it, holds the rifle up and looks at it as he asks, “You guys part of the same group or something? Is that what this little trinket is for?” He uses his wing and flicks the small golden charm hanging from the stock of the rifle. Gearing eyeballs the stylized partial heart shape and comments, “Looks like one of those ‘Best friends forever’ necklace charms you’d get with a friend and each wear half… Weird.” He looks over at the stallion and says, “You know, if you’re suicidal… there’s far better ways to go about offing yourself, than the stupid shit you just pulled.”

The buck’s eyes go wide as he asks, “What?”

Gearing points a wing towards the end of the street where Nahlah is huddled inside of the bridal shop. “Shooting me is a good way of getting on my bad side, real quick. I don’t take kindly to getting shot…” He tilts his head and glares at the ocher buck from under the cowl as he takes in the simplistic equipment he’s wearing: a bandolier, with the rifle’s ammo filling up most of the length, a hat with even more bullets in the headband, and a solitary cloth bag with hardly anything in it, judging by how it’s mostly collapsed in on itself with only the faintest of lumps. He trails his focus back to the buck’s light brown eyes before he adds with a scowl, “But threatening or shooting my friends thoroughly pisses me off!” He takes a step towards him and asks, “The hell is your deal? You wanting to die or something?”

The buck stares back at him and murmurs, “More than you know.”

Gearing frowns as he stares at the stoic buck. The previous two were about as helpful. And threats, and actual death, did nothing to help Gearing thus far. He’s not entirely sure of how to deal with somepony like this. For whom death doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all. Gearing can’t help but smile as he gets an idea to do something he’d normally not even attempt. Not in this lifetime anyway.

Name-dropping.

Gearing twirls the rifle a bit, jingling the small metal heart fragment on the butt as he asks, “I don’t know if you know a buck named Big Daddy, but he’s not exactly the kind to piss off. He’s invited Iron Hoof to the arena to make her position official, and he’s really not somepony you want to keep waiting… And we’re really behind schedule already…”

“Big Daddy?”

Gearing nods.

“The Reaper?”

Gearing starts smiling as he pokes his muzzle out of the cowl so they can see it clearly.

“Big Daddy Reaper?!”

“He’s the only one I know.” Gearing grins widely and tilts his head before he asks, “So you’ve heard of him?”

The ocher stallion narrows his eyes at Gearing and lets out a snort. “Of course, who hasn’t?

“So you know how big of a bad idea it is to take shots at a Reaper?”

The ocher eyes, for once, actually show a bit more emotion as he says, “I didn’t shoot at any Reaper!”

Gearing raises a wingtip then points it at him. “True… but you shot her friend, and looked very much like you were going to actually try and shoot her as well… And, as they are both my friend… I hope you can understand why I’d think you just had to be suicidal to try something so stupid…” He looks him over and asks, “So you going to tell me what the hell you three were doing? The other two weren’t very chatty…” He uses a wing and drops two other rifles from under his cloak onto the floor next to himself, their golden charms glittering in the weak afternoon sunlight. The fresh blood splotches, mostly smeared from transport, draw the ocher stallion’s gaze before looking back up at Gearing.

“So they finally found some peace?” the ocher stallion asks as he looks Gearing in the eyes.

Gearing frowns and shrugs. “If you want to call it that… Was nothing ‘peaceful’ about it though…”

“I didn’t hear anything,” the buck comments as he doesn’t take his eyes off of Gearing’s.

Gearing shrugs and points down at the rifles again. “Gotta admit, you were the first one that got a shot off. The others I got their rifles away before they could get a round off at me.”

“Well… go ahead already… What are you waiting for? You already got my rifle.”

Gearing sighs as his hopes for name-dropping to get him to cooperate seem to evaporate. He starts narrowing his eyes at the buck as he says, “There’s far worse things than death.”

The buck frowns as he retorts, “Like living.”

Gearing looks him over for a few moments before sitting down. The comment strikes a chord with Gearing that mentally leads him all the way back to the floor of the hidden compartment in Stable 68’s R&D department. He lets out a sigh as he shamefully remembers everything he’d discovered, and realized, while going through the documents with Billiard’s family’s last days. “Sort of…” He waves a hoof as he says, “Living by itself can be nice and all… especially if you have somepony to share it with… I know that from firsthoof experience.” He shakes his head. “But, I also know the other edge of that sword…” The two stare at each other for a few moments before Gearing continues in a slow and low tone, “I lost everyone. Literally everypony I’d ever known. All of my friends... My family… Anyone and everyone I’d ever cared about, or cared about me, were killed.” He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes before he finishes, “This past month.”

When he opens his eyes he looks into the ocher buck’s eyes and sees not indifference, but a hint of acknowledgement. Of understanding. Though not a trace of pity or sadness. Simply recognition and nothing more.

Gearing nods off towards the bridal shop as he says, “Since then, I’ve made a couple new friends… and have found a bit of a new purpose to my life… It’s not much… and I know I’ll never live down the shame and horrible feeling of failing to protect the ones I cared about before… but I can damn sure do my best to help who I can now… And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” His eyes harden as he glares at the ocher buck. “So you going to tell me what this is all about, or you want me to start using my imagination? Why’d you target us? How long you been following us?”

The ocher buck takes in a deep breath then lets it out in a sigh as he brushes his yellow mane back under his hat. “We weren’t following you… You wandered into our territory and looked like trouble…”

Gearing tilts his head and narrows his eyes at him. “Trouble how? And whose territory are we in now?”

The ocher buck waves his hoof around and says flatly, “Halfhearts have the south Hoof… And the last time I saw a feline traipsing through the Hoof there were a lot more not far behind, bigger, and killing anypony they could get their paws on.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment before saying softly, “Bigger?” and then asks louder, “You mean like a manticore?”

The ocher buck nods. “Yeah. Those damn things.”

Gearing frowns as he looks at him. “Nahlah isn’t a manticore… she’s a Suncat. She’s about as big as she’s gonna get.”

“Well that explains the lack of wings,” the ocher buck says flatly.

“So, now that you know the real score, are we going to have a problem, or is this the end of it?” Gearing asks as he looks the buck over.

He looks at Gearing, or, more accurately, the blood stained cloak Gearing’s wearing, for a few moments before asking, “What? You’re willing to simply drop this, just like that? After we shot two of you?”

Gearing shrugs. “Well, I killed two of you… So I suppose it’s really up to you. Isn’t it? Personally, I’d prefer if we just end it here and leave it at that.”

“You’re just going to let me make the call? Just like that?”

Gearing looks him over and then nods. “What happens next entirely depends on you.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what else I can say or do to convince you.”

“I could just lie about it…”

“I don’t think you will.”

“I could shoot you in the back the moment you turn around.”

Gearing shrugs. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take… besides.” He uses a hoof and pushes the cowl off of his head as he stares at the ocher buck. He frowns as he says with a sigh, “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m a bit more bullet resistant than most bucks.” To the unknown buck’s credit, his eyes only darted over to take in the shattered-like pattern of gold on the left side of Gearing’s face long enough to confirm what it was before returning to looking Gearing in the eye.

They sit there staring at each other for a few moments before the ocher buck asks, “Is your friend really a Reaper? Simply claiming it is a really bad idea…”

Gearing shrugs and waves a hoof around as he explains, “I don’t know the official point where she becomes a Reaper… But she fought in a couple matches, and won. And the last one was at the Freight Cars terminal, where Big Daddy said the winner was going to the arena.” He motions towards the end of the street then towards the sniper in front of himself as he says, “So wherever along the line to becoming official that is, is where she’s at.”

“With a personal invite by Big Daddy?”

Gearing nods.

The ocher buck looks him over for a few moments before sighing and motioning towards Gearing as he says, “If it were just me, I’d say do it… but…” He looks Gearing in the face as he asks, “You’re not simply trying to get me to back down, are you?”

Gearing stares him in the eye and ever so slightly shakes his head. “Nope. If you’re not willing to back off, I’ll have no choice but to mark your whole group as a hostile force… Then proceed to eliminate the threat.”

The buck nickers and stares at Gearing. “A whole gang wiped out because somepony was stupid enough to shoot at a Reaper… sounds Reaperish alright…” He waves his hooves around and lets out a sigh. “Regardless how some might actually thank you for putting an end to this nightmare called ‘life’ I wouldn’t feel right making that decision for them…” He tilts his head and asks, “You really willing to let this slide, and not tell Big Daddy about this?”

Gearing nods. “As long as you all keep up your end of the bargain and not just start shooting us, yes. I won’t bring it up, and even if it does get brought up I’ll make sure everypony knows I dealt with it.”

The ocher buck runs a hoof through his mane as he looks around. “Well that’d be a bit of a problem, considering no one knows what she looks like yet…” He looks over at the rifles on the ground and nods towards them. “Keep one of the rifles slung over your shoulder, outside of the cloak. That charm on the stock should give them something to see through the scope. I’ll start spreading the word about you, but that’ll at least get them to ask who you are first. And, anypony asks, tell them to bring it up with Dolor.”

Gearing had looked down at the rifles and was debating on what to do with them as the ocher buck went over his suggestion. But, at the mention of the name, Gearing’s eyes jump up to him. “Dolor? Your name’s ‘Dolor’?”

“Yeah, that’s me… why?”

Gearing looks him over again as he wonders if Dolor knows what that name actually means. But then realizes the buck’s melancholy attitude is probably a big clue that he, in fact, does know. He’s not sure what a buck would have to go through in order to give themselves a name like that. Because, given the language, it’s not likely to be his given name. Gearing goes against the rampant questions streaming through his mind by the little blue pegasus in his head, and decides discretion is the better part of valor. So instead of asking one of the many questions that such a name would bring up, he simply nods towards Dolor and says softly, “Suits you.”

“Don’t I know it…” Dolor says with a sigh. He nods towards Gearing as he asks, “Who should I tell them is passing through?”

Gearing points off towards the end of the street and replies, “Iron Hoof and her friends,” as he’s slinging one of the rifles over his shoulder by its strap. He starts to turn to leave as he adds, “I’ll go and let them know we can get to moving again. Got a schedule to keep.”

“But what about you?” Dolor asks.

Gearing pulls the hood of the cloak back over his head as he shrugs. “Just ‘Iron Hoof and friends’… I’m nopony important, I don’t matter.”

Dolor calls out to him as Gearing is preparing to jump out of the hole in the side of the wall. Gearing turns his head back to look at him and Dolor asks, “Does that really work? That whole, starting over after losing everything bit?”

Gearing looks up at the cloudy sky above as he thinks it over for a few seconds before replying, “Well. It hasn’t been that long yet…” He lowers his focus back to Dolor and adds, “Too soon to tell either way, I think.” Then flares out his wings at the gap. But gets stopped again by Dolor.

“Hey…” Gearing looks back at him again, so Dolor continues, “If you happen to find out that the answer is ‘No’… Before you do anything… permanent… come back and look us up… You might find a new reason.”

Gearing stares at him for a few long seconds, in the exact same posture, before giving a single nod strong enough that he’s sure Dolor could see it even with the cloak. Then he hops off the building and starts flying the relatively short distance to the end of the street where Handy and Swift are still huddled behind the wagon wrecks.

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

‘gravity assistant matrix’ reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Beginning Gravity Differential alignment, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

New dangers and challenges are hinted at and revealed in this chapter. Along with a very rude awakening of the hazards of walking through certain portions of the wastes. Although there are a couple mysteries brought up within the confines of this chapter. Which will, eventually, be explained in later chapters.

Thanks to my helpers who've been instrumental in helping me get this out, and for my readers for the encouragement to continue despite everything. Thank you all!

-Quillsy

44 Taking Hits

Gearing flies in a quick loop over Swift and Handy as they hunker down behind the wagon wrecks for cover. After confirming their status, he loops back around towards the middle of the street. As he’s landing, in the open, he looks sideways to where Sable is still standing behind the building with all of her weapons at the ready. He nods over towards the bridal shop and comments as he starts walking in that direction, “Situation’s been resolved… We can go now… But stay grouped up, I’ll take point.”

The others quickly scramble over to him, with Sable still deciding to cross the street with her minigun aimed down its length just to be sure. After they get inside of the bridal shop, they find Nahlah still bundled up in an old felt sheet, that’d been used as part of the table display, and covered in a few shredded dresses and suits. All of which are smeared with relatively fresh blood.

Swift jumps over to Nahlah’s side as she yells, “Nahlah!” She starts pulling the clothes away as she rambles on, “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. We’re here now. You’re going to be fine. Where are you hit? Handy! Gimmie some potions!”

Nahlah bats Swift’s hooves away as she frowns, “Heeeeey! I was just gettin’ comfy, do ya mind?!”

Swift glares at her before sitting back and waving her forehooves around in disbelief. “You just got shot! So yes I mind!”

Nahlah nuzzles down into the clothes as she waves it away. “I’m fiiiine, Gearing took care of me before he left… I’m nice ‘n’ snuggly now.” She smiles widely as she closes her eyes and scoots back under the sheets.

Everyone, but Nahlah, turns to look at Gearing slowly as the tone of conversation strikes them all as odd to say the least. Especially with the obvious change in her speech pattern: much slower and dragged out.

Gearing lets out a sigh as he points over towards Nahlah. “I gave her some basic first aid treatment… though she’s really going to need some surgery. The bullet’s still in there. Probably in pieces. And it’s going to cause some problems if it’s not taken care of sooner than later…”

Handy raises an eyebrow and then asks as he narrows his eyes at Gearing, “And why is she pawing at the dust particles in front of her face?”

Gearing looks over at Nahlah and gives a crooked smile before he replies, “Well… that’d be the chems I gave her… She’s going to be feeling pretty good for a little while. But, after that, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Nahlah opens her eyes wide and smiles at Swift as she leans over and looks at her. “This fabric feels amaaaaazing!” They stare at each other for a few moments before Nahlah waves her off. “Don’t try givin’ me those bedroom eyes… I’m good for a snuggle, but some big ol meanie hurt my booty and I’m just not up for any play time right now.” She waves her paw around as she giggles, “So leave a message and I’ll get back at the tone… BEEEEEeeeeep!”

Swift looks up at Gearing and narrows her eyes as she frowns. “She’s so fucking high right now, what the hell did you give her?”

“Naaaaoooooo… no fuck’n’…my booty already hurt…” Nahlah says with a moan. She starts giggling as she asks, “Unless you wanna give it a kiss and make it all better?”

Gearing waves it away as he chuckles, “A bit of this, a bit of that…” This earns him a pair of dagger stares, and one curious look from Sable. He lets out a sigh and looks at Nahlah as he says, “That shot was no joke. Bullet hit her hip and damaged the pelvis bone, I’m sure.” He shrugs and says softly, “If it had been a bit higher and to the left it would have hit her spine.”

Swift’s eyes dart back and forth before she asks, “Do you think a few more potions would help?”

Gearing shakes his head. “I doubt it, really… What she really needs is surgery… a round through a medical pod, a trip to a medical unit… something…”

“Geaaarrriinnngg,” Nahlah groans as she pulls the sheets closer up to her neck and nuzzles them.

Gearing leans down next to her and asks, “Yeah, Nahlah?”

Nahlah keeps her eyes closed, and reaches out blindly with her paw. She finds his muzzle and starts petting, patting, and caressing his muzzle and cheek. “Gearing… You’re a nice buck. So sweet.” She pats him some more. “Sable’s a lucky mare. You treat her good, ‘kay? She love you stupid amounts.” She frowns slightly as she snuggles into the blanket with her eyes closed. “I’m a lil jealous…”

Gearing snickers and shakes his head lightly. “You shouldn’t be… you have plenty of folks that care about you.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have run into incoming fire for somepony I hated, you know.”

Nahlah giggles and pats Gearing’s cheek some more. She rubs it gently as she says, “Awwww… are you flirtn’ with lil ol me?” She leans over and nuzzles his cheek, rather sloppily as she adds, “I think you’re swell too…” She frowns and points at him weakly. “But nooooo… not now… my booty hurt… ask later when I feel better ‘n’ maaaaybe you’ll get luuuckyyyy.” She puts a finger to her lips as she noisily shushes him. “It’ll be our lil secret, ‘kaaaaay?”

Swift snickers and shakes her head before she says, “Nahlah… it’s not a secret if everypony already knows.”

Nahlah grins, while still keeping her eyes closed. “Well… jus’ don’t tell Sable then…”

“Subject Nahlah appears to be extremely intoxicated with stupefying narcotics,” Sable comments as she steps up near Nahlah’s outstretched hind paws.

Nahlah slowly opens an eye and looks over at the voice, staring into Sable’s glowing blue eyes for a moment. She closes her eye again and smiles wider as she shrugs. “Welp, I’ma die now… There’s worse ways to go… But I’ma gonna toucha tha Gearing first…” She lifts a paw and pats Gearing on the end of his muzzle. She giggles as she says, “Booooop,” as she presses on his nose.

“No, Subject Nahlah, no ‘toucha tha Gearing’. My Gearing,” Sable says as she uses a restraining cable and pushes Nahlah’s paw off of Gearing’s nose.

Nahlah frowns and weakly paws at the air. “But… But…” She smiles and runs her paw up and down the side of Gearing’s muzzle as she giggles, “Touchy tha Geeaaarrrrring!”

Sable leans closer and pushes Nahlah’s paw away from Gearing with her restraining cable again. “No, Subject Nahlah!”

“Okay,” Nahlah says with a grin.

“No ‘touchy tha Gearing’,” Sable says as she leans over Nahlah.

“Got it,” Nahlah says with a smile and an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Sable keeps staring at Nahlah’s face, waiting for more of a response, but Nahlah’s eyes are still closed as she has a massive grin plastered on her snoot.

Swift and Gearing exchange glances across Nahlah with mutually amused expressions on their faces.

Handy looks on in horror, as his eyes dart back and forth, and he debates on grabbing Swift and pulling her back, just in case the exceedingly jealous robot decides to ash Nahlah, and anyone stupid enough to be in the way.

After a matter of only a few seconds of silence, Nahlah says, “But I’ma touch tha Gearing though…” and goes right back to petting and stroking the side of Gearing’s muzzle.

Sable pushes Nahlah’s paw away repeatedly with her restraining cable as she says, “No. No, Subject Nahlah. No! My Gearing!”

“Okay,” Nahlah nods as she pulls her paw back to herself and leans her head in Gearing’s direction. She angles her snoot towards Gearing and starts flexing her nose as she snuffs at him. “I’ma just smella the Gearing…”

Sable sighs and shakes her head. “That’s fine… but MY Gearing… you can look at him, you can smell at him, just don’t-”

Nahlah interrupts her as she giggles, “And lil touchy Gearing, kay?” as she turns her muzzle to kiss him on his cheek. And makes full contact as she smiles. She opens her eyes and they keep increasing in alertness until her eyes are at their widest open possible.

She stares down her muzzle, across Gearing’s muzzle, and into his brushed copper eyes that are open quite wide as well at the moment. As she’s kissing him full on the lips.

Everyone stops and stares for a few moments as they process what’s happening.

At this point, Handy does grab Swift, and hop back with her to get out of the line of fire. But, to Handy’s astonishment, Sable actually tracks her eyes over towards them as they switch from their soothing blue color to a menacing red.

Handy hops away further as he waves his hooves. “What the hell I do this time!? I’m not the one kissing your buck!”

Sable glances over at him, then back and forth between him and Swift as she asks, flatly, “Is it still customary to dispose of unwanted felines via tying them in a sack and throwing them in a river?”

Nahlah pulls back and puts a paw over each of her eyes as she moans, “I’m sorrrryyyyy! I didn’t mean that! It was an accident! He didn’t even kiss me back!”

Sable turns and glares at her as she’s quite obviously trying to figure out the correct line of action.

Nahlah thrashes around a bit and rolls over out of the improvised bedding before she starts burying her face in the fabric. “I’m sorry, pleeaassse don’t be mad at meeee…” she moans as she tries to hide her face in the fabric.

Sable’s eyes trail over her body and stop at her left haunch. Her eyes change back to their soothing blue color before she says softly, “That wound appears quite grievous…”

“My booty still huuuurts,” Nahlah moans as she rubs her face in the sheet of fabric.

Swift takes in the patch of mangled flesh and missing fur as she asks, “You sure more healing potions won’t help, Gearing?”

Gearing shakes his head, casting off the ridiculousness of what’d just happened and points towards Nahlah. “It might help superficially. But she really needs a surgeon.” He tilts his head as he stares at the wound for a moment before adding in a quieter tone, “It’s just not seeming to heal right either… The number of potions I’ve given her should have more than taken care of it. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Swift looks Nahlah over for a moment as she sighs and shakes her head. “We’ll figure something out. There’s gotta be somepony out here that knows something about medicine… Speaking of which.” She raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Gearing, really, what the hell did you give her? Were those drugs we’d gotten laced or something?”

Gearing sits down and taps his forehooves together sheepishly as he says, “No… I don’t think so anyway… I just um… added a bit too much of something… I think…”

They all turn to look at him and, after a few moments of silence longer than Swift is comfortable with, she waves a hoof for him to continue as she’s really not letting him get away without explaining this time.

He lets out a sigh and looks off to the side as he says quietly, “Nepetalactone...”

“What?” Swift and Handy ask in unison.

“Nepetalactone,” Gearing repeats louder. “I mixed in Nepetalactone with the Med-X so I wouldn’t have to use as much to get her to relax.”

“Nepetta-whata? What the hell is that?” Handy asks as he eyeballs Gearing hard.

“Nepetalactone, an organic compound found in the plant Nepeta Cataria,” Sable offers as she goes back to looking at Nahlah. “It is known for its effects on the brains of some species of felines. Namely that it induces periods of euphoria and is a hallucinogen for those susceptible to it.”

Swift tilts her head as she regards him. She narrows one eye as she waves a hoof around. “And you just … happened… to have that? On you? Now?”

Gearing gives a wide smile as he taps his forehooves together. “Not… really… I uh… Synthesized it in the R&D lab a while ago… Just in case it was needed.”

Handy waves his hoof around as he shakes his head. “Wait… you used the lab to make drugs, that only work on cats… When? Why?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks over at him. “Shortly after I got the R&D lab clean and working again… After I confirmed the medical bay didn’t have any on stock.” He shrugs again. “I didn’t expect it to, there’s no point in keeping it in stock in a stable full of ponies, and no one else.”

“But, why,” Handy repeats.

Gearing stares at him for a few moments before pointing over towards Nahlah. “It has medicinal uses you know… It’s an innocuous treatment option that doesn’t have the nasty side effects of some of the harsher chemicals out there. And, for felines, it means you don’t have to use nearly as much of the junk that does have such high risks for dependency, organ damage, etcetera.”

The conversation is interrupted as Nahlah rolls around and wraps her forepaws around Sable’s foreleg. “I’m sorrryyyy… Please don’t be mad… I didn’ mean it… we’re friends, riiiight?” She leans up and starts nuzzling Sable. “You’re not really gonna throw me in a river, are yooouuu?”

Sable looks at her sideways, then over at Gearing and sighs. “No, Subject Nahlah, I’m not going to throw you in a river.”

“Promiiiiise?” Nahlah asks as she’s nuzzling Sable’s leg with her cheek and trailing it up her leg.

“Yes, Subject Nahlah, I promise. Friends don’t tie friends in a sack and throw them in the river.”

“Yay, we’re friends!” Nahlah says happily as she scrunches up her body then trails it up Sable’s leg and shoulder. She starts nuzzling Sable’s cheek with her own as she starts purring. Nahlah wraps her forelegs around Sable’s neck and starts massaging and caressing her as she nuzzles Sable and smiles. “I like you too, Sable!”

But, even as she starts trying to crawl over Sable, everyone can see that Nahlah’s moving awkwardly and keeping her left hind leg more straightened out than looks normal. So much so that it looks very uncomfortable.

Gearing shakes his head and lets out a sigh as he directs his attention from Nahlah’s leg to Swift. “We really should go. Megamart might have a lead on a local doctor or something.”

“Sable, you’re such a sweetie, I’m glad we’re friends!” Nahlah giggles before planting a kiss right on Sable’s lips. Then she goes back to nuzzling Sable’s cheek with her own as she continues purring.

The others look over at Gearing for his reaction, including Swift who’s giving him a sheepish shrug.

Sable, with Nahlah still fawning all over her, locks eyes with Gearing for a few moments looking for some form of guidance in this situation.

Gearing frowns as he says, “You’re right, Sable, Nahlah is highly intoxicated at the moment…” He nods with his head towards the open door. “Come on, let’s go. The further along we are before it all wears off, the better.”

As Gearing is picking up all of the equipment and salvage he’d dumped to get around at the snipers easier, the others help redistribute Nahlah’s supplies among themselves. During the whole process, Sable walks around the bridal shop, snooping around the interior while keeping watch for any sign of hostiles.

By the end of it, Nahlah’s load has been reduced to the simple bag she’d left Stable 68 with and nothing more. And, as an extra measure, they use their remaining healing bandages to wrap Nahlah’s left haunch before going ahead and leaving via the backdoor service entrance.

Figuring he’s already caused enough structural damage, Gearing simply unlocks the door to open it instead of bucking it off its hinges. Which isn’t a challenge at all, thanks to already being inside of the building. And both the doorknob and the deadbolt have their twist-turn lever on this side of the door. Though doing it this way does remove some of the fun.

As they are traveling along, Gearing takes his time. He’d intentionally took a while gathering up his belongings in the bridal shop and getting ready to go, to give Dolor time to spread the good word. He’s not one for liking to take risks, but this was a calculated one he felt ‘comfortable enough’ with. Killing Dolor would have gained him nothing at all. Except possibly removing a single solitary threat. Although he’s not naive, he knows there’s the possibility that, instead of keeping to the agreement, Dolor’s using the time to inform his gang that Gearing and company need to be shot on sight, and are setting up additional ambushes further on.

In which case things may get far harder before they get better, and the Halfhearts will earn a ‘kill on sight’ designation. Just like the Wild Ones have been ‘enjoying’ since they made the mistake of shooting Gearing down.

But, if he’s managed to read the situation correctly, especially where Reapers are concerned, he stands to gain tremendously. If Dolor can convince even one other member of his gang not to shoot at them, it’ll be a win in Gearing’s book. And, in fact, leave them in a better position over all. And if he can convince his entire gang, if not others, the potential benefits are limitless.

Their experience with the Freight Cars had solidified that knowledge for him.

From what he’s been able to piece together, Reapers were, in their essence, a group strong enough to be feared, if not respected. Many individuals make the mistake of confusing the two. But Gearing’s not one of them. He’s had the privilege of living among, and indeed even working with, individuals deserving of true respect. Ones that had earned his admiration. That he would follow, not out of some worry of what they would do to him or others if he didn’t, but from a true desire to help them. Because they deserve the aid.

Control by fear only lasts as long as they fear their leaders more than their opponents. So the moment that fear gets trumped, their ‘loyalty’ can shift quite quickly.

It’s another reason why Gearing isn’t too keen on simply trying to enact a change of management in the area. Difficulty of doing that aside, if this group of Reapers has enough pull and strength to keep all of these random gangs under their hoof, removing them would create a massive power vacuum. So, maybe they are doing some good simply by existing. And can be suffered to be allowed to exist. For now. Until the world really doesn’t need their form of control anymore.

With each step they take along the way, they get ever closer to their goal. Gearing can feel it. Though, he knows he could get there in short order by simply breaking off and flying straight there. But he can’t abandon them. Especially now. Gearing can’t help but look back at the others as they travel along a bit behind him. Nahlah’s making okay progress. Remarkable progress if you factored in her injury. But she’s not running around looking at and exploring everything under the cloudy sky like she was before. And, Gearing can tell, by a few of her movements and her just-a-bit-too-big smile, that the meds are wearing off. And she’s mostly faking her enthusiasm now. At least, as much as she can. Her and Sable walk close, side by side, and after a while of traveling further, and Nahlah ending up panting hard simply from the effort of a stroll speed, Sable uses her spare cables and wraps her lower abdomen. Holding up a large portion of Nahlah’s weight for her as they continue down the road.

Then there’s that ever nagging feeling he keeps getting over his entire body. Something gnawing at him. A creepy feeling like he’s being watched. Which, he’s sure he is. But it’s not quite that. It comes in bursts. Almost like it has set boundaries where some places are worse than others. Places where he feels the desire to scratch and hide as if something is clawing at him and going to drag him off at any moment. Only for the feeling to suddenly disappear after a bit more travel. And, the areas just seem to appear more often and increase in frequency the further they travel along the road to the core of Hoofington.

Swift breaks off from the others and joins Gearing at the front as he keeps checking his pace to slow down and watching the surroundings. She asks quietly, “Do you know anywhere around here where we can stop? I don’t know how much longer Nahlah can keep walking at this pace.”

Gearing frowns and gently shakes his head as he replies, “Your guess is as good as mine… Probably better. If it was like the last time I was through here, I would have simply flown her to a Ministry of Peace clinic… Or, hell, even just gone straight to the Fluttershy Medical Center…”

Swift shakes her head as she looks around. “I don’t know the area either… Heard enough about it to know to generally stay away, but nothing specific.” She looks him over and her eyes settle on the glittering piece of gold hanging from the rifle slung over his shoulder. She reaches over and taps the stock, hard enough that she’s sure he can feel it and get the reference, as she asks, “New souvenir?”

Gearing chuckles. “Well, they certainly won’t be needing it anymore…”

“That the one that shot Nahlah?” she asks as she stares at the well maintained weapon.

Gearing shrugs. “Fifty-fifty it was…”

“Fifty-fifty?”

Gearing nods. “This is one of the two that were in a position to do it, not sure which one actually took the shot though.”

“And where are they?” she asks. Gearing turns his head to look at her and she shakes her head. “Stupid question… sorry.” She follows up with, “So where’s the other rifle?”

Gearing points off behind them in the general direction from where they’d come from. “Left it with the third buck that was trying to sight down on everyone.”

Handy walks up from the other side of Gearing as he asks, “A third buck?” He shakes his head. “What? Somepony was trying to kill us and you just let him go? Why?”

Gearing glances over at him and replies with a questioning tone, “Considering our previous encounters, I’d have thought you’d be pleasantly surprised by that fact?”

Handy glares at him and points a hoof at him. “He was actively trying to kill us!”

Gearing looks over to Swift, and notices the concerned expression on her face, directed at Handy, before he turns back to look at Handy and replies, “Yeah… and so was Bradoak… and you literally cried over his corpse.”

Handy stares at him for a few moments as his eyes dart around. “But- That was- I mean…” He trails off then starts looking forward as he scrunches his face up and loses himself deep in thought.

Gearing, deciding to let him figure things out on his own and not push any further, looks over at Swift and adds, “He was also the first one more interested in talking than dying…” He shrugs. “The first two were far more interested in the dying aspect of things.”

Swift frowns as she looks around at their surroundings, not entirely liking the sound of this. “So, if they’re that disciplined… What makes you think the guy was on the up and up on his agreement to stop? What could you have said to make him change his mind on killing us? Or… trying to anyway.”

Gearing slides a wingtip up enough to hold his cowl up and away from his face, just enough to reveal his goofy grin in her direction.

She narrows her eyes at him and asks softly, but with a grumble, “What’d you say…?”

Gearing grins wider as he asks, “Promise not to shoot the messenger?”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes as she giggles and shakes her head. “Managed to throw that back at me on the same day, huh?” She shakes her head again and looks at him with a smile. “Alright, what happened?”

Gearing shrugs and drops his cowl again as he says, “Oh… nothing much… I just told him that he and his group were shooting at the Reaper Iron Hoof and her friends… and implied that Big Daddy was not going to be happy with them…”

Swift stumbles a bit before she looks back up at him. “Wait, what?! Why would you say that?! I mean, you’re the one that killed No Shoes. Why didn’t you bring that up instead?”

Gearing keeps looking forward as he says softly, “Because No Shoes was a no bit loser that only just became a Reaper… It’s not likely that anyone would even know who he was… so me claiming that, regardless of how true it is, would just sound like I’m a lying braggart…” He tilts his head to look at her sideways as he grins. “But… Iron Hoof is a name that is already catching on and spreading… If it was just Megamac, that’d be one thing… but that notoriety preceded you all the way to the Freight Cars… because of the Reaper connection.” He holds up a wingtip as he smirks. “Which increases the possibility that it’d just keep spreading and somepony up here would have heard of you.”

Handy rejoins the conversation as he asks with a low tone, “And he bought that without question?”

Gearing looks over at Handy and replies, “I’m pretty sure he saw the writing on the walls… I took out his two friends without him noticing, and dropped their rifles at his hooves. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew I could have killed him at any point. Looked like he was expecting it. But, as odd as it is, that part didn’t even seem to bother him. Hell, he invited me to at one point.” He looks back over at Swift and adds, “I’m pretty sure he did the math and figured it wasn’t worth it. If I was telling the truth, his whole gang would have to deal with pissing off the Reapers… If I was lying, he’d get the honor of telling the Reapers about it and knowing they’d take care of it. So if he went along with it, either way, it wouldn’t be his problem anymore.” Gearing shakes the rifle on the outside of his cloak. “He even told me to keep the rifle so others looking at us will know who we are.” He chuckles. “At least until he can verify it himself.”

Handy looks at him as he asks, “What’s that mean?”

Gearing shakes the rifle. “It’s a mark… The charm on the butt is their gang symbol… I think… It’ll make the others leave us alone… for now… But if he finds out otherwise, I guarantee you the same rifle would become a bullseye on my back.”

Handy steps away from him as he looks around quickly. “Then why the hell would you bring it with you?!”

Gearing grins as he looks over at him. “Because as long as I’m the target, they’re going to focus on me, and not all of you.” He lifts the cowl enough to smirk at Handy. “And, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m far more bullet resistant than you are, earth pony.”

“Speaking of,” Swift starts before lowering her voice. “How’s your back?”

Gearing frowns lightly and shrugs. “Round shattered on impact, but still chipped or cracked a cog.” After a few moments of silence he looks over at Swift and sees a blank expression on her face as if he’d suddenly started speaking in Saddle Arabian. He smirks and tilts his head towards her. “It hurts. Each step hurts. And it’ll keep hurting until it heals… like… a bruised bone or something I guess?”

Swift leans away to look at his back and sees the collection of holes in his cloak, along with a glint of brass through the fabric here and there as he moves. She leans back forward as she asks, “Shouldn’t you drink a potion or something?”

Gearing shakes his head. “No need. It’ll heal in time on its own. It’s not serious enough for a potion.”

Swift frowns as she leans towards him. “You know you don’t need to suffer for days in order to save supplies for the rest of us… Take it if you need to.”

Gearing smirks and shakes his head. “It won’t be days… not unless I get shot up more… Should only be a few more hours at this rate.” He looks over at her and tilts his head. “It’s odd really. I’ve had similar injuries before, this should have healed up already. It’s healing a lot slower than it would normally for some reason.”

Swift taps on his rifle. “Is there something funny with their guns? Or bullets? Could that be the cause of it?”

Gearing comes to a dead stop as his eyes go wide. “You mean like enchanted bullets? Like necromantically enchanted bullets?”

Handy stops a bit further ahead before coming back and shaking his head. “Nah, can’t be... I mean that’d just be crazy, who’d do that… I mean that’d be-”

“Not unheard of,” Gearing comments and cuts him off. He looks between them and nods. “Enchanted bullets were used in the war… Nasty business regardless of enchantment. But I’d never heard of necromantically enchanted bullets...”

Handy waves a hoof. “Why did you jump to that? Couldn’t they just be poisoned or something?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Not if they’re affecting me too. It’s got to be some kind of magical shenanigans if that’s the case.” He pulls the rifle off of his shoulder and starts examining it. He evens starts disassembling it right there in the middle of the road. But, even after a complete breakdown of the weapon, turns up nothing. “I don’t see any glyphs, or anything else that’d indicate it was enchanted… Though that doesn’t necessarily mean anything…”

“What about the ammo?” Handy offers

Gearing pulls out the rounds one at a time and starts rattling them around, by cupping them in his wings, pulling one out at a time to see if he can notice any difference between them. But, again, nothing. He throws the ammo into his saddlebag, loose, and quickly pulls up his inventory sorter on his PipBuck. He shakes his head. “Even the sorter can’t see any difference in the rounds I already had and these new ones that were in the rifle. And I know it has that capability.” He pulls out a collection of the bullets from his bag, right on top where the sorter had placed it for him, and eyeballs them again. He starts sticking them in the magazine again as he says, “I have an idea…”

He quickly fills the magazine, loads it into the rifle, and then chambers a round as he kicks on his EFS and starts looking around. “Yup… the little bastards are always around.” He creeps over to the side of the worn path and climbs up onto a rusting shipping container, that’s lying off kilter over the side of the transport that failed to make the delivery before the bombs fell. He stretches out on the top of the container, sighting through the scope, as he looks back and forth through the dead foliage not far away. He sees the tell tale movement of a brown carapace and sneers as he says, “Sorry fucker… Well… not really. For Science!” He pulls the trigger causing the container under him to sound like a large drum had been sounded.

Kra-KOW.

Gearing winces as he looks around into the distance. “Yup… definitely need a silencer for this thing… damn she’s got a lotta kick.” He hops over the edge and flies the short distance to his latest victim.

Swift trots over next to him and looks down as she asks, “A bit overkill… for a roach… don’t you think?”

“There’s no such thing as over-kill… there’s either ‘dead’ or ‘not-dead-yet’.” He starts examining the carcass, what’s left of it anyway after getting shot with such a large round, and carefully looks over the areas that were in direct contact with the bullet. “I don’t think it’s the gun either. There’s no unaccounted for scorching, marring, color change… nothing. Damage just seems to be what you’d expect from a standard ballistic round.” He looks over at Swift as he nods at the blown apart roach. “If there was some sort of enchantment involved there should be some visible sign of the effects in the wounds they make.”

“If you’re done playing with bugs, and letting everyone on Equus know where we are with those gunshots, can we go now?” Handy calls over from the leaning shipping container.

Gearing nods and slings the rifle back over his shoulder as he starts heading back. “Yeah, let’s go. I don’t think it’s the weaponry… We really need to get a real medical opinion on this nonsense. Might find out more at Megamart about what’s going on. It’s helpful to get a local’s opinion about weird pathology in the area.”

They all regroup and continue about their way with Sable still carrying a good portion of Nahlah’s weight for her.

They’d only been traveling for a little while longer, with Swift, Gearing, and Handy in the lead, when a rock comes flying over a rubble pile, in a mostly collapsed brick building, and smacks Gearing on the head, causing a loud klang to reverberate in the local area. Another one that gets tossed at them smacks Handy. It hits his shoulder with a soft ‘paff’ before tumbling to the ground. Not enough to do any damage to either of them, regardless of intent, but was still worrisome.

Is this supposed to be an ambush? the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it scratches its chin with a hoof.

Gearing stops where he’s going, then spins around and starts walking adjacent to Handy and Swift, but the opposite direction. He motions over to a pile of rubble next to the collapsed building, and keeps his back to it, as he says, “I saw a bit of fabric over there moving in the wind. I think someone’s wearing a cloak or a coat. It might be an ambush. Or it might be some foalish nonsense. Don’t get too close though, the rocks were pathetic at trying to do damage, and they might just be trying to sucker us in closer. I’m going to swing around and see what’s up. I’ll set up my rifle in case anyone tries anything.” He chuckles, “Well, if they wanna use such foalish tactics, I might as well play along.”

Gearing yells out loud, with an impressively clear whine in his voice, “But ow! That hurt!” He quickly trots off in the direction they’d come from, then crawls down into a small depression that has a lot of vegetation. Once he’s pretty sure he’s out of sight, he stays immobile for a few moments. After being sure that no one’s in direct line of sight with him, he checks to make sure the cloak hood is on and covering his visible brass parts before he crawls out the other side.

He keeps low to the ground, using every bit of cover and concealment he can find, as he keeps trotting off in a large circle. After completing his maneuver he ends up coming close to the area where that cloak behind the rubble had been, and takes up a position outflanking anyone that could be there. He finds a nice group of gnarly vegetation growing out of a depression in the ground where rainwater collects, and lays down inside of the miniature thicket. He sets up his personal rifle, leaving the Halfhearts’ weapon on his back, and begins checking the area from his new vantage point.

He looks with both his naked eyes and through the rifle’s scope as he tries to pick out the individuals that are hiding behind the rubble. Through the scope he can clearly make out the form of three separate ponies, all covered in cloaks and trying to stay out of sight of Swift and Handy. Sable and Nahlah have moved further back into cover given the circumstances. The unknown ponies are completely unaware that their side is entirely open. Nor that the only thing keeping them alive is the fact that they aren’t doing anything more than shouting and throwing small stones, blindly at that, over the wall of debris at Swift and Handy.

This strikes Gearing as odd for a variety of reasons. Not least of which is that they seem to be rather small framed, even with the cloaks.

Probably haven’t eaten in a while and are simply worried about a group of strangers coming up on their camp or… whatever this is… the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head muses as they watch the scene carefully. Though he can’t quite make out what’s being said, because of the wind whistling through the brush he’s hiding in. So he focuses more on the body language of both parties to determine how things are going.

Handy starts dodging the rocks as he screams out, “Would you stop that nonsense!” One hits him right between the eyes and he lets out a loud snort as he growls, “It’s really annoying! They don’t even hurt! Come on out and talk already, we don’t mean you any harm!”

A voice from behind the rocks screams out, “Nuh uh! You’re not the real Handy! You can’t fool us!”

Swift and Handy look at each other then at the rubble. Swift takes a few steps forward, trying to see around the rubble as she asks, “How do you know our names? Who are you?”

The voice yells out again, “You too, Swift! We’re onto you!”

Swift sits down in the middle of the road and looks at the cloth fluttering around the rubble pile with her head tilted. The voice doesn’t strike her as one she knows. Off the top of her head she keeps coming up with a blank. She’s not sure where it could be from. It seems fillyish, that’s all she can tell. Could this be someone she’s recently met? But, then, why would they think it’s not her if that’s the case. She starts walking closer to the rocks, and casually sways to dodge an empty can chucked in her general vicinity. “Why don’t you come out and talk with us? I’m not going to hurt you. But my name is Swift. How do you know me?”

The fabric pulls back from the edge of the rubble pile and the other side shows up with the hood pulled down so that their face is still obscured. “You stay away from us! You dirty ole synth! We’re not going back!” a decidingly filly voice screeches at her.

Handy and Swift’s ears both perk up and practically jump at the sound.

Swift smiles lightly. “Hun, I’m not a synth. I’m the real deal. How can I prove it to you?”

Another pony pokes around the first one and the two start talking to each other in whispers, rather loudly, then a third shows up and joins the conversation. All three seemingly abandoning their cover entirely as they try and sort out the puzzle.

“Oh, I know!” one suddenly cries out.

The last one to join the group rears up to look over the other two as she yells, “What was that yucky stuff you made the kids eat when you finally escaped the Institute?”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she looks the three over. She glances over at Handy, who seems to be genuinely mystified by the question, even more so at her reaction to it. She gets up and starts walking slowly towards them, curving around to try and get a better look at them as she says, “Spinach… canned boiled spinach.”

“Blech…” one filly moans.

“Yup, that’s the stuff…” a second voice agrees.

The third, still reared up, looks at them and whispers a bit before looking back at Swift. “And who was it that actually ate that nasty gunk?”

Swift covers her muzzle as she giggles. Then pulls it away with a smile as she says, “Andante…”

The one rearing up lowers their head and looks at the one to her right as she mutters, “Yeah… He only did it cuz he’s got a crush…”

They spring up and the one on the far left squeals out, “It is her!”

The three ponies start running at Swift, and Gearing keeps tracking them in his scope. But he blinks as he sees their hoods fall back: revealing a trio of young foals running up to Swift, and pony piling her. Swift seems extremely overjoyed to see them and welcomes them into her awaiting embrace with wide open forelegs and wings.

Gearing, upon seeing the flow of events, turns to the right and starts checking the surroundings. Deciding that the threat has been neutralized, and there’s no more reason to worry about it if Handy and Swift seem to actually recognize, and be happy with finding, this group of children, he directs his attention out towards the unknown wastes to protect this side. With their other side being protected by a mobile bullet hose, that just leaves this section for Gearing to keep an eye on.

Footnote: Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

‘gravity assistant matrix’ reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Beginning Gravity Differential alignment, please stand by. . .

Calculating Mass Augmentation thresholds, please stand by. . .

46 Unseen Forces

Despite the day being far from over the group is still feeling a bit run down from everything that’s recently happened. Given the change in plans, and the temporary splitting of the group, they set about redistributing their various supplies and equipment. Everything that’s deemed useful for the stable is going back with the foal escort. Whatever spare salvage they have is earmarked for sale at Megamart. Although, a rapid fire debate flares up when Gearing suggests Swift and Handy carry all they can, so they can do the trading while he’s enroute. After extensive negotiation, where all parties not only remain civil but objective as they discuss their various points, Gearing ends up agreeing to haul pretty much everything he was already carrying. And the reason why is pretty simple.

Swift and Handy are already carrying the majority of what extra salvage Sable and Nahlah had on them, on top of their own hauls. And they need to be able to move quickly if and when the situation calls for it. Which is something they can’t do if they are pinned to the floor by the practical general goods store Gearing has somehow managed to cram into his bags.

As they are finalizing what needs to go where, and with whom, Andante trots in a figure eight pattern encircling both Swift and Gearing, making a game of leaping over the various supplies in between the two, as he continues to argue his own point. No one was paying attention to him before, so he decided to make himself more visible, and noticeable, by hopping around in front of their line of sight. “We don’t need no escort! We’re tough! Just tell us where to go and we’ll get there. On our own. Yeah! So you don’t have to worry about your junk.” Andante starts hopping back and forth over the bag that Gearing sets down in front of himself, like it’s a hurdle in a race, as he says quickly, “So lets go go go go go. GO!”

“Andante, hun,” Swift asks softly causing Andante to draw up short as he’s about to leap over the bag again, but instantly gives her his undivided attention.

He hops over in front of her and sits down, looking up at her with a wide grin, as he asks, “Yeah, Swift? What is it? Huh?”

Swift smiles widely and leans her head down to look at him eye to eye as she partially closes her eyes and asks, “Could I ask you a favor?”

Andante’s eyes go wide and his grin explodes across his face. “Sure! What is it you need? Whatever you want, Swift!”

Swift nods lightly and then gives a slight nod in Nahlah’s direction. “I really need you to go with them. Please?”

Andante’s grin falls off his face, as his ears lay back and he looks down and to the side, as he mutters, “Awww I don’t need no help getting there…”

“But they do,” Swift says softly. Andante perks an ear and looks up at her as his eyebrow raises quizzically. Having earned his attention again, she continues, “I know you’re a big strong buck that doesn’t need any help… But Nahlah’s hurt…. She’s hurt bad… and she needs to go to the doctor. And it’s a loooong way off… So I don’t think she can make it on her own…” She pulls back a bit and lets out a sigh as she looks off to the side and gently puts a hoof to her mouth in mock thought. “But if you reeeeeeaally don’t want to… I understand… I suppose we’ll just have to stop what we’re doing… turn around… and make the long trip back now ourselves… We’d be wasting the entire trip and time to get up here and potentially won’t be able to get back up here for a very long time. We won’t have the parts we need to fix home so there’s no telling how long we can stay there before it’s falling down around our ears… But it’s a lot to ask, so I understand you not wanting to do me such a big favor…”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head points a hoof at Swift as he asks, Do filly’s get some kind of special class for that level of guilt trip when they become a mom, or is it just genetically triggered by the birth of the next generation?

Andante’s eyes go wide and he throws his forehooves around defensively. “Oh no, I didn’t say that!” He gives his head a vigorous shake. “I’m happy to help! Yessiree, no problem! I thought you were only wanting them to take care of us!” He puts a hoof to his chest, raising the other high in the air, as he closes his eyes and declares proudly, “I’ll make sure she gets home safe and sound! Don’t you worry, Swift!” He looks around quickly then spots the saddle bag that Gearing had set in front of himself not long before. “See! I’m strong too; I can carry a bunch back!”

He jumps over, slips in under the strap, and starts standing up with a massive grin chiseled across his muzzle. But his sudden ascension comes to a jarring halt as the straps are pulled tight and the bags do little more than shake lightly from his attempt to jump up with them. He keeps pushing up, the massive grin across his muzzle turning forced and strained, as he tries to make any further progress. His legs start shaking and his entire body follows suit a moment later as the straps dig deeply into his pelt, but the bag refuses to so much as slide across the ground.

Gearing’s eyes dart around for a moment as he looks at the others, and catches eye contact from both Swift and Handy. The later of which waves a hoof at Andante in a blunt demonstration of his point that Gearing’s bags are ‘just too damn heavy’ for anyone else to carry. Gearing reaches over with his wings, and gently pushes down on Andante’s shoulder, keeping him from wrapping his spine around the strap any more than he’d already managed to do. “Whoa there, young buck, that’s the wrong bag you got there. If you’re headed back with Nahlah and Sable, don’t take my stuff! I need to sell that at Megamart!”

Andante looks around, panting as he slacks the force he was applying. “Oh… So… so I don’t need to carry this one?” He looks around a bit and locks eyes with Swift, looking for some form of guidance and getting a gentle nod and a wave of her hoof towards Gearing in response. He hops out of the straps and sits off to the side as he sheepishly rubs his upper-foreleg with his hoof and says, “Sorry. I should have asked which ones to carry.” He stretches and tilts around, working the sore spots where the strap had dug in so deeply, as he groans, “Is that thing wonder glued to the ground or something?! It wouldn’t budge!”

Gearing chuckles as he reaches over with a foreleg, grabs the straps with his left fetlock, lifts it off the ground a bit and pulls it closer to himself to sort through further as he says, “Nah. It’s just a security feature...” He looks over at Handy and Swift and grins as he adds, “Nopony can pick it up but me.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he mouths ‘Security feature?’ and Swift puts a hoof to her mouth as she giggles at the ridiculousness of it.

The little blue pegasus in his head floats around flying belly up and backwards with its forelegs lazily crossed behind it’s head as it shrugs and comments, It’s not that heavy…

Andante hops over and starts sniffing at the bag. “That’s amazing! You’ll be rich with bags like that! How’s it work?! Is it an enchantment? Is it like some kind of super duper magnet inside? Huh? How you do that?!”

Gearing sifts through his bags as he gives a sly look sideways at Andante. “Sorry, can’t tell you. Trade secret. If I told anyone, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore…”

Andante lets out a long disappointed sigh, “Aawwwww… that’s fair I guess…” He reaches over and taps the bag a few times, making sure the outside really is a pliable cloth and not really some super hard statue.

Gearing pulls out a set of saddlebags and then sets them in front of himself as he gently pulls out the improvised protectapony extended storage box he’d made from scraps of Sarge. He turns it over for a bit and says softly while looking into its camera, “I think it’d be best if this is brought home too. Just in case.” He opens the bag and stares at its contents as he goes silent for a few moments.

Despite the morbid jokes at the time, neither he nor Swift had actually gone through Gauge’s personnel effects since he’d died in the Freight Cars’ fight arena. Gearing had simply carried it since then. With no real intention of actually doing anything with it. Except keeping Gauge’s PipBuck out of anyone else’s hooves until he’s managed to thoroughly sanitize it of anything problematic that is. But, now that he’s looking into the bag, he can’t help but notice that there’s far more in here than the cloth wrapped PipBuck that Gearing shoved in without even looking.

Including a set of leather armor. One that obviously wasn’t with him when he’d gotten robbed in that office building and sold out the filly and her mother to save his own skin. Which makes Gearing wonder where it came from. He hasn’t seen it before, and no one else has mentioned anything about it.

Gearing grabs the leather with a hoof and gently pushes it around inside of the bag as he wonders why Gauge hadn’t worn it. It would have provided him far more coverage than simply walking around in his own hide and nothing else. After a few more moments of stirring around the contents of the bag aimlessly, lost in thought, Gearing eventually shakes his head and forces his focus back on the task at hoof.

As Gearing is carefully placing the control node box into Gauge’s saddle bag, Sable walks up next to him and says quietly, “I would prefer if my darling Gearing kept at least part of me with him.” He looks up at her and she continues after achieving eye contact with him, “I do not like the idea of being apart from my Gearing. My Gearing should not be left alone.” She reaches out a restraining cable and slowly starts snaking it over his body and under the cloak. The cable gently massages his shoulders, the back of his neck, and the strange segment of his body where his withers would be if he were a typical pegasus.

Despite himself he lets out a low moan of approval as he leans towards her, and against her, as she leans into him. After a few moments of this form of fondling he says softly, “I need all of the pack space I can get… and I don’t want to risk it getting damaged in transit with all of the scrap we’re going to be hauling.” He shakes his head lightly, nuzzling into her neck in the process as he lets out in a gush, “I need to harden it. It’s a miracle it didn’t get seriously damaged when I got shot down…”

Sable lets out a light giggle and kisses his cheek. “Gearing, my love, it’s just a copy. A redundancy of my systems. If anything were to happen to it, we could simply make another. It is not a critical system.”

Gearing readjusts himself so he’s looking her right in the eye before he says softly, “It may be a redundancy backup, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important. Every. Single. Piece. Of. You. Is. Important.” He punctuates each word with a soft kiss in a trail up her muzzle before he says into her ear, “I don’t like the thought of you getting hurt, at all.”

Sable shivers in delight and leans into his affections before she turns to look at him muzzle to muzzle. “My Gearing… it is not fair to use my own words and sentiments against me like this.”

Gearing grins as he uses the end of his muzzle to trace circles around hers as he says softly, “Fair or not, you can’t disagree.” She smirks and stops his motions with a hoof, staring into his eyes for a moment before giving her answer by kissing him. At first it’s a soft tender kiss, but she slowly leans more into it until it devolves into looking like it’s headed for a full blown make-out session right there in the middle of the wasteland.

“I love my darling Gearing,” Sable says as she brings her forelegs up and around Gearing’s neck, holding him right where she wants him as she reciprocates his affections.

The three little fillies lean into each other sideways as they stand in a row watching with massive grins on their muzzles and harmoniously let out an endearing sigh, “Awwwwwwww.”

Andante smirks as he watches, and then turns his head and opens his mouth to the side, pointing a hoof into his mouth as he lets out a forced gagging sound. “Bleecchh.” He looks at Swift and nods towards Gearing and Sable. “Well, I can see why you like to be around them… but aren’t you worried you’ll get fat?”

Swift’s eyes jump wide open as she snaps her attention to him and her jaw drops open loosely.

Andante waves a hoof towards Gearing and Sable as he continues, “You know… with all this lovey-dovey stuff? You know, because-”

Swift zips over, slaps a hoof over his mouth, as she wraps her wings around him in a massive hug and pulls him in tightly. She looks around with a wide grin on her face as she giggles, though it’s more than a little forced, “Oh you, Andante… So adorable. Your jokes about them being so sweet. You’re funny.” She looks over at Handy. “Andante’s funny, isn’t he Handy?!”

Handy smirks as he replies, “Yeah, hilarious… a real riot… so clever.”

Andante manages to get his muzzle free and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that Swift, I meant because you’re-” He snaps his mouth shut, his eyes go wide open, and his ears lay back as Swift snaps a focused scathing scowl right at him point blank. They stare at each other for a moment before he says softly, “Oh… right… I’m not supposed to-” Again he stops as she gives him a slight, but firm, nod as she maintains eye contact with him. He lets out a long sigh as his eyes trail around, keeping his ears back before he looks up at her with just his eyes. “Sorry, Swift, I almost goofed…”

She smiles and pulls him into a warm hug as she rocks him gently. “It’s okay, Andante. I know you mean well.” She sets him back down as she says, “So how about we get everyone packed up and get on our way?”

It doesn’t take them long to finalize the weight distribution plan, and, while the foals are busy packing their own individual shares of the load, the general paths they are going to take is mapped out. Gearing and the escort group will convoy their way back down and through a train tunnel system Gearing knows about to return to their side of the rocky range that makes up the Hoofington bowl. Handy and Swift will follow a trail, laid out by Gearing and Swift to get to Megamart, as closely as possible so Gearing will have more of a chance of meeting up with them on the return trip.

After the foals manage one extra round of hugs from Swift, the group splits up with the majority of them headed back south.

They’d barely been separated twenty minutes when Nahlah’s heavy panting and grunting became the only thing anyone could focus on. Despite her best attempts, tears flow down her cheeks, even with Sable’s cables holding up most of the weight of her hind end.

Gearing waves for everyone to stop as he comes running over from his position on the outside where he’d been keeping watch on the more empty space beyond. “Whoa. Hold on, guys. I gotta take a look at this.”

Sable gently lays Nahlah out on her side, injured side up as Nahlah lays there and buries her face in her paws and weeps quietly. Gearing undoes the bandages and it only takes a few unwrapping for him to start noticing blood.

Fresh blood.

He unwraps her wound as quickly as he can, and is left standing there gawking at what he uncovers.

“Ewww…” Sonata comments as she peeks from the side.

“That makes my head hurt worse…” Aria adds from the other side.

“That… doesn’t look right,” Adagio says as she looks over the injury.

“Why’s it look like that?” Andante asks as he cranes his neck and rocks side to side to try and see better.

All of which are valid concerns from Gearing’s perspective. Troublingly valid. Even more so given he has no idea why, and no answers to give. Especially since he’s mentally asking himself the exact same thing the foals have verbalized.

“My darling Gearing… I am not a medical technician, and my experiences are rather limited, but this does not appear to me to simply be the results of a gun shot wound,” Sable comments as she looks over Nahlah from the other side. “What has caused this?”

Gearing shakes his head slightly. “It’s gotten worse. How could it-” he pauses speaking long enough to get his eyes inches away from it as he examines the bloody pulpy flesh closely. “It’s not an infection. It’s like the wound is just opening up on its own… seeping… and just not looking healthy…” He leans up towards Nahlah’s ear and frowns even harder as he can hear her sob despite her best attempts otherwise. “Nahlah… when’d it start getting like this?”

Nahlah shakes her head and pulls back a paw enough to look at him with waterlogged eyes. She gives a sniffle and replies, “It’s gotten worse here and there as we’re traveling. Sometime’s it’s almost okay, and more of a dull throb. But other times it’s a screaming stabbing pain that just pops up and goes away after a bit.” She waves back the way they’d come. “It was really bad about a block or so that way.”

Gearing looks back the direction they’d come and runs through the trip in his mind’s eye. One thing that becomes crystal clear to him is that at the time Nahlah says it had gotten worse, she wasn’t using her hip. Sable had been carrying her. For Sable’s cables had been carrying her entire back end for the last four or five blocks at least.

Which means it’s not simply a matter of using an injured limb causing it to get worse. Something else is going on. Potentially environmental.

Gearing rummages through one of the bags Sable is carrying and pulls out a potion bottle. He stares at it for a few moments before he mutters quietly, “Where the hell they get these potions from?” He swishes the liquid around inside of the small glass bottle as he eyeballs it suspiciously. Again, while he’s used to potions of vibrant purple, with a thicker viscosity like motor oil or paint, this one isn’t anything like that. If it’s to be likened to paint, then it’s a bottle of water color with far more water than color. It’s practically transparent like a watered down sun tea. He pops the top and gives it a curious sniff, before slipping his tongue inside to test it.

Again, as had happened before, he gets the same familiar tingle telling him this is indeed what he thinks it is. But this one’s even more faint than the last one. He lets out a sigh as he makes a mental note to make sure he tracks down the source of these knock-off potions and find out what shenanigans they are pulling to do this to them.

As he’s holding it for Nahlah to drink she snickers, and makes a painfully forced chuckle, as she asks, “You keep tonguing the bottles to make me jealous, or you too bashful for the real thing so going for an indirect kiss?” She smiles at him as she drinks. But the fur on the sides of her face, matted with moisture, betray her ongoing torment and tears.

Gearing watches the wound and, sure enough, thankfully, the wound starts closing up again. It regains a bit of its healthy look, and the wound shrinks in size. But, it still persists. Gearing sighs and looks over at Sable as he asks, “Sable, gimmie a potion out of your bag please.”

Sable nods and quickly complies, pulling out a bottle with one of her restraining cables and passing it off to Gearing.

Gearing goes back to looking at the wound, and doesn’t look up until he sees the motion out of the corner of his eye. He grabs it with a wing blindly and pulls it around to uncork it. But comes to an absolute unnatural dead stop as the potion enters his central cone of vision. He brings it over in front of his nose and eyeballs it with ever narrowing eyes. Again, the liquid in the bottle is far less opaque than he was expecting. It has more in common with a sugary drink for foals than it does with a healing potion in appearance. Gearing lets out a sigh as he asks the universe, “Who the hell Handy and Swift buy these things from? Honestly somepony needs an ass beating for passing these off as potions…”

Andante quickly hops back, his eyes wide, as he uses his forehooves and covers his flanks with them. “Not it! Wasn’t me!”

Gearing glances over at him with an amused smirks as he says, “I didn’t think it was, little one.”

“My Gearing…” Sable begins, interrupting whatever Gearing was about to say, then continues after he looks over at her, “That potion was not acquired by neither Swift nor Handy.”

Gearing looks at the potion again, and shakes it as he looks over at her. “Then where’d this thing come from then?”

Sable reaches out a cable and taps on the glass gently with the tip a couple times. “You acquired this potion, Gearing.”

Gearing’s eyes open to their fullest as they zip back and forth between looking at Sable, and the potion he’s holding up. “What!? No I didn’t! Where? When?”

Sable nods and taps on the glass again. “Yes. You did.” She taps on the glass again. “You packed this from your personal stock of supplies before leaving.”

Gearing’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he slowly turns and looks at the potion. “You mean to tell me we’ve had this the whole time?”

Sable nods again as she stares at the potion. “Yes, my darling Gearing, we’ve had it since leaving 68.”

Gearing rolls the bottle over a few times and looks at it, and, sure enough, he finds the faint markings on the bottom that he uses to help him keep track of supplies with his inventory control methods. It’s a rather common bottle of ubiquitous design. On some level he’d thought it’d simply been refilled, and didn’t recognize it. But even without Sable’s adamant declarations, the evidence is clear. This wasn’t a potion acquired by some shyster who was cutting potions with unknown liquids to increase stock. The inventory control markings make it clear it’s been in his possession the entire time, long enough for him to manually count and mark it as part of his personal stock, and he certainly would have noticed something like this previously. He would have done an analysis of it, then, in all likelihood, pitched it afterwards if he came across a potion looking like this. Because potions, by design and constitution, don’t have a shelf life. Or, more accurately, its shelf life is so long that it becomes a moot point. A potion doesn’t just randomly go from vibrant paint viscosity to this nearly transparent watered down mess for no reason at all. Not on its own. He’s never even heard of anything like this before. The more he thinks about it, the more the area between his shoulders twitches.

It’s a bad sign when even his withers doesn’t like what its hearing.

Especially when this makes it rather clear that his previous hunch had been correct. Some outside force is causing this. And, though he can’t prove it at the moment, his withers are telling him that whatever is screwing up the potions, is linked to whatever is making Nahlah’s wound worse. If not having the exact same source.

Gearing quickly gives the potion to Nahlah to drink as he looks at Sable. “We got to go. I don’t know what’s going on, but we can’t stay here. Something’s wrong. The sooner we get back to 68 the better.” He quickly rewraps the wound, resorting to using non-magical strips of pre-sanitized cotton given they’d already used up the last of their healing bandages when they first wrapped her wound. He carefully goes about storing the used bandages in a jar and securing it with a lid for later analysis, as Nahlah carefully drinks down the entire potion.

“I agree, my darling Gearing,” Sable chirps with a prim nod.

Gearing pulls out the little module that he’d gotten from the ghoul caravanner on the way to Megamac the first time, and starts typing in commands into his PipBuck. He glances up at Sable and comments, “We’re far enough out that I’m going to start testing the relay system we set up for 68. I’ll send information packets with updates and keep copies on my own system. That way we can compare later to see what gets through and what doesn’t.” He bobs his head around as he looks down at his PipBuck again. “The range should be rather significant, but might be limited by power. If that’s the case I’ll need to make use of boosters or other power sources.”

Sable glances down at his PipBuck as she asks, “Forgive me for asking, my Gearing, but wouldn’t a broadcaster transmit on all open channels? Are you sure that is wise to do from a security standpoint? Given the lengths we have gone to keep 68’s location hidden?”

Gearing looks up at her and his eyes go wide in disbelief. “If I was a complete idiot that simply used the default settings and broadcast to the entire world, completely unencrypted, then… maybe… Yeah.” He closes the PipBuck and smirks as he says, “The system at 68 doesn’t transmit, it only receives, so it can’t be traced that way. Only passive listening.” He holds up his PipBuck, “And short of breaking the encryption on this, all anyone would be able to do is triangulate my position… at the time of transmission. So the worst that could happen would be them knowing where I was… and I’m not dumb enough to do that anywhere I’m trying to hide.” He throws the cloak back and flares his wings in the air, scattering the light around himself as he tilts his head and gives her a profiled grin. “Have ya met me?”

Sable giggles and leans in, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before she comments, “Of course I have, and I am glad to have done so.” Her smile fades a bit as she says softly, “I am still concerned with what may happen if my Gearing draws too much attention to himself.”

Gearing turns his head, showing the golden spider web-like pattern on his face before rotating it back to the other side and pointing at his own face. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at staying out of the spot light when I want to.” He frowns as he stores the empty bottle in his bag and hears Nahlah quietly whimpering. He leans towards Nahlah and asks as he gently rubs her shoulder with a wing, “Nahlah… I think it’d be a good idea if Sable carried you the rest of the way. I don’t know what’s making this worse, but walking and using it isn’t helping matters any… What do you think?”

She lets out a sigh then look up at him with just her eyes as she says softly, “I… I think you might be right but… and please don’t think bad of me… but…” her voice trails off to nonexistence as everyone leans in to hear her, but do so in vain.

“What was that, Subject Nahlah?” Sable asks as she leans close to hear.

Nahlah sniffles and looks between her and Gearing. “Can I have some more of that shot you gave me earlier? Just enough to get me to the stable?”

Gearing shakes his head and smirks. “Nahlah, if I tried to give you enough meds to get you all the way to the stable in one go, you’d definitely die from an overdose of Med X… but… yeah. I can mix some more.” He leans in close to her as he smirks in her face. “But I’m cutting back on the nepetalactone… you don’t need to be that much of a space case to get the benefits.”

Nahlah shrugs and grins as she says, “I’m not complaining… was a wonderful vacation from the pain.”

Gearing gently caresses her cheek as he nods. “I’m sure it was… but I’m not going to get you better, only to have you turn into a deranged addict.”

“But, my darling Gearing, nepetalactone has no recorded incidences of dependency. Would it not be wiser to maintain the higher ratio of it, to minimize exposure to the components in Med X that do have a known history of dependency?” Sable asks as she looks back and forth between them.

Gearing bobs his head around as he says, “Yeah. But she needs to be alert in case anything happens.”

Nahlah lets out a sigh as she lays her head back down and gives him an awkward smirk. “Gearing… in case anything happens, I’m screwed. I can’t run away like this. And I’m in no condition to fight. I hurt so bad I can barely see straight, let alone try and shoot. Which, in case you didn’t know, I’ve never been too great with guns anyway.” She gives a light shrug. “The best I can probably do is just keep myself quiet so I don’t attract any problems to us.” She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes as she says quietly, “You’d be better off just leaving me here and getting back as quickly as you can, I’m just slowing you down.”

“Welp, that settles it then,” Gearing comments with a tone of finality.

“Settles wha-raawwrrr!” Nahlah jerks, and jumps and lifts her head to look at her side where Gearing has buried a needle into the side of her haunch, right next to the wound and in a particularly tender part of the flesh. “Hey! Warn a girl before jumping in like that, I wasn’t ready!”

Gearing looks over at her and scowls as he says, “I heard enough of that ‘Leave me and save yourself’ bullshit during the war. Not happening. Not an option. Not this time.” He stows the syringe in Sable’s bag as he comments, “Carry her. Drag her if you have to. Scraps, bruises, and broken bones can be mended, but only if she makes it back to the stable.”

Sable nods and wraps Nahlah up with most of her cables, leaving just a single pair to hold her minigun aloft, as she picks their feline companion up and carefully rests her along her own back. Nahlah is indignant about it at first, grumbling about the rough and inconsiderate treatment with a huff as she does. But then the huffing and grumbling gives way to slight chuckles and giggling as the group carries on along the route to Stable 68.

Gearing takes flight and zips around over head as he both needs to work through some very problematic thoughts and emotions, and keep an eye out for trouble before it gets close enough to be a problem. If things work out, he’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone, by venting some frustrations on whatever raiders or bandits they come across.

It doesn’t take long for Nahlah to completely relax on Sable’s back, getting comfortable on the pile of bags and inside of her own little nest of restraining cables. She nuzzles into it, brushing against the cables and the bags as she turns around and lays lengthways along Sable. When she starts purring, and nuzzling the side of Sable’s neck, Sable finally comments, “Subject Nahlah, I am simply trying to assist you given your condition.”

Nahlah nods, rubbing against Sable even more as she quite literally purrs, “Mmmhmm, I know… You sucha good friiiiiend, Sable. So sweet. A sweet lil mare.” She starts kissing and licking along the side of Sable’s neck.

“Subject Nahlah… I belong to my darling Gearing… not Subject Nahlah…”

Nahlah nuzzles her some more as she uses her forepaws and half massages half kneads Sable’s shoulders. “Tha’s ok…”

“Subject Nahlah…”

“Hmmm?”

“If you continue to try and take advantage of my generosity… I will drop you and make you walk!” Sable says as she turns her head and looks over her shoulder at Nahlah.

Nahlah looks at her with her tongue partially hanging out of her mostly closed mouth as she was in mid lick of Sable’s neck. They stare at each other for a few moments before Nahlah stretches closer and kisses Sable on the cheek. “Ooooo-kay… no hanky panky…” She gives Sable another kiss on the cheek that she trails up to a gentle ear nibble. “Til I get better n’ you say iz kay.”

“Subject Nahlah…” Sable starts before she lets out a sigh of resignation as Nahlah partially pulls back and settles in for the ride, while regularly rubbing her head and neck on Sable’s neck ceaselessly.

Overhead Gearing’s PipBuck alerts him to a new message from Sable, which he quickly reads.

[My darling Gearing, have you checked the supplies you acquired from the bad ponies known as Wild Ones? I’m afraid they may have been laced with some sort of aphrodisiac, judging by Nahlah’s reaction to them.]

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head as he types out a rapid fire response.

[I’m pretty sure that’s just Nahlah.]

Sable’s reply is instantaneous.

[Just so you are aware, my love, your ‘BILL’ for this delivery shipment is increasing each time she kisses me.]

Gearing rolls his eyes and replies back.

[You could always tell her to stop, you know.]

Even from up here, Gearing can see Sable turn her head to look at him sideways, and can easily make out the mischievous grin she gives him before his PipBuck alerts him of her response.

[Why would I want to do something so foolish, when my goal is to bankrupt the Great Bank of my Darling Gearing’s Flank? Or at least enjoy every moment of trying to do so.]

Gearing facehoofs so hard Sable can hear it at ground level. She giggles as she smiles up in the air and adds another quick message.

[I can hear your ears whistling from here, my love.]

Footnote: Beginning Gravity Differential alignment, please stand by. . .

Calculating Mass Augmentation thresholds, please stand by. . .

Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 12%

47 First Things First

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the war constantly ramping up, and casualties high, there was always a need for new recruits. More soldiers. Fresh blood. Especially fliers. But, even so, standards had to be met. So tryouts for hopefuls to get into the most prestigious units were held regularly at various government complexes. For those that knew what they were doing, and how to game the system, it was a perfect way of getting in without actually signing up for the military first. It was nearly a gimmick, but if you could prove good enough for the unit you wanted, it gave you far more leverage during contract negotiations when you did actually enlist. Or, if you didn’t have what it took, which was more often than not, it gave the hopeful an opportunity to tuck tail and run without getting siphoned off into whatever horrible general infantry unit needed bodies the most.

If Equestria wasn’t so desperate for replacements the practice would have never been allowed. But, it was, and Gearing took full advantage of it. Which is how he found himself in the tunnel of the Equestrian Defense Force’s administration building that lead to the outdoor track and field where the most recent round of tryouts just ended.

Like the other hopefuls, he’d been given the option for hanging around for a few hours while the scores are tallied and to receive an answer in person. The other option was to return home and await an official letter with his answer some time in the next week. No one was willing to wait that long that was serious about it. Gearing included. So he’d gone through the tunnel towards the inside area expecting to wait in the lounge reading whatever magazines they had available.

Instead he was stopped in route right after the first turn by three pegasi blocking his path. With another two coming up behind him and preventing his retreat back to the line of sight with the track outside.

Gearing backed up to a wall instinctively, and since then has been looking back and forth with his eyes waiting for their next move. He’d been in similar situations before, and quickly starts running through his various options. The five are easily recognizable to him. Although, to be fair, he’d probably recognize them better from behind. As each and every single one of them had blown him out of the water during the speed trials. His eyes zip around to each of them as he quickly runs the various scores attributed to each pegasi’s sash number. He’d been keeping an eye out for the competition, trying to gauge his own ability by measuring his own accomplishments to the others. An easy task for him given the sash they all had to wear had an easily noticeable number to keep track of who was who in the field and in the air.

And by his rough estimates, going on the theory that everything is weighted equally, he’s pretty sure he’s surrounded by five of the top six. And, depending on how things are weighted, these ponies may very well be the top five of this class of tryouts.

The brown buck in the middle of the three that’d blocked him steps closer as he points a hoof at Gearing. “Just what the fuck are you doing here?”

Gearing glances at him sideways and replies flatly, “I am on my way to the lounge to await my standing results.”

A chartreuse mare that’d came up to box him in steps closer as she shakes her head and points a hoof at Gearing. “We don’t mean where are you going… Why are you here at tryouts?! What’s a little mutant protectapony doing trying out for the Shadowbolts?!”

Gearing narrows his eyes as he directs his focus at the mare to his right. “I’m not some protectapony! And I think I got what it takes!” he practically growls as he looks up at her. He quickly zips his eyes around, looking at the others for fractions of a second as he goes from pony to pony to stay aware of what each one is doing as much as he can. The one thing she had right, in his opinion, and is objectively truthful, is the others are far bigger than he is. He was the smallest one of this tryout class. And a few of the others have him by a whole head height more than him at that.

A purple stallion to the brown bucks left steps forward as he mocks, “I’m notta protectapony. I can do it. I think I can I think I can I think I can…” He shakes his head and looks at the brown buck next to him as he asks, “What is this bullshit? I didn’t sign up for this.”

The gray mare to the brown bucks right hops in the air and starts fluttering around as she asks with a near whine, “Are you kidding me?! Just when I think they’ve had a high enough casualty rate that I might actually get in this time, and now they start turning out protectaponies to steal our jobs? This ain’t fair!” She scowls at Gearing and ruffles her feathers mid-flight in irritation.

A blueberry purple buck, the last member of the apparent ambush, paces back and forth from his spot as he glares at Gearing. “This has to be some kind of prototype. I’ve never seen anything like it. Never even heard of anything like it. It’s so small it’s probably fragile… those wings look like you flick them and they’d shatter.”

The chartreuse mare next to him tilts her head as she wonders out loud, “I wonder if the size is the reason why it can fly… I mean… yeah… it’s slow as molasses… but it still flies better than an earth pony.”

The purple stallion walks closer towards Gearing as he grins. “I bet if something happened to its freakish wings, they’d realize it’s hopeless and give up whatever earth pony mental jerk-off of a project spawned this thing…”

The gray mare folds her forelegs in front of herself as she huffs, “Why stop at the wings? Bust it up good and proper and they’ll see only real pegasi can do the job right…”

Gearing’s eyes jump over to hers as he grumbles, “I am a pegasus.”

The brown buck gets in his face as he taps a hoof on Gearing’s chest. “Who the fuck told you to talk, protectapony? Shut up while we figure out what to do with you.”

Gearing looks up at the buck a full head taller than him and glares back defiantly as he replies, “You’re not my boss, I’ll talk when I wish…” He raises up his right forehoof and shakes it in the face of his challenger. “And if you try anything I’ll clean your clock!”

The blueberry purple buck hops over and hits Gearing in the side of the head, as his focus was on the brown buck in front of him, and screams, “Sounds like an invitation to me!”

Gearing’s head rocks sideways a bit, making him have to readjust his footing from the full weighted impact. The purple buck stumbles around shaking his hoof as he lets out a cry of shock and pain. Gearing turns his head and looks at his attacker as his scowl slowly morphs into a sneering smirk. “You all might be faster than me… But I’m stronger and tougher than you!” He snaps his left wing out, helping to pull the brown buck closer to himself as he hops forward and hits him with his right hoof in such a way that it looks like he’s practically walking over the brown buck.

The hall devolves into pandemonium as all six of the pegasi start fighting. And it only gets worse as one light after another goes out from getting smashed by wayward debris or hooves.

The others have a noticeable speed advantage, but they are in a cramped tunnel that they can’t really maneuver in. Gearing, however, has the size advantage of having far more room to hop around relative to his size. The pegasi fight not only on the ground but up in the air as they throw out one strike after another at Gearing, and he actually uses the walls, ceiling, and floor to spring around his attackers as he lashes back at them for their ignorance and cruelty.

The brown buck catches an unlucky hit on his jaw from Gearing’s flailing foreleg and goes tumbling onto his side as he’s momentarily knocked into a haze. The gray mare and the blueberry purple buck jump at him from opposite sides, he flattens himself to duck under the gray mare as he spins around on his forehooves. Then, as the blueberry purple buck gets within range, Gearing bucks him with both hindhooves hard enough to send the blueberry purple buck sailing perpendicular to his flight path into the wall with a meaty thud before falling down to the ground in a heap.

The chartreuse mare and the purple stallion use the opportunity to pile onto Gearing, and start lashing at him with a variety of kicks from all four limbs simultaneously. At least as much as they can given the situation. Gearing screams in pain and frustration as the sound of breaking glass fills the hallway and he’s grounded under the onslaught. He grabs the chartreuse mare’s mane with his fetlock, and yanks her over, off him, and down into the ground, causing her scalp to bleed from a portion of it getting ripped out from the sudden force. He spins around, bucking the air feebly for a moment before partially leaning over and jumping into the wall backwards, smashing the purple stallion with his brassy mass and dislodging them and their grip on him.

He turns his attention to the brown buck that’d managed to get back up to his hooves, and is preparing to charge Gearing, only for Gearing to catch a blow from the side as a concrete trash can base slams into him at full force as the gray mare zips by and uses it as an improvised missile. Gearing’s scream changes pitch as the one wing that’d taken the full brunt of the impact implodes inwards, metal warping and crystals flying in every direction as the wing shatters.

The gray mare lets out a whoop of excitement at the effectiveness of her strike, only to almost fall to the ground in shock as Gearing’s face changes from pain to a scathing ode to menace as he grabs the trash can and lifts it in the air above his head to throw it at her, with nothing more than his right fetlock. “Trash my wing, will ya?! Let’s see how you like it!” he bellows as he winds up for the pitch.

“What the hay’s going on down here?!” a mare’s voice demands from the shadows nearby, on the deeper in portion of the tunnel, where all of the lights had become collateral damage during the fight and been smashed.

Everyone freezes and the fight comes to a dead stop as they look in the direction of the source of the voice.

The other five pegasi seem to start coming back to their senses as their malicious intent gives way to looks of fear. From Gearing’s perspective it seems they finally thought their entire situation over, and, even though they’d be wrong, they seem to realize the downside to being caught damaging government prototypes.

Gearing carefully sets down the trash can as he looks at the silhouette in the dark and his eyes slowly grow to their widest. The voice is familiar, but he can’t believe it would be them. He’s just never been that lucky for it to be true.

A scowling cyan pegasus walks into the light from the dark in her Shadowbolt officer’s uniform as her magenta eyes jump from one hopeful to the next. “Somepony better start talking soon… just look at this mess… I’m sure not cleaning all this up!”

No one says anything for a few moments, which is way longer than she was willing to wait for an answer. And that point is made clear when she yells out, “I asked you recruits a question! You better answer, that’s an order!”

The other five pegasi look at each other as they get exceedingly nervous. The purple stallion closes his eyes as he looks off to the side. “Given I haven’t enlisted yet… I’m not in the military and don’t have to follow that order… And I don’t think saying anything would help my case…”

The gray mare bites her lower lip hard enough to draw blood before she weakly waves towards him and mutters, “What he said.”

The cyan pegasus brushes her chromatic mane with a forehoof as she sighs, “Well, that’s a career ender before it even started. Not wanting to answer a simple question is a stupid reason to get barred from service…”

Gearing shakes off the haze of being starstruck before he snaps to attention and salutes as he replies, “Ma’am, Rainbow Dash Ma’am, it was a fight involving six Shadowbolt hopefuls. No actual personnel were involved. The fight was over scores and standings, ma’am. I believe I may have injured a few of my classmates and they are in need of medical treatment, ma’am.”

Rainbow Dash trails her eyes over the others, but settles on Gearing as he speaks. Her hard scowl softens a little as she actually smiles at his performance. She shakes her head and asks, “The smallest among you is the one with the most guts?” She shakes her head again and snickers before she looks at the others. “Take your friends to the medical bay while I have a word with this one.”

The others look at each other warily and seem to be on the verge of objecting again before the scowl returns to Rainbow Dash’s face as she snaps, “That wasn’t a suggestion… do it, now, or you’re all under arrest. You may not be in the military yet, but you are still on government property… So get!”

The three less injured ones zip around in the air for a moment before hurrying up and helping to cart off their injured co-conspirators. The blueberry purple stallion seems to have gotten the worst of it as his side has two noticeable dents in it, even with his fur, and he’s having a hard time breathing as he’s carried off to medical.

After they have disappeared, Dash takes in the view of the area and seems noticeably impressed by the destruction. She looks around at the ground, sees the smattering of blood, bits of metal, and crystal everywhere and lets out a light whistle at the combined devastation that had been unleashed. She trails her eyes back to focus on Gearing and asks, “You okay?”

Gearing salutes and grins as his eyes practically sparkle from seeing his idol. “Yes, Ma’am, Dash Ma’am! Never better!”

Rainbow Dash looks him over, lingering on his numbered sash for a moment, and gets a sour look on her face. “Do not lie to me, soldier.” She waves a hoof around at the debris covered ground. “There’s pieces of you everywhere… you gave as good as you got, which is saying something considering there was five of them. But drop the bravado, I want the truth, recruit.”

Gearing’s smile slowly fades from his face. He tries to keep it on there as long as possible, but it randomly twitches and fails until it entirely crumbles out of existence. He lowers his hoof and directs his face down at the ground before looking up at her with just his eyes. “I know one of my wings are broken. I think the other one is too… And I have a lot of other damage to the rest of me that I don’t know how to explain to you, Ma’am.” He stares up at Rainbow Dash, who’s already much taller than he is, but currently seems even more imposing as she looms over him and looks him over carefully, as he awaits for her to come to whatever decision she seems like she’s thinking about.

Her eyes jump around from one brass plate to the next as she screws up her face from one side to the other while she looks like she’s trying to sort through a difficult puzzle that was sprung on her. After a few moments of apparently trying to figure it, and him, out, she comments with a wave of her hoof down the tunnel, “Nopony told me anything about sending you for tryouts. Do you need help getting to the repair bay?”

Gearing, despite his fanatical adoration of Rainbow Dash, while entirely out of character for a fanboy of the famous mare, and surprisingly so for someone that just took the concentrated beating of five young pegasi, screams out like he has never done in his life in response. The unfairness of it all bellowing out of him like a dragon’s roar. Taking the abuse he’s had to go through from others throughout his life was bad enough. Abuse both mental, with the constant questioning of his equinity and marginalization of his very right to exist, to the physical harm from such exemplary beatings by bigots like the one he just suffered through, was bad enough. But he could handle it. He could take it. He could endure. Bigots are going to bigot after all. But this was beyond anything he could withstand. Not Dash. Not his idol too. She was better than that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if it turned out she was just as bad as the bastards that just broke so much of him. Unlike anyone else in the world, she held the power to truly break his heart.

And it was just too much for him to hold in anymore.

So he screamed. He screamed at someone he never thought he’d get to meet, let alone speak to. He screamed in a way he’d never imagined he would. With a loud screech that miraculously transformed the pain from his very soul into sufficiently heart wrenching tones that echo down the tunnel. And, he knows without a doubt, if he was more pony-like than he is, he’d do it with so many tears in his eyes that he wouldn’t even be able to see anymore. But, he’s cursed. And the universe is cruel. Especially to him.

So Gearing’s even denied the tears that he should be shedding as he wails, “I’m a buck! Not some damn machine!”

Dash’s eyes shoot open to their fullest, in genuine shock, as she takes a step back in recoil at the pure force unleashed with his cry of anguish.

But, this time is not like he had previously experienced with such universal frustrations regarding his life. This time he was not screaming into the uncaring void. And it did not fall on deaf ears.

For Rainbow Dash was listening.

She takes a tentative step towards him, and gently uses her hoof on the underside of his chin to direct his downcast gaze to look her in the eyes. They exchange a lengthy eye contact, as the two seem to try and process what they should do next, before she asks, “Would you come with me so we can talk? I want to know about you. You can tell me about yourself while we get you looked at.”

He raises an eyebrow, and his focus jumps from one of her magenta eyes to the other as he waits for the universe to drop its stereotypically unfunny punch line on him.

Seemingly guessing his uneasiness with her request, she gives him a light smile as she starts, “Well… Because…” she tilts her head and grins widely as she finishes with a nod, “Because I think you’re awesome!”

Gearing’s eyes shoot to their widest, and practically sparkle. His mouth opens a crack in a slight smile but he’s unable to say anything for a few moments as he stares off into nothing.

Somewhere in the distance, a diamond dog clamps his paws over his ears and starts howling in pain at the loud high pitched noise of Gearing’s squee.

After a few moments, and getting no apparent response from Gearing, she waves a hoof in front of his eyes. “Uhhh, you okay, recruit? Did you pass out on me?”

Gearing pulls away lightly and shakes his head. “No, ma’am! Sorry, ma’am!” His head jerks to look both ways as his wings partially drag on the ground. “Which way to medical?”

Rainbow Dash looks at him for a few moments, then asks, “Medical? You need a doctor?”

He looks at her sheepishly and grinds a hoof into the stone floor tile under him. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. And… simple bandages don’t work for me. Only magic does.” He looks off to the side hoping he won’t be cast out by his specific needs.

She looks off in the direction the other five pegasi had went as she scrunches up her face in thought. A moment later she nods and starts trotting down the tunnel, in the opposite direction that the other youth had gone. “Follow me, recruit, I know where to go.”

Gearing does so, eagerly. He’s so lost in thought of the excitement of getting a personal escort by a living legend that he doesn’t pay much attention to the twists and turns they take as she leads him deeper into the complex. However, after a few minutes of blindly following her he stops dead in his tracks, staring at a sign above a doorway that Dash had just went right through. He stares at it for a few moments, and his eyes jump back and forth between it and Dash.

Dash, apparently quickly noticing the lack of a second set of hooves clicking down the hall, spins around and asks as she can see his hooves rooted in place, “Recruit, why have you stopped?”

Gearing points at the sign above the door and says sheepishly, “Officers only, ma’am.”

She zips out, looks at the sign, and blows it off with a wave of her hoof and a nicker. “You’re acting under my orders. If they have anything to say about it, they have to deal with me.”

Gearing swallows hard with an audible gulp, but still looks around nervously and doesn’t move.

Rainbow Dash walks past him, braces both of her forehooves on the ground then, like a slow motion buck, plants a hind hoof on each of his flanks, and gives a hard buck, sliding him the last few feet through the door. “I said move it, recruit!”

He skids to a halt, then spins sideways and salutes as he says, “Ma’am! Sorry, ma’am!”

She trots back in and asks with a chuckle as she passes him, “Buck, you are heavy! Those wings for decoration, or can you actually fly?”

Gearing salutes again. “I can fly, Dash ma’am!” He fans out his wings, and gives a choke as he tries to flap them downwards. The right side wing imploding on itself, buckling incorrectly and hinging unnaturally mid-length. He winces and gingerly folds the ruined things he calls wings tightly to himself as he mutters out apologies.

She turns around and looks at him in horror. “Recruit! That was a simple question! I like the enthusiasm, but we can’t use you if you permanently cripple yourself! Don’t use your wings again until you’re cleared by the doctor, that’s an order, recruit!”

Gearing salutes again and puts on the same stoic face he had previously. “Ma’am! Yes, ma’am!” Rainbow Dash smirks as she watches him and seems to be enjoying the bit as much, or more, than Gearing is.

They continue down the hall, with Gearing’s wings crinkling and tinkling as he moves. Every now and then another piece of the seemingly stained glass fragments of his wings come loose, falls away, and goes skidding across the floor. After a few more moments, Dash turns and opens up a door abruptly.

A startled stallion yells from inside. “Who the hell- Oh… It’s you… would you please knock next time? I don’t need a sudden gust of wind scattering my paperwork or ruining an experiment.”

Rainbow Dash gives a shrug and a grin in reply, completely not caring. And, from the roll of the cream colored unicorn’s eyes, it’s not the first time he’s received such complete dismissal at the exact same request. A moment later he asks, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

She rears up a bit, giving just enough wing power to almost hover, as she claps her forehooves together and says with excitement in her voice, “Crème, I gotta show you something awesome!” She pokes her head back through the door, then beckons Gearing inside.

Gearing walks in slowly, his head held low, as he isn’t quite sure what to make of the situation. As he crosses the threshold, he sees most of the walls of this apparent lab are covered in shelves and various cabinetry. The visible shelves are all crammed full of a mass of books, paperwork, and equipment for the lab. Most of the interior of the room is open space, with a couple chemistry labs set up on stands and tables, and a large heavy-duty table set low to the ground in the center that has a bright swinging light installed on a mechanical arm over it.

The unicorn adjusts the glasses at the end of his nose and asks as he starts stepping closer to examine the new arrival. “And… just what do we have here?”

Rainbow Dash looks at Crème, with both forehooves pointed out at Gearing, her mouth agape, and uncontrollable excitement etched over her face. But says nothing. Her mouth hangs there, wide open, in the exact same excited expression as she’d started speaking with.

Soundless, as the seconds tick by and nothing further happens.

She turns her focus towards Gearing and grins wider. “How abouuut… you introduce yourself?”

Gearing grins back and then obediently steps forward while looking at the unicorn. He opens his mouth wide, with his head tilted, as he points a hoof at himself and closes his eyes. But, like Rainbow Dash, nothing comes out. He closes his mouth, and tilts his head as he slowly starts rolling his eyes over and up to look at the ceiling.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He turns his head to look at Rainbow Dash with his lips pursed to the side. She stares back with a grin, but one that slowly becomes slightly forced, and a bit sheepish.

He turns towards Rainbow Dash, sits down as properly as he can, and bows his head a moment before he comes back up and looks her in the eye. “Ma’am, my name’s Gearing. And I’m a recruit hopeful for the Shadowbolts.”

Crème snorts a laugh and Dash sheepishly shrugs as, despite whatever anyone might say, it got done anyway. And, after all, results were all that mattered, by her measure, not the unimportant details.

Crème walks over and starts examining Gearing from various angles as he comments, “You seem to be quite damaged-”

“Injured,” Dash quickly interrupts.

Crème looks at her sideways over his glasses, then at Gearing with an eyebrow slightly tilted. “That is what I meant, of course.”

Gearing, deciding he’s actually had a rather pleasant day, probably one of the best of his life, elects to spare them both the embarrassment and trouble of having to ask about him. So, he volunteers, “I’m a clockwork. Don’t try to think too hard about it. Simply put, I’m a pegasus that’s been cursed.”

They both look at each other, with Dash obviously expecting Crème to fill in the gaps and translate for her, and then back at Gearing. Crème finally responds with a raised eyebrow and a scientific tone of finality, “Curses aren’t real. The magic sciences have easily disproved such superstitious nonsense the zebra keep spouting. It’s all well documented, repeatable, testable, and I can assure you there’s nothing supernatural about it.”

Gearing rolls his eyes, and thumps a hoof against his metallic chest. “Then explain me!”

This begins a long conversation between the three as Crème and Rainbow Dash try to honestly understand his condition. Each one offering up additional questions or suggestions as the time goes on and they try to wrap their brains around what he actually is. Normally, he’d feel really annoyed by all of this attention. It’s happened so many times before already, and certainly won’t be the last of it, that he’d usually cut them off with the first round of lead in questions or statements. He’s developed a fine-tuned sense for whenever any questions come anywhere near his equinity and he doesn’t take kindly to it. Normally. But, he just can’t be cross when one of those interested in him is Rainbow Dash. A living legend. His personal hero and an exemplary moral compass for how everypony should act. She’s one of the, if not thee, most genuine ponies he’s ever met. If she didn’t care at all, she’d have left long ago. She’d have gotten bored, and left to find something more interesting to do. But, no, she’s stayed right there, sometimes hovering around, sometimes sitting. All the while engaging him in conversation all about himself.

Eventually the conversation comes back around to the point he’d been dragged there in the first place: his injuries.

Dash looks at Crème and asks with her hooves folded across her chest, “So, how can we fix him?”

Crème runs a hoof through the back of his mane as he eyeballs a variety of supplies sitting on the surrounding shelves. “I have some mini torches… We could call down to maintenance to send up a bot?”

Dash cringes and looks sideways at Gearing, apparently expecting another shockwave inducing outburst. However, she’s pleasantly surprised by his tempered response.

“Crème. That won’t work. I told you already. I’m a pegasus…” The blank stare directed at him annoys him more than anything, so he offers, “If you have a healing potion, even a weak one, I can show you and prove it to you. It has to be magical though.”

Dash zips around in a cyan blur and reappears over by a cabinet as she starts rummaging around through a variety of vials on the shelves and in the cabinets.

Crème runs over and chases her away with shooing motions of his forehooves. “Don’t go messing with my chemicals! You’ll kill us all!” Having saved himself from an over-enthusiastic Dash chemical fire, he trots over to one of the spots on the wall not covered by a cabinet. He opens up a shiny, freshly painted, metal box attached to the wall, with the familiar three butterflies on a cross adorning the lid, and sorts through the various supplies that are inside.

Crème comes back and sets down a bottle of thick purple liquid in front of Gearing with his levitation field, then sits back and watches with a raised eyebrow. “Okay then… Here you go. Show us this ‘curse’ you’re talking about.”

Gearing grabs the bottle with a hoof, and pops the top. He gives it a long slow sniff, and can’t help but lick his lips at the sweet effervescence coming out. Of the few things that have any real taste to them for Gearing, magical potions have the most pungent of them all in his experience. By now he’s suspected that it may be the magic in the potion itself that he’s tasting, and that, possibly, it’s able to break through the curses numbing effects on his body to give him just that slight glimmer of light. Though, being a small pegasus with limited resources, he’s not really been able to put any of those theories to the test reliably. He looks at the two, raises the bottle in a silent toast to their health, and starts downing the entire thing by tilting his head back and slamming the vial’s contents as quickly as he can.

Crème leans over as Gearing guzzles down the liquid, looking at the small pegasus closely. His eyes travel down Gearing’s throat and across his length, paying careful attention to his abdomen and belly. His eyes dart around, looking for something. But, oddly, to him at least, no fluid appears. Despite the apparent many gaps in Gearing’s body, for moving parts can’t possibly be water tight, none of the fluid escapes. With his eyes so close, he freezes in place, and watches in amazement at what unfolds before his eyes. Literally in a couple cases. One of the plates that had been bucked in during the fight, slowly pops out and reforms itself. A few of the gears in a section of Gearing’s abdomen reorient themselves and start moving more fluidly, and in line with each other, as Gearing slowly moves his body to give the individual pieces the space they need.

Crème pulls back, and looks over his glasses at Gearing’s face in complete bewilderment. Only to be shocked even more by the massive grin Gearing is giving him. More so at the realization that Gearing’s right eye seems to be looking at him far more clearly than it had a moment ago. He didn’t have a basis to judge it on, but he now realizes that the eye had been severely damaged given how it currently has nice neat geometric patterns to it.

Dash slowly sinks to the ground as her wings slow their fluttering, her mouth agape at what’s happened. Her eyes zip around from point to point in typical Rainbow Dash speed as she watches Gearing’s body seemingly automatically repair itself from a single potion. She looks at Crème and points a hoof at Gearing, saying nothing. She pulls it back then throws out both forehooves at Gearing as she exclaims, “Did you see that?!” She zips around in a circle and grins widely. “That was awesome! Holy crap! He’s got his own self-repairing armor!”

Crème smirks at Dash with a shake of his head before he looks Gearing over some more, eventually settling his gaze to look into Gearing’s eyes. After a few moments of this stare off, with Gearing not blinking, he asks, “Feel better?”

Gearing nods rapidly. Though such actions knock loose a few pieces of stained glass that clatter down to the floor. Crème stares at the pieces on the floor for a moment and then looks back at Gearing. “You need more healing, don’t you?”

Gearing looks down and grinds a hoof into the floorboards. “I can heal on my own… but it’ll take a long while to recover from this.” He looks over at Dash sheepishly and says, “But I could use some more magical healing, if you can spare it.”

Dash looks at him for a few moments and hops up and down a few times as she keeps looking him over excitedly. “You said you were here to tryout, right?”

Gearing nods, shaking loose yet another piece. “Uh huh!”

Dash turns to look at Crème just long enough to say, “Get him healed up, I’ll be right back!” then she zips out of the office, causing a tornado of paperwork to flutter into the air behind her and out of the door.

Crème doesn’t even care. He doesn’t even notice the variety of paperwork becoming so much over sized confetti littering the ground out and into the hallway as he stares at the small pegasus shaped puzzle in front of his very eyes.

Crème looks Gearing over as he adjusts his glasses on the end of his nose and asks, “Only potions? Or any magical healing?”

Gearing shrugs. “I just know that normal bandages do nothing. And some herbal mixes work, while others don’t…”

Crème steps close and grins as his eyes light up. “Want to try some experimentation? See what we can do for you?”

Gearing tilts his head momentarily in thought, but then hops up onto his hooves happily. “Sure!”

Crème leads him to the table in the center, and has Gearing lay down. It takes a bit of coaxing to get Gearing to comply, and more than a few promises that the table is even stronger than it looks. His horn glows and a variety of books come sliding out of different shelves and lay out onto various stands that he’s pulled out with the same golden glow. The stands set up on the floor and table, with the books landing on them and all opening to various pages as he glances at them for reference. He waves his glowing horn around, first starting with Gearing’s mangled wing. Crème tries a variety of spells, but is frustrated by a few of his attempts. However, others give him a lot of hope and encouragement. Once he stopped thinking of the wing’s framework as metal, and started trying to mentally picture bones in its place instead, the spells started working fantastically.

During this whole time of trial and error Gearing’s laid there, as still as he could manage, and only grunting every now and then. All while not saying anything, nor screaming.

Crème quickly starts feeling bad for Gearing. All of the spells that would give a typical pony the sweet relief of anesthetic have no affect on him. He doesn’t know why, but he suspects that the term ‘curse’ is rearing its ugly head again. Sweat forms on his brow as he waves his horn as a detector and continues registering more and more damage.

The more he becomes familiar with Gearing’s particular anatomy, the more he becomes familiar with the spell’s effect and usage on him. And the more he becomes familiar with the spell’s effects on Gearing, the more it’s able to tell him.

And, from what he can tell, Gearing must be in a lot of pain.

After some effort he’s able to straighten out Gearing’s wings, both of them, and fix them so that they no longer grind when he folds them. He telekinetically tucks them at Gearing’s sides, and uses a few bandages, of the magical variety, to wrap and bind them to his sides. Before Gearing is even close to being finished recovering, Crème is already panting and feeling dizzy.

As he lays on the table, Gearing raises a hoof towards Crème and says softly, “Thank you. But, it’s alright. I’ll be okay. Take a rest. I’m not worth it.”

Crème’s eyes open to their fullest and he snorts in disgust. He stomps over to the medical supply box, empties the rest of its contents out, and sets it all down in front of Gearing. He organizes the supplies in an array and looks at Gearing through his glasses. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, young buck…” He grabs a syringe of Med-X with his weakening magical field and says flatly, “Open your mouth.”

Gearing looks at the syringe with his eyes wide, but then slowly complies as he meets the stare of Crème.

Crème uses his magic and points the needle deep inside Gearing’s throat, and hits the plunger, squirting all of the fluid out in one go.

Gearing shivers, shudders, and clamps his mouth as he starts working his tongue around after Crème has pulled the syringe far enough away. Crème looks him over a bit before he asks, “Well?”

Gearing looks at him, and tilts his head, then shrugs lightly. The wince in his face when his wings moved with the action tells Crème exactly what he didn’t want to hear: it didn’t work.

Next he tosses out a few pills from the Buck bottle and pops them in Gearing’s mouth. “Chew and swallow quickly.”

Gearing does as instructed, and has a lot of trouble getting the chalky substance down his throat. He grabs a bottle of water nearby, takes a swig, and swishes it around in his mouth, before swallowing it and looking at Crème for his next instructions.

“Well?” Crème asks again.

Gearing tilts his head and says, “Tastes… bitter? I think bitter’s the word?”

Crème looks at him for a few moments then shakes his head with a sigh. “Boy, we’re going to have a lot of fun trying to figure you out…” He sits down, and pushes the healing potions he’d brought towards Gearing with a hoof. “Start drinking these… Work from left to right…” While Gearing is still trying to sort that out, Crème uses his magic to wrap Gearing with the remaining two magically enhanced bandages. Both of which get allocated and used on the same badly mangled wing that had been on the receiving end of an improvised concrete trash can projectile.

When Dash returns flying through the door with a folder tucked under her foreleg, she takes in the sight of Gearing sitting on the table, nursing a healing potion and surrounded by empty bottles like some barfly drowning his sorrows in Wild Pegasus. She trails her eyes slowly, carefully, over Gearing’s form and notices that, despite looking almost like a mummy, Gearing is looking remarkably better. The crystals in his wings have regrown with the magical assistance he’s received, practically glittering in spots where they’re peeking through gaps in the bandages, and his hide is steadily taking on a sheen that rivals most armor plating fresh off the assembly line.

After taking in the progress she lands on the side near Crème before tossing the folder onto the table next to Gearing. But, if her speed, or more accurately lack of, is any indicator, she doesn’t have quite the same amount of gusto as when she’d left. In fact her expression is hard to read at the moment.

Crème looks at her and motions with his head towards Gearing. “This one’s interesting for sure…”

Dash glances at Crème and nods, then turns to look at Gearing. “You said you wanted to be a Shadowbolt. Right?”

Gearing pulls the last bottle away from his lips enough to nod quickly. “Yes, Ma’am! I want to keep everypony safe, like you do!”

“Well, those are your results…” Dash points a hoof at the folder and asks, “Care to have a look?”

Gearing looks down at the folder and sees the giant red stamp ‘Top Secret’ across its surface and debates if he should. He’s sure he shouldn’t even be in the same room as this file, let alone cracking it open.

Dash, having gotten no real response, offers, “Well, I’ll save you the time. I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it.”

Gearing’s head hangs from his neck as he looks down at the ground. He tried. He had tried his best. He even strained some things during a few of the tests to try and show he was worthy. Yes, it’s true, his speed was lacking, but he’s sure not a normal pegasi alive could match his strength. He knew he was top of his class in that category at least. Even though that’s something more for the category of an earth pony to be proud of, he’s still glad and proud to have that much going for him at least. But this? This hurts.

Dash sits down and huffs as she angrily folds her forelegs across her chest. “I don’t like it at all!” she repeats. “It’s clear that they had no intention of letting you join, regardless of scores…” She hops over, grabs the folder, and flips it open to an ear marked page and shows Crème. “You see this?! A whole page talking about not trusting ‘automatons’ for these kinds of jobs. A recommendation for ‘it’ to be decommissioned or sent to guard some warehouse somewhere… even went so far as to say that the programming seems to be off.”

Crème reads a different passage aloud, “’… complaints from recruits, and officers alike, wanting to know since when they have to compete with earth pony Arcano-tech to get a job.’? They can’t be serious.”

The more Gearing hears the more he wants to scream, and he’s having a hard time fighting his impulse. So, instead, he downs the rest of the potion, and then he starts chugging the large jug of water nearby. If his muzzle is full enough of water, it can’t fill up with the various curses and obscenities that are trying to pour out of him.

Dash looks at Gearing and says flatly, “Gearing, I’m sorry, but we can’t use you in the Shadowbolts.”

Gearing chokes on the water, and it spews out of his muzzle and nose alike like some out of control fountain. Having been holding back his scream, and getting jarred by the announcement, he’s left hacking up the water as it’d gone down an unintended passage. And, eventually, he just lets it drain out of his mouth and sinuses as he hangs his head over the side of the table and tries his best not to cry.

Gearing closes his eyes and thinks bitterly, Nothing like trying to prove your worth, only to find out that you’re worthless.

Dash sits down and folds her forelegs again as she regards him. “Do you know why?” Gearing says nothing, so she repeats, “I asked you a question, recruit.”

Gearing shakes his head, successfully getting startled out of his funk, as he continues sending the dribbling water down to the floor. This is the closest he’s ever been to even appearing to cry normally. “No, Ma’am.”

Dash taps on the folder with a hoof. “You’re too slow.”

Gearing lifts his head up, and raises an eyebrow as he tries to figure out her angle. She’s already crushed his dreams, now she’s apparently wanting to kick dirt in his face while he’s down to boot. But he’s sure that can’t be it. Dash is Dash. She wouldn’t do that, he’s sure.

She opens up the folder to another page and shows his numerical results, paired up with the averages from the past and of the current class. “I’m not some egghead, but according to this. You’re just too damn slow.” She looks up at him. “The Shadowbolts focus on quick hit operations. Agility. Speed. That’s the team’s specialty. That’s their strength…” She points a hoof at him. “But, that’s where you’re at your weakest.”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh as the last of the water gets blown out of his lungs. He figures it may be horseapples, but at least it’s a lot kinder way of doing it. She’s still doing him a service. And he’s grateful for it. He dips his head towards her as he says softly, “Well… thank you for your consideration. I’ll… I’ll show myself out.” He gets up and hops down off the table, and then starts walking slowly around it towards the door.

“Does it have to be the Shadowbolts, Gearing?”

Gearing turns his head to look at Rainbow Dash as she stares at him with a raised eyebrow and her hooves folded in front of herself. “What do you mean?” Gearing asks softly. He can’t think of anything else that he’d rather be doing with his life. Working with Rainbow Dash. Saving Equestria. It’s the kind of thing that he feels he was born for. The kind of thing that would give justification to the torment he’s gone through during his life.

Dash shrugs then points a hoof at him. “You said you wanted to be able to save everypony… Does it have to be with the Shadowbolts?”

Gearing tilts his head. Considering her for a few moments as everything she’s said replays in his mind’s eye.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

He shakes his head then says, “I don’t know where I’d fit in… but…” He looks off to the side and says sheepishly, “I’d work anywhere, if it was with you, Rainbow Dash, ma’am.” His eyes pop open and he looks at Dash with his jaw dropped as he suddenly realizes how that sounded.

Crème doesn’t help matters any as he chuckles and snorts in amusement.

Dash turns her head and smirks, then elbows Crème in his side. She stands up straight and presents a hoof towards Gearing. “Then I would like to officially welcome you to the Ministry of Awesome! You won’t be working with the Shadowbolts. But you will be working for me. It won’t be easy, I can promise you that. Do you accept, recruit?”

Gearing sails over the table in a single pounce, grabbing her hoof with both of his as he grins and shakes her hoof enthusiastically. “Yes! Whatever you need!”

Crème looks at the two then asks with a hushed tone as he leans towards Dash, “They’ve blackballed him… you know that.”

Dash waves it off. “Luna put me in charge. Nothing and nopony gets into the ministry without my approval. And only things that are awesome get in.” She looks at Gearing and gives him an even wider grin. “And Gearing’s awesome!” She hops back and starts shadow boxing all around herself. “I mean he took on five of those top recruits, and was winning! Like pow, bop! And oh man does he have a mean left! He’s heavy weight class! It was like watching a … a… a mini Big Mac! And he just wouldn’t give up! Like some sort of non quitting thing. He’s got that certain can-do stick-to-it kind of spirit!”

“Tenacity?” Crème offers.

Dash looks at him and says, “Gesundheit,” before turning to look back at Gearing. Her eyes spring to their widest as she says gleefully, “He’s likeTank!”

Crème raises an eyebrow and asks, “I thought we’ve already been educated to the fact that he’s not some machine, that he’s a pegasus?”

Dash shakes her head quickly and points a hoof at Gearing. “No, not a tank. Tank, my pet tortoise.” She looks at Gearing again and grins. “He didn’t give up despite the odds either.” She folds her forehooves across her chest as she nods and continues with her eyes closed, “They’re both kind of slow, but tough as can be… and… “She starts giggling before she looks over at Crème and adds with a grin, “If either of them hit you in the head, I guarantee you’re going to have a bad day and get a concussion!”

Gearing freezes in his hooves again, coming to an absolute standstill with his eyes going to their widest while they practically sparkle as he looks up at the much taller pair. Joy. Pure, unhindered, unmasked joy. The past be damned, right now he’s experiencing true bliss.

Crème shakes his head and points at Gearing, who’s still in a near catatonic bliss-fueled state, and asks, “And just what’s he going to be doing then? If not the Shadowbolts, then where?”

Dash looks at him for a moment, and a smug grin adorns her face before she shrugs. “I dunno. I’ll figure that out later.” She spins around rapidly in place and flops down on her rear as she slaps her hooves against her own cheeks and smooshes them together. She throws her hooves out towards Gearing and says with the glee of a sudden thought, “Pinkie’s going to love you!” She hops back and forth on her hindhooves as she claps her forehooves together rapidly. “Ooohhh I’m getting sooo many ideas!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sky always has, and always will, held a special place in the hearts of pegasi. There is something fundamentally right about being in the air, woven into their very core. Some see it as a bit of freedom, the ability to travel and just be of their own will and power. There is some morbid thrill of being able to, with each and every pump of their wings, deny death. Defy gravity itself. All with a flippant wave of their wings and a smile upon their face.

And, even as different as he was from other pegasi, Gearing objectively shared this trait with his winged brethren. Though, as much as he enjoyed being in the air simply for the sake of flying and nothing else, that’s not why he’d taken to the skies in this instance.

Yes, there was the need to keep a lookout for threats to his precious convoy below. Yes, flying above would give him a decided advantage, courtesy of a clear line of sight for quite a distance, for picking out such threats. And, yes, he could easily strategize, with relative impunity, against anypony stupid enough to attack this convoy simply because those bound to the ground don’t typically look directly above themselves all that often without reason or prompting. But, no, to say he’d only taken to the skies for the tactical advantage of providing overwatch would be a lie. Because what he truly wanted, needed really, was time. Time and distance.

Time to think, and distance from the convoy itself.

He needed to be away from Nahlah at the moment, because what she’d said, regardless of intentions, had struck a nerve with him. With a single statement of logical resignation, she’d opened up wounds that never healed properly the first time. And, in doing so, he needed time to figure things out for himself. In silence. And solitude.

And the skies mercifully still granted that, though they no longer provided the warm sun he had been used to since foalhood.

So, as his eyes continuously survey the convoy’s route, and the surrounding areas, his mind has started churning on processing a nagging question. And all of the tangled mess that such a wide net dredges up from his history. It’s widely known that sometimes the simplest seeming of questions can have the most convoluted of answers.

So when the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head had simply asked in exasperation, How the hell did we wind up in this situation? Gearing’s mind tore off on a circuit around the world of his mind’s eye’s universe. And, because of the way Gearing’s mind typically works, starting at the beginning was the only real choice.

And everything in Gearing’s mind pointed giant neon signs towards the day he agreed to work for Rainbow Dash as the undisputed champion of the beginning of how he found himself where he is currently. For as convoluted as his career, and life, had become, it was undeniable that the ignition point was when he tried out for the elite unit known as The Shadowbolts. Failed to get in. And, instead, was accepted directly into the Ministry of Awesome by, and under, Rainbow Dash herself.

So as he’s rapidly preoccupying himself with thinking about his career’s origins, in detail, he lets his eyes do the practically automatic process of looking for anypony, anycreature, or any threat to his charge.

In doing so he’s managed to keep his mind out of the gutter of dark thoughts that are creeping along the edges of his mind and trying to fill him with shame. Thoughts that hop in front of his mind’s eye like some annoying fool that keeps jumping in front of the projector and ruining the image at the cinema.

Thoughts like how he’s terrified, on a primal level, of four foals that, combined, weigh less than his left foreleg.

He’s managed to not put in his PipBuck’s ear pieces, and draws a bit of simplistic pride in the fact that he had managed to maintain composure, and simply rose higher in the air, when the first notes of some random song rose up to meet him. Instead of zipping up in a panic and not stopping until he’d managed to hide in a cloud. Or the moon. Or among the stars themselves.

He has deep reservations about anypony having the kind of power they are flippantly wielding. To him, this is tantamount to giving a foal a balefire bomb and telling them to have fun. Dangerous isn’t even an adequate enough word for it.

But, on the logical side of things, and, luckily for him, that has always been the dominant side of his psyche, he realizes that the kids don’t actually seem bad. After the initial panic, and some thought, he’d realized that, if they really were ‘that bad’ they would be using their abilities left, right, and center, and there’s not much anyone could do against them. He has a wingspan’s length list of names of individuals who, given the chance, would exploit the abilities these children have to their maximum potential.

But the children don’t, and the realization of their restraint fills Gearing with hope. However, he knows, deep down, only time will be able to tell for certain how good they are. And Gearing’s not much of a gambler. If he’s going to roll dice, he’s going to make sure they are properly loaded and tossed just right to get the results he desires.

Which means he’s going to make sure these foals get the best role models and guidance possible. Guidance to become good pony adults. Role models for what to strive for in their life. And, in doing so, give them a thorough education in common decency for their fellow creatures.

And, by his measure, Swift has got to be one of the best examples of it around. Her brash nature aside, she’s an individual with a good heart. Demonstrated again and again. With her care of foals that aren’t even hers. That she’d never even met previously and had no link to her what-so-ever. With her sense of sportsmanship with Goldfish at the Freight Cars’ fight arenas. Then, on top of all of that, given what he knows of her background, she knows all about being serious with discretion, when the time calls for it. And discretion will be a very important lesson for the foals. Thus making Swift uniquely qualified to provide guidance for them since she already has such a strong rapport with them.

Though it was no surprise to him, considering he’d been anxiously expecting it, it still jarred him when the first notes of some new song the foals started singing reached his ears. Before even registering what was being said, or done, he quickly slapped the ear pieces from his PipBuck into his ears as he gained altitude. A moment later, and after his conscious mind actually has time to process what had happened, he realizes the song wasn’t like the one previously. He slowly lowers himself closer to them as he strains to hear what is being said.

While grumbling to himself about losing the composure he’d just congratulated himself on maintaining not long ago.

He follows the kids for a short period, and watches with interest as the foals seem to bop along to the song, with Nahlah waving weakly with one paw from her perch across Sable’s back. He has a hard, if not impossible, time hearing any of it. But the children, as far as he can tell, seem to start marching in unison keeping up some kind of beat with their hooves as they are going. He catches bits and pieces of the lyrics, and, at least as far as he can tell, it is some kind of nearly childish rhyme about beating up anyone that comes close to them.

“… run, run! Flee, flee! Doom hath come for thee…”

He’s amused at first, but a little concerned and quickly pulls back up and away from the sound. It doesn’t miss his notice that, despite hearing it, it seemed to have zero effect on him. At least that he can tell. So he’s not sure if it’s a ‘normal’ song, as Swift had commented and previously requested, or maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a target this time. Or, possibly, was actually excluded, intentionally, from its effects.

He’s not sure, and is only left guessing and grasping at straws as he puzzles it over.

However, after following them for a bit longer at this distance, he spots a few radroaches in the middle of the road further up the path. Not exactly a real threat in such small numbers, but more than he’s willing to have close to Sable and the others. He checks their distance using the debris as a guide, and aims at them with his rifle’s scope as he starts to hover. But, he doesn’t shoot. Because, as he’s watching, the radroaches seem to pivot in unison, and look straight down the road to where the convoy is approaching from. Then, in a move that completely boggles Gearing’s mind, the roaches start running around in individual circles of shameless panic, even bumping into each other in a few instances. After a few seconds of the comical performance, they scatter. Running off in a variety of directions, all away from the road, and don’t seem to stop as far as he can see.

This strikes him as odd, but the results let him shrug his shoulders as he decides it’s at least saving him some ammo. Insects and many other creatures have extreme sensitivity to loud noises. Especially certain pitches and frequencies. He recalls an article from Scientific Equestria that there had been many experiments with sonic devices for use in pest control. Maybe this loud song the children are singing is just the right pitch to keep them away. Definitely helpful in Gearing’s opinion.

The first sign of anything else extremely weird doesn’t show up until a bit further down the road. Gearing keeps diving down and getting a better look around in buildings and windows, then zipping back up into the air. In one instance, he sees something moving around in a building further up the road from the foal convoy, but definitely right in their path. He flies around in a wide arc to get a better view, and ends up seeing several other individuals in the same area. All definitely ponies. All of which are set up behind various improvised barricades or hiding in rooms overlooking the road.

He checks them out through his scope, and can’t quite make out faces or any fine details. But their armor, if you want to call it that, is patchwork at best, and they all have some kind of weapon, most of them seem to be carrying melee weapons with only a few looking like they have some sort of pistol or rifle. He doesn’t want to just randomly kill ponies without cause. They could be folks just trying to make it out here that somehow found out there’s an approaching convoy, and are taking defensive positions just in case. But he’s not feeling too good about this situation the more he looks it over. They seem to be gathering and taking up positions to make a kill zone in the middle of the road.

It’s obviously some sort of ambush. But for whom, he can’t tell. And the area doesn’t look like any kind of settlement that he can think of. There’s nothing support wise to show it even attempting to be self sufficient. Not even sad little plants in pots for food, herbs, or spices. Not even flowers.

He makes another pass around the group as he tries to decide the best way to go about dealing with this. Negotiate, and abandon the element of surprise. Strike first, and risk being wrong about their intentions, even though he’s pretty sure he’s reading this right. Or should he simply direct the convoy around and avoid having to make a choice that could cost lives. The convoy’s still several minutes away so he’s got time to debate on the best course of action before alerting them.

But then, as if in answer to his dilemma, one of the unknown ponies breaks from cover, turns around, and starts running as fast as he can away from the road. That earth pony had been the one closest to the children and has apparently decided not to push his luck with this. Shortly after, another one breaks cover and runs, then another. In a wave that he can almost visualize as a storm front, the individuals apparently come within range of a fixed radius of the singing children, become completely discombobulated, causing them to turn tail and run in whatever direction seems to be the best for them at the time.

All done in pure terror. Some even dropping their weapons in the process. A few actually throw them away in an apparent attempt to surrender to whatever unseen force is harrying them.

Gearing thinks about his own situation not long ago, and how they had lured him in simply with their song. It would make sense, at least to somepony that believes in that sort of thing, that the song itself had some sort of enchantment that could actually repel people and creatures that might mean them harm. Or, possibly, it was just a universal repellent that kept them safe.

While he’s not sure if he’s out of range of the bubble of fear, or if he’s simply been granted immunity via targeted exclusion, he’s still wary of straying too close. Of the others that are still in the bubble, for sure, neither of them are reacting either. Sable’s indifferent status to the song makes perfect sense to Gearing, given her mechanical constitution and origins. But Nahlah, on the other hoof, is not only not fleeing like a proverbial scaredy-cat, but seems to be enjoying herself as she waves a paw around, bopping it in the air to the beat of the foals’ hooves. The song of doom and gloom seems to have no effect on her at all.

But from up here, it looks like everyone else, every threat, is running for the hills as fast as its legs will carry it.

Gearing nods and purses his lips tightly together before he says, “That… That would definitely work to keep them safe. I see what Andante was talking about now. Well… damn… looks like I’m not even needed...”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head starts hopping around and waving flags as it draws his attention to the area they are approaching, and the ponies that had been there just moments before. But still. The group that had been there… They were going to attack somepony, eventually, even if they weren’t able to attack the children this time.

Assuming that’s what they were going to do, Gearing mentally retorts.

It’s nagging at him and he just doesn’t feel right leaving this area without knowing for sure what the hell is going on. And then there’s the need to get everything done and back to the stable as soon as possible.

Not to mention his personal goal that really can’t be put on a backburner while he traipses all over Equestria.

He lets out a sigh as he hangs his head. As much as he’d prefer to go back with them. To ensure their safety. To be with Sable, and the foals in 68, he knows he just can’t justify it now. Resources are limited, and an unnecessary escort is just that: unnecessary. With the threat level to the convoy lowered to the point that he’s comfortably able to declare himself no longer necessary, he realizes he needs to reallocate resources to other problems. Other hotspots.

And, in this case, he is the resource that needs to be redirected to somewhere that actually needs his attention.

Having come to that realization, and not wanting any unnecessary delays, Gearing taps out a message to Sable as he mutters to himself, “Business before pleasure, Gearing… business before pleasure… can’t be selfish…”

[Sable, I’m going to peel off and go back to meet up with Handy and Swift. I don’t know what is up with their music, but it seems to be chasing off pretty much everything around you guys. So I don’t think anything will be able to get close enough to cause any problems, and me being up here could just draw trouble from a distance. Please keep an eye on them, and make sure they rest. I’m sure whatever spell that is has its limits. And they’re organic. They’re going to need to sleep. Make sure to hunker down somewhere safe for them to do so when needed. We don’t need that spell to fail at the worst possible moment because they collapse from exhaustion.]

[Understood, my love. I am more than happy to assist my darling Gearing. I will ensure their safe arrival to Stable 68.]

The quick response doesn’t surprise him at all. But he can’t help shaking his head at what was said.

[“Understood”? That’s it? You’re not going to try and argue with me about it?]

[It would be counter productive to do so. My darling Gearing is carrying a large portion of the trade goods to be exchanged for necessary supplies. Your presence IS required to make the necessary transactions. Your goal is to be the most efficient time –wise over all, for everyone, correct? You are making the decision based on the calculation that the sooner you get the transactions finished, the sooner everyone will arrive at Stable 68. My calculations have arrived at the same conclusion. So there is no point of contention.]

As Gearing is reading her response, he gets another, shorter, message from her.

[Unless you wish to remain with me, and are hoping I can convince you to abandon your logic based decision making in favor of more pleasurable pursuits? In which case, I am more than happy to oblige!]

Gearing’s eyes trail up from his PipBuck screen and look down at Sable, who’s already looking up at him with a tilt of her head and a grin across her muzzle. They lock eye contact for a few moments, even at extreme long distance, before she gives a distracting swish of her tail with a sway of her hips.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head looks at two large posters, one with Sable, with that familiar smirk across her muzzle, and the other is a collage of Handy, Swift, broken down equipment in Stable 68, fleeing unknown ponies, and mountains of salvage, along with several prewar tactical pictures of the Hoofington Core. He sits down and sheepishly taps his forehooves together as he mutters, Well, she’s not wrong…

Gearing shakes his head slowly as he lets out a sigh of resignation and reminds himself there will be plenty of time for frivolities later, when his tasks are finished. He confirms their route with Sable via his PipBuck, with everything he can remember about the transit system and the tunnels he was planning on using, along with some alternates.

After acknowledging receipt of his instructions, Sable replies in a way he wasn’t actually anticipating.

[Now that you are rid of us, are you going to tell me why you’re really hanging back up there?]

His eyes shoot wide for a moment, but then he smirks as he tilts his head and looks at his PipBuck screen. He glances down at Sable and notices that, despite them continuing on down the road, and a combination of her intuition and observant nature, she’s keeping her gaze forward and not looking up, and back, at him. Even so, she’s obviously aware of his relatively stationary positioning.

[The group that went running from the kids’ song has me worried. I think they’re bad news. Looked like they were set up to ambush anyone coming down the road. If they are, and I leave them here, someone else is going to suffer for it. And I just can’t let that happen.]

[Understood, my love. I’ll hurry us out of your operating area so you may act freely without concern for us. Stay safe, and I’ll see you soon.]

[Thank you, stay safe.]

[If you really wish to thank me, you may do so with prompt payment of your BILL once you arrive at Stable 68… Which is going to be increasing at an even faster rate since you’ve opted to split off now, and I will be deprived of your company for the entire way there.]

Gearing chuckles as he hovers in the air and watches them continue on down their path as he cues up commands on his PipBuck with the broadcaster mod attached. He confirms the command and the acknowledgement flashes across his vision, along with its string of responses.

Burst transmission cycling.

‘Update-Point-Convoy’ sent.

Transmission successfully completed.

Response failure. Reason: Timed out.

Delivery status: Unknown/ Unconfirmed

“And, because I’m not an idiot… time to move…” Gearing mutters as he looks around.

After the kids are pretty much out of sight he goes after an earth pony that had turned tail and ran through some rubble off to the west of the road. He cuts altitude and zips off after them in a straight line, figuring they would have gone as straight as possible instead of trying to zigzag given the level of panic they seemed to have been acting under.

Following a trail of freshly disturbed debris and hoofprints, he lands on top of the roof of a one floor building and looks down through the decaying holes into the lower levels where he finds an earth pony cowering in a corner.

The exceedingly dirty stallion is still shaking all over, with his hair standing on end and frazzled out in every conceivable direction, as he’s punching the painted brick wall with a pair of spiked shoes. He rants with a trembling voice that doesn’t pair well with its deep tones, “What the hell was that! I- I’m shaking everywhere! Get it together, Knuckles… This is bullshit! It was just a couple of kids and their packbot! Why couldn’t you move, you pussy ass motherfucker!? There’s going to be no living this down! Just wait till I see them again, I’m going to rip their limbs off, and leave their heads on last, just so I can hear them scream while I fuck them to death! Nopony does this to me. Nopony!” He punches the wall a few more times as his spittle gets flung around from the force of his flailing about.

“Thanks for that!” Gearing’s voice greets him cheerfully.

Knuckles spins around to find Gearing perched in the window, with his rifle pointed right at the stallion as he’s huddled in the corner with nowhere to go. His eyes slowly grow in width with yet another wave of terror running laps up and down his spine. But, this one, at least to his mind, has a much more understandable source to it.

The large bore of Gearing’s semi-automatic rifle pointed right at him.

Gearing shrugs and continues, “I was trying to figure your game out and, well, my conscience just wouldn’t let me drop it… so thanks for the help!” He ends the conversation, and adds a punctuating note to his statement, by putting two rounds into the stallion’s head with a quick double tap of the trigger. One causing catastrophic damage by separating the left side of Knuckle’s jaw, making it fly back and barely hang on by a thin thread of flesh. As catastrophic as it was, it would have been a survivable wound. The second round fixes that oversight soundly. The other round sails through the stallion’s muzzle, blowing out the back of his mouth, and head, with parts of the bones that make up his spine splattering in a weird piece of modern art against the wall behind himself.

As Knuckles’ corpse slowly sinks down to the floor, Gearing’s eyes narrow on it as his grin actually grows a tad. “A gang of murderous foal rapists, huh? That’s okay, I got an app for that…” Many bars appear across his vision as he activates his EFS and the HUD that he so rarely uses springs to life before him and begins telling him exactly where he should go next.

Footnote: Calculating Mass Augmentation thresholds, please stand by. . .

Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 12%

Gravity Differential alignment at 25%

48 Flights of Fancy

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the middle of the kitchen of their humble cloud home, Gearing sits with his head hanging back and to the side as he hears the mobile voice of his mother as she stomps through the house and berates him.

“You know how dangerous it is out there. For everypony in general. And especially for us! How could you just take off like that for so long without telling me!?”

Gearing rolls his head around and flops it over to rest on the table, made of cloud like pretty much everything else around him, as he replies evenly, “I had to go for the admission tests. I keep telling you that…”

“Uh huh… for Stable-Tec University, huh?” comes her voice from another room as she’s apparently walking around him by going from adjacent room to adjacent room.

“That’s what I saaaaid,” Gearing replies with an annoyed voice as he rolls his eyes. “That’s how University works… You have to take tests as part of the selection process.”

“And why didn’t I hear about it before you traipsed off in the middle of the night?” she asks from the room to his right.

Gearing rolls his head back and forth on the fluffy table as he says in an annoyed groaning voice, “Because the tests were early in the morning, it was a long way to go, and I didn’t need my mother embarrassing the hell out of me by chasing after all the young jocks exercising out in the track and field.”

“Ohhh I’m not that bad! It isn’t even that time of the year yet, you’d know that if you’d actually bother to-“

“MOM!” Gearing yells as he lifts his head and looks out of the kitchen into the room to his left. “I don’t wanna hear about that ceremony junk! I’m talking about school here. You know, stuff that ACTUALLY matters!”

A silver clockwork pegasus walks in through the door on the left as she regards him. Her golden mane made of many filaments glitters in the light, and matches her eyes, as she strolls right up to Gearing and looks down at him while he keeps his position at the table in the middle of the rarely used kitchen. She ruffles her wings in irritation, sending out sparkles of silvery white and pale yellow in a variety of directions before she says, “The ceremony is important, Gearing. I know you’re not all that interested in it now, but trust me…” She reaches over and ruffles his mane with her silvery wing as she practically giggles, “Once you get that stick out of your ass, and you drop those brass balls, you’ll be thinking entirely differently!”

Gearing lets out a groan and covers his face with his forehooves as he says, “See… it’s things like this that made me decide not to tell you until I knew for sure.” He looks up at her and frowns. “You’re always so damn embarrassing.”

She smiles at him and trails her caressing touch down to his shoulder where she gives him a loving pat. “You’ll understand better when you’re older… I promise.” She smirks at him as she shakes her head. “However, if you’ve already figured that part of life out… you know you don’t have to lie to me about running off to spend time with some filly right? No reason to come up with such ridiculous stuff.” She grins at him as she asks, “So when do I get to meet your little marefriend?”

The house chimes with the sound of the doorbell ringing and Gearing springs up, kicking his legs in midair as he squeals with delight, “Saved by the bell!” He starts bounding towards the front door as he yells, “I’ll get it, it’s probably more books for me anyway!”

“Yeah, yeah…” His mother waves a hoof dismissively as she starts rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, and pulling out a variety of fabric from where food stuffs would normally be found.

Gearing throws open the front door, and looks up at a gray pegasus delivery pony. They trail their eyes down to look at him, and the pair stare at each other for a few moments as they try to process exactly what to say.

Gearing, feeling a series of familiar and insulting questions coming on, narrows his eyes and asks sharply, “You got a package for us or you just darkening our clouds for some other reason?”

They shake their head, and look around at the nearly barren undeveloped section of cloud before he asks, “Umm, I have a certified delivery from Stable-Tec University…” He holds up a large envelope with one hoof as he looks at the clipboard in his wing. “For one… Gearing Greenwing?”

Gearing’s scowl slowly morphs into a smirk as he nods. “Yeah… I’m Gearing.” He waves his crystalline green wing at him as he chuckles. “I’ll sign for it… but, hold on a second…”

As the buck is trying to give Gearing the clipboard to sign, Gearing turns around and yells, “Mooooooom! It’s for yoouuuuu!”

His mother trots over quickly and peeks out at the grey buck on their doorstep as she asks, “What in the world?”

Gearing nods towards her as he grabs the clipboard and starts signing. “Hand it to her to open.” He looks up at them and grins as he asks, “Wanna see something funny?” They raise an eyebrow in response so Gearing nods towards his mom as he says, “Just wait a minute, this is gonna be good.” He hands the signed clipboard back and sits down primly as he looks up at his mother while she examines the oversized envelope.

She looks at him and waves the envelope as she looks back and forth. “This is addressed to you, not me.”

Gearing waves a forehoof towards her as he nods a solid single affirmative. “Oh, I know… open it… It’s more for you anyway.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks back and forth between the delivery buck and Gearing before using a wing tip and deftly slicing the envelope open. She pulls out the stack of papers and marketing material, and rummages through it a bit before she returns to the cover letter sitting on top. Her eyes continue to grow in size the further down she gets, and her lips start moving along as she’s reading, until she’s actually verbalizing and reading aloud what’s written.

“… and with the new semester starting soon, please find enclosed your orientation packet and pre-orientation to-do list. We look forward to seeing you soon. Once again, congratulations on your acceptance and welcome to Stable-Tec University!” she finishes with a near scream as her eyes bug out. She quickly rereads it over before she looks up at the buck that’d delivered it and asks, “Is… is this for real?”

The delivery pony shrugs and looks at the clipboard. “Well, given the lengths they’ve gone to confirm timely delivery, I’d think so.”

She slowly lowers the papers as she asks, in rapid succession as quickly as they pop into her head, “How? How’s this possible? How’d you get in? How are we even going to afford this?! How’d they even find out about you?”

Gearing raises a hoof to stop her, then leans up and closes her mouth for her with the same hoof before he says with a smirk, “I’m getting in on a scholarship.” He bobs his head around. “A combination of scholarship, and work study. I’ll be proving my worth while working off the course fees. All while learning. On the job training at it’s best. I’ve already proven how good I am, and how much I already know, and they’re interested in seeing what I can do.

He waves a hoof dismissively as he says, “And as far as how I actually got in, I heard about the tryouts through a few publications… and once there it was just a matter of crushing the tests, which I did…”

She looks back and forth with just her eyes before she asks softly, “So my baby’s really going to Stable-Tec U? So early?”

Gearing gives her a rather smug grin as he blows on his hoof, and proceeds to casually rub it on his chest. As he’s giving his hoof an unnecessary polish he says, “Face it, mom… Your son? He’s a genius…” He shrugs. “Your ‘baby’ is a genius and, just like you told me to do…” He steps out onto the porch, and spreads his wings, bending and focusing the late morning unfiltered direct sunlight onto himself, causing himself to shine and glow with a blinding light that makes the poor gray delivery buck step back and shield his own eyes with a wing as Gearing bellows, “I’m gonna outshine them all!” He pumps his forehooves in the air as he screams, “My future’s so bright, the rest of ya gonna need shades!”

His mother tosses the papers to the side in the house, haphazardly on a desk nearby, and leaps out the door towards him. She scoops him up with both her forelegs and wings as she nuzzles him and spins around quickly. “Ohhhhh I’m so proud of you!” She jumps and hops around on her hind legs as she looks over at the grey stallion. “You see this? You see him? My little baby’s a genius and he’s already gotten into Stable-Tec University! He’s gonna be all big and famous and I’m his MOMMA!” She swings around and shakes her flank at the delivery buck, showing off her mark of a mare cradling a bundled foal and gently nuzzling it.

The delivery buck smirks, but can’t help but noticing and giving a slight nod as he can see the correlation. A moment later she shakes her flanks a bit more and shimmies her shoulders. He looks up at her eyes while she’s giving him a coy grin as she says softly, “Well, aren’t you staring a bit longer than necessary…”

His eyes bug out and he starts stammering. She reaches over and puts a hoof to his lips as she giggles, “That’s okay… I don’t mind…”

Gearing pulls away from his mother’s grasp enough to look at the delivery buck and yell at him with his eyes open to their widest, “Fly, you fool, FLY! Save yourself while you can!”

The delivery buck stumbles backwards, turns, and jumps away, quickly diving down through the cloud just passed their porch and disappearing.

His mother frowns and lets out a sigh. “Awww… you spoil sport, he looked like he could be fun.”

Gearing goes limp as he hangs there in the grip of her forelegs. “Mom… you’re so embarrassing.”

She giggles and tosses him up in the air, before she turns around and trots back into the house as she says, “It’s a mother’s prerogative to embarrass their children… And now I gotta go through this paperwork and see what we need to buy to get ready for you to go!”

Gearing flips and fans out his wings as he glides around under his own power after she tossed him in the air and then slowly hovers up towards the roof of the house as he yells down at her, “Most of that’s taken care of, I just need to show up on time.”

“Well, I wanna read it all anyway! It’s not every day a mare’s baby gets into university so young!”

“Have fun with that!” Gearing yells in through a window before flying up and landing on the peak of the house. He stretches out along the crest of the cloud roof and smiles as he looks in the direction of Cloudsdale in the distance. After giggling incessantly for a few minutes he sits straight up and gives a salute in the direction of the ministry hub where he’s supposed to report to soon. As he’s breaking the salute he says quietly, “It’s time to be awesome!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Having to worry about nopony but themselves, Swift and Handy made great time on the way to Megamart despite their respective loads. They could have made it the whole way before dawn, but they didn’t dare risk it. From a barely standing two story office building, on the other side of the highway and a distance away, they could make out a small army in front of the large square building. Even in the dark, and from this distance, they can make out all of the shapes moving about. Some mingling, others moving on to the roads in one direction or another along the respective highways. Traffic towards the Manehatten direction seems particularly heavy.

Given this is their first time here, and the number of unknown ponies between them and Megamart, they opted to stay in the office building until dawn so they can see who’s really out there. After all, if Megamart is currently under siege by that many raiders they would really not want to walk into the middle of that.

That was the argument that Handy had made anyway, as he pointed at an old calendar, two hundred years out of date, that, judging by the pile spilling out of a torn cardboard shipping box, doubled as advertisement for Tally’s Accounting Services, and joked that he’s sure Tally wouldn’t mind them resting there for a bit. But, given the long trip already, and the loads they were carrying, Swift had agreed.

What neither of them counted on was members of those unknown shambling masses around Megamart to not only find them, but take enough interest in them that they woke up in the corner of one of the offices at the cusp of dawn surrounded by a variety of firearms, all pointed at them.

Pistols. Hunting rifles. SMGs. Varmint rifles. Shotguns of various gauges, one of which looks like an early blunderbuss model. All politely give them their undivided attention with their ends pointed right at the pair. Some on battle saddles, others wielded individually.

Although, the stalemate seems to be just as tense for the nearly dozen ponies as it does for Swift and Handy, even though they have the unquestionable advantage with numbers, weaponry, and positioning.

Even among themselves, as they argue about what they should do with them.

“She’s traveling with a pegasus mare and a blue earth pony buck, right? That’s what they said, right?” a terracotta unicorn mare, with a varmint rifle held above her head in her magic’s glow, pointed right at Handy, demands of her cohorts.

“So they’ve said,” agrees a gray earth pony mare with a battle saddle, sporting duel hunting rifles, pointed at Swift. “But there’s been a lot of talk too.”

“The bounty’s for the PipBuck, and they’ve both got PipBucks!” retorts the terracotta mare. “This can’t just be a coincidence, she’s gotta be around here somewhere!”

“Well if she’s not here, she’s obviously gone. I wouldn’t have expected to find her this close to the mart if she’d made it out anyway. The bounty’s for her and her PipBuck, not her friends,” a pink stallion with a yellow mane says casually as he sways and motions with the end of his battle saddle’s barrels towards Megamart.

“If we got the drop on them, maybe she’ll come back for them when they don’t show up wherever she was supposed to meet them at? Or we could just hold onto them until she shows her face?” the terracotta mare suggests.

“Well, shoot, they got PipBucks, how about we just take one of them back and say we got her? One PipBuck’s as good as the next, ain’t it?” a green earth pony buck holding a double barrel shotgun towards Swift comments.

The pink stallion shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Clay, that’s basically kidnapping and that can lead us down a road I really don’t want to tread on. Especially if they aren’t her friends. If they’re just innocent traders that was just taking a break before moving on, we’re not only wasting our time but theirs.” He shoots a scathing look at the green buck and adds, “And you, hay for brains, they want her because she’s pissed off Deus… And for that PipBuck. I bet you bits to bacon that it’s either a special PipBuck, or got something on it that they want… and if you try to pull that shit with a fake you’ll end up in pieces decorating the fence around Paradise.”

“Well, what were they doing sneaking around here in the middle of the night then!? If they were just going to trade with the Finders, they could have just walked right in. But they stayed here and spied on everyone from the second floor. They’re up to something!” the terracotta mare retorts as she looks at the pink stallion.

“We’ve traveled a long way, and decided to stay in here until morning when we saw the crowd outside. We didn’t know what was going on and didn’t want to end up in the middle of whatever it was,” Swift says as her eyes jump from barrel to barrel and pony to pony as she continuously sizes them all up and tries to figure out what to do.

“We weren’t sure if the group outside was raiders or what. So we were going to park it until we could see better and find out for ourselves… And given that you’re running around trying to kidnap and rob any ponies you find, seems we were right to be suspicious of the whole lot of you…” Handy adds sourly.

The terracotta mare glares over at him and scowls, obviously not liking the comparison, but, not having much else to say in her defense, snaps, “Oooooh, who asked you!?”

The pink stallion nods his chin over towards Handy as he looks at the terracotta mare and smirks. “You did, Clay. Buck’s gotta point…”

A loud metallic crunch, followed by glass breaking, as a metal storage box is buckled in and nearly flattened, with its contents smashed and shattering in the process, abruptly stops the conversation.

“There you guys are!” Gearing says cheerfully as he takes his forehoof off of the box and continues walking forward as if he didn’t even notice the catastrophic damage he’d just unleashed. “Thanks for waiting for me, but you guys could have went inside ya know?” He continues forward towards Swift as he looks around at the semi circle of armed ponies that are hedging Handy and Swift in. “Or is this some kind of staging ground before going in?” He leans towards the green buck as he’s getting even closer. “Sorry, I’m new to this whole area.” He looks over at the pink stallion and shakes his head. “I’ve had one long hellish night, I’ll tell ya that. I’m looking forward to offloading some of this crap.”

To drive his point home, he tilts to the side and drops the massive bundle from his back to the side next to him. Despite being carefully bound up, it sounds like a miniature avalanche as if an entire collection of shelves have been knocked over in an earthquake. And, just as noticeable, is the micro earth vibration that travels across the floor to everyone’s hooves, causing some dust and debris to fall down from the ceiling over head.

The bundle that he had been carrying looks like someone had taken a patchwork tent, made from whatever fabric they could find, then filled it up with enough random salvage that it would nearly bury a Brahmin. But that was just what was held on his back. On top of everything else. His cloak covers him entirely as he looks around from the cover of his cowl. But, under the cloak, it’s easy to see his other bags as they are still bulging out at the sides with their own burdens. And more than a couple weapons poke out and make their presence known as he casually flops down on his haunches and looks over at Swift.

“What the fuck are you doing here? The bounty’s ours, fuck off!” Clay says as she spins her rifle around and points it at Gearing’s head.

Gearing waves it away dismissively as he tilts his head in a different direction, blatantly giving her the broad side of his head, as he says, “That bounty nonsense? I don’t see why anyone would want to mess with that, it’s just a scam, I’m sure.” He points his hoof over toward Handy and adds, “I’m with them. We’re picking up some supplies… hopefully they have what we need.” He turns his head, and leans towards the terracotta mare a bit, pressing his cowl covered forehead against the end of the barrel as he keeps his face hidden and asks with a bit of annoyance in his voice, “Why, what’s it to you? We’re not cutting in line are we?”

“Gearing, I’m begging you here. I know you’re a master of getting under people’s skin, but this is not the time for that. I don’t wanna get shot today,” Handy comments with his eyes wide and a near whine in his voice as he stares flabbergasted at Gearing.

Swift smirks and adds, “Yeaaaah, might want to hold onto the ego a bit there, Gearing.”

Gearing waves a hoof towards the terracotta mare as he says, “All I did was ask a simple question…”

The pink stallion’s eyes trail over Gearing’s form, and a glint of gold catches his eye as he watches Gearing sling a rifle over his shoulder and practically ignore the terracotta mare’s threatening motions.

Clay pushes the barrel against Gearing’s forehead more, or tries to anyway, but it doesn’t go any further after a certain point. “Can you even see me? Do you even realize I have a gun pointed at your head?”

“You’re point?” Gearing asks flatly as he turns his head to look at her, and actually forces the rifle backwards as it was pressed to his head and her field isn’t strong enough to keep it in position.

“Gearing… come on…” Handy groans as he slaps a hoof over his face.

The pink stallion nods towards Gearing and asks, “Oh great… that your rifle?”

Gearing looks over and him and replies flatly, “Well, it ain’t Luna’s…”

He brushes his yellow mane back as he takes a long look at Gearing. “Ugh, yeah, it’s one of them…” He catches eye contact with the terracotta mare before he says evenly, “Look, Clay, don’t push it. I’d really rather not have a whole gang after us.” With a nod of his head towards Swift he asks Gearing, “You know these two?”

Gearing gives a slight nod. “Have for a few weeks.” He points a hoof over to Swift and says, “That’s the Reaper, Iron Hoof Swift. She won her place in the Reapers at the Freight Car’s Gauntlet. The killjoy buck next to her is her husband, Handy Hooves. They’re on the way to the arena after we do some trading at Megamart and offload some shit.” He waves vaguely in the direction where he’s sure the big pre-war dome still stands.

The green buck’s eyes bug out as he yells, “Reaper!?”

Gearing gives a slight nod again. “Yeah… speaking of which…” He looks over at Swift. “I think I get the jist of the situation… and, really, from the bottom of my heart,” he puts a hoof to his chest and gives a slight bow, “thanks for not just killing all of them… seriously.” He looks over at the pink stallion and pats on the large bundle that’d caused a micro earthquake not too long ago. “I’m already carrying so much shit already. I really don’t want to deal with any more. So please don’t piss her off… she has a habit of making brain omelets when she’s annoyed.”

Swift gives a slight smirk, tilts her head and demurely puts a hoof to her chest as she closes her eyes and says softly, “I prefer the term jam.”

Gearing snorts and replies, “Why, because you like ‘jamming’ their head through a solid brick wall?”

She opens an eye and looks at him as her smirk gets just a bit bigger, “Oh, like you’re the one to talk. At least I stop once I’m through their head.” She waves a hoof at him weakly. “You put your hoof through that train car too; I’m surprised they didn’t make you pay for repairs.”

The nearly dozen ponies shift about nervously as they look back and forth between them. A pair closer to the side door actually back away slowly a few steps as Gearing looks at the pink stallion and comments, “To be fair, given how hard headed he was I’d thought it’d take a bit more oomph, so she’s not wrong.”

The pink stallion looks over at Clay and shakes his head as he steps sideways, putting a bit of distance between him, Swift, and Gearing. “Clay, I’m not getting into this. Reapers? Gangers? That’s way too much to handle.”

The terracotta mare shakes her head. “They’re bluffing! I’ve never heard of an ‘Iron Hoof’ Swift Reaper!” She looks over at the pink stallion and repeats, “It can’t be a coincidence that a pegasus mare and a blue buck, this close to Megamart, have PipBucks.” She glares over at Gearing as she grumbles, “I’m not leaving here empty hoofed.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m a pegasus with a PipBuck too, so there’s two sitting right in front of you.” Gearing lifts his left wing just a bit, enough to make the cloak slide over and make his wing known as he waves it at her from under the cloak but takes care he doesn’t move the cloak too much and end up revealing his body. Then he folds it back and does the same with the other side. He waves a hoof at her as he says, “And if you’re after that bounty… it’s on a unicorn… not a pegasus or earth pony… and the only horn heads around here are in your group.” He points a hoof at the terracotta mare as he finishes with a scathing tone.

He leans towards her as his tone takes on a flat and nearly uninterested vibe to it. But, given the situation, it practically makes everyone’s mane crawl. Even Swift’s and Handy’s. “And before you try anything stupid, the last time someone tried to steal a PipBuck from me, it didn’t end well for them.”

“Uh… G- Gearing… remember what I’d asked earlier? Please?” Handy asks politely with a nervous chuckle as he looks around quickly.

Swift grins widely, and pounds her powerhoof into the ground. “Just say when, Gearing.”

The green buck steadily backs away, even pointing his shotgun in a decidedly different direction, as he says, “Clay, we really oughta think this over.”

The terracotta mare shakes her head as she steps closer to Gearing. “It’s a fucking bluff, I can’t believe you guys are falling for this.” She glares at Gearing. “And you, Mister Mysterious Pony wanna be, acting all big and tough, I’m tired of your vague threats from behind the cover of your cloak!” She uses the tip of the rifle and lifts the cowl as she gets closer to stare at him in the actual eyes. “Let’s see how brave you are when you’re revealed in the harsh light of da- Sweet Celestia, what the fuck is up with your face?!” She screeches and jumps back and away from him as the cowl falls back down, having only lifted it up enough to catch eye contact and see just a peek of his left profile.

“But- wha- What’s going on?!” she asks as she steps back flabbergasted and staring at the cowl before she starts looking at the others with her hoof waving frantically at Gearing.

Swift looks at her, then at Gearing, before her posture softens as she asks with a sigh, “Gearing, did you get another office complex dropped on your head?”

Handy looks him over as he asks, “That why you’re not flying? Need to get patched up again?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. Haven’t had that happen since the day before yesterday.”

The terracotta mare asks with a shaky voice, “He had a building dropped on his head the other day, and he’s still walking around?”

Handy nods as he points at him with a hoof. “He’s got one hell of a hard head, I’ll tell ya.”

Gearing rolls his head on his shoulder, giving a great indication of the massive eye roll he’s unleashing behind the cowl, as he says, “It wasn’t the whole building, just the eleventh floor-“

“Well, half of it anyway,” Handy and Swift chime in and repeat simultaneously in harmony with Gearing.

Gearing looks over at Swift and asks, “So you figure out when Megamart opens yet?”

“Nope, haven’t gotten that far,” Swift replies.

“You want to head over there now?” Gearing asks.

“Hey,” the terracotta mare says weakly.

“Sure, let me get dressed and pack up our stuff and I’ll be ready to go,” Swift says with a smile.

“…heeeey,” the terracotta mare says again as she waves a hoof at Swift.

Gearing nods as he looks down at the giant tent turned saddle bag laying next to him. “Yeah, it’s going to take me a minute to get this stacked properly and back on my back again. So no rush.”

“Hey!” the terracotta mare finally screams as she waves a forehoof and her rifle around randomly. “I’m still here, you know!”

Gearing looks over at her and nods. “Oh. Yes. You… how rude of me… sorry.” He waves a hoof dismissively in her direction, shooing her away, and says with the same condescending tone of a Canterlot noble, “You may go now.”

“Hang on a second here, what the hell just happened?!” she asks as she looks around at the others that have made a good show of moving back and carefully getting in position to quickly leave out of the various doors.

She jumps and spins her rifle around, pointing it right in the face of the pink stallion as he rests his forehoof on her shoulder. “Come on, Clay. It’s over. These aren’t the folks we’re after… we’ve already wasted enough of everypony’s time and…” he looks over at Gearing and notices that Gearing is paying careful attention to him, with his head tilted just enough to glare out at them from the darkness of his cowl. “And we don’t want their kind of trouble anyway.”

She looks at him and shakes her head as she stutters, “We… we need that money! I can’t just give up, not when we’re this close! No! I won’t let us fail like this!” She spins around with her rifle and points it back at Gearing’s head.

A bunch of guns spin around as many voices shout out simultaneously.

“Whoa!”

“Hey!”

“The hell!?”

“Stop!”

The terracotta mare crosses her eyes and looks up as she sees the end of a barrel pointed right at her head. Close enough that it’s disappeared in the bangs of her mane over her eyes. She looks down the length into Gearings eyes as he’d whipped out the rifle and pointed it at her with such speed that the little golden charm of a broken heart continues swaying in front of her eyes. She has her own gun pointed at, and pressing into, the area of Gearing’s temple as she stutters, “I… I have a gun to your head.”

“Your point?” Gearing asks flatly.

“I’ll do it!” she insists, though her knees begin visibly shaking as the rifle barrel end at her brow hasn’t wavered a millimeter.

“You’ll try. But, if you succeed, we’ll just go together… I’ll let you choose.” Gearing replies as he stares at her from under his cowl that’s been lifted just enough to look her in the eyes.

She stares into the slight reflections of light visible under the cowl, like glinting stars looking back at her as she says weakly, “I... I mean it.”

“Me too.”

The pink stallion gently reaches over and starts pushing the end of the barrel of the rifle up and away from Gearing’s head, very slowly and with Gearing not visibly reacting in the slightest, as he says, “Easy there, Clay. When it comes to death games, those Halfhearts never bluff.”

She looks at him and says quietly with a choke, “I can’t fail, Taf…”

“We all fail, eventually,” Gearing murmurs and draws a look from both Swift and Clay.

Clay closes her eyes and the glow encompassing her rifle dissipates as the pink stallion grabs it with his fetlock and pulls it away. Gearing casually pulls his rifle back and rests against it with the stock on the ground as the pink stallion guides Clay around and out of the room.

After they cross the threshold, and being the last holdouts of their group, Gearing looks at Swift and Handy as he comments, “I knew it… That bounty’s got a bunch of trigger happy dumb asses swarming all over the whole place. This isn’t going to end well for a lot of ponies.”

Handy shakes his head and looks Gearing over as he asks with a raised eyebrow, and slightly raised tone of voice, “I thought you were going to watch them get to the stable? Why are you here?!”

Gearing exchanges glances with Swift, who slaps a hoof over her eyes and groans, before he replies evenly, “Handy, they didn’t need my help… Whatever song they used on me? Yeah… Well, they got another one. And apparently it makes everyone and everything run from them in terror just being able to hear it… Creature or pony… radroaches… raiders… doesn’t matter. They all run for the hills in as quick and straight of a line as they possibly can.”

Swift pauses getting her saddle bags on as she looks at Gearing. “Raiders? You saw raiders on the road?”

Gearing nods and tilts his head back to allow his grinning muzzle to poke out from under the cowl at her. “Yup!” He starts rummaging through his saddle bag under his cloak. “Anyone hungry? I got Sugar Apple Bombs, some cans of corn… A few of these cans I don’t know what’s in them since the label’s gone, but they still slosh around, and not distended, so they should still be good to eat.” He holds a label-less can up and gives it a shake as he grins. “Just think of it as a chow mystery grab bag!”

He starts pulling out and piling up various items from his saddle bag and Handy eventually waves a hoof to get his attention as he asks, “Why are you bringing all this out? I thought you don’t even eat? Why’d you bring it with you?”

Gearing looks up at him and tilts his head as he pauses fiddling with his bag. “I… didn’t… the raiders had it.” There’s a long pause of silence between them as they stare at each other in mutual confusion.

Tick. Tick. CLICK.

Gearing’s ears perk up, the action noticeable even under the cowl, before he continues, “Oh! You mean you thought…?” He starts giggling. “You’d think I’d actually let ponies like that live?!” He waves a hoof at him weakly. “Oh, you are funny, aren’t you?” He starts stacking up the cans in front of himself as he looks them over while he’s trying to keep it all organized the best he can. “Nope. They’re radroach food.” He raises his head up from staring at the cans and catches Handy’s deep stare before he lays his ears back and grumbles, “Do not tell me you expect me to go back and bury those pieces of trash?” He shakes his head violently. “I’m not doing it.”

The silence returns as Handy’s trying to process the situation and Gearing’s awaiting some kind of reply. After nothing starts filling the air for a while, Gearing volunteers, “What? You guys weren’t even expecting me back for a while yet, so I decided to get rid of a problem I found along the way before someone else became their next victims…” He looks over at Handy and asks with a deep frown, and rather quietly, “Or should I have asked for permission about this too?”

Handy is about to say something, practically out of reflex, but clamps his mouth shut for a moment, then sighs and says, “No. Raiders are always a problem. Good job on taking them out. Glad to have you back.” He gives Gearing a gentle pat on the shoulder and walks off to check out a pile of debris on the other side of the room.

Gearing watches Handy closely, especially his hoof, both of them actually, as Handy taps him on the shoulder. After Handy’s withdrawn he pushes the cowl back, and clear of his face, as he looks at Handy with a raised eyebrow. The action distorting the golden spiderweb-like pattern covering the left side of his face and ear. Though the cracks in his dark facade seem to be getting bigger since the last time Swift saw them, with the lines spreading further, and other parts seem to be lightening up as if they’ve been exposed to a lot of wear and friction.

Swift leans towards him and offers quietly, “I’ve asked him to try and remember you’re a person, not some machine to be ordered around.”

Gearing glances at her sideways, then nods. He looks over at Handy and yells, “Hey, Handy!” Handy turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow in return. Gearing tosses him a can and grins as he arcs it. “Peaches. Only can they had. Enjoy!”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he zips back and forth as he gets under the can and catches it in a cradling action. After grabbing it and rubbing a bit of grime from the torn label his eyes somehow get even wider. “I love peaches!” He looks up at Gearing with a near twinkle in his eye as he yells, “Thanks, Gearing!”

Gearing nods his head as he grins and continues going about sorting the other supplies. He holds up an elongated can as he says, “I’ll save these sardines for Nahlah, I don’t know anyone else that’d enjoy them more… and given what she’s been through lately she deserves something nice.”

Swift grins at him and nods towards it as she says, “Better be careful with those surprise gifts, Sable might start thinking something’s up.”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he starts fiddling in his bag again. “Sable knows I’m not going to run around on her. Not interested in that.”

Swift leans over and whispers at him conspiratorially, “You? Maybe not… Nahlah might just love the excuse though.”

Handy lets out a loud groan as he’s opening up the can at his hooves. He shakes his head as he grabs the can and wanders off up the stairs to enjoy the rare snack while getting a day lit look at what’s actually between them and Megamart: a perfect place for him to be away from wherever this ridiculous conversation is heading.

Gearing’s ears jump up and his eyes go wide as he actually thinks that line of thought through. He looks over at her and sees her scrunching her mouth up and trying not to laugh before he lowers his ears and asks, “You’re just fucking with me?”

Swift snickers and waves a hoof at him. “No, that’s Sable’s area of expertise… I’m just messing with you.” She snickers again, even louder at his eye rolling response, and then asks as she watches him carefully pull a package out of the edge of his saddle bag. “What ya got there?”

Gearing shrugs and starts carefully moving around a few wires that are trailing around the edge of it. “A shaped charge. I had it primed to go off away from me incase they proved to be unreasonable.”

Her eyes go wide as she asks in a loud whisper. “You had an explosive in your bag and were going to blow yourself up if they started fighting?!”

Gearing shakes his head. “No… I had two.” He pulls an identical one out of his other side’s bag and carefully resets it before laying it on the ground. “And I wouldn’t have blown up. The blasts would have been focused outwards… along my sides, with me in the middle.” He looks at her and sees the horror on her face. “Typically a pony would have their insides pretty much liquefied being this close to the detonation, even with the actual blast being directed away. Concussive force alone can be lethal.” He waves a hoof around nonchalantly. “Equal and opposite reaction and all that… especially with one on each side… But,” He raises a wingtip for emphasis as he smirks, “I don’t have any squishy vitals… Don’t get me wrong, it’d hurt like hell, but all of the shrapnel would have effectively killed anyone in a cone roughly eighty degrees wide within twenty meters. But, potentially lethal out to one hundred meters… Being inside of a building would have limited any possible collateral damage to ricochets bouncing back and hitting one of us. So the risks were minimal.” They stare at each other for a few moments in silence before he says, “That’s why I kept my front facing you, and stood in the middle of them…”

She looks him over, and then down at the explosives at their hooves as she asks, “Why would you do something like that? Be willing to kill so many so readily?”

Gearing shakes his head. “It was just a contingency plan. I really hoped, and am happy beyond belief, that I didn’t have to do it… But greed has cost millions of lives already. My goal was to convince them to move on… but I had to be ready incase their greed got the better of them.” He shakes his head. “The lives of ten greedy ponies, who were so blinded by gold lust that they’d intentionally kill uninvolved parties… verses two uninvolved parties… the math was pretty clear… and that was before adding in I actually knew the two involved.”

Yeah, greedy fucks aren’t worth the lead it takes to drop them, like this bitch right here, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he flutters and flies around a comically fat yellow mare in Gearing’s headspace. The mental image Gearing has of Charity warps and moves around as he tries to picture exactly who this foal exploiting loan shark is. Being absurdly fat may make sense, but probably isn’t as likely. Her gut zips in and out rapidly as it goes from so big that it drags on the ground, to up to normal nearly fit sized. But, the shrink in gut accompanies a few facial scars as the face morphs from one raider or bandit he’s recently met to another. Because maybe she’s of the ‘might makes right’ mentality, and, like No-Shoes, will learn sooner than later what happens when Gearing finds out someone’s a threat to foals.

The mental image of her shifts to being decorated in a variety of gems and jewels, that continues growing in number comically until there would be no way she’d be able to still stand under so much gold if it were true. Then all of the jewelry disappears as the necklaces and adornments take on the shapes of literal gold bits.

That’s not right either… here…, the little blue pegasus offers before flying over and jack-slapping the mental image of Charity with a hoof repeatedly at high speed, sending gold and jewels flying in every which way before he steps back. All of the jewelry has switched to being made of bottle caps. Connected in such a way that she looks like she’s wearing an armor suit or cap dress. Don’t forget they’re using this trash as money now…

The little blue pegasus hops around with a giant grin as it blurts out an idea, Hey! Let’s go find one of the bottling plants… if we find one of the stamping machines, we can just stamp out a few thousand… or hundred thousand of the Sparkle Cola caps… Then we can CRUSH THE BITCH with her own avarice! He lifts his hooves high in the world, grabbing a giant metal crate that says ‘Sparkle Cola’ on the side before slamming it down on top of the image of Charity, causing a giant yellow explosion to splat out under it like a packet of mustard that’s been stepped on. Would serve her right!

It’s not a bad idea, would be an amusing poetic justice, but there’s no time for all of that. Not with everything else that needs to be done… Business before pleasure…

The little blue pegasus in his head gives a snap and folds its forelegs grumpily as he mutters, Ahh nuts…

Don’t worry, she’ll die…

She better after what she’s done…

In the real world, outside of his own headspace, Gearing takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh before he smiles at Swift with a warm, beaming, toothy grin. “I’m glad I could convince them to do the right thing without anypony getting hurt.”

She looks him over for a moment before she asks, “And her gun to your head? What’d the math say about that? All part of your scheming?”

He shakes his head and waves a hoof away dismissively. “Judging by the rifle she was using, it wasn’t likely to cause me much harm. Not with a single shot. Even at point blank. The odds of her having access to kinetic rounds, ‘Dragon Slayers’, or other types of high impact rounds that would have worked with that gun were slim to none. Their equipment, especially armor, should have been leagues better quality if they had the kind of resources required to have access to that kind of ammunition.”

Swift blinks a few times rapidly then shakes her head. “But what if she did have the right ammo? She might not have the resources, but if she found that ammo somewhere and just happened to have it on her? You can’t rule out the pony factor.” She waves her hoof towards his head as she actually frowns. “And what if she fired more than once? Did you even think about that?”

Gearing tilts his head and gives a slight nod. “If she knew what those rounds were, she wouldn’t have had them loaded to deal with typical pony targets. They are too valuable. If she didn’t know, then that would be dumb luck… still, given positioning it’d take more then one round-”

“And what if she fired twice?! Or however many rounds it’d take to get through that hard head of yours?” Swift interrupts as her voice seems to be edging towards panic at how he seems so nonchalant about the whole thing.

Gearing shrugs. “She couldn’t have fired twice… Because if she fired, I would have fired simultaneously. And, regardless of what might have happened to me, she would have been dead before she hit the ground.” He waves a hoof towards the ground. “Simultaneously, I would have detonated my shaped charges, removing most if not all of the remaining opposition.” He points at his own head. “In the unlikely event that I was killed, the charges would have detonated via an interface with my PipBuck triggered by the death alert… If I was simply incapacitated, I could still detonate the charges via my SATS system… In either event, you and Handy would be free to engage, mop up the remaining, and begin giving me medical treatment. After you treated yourself for ear drum damage from the sound of the blast, that is.” He grins at her as he says, “In any way things would have turned out, I would have won…”

Gearing waves a wingtip around in a loop as he says, “With a normal round from her rifle I had around an eighty-nine point seven percent chance of simply getting injured, and not even severely, nor enough to remove me from the fight, nor keep me from detonating the charges…” He nods with a hard affirmative as he finishes, “Worst case scenario was her having a Dragon Slayer in the chamber, shooting me in the head just right, and dropping me… resulting in the chain of events I already said would happen… The chance of it actually being fatal for me, even with that worst case coming true, was roughly two point three.”

Swift’s jaw drops as her eyes bug out. “You had a two percent chance of dying and you still strolled in like you owned the place?!”

Gearing nods. “It was within acceptable risk parameters.”

Swift shakes her head. “How do you even figure that out? How does that even compute?!”

Gearing grins widely and pulls out a piece of packing paper from a wad he has in his bag and then starts writing on it as he says, “Oh! The math’s pretty easy. Here, let me show you.”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes as she groans. “Gearing… we don’t have time for you to sit here and write out whatever form of statistical calculus wizardry you’re going to pull out from under your tail… let alone the time it’d take for you to explain it to me…”

Gearing waves a wingtip at her dismissively as he says, “This won’t take long, really.”

“Gearing, we don’t-” Swift starts before she’s interrupted.

“Done! Here ya go.” Gearing sets the piece of paper on the ground near her hoof as he cuts her off.

She looks down and picks it up with a wing looking at it side to side, then rotating it over as she realizes the weird long lines aren’t individual calculations, but instead rather large letters. Though they are written in a way that it takes holding it at a steep angle to read it clearly.

‘I’m just fucking with you’

She lowers the paper as she narrows her eyes at him. “Really, Gearing?”

Gearing grins widely at her then shrugs. “The only surprising part of that should be you not seeing that coming already…” She scowls even harder at him. But, in return, he stretches out a forehoof and pats her shoulder. “I already told you once… you’re worth protecting. Worth the risk of dying for if necessary.” He pulls back and shrugs as he waves it away dismissively. “How’d you forget that already?”

Swift’s eyes go wide and she flushes lightly as she stares him in his eyes. A few seconds later she shakes her head and turns to look in another direction as she starts getting up and raises her head high in the air as she says, “That’s it… I’m telling Sable…”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Telling her what?”

“That you’re an insufferable flirt.”

Gearing waves a hoof around as he taps his chin with a wingtip and comments, “I wonder why I keep hearing everypony say that?”

“Probably ‘cuz it’s true,” Swift quips as she looks over her shoulder at him with a grin.

Gearing snickers as he looks over at Swift and waves a hoof around at the bounty before him. “Anything you’d like before I stow it?”

She smiles and shakes her head lightly as she’s walking towards the stairwell up. “No thanks. Save it for later. The kids will enjoy it when we get back.”

He bobs his head around then nods. “Sure.” As he’s shoving everything back into his saddle bags, and loading himself back up while keeping an eye on the exits, Swift calls Handy down from upstairs to join them so they can go. When Handy walks back into the room, Gearing asks, “So, we’re going straight there or going to skirt around the mob? Want to give me a bit of direction and I’ll do some more forward scouting?”

Handy looks over at him as he’s slowly pouring and tapping one piece of peach after another into his mouth. Savoring each and every piece before even thinking about getting another. He munches up the savory syrupy goodness before he says, “Well… That’s what you seem to be good at. We’re headed that way. I haven’t been there myself yet, so I’m not sure of the best route.” He points with the same hoof holding the can through the buildings where he knows Megamart sits with a camp of countless bounty hunters in front of it.

Gearing looks that way, then starts trotting off through the rear door as he says, “Guess we’ll just try the straight route this time then… I’ll stay in touch. If you change direction or run into trouble, let me know, and I’ll adjust as needed or meet up with you again.” As he’s walking through the back office storage room that leads to the rear exit he flips his cloak’s hood on before he turns the corner and vanishes from sight.

Swift walks over to Handy and can’t help but smile as Handy’s trying to fish out a few stubborn pieces from the can with his tongue while trying to not cut himself on the can. “See… he’s not such a bad buck. He got you peaches!”

Handy looks at the can as he pulls it back and wonders aloud, “How’d he know I liked peaches?”

Swift sits down next to him and shrugs. “Well, he asked… so.”

Handy’s eyes jump to their widest and he leans towards her as he stammers, “You- you don’t think they’re p-poisoned, do you!?”

She reaches over and lightly bops him on the head. “No, idiot. First, how would he close the can back up? Secondly…” her voice drops as she looks around and says with a sigh, “If he wanted you dead he could put a round through your head and you’d be dead before any of us heard the shot.”

Handy huffs and goes back to eating the last holdouts of peaches. “You say that like he’s some kind of super soldier badass… He’s just a technician for Stable-Tec.”

Swift looks at him sideways then leans towards him as she asks, “I’ve seen him shoot, into a melee, and only hit his targets…” She reaches over and gently taps the back side of the can, causing the rest of the peaches to slide out into Handy’s mouth. “Tell me… just how many raiders you think he had to kill to get those peaches for you?”

Handy looks at her and shrugs as he chews. “Two? Three?”

Swift waves over towards where Gearing had been sitting. “With that pile he brought back? Unless they just happened to hit a merchant caravan, I highly doubt it was that few.”

Handy rolls his eyes. “Then, what?”

Swift sighs and reminds Handy, “Are you forgetting what he did to those Gunners? To No-Shoes? He’s ruthless when it calls for it. And always efficient. And, you, Mister Hooves, really should stop antagonizing him. He’s a good one. Give him the chance he deserves.”

Handy scowls at her and lowers the can as he says with a grumble, “I’m trying, alright? But I don’t see why you keep defending him. What’s going on here?”

Swift leans over and runs a hoof along his cheek as she says softly, “He gave me my husband back. He made sure I wasn’t going to be a widow and our children would still have a father.” She leans over and gives him a kiss, and ends up licking his lips free of the peach syrup that still clung there. She partially closes her eyes as she looks into his. “And that’s to say nothing of defending and fixing the stable.” She gives his neck a light massage with a fetlock as she says ever so softly, “And the only thing… the only thing he’s asked for in return… is a little civility. To be treated with the same respect and consideration of anypony else. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?”

Handy lets out a sigh and looks around. He’s not enthused with her so blatantly taking Gearing’s side in this. Whatever happened to love, honor, and OBEY? pops into his head for a moment in frustration. But, she does have a bit of a point in his opinion. While he’d previously felt having the mindset of ‘just give Gearing what he wants and nopony gets hurt’ seemed a bit extortiony. Thinking about it in the other way, of Gearing wanting some basic level of consideration, and some damn respect. Well, he can completely understand that. Especially given how he’s been feeling so disrespected recently. He puts his hooves up slightly and admits, “You got a point.” He stands up and kicks the can off into a rubble pile and out of sight. “Speaking of which, we shouldn’t fall too far behind. He’s got a pretty good lead, so that should give us some fair warning of attack or more over ambitious bounty hunters.”

Swift stands up and grins at him. “Seeee. He’s helpful.” She leans over and gives him a lick on the cheek. “You got some peach on you.”

He looks at her sideways. “Oooh?” He grins and starts turning his head around in various directions while looking at her. “Anywhere else?” Swift giggles and gives him a few kisses and licks on various parts of his cheek and neck. After this continues for a few moments longer, Handy asks softly, “Should we uh… let him know we’re going to be late?”

She rolls her eyes and gives him one more neck kiss before grabbing the rest of her bags and heading out of the accounting office. They meander through the wreckage of buildings and wagons as they make their way back to the main road. They know they have a vanguard, and possibly an eye in the sky keeping watch over them and the surrounding areas, but they still remain wary as they go. They’d already been caught unawares once that day and don’t intend on letting it happen again. They don’t speak a whole lot as they don’t want to draw any more unwanted attention to themselves.

Nearing the end of a small cluster of collapsed buildings, Gearing partially lands on top of a skywagon wreck, just enough to cut some speed from coming down an embankment of rubble, before bounding off of it near them at a trot. As he’s shaking his wings, and folding them near himself again after adjusting the balance of the load on his back, he points further up the path towards the road. “There’s Megamart, looks like it’s practically some kind of town now. The area between here and there’s not exactly empty if we take the road. But everypony seems to be more interested in their own affairs than each other. Probably too much activity for a random ambush now as well. The camp of bounty hunters seems to be being kept at bay by some guardsponys at the front gate. Short of another group of idiots picking random ponies as The One They’re After I don’t see any troubles getting there, so that part should be fine.”

They step out of the relative cover of the rubble and onto the main road, instantly turning and making a straight line for the front gate of Megamart.

Though, as the others are keeping a wary eye on the mob of bounty hunters and other wastelanders that are traveling the same roads, Gearing’s attention is on their destination. He’s pretty sure he’s been to this store before. Back when it was known for its deals on consumer delights and long checkout lines. Unlike now. Where he’s pretty sure it would be known pretty well for the large defensive turrets sitting on each of its four corners. Despite the widespread defensive capabilities covering Equestria during the war, and especially Hoofington, these are definitely new additions since his last time here. At least to him. Though it has been over two hundred years he reminds himself.

He’s not sure of the exact model or schematics of the four cannons. But, judging by the bore of their barrels, they are fully capable of presenting a very lethal problem to him. He’d rather have that terracotta mare’s gun pointed at him point blank again, than have one of these four cannons so much as look in his general direction. And each time they’ve swept in Gearing’s direction he’s tensed and got ready to jump if he saw a muzzle flash, but, each time, they simply swung back the other direction as they kept an ever watchful eye out for trouble on their master’s behalf.

Whoever that is.

As if that wasn’t deterrent enough for most of the denizens of the wastes, the entire building seems to be surrounded by piled corpses of wagons, cart husks, and other large pieces of industrial rubble. By their collective depressing might, they formed a levee circumventing the large square building, protecting it from any potential flood of raiders. With apparently a solitary entrance in the form of a gate built into it, before you even got to the actual front doors of the old shopping center.

Though the old shopping center still bears its old neon lights. Sure, they blink and look like they had seen better centuries as they flicker so regularly. But they still did their job, marking the building as Megamart.

The red paint brushed just below the blinking lights declaring ‘Finders Keepers’ is another new-ish addition that Gearing notes. Whether the moniker in red paint is their official economic policy regarding salvage, or if it’s the name of an individual, Gearing can’t tell. The only pony he really is expecting to be here is a mare named Bottlecap.

A dozen, maybe more, ponies at the gate keep watch of everyone moving around the gate. The traffic in and out seems to be annoying everyone, guard and patron alike, as Swift leads the way up to the front gate and joins the line to get in next to Handy as Gearing brings up the rear.

A green unicorn mare waves them over to her side of the guard formation as she yells, “Hey, you two. Come on over here and we’ll get you in quicker…” As Swift and Handy are walking in her direction she adds, “Don’t recognize you, so in case you didn’t know there’s an entrance fee to get in… five per head and ten for your Bessy.” She finishes with a nod behind them towards the mobile cloth mountain poking out behind them.

“An entrance fee?” Handy asks with his typical level of distrust and skepticism.

“Another place charging just to get in?!” Swift asks with her eyes widening.

“I ain’t no damn Bessy!” Gearing bellows. Swift and Handy step to the side, revealing Gearing standing behind them under the giant load he’s carrying. “I’m not that damn fat!” Swift and Handy stare at him, and Swift starts smirking as she starts having a hard time not saying something she finds incredibly funny at the moment. Gearing, feeling the jokes coming and wanting to cut some of the steam from them yells out, “Okay, I am that heavy! But no reason to be calling me a fat cow!”

Another guard next to the green one asks absolutely astounded, “Buck, how are you carrying that much?! Look like a damn Brahmin under all of that!”

Gearing chuckles as he waves a hoof. “Well I got a strong back… and I know how to pack gear for the long haul.”

Swift snickers but turns towards the green unicorn mare with the interesting patterns across her hide. “Still… that’s like fifteen caps… don’t you think-”

“Oh hell no!” Gearing interrupts as he pushes his way forward and puts a hoof in Swift’s face. “You’re bad at math! We’re not doing more work just to get into the place. If you wanna work it off, pay to get in, then get the work inside. You’ll be much further ahead!”

Swift puffs out her lower lip as she looks off to the side and practically pouts, “What’s the fun in that?”

Gearing looks over at the mottle green unicorn and asks, “Fifteen caps for all three of us, right?” She nods. “Fuck it, I’ll pay for it! I wanna get out from under this shit!” He rummages under his cloak as he has his sorter bring his caps to the top, then he slaps the caps down on the ground in front of the gatekeeper as he says, “There! Fifteen caps, can we go in now? Please?”

She scoops the caps up with her magic and passes them off to one of the guards as she says, “Sure, but because of some idiots starting fights in here the other day, we’re having to restrict weapons.” She looks down at Gearing’s cloak where she’s sure she’s seen a rifle poking out from under it as she says flatly, “You’re going to have to surrender your weapons before going in.”

“Lemme guess, more trigger happy dumb asses after that stupid bounty?” Gearing asks sourly.

The guards exchange glances and the green mare bobs her head around as she says, “It was related, yeah.” She narrows her eyes as she asks, “Why, looking to collect for yourself?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Fuck that noise. Not interested in some wild goose chase. I got enough work to deal with without having half of Equestria after my ass too.” As she’s giving him a rather appraising look he looks up at the pack on his back and back to her as he asks, “Is the no weapons thing really necessary? I mean half my load is weapons I’m hoping to trade for supplies.”

“I mean look at this!” He lowers himself down, then leans to the side as he lets the large bag slide off of himself. After untying a few strategic straps the side bursts open with a practical flood of firearms, knives, blades, machetes, pool cues, and a few makeshift pieces of armor and weapons.

The crowd that had been in line to enter stares in bewilderment and an older buck with a duster jacket yells, “Damn buck’s walking around with an arsenal on his back!”

One of the guards asks, “You wanting to join the Finders and start a weapons store? The license is only a thousand caps and it gets you free entry… You’ve got more than enough to cover it…”

Gearing shakes his head as he points at the pile. “Nope. Not interested in being a shopkeeper. I just need some spare supplies to get some equipment fixed.”

The green mare stares at him and asks, “So you brought a bunch of weapons to barter with?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah. I picked this up along the way…” He looks over at the gathering mass waiting to get in as he chuckles. “The one thing raiders seem to be good for… is filling the saddle bags.”

The mottle green unicorn blinks a few times as she looks back and forth between Gearing and the pile of salvage spilling out of its bag like a broken dam. “I’m sorry, but we really do need to restrict weapons inside… Please surrender your weapons.”

Gearing looks at her and his jaw drops as he asks, “What… like... all of them? Seriously?”

“Yes all of them! There’s no point in restricting any if you’re not turning them all over!” one of the other guards says in an annoyed huff.

Gearing’s shoulders sag as he says, “This… is going to take a while…” He looks around at the others and huffs. “Fine! You asked for it!” He reaches under his cloak and pulls the long rifle with the gold charm hanging from it, prompting the guards to point their weapons at him and a few of the crowd to step back. But, contrary to what they had thought, he clears the chamber, and carefully sets it on the cloth bundle he just dropped a few moments before as he says, “Need to be careful with this one…”

The other’s relax as they see that he’s actually complying and rummaging through his bags and cloak for items to set down.

As Gearing is setting out a sheet on the ground to make a place to lay his items, Swift nudges Handy in his side as she sits down and grins. “Something tells me this is going to be funny.”

Handy looks at her sideways and asks, “Why?”

Swift grins wider and motions towards Gearing with a wing. “Because despite how much he can obviously carry, I don’t really see him using much…”

After Gearing lays down the cloth, he sets a second rifle on top of it.

Then a combat shotgun next to that.

Butter Churn’s 10mm pistol from a shoulder holster.

A revolver from under his left saddle bag.

A hunting rifle that’s been cut down to pistol size from under his right saddle bag.

A pipe wrench.

Large double sided crescent wrench.

Screwdriver.

Combat knife.

Hunting knife.

Butterfly knife.

Pocket knife.

Equestrian army pocket multitool.

Craft knife in a box with an assortment of blades.

A few blades from various knives that don’t even have handles.

A claw hammer.

Ice pick.

Chisels.

Metal punches.

A hoofful of large nails.

A couple frag grenades.

Spark grenades.

Incendiary grenades.

The two shaped charges he had installed in his bags earlier.

A few tin cans with various wires sticking out of them that he carefully sets down.

A trio of missiles, sans launcher.

A couple pipe bombs of various sizes.

A six pack of molotovs made from whisky and beer bottles.

He looks up at the green unicorn and sticks his muzzle out of the cowl enough to grin at her.

She raises an eyebrow and gives a forced cough before she asks softly,” Is… that all?”

Swift giggles as she asks, “Yeah, Gearing, is that all?!”

Gearing looks over at her and purses his lips to the side as he stretches out the cloak with a wing over the pile.

A collection of razor blades, and obviously improvised sharp bits of metal, fall out onto the pile as he manipulates his wing and releases them from their hiding places within what makes up his stained glass feathers.

Then he does the same with the other wing.

And a bag of caltrops get added to the top a moment later.

Then a bag of marbles.

A bag of ball bearings.

Bag of broken glass.

A repair kit with a collection of screwdrivers neatly lined up and at the ready.

Followed up with a crowbar and a prybar.

The other guards stand agape at the practical mountain of weaponry, that just seemed to get even absurdly bigger after they thought he was already done. Even the green unicorn mare in front of him seems a bit put out by how much he’d managed to ‘hold out’ after thinking he was finally finished.

“Hey, Gearing!” Swift calls from her seat near Handy. After he looks over at her she waves at the pile and says, “They said all of it!”

Everyone looks over at him as he gives her an absolutely scathing stare. “Dammit, Swift!”

He pulls out a collection of spikes, like over-sized needles, from gaps in his armor and sets them on the pile.

Then some throwing knives from the long hair around the back of his head.

Then a flexible saw that had been wrapped around his leg and hidden under a band is revealed and added to the pile.

And another pistol, that he had to reach far back under the cloak to get and made everyone very uncomfortable as he produced it and set it with the rest.

Then he produces a rock, a bit bigger than a grenade, grayish in color and nondescript otherwise, and sets it carefully on the very top of everything as he maintains hard eye contact with the green unicorn in front of him. They maintain eye contact for a few moments before he says quietly, “Re-spect… the rock…” He gives it a soft tap and then sits back as he looks at them and awaits to see if they are satisfied.

“I don’t think that’s everything!” Swift chimes in from the side with a massive grin across her muzzle.

“What?! You expect me to give them my hooves too? Because they’re brass?! Fuck that, I’m attached to them!” Gearing retorts as he glares over at her.

One of the wastelanders that had lined up to get in behind them stares absolutely bewildered at the display as he asks, “What’s… what’s with the rock?”

Gearing turns to look at the unknown fellow and replies with quiet reverence, “One does not simply question the rock. Do not seek to understand the rock. For the rock is powerful and beyond your comprehension.”

He looks over at the mostly green unicorn guard, who seems to be lost staring into the mountain of weaponry, and takes in the view of the different colored splotches across her hide in grays and browns. He debates on asking if they are scars, or simply something she was born with. But he decides against being so rude to someone he just met and, instead, says with a grin as he pats on the pair of piles. “I’m going to need a receipt for each and every single thing you ‘restrict’ from entering.”

She looks up at him and her mouth hangs agape as Swift walks over to him giggling. Swift pops him on a shoulder and nods towards the pile he’d just pulled out of everywhere. “So why’d you try to keep anything hidden? Not like you actually need weapons…”

Gearing frowns at her and points at them as he replies, “I prefer to use weapons when I can… and stay at a distance when I’m able… It’s what everyPONY else does, right?” She stares at him for a few moments and he mutters as he goes back to looking at his stash pile, “And putting it all back is a bitch too…,” causing Swift to snicker and almost fall over as she tries not to laugh.

Gearing looks over at her and nods towards the pile he’d set down originally. “Once we’re inside, could you go about doing all of the trading? At least selling it off?”

Swift looks around and asks, “Why? You got somewhere to go?”

Gearing bobs his head around as he says, “Well, I’d like to get some more info about this bounty nonsense… It’s causing a lot of problems already, just like I said it would, and it’s not going to stop until it’s resolved one way or another.” He looks over at the pile of loot and groans. “And I also have no idea how much this shit’s worth with the current economy. So I don’t really have a price point to start bartering with.”

Swift points at his leg and shrugs as she comments flatly, “Just use your PipBuck.”

Gearing looks over at her and tilts his head. “What?”

Swift gets closer and grabs his foreleg, pulling it closer to herself, with him obviously letting her manipulate his leg, and points at it as she smirks. “Your PipBuck can tell you how much it’s worth… I don’t know how, but it even can factor things in via price in caps. See?” She holds up her PipBuck and goes through the item sorting menu. She selects a Sparkle Cola, and grabs it out of her bag to present it to him with a smile. “According to the PipBuck this is worth ten caps… so we can go from there.” She puts it back and purses her lips to the side as she smirks. “How is mister shameless flirt with the businessfilly ghoul suddenly getting shy about bartering?”

Gearing frowns and taps out a few commands on his screen. He shows the entry for a box of Sugar Apple Bombs that he still has in his bags as he says softly, “See for yourself.”

She glances at it, and takes in the various information. But then blinks and shakes her head. She looks up at him and asks softly, “Where’s the ‘value’ entry?”

“Mine doesn’t have one…” Gearing says quietly.

“What?” Swift asks as she shakes her head and tries to make the world make sense again.

“PipBucks aren’t magical do all devices… they have limits… And, if you haven’t noticed by now, mines not exactly standard.” He shrugs as he closes out of the interface and goes back to sitting normally. “Mine doesn’t have the economic package. So I have no idea how much everything’s worth, except what it’s worth to me.” He shrugs. “Which makes you and Handy the better option for figuring out what we can actually get for all of this.”

Swift lets out a long sigh as she hangs her head. She looks up at him with one eye as she asks, “You want me to start making a list for you?” Her tone is a bit snarky, but her eyes jump wide open as Gearing replies.

“Please do! Factor in relative condition too, after enough data points I’ll be able to sort out what things are roughly worth on my own… Unless you want to do my shopping for me from now on.”

She raises a hoof and quickly looks away. “Point taken. I’ll start working on it once we’re inside.”

Gearing nods as he looks behind them at the camp of bounty hunters still loitering around out front of Megamart. “While you’re doing that, I’ll go have a word with the numbskulls and see what’s really going on. If anything.” He looks around up and down the highway in both directions and says with a combination of annoyance and wonder, “It’s amazing there’s this many dumb asses still lingering around here. I guess greed really does blind the weak.”

“Excuse me, sir?” a mare’s voice distracts him from his moody ramblings. He looks over at the pony who’d been part of the gatekeepers, prompting her to flash a sheepish smile. “So, we’ve talked it over, and since there’s just so much, and you’re going to sell it anyway… and the party in question isn’t even on premises anymore… you may go in…” She cringes as she takes a step back. “With all of your property.”

Gearing gawks at the tan guardsmare as he waves a hoof at her. “You mean to tell me you made me strip down and dig everything out for nothing?!”

Swift starts snickering. Again.

The guard looks over at the mottled green unicorn and scowls, “Dammit, Keystone, you’re the one that did it, why do I have to be the bad pony here?”

Keystone steps to the side and makes a grand gesture of waving Gearing in. “You’ve already paid. Go on in.” She straightens up a bit as she points a hoof at him. “But, just a word of warning, if you plan on using those weapons inside… Fire a single shot, and you’ll bring the wrath of Gun down on you.”

“Who’s Gun?” Handy asks as he steps up next to Swift.

Keystone smirks and points a hoof up as she says, “When you get inside, look up, and you’ll see.” She looks over at Gearing and nods inside as she says, “While you’re in there, talk to the manager. I’m sure she’d like to talk with somepony who’s able to do so much trading at once.”

Gearing mutters and grumbles as he’s picking up his various personal effects. “Gonna take me forever to get this shit back in place… such a pain in the ass…” Swift starts visibly shaking and her eyes water as she watches him complain and scoop up his belongings into an awkward pile on the cloth.

Handy leans over and asks, “Uh… Gearing… where’d that last pistol come from, anyway?”

Gearing glares at him and Swift finally does fall over laughing.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 12%

Gravity Differential alignment at 25%

Gravity Differential alignment at 37%

49 A Little Heavy Hoofed

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Little Gearing quickly runs through his cloud house as he goes from one room to another, grabbing any items he suddenly thinks of and depositing them on the kitchen table as his mother sits there watching him zip around the house faster than she’s ever seen him move.

She looks one way, then the other, as she tracks his movements through the cloud house by the soft ‘wumpfs’ of his hoof falls. “You’re in such a hurry! You don’t have to zip back out of here this instant, do you? You just got back!”

Gearing runs from the right room, past the table, dropping an unfinished model of some kind of EDF aircraft on the table as he does, and squeals in delight, “I can stay the night, but they said they wanted me back by morning!”

She follows him out with her gaze and frowns as she asks, “Well, why do you have to head off so quickly?”

Gearing comes back and sets down a few pouches of tiny screwdrivers and other tools next to the model as he says, “Normally I’d be still in the dorm, but since I don’t need to sleep, I figured I’d use the time productively and come grab a few things before heading back!”

She scowls and yells after him as he zips up the stairs. “You do too have to sleep! Don’t let them work you into the ground!”

Gearing shakes his head as he comes back and slaps a piece of paper on the table in front of her. “No. I’m not. They’re actually pretty lenient on my schedule… I’m using my spare time to learn as much as I can and take advantage of every edge I can find!”

His mother sighs as she looks down and quickly grabs the paper he’d given her as it tries to fly off with the gust of wind from his next zooming pass. “And what’s this?”

Gearing comes back and sets down a set of magnifying glasses and a hoofball helmet that he’s made a variety of modifications to which allow tools to be temporarily held against its sides. “That’s the number to the switchboard.” He looks up at her and grins as he shrugs. “I’m gonna be soooo busy, that I most likely won’t be able to answer the phone. They are going to be sending me allllll over the place and learning allllll kinds of things.” He taps on the paper with a wing as he trots off. “Just call the switchboard if you need me and they’ll get a message to me as quickly as they can.”

She looks at the paper and frowns as she says, “It just feels like you’re growing up too fast…” She looks sideways as she spots him walking through the adjoining room. “I don’t want them taking advantage of you… or… worse… you getting bullied while there.” She shakes her head. “Everything else aside, jealous ponies are especially bad to those younger than them.”

Gearing walks by and waves a hoof dismissively as he says, “Oh, that won’t be a problem. I already took care of that on the first day…”

His mother watches him walk by, then narrows her eyes as she points across the table in front of her and demands, “Gearing Green Wing… Get over here right this instant.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and turns around, walking dutifully to the position across from his mother indicated and looks up at her with a tilt of his head. “What is it, mom?”

She points one of her silvery wings in his face as she says, “Don’t give me that ‘what is it mom’ nonsense. I know that tone! I heard it.” She points at one of her ears before she looks back at him. “Exactly what did you do that has you so sure that they won’t be a problem anymore?” She slaps a hoof over her eyes and practically begs, “Please tell me you didn’t do something like wonder glue them to their seats or something? They’ll retaliate… you know this.”

Gearing shakes his head and grins. “Oh… No, I didn’t pull any pranks on them, mom.”

She pulls the hoof away from her eyes as she asks, “Then… what?” After a few moments she narrows her eyes as she says, “I see that smirk, Gearing.”

Gearing puffs up his chest and puts a hoof to it as he says, “I showed them that I was not somepony to mess with!” He waves over at his modified helmet as he says, “It’s all about respect. I just had to show them that I deserved it… and they wouldn’t bother me… you know?”

She stares at him for a moment before she says flatly, “No, Gearing, I don’t know… that’s why I’m asking…”

Gearing rolls his eyes and waves a wingtip at her. “Geeze, mom… It’s not hard…” He leans sideways and waves his right hoof around a bit. “So, when I first got there. There was one of those ridiculously big earth pony jocks… you know? Looks like he could gobble me up in, like, two bites? Well… He thought it was sooooo funny what my size is… and… well… you know what they say about earning respect on the schoolyard.”

She keeps her eyes on him as she says in the same flat tone, “Again, Gearing, no… I do not… what do they say?”

Gearing rolls his eyes again and waves a hoof around in a circle. “It’s no big deal… You just find the biggest, meanest, toughest looking pony in the yard… and you walk up, and pow!” He jumps in the air as he swings his right hoof. “And you sock them right in the face and show them you ain’t no chump!”

Her eyes fly open wider as she asks, “You did what?!”

Gearing puffs up his chest again as he closes his eyes and taps on the metal plates over his chest cavity. “Oh yeaaahh. I introduced him to old thunder and knocked him stupid!” He hops around on his hind legs and throws out his forehooves randomly in a bad illustration of shadow boxing. “I taught him that momma didn’t raise no punching bag, just like you told me to do back when I was in classes with Mrs. Peachums.”

Her eyes go to their absolute widest as she clangs her hooves to the sides of her own cheeks in horror. “You didn’t!”

He taps on his own jaw as he grins at her. “I sure did! Turns out baby had a glass jaw and stumbled all around before ending up on his back and unconscious!” He mimics the sideways walk with his tongue hanging out of his mouth before falling over and laying on his back with his legs straight up in the air.

She shakes her head slowly as she puts all of the pieces together and asks softly, “Why would you do that?!”

Gearing hops up onto his hooves with a snap and rolls his eyes. “I told you, mom… I had to make sure I earned their respect… and that’s what you have to do in the yard: deck the biggest, meanest, toughest looking pony to show the rest of them that you’re not scared!”

She shakes her head rapidly before she throws her hooves out at him. “Sweety! Noooo!!! That’s prison! A prison yard! Not a schoolyard! That’s what they say to do in a prison yard! And if you keep this up that’s exactly where you’re going to end up!”

Gearing snorts and waves a hoof at her dismissively as he nickers off to the side. “Naaah… There’s nothing to worry about there.”

His mother looks around as she asks, “Is that the real reason you’re back? Are they after you? Did he report you to the police? Or do you think he’ll show up at the door to pick a fight?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Why would he do that?” He grins widely as he waves both of his forehooves around. “We’re like best friends now! No one’s knocked him out with one hoof before… He’s not mad, he was impressed!” He waves his hoof over towards the small tools as he says, “That’s why I need my tool kits. He’s even promised to help me out by showing me a few things he already knows.”

She stares at him for a few moments before she asks, “You knocked him on his ass… and now your best friends and study buddies?”

“Yup!” Gearing responds cheerfully.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After dealing with the nonsense at the front door of Megamart, Gearing wasn’t too enthused with going in at the time, at least not without getting some more information about what’s really going on around here. So, after resecuring all of his gear, by putting a few of the more obvious items in their proper places and the rest just got bound up in the cloth he’d laid down then shoved in a mostly empty saddle bag, he took his massive burden inside and passed it off to Handy and Swift. This freed him to go about trying to track down leads while Swift did all of the actual running around and bartering with the mass of salvage they’d cumulatively collected. This turn of events left Handy sitting alone in the corner, where Gearing had dumped his brahmin sized pack, to keep an eye on the now immobile mound of salvage. Which, like many things Gearing seems to enjoy doing, makes for one annoyed blue pony grumping at his surroundings and wondering why he came all this way to foal-sit a pile of trash.

Gearing takes his time approaching the group out front of Megamart as he ambles around seemingly aimlessly in his cloak. He keeps an eye on the comings and goings of the others, and matches the chaotic flow of hoof traffic as he slowly merges in with the mass of bodies. He starts walking around the crowd at first, on the periphery, circling, as he lets his ears twitch this way and that and slowly focus. Despite the ongoing jumble of conversations melding together into a chaotic din, he quickly realizes the group, the whole group, is here for the same thing.

The largest bounty ever.

He was pretty sure of the fact before actually swimming among them, given the events of the morning, but it’s always good to have confirmation instead of just running on assumptions. Which he’s been left to do so often, and uncomfortably so, these days.

Figuring this would be an excellent time to get more information, and always one for seizing an opportunity when it arises, Gearing starts moving from group to group to see what he can gleam from any of them. Any and all information is valuable in his opinion so he asks about things most would find innocuous. Or down right weird to even ask. Favorite things to eat. Drink. Any known vices. Any drugs of choice. All of it can help him locate his target. Any single, even minute, fragment of information could very well be the linchpin in securing a mark.

But most of those around look at him like he’s an idiot for being stuck on trivial matters when he asks, marking them as incompetent amateurs in Gearing’s book. Others though, asking similar questions, seem to actually know what they’re doing.

Through it all he gets far more information than what the would-be bounty hunters in Megamac could tell him. And, because of that, some of their recent problems actually start making sense.

She’s a white coated unicorn with a red and black mane and tail, and a miniscule horn. She was last seen in Megamart after she had a fight with the one that put the bounty on her, and is currently traveling with a blue earth pony and a pegasus mare. So the ones this morning were correct. But given that the pegasus mare in question is gray, with a purplish mane, and Swift is sky blue with a blue streaked red mane, they are either completely color blind, misinformed idiots, or both.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head keeps rampantly waving a giant flag that says ‘Option C’ as he thinks it over.

From his snooping and eavesdropping he finds out that she used to be a stable pony, was security for the stable nonetheless, and it’s actually her PipBuck that they really want. They only want her so bad because she pissed someone off that, by all accounts, is not a pony to be messed with. Apparently she’s a drunken idiot that got into a tussle in the early am hours two days ago, and wrecked part of the shopping area in Megamart in the process.

Which, given it’s supposed to be neutral territory, explains the management’s decision to limit weapons inside until tempers cooled down.

And, despite the semi regular flow of new arrivals, every now and then groups, or individuals, break off from the throng of bodies to try their luck with one of the random directions the conflicting rumors say she’s gone. But, even with the combined knowledge of the group, each and every direction is a complete shot in the dark on if they are even heading the right way.

But, as Pile Driver can attest, sometimes idiots do get lucky with that.

Gearing continues walking through the crowds of masses as he twitches his ears this way or that. One never knows when you’ll pick up the most crucial information from simply listening as you’re passing by. It’s been a tactic that has served him well over the years. And now that he’s so out of the loop, by over two centuries, he really needs every iota of advantage he can get. Even if it’s not pertaining to this ridiculous bounty. But as he’s slowly walking he does what he can to be as non-invasive as possible. He practically glides through the mob as he keeps his head down, but remains fully aware of his surroundings as he takes one slow deliberate step after another. Making sure to minimize the noise he could be making with each step to mask his passing presence.

While going through a gap between two apparently separate groups of individuals, someone screams from the side and draws everyone's attention.

A ghoul in an old ratty desperado hat jumps out from the crowd and tackles Gearing while screaming a variety of obscenities, but the only thing that really is intelligible to most of them is ‘Zebra scum!’

Gearing rolls with his attacker, flipping them off of his back as he smoothly tumbles over and spins around to confront this unknown individual that decided to accost him. Gearing slowly peeks out from under his cowl, not allowing his face to be shown as he quickly watches the movements of those around him to see if anyone else is going to try something directly. Or if they were going to assist the ranting ghoul in general.

The ghoul rolled with the action of Gearing throwing him, and gets back up to his hooves as he jumps back and just outside of hoof range with Gearing. As he yells, the ratty few strands that are left of what must have been a long goatee or beard jumps around as he says, “I know yer tricks, dirty zebra infiltrators!” He waves a hoof at Gearing as he screams, “Ain't no zebra commando gettin’ the betta’ o’ ole Stink-Eye today! No Sirre!”

A mare in a peach duster slathered with road grime jumps out of the crowd as she says, “Hey! Stinky! You canna just go ‘round calling other people zebra. Most don’t take to kindly to that!”

Stink Eye waves his hoof at Gearing as he looks at her and screams, “But ah dun seent it! They’s slinkn’ ‘round like a ghost in the middle o’ the day. Mark mah words they just lookn’ ta put a knife in yer back!”

She shakes her head. “Stink Eye, the war’s over, I keep tellin’ you this. It’s been over for 200 years! Even if he was a zebra you can’t just go around attacking any you see, that ain’t right neither!”

“He ain’t just no zebra, I seent the way he’s walkin’. He’s up to no good, I tells ya! He’s one o’ them zebra commandos and he’ll kill all o’ us if’n we don’t do somethin’ ‘bout it!”

“So what if I am?” Gearing’s voice comes out slow and steady. Noticeably a bit deeper than he normally would try to communicate with someone.

They all turn to look at Gearing as a couple of them actually step back and away from him.

The old ghoul waves a hoof at him as he screams, “See! He’s dun admitted it! Ya can’t trust no dirty stripers!”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Gearing’s deeper than normal voice flows out of the cloak as he keeps his covered head staring right at the ghoul challenger.

The ghoul steps closer, actually within range, as he says, “Ya dun scare me none, ya striped bastard! I survived fightin’ scum like ya before ya were even an itch in yer great grand-daddy’s two-tone sheath!”

Gearing doesn’t move, not a millimeter, as he replies, “That would be false… for if you’d fought any like me, you wouldn’t be standing here to say so.”

The ghoul waves his hoof at Gearing again as he opens his mouth to scream out one offense or another, but freezes in his tracks as Gearing’s cloaked form barely flutters before he practically appears in front of the ghoul, face to face, but down under his muzzle and well inside of his guard, as he looks at the ghoul through the cloak. “I can demonstrate the point… if that is what it will take to finally convince you.”

The ghoul’s pale eyes dart around for a few moments before he stutters, “D- dun let tha zebra get ya… save yerselves!”

Gearing straightens up a bit and asks quietly, but with the same deep tones, “So, again, ‘so what if I am zebra?’”

“Ya won’t get away with this… once ya show yer true colors, the rest will see, they’ll know! Then yer stripped ass will be a real ghost!”

“My true colors?” Gearing asks in a whisper. He tilts his cloak, pulling the cowl back enough that the gold line across his face reflect and sparkle with the morning light for only the ghoul to see. “You don’t know who I am, you attack me, and for what? Because you say I’m a zebra? Fine… so I am… What are you going to do about it, filth?”

“Ah- ah’ll show you… go ahead, kill me, better wiped than striped!”

Gearing straightens up even more as he looks at the ghoul’s face, and slips the cowl off his head enough to reveal the right side of his profile, carefully keeping the golden bits of his face hidden under the cowl from everyone else. “I… really… hate bigots.”

He steps in, grabbing the ghoul by a foreleg, as he twists and spins his own body, slamming the ghoul, head first, into the ground and causing hairs and black ichor to spread about as he crumples the buck’s hat with his own weight. He spins around and starts walking around the splayed out ghoul as he says, “Ignorant bastards like you are what kept the fires burning. Instead of focusing on what we have in common, they focused on how we were different. Vilified each other for no other purpose than to try and make themselves feel superior…” He leans down and looks into the ghoul’s face. “Well... do you feel superior now?” Then he lets out a sigh as he says with a wispy tone, “Or do I need to finish this demonstration to convince you? . . . I’ll let you decide… but do so quickly, I have a busy day I need to get to.”

The ghoul blinks as he looks up at Gearing looming over him. “Oh… sorry. I don’t know what I was thinkin’. Yer obviously not a zebra… nope. My mistake.”

Gearing narrows his eyes at him then says, “That is not what I asked nor what I meant… but if that’s the path you wish to choose, in order to keep your foolish pride intact… then so be it.” He starts turning and walking away as he adds, “Do not let your bigotry get the better of you again, because the next time the one you accost might not be so forgiving of your attitude…”

The group backs up and Gearing goes back to slinking around the periphery. However, his ability to gather passing information is greatly diminished because of the outburst. Pretty much everyone is paying extra attention to him now. A few, rather insultingly, regularly check their bags as, or after, he’s passing. Like he’s a simple thief. And others outright halt their conversations when they notice him approaching, choosing to focus all of their attention on him than on whatever they were just talking about.

As Gearing is working his way through the slowly thinning crowds, he notices a group leave, and one of the ones that was with them staying behind and watching them leave.

He draws his eyes over her as he tries to size the unicorn up. Her cream colored pelt, what’s visible of it anyway, seems well cared for with no visible scars. Her nearly black mane, with it’s blue highlights, has been cut rather short and barely comes down to the collar of her massive white coat. And, as he’s walking around to look at her, he notices a large blue ribbon that’s been folded into a bow tie at the base of her neck and above her vest.

He walks up towards her as he asks, “You’re friends leave without you?” Both getting her attention and making sure she knows that he’s there, and that he’s fine with her knowing. As she turns she starts sizing up his cloak covered form, measuring him up in a similar way that he’s been doing to her. Her gray eyes have an intensity that is uncommon, beaming with an inner source of strength all their own. Though, in juxtaposition, her actual stature is a bit shorter than most unicorn mares he knows, let alone someone who’d have such steely eyes.

She looks at him sideways and smirks. “We’re not friends, we’d just met. They’re going on ahead to try and see if they can track her down. What they were really interested in was someone with a few more spell tricks than I have…” She looks in the direction they’d gone as she says softly, “No loss, I’m having second thoughts about this bounty anyway…”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “What, they didn’t think they could use your gun-s?"

She turns her head to look at him and raises an eyebrow as she tries to figure him out. Gearing points a hoof to his cloaked muzzle as he says, “I can smell the gun oil… quite the arsenal… or you spilled your cleaning kit on yourself…”

She giggles as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not that clumsy.”

Gearing looks around as he asks, “So, you’re feeling uneasy about it too, it seems… What’s your take on it?”

She shakes her head as she waves a hoof around aimlessly. “Going after bounties is no big deal. Just get the job, track them down, and bring back proof they’ve been dealt with. Usually it’s pretty straight forward… Someone’s done someone else wrong and they want it dealt with, but are too scared or unable to do anything about it themself.” She shrugs. “Decent caps if you have any skill at getting it done.”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at her. “And you take just any job someone gives you?”

She looks over at him and frowns as she says, “No, not usually… I normally go after the higher bounties from reputable backers… towns, companies, rich folk, whatever. I’m not normally interested in a bounty just because it has a high number on it, too many problems that way.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah, more likely to get a double cross instead of payment…”

She turns and points a hoof at him as she hangs her mouth open in shock. “That’s exactly what I was trying to tell those idiots that just left!” She looks around and smirks. “So, you seem to know what you’re doing… The business is kind of a small world and, since I don’t know you, I guess you’re not from around here, huh?”

Gearing shrugs. “Not really, no. First time through to trade at Megamart and thought I’d find out what I could about this bounty while I was here.”

“Soooo… what’s your take on it then?”

Gearing looks behind himself at the rest of the mob as he shakes his head slowly. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m just trying to figure out who this is all about at the moment… If it is on the up and up, the individual’s gotta be bad news and needs to be taken care of sooner than later. Otherwise a lot of ponies could get hurt in the process.”

She looks at him and grins. “So you think you’re up for the challenge to take them down?”

“No idea.” Gearing shrugs as he says, “Since I don’t even know who it is, let alone what they are capable of, I can’t say for sure one way or another… Regardless, you only know that for sure after you’ve actually put yourself to the test, and find out after it’s settled.”

She looks him over as she asks, “So, you looking for a partner for this bounty?”

Gearing shake his head. “Trying to figure out if I want any part of this mess at all. I don’t like it so far. I’ll tell ya that.”

“Well, you seem like you have more in your head than rocks and clouds… So if you decide to give it a go, and I’m still around, let me know and we’ll go stalking.” She waves a hoof at herself as she says, “Name’s Dandy.”

“Gearing.” He shrugs again as he waves his hoof at her, “Yeah, I might just-” He stops mid sentence as he looks over at the crowd to their right. “Uhmmm… sorry... I gotta go check on something… I’ll talk to you later, Dandy.”

She waves him off then starts walking in another direction as she says, “Sure. Good luck with whatever that is.”

Gearing turns and starts walking slowly towards a group of ponies that are walking across his path. But they aren’t who he is focusing on. The moment the group passes, he sees the griffon and pony he was looking at previously. He’d noticed the griffon first. Being that there's not another one in this group that he can see. And that oddity drew his attention to his apparent companion, the earth pony buck standing next to him. Which was the real reason for Gearing’s attention suddenly being entirely redirected and the conversation to being halted.

As Gearing heads towards the pair, he takes careful note of each one of them. His first observation is that the pair don’t seem to actually be with any of the others they are standing around. Given that no one else really pays them any attention as they sit and talk quietly between themselves and seem to be casually listening in to what is going on around them.

The griffon sticks out for a few reasons and not just for the fact that he’s the only one of his kind within the immediate area. Gearing’s sure that, with a bounty like this, at least a few griffon mercenaries would be here. Either on the orders of their contract holders or of their own volition. But this one stands out for being rather neatly and immaculately dressed. The specially tailored midnight blue business suit covers most of the charcoal gray feathers that cover the majority of his body. A look that seems more fitting for a company CEO walking into a board meeting, instead of some bounty hunter in the middle of the wastes of Hoofington. The white feathers that cover his head, and at least enough of his neck and chest to disappear under the breast of the suit he’s wearing, are of a rather short variety. Gearing’s not sure if the feathers upon his head are naturally that small, or if he keeps them groomed and trimmed such that he almost has a smooth bald appearance. And there upon the bridge of his orange beak, the crowning mark of absurdity, is a pair of dark sunglasses that entirely blocks anyone’s view of his eyes. Though, judging by the way he’s slowly looking around by turning his head like a defense turret, the dark glass isn’t impeding his vision much, even in this overcast hellscape called Hoofington.

But as well dressed and serious looking as the griffon is, his companion is practically the complete opposite.

The yellow coated earth pony buck looks like an absolute slob in his military uniform. It’s at least clean, mostly, but the way he has it on so lackluster, with most of the buttons not even clasped and the outer layer untucked and simply hanging from his body, would give any drill sergeant a joygasm at the unholy hell they’d bring down on him if he were in service. He looks more like he just got out of a two week bender and hadn’t bothered to look at himself before stepping out of the door this morning. His messy red mane has been separated into a forward set of bangs that seem to arc out front into spiky antenna like appendages of their own. Spikes which creep over a pair of dark goggles that he currently has raised up and resting over his forehead. The rest of his red mane is pulled back and kept neat, comparatively speaking to the rest of him, by being clasped together and clumped into a single long bunch via a hair tie at the base of his skull.

And then there’s the weird face tattoos.

A pair of them. One on each cheek, just under and to the side of each eye. If they were a bit lower, and black, it’d almost make sense to Gearing as a type of glare reduction to help eyesight. Maybe. But with their red sickle like shapes it’s more like he’s trying to give his eyes comma punctuation marks. While, simultaneously, giving him the perpetual look of having been slashed in the face, on both sides, recently.

But, their peculiar looks aren’t the reason why Gearing’s so focused on them. No, to each their own. Gearing’s not one to judge for what makes others comfortable with their own looks.

The logo emblazoned across the shoulder pads of the yellow buck’s military combat uniform, however, is another matter entirely.

As Gearing’s getting close, the griffon’s gaze turns in his direction, and starts turning to look back the other way, before jumping his focus back over to Gearing in a quick double take. And, as Gearing is stepping up to him, the griffon uses a claw and nudges his earthbound friend to draw his attention to the fact that they have company.

The yellow buck turns his head from looking over at a group not far away, to look at the griffon, then turns his head to see where his friend’s steely gaze seems to be directed. And he comes face to cloaked face with Gearing. The yellow buck looks him over before he says, “Ya? Wut you want, yo?”

Gearing nods towards him as he says, “Couldn’t help but notice the icon on your shoulder.”

The buck raises an eyebrow then looks at his shoulder as he asks, “Wut ‘bout it, yo?”

Gearing looks him over, while paying careful attention to the griffon with them. He knows, better than anyone, just because someone seems unarmed, doesn’t mean they are. And, if they seem so, in an environment like this, that’s even more reason for concern. “You two with the Gunners?”

The yellow buck rolls his eyes as he sits back and throws his forehooves around the back of his head lazily and looks off in an entirely different direction. “Look… I’m on vay-cay, yo… You wanna ‘tract. Go talk to someone who cares. Ain’t me, yo.”

Gearing looks him over as he asks, “Soooo… you’re not out here looking for a Suncat and her friends?”

The yellow buck rolls his eyes before he looks at Gearing and lets out a sigh. “Lookit, yo. I’m just on vay-cay… I needed a break after our last gig, yo. I’m only here ta see what this big score is supposed to be all about, yo. Nothin’ else.”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “So the entire org doesn’t take on a contract?”

The yellow buck sticks out a forehoof as he rocks it side to side. “Yeah… but nah, yo…” He relaxes to the side as he points to the griffon next to him. “Me and Rude here just finished our gig, yo. But if we screwed up, and the ‘tract’s still good, someone else could pick it up. But it’s not like the entire group goes after any one score, yo. That’d just be dumb. Nothin’ pays that good, yo.”

“So you won’t even go after another contract, even if you get info on it?” Gearing prods.

The yellow buck waves a hoof dismissively, “Poachn’ other people’s scores gets the crap kicked out of ya, yo… Ya could join up with’em for a piece of it, but ‘tracts get one group at a time so no one’s steppin’ on anyone else’s tail in the process, yo.”

“Anyway to get a contract canceled?”

The yellow buck raises an eyebrow as he looks Gearing over. “Oh… I get it, yo… the cat’s your friend, eh?” He raises both forehooves up and to the side as he shakes his head. “Hey, don’t get mad at us, yo. We’re just mercenaries. Hired hooves, yo. Nothin’ more…” He waves a hoof around at the mobs around them. “Just like all of these ponies… It’s not our fault, yo. Go get mad at the one who put the contract out, yo.” He shrugs as he says, “The ‘tracts followed to the letter, but if it’s not valid anymore for whatever reason, we’re not wastin’ time, yo.”

Gearing tilts his head, and blatantly ignores the question, as he asks, “And what if the contract is suddenly far more dangerous than they said, or they lied about it?”

The buck and the griffon look at each other for a moment before the yellow buck replies, “Well… we’d still be bound by the contract to get it done, but we really wouldn’t be happy about it, yo.” He waves a hoof dismissively at Gearing. “That’s how you get blacklisted, yo. ” He looks off to the side as he chuckles, and doesn’t hide from his expression how he’s obviously not happy about the thought of the situation and doesn’t actually agree with it himself. “We have a reputation to uphold, and everythin’, ya know, yo?”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head rubs his forehooves together as he gives a massively oversized grin and asks, You thinking what I’m thinking?

Gearing smirks as he asks the yellow buck, “So if a contract ends up getting, say… over a dozen ponies of your group killed… You’re fine with that?”

The yellow buck’s eyes shoot wide and he shares sideways glances with the griffon, who visibly arcs an eyebrow from behind the dark sunglasses in Gearing’s direction, before he asks, “How’d that happen, yo? Who?”

“Does the name ‘Bradoak’ mean anything to you?” Gearing asks casually.

The yellow buck nods as he says, “Yeah. Was a bit of a tightwad, yo. Mainly did long term runs down south. Like way south, yo. But he’s been doin’ trips around the New Appleoosa to Manehatten area lately, yo… He was sent out a couple weeks ago to find and track down a group of raiders that were ‘tween New Appleoosa and Megamac.” He shrugs. “Took a bunch of newbies with him, yo. Mostly gangers that just joined up and needed some experience on how the chain of command works, yo. But, they had enough skill to be useful for takin’ out a raider nest.” He shrugs.

Gearing looks between the two as he says, “Well, apparently him and his group got wind of the location of the Suncat that you’re group has a contract on… And they decided to take advantage of it.”

The yellow buck’s eyes go wide as he says, “That would not go over well, yo!”

Gearing shrugs. “You’re right, it went under well… like six feet under.”

“They’re dead?” the griffon finally asks in a deep tone.

Gearing looks between them and nods.

“How?” the yellow buck asks as he leans back and crosses his forehooves behind his head. But the tone seems more curious than concerned or upset to Gearing.

Gearing looks over at him as he says, “She’s got some really crazy, and dangerous friends…” He looks between them as he eases out the rifle he’d gotten from Dolor casually from his cloak, as if he’s adjusting its placement, and lets the golden charm dangle down well within their view as he rests the rifle across his shoulder again, but outside of his cloak. “Including a Reaper…” He looks between them as he says, “They wiped out the whole group on a whim and fed what was left of them to the radroaches.” He shrugs. “It’s not even the cat you gotta worry about, it’s her friends.”

They look at each other as they apparently try to figure out what to say. “Well… for trying to poach a score that serves them right, yo. But damn…”

Gearing waves a hoof at them as he says, “I’m just saying, it’s a bad idea to try and mess with her. Cuz her friends are crazy. And crazy loyal. But if I can’t convince you to drop it… well…” He shrugs and tilts his head as he says, “They got in a dust up with some Halfhearts west of here… Last they were seen was going through Miramare and headed towards Black Pony Mountain.”

The yellow buck eyeballs the charm for a while as he asks, “You hopin’ to hire us to go after her, yo?”

Gearing starts laughing as he waves it off with a hoof. “Hey, I’m telling you it’s a bad idea, and you should tell your leaders to drop it. But, if you’re really looking to commit suicide, it’s not my place to stop you. Go for it.”

The yellow buck eyeballs Gearing before rolling his eyes and looking off in a decidedly different direction as he keeps his forehooves folded behind his head. “Yeah, no, not interested, yo. I’m not one of you suicidal Halfhearts. I actually like livin’, yo.” He waves a hoof dismissively towards Megamart as he continues with scorn, “It’s why I’m not touchin’ this fuckin’ contract neither, yo. I’m not stupid and this’ll likely lead to me getting’ killed!”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “I’ve been having concerns about it as well. Probably a double cross.”

The yellow buck spits off to the side in a nicker before he says dismissively, “Yeah, I’m not worried about that, yo… We could handle a double cross attempt… But Security would kill me. I’m not messin’ with that mare, yo.”

Gearing raises his head as he tilts it and looks at the yellow buck. “Why would Security kill you?”

The yellow buck and the griffon look at each other as he asks, “You don’t know? Really, yo?” He looks around as he says with a laugh. “I s’pose it does take a bit for that to get out… with the number o’ idiots tryin’ to keep it secret for a stupid edge on the competition.”

Gearing leans closer as he asks, “Don’t know what?”

The yellow buck grins at the griffon before leaning in and looking at Gearing. “The contract, yo? The bounty? The biggest bounty ever of all time, yo? You now who the mark is, yo?”

Gearing slowly shakes his head. “A white unicorn mare with a red and black mane, an alcohol problem, and a horn so small you’d think she was an earth pony?”

The yellow buck raises a hoof high in the air as he laughs. “Ding. Ding. Ding!” He brings it down and points it at Gearing. “And, given that you already know that, but still don’t know who it is, you’re obviously not from around here, yo!” He tilts his head and lets his tongue hang out a bit as he savors the sudden revelation. “That’s Security! The bounty is on the security mare!”

Gearing’s eyes go wide behind the cloak’s cowl as he stares at the yellow buck, who simply hangs his tongue out and laughs as he does so. The buck with the red slash tattoos under his eyes is blatantly enjoying Gearing’s reaction way too much for this to be a joke. The joke, quite obviously, is on Gearing for not already knowing.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head sits down, rolls a newspaper into a giant cone, puts the oversized ‘dunce’ hat on, then starts bashing his forehead into a wall as he chants, Not a clever pony. Not a clever pony. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Gearing looks around, pulling back from the two, as he starts spinning around and looking at the others in the mob. “You… you can’t be serious!” He looks over at a group that’s standing right behind him that’s turned to look in his direction at the outburst. “The bounty is on Security?!”

There are a few murmurs from a couple of the individuals around, with a few of them swearing about how Gearing is being so loud about it, and a few others seemingly only just now realizing it as well. But, among it all, a few actually do do the unthinkable, and nod agreement.

Gearing slowly turns as he looks at the mass around him as he screams, “What the fuck is wrong with all of you?! You’d really kill someone who’s trying to improve this shithole of a world?!”

A few stare on, unphased by the statement, as a few others look away in either consideration or shame.

A mare nearby doesn’t look at him as she replies defensively, “It’s a lot of money!”

Gearing looks over at her and asks, “Do you really think whoever put this fucking bounty out is really going to pay you?!”

An old gray buck in a tattered jacket walks up with a large spiked bat across his back as he yells at Gearing. “Yeah, I do actually! It’s backed by Usury from Paradise! So that’s at least half of it taken care of, more than enough to make it worth it.” He shakes his head as he says with a grin, “Them slavers don’t take kindly to someone declaring war on slavers all over Equestria. Was a stupid move on her part, so she’s gonna get what’s coming to her!”

Gearing growls as he slowly turns towards the others around him, “And what about the rest of you? Have you even considered that after you collect, that you’ll be a giant ass target yourself? Huh?!” He slowly spins around as he says, “And how about what happens if she’s gone? The world needs more mares like Security, not less!” He looks over at a group that won’t even look in his direction as he barks at them, “How many of your friends or family have been taken by slaving fucks? For them to be used and abused until they finally die? Huh? You want that shit to continue?!”

He slowly turns around as he looks at the others and says, “I don’t fucking believe this…”

Dandy pushes through the crowd, hearing the outburst, and stops just inside of the circle as she looks at Gearing as he spins one direction to the other and tries to plead his case. “What the hays going on over here?”

Gearing’s head zips over to her as he asks, “Did you know?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Dandy looks around as she tilts her head and studies those around them. “Tell you what?”

Gearing hops over to her and points over towards the buck with the ratty jacket. “That the bounty is on Security!”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she looks around. “You’re shitting me!”

Gearing shakes his head and looks over at the old gray stallion, who simply grins back as he asks, “Yeah, it is, so what of it?”

Dandy looks around at the others, then at Gearing as she says, “Oh the hell with that, I’m not taking part in this shit…” She stares at Gearing for a few moments as she asks, “You’re not going to, are you?”

Gearing shakes his head quickly. “No! Fuck that noise! I’m not going to kill one of the few hopes Equestria has to fucking survive and get better!”

Dandy looks around at the others and says flatly, “I don’t know about the rest of you… but there’s better bounties out there… Might not pay as much, but at least I know I’ll be able to sleep at night and live with myself afterwards.”

The gray buck with the tattered jacket cackles as he says, “Good! That’s less competition!”

Dandy takes a step back as she scrunches up her nose in revulsion, “Un-fucking-believable… You disgust me.”

Gearing looks over at him as he asks, “So, despite everything, and knowing that you’d end up having to kill someone who was just trying to help, you’re going to do it anyway?”

The old buck grins as he shrugs. “I don’t care, it’s all money to me. No skin off my nose.”

Gearing looks around at the others, spinning in a circle for some kind of support to see if anyone else would actually consider giving this up. But, he’s not seeing nearly as much in the way of reactions as he’d hope. And he, quickly, loses his patience.

The little blue pegasus pulls a book off of a shelf along the walls of his head and licks a feather before it quickly starts flipping through the pages. He pulls out a feather quill, dips the end in some ink, and looks over the edge of a pair of glasses as it asks, Shall we update the RoE?

Gearing slowly turns as he snarls, “Well, if your own lives are all that you care about… and fuck the rest of the world… then so be it.” He turns and looks at the old stallion in the tattered jacket as he slowly walks closer. “Then add this into your calculations on self-preservation, and maybe it will finally convince you to abandon this.” He looks side to side as he screams, “You don’t like those that kill slavers? Well I’m one too!” He spins around and starts walking back in the direction of Dandy as he says, “Any of you know about a little settlement called Tower’s Towing?” He looks left and right as he asks, “An old towing and salvage yard that was converted into a slaver encampment?” He spins back around to look at the old buck in the jacket as he says, “Selling ponies off to Red Eye, knowing they’re going to be worked to death? Sound familiar?”

He slowly spins around as he puts a hoof to his chest and says, “Well I killed them! I killed every.” He stomps on the ground with the same hoof. “Last.” Again. “One!” He pounds the ground again kicking up a scattering of rocks in the process. He starts pacing around as he says, “Oh yeah I did. I took down the whole operation by myself, and I’ll do it again! In fact!” He spins around and sneers at the old buck, “I’m pretty sure I have an even higher body count than Security.” He looks to the right as he says, “Because where she’s apparently nice enough to let one go here and there… I am not one for leaving survivors!” He starts walking around in a circle, causing the mass to move back a bit as he looks at each one as he passes, “So factor that into your ‘no skin off my nose’ bullshit!”

He hops into the center and rears up as he screams, “Because if any of you fuckwits hurt Security, and claim that bounty, I will find you, and I will kill you!” He slams his forehooves down hard enough that a slate rock slab breaks into splinters and goes scattering. “So if you think you can both take out Security, and stay away from me afterwards, I got news for you!” He spins around as he looks at the group as a whole. “You better try taking me down first! Because I’m way worse than Security ever even thought about being!’ He stomps towards the old buck and looks to his right as he screams, “So leave the baby-horned alcoholic for later, and I’m standing right here!”

“Sounds good enough to me!” the old buck with the tattered jacket jumps at him as a large blade flips out from a device clamped onto his foreleg like some powerhoof that’s had a mechanical mantis claw attached to it.

Gearing turns and spins towards the incoming attacker, but actually glides to the side and allows the buck to start passing, with his outstretched forehoof with the weird device on it passing harmlessly though now unoccupied space, as Gearing guides the blade away from himself with a left forehoof of his own. Gearing’s cloak flares out as his right forehoof turns as if he’s going to prevent the tip from hitting himself by sacrificing his right foreleg. But, as the blade passes into the pit of his right foreleg he brings his left forehoof up, while simultaneously bringing his right forehoof down. Resulting in his forehooves performing a scissoring action right in front of himself with barely an inch of clearance between them.

Unfortunately for the old buck, the action is performed just as his leg attempts to occupy the exact same space Gearing’s forelegs decide to pass through while traveling in opposing directions.

The end result is the buck’s foreleg making an incredibly loud snapping sound, with the bone quickly breaking and the lower portion, where the weapon is attached, poking a bone up and out through the flesh as the hardened metal proves an unyielding pivot point for the foreleg to be leveraged against by Gearing’s other foreleg.

The old buck’s voice instantly changes from a challenging roar of victory, from presumably thinking he’d successfully launched a surprise attack against a bragging obstacle to his perceived fortune. Into a sharp shrill cry of pain as he suddenly develops a bloody new articulation point, mid cannon.

Gearing’s body swirls around with his forelegs, as he steps in with his hindlegs, and jumps inwards towards the old buck’s body. The old buck’s shrill scream gets cut off as he lets out interrupted choking gasps as his body jerks back and upwards. But, each time he jerks back and upwards, it’s even further back without returning forward again before the next blow lands. After the third time it’s quite obvious that Gearing is holding the old buck aloft with a combination of pressures focused around the buck’s middle and lower chest.

Gearing twists to his left, throwing the buck to the side, while still standing vertically on his hind legs and staring down at his challenger from behind his cowl.

And that’s when what had just transpired becomes entirely visible to everyone around. The last one to become aware of what is fully going on, is the old buck himself. He looks down and screams out with blood spraying out of his muzzle, “How’d he stab me with my own leg!?”

His right foreleg has been manipulated around, with the weapon still blood free, mostly. But, instead of getting stabbed with his own weapon, as fitting as that may seem to some given what he’d just tried to do, instead Gearing had broken his foreleg bad enough to cause a compound fracture, and then stabbed the buck with the cannon bone fragment jutting out just above his fetlock joint. Repeatedly and while it was still physically connected to the rest of him via skin and muscle. On top of the leg weirdly being practically stapled to his own abdomen, with a bone from his own leg, he has two other gaping holes where, apparently, the same bone had already been painfully introduced before moving on to skewer himself a third and final time.

Gearing lowers his forehooves to the ground as he looks at those around him and fully expects someone else to try and jump in, to at least avenge their comrade, if not take the opportunity to remove a very clear and imminent threat to their greed.

But no one makes a move as they seem to be trying to sort out what they should be doing at the moment themselves. The yellow buck with his griffon friend seems to be enjoying the turn of events, as he casually sits back with his forehooves resting behind his head. But, he’s obviously no fool, and has already drawn out an electrical stun rod that he’s holding in his left fetlock as he watches the turn of events with interest.

Gearing slowly spins around, carefully stepping over the downed old stallion, as he says, “Next?” He walks around in a slow circle, looking at as many as he can before he comes full circle and stands in the very center of the mob of spectators. “I’ve killed slavers… I’ve killed raiders… I’ve killed bandits and those trying to rob, steal, and murder, simply because they can. So… if someone declaring war on slavers pisses you off… then please… please spread the word. And remember me… Because if you think Security is bad… I’m far worse.” He reaches up and pulls off his cowl so they can all see his face clearly, and it draws more than a few murmurs and gasps as he stares at them. “Look at my face! Get every detail right, and tell them to come and find me! Remember me!” He slowly turns his gaze down to the older buck as he scowls. “And remember to tell them who and what they are dealing with.”

From the recent trials he’s been through the once near obsidian dark gunmetal color chemical treatment has warped and lightened. Certain areas of his head seem to have blotches where the lighter color of his true brassy skin is being partially revealed. And that’s to say nothing of the various other gouges, scrapes, and dings that are currently shining through with golden clarity. Especially the cracked spider web formation on the left side of his head, centered on the ear, that seems to have spread out even more to cover most of the left side of his head.

Gearing turns around and looks down at the old buck as he asks, “So… how about you? Have I convinced you yet?”

The old buck groans and coughs up blood as he looks up at Gearing with one eye, “Go fuck yourself, you freak.”

Gearing walks closer as he says, “That’s right. I’m a freak… Hate me.” He puts his forehoof on the stallion’s head, and slowly starts applying pressure as he says, “Maybe you’ll be useful for convincing others… and save more lives in the long run…?”

The old gray buck spits at him, and tries to lift his head, but then starts groaning, and screaming as Gearing’s forehoof slowly starts pushing the old buck’s head into the ground. And after the ground decides it will yield no further to the intrusion, the stallion’s head starts almost visibly deforming around Gearing’s forehoof. Gearing leans down and looks at him as he asks, “Well?”

“That’s enough, you’ve proven yer point!” a mare’s voice calls out as she jumps through the crowd and stares Gearing down with her eyes narrowed. “He’s no match fer ya, we get it! Leave him alone!”

Gearing slowly turns his head as he looks at her, and finds it’s the mare that had came to intercept the ghoul that had accosted him earlier. He looks her over for a few moments before he asks, “And just why should I?”

Her eyes go wide, as she wasn’t expecting to have such a cavalier attitude tossed at her in response. She points a hoof at the old stallion as she says, “He’s not a threat to ya anymore. Ya shouldn’t just kill’em fer no reason.”

“When and if I kill anyone, it’s only for a very good reason… and he’s already proven to be a threat to others… If I do nothing now, he may well decide to try again later, or go after someone weaker and defenseless like the coward he’s already showed himself to be… If I simply leave him here, what good could possibly become of it?” Gearing asks as he looks right at her.

She looks back and forth as she gives a rather sweet smile. “Because fer the wastelands ta get better… we have ta do better… An’ we can’t do that if all we do is be hateful and mean ta each other.” She looks down at the old gray buck then up at Gearing as she shrugs. “There’s ‘nough violence in the wasteland as it is. The world needs more heroes in it.”

Gearing nods at her as he looks around. “I fully agree.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but Ah’m not gonna go after Security.” She waves a hoof at him. “Not even factorin’ you in, I respect her too much for that.”

Gearing gives a slight nod as he says, “As do I.”

She looks from his face, down to his hoof, that’s still applying ample pressure to the buck to keep him in place on the ground. “So?”

Gearing looks at those around as he asks, “So… where does that leave us? Well... Remember how I just got through saying that I’m far worse than Security?” He looks around and notices a few faint nods in response. He looks down at the buck under his hoof as he says, “Security would, possibly, forgive this jackass and go on her way…” He looks over at the mare that’d stepped out and spoken up. “Because she’s a hero.”

She smiles slightly and nods in agreement.

Gearing stares her in the eyes for a moment before directing his attention around at the group around them. “Well, I’m not a hero, I’m a gods’ damned executioner!” And with that he jerks his foreleg straight, forcing his strength through his foreleg, added by his weight that he more evenly distributes across all of his limbs instead of holding back, straight to the ground. Crushing the old gray stallion’s head in the process and suddenly silencing his groaning as he didn’t even have time to scream.

Her eyes go wide and she takes a step back in shock as she stammers, “W- why would you do that?! He was helpless!”

Gearing looks at her then around at the others as he steps away, leaving the smashed remains in full view for there to be no question whatsoever on what he’d just done. “Only because I made him that way.” He looks around at the others and points a hoof, the same bloody hoof he’d just crushed the buck’s head with, as he says, “If I let him go, you’d think I was some bleeding heart. That this was all a bunch of posturing and bluffing to get what I wanted…” He turns and looks at the other members of the crowd. After a few moments of silence he asks, “Are there any of you that still think I’m bluffing?” Gearing slowly turns around as he looks them all over, then says with a smug grin. “Good. Because I’m not… or at least you’re smart enough to not say so… Either way.” He points down at the corpse of the buck, then at his own face, with the same bloody hoof, as he says, “So remember the face, and let them know who the real threat is… and that I’ll be around.”

He approaches the crowd, towards Megamart, and the crowd parts for him, giving a respectable berth to the pony that’d just proven he could crush a pony’s skull with a single hoof. Though the yellow buck with the face tattoos gives him a friendly wave goodbye with his electric rod as he continues to lounge around.

Gearing gets a distance away from them, as most of the mob hangs back and seem grateful for the growing distance between them, before he gets called to a stop.

Dandy runs up to him as she flags him down. “Hey, yo!”

Gearing looks at her and narrows his eyes as he asks, “What? Want to give me a lecture on killing a ‘defenseless’ old buck too?”

She shakes her head as she slows down. “Are you kidding me? He just tried to kill you! That blade he has was a custom job and could have skewered a full momma radhog.”

He tilts his head then turns to look at her as he asks, “Then what?”

She tilts her head as she asks, “Well that was a pretty impressive performance back there… Buck next to me pissed himself when you splattered that guy’s head all over the ground…” She looks back at the mob and says quietly, “I think you’ve convinced quite a few of them to think things over. If not give it up entirely.”

Gearing grins as he says, “Good, then he wouldn’t have died for nothing.”

“That why you did it? To keep from having to kill others later?”

Gearing shrugs. “That’s over simplifying it, but not exactly wrong either. If nothing else, maybe I can draw some agro away from Security, while she sorts all of this out herself, by making myself a target...” He looks over at the mob and notices that some seem to be dispersing in various directions as he asks, “So, that gunner told me they operate by the contract, and if the contract’s no longer valid, then they don’t bother with it… You think if whoever put this contract out met an unfortunate end… that it’d be the end of it?”

She nods as she follows his gaze then returns back to looking at him. “Yeah, but it’d be a big mess to sort out that chain. Apparently it’s not just one, Usury is just the one who decided to double the reward after Security declared war on slavers.”

Gearing taps on his chin as he says, “Well… killing them is one way… or ruining them financially, so they can’t afford to pay such a high bounty anymore could do it…” He runs his hoof over the end of his muzzle as he mutters, “Or ruin their credibility...”

She giggles as she asks, “You suddenly thinking about doing some pro bono work?”

Gearing looks at her and grins as he says, “A wise friend of mine once told me, if you’re really good at something, to never do it for free.”

She nods and gives him a stern expression as she says in quiet reverence, “Yes. Very wise indeed. A sage even. Mmmhmm.” Then she smirks as she asks, “You up for some side gigs then? This area’s crawling with guilt-free bounties.”

Gearing points behind him towards Megamart as he says, “That entirely depends on how things go in here. I got a lot of other work to do… But if I run into something or think I’m free I’ll let ya know.”

As she goes off in a different direction on her own business, Gearing uses a puddle of water that makes his PipBuck lightly tick to rinse his hoof. After he makes sure he’s gotten his hoof clean, or clean enough, of the gory remnants of the stubborn earth pony buck, recently deceased, he flips the cowl of his cloak back on as he heads back into Megamart.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 25%

Gravity Differential alignment at 37%

Gravity Differential alignment at 50%

50 Credits and Creeds

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As a vertibuck barely touches down in an artificial underground cavern, a small pegasus in a full-body flight suit jumps from the side door of it, causing the aircraft to noticeably rock midair from the sudden change in load it was hauling. The small pegasus hovers for a moment, giving a friendly hoof wave towards the cockpit as the craft turns and leaves, before flying towards a blue pegasus in a Shadowbolts officer’s uniform that’s busy fluttering from one piece of war machinery to the next. The flight suit the little pegasus is wearing has been tightened down to his form with a few extra belts, crisscrossed like a harness, that helps to eat up the slack as one hasn’t been tailored for him specifically yet. Their wings are kept within little cloth pouches that flap back and forth loosely in the wakes of their efforts. And, even under all of that cloth, is an obvious wet suit that covers his entire body, forming his tail into a solid mass at the end and plasters his mane to his head. His gaze is masked by a pair of large welding goggles that prevent anyone from seeing his eyes, or the upper part of his face, that he’s wearing over the flight helmet that covers up the majority of his head. His muzzle is encapsulated by a flight mask with a rebreather set into it and a speaker for normal communication. The little pegasus in the oversized flight suit hovers over the plating of one of the tank tread’s armor plates and starts landing. But then shakes his head and lands next to the tank before calling up towards his commander.

“Rainbow Dash, Ma’am. Reporting for duty!” Gearing’s voice calls up cheerfully, though his voice comes across rather modulated by the electronics and speakers on the outside of his rebreather mask.

She looks over at him as she runs her hooves over one of the tank’s side machine guns and smiles. “Why’d you decide against standing on the tank? It won’t bite.”

Gearing points at it with a hoof and tilts his head. “I didn’t want to risk breaking it…”

Rainbow Dash starts laughing as she zips over and starts flying over him. “They aren’t that brittle! Go ahead!”

Gearing looks at her, then up at it, and grins before he jumps in the air, and flaps his wings just enough to come in for a gentle landing on the tank’s armor plating above its left tread.

As the tank’s hull sinks just a bit more from the added weight, Rainbow Dash curls up in the air and starts laughing. It could quite obviously take far more than what he was adding, especially in the way he added his own mass, but the fact that the shocks allowed a noticeable dip makes Gearing’s head hang low before he quickly jumps back off to the side of it.

She waves it off before she beckons him to follow her and travels toward a massive service elevator in the side wall behind the tanks. As she’s landing in front of the gate she looks at him and smirks, “We’re going to have to figure out a way to do something about your weight eventually.”

Gearing looks at her and dead pans through his muzzle’s speakers, “As soon as you can, please, Ma’am.”

This just makes Rainbow Dash laugh even louder as she steps into the opening elevator and uses her badge on a glowing ward near the level controls. A moment later the elevator begins descending even further as she says, “Then there’s the matter of your shell… We’re going to have to figure out a few more options for you in general. You’re still up for more testing, right?”

Gearing nods as he grins, though it’s impossible to see behind that mask. “Anything that’d help! Just let me know when and where to be, and I’ll be there, Ma’am.”

A flash of light bursts to life to Gearing’s left as he’s facing Dash, and he instantly swings around, putting himself between the burst of light and her. He snarls at the new arrival while crouching down in preparation to pounce, “Whoa! Who are you!?”

The startled green unicorn mare with smoke trailing off of her blinks a few times, and the smile that was on her face instantly disappears into a look of fear as her eyes jump towards the small pegasus soldier obviously preparing to attack her. “Transportation assistant Canary Three!” she yelps in response.

Dash snickers and waves her forehoof, then taps on Gearing’s helmeted head with it a few times as she says, “I called her. Transportation assistants are needed to get to our next stop… there’s no direct way to get there.” She giggles again and looks at the green mare whose eyes are still quite wide and focused on Gearing’s tensed posture. “Sorry, I should have said something sooner.”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at Dash and asks, “Soooo… she’s okay?”

Dash giggles again and gives him a noogie as she says, “Yes… she’s one of the good guys.”

Gearing instantly relaxes and waves a forehoof nonchalantly. “Oh… okay.” He looks at the green mare and gives her the biggest friendliest smile he can conjure up across his muzzle, which does nothing to help since she can’t see it behind his rebreather. “Sorry for the confusion. Just wasn’t expecting you.”

“R-right…” she nods rapidly before daring to take her eyes off him and looking at Rainbow Dash. “Ma’am… you’re communication said you’d need three of us… but there’s only two of you… Is that really necessary?”

Dash smirks at her and points at Gearing. “See if you can transport him first… just him…”

She nods as she regards Dash with a questioning tone, “Ooookay…” She turns to look at Gearing and her horn glows, enveloping Gearing for only a moment before the light dies out entirely. Her eyes grow larger as she asks, “How can he possibly weigh-”

“Get me there, then have two of the other transportation assistants get him,” Dash interrupts her and gives her a stern glare.

The green mare nods quickly and in a flash both her and Dash disappear.

Gearing looks around quickly, head whipping one way then the other as he tries to figure out what’s going on. A moment later a pair of flashes appear between him and the exit door, causing him to spin around and stare at them.

A peach stallion and a yellow mare unicorn stare back at him. The stallion raises a hoof quickly and says, “Before you say, or do anything… Dash sent us. I’m Canary one, and this is Canary Eight. We’re here to take you to the assembly hall.”

Gearing nods and waves a hoof at them. “As long as Dash is going to be where you’re taking me, I don’t see any problem.”

They both look down at him, then at each other, before the mare unicorn asks, “And… if she’s not there…?”

Gearing looks her in the eyes and narrows his own as he grumbles through the speakers, “Then we will have a big problem…”

She looks over at her companion and asks with a nervous chuckle, “How can such a small pegasus be so intimidating?”

Canary one looks at her and rolls his eyes. “He’s one of Dash’s, so that’s kind of a stupid question.”

Canary eight’s horn flares, causing a similar glow to appear around Gearing and her smile entirely falls off of her face as she says in wonder, “And Canary Three wasn’t joking… it is going to take both of us.”

Canary one looks at Gearing and asks, “You ready?”

Gearing waves towards him with a hoof. “Lead the way.”

Whatever Gearing had thought magical teleportation was going to be like, this certainly wasn’t it.

He appeared just as the pair of Canary named transportation assistants had both promised and intended. Right side up and not far from Rainbow Dash, who was sitting not far away down the length of a hallway that leads off from this large circular room that seems to serve as the teleportation landing zone for the Canary’s to come and go with whomever they wish and allow.

But the process of getting teleported leaves Gearing disoriented and discombobulated as his legs wobble around and he has a hard time readjusting to the world as a whole. He’s not sure what that smell is. The smoke emanating from his body. The blots over his body aren’t exactly scorch marks. They’re something else. Something he’s not exactly pleased with. The world seems to come to him in a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes moving around independently of each other before they slowly coalesce into a single solitary image: reality.

Dash’s smirk fades off her face as she watches him stumble around a bit. “You okay there, Gearing?”

Gearing shakes his head and then looks over at her. “Yes ma’am, Dash, ma’am.”

She trails her eyes over him a bit before motioning with her head behind herself and further down the stone hallway. To which Gearing quickly complies and joins her as she continues to lead the way. “I’m glad you haven’t tried taking those goggles off yet. The rest of you is still a bit rough to cover up. Hopefully we’ll get the synthetic hair figured out sooner than later.” She looks at him and gives a sheepish smile as she asks, “I hope you don’t mind us going through the process of hiding what you are…”

Gearing shakes his head rapidly. “No. Believe it or not I’m actually happy with this. If you can make me look like a normal pegasus, I’ll be even happier.” He hops and skips as he grins. “If you could actually make me a normal pegasus, I’d be thrilled in fact! So no offense taken, at all, Dash, ma’am.”

Rainbow Dash nods a few times as she looks down the hallway. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay with it… It’s always good to keep something hidden up your sleeve incase you need it for later… speaking of which…” She looks at him and nods down the hallway. “I’m going to be introducing you to some folks… and I want you on your best behavior, understood?”

Gearing nods and hops in the air enough to catch up to her as he looks at her and salutes. “Yes ma’am, Dash, Ma’am!” He falls back in stride to keep up with her as he says, “You won’t have any problems out of me, I promise!”

She stops in her tracks, spins, and puts a hoof to his chest as she starts poking him. “No, you don’t understand… I want you at your best… I know how you are. I’ve figured that out with my background checks of you. You normally run around and try to be all humble and meek and as unnoticeable as possible…” She points a hoof down the hallway. “This is not the time for that. This is not the time for humility… They need to know that you are capable of doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done.”

Gearing looks back and forth before tilting his head and asking quietly, “What needs to be done, Ma’am?”

Dash grins at him and shrugs. “I don’t know yet… but they don’t know either…” She shakes her head. “But, that’s not the point… the point is the attitude… the willpower to see it through… Whatever it is… you understand me?”

Gearing looks back and forth before asking, “So… I need to do what it takes to impress them…?”

Dash bobs her head around before saying, “More like earning their respect. Think you can do that?”

Gearing opens his mouth to say something. Pauses. Scrunches up his face for a few moments, then looks at her as he plasters a massive grin across his muzzle, again entirely out of view of anyone despite his best intentions, “You betcha, Commander!”

Dash pops him on the chest with the back of her hoof as she nods approval. “That’s what I’m talking about… Now come along, let me introduce you to some ponies.”

Gearing follows along as she leads him down the rest of the hallway until the thick doors at the end slide into the walls and this side tunnel empties out into a massive artificial cavern with pillars at regular intervals helping support the ceiling. As they are walking across what looks like a smooth landing pad surface towards a collection of ponies milling around a large collection of crates, Gearing can’t help but notice their odd equipment.

A pair, standing off by themselves, are covered from head to tip of tail in their black and gray suit. Not a single hair can be scene. Their faces are covered by some kind of mask with large goggles and the muzzle enveloped by a respirator of some sort. The suit looks like some kind of cross between the combat armor he’s seen on so many Equestrian Defense Force soldiers, and a biohazard suit used to protect ponies from contamination. He’s not sure what their jobs are, but is pretty sure it’s important if they’re that confined.

Off to the left as Gearing and Dash are approaching the main group, a unicorn mare, with a brownish gray mane and a pelt somewhere between an off white and a light gray, hovers a tool and works on a vertibuck with a yellow cream earth pony mare that has her grayish opal mane tucked into her patrol cap as the pair constantly argue among themselves as they seem to have taken the flying contraption almost halfway apart. Or are in the process of putting it back together. It’s hard for Gearing to tell given the number of parts scattered around the device.

Gearing continues at a trot as Dash flies on ahead and begins talking with a few members of this unknown unit. All of them are wearing the same general type of full body suit as the odd pair Gearing first noticed, though most of the others have their helmets and headgear off.

As he gets only a couple dozen paces away, Dash flies back over towards Gearing and lands near him as she motions sideways at him with a hoof. “And this… is the one I’ve been telling you about…”

Every member of the unit turns to look at her, and give her their undivided attention, and then, simultaneously, they all turn and stare straight at Gearing. Including the two mechanics that pause cursing at the broken vertibuck, and each other, long enough to see what the big deal is supposed to be about.

Gearing slowly looks them over and sits down as he gives them a wide grin, though, yet again, they can’t even see his attempts at being friendly thanks to his mask, and waves with a forehoof at the group as a whole.

A large ocher stallion stands up off of an ammo crate, rising even taller than he was before, which is saying something considering his head was already poking out above the others while he was sitting. He steps through the crowd of his squadmates, who respectfully move out of his way to allow his passage, as he asks with a deep rich voice that practically seems to boom out from his chest cavity, “Commander, you have got to be kidding me.”

Dash shakes her head. “Nope. This is what I promised you.”

The ocher buck rubs a hoof through his mane as he groans in deep rumbling tones. “Okay, Dash, come on, let’s be real here.” He starts walking towards her as he doesn’t pay much attention to the small pegasus in the flight suit that was obviously designed for someone much bigger. “This isn’t a place for one of your pranks. You know this is a restricted area… What, are you going to wipe the poor kid’s memory after you’re done? That’s kinda messed up, Commander.”

Dash grins even wider and shakes her head. “This isn’t a prank, Tower. This is your potential new member.”

Gearing has slowly stood up as the ocher buck’s gotten closer. He’d noticed the completely dismissive attitude being directed at his presence rather quickly. And he’s not liking it. Not one bit. He slowly turns his head to look at Dash, who glances at him sideways. After they’ve locked eyes, Dash gives him her smug smirk and gently waves a hoof towards the group as a whole. Yet she says nothing as she looks at Gearing out of the corner of her eye.

In his mind he replays and hears a conversation they just had.

So… I need to do what it takes to impress them…?

More like earning their respect.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

Gearing’s head whips over towards the ocher buck, that’s still walking towards Dash, and proceeds to jump in front of him, placing himself in between the two as he yells, “Hey! You! No neck!”

The ocher buck looks over at Gearing and raises an eyebrow as he momentarily pauses.

Gearing puffs up his chests and ruffles his feathers as much as he can, though the effect is dampened slightly thanks to his wing sleeves, as he yells at the ocher buck, “Don’t just stand there talking down to me because of my size! Dynamite comes in small packages, you know! Don’t underestimate me or you’re gonna regret it.” He starts bouncing around on all four hooves simultaneously as he hops and yells, “You wanna go? Huh?! Let’s go! I’ll rip your head off and shit down your neck!”

He hops up, fluttering and fluffing out his wings as he waves his forehooves around. “I’m not little, I’m almost three feet of pure death! I got lightning in one hoof, and thunder in the other! I will. Fuck. You. Up!!!!”

The other members in the unit start snickering as they look at the pint sized pegasus hopping around, floofing out, and posturing in front of a stallion that’s more than twice his height. One of the pegasi in the group, a light cobalt blue mare hovering above the others, puts her hooves to her mouth and giggles as she says, “That’s so adorable! Look at him trying to be all vicious!” Her chartreuse eyes going wide and practically sparkling at the sight.

The ocher earth pony looks down at his tiny challenger and rolls his eyes as he starts stepping around him and continues on towards Dash. “Come on, Commander. There’s pranks and fun, and then there’s dangerous situations. The little buck could get hurt down here. This ain’t a place for kids you dress up in flight suits.”

“The only one gonna get hurt is you!” Gearing bellows as he jumps over back in front of the ocher stallion. He uses his momentum, and squats down, before jumping up at the large earth pony. He adds extra momentum, and guidance, to himself by giving his wings a timely snap upwards with his leg powered jump.

Gearing’s right forehoof connects with the earth pony buck’s jaw with a full gazelle punch. Causing the buck, who was, all the way until the point where Gearing actually connected, looking at him casually with a raised eyebrow of dismissal, to suddenly shift his gaze, unwillingly, in an odd angle off to the side as the force of the blow spins his head over ninety degrees to his right, and rotated, as the jaw seems to have become slightly unhinged.

The ocher stallion’s eyes go wide and start looking randomly at various things, while simultaneously looking at nothing, as he staggers and wavers sideways. After a few horrid attempts at keeping his footing he falls over and lays there with his tongue hanging out as he lets out a gurgling gasp from his throat.

Gearing zips over quickly. As he’s standing over the stallion’s face, with a hind hoof on each side of their head, he points down at their bewildered eyes with both wingtips as he screams, “You’ve been Thunda struck!”

The others in the unit freeze in place, all mirth gone as they try to process exactly what just happened.

Gearing’s focus jumps over to the rest of the unit as he yells, “Who else wants some?!” He hops off the ocher stallion and starts stomping towards where the other nearly dozen ponies stand around gaping at the scene. They start moving back a bit, preparing to scatter, as he yells, “Gonna talk trash because of my size? Huh?! I’ll show you!”

Dash, not being able to say anything because of the roaring laughter she’s unleashing, zips over and grabs hold of Gearing around his chest with her forelegs to try and pull him back. But, he pulls out of her hooves, after he’s dragged her several feet, and she ends up grabbing hold of the harness of straps around his neck and chest, pulling on the belts holding down his flight suit like a yolk as her hind hooves steadily slide across the ground despite her apparent best efforts.

The group actually jumps back and scatters a bit as they keep an eye on this strange one that Dash seems entirely incapable of physically holding back as he advances into the space where they were all standing just a few moments before.

Dash finally manages to choke out with tears in her eyes as she’s continuously dragged across the stone floor, “Wait! Stop! Heel! Down boy!” She jerks on the harness like a collar a couple of times as she’s still laughing, “That’s enough, you’ve proven your point!”

Gearing stops mid stride, turns his head to look back at her, then nods and sits down as he says flatly, “Okay.”

The light cobalt blue pegasus mare from before flutters by over head as she looks down at him and comments, “‘Okay’?! That’s it? You go from ready to murder everyone to sitting as pretty as you please at a simple request?!”

Gearing looks at her as she flies over head. “Well, she said stop, so I did. Apparently I achieved my mission objectives.”

A slight squeaking comes from the shadows, but no one really seems to be paying much attention to it. Except Gearing.

His ears twitch around and he looks in the direction of the noise as he tilts his head. “Well, yeah, I’m not going to just lay someone out for no reason…” Everyone stares at him seemingly confused by his statement so he adds, “I was told I needed to make sure my abilities were well known…” He points a hoof at the punch drunk stallion as the raven black unicorn of the group short teleports over to him and starts administering some healing to his head. “He dismissed me as a threat because of my size, so I showed him what I can do…”

They stare at him for a few moments and he adds, apparently entirely out of context, “If Dash orders something, I’m going to do it to the best of my ability…”

A few seconds later he adds, “Yeah, I can hear you, why?”

All of their eyes go wide, and a split second later a poof of black smoke appears among the group as a flying pony hops out of the shadows and looks at Gearing face to face with a grin. The graphite gray stallion with indigo mane would seem like a normal pegasus. Even with his butterscotch yellow eyes that seem to glow in comparison to the rest of him. If it wasn’t for the fact that they have the vertical pupil formations of cats or snakes… Then there was the webbed bat like wings with what looks light strips of leather between the bones, with nary a feather in sight… and, to a lesser degree, the tufts of hair poking out of the points of his ears.

Gearing can’t help thinking they’d probably get away with being a pegasus, easier than Gearing would at least. As, if nothing else, he’s pretty sure this strange fellow has a pulse.

Unlike Gearing.

The tuft-eared stallion tilts his head and continues squeaking and chittering in a high pitch that’s barely even perceivable to the others as Gearing sits and gives him his undivided attention. After a bit Gearing waves at him a bit and says, “Whoa, slow down. I can make out what your saying, but not if you talk too fast.”

A pegasus mare with a bluish gray coat, and her dark gray mane cut short, flies around with the light cobalt blue mare as they examine the new arrival but stops her circling as she asks, “Whoa, whoa, whoa… you can hear him without his medallion?”

Gearing looks up at her and points at his left ear. “His voice is just higher pitch than most… I can make it out pretty fine… I mean it’s not even in the range of annoying like certain electronics I keep hearing and everyone insists I’m making it up.”

The tuft-eared pony nods rapidly, points at Gearing, and looks over at the flying mares before he blows a raspberry at them. He looks over at Gearing, and then stands next to him as he uses his leathery wingtip to measure their relative height.

Gearing rolls his eyes, making sure to do so with his whole head given the goggles he’s wearing, to make it apparent, before he says, “Yeah… you’re taller than me too.” He uses his own wing to test and says a bit quieter, “Though not by much it seems…” He gets a few squeaks in response and Gearing asks as he tilts his head, “Skip, huh?”

The tuft-eared pony nods a few times.

Gearing nods and presents his right forehoof towards him, causing the graphite gray pony to pop away into black smoke and appear a few feet away as he’s staring at Gearing’s hoof. Gearing shakes his head and waves it away. “I wasn’t gonna hit ya, Skip… sorry for the scare.”

Skip hops out and puffs up his chest as he loudly squeaks in defiance and shakes his head.

The bluish gray mare hovering above them all rolls her eyes as she waves a hoof at Skip. “Skip, turn on your damn amplifier if you’re going to talk around us so we know what the hell you’re saying.”

His response, is a full blown raspberry in her direction, followed by incessant squeaky giggling.

Gearing waves it away as he keeps looking at Skip. “Besides, unless you got within hoof reach there’s no way I could touch you, let alone hurt you. You could probably just out run me.”

Skip slowly turns his head towards Gearing and squeaks a few times as he tilts his head.

Gearing bobs his head around. “I’m not fast, but have pretty good reflexes… so... yeah, I think I could.”

Skip grins and taps a button on his chest with a small gem inset into it, then says in the tone of a whisper, but magnified to carry much further than normal, “Up for a challenge?” The voice, even whispered, comes across in a soft spoken musical tone.

Gearing stares right at him and taps on the floor with his forehoof. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Skip disappears in a puff of smoke, and appears behind Gearing’s left haunch, taping him gently with a forehoof as he says, “Over here”, before popping away again.

The others start backing away as the light cobalt blue mare rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. “Skip’s at it again…” She looks over at Gearing and waves a hoof at him. “Give it up already; no one’s ever been able to catch him with just a hoof or a wing when he’s on guard. He can pop away quicker than you can turn to look at him.”

But, comically so, Gearing quickly ends up turning this way and that as Skip jumps around him from one puff of dark smoke to the next. Smacking and tapping along Gearing’s flanks and sides to get his attention. All the while giggling incessantly and giving his position away, intentionally, each time.

A light brown buck a bit shorter than the barely conscious Tower shakes his head at the display and heads over to talk with Dash quietly. The others talk among themselves as they watch the display. And, while Tower gets treated for his concussion and dislocated jaw, the pair talk and Gearing tries to so much as touch Skip.

The others sit down and watch. Some amused. Some not so much. But, as time goes on, and he shows no signs of either frustration nor giving up, they get a bit impressed. It normally only takes a few minutes for someone to admit they are no match for someone who can’t be touched.

But Gearing isn’t just anypony. And he’s not one for giving up.

He slows his movements and goes from actively trying to swing out at Skip with a hoof or wing, to simply try and look in the correct direction that Skip is attacking from. And, after a bit of watching his movements, is when Gearing finally decides to make his move.

Seriously.

He turns and looks over towards the direction where Dash is, at his front left, while throwing out his right hoof into the blind area of his front right. And, just as a dark ripple starts appearing in the peripheral vision of his left eye, he snaps his tail around like a whip in the general direction of the blur.

Instantly the large spaced cavern echoes out with the pained, and magnified, scream from Skip. Before he falls out of the air and crumples into a heap, howling the entire time.

“AAAGGHHHHHHHHH!”

Everyone turns to look and watches as he writhes around on the ground and bellows in pain. They start crowding around as Gearing turns towards him and puts his forehooves to his masked muzzle as he apologizes quickly, “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt him!” He looks around and waves towards him. “I think we need a doctor over here!”

The light cobalt blue mare flies down lower and asks, “Skip, what’s wrong, it didn’t look like he hit you in the butt that hard. What happened?”

He curls up with his hind end high in the air, with his forehooves as far back as he can, cupping his genitals, as he yells out with his eyes closed, “He got me right in the NUGGETS!”

She spits off to the side and starts snickering as they look over at Gearing who’s still waving his forehooves around frantically to try and get the poor suffering buck some aid. She grins at Gearing and points a hoof at Skip. “You’re a real ball-buster, huh?”

The other pegasus mare hovers next to her as she giggles, “Call’em Captain Cashew Cruncher!”

The unicorn that‘d been working on the vertibuck ran over when she heard the scream, but slows to a trot as she asks with a smirk, “Got his documents shredded huh?”

Skip rolls around and moans, loudly, “I think he gelded me… It feels like he gelded me!”

Gearing puts his hooves to his own cheeks as he blurts out, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to ball tap you!”

“‘Tapped’ hell, you knocked them into next Tuesday! Youchie momma!”

Gearing’s head whips over, and then up, as he looks at the light brown stallion, which had been talking to Dash, practically appear next to him. Gearing sheepishly taps her forehooves together as he says, “This one… this one was an accident…”

The buck looks over for a few long moments in silence as he examines Gearing.

Feeling the silence, except for poor Skip’s constant moaning and scraping of hooves as he rolls around, Gearing adds, “I was just trying to touch him as quickly as I could… not put him down.”

“So,” the light brown buck says as he runs a hoof through his brown mane, “You watched him, figured out a pattern to his movements… and took advantage of it as soon as you figured it out?”

Gearing blinks a few times, even though the buck wouldn’t be able to see it, before nodding. “Uh… yeah, how’d you know?”

He leans down towards him and asks, “Think you’re the only observant one?”

Gearing waves it away with a forehoof. “I’m not that delusional… no.”

The buck grins and slowly tracks his eyes over towards the raven black unicorn mare with the midnight blue mane that’s still tending to Tower, “Cross, could you take care of Skip?” He reaches over with a hoof and pokes Skip in the side a few times as he chuckles. “Just a potion or so to get him up off the floor… If he wants anything else he can drag his sorry ass to medical and have them patch his saddlebags for him.”

She gets Tower up into a seated position before heading over and passing a potion from one of her side pouches for Skip to drink, to him. She tilts her head, spilling the midnight blue mane over her other shoulder and, at this distance, her raven black pelt seems to have a bluish shimmer to it’s highlights as she looks at Gearing. “You keep this up, newbie, and we’ll need another medic just to handle the friendly fire accidents!”

“No way!” Bellows Tower. Everyone turns to look at him as he shakes his head and stands up. “We’re not calling him ‘Newbie’… and I’m calling dibs on naming this one!” He grins widely as he steps up next to the light brown buck. “He knocked the shit out of me!” He lets out a deep hearty laugh before he points a hoof over at Gearing and grins even wider as he says, “A lesson I won’t soon forget! ‘Dynamite comes in small packages,’ huh? Well then, this buck’s name’s Nitro!”

After sucking down the potion as quickly as it was offered, Skip’s whimpering falls off as he lets out a sigh of contentment as things back there knit back together.

Cross looks over at Skip, and then at Tower, before she looks back at Gearing. “You know… No one’s ever been able to beat Skip in a game of tag before…” She looks over at the light brown buck and adds, “That’s definitely something…”

The light brown buck looks over his shoulder at Dash. They exchange glances for a bit before she tilts her head. He gives her a light smile in return and bob’s his head before he turns back towards Gearing. He walks right up to Gearing and says, “I don’t know how much you’ve heard about us… But things around here aren’t run, or done, like they are anywhere else in Equestria. Think you can handle that, rook?”

Gearing taps on the ground with a forehoof. “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”

The light brown buck lowers his head down and gets face to face with Gearing slowly. But Gearing not only doesn’t seem intimidated at all, but he also neither moves to get out of range nor moves in to intensify the situation. Instead he just stares back into the buck’s light blue eyes through his own goggles. The light brown buck smirks as he says, “Well… just to warn you… things around here can get a bit… strange…” As he finishes saying that, a burst of green flame pops up around him in a cyclone, and as it subsides an identical copy of Gearing has taken his place, like Gearing is looking into a mirror. A burst of green fire flanks Gearing’s left and right side as the two ponies that were in full suits also turn into copies of Gearing. All three of them leaning in and grinning at him as they practically surround him on three sides.

The one in front of him examines Gearing’s posture and asks softly, “You’ve got fast enough reflexes to do something… and you didn’t… So you don’t startle very easily… do you…?”

Gearing nods. “It’d take quite a bit to actually startle me… or a potential threat to me or someone for me to even react… But if you’re all a bunch of strange ponies… and we’re all in the army now… I guess then this makes us… Good Company?” Gearing asks with a smirk at his own horrid pun, as he pulls the goggles up onto the helmet over his brow and stares at the lead doppelganger with his true brushed copper eyes. He leans in closer to the copy as the many thin sheets of metal that make up the aperture that functions as his eyes’ irises contract and relax, causing the pupil in the center to mechanically grow and shrink in size rapidly as he looks them over.

The three copies actually recoil from the sight as they try to figure out how to handle this.

But the lead one recovers fastest as he smirks, “Oh… I think this is going to work out just fine…” He looks over at Dash as he changes back into his light brown pelted form he was in originally. He stares at Rainbow Dash as he nods slowly and comments, “With some basic training, and education, first that is… but that’s easy enough given the resources at our disposal.”

The other two flanking Gearing likewise revert to their previous forms of looking like ponies in armored biohazard suits.

The lead light brown buck slowly backs up as he says, “I think introductions are in order…”

Gearing waves a forehoof as he flips the goggles back over his eyes and points a hoof over towards the large ocher stallion. “Well… Just call me Nitro.”

Skip leans over sideways, resting a foreleg elbow across the back of Gearing’s shoulders as he points towards the light brown buck. “That’s not exactly what Hard Hat meant…” Skip comments in the same soft musical voice as he taps Gearing’s face mask over his cheek a few times before getting down and looking in the direction of the light brown buck.

Hard Hat waves a forehoof towards those around him as he yells out, “Stormfront… Who are we?!”

As one, the voices of those around him come together in harmony. Even the two mechanics had abandoned their tasks, to see what was going on, and have started moving in with the group as they join in. The two pegasi mares that had been fluttering around above, have likewise landed among their fellow squadmates. And, as one, they all respond to their commander’s calls.

“We are the first, and last, line of defense. We are the best hope for equinity. We live in the shadows so others may know peace. We are the dark shield that protects and the keen blade that keeps evil at bay.”

“We are that which makes monsters afraid of the dark.”

“And, what are we?” Hard Hat asks as he slowly takes a step forward, with his eyes trained straight on Gearing.

“Swift. Silent. Deadly,” the unified reply answers.

Hard Hat takes another casual step as he asks, “What do we do?”

“We quell the storm, and ride the thunder unto victory.”

Gearing looks around at the others as they have all, each and every one of them, developed a massive grin as they look at their commander and follow his lead as he asks, “And what matters?”

“Deeds, not words,” comes the snap reply of the congregation.

“What is our goal?” he asks as he gets ever closer to Gearing.

“Peace through strength.”

Hard Hat looks around at those around him and Gearing and asks, “So, how far will we go?”

“Where and whatever it takes.”

He takes the last couple steps, closing the distance and stopping in front of Gearing, and asks, “Why?”

“Because the only easy day, was yesterday.”

Hard Hat looks down at Gearing as he asks flatly, “So?”

And in unison, Hard Hat, along with everyone else of the unit, yells out loud enough that the artificial cavern echoes, “Today we fight for a better tomorrow!”

And, like that, all of the other members of the team rear up before erupting in a hoof stomping applause. Synchronized to each other such that it actually causes the rumble to travel much further than it might have otherwise.

Hard Hat grins as he lowers his head down a bit to look at Gearing. “Welcome to Stormfront.”

To this apparently official statement, the others cheer as Tower jumps over and throws a foreleg across Gearing’s much smaller shoulders. “Nitro, you and me are going to have so much fun my friend! I can’t believe you knocked me the fuck out with a single blow! I got so much to teach you!” He starts patting him on the back harder and harder as his rich deep laugh bellows out in amusement.

Hard Hat looks Gearing over and nods at him as he says, “You don’t have to keep those goggles on down here, if you don’t want. There’s no reason to hide. You’re among friends now.”

Gearing looks over at Rainbow Dash as he audibly grumbles. She shrugs and waves a hoof towards him in an expression that, like in many instances, makes it clear she genuinely doesn’t care what’s decided. So Gearing looks at Hard Hat and says with a sigh, “I’m not a fan of the goggles, but they might be needed until they figure out how to fix my eyes.”

Cross pushes the others out of the way as she slides in front of him, actually getting between him and Hard Hat in the process as she asks, “What’s wrong with your eyes? May I see? Maybe I can help?”

Gearing looks up at her and shrugs. “Sure, others haven’t been able to figure it out, maybe you can.” He takes off the goggles and lets them hang from his neck as he looks up at her.

She leans in close as she looks from one of his eyes to the other and asks, “What’s… exactly wrong? I won’t ask about how they got this way… but… what do you need done?”

Gearing actually perks up at not having to explain himself again so soon. “I just need them to not be so… noticeable…” He looks over at the biohazard suit wearing pony next to him and points at his own eye with a wing. “I’m sure you get what I mean… at least you can hide yourself.”

They rapidly nod then look over at Cross for some kind of guidance.

Cross clicks her tongue a few times then nods as she turns around. “I think I can probably come up with something. I just need to go through a few books and see what others have tried already.”

Gearing’s ears perk up as he asks with a wide grin, “Books? What kind of books? Mind if I give them a look?”

Cross grins at him and asks, “Ooohhh? Another bibliophile, huh?”

Gearing shrugs. “I just like to learn new things.”

Dash appears above them in a cyan blur as she rapidly crosses her forelegs together demanding a time out. “Oh no! You’re not making him an egghead! He’s mine! Mine I say!”

Cross giggles and looks up at her. “Oh I’m sure I can find enough manuals on weaponry and tanks to keep him interested with sufficiently ‘awesome stuff’ that even you’d approve.”

Dash puts a hoof to her chin as she gives it some consideration. “Yeah… tanks are pretty radical…” She looks over at Gearing. “Okay… well... you go ahead and look through those and… if you find any interesting bits, let me know the good stuff so I don’t have to waste time with the boring parts.”

Gearing grins up at her and gives her a salute as he says, “Yes, Ma’am!” before he continues on across the underground cavern towards an equipment storage area Cross is leading him to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing, still concealed within his ratty cloak, walks around in the Megamart shopping area very slowly, taking in the sights, smells, and, of course, the opportunities. Such as the opportunity to get blown cleanly in half by Gun, who he learned, just as advertised by that security guard Keystone, is a large turret perched on the ceiling keeping an ever watchful eye on everyone. He’s not sure how they managed to get this practical navel cannon in this one time shopping center. Nor how they got it mounted on the ceiling like they did. But he is rather impressed with the execution of it, especially given their apparent lack of resources. But, if his estimates are correct, they are probably firing solid-round ‘slugs’ out of it. Otherwise the entire place would get demolished by a single high explosive round from that thing if it was ever fired in here. He highly doubts the rows of paletted or piled scrap would do much more than simply act as additional shrapnel for such blasts. Instead of how he remembers such stores being in the past, this one seems more like a flea market. Or maybe a junkyard. A very nicely organized junkyard, but still a junkyard nonetheless. Either way it’s definitely a tinkerer’s wonderland.

And, as he finds out from eavesdropping on every conversation he walks past, it apparently had been fired. Recently. Practically demolishing some poor sods booth in the fight that took place inside just a couple days ago. Some of the conversations don’t really make sense to him. A pair of uppity dressed mares walking around talking about the excitement of their trip slumming it, makes no sense to Gearing. Along with the horde of armed guards around them as they go about their business of being obnoxious. But, as he’s walking down an aisle along the outer wall his nose perks up and he sticks his muzzle out of the cowl as he starts sniffing around.

“Ohhhh yeaaah… I know that smell…” Gearing practically giggles as he starts weaving this way and that as he takes in long snuffs one way or the other. A few of the other patrons give him leeway and get out of the way as he wanders apparently aimlessly down the aisle. A few even turning and sniffing for themselves wondering what he apparently finds so appetizing.

Gearing walks past a salvage booth, sniffing about, and then circles back around to it as he snuffs wildly in the direction, walking back and forth and narrowing his focus as his nose sticks out of the cowl and leads the way to his goal. He rears up a bit, walking forward on his hind legs as he says with an unmistakable groan of desire, “Oh yeah… I know what that is!”

“Weeeeell I’m happy to see you too, but put the mouse back in the house, buck!” a mare’s voice giggles from the other side of the table.

Gearing quickly clamps his hindlegs together and covers himself with his forehooves as he looks down. But, it only takes him a moment to realize that she’s messing with him. Because even if his flag was at full mast, the ratty cloak he’s wearing would have blocked anyone’s view of such potential embarrassment. He gently sets his forehooves onto the metal shipping crates that function as the booths service desk and looks at her from under his cowl as he asks, “So, where’s the good stuff? I know you got it!”

A mare in a mechanic’s jumpsuit puffs on a cigarette that’s hanging out of her mouth as she wipes the other side of her face with a dirty rag, attempting to take off some of the oil from it, and only managing to smear the grease over a wider portion of her muzzle. “Well, unless you’ve completely lost your mind and your nose is broke, I’m going to assume you aren’t talking about a chem fix, otherwise that’s on the opposite side of the mall.” She walks over to the counter as she asks, “So, what are you looking for?”

Gearing leans over the counter snuffing audibly as he rocks this way, and that, earning him a giggling look from the shopkeeper as she puffs on her cigarette and enjoys the quick break. Gearing leans far over the counter then points at a box against the near wall that has a bunch of other equipment taken apart and scattered over the cloth that has it mostly covered. “I bet it’s in that! How much you want for that box?”

She turns sideways and looks at the parts on top of the container, then down at the old metal shipping crate that she’s been using as extra work counter space. “What, that box? Under all of that cra- err… fine merchandise just waiting for the right buyer?” She gives him a wider fake smile that she just can’t hold on her muzzle long enough for anyone to take it seriously. Let alone herself. She leans on the engine she was just working on as she points a hoof at the box. “That thing’s been here since I took the place over. It’s been here practically forever. The buck that had the booth said it came with the place when he got it.”

Gearing looks at it, then back at her as he asks, “Then… uh… how much for it?”

She looks over at the box, then at Gearing and grins around her cigarette as she says, “If you can get the damn box out of here, so it’s not taking up the floor space, I’ll let you have the whole thing for 100 caps… contents and all.” She puffs on the cigarette a few times before she grins. “But I don’t think you can, so consider this a bet… Pay upfront to even get a chance at it… And no trying to blast it open… we already have enough stuff getting destroyed because of those idiots after that bounty.”

Gearing slaps a small bundle of cloth onto the counter, with some pre-counted caps already ready, as he’s jumping over the counter with a grin. He hops over to the box as she looks at him, yelling, while grabbing the caps, “Hey! It’s customary to let somepony count out the caps first!” She quickly sets them out into groups of ten by sliding her hoof over the top of them all and spreading them out. She quickly grabs the cloth and stows it in one of her pockets as she grins. “Yup, were good. Have at, buck!”

Gearing quickly clears off the box of the various salvage as he continues snuffing and sniffing at the box. He carefully sets the items off to the side, in a neat grid pattern, as he lowers his nose over the box and giggles. “Oh you’re just what I need in my life right now!”

The mare lights a new cigarette from the tail end of the last one as she asks, “What’s got you excited? It reeks of motor oil, but that’s about it?”

Gearing giggles as he pulls out some tools and takes a look at the lock. He grabs the box, attempting to check its heft. And, as his hooves starts sliding upwards along the edge of the box, scraping at it as the box refuses to yield, the shop owner giggles as she says, “I told you it’s been here forever…” She smirks around her cigarette as she says, “Some clown wonder glued it to the floor… so good luck with getting it off.”

Gearing looks over at her and scowls before pulling out a few more tools and starting to work on the lock. His tools won’t even fit in the lock and he quickly becomes frustrated as not only does it seem like a difficult lock, but it seems like it’s being intentionally difficult to even work on.

“Oh.. yeah… And you’re not the first one to try to unlock it without the key either… some idiot along the line broke their tools on it and jammed it up pretty good in the process.”

Gearing looks over at her, and her wide smile, before he nods towards the box as he asks, “I bet you’ve made a lot of money from selling this box to a buncha folks.”

She grins widely around her cigarette as she says, “It’s not my fault they can’t take it with them.” She waves a hoof at him as she says, “By the way, if you leave it here, it becomes property of the store.”

Gearing clicks his tongue a few times as he goes back to looking at it. “Well, I’m not stupid enough to try explosives.”

Her eyes go wide as she says, “Hey, this is just a salvage shop, if you wanna blow up something, go hit up one of the weapon shops!”

Gearing gets to work on it and, after a while, he slowly starts pulling out small fragments of metal. And the biggest of them all is a twisted rusted piece of a bobby pin from someone’s failed attempt to pick it long ago. He holds up the fragment as he groans, “Gotta fix the lock before I can even try picking it…” Then he quickly goes to work with his other tools once he’s cleaned out enough of the interior to get access to the tumbler pins again.

The shopkeeper rolls her eyes as she goes about her business, of her business. Every now and then she looks over and watches as Gearing carefully works on the box. Most had given up long ago. They’d made too little progress and wasted too much time and would give up after they realized they’d been had. But Gearing seems especially dedicated to this task for some reason. And then the unthinkable happens.

The tools line up. The lock clicks. And Gearing lets out a squeal of victory.

“Come to poppa you beautiful thing you!” Gearing bellows as the lock flips open and the latch releases. Although, there’s a momentary pause in the celebration as Gearing has to use a miniature nail pulled to crack the seal along the lid of the box top. As it had been closed for so long, and so poorly treated, that it had developed a bit of corrosion along the lip that kept it rusted shut. But, after a deft application of torque, the metallic lid does indeed flip back and reveal its contents.

The shopkeeper turns around, ignoring the customer that had just walked up to the counter, and yells out, “How in the fuck did you get that open!?”

Gearing rubs a hoof on his chest as he grins up at her by poking the end of his muzzle out of the cowl. “Cuz I’m gooooood.” He turns around and sticks his head into the container, shaking his rear excitedly back and forth high in the air as he takes in deep whiffs of the source of the smell from near point blank. He lets it out in a long groan of pleasure as he says, “Well helloooo there…”

The shopkeeper walks over and looks down into the box, and tilts her head as she doesn’t see what the big fuss is about. Gearing looks up at her and his eyes dart back and forth, even though she can’t see it as he keeps his muzzle pointed in her direction and most of his head covered in the cowl. The metal shipping container has a collection of scrap electronics, a few bundles of wires, and a few other bits of things she deems of minor value. But, the thing that Gearing seems most excited about is the waxy cardboard box roughly a foot long, a foot wide, but only about four inches deep. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth as she asks, “What’s a M183?”

Gearing’s eyes jump back and forth again, and again behind the cover of the cowl, as he sees the still clear to read text across the top of the top box: M183 Assembly.

Gearing raises a hoof and wafts the smell of the box in her direction as he says, “Oh! M183 is the type of Em Arr Ee this is!”

Sooooo we’re hoping for completely stupid or ignorant with this one? Really? The little dark blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks with his forehooves crossed and a disbelieving look in his eyes.

She looks from the box to him as she raises an eyebrow. “Em Arr Ee?”

Gearing tilts his head. “You know… Meals Ready to Eat? Those prepackaged things that they gave the soldiers to eat while on the front line?” She tilts her head a bit then shrugs and nods, so he adds, “Well each one is different, with different foods and the like.” He waves a hoof as he says, “Bean burritos, spaghetti, red beans and rice, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera… This one, is recipe type number 183.” He looks down at it as he says, “It really wasn’t all that popular to eat because the production process makes it smell like motor oil and most can’t stomach it.”

She scrunches up her nose as she asks with unhindered disgust in her voice, “And you actually like that smell!? I can only imagine how it tastes.”

Gearing shrugs as he looks down at it. “Yeah… it’s a bit oily too. But it’s a bit of a favorite among smaller groups. Despite production limitations.”

She waves it away as she says, “Well, yeah, you can have all of that… blech.” She sticks her tongue out and shakes her head. “I don’t mind the smell while I’m working on it, and some does get in my mouth from time to time, but I can’t imagine wanting to eat a whole meal of it as well. The taste’s gotta be horrible!”

Gearing shrugs as he starts loading the various contents from the shipping crate into his saddlebags quickly. “I don’t know what else to say… I mean it tastes about as what you’d expect.” He shakes his head as he chuckles. “It’s not for everyone… I’m weird I know.”

She entirely ignores him as she starts giving the scavenger at the counter her attention and begins to haggle over a steam gauge assembly.

After Gearing gets everything else into his saddle bags, and only one more box remains in the bottom, he glances back at the counter, to make sure her line of sight is obscured, before he slowly opens the cardboard box while it’s still sitting in the bottom of the shipping container. The smile on his muzzle just gets even wider as he sees the familiar olive colored mylar film coated blocks packed neatly with their bright yellow text across its surface.

CHARGE DEMOLITION M112

(1-1/4 LBS COMP: 4)

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head flies around throwing confetti everywhere as he squeals with delight. M183 Satchel charges! Breech charges! Shaped Charges! I got it all baby! I love plastique! Aaawwww yeeaaahhh!

Gearing quickly closes and stows the last cardboard box under the cover of his cloak as he turns his head and calls over to the shopkeeper, “So, you really want this box gone or do you want to keep it and use it for storage?”

She looks at him and at the box as she shrugs. “Well, with it wonder glued to the ground nopony’s going to manage a snatch and grab with it, so it’d be good enough for storage, but nopony’s got the key for it. So it’s not all that useful.”

Gearing rubs his chin as he looks at it, then back at her as he asks, “Well, what if I rekeyed it for you? With the box open now, we can change out the lock or rekey it, if you want?”

She smirks and rests a foreleg on her improvised countertop as she asks, “Why? So you can sell the box back to me?”

Gearing grins at her then looks over at a pile of electronic scrap and wires. “I wouldn’t mind bartering… I could definitely use some more spare bits of wire for some projects that just fell into my lap.”

She chuckles and waves him away as she says, ‘Tell ya what, come back after hours and we’ll work something out. I’ve gotta make some more money now that the puzzles finally been solved.”

Gearing nods as he trots over past her, and jumps up and over the counter. He looks over at her after landing on the other side and asks, “Where would a buck find some decent armor around here?”

She shrugs as she chuckles. “No where?” She laughs and waves around. “I’m kidding. There’s some folks around that have decent bits of armor. Gotta look around though. But I’d start off in the next aisle over, there’s a couple booths that that seems to be all they focus on.

Gearing nods his thanks and quickly trots off as he looks over the stock of each booth as he’s passing by. The mare wasn’t kidding. Some booths seem to have pretty much everything. Others are specially tailored to one area of salvage or another. Some weapons booths have entire piles of grenades and mines just stacked up in crates. If it wasn’t for his recent acquisition he would be paying those particular piles of gold even more attention then he already was. But, he has a goal and a reason he needs to find a decent set of armor. First, his has been pretty much shredded. And it needs to be repaired or replaced entirely. But, he’s hoping to get an upgrade beyond that anyway. Which will require an entirely new suit.

Or, in his hooves at least, new and additional parts.

He heads down the next aisle as he keeps his head zipping back and forth. Around the middle of the aisle’s length, on the right side, Gearing notices a variety of equipment stacked upon itself. Some of it looking like patchwork armor, others looking like salvaged gear from the local police departments. An excellent place to start in Gearing’s opinion.

So he trots over and starts looking over the pile of equipment, when a mare yells from the other side, “Hey! Don’t you be thinkn’ of takn’ any o’ that without paying for it!”

Gearing’s head jerks up and he looks around as he tries to find the source of the voice.

“Yeah, I’m talking about you, you sneaky buck!” the disembodied voice bellows out.

Gearing looks around carefully, and then looks through a gap in the display where an angry looking mare’s eye glares out at him from her side of the display. “I’m not trying to steal anything, I’m just looking for a set of armor.”

She rolls her eyes, well, eye, as far as Gearing can see, and responds in a condescending tone, “Well the whole shop aint nothin’ but armor, so you don’t needa look that close to find a suit of armor!”

Gearing facehoofs as he groans. He pulls the hoof down his muzzle as he says, “I’m looking for a very particular type of armor. Not just any armor.”

Her eyes go wide as she looks around quickly and asks, “An’… you don’t see it out there?”

Gearing takes in the view for a bit before slowly shaking his head. Almost instantly the display rotates inwards and the older mare with a tool belt for a pauldron steps out as she looks at him. “Really now, huh? You don’t look like the Steel Ranger armor type, with all your sneakin’ ‘round… so what are you lookn’ for that I, apparently, don’t have?” she asks as she raises an eyebrow with a tone of indignation.

Gearing looks over at the armor for a bit as he says, “Well, it’s a bit of a long shot…”

Her scowl slowly morphs into a mischievous grin as she asks, “Somethin’ rare? Not really common, then?”

Gearing bobs his head around and nods. “Yeah, you could say that.”

She grins even wider as she beckons with a forehoof. “Well, don’t jus’ waste all day, spit it out. What’s this new an’ excitin’ thing?”

Gearing frowns as he says, “A suit of EDF Combat Engineer fire fighting equipment.”

She tilts her head as she scrunches up her muzzle. “You wanna set o’ firefightin’ equipment?”

Gearing shakes his head. “No, a suit of EDF Combat Engineer fire fighting equipment.” At the blank stare he receives he sighs and waves a hoof. “It’s a set made for the combat engineers to be able to put out fires in the middle of combat… The outer layer is pretty much a fire retardant jacket, like most Fire Department’s used, but it had been enhanced with kevlar and ceramic plates to protect them if anything exploded while they tried to put it out. And, under all of that, were a layer of plates, like a combat armor set, that protected vitals and helped deaden the blow if they were shot while on the job. The helmet was a full tactical variant of the normal combat helmet, with a full face cover and respirator built into the muzzle guard. It allowed them to see through the smoke while working, and had built in radios for communication… then there was the prerequisite oxygen canisters and water talisman operated mini fire hoses… Like a flamer, but spat water instead of fire.” He waves off to the side as he says, “It’s similar to the blast armor the Explosive Ordinance Disposal folks wore, but a lot less bulky and rigid, but not as protective because of it…”

She taps on her muzzle for a bit as she says, “I’ve never even heard o’ that... but it’d make sense considerin’ how the war was goin’ to need to have combat variations o’ the firefighter’s uniforms…” She shrugs as she says, “I definitely don’t have anythin’ like that, but if you can get me all o’ the parts, I’m pretty sure I can put somethin’ together for you.”

Gearing sighs as he looks around. “If I had all of the parts I could just work something out myself…”

She leans in as she eyeballs his cloak and asks, “Ooohh? A bit of an armorer yourself, eh?”

Gearing shrugs. “Repairpony… But a damn good technician at that. Wouldn’t be the first set of armor I’ve modified.” He looks around as he groans. “I just don’t know where to get a set of firefighting gear… That’d at least be a place for me to start.”

“Well you could try talking’ to one of the Burner Boys… but they’re not all that friendly to strangers.”

Gearing looks over at her as he asks, “Burner boys?”

She waves off in the vague direction of the north. “One of the bigger Hoofin’ton gangs… They run around in firefighter jackets and love usin’ flamers and other flamin’ o' explosive weaponry.” She puts a hoof to her chin as she says softly, “You know I can probably work somethin’ out with you to get the parts… just two things…” She motions him closer with a forehoof and he obliges. When he’s closer she wraps a foreleg around his neck and taps him on the chest with her other hoof as she says, “Firs’ I wanna see it when it’s done… And you’re still payin’ for parts, and I’ll make the connections to get what you need, but it’ll take some time and you’ll have to figure out what they want for whatever they have that you need.”

Gearing nods as he chuckles. “Fair ‘nuff.”

She nods then looks around before she whispers in his ear, “But ditch the water talisman part of it… or at least don’t talk about it… because if you get your hooves on one there are others that would seriously ruin your day just to get it…”

Gearing slowly turns his head as he hears heavy hoof falls, and sees a trio of ponies walking past with full suits of Steel Ranger power armor. Gearing turns his head the other way to watch them as they pass and continue down the aisle as he judges their capabilities, quickly taking note of how each of the three has their own unique armaments. A missile launcher on one side with a 40mm grenade autocannon on the other, another has a pair of miniguns. But, still, the third one looks like more than a match for the other two. The third’s armor is far more ornate, with obvious decoration that does not come standard on that model of armor as far as he knows. And then there’s the pair of cannons they are toting. Roughly a 120 millimeter with an auto loader built in to hot swap out a new round after each time it fires. He’s not sure if the long barreled menace came from a modified artillery platform, or if it simply was salvaged from an old EDF naval vessel.

Regardless of its origins, the little blue pegasus in his head starts nuzzling a version of the long barreled weapon, before giddily aiming it around with one hoof like a rifle of one kind or another.

Gearing slowly starts to smile as he starts running through a variety of possibilities of turning a weapon like that into a rifle for him to use himself. Sure, silencing that thing would be impossible short of some kind of talisman or fetish. But with something that big he gets a giddy feeling as he’s pretty sure he could reach out and touch somebody from so far away that they wouldn’t hear the shot by time it landed anyway.

But then there would be the issue of needing to find a magically enhanced magnifier or target locator… the little blue pegasus in his head adds helpfully with a glint in his eyes.

“Hey! Don’t go lustin’ after their cannons, that’s a quick way to get in their scope!” the armor shopkeeper says as she lightly pops him on the head with the hoof she’d had around his neck. “I know it’s sexy n’ all, but keep your sheath out of this or you’re goin’ to be in a world of hurt.” She nods in the direction of the trio without actually looking at them as she says softly, “As far as causin’ bad days over tech, they’re the worst. Generally they’re okay, unless you have something they want. In which case, even the nicest of them can quickly turn on you.”

Could show them the PipBuck master key, and see how they respond, the little blue pegasus in his head offers. He gives Gearing a mischievous grin as he says, If they shoot first over it, that’s just self defense, and a single spark grenade could put an end to it quick. Crash their matrix, take advantage of one of the articulation points along their neck, then we’d have a whole lot of pieces of equipment to use. He hops up and duel wields the massive cannons with one in each forehoof as he screams. And two biiiiig fuckn’ guns!

Gearing groans and shakes his head as he replies, “Yeah, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that…” He looks down then up at her as he raises an eyebrow as she slowly moves the hoof she’d tapped his chest with over his chest is a slow caressing action. He asks in a sweet tone, “Notice anything you like?”

She jerks her hoof away for a moment as she looks around, then chuckles as she pats him on the chest again before stepping away. “Micro articulation points, self lubricatin’, and some stuff even I can’t figure out…” She tilts her head. “Just why do you need another suit of armor?”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head instantly tosses the oversized cannons away to dissolve into clouds of mental space as he flops down and folds his forelegs across his chest as he grumps, Bitch had to go and ruin the moment, didn’t she?

Gearing points at his face through the cloak as he says, “More armor’s always better, and I really do need the face shield and communication equipment aspects of it. Plus the way I run into trouble I’m going to need a few sets of different ones just to have spares.”

She taps on her muzzle a bit as she looks around inside of her little booth. She waves at him without actually looking at him as she says, “Well if you’re good enough to customize that, you can probably handle the job on your own… Stop by every now and then and I’ll see if I got any leads for you.” She turns to look at him as she points at the ground. “But definitely swing by tonight, I should be able to come up with somethin’ by then.”

Gearing shrugs as he turns and starts walking down the aisle again, in the opposite direction the three Steel Rangers had gone, as he says, “We’ve got a lot of trading to do anyway, so we’ll be around a while. Talk to you later.” She waves him off and doesn’t pay him any further attention as she returns to sorting her stock and mutterings to herself.

A few booths down Gearing stops to examine a helmet with a smashed faceguard. He picks it up and carefully starts looking it over, flipping it around to look at it from the inside to see what could have happened. It’s not hard to notice the dent on the inside of the helmet where some kind of spike broke through the front left side of the helmet, and was only stopped by the metal on the backside. Presumably while it had been worn. But, as solid as the rest of the helmet seems to be, and possibly still mostly functional, he’s more interested in the fragments of electronics hanging in the front from where the face guard had been destroyed.

As a matter of principle, and being unable to prevent himself from doing it anymore at this point, he keeps aware of those around him, their positioning, and their conversations. And a particularly rambunctious buck coming down the aisle earns his undivided attention and stops him from interrupting the booth’s owner to check on a price for the helmet.

The group of five bucks walk down the aisle, laughing loudly as the white stallion in the lead regales them with his flights of fantasy for the mass of wealth he seems to be sure he is going to get soon.

The brown buck over his left shoulder laughs as he asks, “And you’re sure you’re going to have enough for all of this? Even with as much as we’re going to get?”

The white buck pauses walking as he laughs and waves a hoof at him. “Oh, I got a plan for that too! I’m going to make soooooo much more money with my plan than anyone else even thought of!”

The black stallion in the brown duster to his right asks, “How’s that even possible?”

The white buck taps on the side of his own head as he looks at them and grins. “Because I use my head!” He spins around, practically prancing, as he giggles at his own cleverness. He leans in towards them, and beckons them in closer before he says quietly, “See… Everyone else is just interested in the bounty… So they’re just going to drop her off at Paradise, collect their pay, and trot off into the sunset.” He waves towards the west with a hoof in a wide sweeping motion, for obvious dramatic effect. “But, that’s short sighted.” He looks around them, and then leans in closer as he says with a giggle, “With all the folks she’s royally pissed off, I figure that a good amount of them would want some serious pay back.” He chuckles a bit more and adds with a grin, “And I bet they’d pay a small fortune to get a chance!”

The black stallion in the duster asks, “So, what, you going to drag her around so folks can kick the crap out of her?”

The white buck shakes his head and opens his mouth, but then scrunches it up to the side as it actually crosses his mind for a few moments. He shakes his head again. “Nah, fuckers probably kill her… I’m sure Usury wants that pleasure herself… but… no…” He giggles some more before he says, “I’m going to truss her up like a radhog, and get a train going,” He leans in and nudges the other bucks with an elbow as he winks at them. “If ya know what I mean…” He giggles and waves the hoof around again as he says, “Yeah, I figured I’d take the scenic route to Paradise… and let anyone with a cap to spend and a load to blow have a go.” He starts laughing as he taps on the ground with a forehoof. “‘Security Pony Rides! Everyone gets a try!’ How’s that sound for a slogan!?” He laughs some more and the others with him snicker and roll their eyes at the ridiculousness of it.

“You know… that’s pretty fucked up...” Gearing’s voice comes from their side as he puts the helmet back on its display stand.

The white stallion looks over at him as he nickers and sneers. “Aw come on, it’s just a bit of fun. She’s gonna die anyway, what’s th-”

“… and I’m gonna have to shoot you for it,” Gearing finishes, interrupting whatever the buck was going to say as he steps over and flicks the white stallion in the forehead, right between the eyes, with a quick tap of the end of a crystalline feather.

The white stallion recoils a bit and reaches up as he rubs the spot on his forehead. “Hey! What the fuck you trying to do here?! You wanna start a fight?!”

Gearing tilts his head to let the right side of his face poke out of the cowl as he says in a low growling tone. “Being willing to kill someone like that, over a bit of money, is bad enough… But what you’re planning is damn right despicable… And you’re days are numbered…”

The brown buck with him waves a hoof as he says, “He… he was just kidding about that… He wasn’t serious.” He catches eye contact with Gearing, and at this point Gearing’s eye practically glows with menace at him as he rapidly taps on the white buck’s shoulders. “Right? You were just kidding about all of that right?” He turns his head as he says through hissing teeth, “This isn’t a fight we want, especially not here.”

The white buck looks at him, then looks over at Gearing and notices the golden glint shining in his direction as he stutters, “Uh… yeah…” He waves a hoof as he gives his biggest, widest, cheesiest smile. “I was just fooln’ around, ya know… Who’d think of something that screwed up?!” He looks at his friends as he asks with a nervous chuckle, “Right guys?!” They quickly nod in agreement.

The brown buck looks at Gearing and grins as he says, “See… just a joke… he was only kidding.”

Gearing gives a slow single shake of his head as he says, “No. He wasn’t… and neither was I.” He grins as he sticks his muzzle out beyond the cowl. “Let’s see how you like running around with a bullseye marked on your head.”

A pair of Megamart’s security come running down each end of the aisle as the crowds move out of the way and try to stay out of whatever this is. The security mares look back and forth, gauging the body language of the spectators as they try and sort out who’s causing the disturbance. It doesn’t take them long to find, and surround, the six bucks staring each other down. A tan mare with a pair of shotguns on her battle saddle yells out, “What’s going on over here?!”

The white buck points a hoof at Gearing as he yells in a whiney tone that doesn’t match his apparent age, “He threatened to shoot me!”

“No I didn’t,” Gearing says flatly.

The white buck shakes his head before he leans in and yells at Gearing, “Ya did too!”

Gearing tilts his head as he stares back at him. “I didn’t threaten you… I made you a promise… You disgusting waste of oxygen.”

A lemon yellow mare with a blue mane steps through the crowd and passed the security guards as she gains everyone’s attention by calling out, “We’re still cleaning up from the last time someone decided to pick a fight in here. We cannot have you starting a fight, nor discharging weaponry, inside of Megamart.” She looks between the two obvious parties as she says, “This is a place of business and trade, and we will not stand for you disrupting their shopping.”

Gearing glances at her out of the corner of his eye, and then slowly turns his head to actually focus on her after noticing the faded navy blue vest she’s wearing. Now that type of vest he remembers, before it had two centuries of fading applied to it. He even feels a bit of nostalgia as he sees the cheesy name tag on the breast that says:

Hello, my name is:

Bottlecap

Your Megamart Manager.

As she’s turning to look at one of the guards, Gearing notices the trio of bottle caps where her cutie mark should be, and can’t help but wonder if maybe she has a thing for Sparkle Cola.

More likely it’s about the money… The little blue pegasus in his head grumps with folded forehooves.

Gearing quickly waves a hoof as he says, “Oh, I know. The security mares at the front gate already explained that. I have no intention of fighting inside of Megamart.” He looks around and shrugs. “The possibility of hurting innocent civilians is too high.” He looks at Bottlecap as he says, “I’m just here offloading the mound of salvage I picked up from a raider nest… and talk, to pick up some information from somepony…” He points a hoof over at Bottlecap as he says, “You’re just the mare I was told to see, Bottlecap right?”

She nods as she looks him over. “Yes, I’m the manager here. What information were you looking for?” She raises an eyebrow as she says flatly, “Information’s as much of a commodity as anything else…” She smiles lightly as she says, “You can always ask for free… but beyond that expect to pay.”

The white buck looks at her and points a hoof at Gearing as he yells, “He just threatened to shoot me in the head, and you’re going to stand here and talk business?!”

She looks over at him for a split second and asks as she turns back to look at Gearing, “Did you threaten to shoot him in the head?”

Gearing waves a hoof as he says, and repeats, “I promised him I would…” He shakes his head. “Was just stating fact… It wasn’t a threat… just like the fact that I’m not going to start anything while in here.”

Bottlecap shrugs as she looks at the white buck. “Well, as long as nothing happens in here, it’s not our concern.” She looks over at Gearing and frowns as she says, “But kindly do not make such promises in here, please. Those kinds of discussions escalate quickly into actual fights.”

The white buck looks at her as he scowls, “You’re not going to do anything? I crack a joke and he threatens to kill me, and you just ignore it?

“You think train gang raping a mare is funny?” Bottlecap’s ears jump up and her eyes go round at the comment. “Turning her into a sex slave for your own amusement and profit? Well I find that about as funny as you’re going to find the next day,” Gearing quips.

“What… what’s going on over the course of the next day?” the brown buck with them asks as he looks around quickly.

Gearing grins at them as he says, “That’s how long he’s got… and, considering how busy I am and the amount of shopping I still need to do, if he starts running now, he might actually make it a whole day.” He looks over at the white buck and a malicious grin crosses his muzzle as he says, “I hope you have an amazing dinner planned tonight… cuz you aren’t getting another one.”

Bottlecap starts clicking her tongue as she looks sideways at the white buck and obviously starts running numbers of her own through her head. She points a hoof at Gearing without looking at him and says, “I did just ask you to not make threats while inside the store…” She looks over at the white buck and says dryly, “If you’re in the slave trade, you’re at the wrong Finders location. So I suggest you finish getting whatever you were going to buy here, then go about your business.”

The white stallion’s jaw drops as he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Then, in the same whiny tone he had before, he points at Gearing as he looks at her, “Well what about him?!”

Bottlecap looks over at Gearing as she asks, “You did say you had some business with me… What was it again?”

Gearing tilts his head as he says, “Yes, Ma’am. Roadie said I should speak with you, do you have some place we can talk?”

Bottlecap tilts her head as she looks at him. “Roadie?” He eyes open a bit wider as she says, “Ah… Short Road… Yes.” She looks him over as she says, “He did send word that somepony would be stopping by for a list…”

Gearing leans towards her as he sticks his muzzle out of his cowl and grins at her. “That’d be me…”

Bottlecap clicks her tongue a few times before she nods. “Yes, well, come with me to my office and we can discuss the work order.” She starts to turn around before she glances at him sideways and asks, “As long as you’re planning on continuing to behave yourself while here?”

Gearing nods and waves her on to lead the way. “Of course… After you.” He follows her through the crowd and back towards her office as the guards keep the rest of the other party at bay. Thus giving the groups time to completely separate, and get out of line of sight of each other, before they stop blocking the aisle and wave everyone to go back about their own business.

Which, despite what anyone else might have thought given what just happened, they do. With the din of bartering quickly picking up to their normal loud levels.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 37%

Gravity Differential alignment at 50%

Gravity Differential alignment at 62%

51 Fixer Up

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The door to Stormfront’s heavy equipment and transportation motor pool maintenance wing opens as the yellow cream mare mechanic slogs in with her eyes barely open. She pauses a couple dozen steps in past the threshold and takes a long pull from her massive mug of coffee balanced on her left forehoof. She grabs it with her teeth, and then quickly takes over holding it with her fetlock as she tilts her head back and downs almost half of the container in one quick chug. She starts walking forward again as she lets out a sigh of contentment, resulting in a light puff of visible breath escaping her lips from the heat of the drink she just consumed, and the relatively cool temperatures of the maintenance wing sector of the compound.

The underground motor pool maintenance wing roughly covers the size of a full hoofball field. With bays set up along the majority of its perimeter, most of which are tailored to one kind of equipment or another. Various sized wagons. Sky wagons. There’s even locations for Super Sentinels and full sized tanks at the far end. And of the bays, most of which have something in them patiently awaiting their turn at maintenance, upgrade, or repair, only a few of them show any recent work as there’s an obvious backlog developing. The central portion is wide enough to allow traffic, even with the various vertibuck landing pads set up along the length of the wing’s center line. The side opposite of the equipment entrance doors, a set of vertical monstrosities large enough to allow the vertibucks to fly out at the same time a tank is being brought in or out while open, has a collection of shipping containers that function as a depot to allow the contents to be accessed and distributed from there.

She stifles a yawn with the mug, already debating on going back and getting more coffee, before she actually opens her eyes enough to look towards the center maintenance area where she was heading. Only to find the lights are all already on at her destination, ready for work to begin.

However, she drops her coffee, and her jaw, to the floor as she sees what’s in the middle of the maintenance landing pad where she was headed in sleepy zombie mode.

A vertibuck.

Normally this wouldn’t be a concern. Vertibucks need work on them periodically anyway. In fact, this very vertibuck, yes, it’s definitely the same one judging by the serial numbers along the tail fins, is the one she was intending to work on today. But, instead of coming in and getting to the process of narrowing down its problem, and then, hopefully, fixing said problem, her plans for the day have been entirely derailed.

By a tiny pegasus buck in an oversized flight suit who seems to be tightening down the last bolt on a hatch before closing and securing the access port.

Her cobalt blue eyes enlarge to the size of dinner plates as she grits her teeth in frustration and shock. She starts running towards the apparent disaster as she finds herself now entirely awake, and angry, as she screams, “Newbie! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Gearing, sans head gear, turns around and waves at her as he says, “Hiya, Hammer! I’m just getting it back together.” He shrugs. “I came in and found it in a buncha pieces so I figured I’d try and help out while you all slept.”

She sits down and puts her hooves up to her face as she screams, “Are you kidding me?! It took me two days to get that entire assembly off and apart!” She waves her hoof at him menacingly as she moans, “Now I gotta take it apart all over again!”

Gearing looks over at her and tilts his head as he asks, “Why?”

She starts walking up towards it as she scowls. “Look, newbie, I know you’re trying to be helpful and all, but this isn’t the kind of thing you should be doing. Especially unsupervised! I took it apart to figure out what was wrong with it so I could fix it…” She sighs in resignation as she realizes there’s no point in getting riled up now, what’s done is done, but hopefully she can prevent such ‘good intentions’ from screwing her over in the future. She takes in a deep breath before she says in a slightly calmer tone, “Sometimes you have to break something, in order to put it back together and get it working. You understand?”

Gearing tilts his head as he points a hoof at her. “Well… yeah... but I don’t see why you wanna go through all of that again though?” he says in a tone of clear confusion.

She opens her mouth to say something, but a voice comes out from the cockpit, and magnified over the vetibuck’s external loudspeakers, “We good to give it a try, Nitro?”

Gearing closes the hatch completely and hops away from it as he nods and yells back. “Yeah. Spin’er up and see if that took care of it, Jitterbug!”

“Roger… Stay clear, I’m giving her some thrust,” Jitterbug replies from the cockpit as the vertibuck comes to life and starts hovering, blowing wind a variety of directions. Then it goes forward a bit, turns around, and comes back. It passes the landing pad before Jitterbug takes it into a maneuver that makes it jump up towards the ceiling, nose first. The short maneuver, thanks to the enclosed space, results in it spinning around and falling back down, again nose first, before gliding back towards the landing pad. She slowly sets it back down on the docking port as she says over the speakers cheerfully, “Looks like we got it, Nitro!”

Gearing grins and waves at the cockpit before turning around and looking at Hammer. Only to find the yellow cream mare sitting on her haunches with her jaw hanging open loosely at what she’d seen. She slowly drifts her eyes over to Gearing before asking, “Since when are you such an expert on vertibuck archano-tech thrust technology?!”

“Last night,” Gearing replies flatly.

She shakes her head a few times and she holds onto her face as she asks softly, “Am I dreaming?” She taps her cheeks a couple times with her hooves. “Is that what it is? Have I put in so many hours that now I’m fantasizing about problems just fixing themselves?”

Gearing scrunches up his face to the side as he says, “That would be cool… but weird… But cool…” He shakes his head and points at the vertibuck as he says, “But me and Jitterbug fixed it.”

Jitterbug comes fluttering out of the vertbuck in her flight suit as she shakes her head. “Oh no, you’re not pinning this on me!” She looks over at Hammer and points at Gearing. “This was all Nitro. He did it himself… He would have even flown it, or tried too, but I refused to let him.” She tucks her dark gray mane back into her cap as she says, “I only agreed to help him for the test flight portion.”

Hammer looks between the two and asks, “The hell was going on with it? It seemed to work and then not work, completely at random. I finally took it apart so I could test each and every piece as I put it back together.”

Gearing opens his mouth to say something, but stops. He scrunches his face up one way then the other. After a bit he sits and taps his forhooves together sheepishly, “I don’t know the names of the things that were needed to be done. I just went by the diagrams… but the thingy that plugged into the doohiky got out of calibration and that made it rattle and smack another thingy, that knocked that out of alignment so in the end it broke a capacitor.” She stares at him stone faced and he adds, “Well… the capacitor worked... just that little leg piece that holds it to the board? It broke. So it would have power as long as it wasn’t moving, but if it shook it would break the connection. Since the break was at the board, I just soldered it back on… then fixed the other things so they wouldn’t do it anymore…” He shrugs. “Turns out it was just a worn out washer that caused the whole mess.” He grins widely as he says, “I replaced that too, got it from one of those jars you keep all the loose screws and such in.”

Hammer stares at him for a few moments before saying, flatly, and with all sincerity, “Horseapples… If you really managed to fix that shit, I’ll kiss you full on the mouth.”

Gearing walks over and pops the access hatch of the vertibuck as he digs around in his flight suit. He produces a rust covered, broken in half, rubber washer as he points at the fresh replacement. Then overs her a magnifying glass from the side of his modified hoofball helmet, that he has sitting nearby, as he points at the connection point. “See… it was this one here.”

Hammer quickly zips over and looks in for herself. She pops on a flashlight, holding it in her mouth, and gives it a discerning eye as she asks around the flashlight, “Dith tha firth time you thodered uh ‘lectronic?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve been dabbling for years… Take electronics apart and put them back together to see how they work. That sort of thing.”

She slowly pulls back, grabbing the flashlight from her mouth with a hoof, as she’s hanging out of the access panel and looks him over as she asks, “How the hell did you track this down?”

Gearing points over to the side where a pile of books lay open across a couple improvised tables made from weapon crates, ammo boxes, and general shipping crates. “Well, you had the manual. So I just did a little light reading and tried to back trace where the general culprit was at.” He shrugs as he says, “I was sure it was an electrical issue, so that narrowed it down a lot… And with the parts you’d taken apart, I figured it had to be in that module you removed… so it narrowed it down pretty quickly by factoring in what you had already been doing.”

“That manual’s over 700 pages thick with small as hell print! How’d you get through that in one night?! You call that light reading?!”

Gearing sheepishly taps his forehooves together as he says, “Okay, I’m a nerd, I like to read, alright?” He looks over at the books and adds, “I haven’t gotten through all of it yet, just the thrust mechanics diagrams and electrical plans really.” He waves over towards the other books and avoids eye contact as he says softly, “I kind of… had to use the other books to figure out what some of it was talking about… Soooo many acronyms… so many…”

Hammer slowly starts growing a grin across her muzzle as she looks at Jitterbug. “Is it working? Is it really working, Warrant Officer?”

Jitterbug shrugs and nods. “As far as I can tell, yeah. Last time I was in’er it wouldn’t do that rapid climb without losing power and altitude, so that most likely got it.” She looks back and forth before she says, “Going to need a few more test flights just to make sure. So far so good though.”

Gearing hops around on the tips of his hooves as he asks excitedly, “Do I get to fly it? Are ya gonna teach me to fly it?”

She smirks as she looks at him sideways, “Easy there, Nitro. I know you’re all pumped up and ready to go all the time.” She rolls her eyes and looks over at Hammer before she finishes, “But the rest of us need sleep, and you need a hell of a lot more training before anyone’s going to let you in the cockpit for test flights.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he turns and starts walking over towards the pile of books he’d accumulated for the project. “Aaawww. It’s going to be forever before I get to the really good stuff.” He walks across the platform, then hops onto the armor plating of a tank parked next to it before jumping to the other side and fluttering over by the books.

Hammer sees the tank dip slightly under the pressure of his weight and she calls out after him, “Buck, just what has your momma been feeding your heavy ass?”

Gearing looks over at her and stares her straight in the face as he says, “A steady diet of guilt and high expectations.”

Jitterbug giggles as she nudges Hammer in the side. “That heavy enough for you?”

Hammer grins as she watches Gearing sort through the books. “Mmmm I think so…” She trots over to the improvised workbench by Gearing as she watches him organizing the books and start reading the technical manual for the vertibuck, beginning from page one. She stops next to him and stoops down a bit as she says softly in his ear, “Hey, Nitro.” Gearing turns to look at her and raises an eyebrow.

His eyebrows jump up and his eyes open to their fullest as Hammer grabs him by the cheeks with both forehooves, leans in, and gives him a deep tongued kiss as she tilts her head into it. She pulls back and grins at him with her eyes practically sparkling as she says with a gasp, “I was promised I could take a day off once this was fixed, so now I’m gonna go get some real sleep!” She kisses him on the nose again before she turns and starts quickly trotting towards the door. “I’m coming, bed. I hear you, baby! You queen-sized double-layer-down goddess you!” She starts running as quickly as she can as she squeals in delight, “Come to momma!”

Jitterbug flutters near Gearing, who hasn’t moved at all since the surprise was sprung on him, as she asks softly, “You… you okay, Nitro?”

Gearing continues staring off into space for a few more seconds before he puts a hoof to his chin and nods lightly. “Sorry… I was just thinking… and trying to figure out... just how long her tongue has to be to do what she just did…”

Jitterbug giggles as she scrunches up her face, “Eeww… Tee emm aye, Nitro… Tee emm aye!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Once they are inside of her office, Bottlecap closes the door behind them and asks Gearing, “Would you like something to drink while we talk?”

Gearing looks around the office slowly as he shakes his head. “No. Thank you. But, no.”

Gearing’s eyes sweep across the room as he quickly takes in the small room. Having killed someone in front of this very store, and put someone inside the store on the same lineup, in the same day he could be forgiven for quickly looking for murder holes, hidden turrets, or other signs of this being a trap. Especially given this Bottlecap is a pony he’s never met before. But, no. The only thing hidden in here seems to be the way the water dripping down into the metal coffee can near the cot in the corner is getting in. Besides the hole in the ceiling that said water was invading the office through that is. Great, it’s raining again. Just another glorious day in Hoofington! he silently complains as he can’t help but mentally trying to trace where the water could actually be coming from, as roof leaks have a tendency to run from their actual entry point to where they drip down from.

Hey, stupid, we’re not here to fix her roof! the little blue pegasus in his head grumps as it bucks him in the side of his head repeatedly.

Dragging his attention willfully from the poorly maintained gap, he starts paying attention to the rest of the office. Though, judging by the cot in the corner, he realizes this is more than just an office, and is most likely Bottlecap’s private room. Or as close as anyone is going to get around here. The room, while in need of some real work, also shows that she’s pretty much done the best she can with what’s available. She even has a collection of books on a shelf by her desk. Not the ratty kind that he’s seen in some even better conditioned offices that he’s been in recently. Ones that he’s quite certain that are actually legible and ready to be enjoyed. But beyond functional items, like the cot, refrigerator, terminal on the desk, and a safe, there’s a collection of oddities that he can’t quite understand why she has in her room. Hanging up on one wall near the ceiling is a plastic banner two centuries past obsolescence.

Megamart, always lowest prices, always highest quality

Then there were other examples of this office’s previous tenants. All as mind-boggling to Gearing as the banner. Awards for capitalistic achievements measured in sales. One for the last employee of the year the store would ever have. There were even other advertisements hung up around the walls that he didn’t see the use for. But his eyes stop dead in their tracks when he sees a photo with a mass of Equestrian Defense Force soldiers in their standard issue green combat armor. And, even more eye catching, is the group of two toned equines with them, making up the other group. Red on White.

Zebras. Ones that had undergone a process to change their black stripes red to differentiate themselves from the rest of their people. Red Stripes. Candy Stripers. Proditors. ‘Traitors’. It was all a matter of perspective. But Gearing knows that group were some of the loneliest equines in the world. Despised by their own home country for ‘siding with the enemy over their own people’. Not trusted, harassed, and looked down upon by most in Equestria as well. They got it from both sides. Despite what they had done for Equestria. Fighting. Dying even. For a country that, as a whole, neither trusted them nor liked them nevertheless. All because it was what they thought was the right thing to do. Following their conscience instead of doctrine. For that, they’d earned his admiration at least. And, for that, and other reasons, he would never tolerate anyone hating them simply for being zebra. He traces the group of Proditors to the side where, in the middle where the two groups merge, one of the red zebra mares is giving a joyful hoofbump to a red-headed curly-maned mare with large purple glasses.

Twist. One of the practical living legends known as Macintosh’s Marauders, lead by Big Macintosh himself, until his death. He never got a chance to meet any of them in person. The dice never rolled that way. But it was impossible to live anywhere in Equestria and stay away from the constant bombardment of propaganda surrounding them. The Ministry of Image made sure of that.

The caption under the picture unnecessarily tells him what he already knows, but manages to draw a sneer of contempt for its blatant shameless exploitation of service members: Macintosh’s Marauders invade Megamart with the Red Stripes. Great deals ensue.

Gearing shakes his head with disgust as he snorts. Then he goes back to looking at the picture. His eyes are drawn to the zebra side of the image. And eventually settle on a mare in the second row near the outside of the group. The smirk on her face is like she has a secret that she’s trying hard not to let slip, but that she can’t wait for the time to come when she can let it out. Her eyes are a dazzling blue. A diamond blue that seems to radiate out of the picture and defy time itself as her eyes have refused to fade with the rest of the picture. Even with all of the time that’s passed. He keeps looking into her eyes, captivated, until he’s finally pulled out of his trance by Bottlecap calling out to him.

She has the refrigerator open and is holding up a bottle of Sparkle Cola as she asks with a curious expression across her face, “You okay? You sure you don’t want something to drink?” Gearing quickly shakes his head in response as she pops the top with her teeth, pocketing the cap as she walks around her desk and takes a sip as she watches him carefully. “You’re not at all what I had expected.” She sets the bottle down on the desk as she adds, “He’d said you were a pegasus…”

Gearing looks back at the picture as his eyes dart around its surface. He looks over at the edge, looking for that mare with the nearly hypnotic blue eyes. But, can’t find her amid the crowd. He blinks a few times after failing to immediately spot her again, and instead turns to look at Bottlecap. The tone of doubt in her voice reveals her suspicion of him and makes him wonder if she simply brought him in here to get the two groups apart before yet another fight breaks out in the middle of her shopping market. Gearing fans out his right wing, lifting the cloak as he says, “And right he was.” He gives the picture one last fleeting look as he can’t help but feeling, deep down, that something’s wrong. A sense that something’s missing. And it’s not simply what he’d just seen disappearing. And the fact that he can’t think of what could possibly be missing to cause this feeling, troubles him even more.

She raps on the desk for a few moments before she says, “I must admit. I was a bit confused by the situation.” She looks him over as she asks, “Would you be willing to elaborate on your request to me a bit more?”

Gearing waves a hoof as he shrugs. “I need information. I want to know where these slavers and raiders bed down. If your caravans are getting hit by them, I wanna know where they’re going missing.”

She slowly takes a drink from the bottle as she looks him over, then comments after setting it back on the desk, “Short Road has already told me how you’ve used the information they’d given you…” She taps her forehooves together on the desktop as she says, “Tower Towing?”

Gearing nods. “Entire operation shut down. I didn’t keep a head count of all of the ponies released, but it was quite a few.”

“Yet you didn’t take anything from anyone, so why are you doing this?” she asks without even trying to hide her suspicion from him anymore.

He takes in a deep breath and sits down as he says, “That is a really long story probably… But it’s something that needs doing. Equestria needs to get fixed if it’s going to survive. And that’s going to require a lot of muck raking.”

She raises an eyebrow as she asks, “And you’re doing all of this out of the goodness of your heart? Entirely for free?”

Gearing chuckles as he looks around. “I wouldn’t say free… that wouldn’t be accurate.” He looks at her as he grins. “A wise friend of mine once told me, if you’re really good at something, never do it for free.”

A slight smile cracks across her muzzle before she asks, “So… what form of payment do you normally prefer?”

Gearing rubs a hoof over the back of his head as he chuckles. “I guess they’re using caps these days, huh?” The comment causes Bottlecap’s eyebrow to jump up to it’s highest as she’d been in the middle of taking a sip from her bottle. But he shrugs as he says, “Mostly I try for things I need to get my next jobs done.” He bobs his head around as he says, “Keep the cycle going but with enough excess that I can keep going even if things don’t turn out in my favor.” He waves a hoof at her as he says, “Could definitely use some leads on equipment and the like. And that’s going to require payment.” He points off to the door as he says, “I’m already working with Patches to try and get a new set of armor for myself.”

Bottlecap looks him over as she folds her forehooves on the desk and asks, “What happened to the set you had before?”

Gearing lets out a sigh then slowly takes the improvised cloak off, tossing it to the side as he looks her over. “I got shot down out near the Freight Cars’ territory… and the skywagon I was pulling detonated… causing part of the building to fall on me.” He shrugs as he starts rummaging in his saddle bag. “It’s scrapped. Better to entirely replace it than try to fix it at this point.”

The pupils of Bottlecap’s eyes seem to have shrunk to pinpricks as she looks him over. Regardless of what she thought he was going to look like, this obviously isn’t it. The obvious tell tale signs of many layers of damage on him aside; the crystalline shimmering green wings are like nothing she’s seen before. Outside of stained glass windows. But, despite the rampant questions such a sight would draw from most, she’s a shrewd enough mare to know better than commenting on such painfully obvious discrepancies between Gearing and the rest of equnity. After a few seconds of shock, she shakes her head and asks, “So why were you threatening to kill that buck? Are you going to go after ever bounty hunter that’s after Security?” To Gearing’s instantly raised eyebrow she adds, “That’s what that argument was about, right? Security?” She lets out a sigh as she looks over at the cot and says softly, “That’s who all the trouble around here the last few days has been about.”

Gearing glances over at her and tilts his head as he asks, “Do you really wanna know what got him on my list?”

Bottlecap looks him over as she thinks it through. “Probably not… but let’s hear it anyway.”

Gearing stops sorting through his bag and looks at her as he says, “The fucked up bounty aside, he’s intending on dragging her all over Hoofington and charging folks for the opportunity to rape her.” He shakes his head. “And that shit doesn’t sit well with me.”

Bottlecap regards him as she asks cautiously, “So… you’re not going after the bounty yourself?” She looks him over as she says, “From what I hear you’re quite capable.”

“Nope.” Gearing quickly shakes his head. “From what I know of her I think she’s just what Hoofington needs right now. Hell, Equestria as a whole even. But, if anyone does claim that bounty, well I’ll have no problem what-so-ever sending them straight to hell.” He looks off to the side as he says, “Besides, from what I heard there’s several bounties around this area already with some truly scummy individuals that need to be removed.”

Bottlecap taps her forehooves together as she says, “There are quite a few, though how ‘justified’ they are, I can’t really tell you for sure. All I do is make the connections between bounties and bounty hunters. You’ll have to make that decision on your own… However…” She pulls a drawer open and pulls out a piece of paper as she looks it over. “The Finders have an outstanding contract on a particularly bad piece of work.” She puts the piece of paper on the other side of the desk as she says, “The sick bastard is a serial rapist that has a penchant for burning his victims… Alive. He’s not really picky about his targets, and he’s made enough enemies that the bounty’s substantial…” She looks over at the paper as she sighs. “Given how badly Security needed money, and her ability to take care of other contracts, I was going to talk to her about it… but…” She waves a hoof to the door before rubbing her face with it. “That fight and the bounty on her head pretty much ruined that idea.” She shakes her head as she groans, “She’s got bigger problems to deal with now than this.”

She reaches over and taps on the paper as she says, “If you can take care of this, you’d be helping out a lot of ponies in the process.” She gives a wry smile as she adds, “And make a healthy amount for your other endeavors to boot.”

Gearing grabs the paper and starts looking it over as he asks, “Any other information on them? And dead or alive?”

She smiles lightly as she says, “Dead, definitely dead. And either bring back his head, or his mark to confirm the kill.” She frowns as she says softly, “As morbid as that sounds…”

Gearing nods and stows the paper as he says, “I’ll get to work on it. I already met one bounty hunter that was looking for a new target, so maybe we could head out tomorrow and get this taken care of for you.”

Bottlecap smirks. “Don’t be so hasty… he’s a real piece of work and not to be underestimated.”

Gearing shrugs. “The more they need to be removed, the sooner it should happen… I’ll take a look into it tomorrow. Maybe by then I’ll have some better equipment.” He rubs a hoof through his mane as he groans. “Or at least a few leads on the components we need.”

Bottlecap rattles her bottle, swishing the remnants in the bottom before downing the remaining amount of it. “Tomorrow isn’t that far away now, you know. If you need some rest there are cots for rent.” She sets the bottle down as she says, “With our contacts the Finders can point you in the right direction of most supplies.” She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Do you have a list of what you need? I can ask around while you’re getting ready to hunt down Cookie.”

Gearing nods and goes through his bag again, finding the list that he was looking for originally and passing it over as he says, “Yeah, here’s the written list. I already have a copy on my PipBuck.”

She starts looking over the paper as she says, “This is a lot of equipment…” She raises an eyebrow as she asks, “You just fetching this for someone else, or for your own purposes?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I made an agreement with someone that I could stay as long as I wish, if I help fix the bunker up.” He shakes his head. “The place is an absolute mess from lack of maintenance and upkeep.”

She looks up at him as she asks, “You must know what you’re doing, to even ask about some of this so specifically… You know much about the software side of things as well?” Gearing nods and grins. “Encryption and the like?” He nods again. “You any good at it?”

Gearing smirks as he leans sideways and looks over at the wall. “Oh… that’s a tough one to answer… The short answer is ‘No’, with a long answer of ‘Yes’ with a ‘but’…”

“But?”

Gearing shrugs and looks at her as he says, “Given enough time, and the proper equipment, I could eventually crack even government level encryptions.” He grins widely, “Equestrian or otherwise…” He lets out a sigh as he frowns. “But I don’t have access to any of the equipment that would be required to chug through that. At least nothing substantial. Not yet anyway. And I certainly don’t have the time to try and crank through it with lesser equipment.” He looks her over as he tilts his head and asks, “Why?”

She waves it off with a hoof as she replies quickly, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Somepony I know just came across a rather problematic large encrypted file and it crossed my mind I could make things easier on her and introduce you two…” She gives the faintest glimmer of a smile as she says, “Don’t worry, she’d be willing to pay, and I’m sure you two could have worked something out.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “I’ll let you know if anything changes. But I’m not going to lie about it; the odds aren’t great I will anytime soon.”

She smirks as she looks at him. “Well, thanks for not trying to blow smoke up my tail… I know there are those who’d lie about it just to get access to it so they could try and sell whatever it is themselves.”

Gearing smiles back as he nods slowly. “Because information is a commodity.”

She grins at him. “Exactly.”

Gearing slowly looks around the office as he says, “Speaking of… is your group here able to handle large amounts of salvage at a time? Or should I limit how much I bring at once?”

Bottlecaps eyes practically sparkle as she looks at him. “You have so much that you’re worried about flooding our markets?!” she asked with a more than pleased tone.

That’s funny, I thought Nahlah was the only one that purred, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he looks at Bottlecap suspiciously.

Gearing bobs his head side to side as he says, “No… It just so happens that I seem to run into entire groups of assholes at a time… and considering how much I can carry, I go ahead and bring whatever of value with me.” He points out into the shopping area as he says, “My friends are out there now trying to hock the load I brought in today.” He chuckles as he can’t help the grin on his face so he directs his gaze more at the floor. “Yeah… I don’t really envy her at the moment. That’s a lot of running around she’s going to have to do to unload it all.”

Bottlecap taps her forehooves together slowly before she asks, “So you’re with the grumpy blue buck and the blue pegasus mare?”

Gearing groans as he slowly looks up and over at her. “Yeaaahh… crap, what happened?”

Bottlecap waves a hoof dismissively as she says, “Oh, nothing. I was just alerted by security that they’d come in with a substantial arsenal.” Her lip curls into a smile as she adds, “And were wanting to trade it all… and apparently she’s been going through the entire floor space swapping with the different traders.” She nods her head slowly with approval as she says, “Trading is good. We need more trade coming through here… much more.”

She looks him over for a few moments before she asks softly, “Would you be willing to tell me where the ‘raider nest’ was that you acquired most of that bloody gear from?”

Gearing walks over by the desk and shows her his PipBuck as he marks the general location of where it was. “Around here. They were set up to attack an approaching convoy.” Bottlecap looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, and they share a smile as he finishes, “Their ambush didn’t go the way they wanted… obviously.”

Bottlecap nods as she says, “I’ve heard of a few travelers getting robbed, or out right entirely disappearing, in that area. I’ll make a note of it…” She looks up at him as she’s looking around for a scrap of paper to take down the information. “Do you know how many it was? It always helps to know how many have been removed from an area, and how many may be left.”

Gearing rubs a hoof over the back of his head as he lets out a gush of air. “Well. I’m not entirely sure… Was a bit hectic and I was trying to hurry up and catch back up with the others… a couple dozen?”

She raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Couple dozen?”

“About three dozen, yeah,” Gearing says with a nod.

Her eyes jump wide open as she drops the pencil she’d grabbed to write it down. “Nearly three dozen?! By yourself?”

Gearing looks around the room and pulls back a bit as he says defensively, “Well, yeah, but I wasn’t stupid enough to try them all at once!” He points at his PipBuck and circles the area. “They were spread out so it was easier to pick them off one by one. Or, at the worst of it, smaller groups.”

“That’s still rather impressive… and explains the haul your group brought in,” Bottlecap replies as she looks him over.

Gearing looks over at the wall where an old map of the city hangs, with far newer, possibly updated, information scrawled across its surface. He motions towards it with a hoof before looking at her. “And the more kinds of information I have, the easier it makes it for me to actually succeed. The bigger the group, the easier it is to find a place to toss a wrench into their workings… Disrupt things.” He looks over at her as he sits down and continues, “A couple of names I’ve heard crop up repeatedly are Red Eye, and Usury who’s apparently in a place called Paradise… You know anything about them?”

Bottlecap’s eyes go wide as she asks, “You going to try and add them to your bounty list? As impressive as taking down three dozen bandits might be, that’s still a tall order.”

Gearing shrugs as he smiles. “I was thinking more along the lines of finding ways to screw up their lines… With any business venture there’s always going to be the source, the seller, and the buyers… Do enough damage to any one part of the supply line and the entire thing would collapse… You remove the source, there’s nothing to sell… Remove the seller, and the buyer just isn’t getting their goods… remove the buyer… and demand falls.”

Bottlecap taps her forehooves together as she gives him an appraising look with a growing smile. “You seem to understand a lot more about trade and economics than most ponies.”

He shakes his head. “Not really… but a supply line is a supply line… and I don’t see a commerce supply line being any different than a military supply line. If they aren’t getting what they need when they need it, it can bring everything to a grinding halt. Whether that’s a box of Sugar Apple Bombs to a hungry pony at a store, or ammunition to soldiers on the front line… Disruptions in flows can be catastrophic.”

He pulls up his PipBuck’s inventory and starts scrolling through double checking a few components that he wants to make sure are on him as he asks, “So what all can you tell me about them? Anything? What about this Usury that’s got that bounty out on Security?”

Bottlecap lets out a sigh as she taps her forehooves together and obviously has some kind of internal struggle as she looks at him. “I can tell you a lot about her, because she’s my sister.”

Gearing looks up at her as his eyebrows jump up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting this turn of events. He’d had a long line of questions that would probably come across as a bit too snarky, especially with her name being a loan-shark’s hallmark that keeps reminding him of another loan-shark that he’s planning on removing soon.

Uhm, yeah, don’t mention that part… and… maybe we should definitely focus on one of our alternate approaches to problem solving… You know… with them being sisters and all. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in. Unless she actually asks you to do it that is, in which case it’d be a lead round well spent… even if that isn’t the best solution for bringing down the system…

“Well…,” Gearing starts. “I could use any information you’d be willing to give me. But I can understand if you don’t want to harm your sister’s business.”

Bottlecap shrugs before she says, “I can tell you what I know, what you choose to do with the information is up to you… There’s a lot, how much time do you have?”

Gearing grins as he says, “Well, I had plans for working on making myself some equipment tonight… And I got Cookie to deal with tomorrow, but I don’t sleep much, so it’s up to you, really.”

A smile crosses her muzzle as she says, “What a coincidence, neither do I.”

* * *

While the conversation with Bottlecap had been enlightening, and spawned many ideas for what he could do with the current situation to try and break the status quo, it did take a while. And by the time he got back to Patches’ booth, once again in his cloak, she wasn’t too happy with him. Mainly because she’d thought he’d taken off without stopping by first. But, after buying a few items, he goes over how he was planning to manufacture himself a full-head helmet out of the various components that included: the helmet he’d left at the other vendor when he got distracted by the disgusting white buck, a collection of scrap electronics from common household items, the face and muzzle section of what used to be a Steel Ranger power armor helmet before something tore it to pieces, and a pair of sunglasses he’d picked up from a miscellaneous shop vendor that was a bit grumpy that all he’d bought from her was a cheap pair of glasses.

As he shows her his haul, Patches shakes her head and waves a hoof over all of it as she says, “I really don’t see how you’re plannin’ on makin’ a functional helmet like what you’re describin’ out o’ all o’ this… a bit o’ extra head armor, maybe. But fully functional?” She grabs the sunglasses and holds them up with her levitation field, rotating it in the space between them as she stares at it and asks, “And what the hell you gonna do with these?”

Gearing grins at her as he says, “You’d be surprised what I’m pretty good at jury-rigging together with parts. Trust me; I know what I’m doing. It’s not the first time I’ve had to improvise repairs.”

She sets the sunglasses back into his pile of supplies as she says, “Well, alright Mr. Knows-it-all… Tell ya what… you can use my equipment… and if you can get that thing workin’ like ya describin’, and show me... Well...” She looks at him and smirks as she says, “I’ll help ya find the rest of what ya need, free of charge! Cuz I don’t think ya can do it!” She reaches over and taps his shoulder as she says, “But if ya can’t you gotta draw me up some diagrams of that there ya wearin’.”

Gearing looks at her hoof on his shoulder then up at her as he asks with a raised eyebrow, “There a time limit on this?”

She waves it away. “How ‘bout a week? If ya need more parts, that’s fair, but don’t go tryin’ to buy another helmet and tryin’ to say you done made it. I’ll know!” She turns and starts walking away as she says, “I’ll go let the night detail know you’re cleared to use my equipment so they don’t shoot ya somethin’.”

Gearing chuckles as he sits down at the small work table with the little light on it. “That’d be appreciated… Thanks.”

She spins around and starts walking backwards as she calls after him as an after thought. “Oh! And I think I got a lead on a fire suit jacket… They’ll be gettin’ back with me tomorrow.” She spins back around and waves as she says, “Night!”

Gearing waves it away and gets to work. Not even an hour goes by before the tan mare security guard from that morning walks by with a set of rifles on her battle saddle. She pauses as she sees him hunched over the tiny table and asks, “Hey… Patches said you were working on something special… how’s it coming?”

Gearing turns to look at her, then holds up the mostly disassembled section of the face guard, with all of the plates removed to give access to the circuitry underneath. He holds it up to his own face, then taps on the side as he faces her. The lenses of the metal mask blink rapidly a few times, then glow a faint gentle red, looking out at her like they had red glowing eyes. “Decent progress. Thankfully what circuitry damage there was was so obvious it wasn’t hard to fix, instead of wasting tons of time trying to back trace minor faults in it.”

She blinks a few times at it and, after he clicks the button again to turn it off, shakes her head as she smiles. “Well, I hope that’s worth missing a night of sleep over, cuz she’s not going to let her booth be confiscated during normal open hours.”

Gearing nods as he goes back to working on the helmet pieces. “Oh, it’ll be worth it once it’s done. No problem there.”

She waves and leaves him to it as she continues doing a quick patrol of the floor.

* * *

The obnoxious white buck with the whiney voice, that’d been told to leave Megamart, sits on a wagon fender by his haunches in the alcove of a bombed out building. He and his four companions crowd around a small campfire as he tosses one small bit of wood after another into the fire grumpily. More as an idle act than feeding the fire. All while the Hoofington weather proves its disdain for surface life with a steady rain and random flashes of menacing lightening.

The black stallion in the brown duster takes his hat off and rubs his mane with a hoof as he says, “I hope we have enough supplies to get this done. I’m really tapped out.”

The brown buck to his right nods as he looks over at the white stallion, who is taking up almost one whole side of the fire himself as he sits with his back to the concrete wall of the alcove, and comments, “I just wish we could have got some decent food to go with all that ammo we bought.”

The white stallion looks over at them and tosses another stick in the fire as he stares out past his friends at the rainy night beyond. “We’ll have so much money we’ll be able to buy all the top notch food we want when this is over. We had to spend everything, or else we wouldn’t have been able to buy all that special ammo they had…” He lets out a sigh as he grumbles, “We didn’t get a whole lot to begin with, but something is bound to work on her.”

The white buck holds up a metal apple as he grins. “And the stun grenades weren’t cheap, but we only have to catch her with one to end this whole thing and start our own gravy train!”

The brown buck frowns as he asks, “That again? Seriously? You already got that one crazy looking buck pissed off at you over that.” He turns his head and looks over his shoulder at the darkness beyond the small firelight as he asks, “You sure we shouldn’t keep going?” The weather seems to agree with the ominous statement as a flash of light and a crack of thunder echoes out across The Hoof, lighting up the night sky before he can say anything else.

The white stallion shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “I’m not going any further in this shit ass weather. No point in getting sick.”

“But… what about-”

“He was just talking out his ass!” the white stallion cuts him off. “He probably wants the bounty for himself and was just trying to scare us away.” He waves a hoof dismissively, “I asked around, he was still hiding in the manager’s office when we left. We’ll be fine. He’s probably back there in a cot in Megamart pissing himself hoping we don’t come for him…” He nods as he says, “He’s probably thankful security showed up when they did before we did something. Chicken shit…”

The brown buck slowly shakes his head as he says, “I don’t think so… He was way too calm for that. Something’s up with that buck, I tell ya. We shouldn’t be just sitting here waiting on him to ambush us.”

The white stallion waves a hoof as he gives him a wide smile. “You woooorry too much. What the hell’s he going to do? Mean stare at us from under that ratty blanket of his? Couldn’t even afford a proper coat or cloak. Tell ya what… once we get the bounty, I’ll use part of my share and put a bounty on his ass, then he can see what it feels like to be Security for a bit.” He starts laughing as he waves his forehoof dismissively as the sky lights up from a lightning strike somewhere. “Trust me, that’s the last we’ll see of that dumbass!” The respectable micro explosion of thunder crashes against their eardrums and nearly drowns out the end of his sentence.

A crack sound comes from behind the white stallion as small fragments of cement scatter out and fall down behind him from an unseen source.

The white stallion’s forehoof flops down onto his hindleg, as the massive grin on his face slacks and he starts leaning backwards.

The brown buck starts straightening up as he asks, “Hey… you okay over-” He stops mid sentence as a trail of blood comes from under the white stallion’s mane’s long bangs, right between his eyes, and breaks around his muzzle into two separate streams as he starts falling backward off of the wagon fender. The sudden motion backwards exposes enough of his forehead in the campfire light that they can see the small circular red source of the blood stream currently covering the front of his face.

And after he’s slumped backwards entirely, and is no longer blocking their view, they get a clear picture of the concrete wall of the alcove behind him. It’s then that the source of the recent rock disturbance becomes clear as they see the bloody pockmark in the concrete surrounded by bits of the white stallion’s mane and gray matter.

The others jump to the ground and roll away from the fire as the black stallion screams, “Sniper!” They all start crawling around on their bellies, kicking and throwing things onto the fire to snuff it out and kill the light as they try to stay out of sight.

“Where’d that shot come from?!” the brown buck asks as he looks around in a panic.

“Hell if I know, I never heard the shot!” the black stallion replies.

After the fire’s out, they crawl around their small camp, and further into the alcove until they have managed to crawl into a pocket underneath a fallen concrete pillar and can be sure that no one could have a direct line of sight to them without making that turn. Which would let them see each other easily. They stay there all night, watching the white stallion’s body, as they dare not go to sleep for fear of whoever got their friend will get them in their sleep as well.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 50%

Gravity Differential alignment at 62%

Gravity Differential alignment at 75%

52 Learning Curve

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cross trots through the assembly area of the Stormfront primary compound as she floats a clipboard in front of herself. As she’s passing one of the full combat biosuit wearing members of her unit, who’s lounging across a crate, she asks, “Have you seen Nitro? I wanted to go over a couple spell matrix formulas with him before he has to go in for that Stable-Tec test.”

They turn into a copy of Gearing with a flash of green flame, oversized flight suit, goggles, and all, and then start doing a bunch of wingups on the floor in front of Cross as he says with Gearing’s rebreatherly modulated voice, “Yeah, he’s in the transport maintenance wing getting some exercise. Hammer’s helping him with his Stable-Tec homework and cramming for the technical part of the test.”

Cross nods and smiles as she heads towards the maintenance bay. “Thanks, Mouse!”

He hops up and waves a hoof at her as he angrily yells, “I’m not Mouse, I’m Snake!”

Cross rolls her eyes as she says without even looking, “No you’re not, I can actually tell you two apart you know.”

The Gearing doppelganger practically deflates as he says, “Aaawww nuts… You just got lucky this time, that’s all!” Then shakes his hoof at her, and continues to do so even after returning to their normal full biosuit wearing form with another flash of green flame.

Cross walks in through the door to the transport maintenance wing as she continues to flip through the papers on the clipboard. As she’s walking over towards where a piece of equipment would be getting worked on, if it needed it, she blindly zeros in on their location as she hears the voices of who she’s searching for.

“So the max load of pumps is a function involving the amount of water, or throughput, and the length and diameter of the pipes, which causes a loss over distance?” Gearing asks thoughtfully.

“That’s right, and you never want to overtax them. Make sure whatever pumps you’re wanting to use are not only designed and rated to handle the throughput, but can handle the extra energy loss that happens along the way by pipe friction, etc.,” Hammer replies happily.

“Would doing calculations factoring it at eighty percent of the max capacity as the baseline for the pump be a good rule, or? Like with electronics’ recommended maximum verses technical maximum?”

Hammer shrugs. “That entirely depends on the scenario. With a government contract and a Canterlot blank check? Sure, buy whatever you need as long as you can afford upkeep. Others would prefer more tighter controls because pumps get practically exponentially more expensive at a certain point.”

Cross walks up to the platform and lowers the clipboard blocking her view as she has a question of her own, but says nothing as her eyes go wide and take in the scene in the center of the vertibuck landing pad.

Gearing looks at her sideways, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, and grins as he waves a forehoof at her, while continuing to do one steady wingup after another. Though now the flight suit he’s wearing has been tailored to better fit him, removing the need for all of the previous straps that were on him, and he’s not bothering with any of the headgear anymore as he has several books, notebooks, and diagrams in front of, and under, his muzzle. “Hiya, Cross! What’s up?”

Hammer looks over at her from her seated position and the grin across her muzzle just grows wider as the two maintain hard eye contact.

From her position on top of Gearing’s back, facing backwards with her flank planted right on his shoulders, her hind legs stretched across the length of his back, and her forehooves on his lower back. Or, more accurately, on the upper part of his rear as her forehooves have been slowly sliding further away from her until she is, quite blatantly, groping the endlessly exercising little pegasus under her.

Cross’s eyes stay locked on Hammer’s, and thus jump up and down as Hammer is lifted and lowered with each one of Gearing’s cycles. After a few more cycles, where Hammer silently giggles, Cross asks, “What’s going on here?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Hammer’s helping me cram for my Stable-Tec tests. Most of it’s pretty straight forward, but I wanna make sure they aren’t going to throw any trick questions at me just because I’m a ‘distance learner’.”

“And the wingups?” Cross asks as she stares at Hammer, who just plasters a wider grin across her muzzle as she’s obviously enjoying the ride.

Gearing shrugs. “Even I need exercise. I know it doesn’t make sense given my… constitution?’ He looks over at Cross as he says, “I figure if I stress test myself enough I can force some growth, like how muscles are grown by damaging them repeatedly and letting them heal back stronger.”

“Sounds like you’ve been reading Tower’s fitness magazines,” Hammer comments as she holds herself in place while looking at Cross.

Gearing bops his head around as he goes back to looking at the book under his face. “That’s where I got the idea for the added weight.” He points behind himself with a hoof as he says, “Hammer said me starting off with a cargo container was too much, and I’d needed to work myself up to that, so she volunteered to sit on my back and help me with my studies at the same time.” He looks over at Cross and grins. “It’s a real time saving solution! I get so much more done this way!”

Hammer stretches out just a bit further, with a flat hoof on each of Gearing’s flanks as she mouths at Cross, ‘I just love fliers!’ and lets her tongue hang out a bit rather obscenely.

Cross’s eyes flare wide open and her horn glows with an even brighter overglow as a whitish blue apparition of a large folded up paper fan appears above Hammer and starts swatting Hammer on the top of her head as she says, “No! Bad!” Hammer starts laughing as she partially closes her eyes and jumps up and off of Gearing as she giggles and waves her hooves to try and ward off the phantasmal folded paper.

Gearing looks up at the ceiling and asks, “Hey, Cross… is it raining outside?”

Cross looks over at him as she pauses swatting Hammer. “Uhm… no, I don’t think so… Why?”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks up at the dark ceiling high above. “I think we got a ceiling leak… My shoulders feel like their damp all of a sudden.”

Cross jerks her focus to look over at Hammer, who quickly clamps her hindlegs together and flushes as she tilts her head and gives a sheepish smile before she mouths ‘Maybe?’ The two start running around the maintenance bay as Cross chases after Hammer with her phantom folded paper as she yells, “Bad! No! He’s not a washing machine! Bad, bad, bad!”

Gearing watches them run around before he rolls his eyes and goes back to his homework. “Mares are weird…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning is signaled by a sudden burst of traffic within Megamart as ponies begin their day of shopping, bartering, and hawking one type of good or another. Before the new day’s light is even noticeable from the inside of the shopping center at that. Though the clouds probably have a lot to do with that side of things. Gearing meets with Handy and Swift to put together a plan for the day and discovers things, for once, seem to be starting to go in their favor. Swift had managed to sell or barter off all of the excess they had, including the mountain of weaponry that Gearing had brought in, over the course of the previous day. In the process of all of that, they’d made a few inquiries and connections, and are planning on spending the day sorting out what they need to do to get the remaining parts. Unfortunately they have to wait until one of the vendor’s friends gets back before they can get the information on the largest chunks of needed equipment. But they’re going to be busy enough with shopping and such it shouldn’t be a problem. They’ve already paid for another night in the Megamart ‘hotel’, which was little more than a couple rows of cots.

EDF barracks chic at it’s finest. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head quips.

Although the delaying predicament does give Gearing plenty of time to try and track down his own leads while the others stay around Megamart chasing and waiting on information. Gearing spends a while walking around the inside of Megamart, trying to see if he sees that mare with the white coat from the day before. He doesn’t really need the help, but from what she’d been talking about, she knows the area pretty well. And that could mean getting this over faster.

But, after circumventing the entire shopping area and not seeing hide nor hair of the black-maned mare, he heads for the entrance. He’s not sure if she’d still be hanging around, or has already moved on after learning that the huge bounty was on Security, but he figures he might as well check around the mob out front.

By the time he’s through with all of his searching and conversing inside of Megamart, it’s already past mid-morning by the time he makes it to the front entrance.

But, just inside the doors, a pair of bucks jump at him and scream as they see the mottled blanket wearing form emerge through the crowd.

“That’s him! That’s the murderer!” the brown buck screams as he looks back at the Megamart security watching the front door.

“He shot him dead in cold blood!” chimes in the black buck in the duster jacket.

Looks like their two friends weren’t stupid enough to come back. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says with a sigh as it floats around belly side up with it’s forehooves lazily folded behind his head.

That, or they’re waiting outside to ambush us…

He shrugs his blue shoulders while still floating in the same position. Swift just off loaded what she had, might be able to use some more crap to swap…

The tan mare with the twin rifles on her battle saddle turns and looks at them as she points a hoof at Gearing. “Wait… Him?!”

The black buck spins around and yells, “Yes him! Shot him right in the head as he was sitting and minding his own business!”

“Kept us pinned down all night under a bunch of concrete so we wouldn’t get our heads blown off too!” the brown buck adds.

The tan mare raises an eyebrow then looks between them as she shakes her head. “Kept you pinned down all night? No. No way. That’s not possible.”

The brown buck rolls his eyes as he says, “Yes it’s possible! He even said he’d do it yesterday! Right to his face!”

“Said he’d get him in 24 hours!” the black buck nods as he tries to remind security of the fight they had to break up the day before. “Don’t you remember?”

The brown buck scrunches up his face and looks down as he says, “Didn’t even last the night… I knew we shoulda kept moving…”

“What I remember… was you being told to leave and go about your business… And he stayed behind and tended to his own business here,” the mottled green mare says as she walks over from her side of the security line.

The black buck looks at her and drops his jaw. “You’re still going to do nothing, after he killed him, after he said he was going to kill him?!”

The tan mare looks over at Keystone and shakes her head. “There’s no way it was him. I saw him several times in Patches’ booth working on armor while on patrol.”

The black buck looks over at her and his eyes go wide as he practically screeches, “You’re gonna cover for him!?”

The tan mare looks over at the black buck and scowls. “I’m not covering, just telling the truth. I don’t see how he could have shot your friend, if he was too busy working on some kind of a helmet.”

“But-” the brown buck starts but gets cut off by the green and brown hided mare.

“Know what, I don’t give a shit if he did it!” They all look at her in surprise. “We’re not covering for anyone. Maybe he did it. Maybe he didn’t. I don’t give a shit. What I do care about, is what happens here, in Megamart… And since I don’t see a body, it happened elsewhere. So if you got a problem with him, it’s between you and him and we’re not involved… but keep your shit out of here or you’re going to have a problem with me.”

“This is fucking bullshit, Megamart is supposed to be neutral ground,” the brown buck says with a sneer.

“And it is… That’s why I’m telling you to keep your hostilities outside,” Keystone quips.

The black buck points at Gearing and frowns as he says, “Oh, I get it, you’re protecting him. Going to just let him stay here forever until he can hunt down the rest of us?”

Gearing starts walking forward as he says, “If it will help resolve the situation quicker. I’ll be more than glad to step outside with you…” He tilts his head as he glares out at them from under the cloak. “I’m pretty sure convincing you won’t take up too much of my day…”

Before he gets too far to the door the green and brown mare puts a hoof out and puts it to his chest, holding him back, which he respectfully complies and comes to a halt, as she says, “You two need to get out of here before I let him mop the floor with you. You’ve started enough trouble already, but I’m really not wanting a mess to clean up. So go on.” She kicks her battle saddle, chambering new rounds as she scowls and yells, “Get!”

The pair hurry up and leave as they mutter and look over their shoulder every so often to see if they’re being followed. But they do make good on getting out of sight quickly.

Gearing looks at Keystone as he says, “Thanks, but I didn’t need your protection… I can take care of myself.”

The tan mare frowns as she says, “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to deal with shit because someone else got whacked while you weren’t even around. Right, Keystone?”

“Yeah… about that…” the green and brown mare says as she looks Gearing over. “So… we’d walked by on patrol when you were working in Patches’ booth…” She looks over at the tan mare for a moment before looking back at Gearing. “I had to use the bathroom, and took a shortcut back not long after… funnily enough… You weren’t there that time. Even though we just passed you. And not long after that I found the roof access door propped open with a bit of wire just thick enough to keep it from latching…” She looks over at the tan mare, and sees the growing disbelief on her face before she adds, “But when we swung by during our next round… you were back and hard at work. Like nothing had changed…”

She reaches up and scratches the side of her muzzle as she says with a chuckle, “A lotta earth ponies keep forgetting roof access is as good of a road as any for a pegasus… Don’t they?” She glances over at the tan security mare and grins before she looks back at Gearing.

Gearing looks over at the tan mare and shakes his head. “Thank you for speaking up. About what you’d seen I mean. But, Keystone’s right.” He shrugs then stretches out his right wing enough to draw her attention to his wing fluttering at his side. “Yeah. I did it.” He reaches up with a hoof and taps himself on the forehead as he says, “Right where I marked the spot even. I’m not going to lie about it… Hell, I told him it was going to happen.”

The tan mare’s eyes go wide as she asks, “Why’d you just murder him?”

“Security,” Keystone says as she looks at Gearing sideways. “Right? Bottlecap told me what the sick fuck had in mind.”

Gearing points at Keystone and says flatly, “And the mare wins the prize.” He nods as he looks around. “So… gonna ban me too?”

Keystone takes in a deep breath before shaking her head. “No… I happen to like Security. Can’t wait until our next card game, actually. So I can’t blame you there.” She reaches over and puts a hoof to his cloaked nose as she says, “But, like Bottlecap said, stop threatening folks inside of Megamart… You wanna run around wasting trash, your business… But don’t bring any trouble here, got it?”

Gearing nods as he says, “Noted and no problem.”

Keystone grins then waves her hoof around dismissively. “Great, then we don’t have a problem… Now… Stop blocking the door, would ya? They look like they’ve already hightailed it, so in or out, but not in the way.”

Gearing looks around and sees that traffic has actually stopped because of the commotion involving him, again, and quickly slips through the crowd and back outside.

Once he’s through the mob of ponies that are busy with their own dealings with Megamart, he sees the camp across the road and notices that it’s depressingly about the same size. But, one thing he does notice is that there are a lot of new faces among the crowds. So maybe his outlandish declarations did stir a few hearts and move them along their way to greener, less evil, pastures.

Or they could have left to go after her. The little blue pegasus in his head says before getting swatted back into his steam chest for his unnecessary comments.

Either way, that’d mean the new faces were new, and either don’t care or haven’t heard about the bounty hunter hunter. It doesn’t take long for the weight of the near futility of the situation to land on Gearing. Greed is just one of those forces that’s hard to move and sway. But, it doesn’t mean he’s going to stop. He slowly starts walking towards the group as he debates on giving them all a verbal assault, just to make sure those still there knows that he is too, and for those new arrivals to know just what the true score is.

But he gets stopped not far after crossing the road by a familiar voice.

“Yeah, you know what? I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go over there right now.”

Gearing turns his head and sees the mare in the long white coat as she’s walking up to him from the side. “Oh, hey, Dandy.”

She strolls over to him as she keeps her focus on the mob of bounty hunters not far away. “The rumor mill’s going full speed. All kinds of talk about some super psycho zebra commando getting hired by Security to track down and kill everypony that’s after the bounty on her…” She returns to look at him as she raises an eyebrow and says softly, “Apparently another would-be-hunter died when he got his head blown off last night?” She arcs her other eyebrow as she asks, “Was that you?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks over at her. “Yes, but it’s not like I’m targeting them all… That guy just needed to be introduced to a special place in Tartarus already reserved for him.”

“Uh huh…” she says with a huff as she eyeballs him. “So, you coming over to try and convince the rest of them to give it up? I gotta warn ya, there’s more of them willing to fight this time, so that’d probably be a very bad idea for you to do that.”

Gearing looks at her out of the corner of his eye and points a hoof sideways at her. “Well, let them fight among themselves then. Saves others the hassle… but I was hoping to find you actually.”

She smirks as she tilts her head. “Ohhh? What’d you have in mind?”

Gearing turns his head towards her as he says, “You hear of a buck named Cookie?”

Her eyes go wide as she replies, “Oh… wow… When you said you’d go after other bounties, you weren’t talking about chumps, were you?”

He turns completely and gives her his undivided attention as he says, “I take it that you do know about him?”

She looks around as she frowns. “Yeah… he’s on my company’s list too. I’ve been thinking about it... but…” She shivers. “That guy’s a monster…”

Gearing tilts his head and actually grins as he says, “Well… maybe we can use one to take one down… hmm?”

She looks at him and smirks as she says, “Buck, you’ve got some brass to be looking to take down Cookie… even with help.”

He stares at her and says flatly, “You have no idea…”

She giggles and rolls her eyes. “Well, okay… Here’s what I know.” She takes in a deep breath, practically puffing up, before she says, “There’s quite a few rumors about him. But the one thing that’s universally understood is that he’s a sadistic rapist. He will rape anyone and anything. And I do mean anything… I was talking to this one mare that managed to escape a caravan attack, and from where she’d hid she said she saw him just go down the line. Fucking everything from one end of the caravan to the other. Bucks. Mares. The brahmin. Living, or dead, he didn’t care. Hell, she swore on Celestia, Luna, the stars, and the next forty generations of her kids that she watched him rape the wagon they were pulling!” She cringes as she arcs an eyebrow. “And then he apparently burnt it with his massive flamethrower for ‘biting his dick’ when he probably got a splinter in it or something.”

She lets out the rest of the air in her lungs in a sigh before she says, “And he’s a tough bastard to boot. A few that have managed to crawl away from him always have burns and, from them, it’s pretty well known that he’s got a scorching kink or something… He likes to burn his victims. Before, during, after? All of the above? I don’t know if it’s the smell, the screams, or what, but that just seems to get him harder.”

She looks Gearing over as she smiles. “So… you into a little butt play or something?”

Gearing snickers as he says, “I’m a bit sensitive about who plays with my ass…”

She starts laughing as she nods. “Yeah. Me too! And as a mare I can tell ya, I’m not interested in any of my holes getting plugged by that lunatic.”

Gearing looks her over for a moment before he asks, “Well… you got any idea where they’re hiding out at?”

She bobs her head around as she says, “Yeah, he’s not exactly hard to track… just follow the smell and burnt corpses.” She looks him over as she asks, “Why? You thinking about going alone?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Well, he’s someone that needs to be taken down… I’m probably the best buck for the job. So might as well.”

She starts walking over as she asks, “Ouuu… So confident… But… What makes you think I’m going to let you do it alone?” She strolls over and leans sideways looking at him as she grins. “He’s one of the bigger bounties in the area… and if you’re that sure… maybe we can do it… I was going to get a group to hunt him down, but with just two it’s only a two way split.”

Gearing shrugs as he looks around. “Works for me. You got the info. I can handle it. Sounds like a good team.”

She pulls back and looks at him with a raised eyebrow, looking more than a little offended by the statement. “Excuse me? What, you think I’m going to just stand by while you march in there and take care of everything yourself?” She leans in and yells into the side of his cowl, “I’m not some tender hoof here!”

Gearing turns his head to face her again and her over as he asks, “So, when are you ready to go?”

She stamps a hoof into the ground as she says, “Right this damn instant if you want!”

Gearing turns and starts heading back to Megamart. “Great. I’ll be right back. If we’re risking getting roasted, I gotta put something away.” He runs off, leaving her to sit in the road staring at him in disbelief as she contemplates exactly what he meant. When he gets back he asks, “Which way?”

She blinks a few times then points back at Megamart. “You’re worried about your shit getting burned? I’d be worried about my ass if I were you!”

Gearing nods as he says, “Yes, as has been pointed out before, my toosh is sensitive to getting scorched as well… But sensitive equipment will get absolutely destroyed.”

She shakes her head and turns off to the side as she points back nearly straight north. “If we head that way, there’s a few of the business districts. It’s not terribly far, but we can make it there and back in the same day.” She shrugs. “Just a matter if getting there and back is going to be an information gathering expedition, because we can’t handle it, or a victory lap because we did.”

Gearing starts walking in the direction indicated as he says, “I’ll be planning on the latter… I need some caps to get my armor fixed.”

Dandy trots along next to him as she asks, “Well, as long as it holds up to this we should be fine. You bring any potions?” Gearing shakes his head and she scowls as she asks, “Well why the hell not?”

Gearing keeps looking forward as he says, “If I get hit with a flamer, it’s going to ruin them anyway. Break the glass. Spill them out. Shatter them. So it’d just be a waste.”

She raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Don’t you think you’d have bigger concerns with being on fire and all?”

Gearing waves a hoof as he says, “Eh… there’s worse things that could happen.”

She starts snickering as she says, “Yeah, okay… if you say so…” She points off a bit at an angle as she says, “There’s a Pony Joes further up that way, let’s avoid it…” She looks around as she adds, “Security already cleared it out of the raiders that were there, but those places have a tendency of attracting them. And I’d rather not walk into a raider nest if I’m not getting paid for it.”

Gearing looks at her sideways as he grins. “But raider nests are great for filling the saddle bags, ya know?”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she leads him through one neighborhood of demolished buildings after another. As they turn down a stretch that’s leading to a warehouse, Gearing’s ears jump up in alarm before he jumps to the side, grabs Dandy, and tumbles behind a pile of rubble. A moment later the report from a rifle washes down the roadway as Gearing screams, “Sniper!”

Gearing scoots in closer to the rubble pile, keeping it between them and the shooter as he curves over and around Dandy.

She lets out a groan and asks, “How’d the hell you know?!”

Gearing tilts his head and whispers, but it’s directed more at her neck because of the positions they are in, “I saw the muzzle flash. They’re in the attic window of that warehouse at the end of the street…”

“Think they’re Halfhearts?” Dandy asks as she tries to reorient herself while flat on her back. Her eyes go a bit wider as she looks down while she starts squirming around. “W- watch the leg,” she mutters softly.

“Highly doubt it, nah. This has gotta be someone else,” Gearing responds as he leans forward a bit more to try and see down the road.

“Oh, well, shit-” Her eyes go wide as she says, “H-Hey!” She scowls as she starts flushing, “Watch where you’re putting your hindleg!”

“Oh, sorry,” he says as he straightens out his hindleg more to avoid invading her extra-personal personal space anymore.

“Better be sorry, try getting fresh like that again and I’ll shoot you!” she yells as her cream colored face continues reddening by the moment.

He looks around as he says, “Shit, I think I’m going to have to make a hole over here to get us out.”

She looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “What, we’re safe here aren’t we- Shit!”

Gearing looks to the side in time to see a lit stick of dynamite sail through the air, arced over the pile of rubble they are hiding behind, and headed straight towards them.

Dandy’s horn glows, and a moment later the dynamite stick glows with the same aura before it gets flicked off to fly back towards where it came from

A couple shouts of surprise greet their ears before the dynamite detonates in mid air as it was in route back to sender.

Gearing grabs Dandy as he’s getting up, yanking her up and onto her hooves, before he starts running across the street and screaming, “Over here!” She follows behind and is about to yell at him to stop, before he jumps and crashes through a door boarded up with plywood. It strikes her as odd, to say the least, but any opening to get out of this death trap is a good opening, and she follows him straight through. The only way of immediate exit is an empty doorframe to the left, which they both bolt through and are already heading into the warehouse next door before another stick of dynamite explodes in the building they had just left.

Gearing looks over his shoulder at her as they are running and asks, “You know this area at all?!”

She nods. “A little!”

Gearing moves over and lets her pass him as he nods ahead. “Well, that’s better than me. You lead the way.”

She quickly gets in the front and leads him on a two horse stampede through one building after another. Outside, every now and then, their attackers catch a glimpse of movement, and shoot into the building at them blindly. The bullets punch through the walls and smash out glass to end up hitting nothing more than trash and debris, but it’s still problematic. It only takes one well placed lucky shot to put an end to a pony. And in this instance they don’t really have much to do in the way of defensive actions except to try to get into a position where they might be able to launch a counterattack.

Dandy runs around a bit inside of a storage room as she waits on Gearing to catch up. As he’s entering she points off to the right as she says, “Several places have been blocked up in here because of collapses or some shit. If we head through here we should be able to head out through the welcome foyer.” She leads off back the way they’d come and turns to take a new hallway. As they are entering the foyer area, just past where segments of wall poke in from both sides of the hallway to mark where a set of large double doors used to be, Dandy tosses a few small blocks of metal at various points inside the foyer as she levitates out a pair of small pistols from inside of her white coat.

She looks around as she says softly, “I don’t know about you… but I’ve been getting the feeling like we’re being herded… and I don’t like it.”

Gearing looks around as he nods. “Yeah… some of their shots seemed to be just a tad too inaccurate… If you know what I mean…”

She slowly spins around with her pistols at the ready, looking at the three closed doors along the room’s perimeter as she says softly, “I smell trouble… of the unwashed rat eating kind…”

She slowly starts walking towards one of the side doors with both of her pistols focused on it before she gets tapped on her shoulder. She looks over to see Gearing grabbing her with a hoof and gently pulling her back.

Had anyone else that had practically just met her tried that, they might have gotten shot. Repeatedly. But the lovely little device he’s showing her more than makes up for it to the point of putting a smile on her face.

Gearing lowers his PipBuck laden leg and slowly looks around as he kicks on his Eyes Forward Sparkle.

Sure enough. Behind the set of doors on the left and right side are both two side by side pairs of red bars. Outside the front door, evenly spaced out and not moving, are another four. Gearing leans in and whispers into her ear, relaying this information as he pulls out his rifle and aims at the door to the left, with her getting next to him and aiming at the door on the right.

After a few minutes longer of nothing happening, a buck’s voice yells from the door on the right, “They’re onto us. They’ve got guns pointed at both side doors.”

Gearing quickly looks around with his EFS as he watches the red bars shift around a bit, but not really move otherwise. So Gearing gets a smirk on his face as he yells out, “Yeah. I can see all of your buddies just fine… Hell of an ambush, great job… But how about you guys give this up and go fuck yourself another day, hmm?”

Dandy snickers as she says, “Ya know… I’ve heard of aggressive negotiations, and backhoofed compliments, but never the two combined…”

A voice from the front door yells in, “The hell we will! I’m not spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I’m taking your ass out now, and pay you back for what you did last night.”

Gearing looks over at the door, then at Dandy before he yells out, “This about that whiny ass white buck I gave the lobotomy to this morning?”

“Son of a bitch I knew it was you!” another familiar voice comes from behind the front door.

“Well, anyway I can convince you to just go away? I mean, I wasn’t after you all, just him,” Gearing asks.

“The hell we’ll believe that. Besides. You already said you’ll hunt down any bounty hunter that claims Security’s bounty. So we’re at a bit of an impasse on those grounds if nothing else.”

Well, we wanted to draw agro… Agro confirmed. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says with a scowl.

“I’ll tell ya what,” comes the second voice. “You throw down your weapons, and surrender… and the mare in the white coat can go… We’ve got no business with her anyway. Just you.”

Dandy looks over at Gearing and raises an eyebrow, but both jump up in alarm as he asks, “If I drop my weapons, you’ll let her go, right?”

“Sure, I’ll agree to that. She just has to back out the way ya’ll came, nice and easy like. We don’t want to hurt her, but we will if we have to.”

Dandy scoffs as she says, “The hell they’ll actually do that.”

Gearing nods as he says, “Alright. You got a deal.”

Dandy turns her head around and looks at him as her jaws practically on the floor.

“I’ll drop my rifle, and she gets to go. What’s between us is between us right?”

Dandy shakes her head as she says, “You gotta be out of your mind, they’ll fucking kill you!”

Gearing looks at her and says flatly, “We are at a tactical disadvantage. They have us in a crossfire. The moment they spring their trap this room’s getting full of lead.” He shakes his head. “This doesn’t involve you. Go ahead and go.”

She scowls as she says, “The hell I will! I’m not gonna just abandon you like that!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and says, “Just… go… please…”

She shakes her head. “Hell no!” Gearing lets out a sigh and starts slowly lowering his rifle and she hisses at him the whole way as she says, “No! Don’t! What are you doing! Pick that back up!”

Gearing lowers the rifle to the ground then slowly stands up as he says, “Alright, I put my rifle down. Now let her go!”

A voice from the right room confirms, “He’s dropped his rifle alright, but she’s still pointing her guns at our door.”

The front door slowly cracks open and the brown bucks voice calls in, “Show’s over… just back on out of there. We’ll do what we came to do, and you’ll get to live another day. Don’t be stupid.”

Gearing waves her away with a hoof as he says, “Please. Just go.” After a moment of not moving he says softly, “It’ll be alright. Really.”

She scowls and looks around, and the scowl only gets worse as she sees the other doors opening and the faces poking out at her. “God dammit…” She turns sideways and starts backing up and away from the front door as she keeps a gun pointed at each of the side doors. She looks at Gearing and keeps nodding with her head to follow her as she says softly, “You can’t just stand there and let them kill you… Not for my sake… Don’t you dare pull that shit.”

Gearing turns to wave at her dismissively as he says, “It’s just a matter of numbers. This way things work out for the best.”

She slowly backs up as she scowls but stops just inside the next set of doors to the foyer, where there’s a bit of wall on either side of the doorframe for her to duck behind if need be, as she stands there and keeps her weapons pointed straight ahead at the front door behind Gearing.

The front door opens and the group of four from outside slowly walk in as they look around, followed by the groups coming from the side doors.

Gearing turns around slowly to look at the brown buck and the black buck in the duster as he asks, “So, you’re really this far gone that you’d kill people simply for being an obstacle to doing something else horrible?”

The brown buck stomps up and gets in Gearing’s face, kicking away the rifle from him as he says, “Don’t give me that shit! You killed him like a fucking coward! How do you feel about it now, huh?! Now that you’re out in broad daylight, with nowhere to hide, not so tough now are you?”

Gearing looks around as he smirks and asks, “I don’t suppose you gentlestallions have enough honor to grant a request for single hoof to hoof combat?”

The black stallion laughs as he says, “Oh, hell no. I don’t think so.”

One of the bucks that’d come from the right room agrees, “No, I don’t think so either. Zebra commando or whatever the hell you are. You’re hooves are just as dangerous as that damn rifle. I was there when you splattered that old buck’s head across the ground.”

Gearing turns his head slowly looking at each of them in turn as he asks softly, “Is there no way I can convince you to give this up?”

The brown buck looks at the black stallion as he laughs, “You see this?! He was right! This little shit’s just a coward if you confront him! Begging for his life like that!”

Dandy scowls and her eyes dart from one of her floating pistols to the other as she grits her teeth and watches the situation. A stinging sensation develops in her eyes from a barrage of conflicting emotions.

The black buck looks past Gearing at her and says, “Hey… look darlin’… you did good staying by his side as long as you did… but he ain’t worth dying for… so…” He waves her away dismissively. “You just go ahead and go… You don’t need to see what’s coming to this fuck.”

Dandy glares at him as she growls through gritted teeth, “I could just blast your damn head off from here…”

The brown buck chuckles as he looks over Gearing at her and smiles. “Yeah… The problem with that…. Is you’ve only got two, and there’s eight of us.”

Her eyes dart around for a few moments before she closes them and takes in a deep breath. “So… you’re really going to kill him… just because he was trying to stop you from killing Security… Is that what’s going on?”

The brown buck waves at Gearing as he says, “Yeah, he killed our friend to stop him, so he’s probably going to be after us next.”

She lowers her head as she grits her teeth. “I see.”

“Good… so… do as the buck said.” The brown buck shoos her away with a forehoof as he gives her a malicious smile. “And get out of here… before something bad happens to you.”

She slowly looks up at him, and at the others, as her horn seems to glow just a bit more as she grits her teeth even harder. And, through her gritted teeth, she grumbles, “There’s just one problem with that.”

Her mouth melts from a pained angry gritted-into sneer, into an easy smile as she says with her eyes partially closed. “Your math? It’s a bit off.”

Every one of the eight ponies freeze and their eyes go wide as they feel something press into the sides of their respective heads.

Gearing looks around and sees that each of the ponies around him has a blocky bit of metal pressed into the side of their head. But, from his view, one of them seems to have a small lever on the back side of it as the front of the little blocks push into the skulls of the ponies surrounding him.

The brown buck’s wide eyes dart around, and after he sees the little blocks floating around he sneers as he says, “She’s bluffing! It’s just a damn horn head trick!”

She tilts her head and smiles as she says, “Well… Darlin’… if you think I’m bluffing, give it a try and I’ll show you just how serious I am.” She pops him in the head repeatedly with the little block as she keeps her cone of vision set up so she can see all of them simultaneously.

The black stallion yells, “Just fucking kill them both-” and starts shooting Gearing with the semi automatic rifle on his battle saddle. The brown buck also starts shooting his pump action shotgun, and the one to his left manages to get a few rounds off from a mouth gripped SMG.

But simultaneously, around the entire circle, the little boxes make a little popping noise, and the buck they were pressed into slumps to the ground. Gearing had held up his right foreleg to try and ward off the incoming rounds, but only managed to block a few of the tail ends of the combined burst from hitting his chest and face. As he’s sitting there, he looks around at the corpses around him, which are confirmed KIA by the complete lack of a reading on his EFS, before he looks up at the little boxes floating in the air by Dandy’s overglow.

Dandy walks out of the hallway, the two pistols she’d not even fired floating in front of her as she smiles at him. She saunters towards him as she tilts the pistols back, and blows across the end of the barrels, dispersing imaginary smoke, before she says softly, “I told ya, I’m not some dainty tender hoof.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head stares at her as he rubs his chin slowly. Okay… yeah… that, that was pretty kool. Remember to keep an eye out for whatever the hell those things are from now on… Cheaty horn head magic.

Gearing grabs the box that had been pressed into the brown buck’s head from the air, and carefully looks it over. He gives it a sniff, and smells the familiar scent of gun oil and recently fired ballistic ammunition. He looks over at her and holds it up as he asks, “The hell’s this?”

She trots over to him as she levitates all of the ones she’d used, plus several more she’d scattered around, and starts putting them away in various pockets. “Custom made single shot derringers…” She holds one up as she grins. “That’s why they call me Derringer Dandy.”

Gearing looks over the one he’d held onto as he asks, “Wouldn’t it be better to have a couple revolvers? Single shots are okay but not when you’re going up against groups.”

Dandy swishes her tail and gives him a rather smug smirk as she waves a hoof around them and asks, “You mean like eight rock heads?”

Gearing slowly looks around and can’t help but agree that she has a very valid point. “Um… yeah… I see... but... still... why… whatever these are?”

She takes the one he has away from him and puts it in a pocket as she says, “They’re cheap enough to make and easily enough to construct that I can put them together on my own. So if I have to drop them in the middle of a firefight I don’t have to really worry about coming back to find it later.” She shrugs. “Plus the design is so simple, and they weigh so little, I can handle far more of them simultaneously than I would be able to with normal firearms.”

Gearing looks around at the ground as he says, “Yeah. That’s a point I hadn’t considered.” He shrugs. “Magic’s always been my weakest subject.” He chuckles as he says, “Not like I have a horn to practice with, ya know.”

She leans down next to him as she asks, “Alright, enough of avoiding the conversation… How bad are ya?” She shakes her head. “You said you were tough, but even so I didn’t expect you to still be alive, let alone conscious, after that.”

Gearing looks at her and smirks as he says, “The no bullshit assessment is I could use a healing potion. But I’ll live, even without it.” He holds up the front right side of his improvised cloak as he frowns, “Bastards put some holes in this thing too…” He lets the cloak slide over and starts looking over his foreleg where a couple plates are dented and bent, and a cog near his fetlock looks like it’s nearly knocked off its central pen.

She starts rummaging through the ambushers’ belongings as she says, “Well, let’s see what they have… I’m sure they brought something if they were intending on starting a fight with a buck that could smash a pony’s skull with one hoof.” She rummages through one of the bags of the stallions that’d come in through the right door and says with a cheer, “Bingo!”

She spins around and holds the slightly faded potion to Gearing. “Here. Drink it up before it goes bad.”

Gearing grabs it and does as instructed, not even taking the time to question the statement in its entirety. He starts rubbing on his chest and, after a few moments, the lead and debris from the direct hits start falling to the ground as he helps work it out of his gears and plates under the cloak. After a few more moments the cog that had been barely holding on slides back into place on his leg as the pen that holds it there regrows out of the sheared off shaft. He works his foreleg, forcing the movements to take place despite the resistance until the various pieces of lead, steel, and copper bullet fragments fall through the gaps and his movement is no longer impeded.

While he’s doing that, Dandy looks around and stays busy herself. She reloads each one of her little toys, and stows each one into its individual holster along the inside lining of her jacket. She even takes care to store the brass that the single bullet weapons use. Afterwards, she makes Gearing’s tendency of salvaging proud as she takes everything from each corpse in the room that she’d shot. She pulls out some of the ammo, keeping the rounds relevant to herself and giving most of the rifle calibers to Gearing, before she starts stuffing everything into a large bag that one of the bucks had been carrying. Then she starts cramming the bag in a hidey hole under a partially collapsed stairwell.

As Gearing stares at her with a smile across his muzzle, she looks back at him and pauses for a moment as she has both of her forehooves on the bag and putting most of her weight into it. She starts flushing as she yells, “Hey, they tried to kill us! Their shit’s ours now!”

Gearing chuckles and waves it away as he says, “Hey, don’t look at me, I’m not going to disagree with you…”

She looks him over then lets out a slight pout as she says, “Oh… okay…” She turns her attention back to the items as she says, “Some ponies just wanna give you shit for it, calling you graverobbers or whatever.”

Gearing shrugs and says with a grin, “Looks more like spoils of war to me.”

She looks over at him and frowns as she asks, “Don’t you think this place has seen enough war already?”

Gearing tilts his head and shrugs as he says, “This place saw enough war over two hundred year ago, even before the bombs dropped… Shit ain’t stopped.”

She chuckles as she shakes her head. “Touché Mr. Philosophical… Touché.”

As she starts walking away Gearing points over to a debris pile and says, “Don’t forget to cover it in some trash, or some other scavenger is more likely to find it before we get back.”

She giggles and glances over her shoulder as her horn glows. A moment later she’s dumped the contents of a trash can over the general area where the bag has been stuffed, covering it in loose papers, dirt, and small bits of rock, before she tosses the can into an adjacent room and trots over to join Gearing.

As she’s walking up to him she asks sweetly, “Okay… next question…” She rears up and starts bopping him on the head with both forehooves as she yells, “Why the hell would you be so stupid to try and tell me to ‘run and save yourself’ when we just met?! Why the hell would you do that?! Who does that?! What the hell is wrong with you?! Why’d you just give up like that?!”

Gearing crouches down as he’s getting barraged with hooves and grumbles, “I wasn’t tryn’-” *Clang* “Hey, that was my ear!” *Clang Clang* “If you’d give me a damn minute! It wasn’t just about you!” *Clang* “Dammit listen to me!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you trying to sacrifice yourself like that!? I can take care of myself! The hell’s wrong with your head?!” she bellows out as she continues to rain down one ineffective hoof blow after another.

He finally catches her forehoof, grabs her foreleg, and twists to pull her forward and make her lose balance. She lands next to him and he tumbles with her as he rolls over onto her. But he makes sure that, even though he’s pinning her to the ground, he’s supporting the vast majority of his weight around her and not actually on her.

“Oof! Hey, what the hell, I just saved you!” she objects then eeps out, “Watch the leg…”

Gearing stays in the same position as he looks at her face to face. “I wanted you out of the way so you didn’t get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself… you don’t have to worry about me…” she replies lamely. She squirms a bit as she says, “Watch the leg…”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he gets closer to her as he demands her attention. “If the room was going to get filled with lead, you were eventually going to get hit. I can take a few more hits than most, as you saw. I just needed you out of the crossfire.”

“W-w- watch the leg,” she mumbles before she says, “I’m not useless, you know…” Followed by a slight groan.

Gearing shakes his head and leans in as he pulls back the cowl and smiles at her. “I didn’t say you were useless… Once you were in the hallway, and had room to maneuver, instead of just sitting in the middle of that kill zone? Sure. Fight to your heart’s content. But I needed room to move and not worry about you getting hit in the crossfire.” He leans in a bit more and asks softly as she has her eyes clamped shut and biting her lip. “You okay? You’re turning pretty red.”

“Y-your leg,” she groans. “Your leg!” She gasps, then clamps her hindlegs together, hard, entrapping one on Gearing’s in her fleshy vice.

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he snorts in surprise, “Oh, shit!” He starts lifting himself up, pulling away from her, but her hind end lifts a bit as she has such a hard grip on his leg with hers. “Shit, sorry! Are you okay!?”

She slacks her grip, and slips away as she lets out a groan. Then she flushes hard as she turns bright red and starts hitting him on the top of the head with her hooves as she yells, “How many times do I gotta say ‘watch your leg’?! How dense are you?! How could you not tell where you were rubbing!? And pressing… And pushing…. And….” She turns even brighter red as she starts hitting him harder. “Why the hell would you do that?!”

Gearing shies away as he holds up his forelegs and groans. “I’m sorry, it was an accident!”

She bonks him on the head one more time, then shakes her hoof as she says, “I believe you’re that dense with how hard headed you are, that’s for sure!” She snorts and closes her eyes as she looks off to the side and says, “I can’t believe you’d do that to me after everything I’ve done for you.”

He gives her a sheepish smile as he says, “Sorry, I really wasn’t trying anything. Honest.”

She looks him over, and the answer just seems to piss her off more as she shakes her hoof at him. “Uh huh… well… Try that shit again and I’m gonna shoot you!”

After getting past the awkwardness and taking their leave of the fresh corpses, they continue out the front door of the warehouse’s office and back outside. Dandy takes over leading the way again as they walk along in silence for a few more blocks. After the color returns to normal along Dandy’s cheeks, Gearing asks, “Do you have any other information about Cookie? What I got was pretty sparse.”

Dandy looks over at him, and then rocks her head side to side as she goes back to watching the path they are taking. “Well, I’ve heard a few other things too. Some of it’s pretty much on par for the other shit he’s been doing. But, of it all, there’s probably one bit of…” She grimaces as she says, “Peculiar behavior?”

Gearing trots up next to her to look at her face and sees that she has a rather twisted look on her muzzle as she’s trying to wrap her head around trying to say what’s trying to work its way out of her muzzle.

Eventually she does manage to get the wording right and says, “Apparently he’s got a lover… of sorts…. Sorta…” She catches eye contact with Gearing and scrunches her muzzle to the side as she says, “It’s complicated… I think… though maybe not.” She shrugs.

Gearing looks at her and tilts his head as he asks, “How could it be complicated? And what’s with a ‘lover’? I mean, he’s a serial rapist, so that doesn’t normally go along with having a ‘lover’. Kinda seems mutually exclusive and weird.”

She lets out a sigh and hangs her head as she says, “Oh, you have no idea…” She takes in a deep breath then lifts her head and looks at Gearing with a plastered on fake grin across her muzzle as she says, “His lover’s name is apparently Queenie. And he apparently loves her more than anything in the whole wide world. And, apparently, people can hear their sexcapades from a block away. Apparently when he’s not out raping the general populace and inanimate objects, he’s cooking. And if he’s not doing that, he’s doing Queenie.”

Gearing smirks and starts wondering how many people would try to compare his and Sable’s escapades as such… but instead of rape and killing taking up most of his time, it’s repair and killing, with sex filling in as many gaps as Sable can get away with. But at least the ones he kills deserve it, right? That’s a difference.

The comparison starts disturbing both him and the little blue pegasus in his head. So he stops the mental train of thought.

“So, he’s a sex maniac… That’s nothing new, what else is there that makes this complicated?” Gearing asks as he trots along beside her.

That grin just gets even more plastered on and fake as she says, “Well, the thing is… Queenie?” She scrunches her muzzle to the side as she says softly, “Is a brahmin.”

Gearing missteps a few times as his brain nearly throws a cog at the sudden tom-fuckery. “Wait, what?! His ‘lover’ is a brahmin?!”

Dandy nods as she continues scrunching her mouth over to the side. “Weird, I know, right?” She looks forward as she continues, “And, here’s the weird thing… weirder even… apparently it’s consensual…” She looks at Gearing and nods. “Because she’s got her own area at his place. And nopony’s allowed to touch her…” She looks forward as her eyes go wide as she thinks about it. “Apparently one time someone was trying to clean up the area, one of his own people at that, and they tapped Queenie with a hoof to move to the side so they could get under her, and Cookie went ballistic! He cut off the hoof she used to touch Queenie, made her eat her own hoof, and then proceeded to rape every orifice on her body before throwing her out half-burnt for the wildlife to finish off.”

Gearing shakes his head as he says, “He’s even that fucked up to his own crew? Why the hell would anyone stay around that psychopath?!”

Dandy shrugs as she says, “Apparently he’s a really good cook, if you believe the rumors… and he’s got a shit load of chems… And as long as he doesn’t have an itch in his crotch he’s actually tolerable. Supposedly. But if he hasn’t tapped his kiwi’s in a while he goes even more sex crazy than normal.”

Gearing shakes his head as he has a hard time trying to figure someone like that out. Even with his vast personal experience with the general subject matter, he’s not qualified to try and diagnose this particular brand of crazy.

Dandy looks over at him as she asks, “So, what kinda plan you got for taking him out? Any ideas? You’ve gotta if you came looking for me just to find out where he is.”

Gearing looks around as he says, “Well, once I know who and where he is… just a matter of putting a bullet in his head… or dropping a bomb in a room with him… Hell, if he likes flamers so much, throwing in some explosives with short fuses on them would probably be just as effective as he’d end up lighting them up himself.”

Dandy frowns as she says, “No explosives, please. In order to get the full bounty, we need to bring back something intact enough that he can be identified properly. If we don’t we’re only going to get a fraction of the bounty. Might not even get half of it, depending on the situation.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Well. Let’s just wait until we get there, see what’s actually going on around it, and then go about taking care of it after we figure out what we can do versus what we want to do.”

Dandy nods as she turns and begins trotting along faster. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s get going. Those assholes made us lose some time, and I’d love to get back in time tonight to claim the bounty and get a nice night’s sleep on a cot.”

They continue weaving through paths and the crumbled down remnants of long forgotten buildings for a few hours without running into any other trouble. But, when she starts getting close to where she’s pretty sure they are only a few blocks away, they start traveling through buildings wherever possible to avoid being caught out in the open.

Again.

And this time the strategy works. Every so often Gearing kicks on his EFS just to look around and make sure they aren’t about to walk into another ambush. And, in doing so, they’re able to skirt around a few random red blips here and there. Maybe they are radroaches. Maybe they are raiders. Maybe they are angry bounty hunters looking for revenge. Or maybe they’re just an alicorn looking for the next pony to ream with their horn. Gearing doesn’t know. Gearing doesn’t care. As long as they aren’t in their path, and they can get away from them, he’s not going to go off and investigate, looking for trouble, when he’s already on a pretty important task.

They get to a building that looks like it’s been built to resemble an old-timey cowpoke tavern. Complete with a piano, now over on its side and smashed to pieces by something or someone giving it a very bad day, and a second floor balcony. They walk around, with Dandy leading the way and Gearing right behind. As she’s walking up the stairs, they creak and groan, and she gingerly continues up the stairs the rest of the way as Gearing watches from the first floor.

Gearing steps up with a forehoof, and slowly starts applying pressure to the second step. But, as soon as he puts any real weight on it, not even enough to start lifting himself up with, the plank snaps and his hoof goes right through it.

Dandy’s eyes go wide and she looks down at the planks under her own hooves as she says sheepishly, “Um… maybe you shouldn’t follow me… I’m a bit smaller anyway and I don’t think this place could handle two.”

Gearing shakes his head and steps back as he says, “Even if it could, it couldn’t handle my lard ass.” He waves her up the stairs as he says, “Go take a peek, I’ll be here.”

She quickly heads upstairs, and he can follow her movements by the squeaking and groaning of the wood that makes up both the second story’s floor and the ground floor’s ceiling. After a few moments of looking around she gingerly comes back, hopping over the broken stair and landing straight onto the floor as she says, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s over there. You can almost smell the burning shit already.” She walks over to the back door of the tavern as she peeks out into the alleyway beyond and adds, “Looks like he’s taken over that plaza near those old office buildings… Turned the center where the fountain used to be into a damn barbeque pit or something.”

Gearing follows her out and around the corner as he asks, “So, we just going to go in and you toss your little toys around until they spring their trap for you to shoot them in the head point blank again?”

She looks back at him and grins as she says, “I prefer to do that when I’m behind cover… not looking down a flamer… He’s more likely to burn the tail hair off my ass, before even getting close enough for that to work.”

They start swinging around this way and that, as they snake their way towards the office complex plaza. It doesn’t take long, even with the ultra damp weather, before the smell of burnt everything starts greeting their noses. Plastic. Wood. Rubber. Flesh. Hair. It all greets them in a wave so clear they could almost see in the air.

Check that: after a bit of further travel they can actually see it in the air as various smokes rise up around the plaza. A few of them emanating from wire mesh trash cans. Others from in the engine compartments of industrial equipment. Still others are just sitting out on the ground, fancy free, in a way that would make any fire marshal have a stroke.

Gearing walks around next to Dandy as she’s stopped a block away from the plaza to take in the view from the relative safety of a boarded up window. “So… do any of the others have any bounties on them as well?”

She shrugs. “I don’t really know. They might. But there’s no way to tell for sure without getting the identification and checking. Why?” She looks over at him and smirks as she asks, “You planning on taking out more than just him?”

Gearing looks around the building they’ve found themselves in as he says, “Well, considering the fucked up shit he does, the others can’t be much better.” He looks at her as he nods towards the window and adds, “If they’re okay enough with it to stick around him, they’re not okay enough to be left hanging around after he’s gone.”

She looks around as she bobs her head. “Fair… I mean. I’m more interested in the bounty… but the others might be worth a bit too.” She grins as she puts a hoof to her muzzle. “Oouuuu I wonder if there’s a bonus for taking down the whole gang!” Her eyes practically sparkle at the thought. “There just might be!”

Gearing looks at her and grins as he says, “I think we know a way to find that out.”

She leans towards him and practically purrs as she says, “I love the way you think,” as she partially closes her eyes.

He smirks and asks, “So, how are we going to split this up?”

Dandy scrunches her mouth up to one side as she goes back to peeking through the slit next to the covered up window. “Well… Divide and conquer might be a valid tactic… Or, we could try and lure them away to pick them off a few at a time…” She looks over at him and frowns as she says, “Don’t just demo the whole damn area, in case you were thinking about it.”

Gearing waves her away with a hoof as he says, “Nah, would be a waste of explosives… They’d probably burn before they’d detonate anyway…” He scratches his chin a bit before he looks her over. “How many of those little pea shooters you have on you?”

Dandy bobs her head around a bit before she says, “Fifty… ten clusters of five each… Plus the ammo in my pockets… why?”

Gearing’s eyes bug out as he asks, “Fifty?!” He starts looking her over as he tries to figure out exactly where she’s hiding all of them, and can’t help but smirking as he realizes he’s had a few similar tricks revealed recently.

Well, that’d explain all the gun oil smell. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he keeps looking Dandy over.

She reaches over and pops Gearing on the head as she flushes and says, “Get your mind out of the gutter… They’re just in holsters I have sewn into the inside of my jacket.”

Gearing chuckles as he looks around. “Right… right… So…” He coughs into his hoof before he says, “How about we do a little of both.” He points over to the plaza as he says, “We sneak over, find a good place to hole up, and I run around real quick and get a head count, then meet back up with you and we go after them one group at a time?”

She narrows her eyes as she bops him on the head a couple more times. “I keep telling you I’m not helpless… My eyes are just as good as yours.”

Gearing looks at her and holds up his PipBuck as he asks, “Yeah, but do you have an EFS that lets you count them from a distance, and through walls?”

She opens her mouth to say something in retort, with her hoof still up in the air. Dandy goes a bit slack as she stares off into space and thinks it over. A moment later she bops herself on the head gently as she giggles. “Nah… you’re right… my bad.” And then she playfully sticks her tongue out at him with one of her eyes closed.

Gearing nods and kicks on his EFS, immediately he’s already seeing red indicators in a variety of directions. He motions her to follow with a hoof, and leads the way out of the building and down the last block between them and their target.

They sneak into a destroyed bakery on the corner across the street from the plaza, with the glass fronts that made up the two sides facing the intersection completely smashed, and start looking around the plaza area.

Gearing looks over at her and asks quietly, “Hey uh… is there a reason there doesn’t seem to be much hoof traffic in the middle of the day? This is their base, isn’t it?”

She shrugs as she says, “They might be more of night owls… But even that’s a bit off for this. They should be up and about now. Or somepony should at least… Guards? Scouts? Lookouts?” She looks at him and says softly, “Unless the dumbasses are just lounging around inside because they have nothing better to do?”

Gearing frowns as he looks around. “Don’t think they’re out hitting another caravan or whatever, do you?”

She shrugs, and then lets out a long moan. “I certainly hope not! I don’t want to wait for them to get back for us to take them out. That could take all day!”

Gearing nods as he starts slipping out a side door. “Wait here, I’ll go do a quick head count… Try not to draw too much attention to yourself… but remember… if you do…”

Dandy frowns hard and rolls her eyes. “I know… I know… Let me guess… Run away and wait to regroup with you before coming back?”

Gearing looks at her and tilts his head. “Uh… No… If you get discovered, make a hell of a lot of racket, and take down as many as you can, as quickly as you can. But stay safe and keep moving… That way you’ll pull more away from the base and maybe we can catch them in a pincer maneuver.”

Dandy’s eyes jump to their widest as she grins. “Ohhh I like that idea!” She pulls out a couple of her pistol boxes and starts tossing them around on the floor under the old rusting displays as she quickly counts out and places five of them. After she’s placed the fifth one she looks at Gearing and shrugs as she says, “Just in case.”

Gearing nods and slips out as quietly as he can.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 62%

Gravity Differential alignment at 75%

Gravity Differential alignment at 87%

53 Recipe For Disaster

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hammer and Cross are in the maintenance wing for the transportation vehicles as Hammer sits on her haunches with her forelegs crossed over her chest and a grumpy expression across her face. Snake and Mouse, in their combat biohazard suits, stand off to the side playing a game of checkers on an ammo crate as Cross keeps telling Hammer ‘no’.

“Why though? What’s the big deal? It’s not like it’s not allowed; we’re not in the same chain of command. And never will be. I’m maintenance and repair, and he’s not,” Hammer grumps.

Cross frowns as she says, “Because you trying to shellac him could quite literally throw off everything else. He’s got enough to worry about, besides satisfying your libido!”

Hammer throws her forehooves around as she says, “Oh like that would be a problem with him! It’s like nature forgot to install the brakes on that buck!” She shrugs as she says, “He’s cute, smart, and the strongest fucking buck I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Cross opens her mouth to say something, but Hammer cuts her off loudly, “And! He’s like the only available flyer I ever run into. I mean, come on, I’m stuck down here more than any of you and a mare’s got needs dammit!”

Cross opens her mouth again and, again, Hammer cuts her off, “And Mouse doesn’t count! He prefers to trawl the bars up top looking like a mare and getting ploughed that way.”

One of the ponies in the biohazard suits starts laughing and nodding while the other one turns into a tan mare with a platinum blonde mane and an exceptionally wide hip ratio. She gives her flanks a slow swish one way, than the other, before she says in a soft sweet voice, “Hey, don’t get jealous. It’s not hard to get a train going when you can be exactly what each and every one of them wants in a mare.” They shake their rear a bit more and giggle as they say, “And when you got a caboose like this.”

Hammer throws a hoof at the changeling as she says, “How the hell am I supposed to compete with that! I mean, damn, even I want to do her! And I’m straight!” She looks off to the side as she puts a hoof to her chin. “I think? Maybe? Damn these hormones!”

The tan mare looks back and forth before she puts a hoof to her muzzle and asks, “Well, what about Skip? If you’re into fliers I mean?”

Hammer looks off to the side and puts a hoof to her chest as she says, “I have standards: I’m not a homewrecker, and I’m not into poaching buck, especially from friends.”

The tan mare looks at the remaining pony in the biohazard suit and raises an eyebrow as they say, “I thought he was single?”

The other biohazard suit wearing pony turns into a griffin before she turns her head to face the side and puts a claw to her chest. “Don’t look at me like that; I’m not the one hopping on that particular pony pogo stick.”

A rattle noise crops up and, out from behind the big pile of weapons crates nearby, one box raises up in the air behind all of the others, then starts moving around apparently of its own volition. After it gets away from the stack, it rises higher in the air and gets set on top of the rest of them.

And a moment later Gearing, in his custom flight suit and nothing else, walks around the side of the depot pile as he twitches his ears and looks around. “Alright, alright. I’m coming, Skip. Geez. You tell me to hide as part of an exercise then you never come and find me…” He looks over at the group around Cross as he’s passing them and says, “Hey, if you need help working on whatever train that is, I’d love to learn about their inner workings. The different types seem neat!”

They all stare at him with their mouth agape as he walks towards the door back to the main central area.

Hammer, flushing furiously, has her forehooves almost in her mouth as she practically squeals, “There’s no way something so innocent and wholesome exists in the world!”

“And. I. Want. To. Keep. It. That. Way!” Cross says as she punctuates each individual word with a swat from her phantasmal folded paper fan spell on top of Hammer’s head. But it does nothing to break Hammer’s focus from staring at Gearing as he’s walking away.

The griffin looks at the tan mare next to her and nods towards Hammer as she says while shaking her head, “Ohhh she’s got it bad!” The tan mare reverts to their standard biohazard suit wearing pony look, with the considerably more humble buttocks, and nods sympathetically.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It takes Gearing nearly half an hour to run his spiral route around the plaza and surrounding office complexes. It’s not hard to avoid somepony when they aren’t expecting you and you can see them before they can even sense you. One of the biggest concerns he had with all of this was the possibility of there being prisoners. The buck is a lunatic with a habit of raping his captives. So there is that possibility.

However, his various snaking routes around the buildings, and the open plaza area, indicate to him that there are no such innocent parties in this area. The closest thing that came to it is the brahmin pens that are attached to the mostly intact office building. Apparently the office building had a covered party area, where the building itself acted like a gazebo roof, and had many tables and such built into the concrete. Now that area has been enclosed with various sheets of wood and metal, with random bits of barb and razor wire around it for good measure. But, sure enough, in one of those back areas is a pen for the brahmin. Kept safe from the rest of the wasteland by the poorly put together walls and a herd of insane bandits. Though he can’t tell which one of the brahmin is the fabled ‘Queenie’ that he’d been informed of. He has a guess that it’s probably the one in its own pen. Next to a delivery wagon that’s been converted into living quarters. That brahmin has the least number of marks on it and their fur actually looks well taken care of. Like the bovine has actually seen a bath, and knows of such things as soap.

Unlike many ponies he’s run into recently.

After getting a quick head count he sneaks back around and returns to Dandy. This time, realizing the seriousness of the situation, he does the courteous thing and announces himself gently with a couple knocks on a discarded tin can as he whispers, “Hey, Dandy.”

But, intentional or not, he startles her anyway, and ends up with three different magically floating pistols pointed at his head simultaneously.

He looks at her as he frowns and asks, “So, mind if we go take care of these bandits, or would your trigger happy ass like to warm up by putting a few rounds in my ass first?”

She chuckles and pulls the pistols away as she says softly, “Oh you teaaaase.” She looks out across the plaza as she asks, “Well?”

He breaks down the general layout of the place, and how the outer plaza actually has two stories, where parties and such were held going from raised platform to raised platform. And how it leads up to the front of the main building, where there’s a large staircase that leads up to the second floor. They talk a bit more, and decide to try and take out the others that are scattered in the adjoining buildings first. The more they take out that way, away from everyone else, the less they’ll have to worry about when the bigger fight comes. And they both know there will be a big fight before this is all said and done.

The smaller they can make the bigger fight, the better.

They head out and immediately sneak into the office building on the far right. This one has the least number of red bars, and it’s not hard to see why from the inside. The entire place is like a dump. A multistory dump. And not the kind where scavengers could crawl through to find hidden gems to be traded. No, this was garbage through and through. And a lot of it, far more than it should sanely be, is rotting carcasses that have been mostly burnt. Then there are other forms of trash and things that aren’t even identifiable as they have practically liquefied into some syrupy mess of waterlogged origin. But, as they are sneaking through the few occupied levels of the building, they find out that not all of the red dots are real threats. Quite a few of them are simply radroaches who are dining on fine cuisine of the bovine and equine variety. Burnt to a crisp, raw, or cooked to perfection. Makes no matter. It’s all equally edible to a radroach.

Gearing is more than happy to remove a few of the scurrying little monsters from his EFS with a heavy hoof and a smile. Each one makes a delightful popping sound, along with a high pitched squeal or squeak. Though the more of them he runs into, the more he wonders how he had such a problem with them back in Stable 68. Granted he hasn’t had a swarm of them all over him biting at every bit of exposed hide they could find, but still.

And, just like that, they quickly lower on his threat level chart for the current task at hoof.

They quickly zip through the building, going floor by floor, through the refuse, as they make their way up to the top. Each floor is much like the one below it. Full of garbage and waste. The smell is oppressive and only getting worse the deeper in they go. Even with his own dulled senses, in terms of reaction to smells in general, he can practically feel the miasma of disgust marinating them through the very air. He’s not even really sure how Dandy can breathe in this, and debates on having her to go ahead and go back outside. But when he turns to make the suggestion to her is when he notices the mask she has pulled up and over her muzzle.

A decorative kerchief of some kind. But much larger than normal and tied around her head to hold it in place as they walk around. Even so, her eyes are showing visible signs of watering. Probably from the filth in the very air stinging them.

“Certainly that can’t be enough to hold this stink off for you?” Gearing asks as he points a hoof at the cloth on her face.

Dandy looks at him and tilts her head for a moment before she says, “My bandana?” She chuckles lightly before she whispers back, “Of course not! I just put an air freshener spell on it. Works well enough for crap like this.”

Gearing bobs his head around as he carries on. “That sounds like it’d be pretty useful. Sorry I didn’t ask before. This place is rank.”

She nods and follows along before she asks, “Oh, shit, I didn’t think to ask you, considering what you are, but do you need it too?” She looks him over as she says in an unsure tone, “You don’t really seem to be reacting to it so I figured not?”

Gearing stops walking then slowly turns his head to look at her. He pulls back the cowl completely again as he asks, “What do you mean ‘considering what you are’?”

I swear if she says ‘protectapony’ that’s gonna put a damper on a budding friendship, the little blue pegasus in his head grumps.

Dandy side steps and waves a hoof defensively. “I didn’t mean anything rude by it… but… you’re like... a cyberpony, right?” She points at her own face and he can see her sheepish smile in her eyes as she says softly, “It’s kind of hard… to not notice. Strength aside.”

Gearing scowls and opens his mouth to say something snarky, but stops when his mind space crashes as the little blue pegasus zips out of its steam chest and bucks him upside the head. Hey! She’s not wrong, you know! Technically, she’s right… or did somepony forget about their implants?

That’s not what she means… he mentally replies to: himself.

She’s not being mean about it, his mind-space pegasus retorts.

“I mean, you’ve got a bit too much umm…” She looks him over before she grins and says, “Personality… to just be some protectapony…”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks her over.

Okay, she technically used the word, but said you’re not… that’s gotta count for something! Give a mare a chance! the little blue pegasus quips as he sits back and patiently waits for Dandy to work through verbalizing her thought process.

She steps a bit closer to Gearing as she whispers, “If you don’t wanna talk about it, I’ll understand…”

Gearing shakes his head lightly and says, “It’s fine… You’re asking about my enhancement upgrades?”

She nods slowly, cautiously, obviously not wanting to offend but painfully curious about it nonetheless.

“I got the implants during the war-” Gearing starts but gets interrupted.

“‘The war’? Which war?” Dandy blurts out. “You mean the War?” Her eyes go wide as she rambles with her mouth hanging open. “The megaspell-detonating bale-fire-bomb-dropping scorched-earth-leaving War?!”

Gearing looks at her and lets out a slight snort of amusement as he says, “Yeah… That war… it’s the only real war I know of.”

She looks around quickly as she says, more to herself than anything, “Holy crap that means you were around before…” Her voice trails off as her mind races through that line of logic. She looks him over. “I guess it’s the cyberpony bit that’s let you live so long. That’s amazing!” She trots over and smiles as she asks excitedly, “What was it like?!”

Gearing narrows his eyes and folds back his ears as he asks, “What? The war?”

She scrunches up her muzzle to one side before shaking her head. “No. Fuck the war. I don’t care about that. Just look around us and it’s pretty easy to see what kind of a mess that was…” She leans in closer as she grins at him face to face with such enthusiasm it’s plainly evident even with the kerchief covering her muzzle. “No, Equestria! What was it like?” She waves a hoof back towards the windows while still looking at him. “Before somepony got the bright idea of blasting it all into an irradiated mess, I mean.”

Gearing slowly looks her over as he gets a wide, yet crooked, smile growing across his muzzle. He leans over and pats her on the shoulder as he says, “Know what… I think I like you.”

Her cheeks start glowing pinkish as she stammers, “H-hey! Don’t get fresh! This is no place for that!”

Gearing smirks and looks around as he says, “Tell ya what, after this, we’ll talk it over and I’ll answer as much as I can.” He looks at her sideways. “Sound fair enough?”

“Sure!” She trots on ahead as she looks back at him, grinning at the possibilities.

The first actual pony, living anyways, that they run into in here is a buck that seems to be trying to hide among the corpses. Each of his legs have been scorched, but, as he charges at them with a squeal and madness in his eyes, it’s quite clear that they are still functional. What’s also clear is the amount of Med-X he must have doped himself up with to not care that one of his cutie marks seems to have been burnt off with a hot frying pan.

As Dandy is jumping back and away from the charging buck, who’s having to scramble over a pile of rotting corpses, she throws a couple of her little boxes in the air as she pulls out her pistols. The little boxes float in mid air, then get caught in her magical glow before they fly at full speed towards the buck from various angles. She puts a round through each of the front knees with her pistols, causing him to fall onto his face on the next stride as they get blown out, but he’s still coming at her. She hops and springs to the side as he slides by her, and, before she’s even landed on all four hooves, she’s fired two more times with a pair of single shot boxes, both into the back of his head.

The final shots stop the manic hooting and hollering, and make his hind legs collapse as well, as the momentum carries him the rest of the way to settle in and become just a newer, fresher, corpse among the others.

Gearing walks over to her as she’s reloading and storing her pistols and single shots again as he says quietly, “We’re gonna need to be careful. I’m not sure if he was intending on ambushing us, or if that was just dumb luck.”

She nods agreement and they continue going through the building they have dubbed Hoofington’s Dump. Which, considering the state of the rest of Hoofington, is actually saying something. Given Gearing atypically keeps his EFS active the entire time, they don’t really run into any more surprises. Except for the regular ‘surprise’ of expecting to find a pony waiting in ambush, only to find the red chevron is just a radroach doing its part to clean up the mess one bite at a time. A couple of which seem to be so full they appear to be in a food coma and don’t so much as move when the pair invade their territory.

Despite their expectations, they only found a trio of ponies in the dump building. Each one isolated and away from the others and appearing to be hiding from everyone and everything. Maybe it was a form of punishment, or they were trying to avoid punishment for something they’d done or failed to do. Gearing’s not sure and if Dandy has any ideas she’s kept them to herself.

Or, maybe, they’re in here hiding because it’s their turn for the flamer enema and they are trying to avoid it as long as possible? the little blue pegasus in his head chimes in with disgust.

Even Gearing quickly clinches his rear at the thought of it. If this Cookie is willing to do this to his own people, imagine what he’d be willing to do to others ‘not on board’ with the plan.

He can’t help but having a quick mental image of a fat yellow filly pop through his mind, rolling like a bulbous fleshy tumbleweed through his think space, as he wonders if Charity is similar. The kids looked healthy enough, but maybe that’s just a ruse. Or maybe they hadn’t been in her clutches long enough to suffer enough abuse for it to be visible. Or maybe she was an expert at doing it covertly. Either way, she’s still on his ‘to do’ list as soon as he gets the chance. But he’s got a few obligations to get out of the way first before he goes hunting down loan sharks. He wants to make sure that Stable 68 will get what it needs before he starts causing an even bigger ruckus. Because if he’s already having ponies try and take him out for eliminating one or two scumbags, he knows he’s going to be on the defensive and stuck on the move if it’s discovered he’s the one that took down or screwed over one of the big players in Equestria.

Hell, Security’s bounty got doubled by Usury just because Security said she’d wreck slavers. Imagine what she’d be willing to do if she found out what you got planned for her ass? the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments. Then he rubs his chin as he smirks. New largest bounty ever… Wonder if we could break seven digits.

After clearing the building of anypony else, they peek out of the windows on the upper floors as they try to figure out the best way to go about attacking the main building at the head of the open plaza.

“Any ideas?” Dandy asks as she trails her eyes over the multi level building catty corner to this one. The thought of the number of ambushes possible in it isn’t a pleasant one, especially when one of the ones that might be doing the ambushing is Cookie. Literal flaming surprise butt sex is not on the agenda today. Not if they can help it anyway.

Gearing lets his own eyes trail around the building, then to the sky walk that used to function as a reception area for the companies back when the ‘barbeque pit’ in the center was an actual functioning fountain. “Well… if we cause enough of a ruckus, we could get them to come out to us…” He looks over at her and grins as he says, “A bit of poking the ol’ hornet’s nest as it were…”

She leans over and bumps his shoulder with hers as she says, “Oh, I’m liking you more and more already…” She looks back out the window as she asks, “So, who’s going to be doing the poking?”

“Not Cookie if I have anything to say about it,” Gearing quips.

Both of their rears clinch in response, along with Dandy’s legs clamping together so quickly they make an audible smack before she shivers. She flushes as she looks around and mutters, “Uh… yeah… there’s that…”

Gearing looks over at her as he nods towards the window. “I’ll go make the ruckus, and draw them out.”

She looks at him and scowls as she says, “You’re not trying that self-sacrificing shit on me again, are you? I keep telling you I can take care of myself!”

Gearing leans in and grins as he says, “Yeah… I know… otherwise I’d make you tag along with me so I could keep an eye on you.” He reaches up and taps on her brow with the back of a hoof as he says, “I need you with all of your guns picking them off as they come after me. You don’t need to be holding your weapons to shoot them, I do. And, little miss ‘I can handle myself’ I’m going to expect you to be doing your fair share in this. Got it?!”

She looks up at him and grins as she says sweetly, “Well… where do you want me?”

“Over that table,” Gearing replies as he points through the window.

Dandy flushes down to her shoulders as she whips out a pistol and puts it to his head. “Hey! What’d I say about getting fresh, this ain’t the time for that! I’ll shoot your ass if you try and screw mine!”

Gearing narrows his eyes and points out the window with a hoof again as he says flatly, but with a slightly annoyed tone to it, “I’m not talking about sexing you up… I wanted to you take position over by that concrete table… There’s a dumpster on top of that ruble next to it. From there you’d have a pretty good line of sight around the plaza; just scatter your guns around like you did before and let ‘em have it.”

She flushes more as she pulls the pistol back and leans over to look out the window. She turns a delightful shade of red as she quickly looks around. “Oh… yeah… okay… Yeah that makes sense.”

Gearing turns and they start heading back down as he asks, “You want me to toss around a few of those guns while I’m going in to stir up some trouble?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I need to know exactly where they are. It makes it far easier to focus so I can use them. Once I get a hold of them, I can feel them out and know how to orient them the way I want, but I need to know where and how they’re sitting first to be able to reliably do that.”

Gearing sneaks out and leads the way near the plaza. He hides over by a section of collapsed concrete, from one of the sky walk reception areas above partially collapsing down, as Dandy runs around, depositing her little toys here and there, before she, as well, sneaks over and hops into the dumpster indicated earlier. Instantly she springs back up, and looks over at him with a scowl of disgust as she holds up a hoof covered in sticky decaying material. The unhappy mare is unhappy and stares at him with a frown that clearly telegraphs ‘Mistakes were made!’

After she’s in place, Gearing slinks out and starts stalking the perimeter again. But, again, even together they aren’t finding any real opposition. Which puts both of them on edge as he is approaching the larger building that must function as the group’s primary base. Gearing looks around, and hops up onto a few rubble piles, before jumping and flying the short distance up and onto one of the concrete skywalk areas. He walks very carefully, looking at all of the varied debris that is covering the once pristine reception area. Lots of garbage and trash, the vast majority of it looks recent compared to most areas.

Scattered along the various lengths of the reception area are many flower beds that are set up as dual purpose seating areas with extra thick concrete poured towards the sides of the path for those wishing to have a seat among the flowers to do so. Although, most of the actual vegetation that remains is twisted into nearly unidentifiable messes. Whatever had been living in the containers, and probably more identifiable, has long since been eaten. A fact evident by stems chewed to the ground here and there. Though, compared to what he’s sure it looked like pre war during the height of the consumerist times, the current growth is sparse, and that’s putting it mildly.

And that’s not even mentioning the other forms of defilement the once grandiose flower beds have been made to endure. Trash, bones, corpse pieces. All of it scattered among the raised beds like a field of filth in full bloom.

However, it makes for excellent cover as he zips along the raised walkway towards the main door. He finds an area where somepony, somewhat recently, set up a camp out in the open with a ratty tarp strung up with an old bent street sign in a half-assed lean-to. Gearing snuggles into the area, carefully pushing the pieces of trash around as he looks at the building’s front face that is only a couple dozen yards away.

Gearing keeps snooping around the little area he’s in, as he’s trying to keep an eye on the front door, and it slowly dawns on him that this is not simply an abandoned camp. This little beat down improvised sleeping area had been used, and recently. Poking out from under the pile of rags that apparently function as either bedding, sleeping bag, or both, is a small sack. He gently grabs the bag under the filthy sleeping nest and tugs it out. He spares enough attention to it to find a mouth gripped pipe pistol of some kind, one that’s functionality is questionable at best. But it is loaded, and apparently has an extra couple of rounds in the bag with it. The dirty blue cooler, covered in either tar, or dried blood, stowed behind the nest, and tucked next to the tarp, holds a couple other goodies in it. While most would associate a food cooler to have, well, food in it, this one had a food byproduct.

In the form of a pair of hoof made molotovs.

He quickly grabs them and stows them as his original idea for causing a bit of a ruckus quickly morphs into something new. He runs along the length of the skywalk, towards the opening that represents the stairs down, and jumps over it as he glides over to the second story entryway that, according to the burning fire barrels near it, must still be in use. He quickly looks through the glass, trying to get a bead on someone, but nothing catches his eye. So he cracks the door open.

Instantly he finds out why there’s nopony outside.

Apparently everyone’s inside of the main building, having a grand ole time. By the laughing and shouting and the radio playing some machine-like heavy music, it’s not hard to imagine the party that’s going on somewhere within the first few floors of the building. And, by the smell of things burning, he can only cringe as he wonders exactly what is on the menu at the moment.

He props the door open, and carefully looks side to side, following the noise as he progresses in. The second floor mostly has tiled segments over concrete as far as the walk area is concerned. Though many of the tiles have been broken and popped off through either use, abuse, or outright age. When he comes around the corner, and finds the building’s main atrium, the scene below makes him take a step back for a variety of reasons. A railing separates the walkway he’s currently standing on, marking a path on the second floor that transverses the perimeter of the atrium, from the wide openness of the atrium that goes straight to ground level. Over the side of the railing is a clear view of a very busy crowd. And clear views work both ways. So he backs up and thinks about what he’s already seen.

Yes, it’s pretty much as he’d guessed from the noise when he first entered the building. There’s a huge party going on on the first floor, with dozens of ponies shambling about as they yell and scream at each other, but otherwise seem to be enjoying themselves. There’s a long table set up with what must be the only clean surface area in the entire building. As he watches, one pony after another goes over and grabs a few items off of one serving plate or another, and walks away. Notably all of them are being exceedingly careful not to spill anything. With the extreme care and concentration being clearly evident with the expressions on their faces and slow movements. Even from the second floor.

But, the large food spread aside, the buffet’s not really where the strongest smell is coming from

In the center of the atrium is a pair of ponies, splayed out, and bound to a variety of wire and mesh. One vertically, and one horizontally. All while they are turned and twisted over a large fire as if some form of macabre version of wind art. Though, from what he can see at least, the ponies aren’t exactly on the menu. The grotesque scene is simply there to add to the atmosphere.

An atmosphere that Gearing very quickly wants to put an end to.

He looks around from his hiding place, side to side, as he tries to figure out the best way to ruffle their feathers the most and get the real party started. Then his eyes settle on the buffet table, and a mischievous grin slowly crosses his muzzle.

If they’re taking that much care to keep it clean and tidy, I bet messing it up would thoroughly piss them off! The little blue pegasus in his head cackles with glee.

And Gearing agrees. He steps back carefully, and lights the two molotovs he’d recently found in that cooler using one of the burning barrels near the door. He comes back at a run, with a flaming molotov held with each wing, and, as he’s approaching the corner near the railing, a purple mare comes around the corner from the other way holding a plate in one hoof.

Her muzzle is grotesquely full of some kind of chunky casserole, with a good portion of the mostly cream colored meal smearing her mouth and demonstrating her horrendous table manners. She turns her head to the side, seeing the movement out of the corner of her eye, and starts to scream, or tries to as he rapidly approaches her.

In mid gallop, with all four hooves off the ground, Gearing activates SATS.

Time comes to a near standstill as his vision changes. While staring at her he quickly starts taking in the environment. The red bar that indicates her, he’d thought was further away, and on the lower level. But, obviously not. He double checks the rest of the red chevrons across his vision, and compares them to where he was sure they were a moment before. Those, are most definitely further in front of him, which means below or, at the worst of it, on the same level but across the entry atrium on the other side of the building. Which just leaves the mare with a mouthful of casserole in front of him as a hitch to his plans.

With time stopped, and him only a couple strides away, he can see clearly what she’s eating with reckless abandon. Creamy with a variety of vegetables in it. Little cubes of carrots poking out here and there. And peas. Plenty of cheese it seems, and a sauce that can’t really be identified. Although, the little brownish red pieces of meat he hopes beyond hope aren’t equine in origin. But, given everything else he’s encountered recently, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

That looks like some grade ‘A’ chow! The little blue pegasus in his head chimes in as he mentally flutters around the plate. The last time I’d seen anything even close to this was at that uppity restaurant in Manehatten that we got dragged to!

But the mare is an obstacle to what he’s trying to do. Her clothes are ratty, and pockmarked with a few scatterings of burns. And besides being absolutely filthy, her armor is a bit better than most. In that it’s not simply rubber and leather to try and look intimidating, but actually being composed of quite a few pieces of metal. Entirely improvisational, but could definitely stop, or at least slow, a few rounds. Her mane’s been mostly scorched off, and currently looks likes a short crop top. But with coiled curly melted black ends. Adorning her head is a welding mask of some kind. One of the cheap ones that was basically a sheet of steel, formed on a press to roughly fight the shape of a pony face, and had a few pieces of tinted glass where the eyes could peek out at what they were working on.

And, as the spell is about to run out of juice, Gearing makes the decision that this dirty purple mare, regardless of why she’s here at this present moment, is an obstacle that needs to be removed. Her red bar on the edge of his vision just makes the decision that much easier.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm. Confirm.

The spell ends and the world resumes normal speed as SATS takes over.

The purple mare’s violet eyes shrink to pinpricks as she sees the unknown cloaked pegasus with two flaming molotovs barrel right towards her. Her mouth opens and she begins to scream, spraying the coveted casserole out in an explosion of air as she shouts in surprise and fear.

But that doesn’t last long.

The moment Gearing’s forehooves touch down on the ceramic tile of the walkway, he spins around and, with the full assistance of his targeting spell and the weight of his mass, hits her full on in the sides with both hindhooves in a devastating applebuck. A strike made even worse by the fact that his inertia was so great that his forehooves continued to slide and grind across the tiles allowing even more force to be directed into her body.

The armor plating on her sides does little to nothing to even slow the blow as Gearing’s hindhooves both hit her and simply press form the metal around his hooves like it were thin sheets of aluminum foil. Both points of impact dent in considerably, causing her body to cave in around the strikes simultaneously. One of which completely shatters the ribs on the sides of her chest, in a perfect hoof shape, but larger, and continues on inwards. Sending fragments of ribs tearing through her chest cavity like so much shrapnel. The other hoof lands further along her abdomen, and likewise bucks the metal straight into and through her soft tissues.

Despite her body almost being pierced by the strikes, there’s more than enough kinetic energy to send her flying backwards up and over the railing as if she’d been hit by a wrecking ball. And, arguably, she might as well have been as that was a magnitude of force measured in metric tons applied to her. The purple mare hits one of the tables down below, where others had sat down to enjoy their meal, and spurts out blood all over the table’s occupants as her impact sends all of their plates and dishes scattering in a chaotic maelstrom of food and gore.

But as effective as the quick surprise attack had been, Gearing didn’t get away with it entirely scot-free and without consequence.

At the point of impact with the purple mare his entire body jolted with a spark that started at his hindhooves, traveled up his back, and to the tip of his muzzle. His vision jerks and explodes in a white statically collage of broken images as he grunts in shock and pain. He stumbles away from the railing a bit more as he holds his head with a forehoof and groans, “Wha- what the hell?!”

The screaming and yelling turns from joy to confusion and anger as everyone down below tries to figure out exactly what just happened.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head nibbles on his forehooves as his zips around and tries to get Gearing to pay attention. This isn’t the time for this! Pull yourself together!

A raspy buck’s voice screams out over everything, silencing them all, as he bellows, “Who the fuck is trying to ruin my cookout?! You know the rules, no fighting at dinner! Who the fuck was it?! I’ll fucking skin ya, then fuck ya again!”

That must be Cookie! The little blue pegasus says with glee as he taps his forehooves together rapidly. Then his shoulders sag as he comments, Too bad we can’t see him… He gets a devilish grin on his muzzle as he says, Time to poke the hornet’s nest!

Gearing agrees as he spins around and pauses just long enough to stop stumbling before he lobs the first Molotov up and over at the buffet table area where all of the primo food is laid out so carefully in an almost alter like precision. It hits the ground just short of the table with a crash, smashing and splashing the liquid contents causing an instant inferno around the table. He curses his aim as his eyes are still having a problem shifting everything into a single crisp image.

“Not the foooooddd!” Cookie screams from below in dismay.

Several of the occupants down on the first floor actually run over and try to save the table from the fire, despite the liquid burning around it.

His vision finally clears into a single image, but one that looks like it’s underwater as it waves and ripples across his vision. He decides it’s good enough, and launches the molotov aiming for the far side of the table, hoping to completely encircle it if nothing else. But this one manages to hit the table square on one of the earthenware pans that were set out for serving the food, shattering the glass and covering the actual table portion of it with the burning liquid. Whether getting burnt or not, all of the food is obviously ruined by the splattering of burning chemicals all over it. After all, he hasn’t met many ponies who actually like the taste of motor oil. Despite what he may have lead a certain salvage dealer to believe.

“They burnt the food!” Cookie screams out, in a tone that quickly turns to rage. “Get that motherfucker! His ass is mine!”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head quickly clamps his forehooves over his rear as he says, That’s Cookie alright.

“Get down here you little fucking hors d'oeuvre! I’m going to serve it to you nice and raw!” Cookie screams.

Gearing leans back and away as a massive column of fire shoots up and past him, spraying liquid burning fuel all around him as the attack came straight up at him from near the edge of the walkway. Gearing steps back, stumbling a bit more, as he tries to get his footing under himself.

The little blue pegasus nods rapidly as he points down below them. That’s definitely Cookie! He’s under us! Run you fool!

Gearing didn’t need to tell himself twice and is already turning to run towards the doors outside before a pair of molotovs come up and over the edge. As the bottles are coming back down towards his general location, Gearing springs down the hall at an angle with his hind legs, leaping away from the bottles before they smash against the ground where he had just been standing.

But the controlled leap he’d attempted was anything but controlled as he practically ended up accidentally throwing himself down the hallway, crashing into one of the stone walls as he’s sent tumbling down the hall. After a few more tumbles he ends up crashing over and bouncing down onto one of the fire barrels, by the second floor entry door before he comes to rest on the ground in a tangled heap.

The little blue pegasus in his head starts zipping around and screaming in his head space as he says, Of all the fucked up times for something like this to happen!

Gearing starts picking himself up as he shakes his head. He looks over at the metal wire mesh burn barrel, with all of its burning contents scattered across the ground, and comments softly, “Huh… I didn’t crush it. That’s odd…” He shakes his head a bit more before he starts flexing and feeling his wings. He does a quick wing up, lifting himself up onto his hooves in the process.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

His eyes go wide as it dawns on him. “Oh fucking really?! Really fucking funny, Celestia! Are you getting a good clop from this? Well I hope you chafe, you bitch! Of all the fucked up times to decide to do this, you pick now?! No warning. No request of permission, not that you’d ever be decent enough to ask before doing anything anyway. Nothing! Not even a damned alert to let me know what the hell’s going on!”

An icon of a floating feather pops up in the corner of his vision, blinking a few times before fading away as text scrolls across his vision.

Mass Augmentation Matrix Online

Current Status: Active

Gearing clinches his teeth together hard as he snorts before looking out the glass windows and up at the cloudy sky while screaming, “Fuck you!”

He bolts out of the front door and, as soon as he’s outside, he starts running across the skywalk towards where he’d found the fire bombs in the first place. His strides are a collection of asynchronous movements as some of his gaits are shorter than others as he tries to readjust to the active matrix’s attempts to help him. As he starts ducking behind the raised concrete flower beds he screams out, “That did it! I’m pretty sure they’re angry now!”

Dandy yells over from her hiding place in the dumpster with a slight giggle, “Oooooh? How angry are they?” as if it was some kind of joke set up.

“Mad enough that I’m already concerned for my ass!” Gearing retorts.

Yeah, if Cookie wants a turn he’s going to have to convince Celestia to remove her horn first! the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumps.

Dandy laughs as she asks, “The hell did you do? You were gone long enough!”

“I firebombed their dinner party!”

“What the fuck?”

Glass smashes and ponies come pouring out of both sets of front doors as they try to find where the one who had ruined their meal went. Several of them have to jump and tumble out of the way as streams of fire come out of the second floor door as Cookie screams, “Get out there and don’t you dare come back without them! Or I’ll roast you instead!”

A few come running up the stairs that lead up to the sky walk, as the others start spreading out around the plaza. Gearing hides behind the planters and concrete, watching as the red chevrons zip around and spread out, paying particular attention to those that seem to be zipping side to side quicker than the others: an indication that they are a lot closer than the rest. Figuring it’d be better to use something better for close quarters, and loud enough to keep drawing attention to himself, he pulls out and slips the short pistol he found into his mouth.

He peeks out a bit through the debris in the flower bed looking for any movement, then, as he hears their hoof steps close by on the concrete skywalk, he leans out sideways and unloads with the crappy pistol. The two bucks had been so busy running around searching, with their heads up looking into the distance, that they didn’t see him poke out so low to the ground. The weapon, as inaccurate and crappy as it was, still packed enough punch to get the job done. At least when the bullets are coming from so low to the ground and travel up under their improvised helmets and throat area.

As they are falling to the ground, a mare on the skywalk a distance away looks his way and screams as she points a hoof in Gearing’s direction. “They’re on the second floor!”

Gearing hops up and over the flower bed, jumping straight to the ground level as a red bar walks underneath him.

Mid fall he toggles the recently annoying alert.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

The mare under the skywalk had stopped to see who was yelling, and started to look in the direction the other mare was pointing, just in time to catch a clockwork pegasus right in the middle of her back. Though Gearing lands on her with his chest, instead of his hooves, as he simply takes over the space she was occupying with the help of gravity and his far superior mass. She barely has time to scream from various broken bones from being crammed down to half her size under him so suddenly, before Gearing fires the last couple rounds from the makeshift pipe pistol into the back of her head, point blank.

Gearing spits the now worthless gun off to the side as he starts running, and various weapon’s fire starts trailing him across the plaza. Now that he’s so visible, everyone starts converging on his position as he’s running away. Which leads to a practical volley of flaming bottles getting thrown at him. All while random bullets bounce off the ground and concrete around him as those with firearms try to bring him down themselves from a distance. But as far as moving targets go, he’s not playing fair for them.

Every now and then one of his pursuers suddenly falls over and stops chasing him, and in all of the gunfire and ruckus it takes them a while to realize their unfortunate mistake.

They’d thought they were only dealing with one crazy pony, not two.

But after the fifth one fell down, while not even near Gearing, they started wising up and screaming about the fact that there are others to be roasted and brought to Cookie.

Gearing runs across the plaza, crossing on the opposite side of the skywalk pillar from where Dandy is hiding in the dumpster, to keep them out of direct line of sight with her and her strange hidden form of sniping position. As they are pursuing Gearing, and actually gaining on him, with a variety of blades and melee weapons, three of Dandy’s little toys spring up into the air from the ground, each one popping one of Gearing’s pursuers in the head, before falling back to the ground in quick succession.

Over in the dumpster, Dandy slowly turns a small mirror shard wonder glued onto a stick as she tries to keep an eye on her surroundings without giving her position away too much.

Gearing runs over to some crumbling debris, and scrambles up it as quickly as he can. Several bullets impact Gearing along his haunchers and back, and a flaming bottle just barely misses him as it sails past and smashes back at ground level on the other side, before he manages to get back up to the second floor. Gearing leans over the concrete side walls of the skywalk and yells out, without actually looking in her direction, “Get the ones with the guns first, I can handle the fire, but the bullets are going to be a problem!”

He quickly ducks down to avoid the incoming fire, both lead and literal, mostly being successful except for a pair of round ricocheting off his right foreleg and right cheek, before he turns and scoots along the low concrete walls as quickly as he can. He pops up a distance away, with his rifle at the ready, and fires down into a cluster of the raiders that were setting up another round of molotovs to throw. The fighting picks up all around the plaza as others start running around to get into better positions, and a few even start poking out of the windows from the primary office building and start shooting at him with rifles of their own.

Gearing starts zipping around, poking up here and there to get shots at those in the windows. But they don’t want to play by the rules, nor be kind enough to simply sit still and let themselves be shot. They keep ducking and popping in and out of the window as they try to avoid being shot themselves while shooting at him. But, his aim is a bit better than theirs, his weapon is in far superior condition, and he knows he can take a round much better than they can, so he’s willing to risk more to exchange blows. Especially since there’s not an anti-material rifle among them.

That would change things a bit.

One of the mares hiding behind a sheet of metal that’s acting as a wall screams out, “There’s at least one unicorn with them! I just saw a gun float up and shoot somepony!”

Well… we wanted to poke the hornet’s nest, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumbles.

Mission accomplished, Gearing mentally groans as he sights in and shoots a mare that was running from one concrete pillar to the next with some kind of bladed polearm made out of a street sign pole and a wagon fender. And, worryingly, quite a few of them aren’t simply going down with a single shot.

“Gotcha, bitch!” a voice screams from a skywalk to Gearing’s left.

Gearing turns to look in the direction of the scream of glee, to see an earth pony with a Molotov in his fetlock getting pulled back and preparing to throw it.

Gearing activates SATS again.

He quickly looks the buck over, and notices that the buck’s eyes aren’t looking at him, or even remotely in his direction. The dirty yellow buck is focused down at the ground level. And it only takes that epiphany to make the connection that he’s actually looking in the general area where Dandy is hiding inside of the dumpster.

Can’t have that now, can we? the little blue pegasus in his head grumps

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety percent chance of success.

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm. Confirm. Confirm.

Double tap, for when you absolutely positively want to make sure it’s going to get done correctly. The little blue pegasus says with a nod of approval.

While still under the effects of the time slowing spell, Gearing’s rifle swings around and fires a round at his chosen target.

As the buck is bringing his foreleg forward to throw the bottle, the bullet intercepts it first. Hitting the bottle, and breaking it while he’s still holding it. With the chosen target being destroyed in the first strike, the spell ends prematurely, bringing Gearing back to normal time. The yellow buck continues with the follow through motion, though it’s entirely worthless as the liquid is already in the process of scattering out around and all over him. Instantly the dirty yellow buck is enveloped in a massive fireball, as the fluid combusts mid air, that, even after it recedes, is still covering him as he’s thrashing around and screaming while on fire. Gearing notices the sticky burning substance on the concrete in front of the buck, where his foreleg had flicked some of the liquid during his flailing around, and screams directly at Dandy, “They’re throwing napalm mixes! Get out of there; they know where you are!”

Dandy pops out, then starts running away from the dumpster as she screams, “Shit!” A moment later another Molotov comes from another direction, and hits the dumpster that she was just in, followed by another pair of them that causes the entire thing and surrounding area to be set ablaze. As she’s already making good on putting distance between her and the sticky inferno she screams, “Damn! Thanks for the heads up!”

A few chase after her with a variety of melee weapons held in their jaws, and as she’s getting close to the street, since she was heading back towards the bakery across the intersection, a pair of mares step out from around the side of the concrete pillars holding up the skywalk and start whipping burning bottles at her. She pulls out several single shot boxes from her jacket, and fires a volley in their direction. One of the bottles gets hit, and bursts into a flaming fireball that starts scattering out instead of continuing on. Several of the bullets hit the mares that’d thrown the molotovs. One of which was hit just right with a random bullet to the eye and she simply flops over. But the other mare shies away from the bullets and backs around the pillar again as she screams and curses at Dandy for ‘poking her like that’.

The one flaming bottle that didn’t get hit, however, lands right in front of Dandy and makes her jump back and over a trash can to avoid the fireball that was seeking out her, as of yet, unmarred flesh. But, it still managed to catch the tip of her tail and causes her to rollover away from the fire and stomp on her own tail to keep it from burning the whole way up as she yells, “Oww! Hot hot hot hot hot!”

Gearing yells from somewhere above her, “Keep them distracted, I need a minute. And take out any of the fuckers with guns you see!”

She looks around, and doesn’t see him as she screams, “And just what the hell are you going to do in the meantime?!” She doesn’t get an answer, and instead her eyes go wide as another group of molotovs get arced over in her general direction, sending her scrambling back and towards the primary building where they had all poured out of.

As she’s hoofing it, trying to literally out run the stream of fire after her, Dandy screams, “How many of these fuckers are there?!” She’s already panting and having trouble catching her breath as sweat starts dripping down her face from the continued exertion.

A buck steps out with a pool cue in his teeth, and swings it at her head, trying to catch her in the throat by surprise and knock her down. Instead she folds her legs, and her horn flashes as she actually pushes herself down toward the ground with her levitation magic, sliding under the swung pool cue in the process. She tumbles with the momentum and comes up with a pair of single shot boxes, firing them both simultaneously, one for each eye of the very confused and startled buck, before she drops them and continues running away from the rain of fire around her.

And, as if the situation didn’t suck enough, for all involved, Hoofington decided to rain on everyone’s party, with a slowly increasing cold rain.

As she’s nearing the outside set of steps that lead up to the skywalk and second floor reception area, a massive plume of fire erupts from the top of the stairs down towards where she is running. She skids to a halt and jumps to the side as the plume of fire randomly spurts in one direction then another.

“What’s taking so damn long?! Get that fucker over here! It can’t be that hard, not as hard as I am! They got my dick a twitchin’ and Queenie’s trying to sleep! So somepony’s ass is on the menu very soon! Theirs or yours; you choose!” He spurts the flame in a few different directions as he yells with glee from the top of the stairs, “I’m getting an all I can fuck buffet one way or another!”

A Molotov comes arcing from above, and goes right past Dandy, hitting the concrete and smashing not far from her, but splashing far enough that she had to roll away from the pillar she was hiding behind to avoid getting caught by the scattering flaming blobs. She looks up from the ground where she’d landed and her pupils shoot to pin pricks as she sees the only pony in all of this area that could possibly be the infamous Cookie.

The brown earth pony stallion stands on the stairs with a massive flamer on one side that’s dripping flaming liquid in little dribbles, oozing out like overexcited precum. Over most of his body is one hell of a set of metal armor. If it wasn’t for how improvised and jacked up it looks, it could be confused for a set of power armor. How he’s moving around with so much steel over his body is a wonder in and of itself. But, over that, and adding a bit of ridiculousness to it, is a ‘Kiss the Cook’ white apron over his front. At least, it was white at one point. Now it’s covered in stains and a variety of blood smears, some looking far fresher than they should given the situation. But, instead of a chef’s hat, as might be understood with his whole getup and interests, or a power helmet, as would match his actual armor, is an arc welder’s helmet flipped down over his face. The outside of which has a variety of dings and gouges in it from uses that it was quite obviously not designed for. But, regardless, it seems well-suited for it.

Dandy quickly whips out several of her single shot boxes and shoots at him, all well aimed and precise shots, but they do nothing more than spark and plink off of his armor as she slowly backs up.

Cookie looks down at her, and his grin can practically be heard as he laughs, “Ohhh helloooo there darlin’! Myyyy, aren’t you a pretty thang! Ohhh yeah… I feel in the mood for some rump roast alright!” He shoots the flamer off in a couple random directions as he laughs, “That’s right, fight me some. I like ’em fiery!”

She starts scooting back as she yells, “Oh hell no!”

Cookie starts coming down the stairs as he says, “Well I’m hungry… and if you aren’t gonna give me some of that sugar and spice and everything nice, then I’ll just roast your ass and settle for some flash grilled fun!” He aims the flamer to her left, and spurts out a stream of fire that sticks along the ground and makes a rather solid line of burning bluish flame, causing her to jump to her right. Only to have to retreat more towards the middle as he fires off to her right side as well. The quick bursts end up creating a burning tunnel of pure inferno with blue at the base that grows like hellfire weeds on either side of her. Leaving her with nowhere to go except straight forward, towards him and his raging flamer hard-on, or straight backward, where she’d just run from and already knows it’s not safe either.

But, given the apparent choices, getting further away from that flamer seems the most acceptable to Dandy.

She rocks side to side as she slowly backs up and glares at him. “Burn in hell you fucker!”

Cookie stops and stares at her as he starts huffing inside of his arc helmet. “I’m so sick of you bitches not listening to what you’re told!”

“If you’ve got any bright ideas, now would be the time!” Dandy yells as she quickly tries to back up as she whips out more of her tiny derringers and keeps them trained on Cookie. Though, at the end of this fiery channel, is a group of ponies standing back and watching. And waiting. And, obviously, not intending on letting her get past them. As to do so would mean their places would be swapped for Cookie’s Fun Time. And, really, no one has fun during Cookie’s Fun Time, except Cookie.

“Well done it is!” Cookie yells as he opens up with the flamer.

The plume of fire races towards her, in full hellfire wrath.

And when it’s about to wash over her and threatens to incinerate her out of existence, Gearing drops down in front of her by kicking off the concrete skywalk and landing with the added momentum of gravity and his kick boost. He jumps in front of her, yet almost on top of her, wearing absolutely nothing but his PipBuck, and immediately his wings slap down in front of himself, folded, overlapped, and curved. As he’s nearly sitting on her head, his wings act like the bow of a boat and cause the plume of fire to break and cascade over it, spilling out at an angle and leaving her in a small cone of unscorched area as he blocks the fire with his own wings and body. Even so the ambient heat from the passing flames is intense.

She looks up at him in shock as he arcs his neck to look at her between his legs and screams, “I’ll take care of Cookie, you get the grunts!”

Dandy nods quickly, then pulls back from being under him and quickly starts running away. She yanks over a wooden table, flipping it up and over with her telekinesis, to cause it to splat across the burning liquid on the right side and making a temporary bridge. A bridge that she takes advantage of before it’s even stopped moving, as she tries to pat out small smoking patches on her white coat.

Instantly the bandits at the end of the fire tunnel run after her, splitting up, as the two sides start shooting at each other again.

The fire plume dies down as Cookie lets off the trigger and asks, “Oh, what the hell is this?!”

Gearing peers at him through his semi-transparent wings, then starts straightening up as he flicks the liquid off of his green crystalline limbs. “A new dance partner, you rapist fuck.”

“Awww it ain’t rape, don’t be such a prude. They obviously want it or they wouldn’t come around my house! It’s just a struggle snuggle!” Cookie starts laughing as he says, “Oh, you think that armor will save you!? I’ll roast your ass in it. Then let’s see how much shit your going to be talking with my dick in your mouth!” He shoots another burst at Gearing, this one managing to get some through to hit Gearing on his chest before he can fold his wings and start blocking and diverting the rest of it.

Cookie slowly starts walking down the stairs towards Gearing as he keeps laughing. “I don’t care what those are made of, nothing hides from fire for long!”

Gearing groans and growls in response.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Cookie cuts off the stream, then starts laughing again as he says, “Had enough?” He blasts Gearing again. “Huh? Have you?” Again he covers Gearing in flaming fluid. “I can hear your cries of pain from here, like fucking music to my ears!”

Gearing starts walking towards him then gets hit with another burst of flame and starts walking slower as the flamer’s inferno entirely envelopes him.

Cookie changes the flow on the flamer, turning it into a massive spurting cone of flame that Gearing entirely gets encompassed in, so much so that line of sight is entirely removed as he’s entirely lost in the blaze. But Cookie knows he’s still on target as he hears Gearing’s groans and snorts of pain even over the sound of his flamer. He changes the flow again as he yells, “How’s the armor treating you?! I’m going to make you a canned roast, you power armor having fuck!”

When he changes the flow, it changes into a single strong stream, most of the outer corona of fire disappearing as Gearing becomes fully visible again, with the liquid hitting him in the chest as he’s not far away. Gearing glares at him as he groans out with a half laugh, “Ohhh hooo hoo… That’s brisk!”

Cookie takes a step back as he yells, “How the hell are you still walking?! You should be steamed canned pony by now!”

Gearing jumps over, traveling the length of the burning fuel as he flares out his wings and rears up. “‘Struggle Snuggle’ this, you sick bastard!” As he’s rearing up, and with Cookie starting to do the same, he smacks the arc welding helmet blocking Cookie’s face upwards, almost knocking the helmet off entirely but at least flipping the faceguard up so he has a clear line of sight to Cookie’s face. And, it’s there and then that he can see the brown buck’s clear blue eyes. Currently the size of dinner plates with pupils shrunk in fear. However, he’s without the yellowed whites that Gearing had figured such a psychopath should have. Which at least removes one worry about the situation for Gearing. He hops forward with his hind legs, forcing Cookie back down with one foreleg around his neck as he screams, “Face hugs!”, and pulls Cookie’s bare exposed face into his articulated chest plates as he starts hugging Cookie with the smothering affections of an overbearing mother.

But Gearing has been under the concentrated fire of a flamer. Walked against its length, and embraced the fire itself. Before embracing Cookie. The result is a temperature so hot that the fur on Cookie’s face scorches away before it’s even touched by Gearing’s articulated chest plates. And the moment Gearing’s body actually does touch his bare skin, Cookie’s flesh instantly starts scorching and sizzling as it’s cooked on an improvised Gearing Griddle.

Cookie begins screaming, and, for once, it’s a pained panicked screeching as Gearing holds him in place and starts twisting and wrestling Cooking to the ground with his forelegs. Cookie unleashes the flamer point blank into Gearing’s underbelly, as that’s all he can reach at the moment as he’s firing blindly, and just keeps hold of the trigger as long as he can to try and get the scalding monstrosity off of him.

After dragging Cookie to the ground on his side, Gearing reaches over with his other fetlock and screams in a mixture of pain and a whole lot of anger, “When you see those two bitches, tell them who sent ya!” He grabs the large custom flamer fuel tank with a fetlock, bending and breaking off the entire section where the connectors and valves plug into it. The action causes the tank to rupture and the entire area to erupt into a massive fireball as the overpressurized tank of fuel rapidly oxidizes.

A buck and a mare that had been standing at the top of the stairs, watching the two wrestle with their mouth agape, are blown away and backwards by the blast. Both getting covered in the flaming liquid in the process and rolling around for a few moments as they too are cooked as reward for their gawking.

As the flames are receding, but the entire blast area is still covered in either small puddles of blue burning liquid or scorch marks, a very blackened Gearing stands hunched over with his hind legs spread very far apart from each other as he groans. He leans over and rubs his head on the ground a bit as he says, “Ohhh gods… ouuu ow…” He straightens up and starts walking away, around the stairs and towards the main building, as he says, “I’m pretty sure that’s not what they meant when they warned me about ‘fire crotch’ in basic… ow o wow… Ouuu ow.” He trots away as he sways his hind legs out wide to give himself as much moving air as possible. The rain coming down hits his brassy body and sizzles on contact. A few of the drops hit the crystals on his wings and instantly boil off, but a few of them doing so introduce a crack, or widen existing cracks, in the green crystalline structure in the process.

* * *

While Gearing is busy getting baptized in napalm, Dandy’s busy running around and dodging the incoming fire aimed at her as she’s making her escape. Some bullets. Some literally fire.

The six ponies chasing after her are relentless. The pair of unicorns in the group keep shooting at her, aiming for legs and other debilitating wounds as they all run. Apparently, they are rather keen to take her alive. At least if they can. The pair of party wreckers have angered Cookie to the point that they want to make sure she’ll last long enough for him to get all of his frustrations out. Instead of them getting stuck taking any of the abuse he has planned.

One of the barely functional rifles gets a lucky shot off as she’s entering the garbage dump building, hitting Dandy in her left hind leg as she’s jumping through the door. But, the sight of the fresh splatter of blood on the ajar door elicits a whoop of joy from her pursuers as they storm into the building behind her. As the door is thrown open, a storm of lead is unleashed from near the ground as a dozen single shot boxes fire up at the door in a neat grid. The buck unicorn and the mare earth pony in the lead catch every bit of it in the chest, neck, face, and head as they collapse into the doorway. The remaining four come in more cautiously, with the unicorn actually grabbing one of the bodies and hovering it in front of her as she enters, hoping to draw some fire with it or, at the worst of it, block some rounds meant for her with it..

With that being a bit too much to consistently hold up, she drops it and grabs a severed head of some unfortunate buck that had been on the pile, and starts hovering it in front of her by a few feet. She uses it to poke around corners and the like, as if it was someone looking around, before going ahead and entering the space herself.

A few bits of dust and stone falling down above, along with a dull thumping from heavy hoof falls, makes them all look up. The unicorn mare yells out as she tosses the head to the side, “She’s on the second floor!” Then they start running.

But, as they are going, the last one in the line falls down as bullets fire rapidly from a hole in the ceiling. Catching them in the back, back of the head, and opening up their throat to the world.

The others keep running, paying no mind to their dying comrade.

Upstairs they quickly go room by room. They know the place better than anyone. So they have the home field advantage. At least as much of a home field as can be had around a literal waste dump. They check the side rooms as they are going, knowing the one quick path up, and making sure she doesn’t have an opportunity to double back and sneak past them. They have her trapped, and they want to keep it that way.

They come to the room that had the hole in the floor, where their comrade had just been riddled by bullets, and slowly walk through the room. The pile of bodies in here is rotting and festering with disgust and disease. But, it doesn’t draw so much as a batted eye from them as they walk through familiar territory. They pause at the hole in the floor, and the unicorn looks down at their dead fellow gang member and comments, “She’s using a buncha one shots. She can’t have many of them.” She hovers one of the little boxes up and looks it over. She gives it a sniff before dropping it and looking around. “Not a very big caliber. She’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

One of the bucks bringing up the rear looks around at the bodies around them as he asks, “Think she knows it’s a dead end, and there’s only one way out?”

The mare shakes her head. “Doubt it. No one but us has gone all the way to the top.”

The other buck walks over and kicks a body as they say, “Hey… here’s Jaws… Cookie was looking for him; what’s he doing in here?”

The mare looks over and shrugs. “Probably trying to hide. Dumbass messed up and put the wrong leaves in Queenie’s dinner. Gave Queenie the shits, and Cookie was pissed at the mess it was making.”

The buck looks over at her and narrows his eyes as he says, “Like it’s that easy to tell the difference between dried parsley and dried cilantro.”

The mare shrugs. “Better his ass than mine.” She nods towards the door as she says, “Come on, let’s track this bitch down. I wanna be able to sleep tonight. And fresh ass burns aren’t going to let that happen.”

As she’s walking away, a metal can drops in the room they’d just passed through. They spin around and look at the direction of the noise as the unicorn raises her rifle and looks in the room. “What was that?” she asks with a hiss.

As they start walking as one towards the door they’d just walked through, the pistol boxes on the ground that had been discarded float up soundlessly behind them. Then they zip over and unleash their torrent of bullets into the back of the heads of all three of them with a cacophony blasting out from the simultaneous discharge of so many small calibers at once.

After they’ve fallen to the ground, the pistols likewise lose their magical support and go tumbling to the ground as gravity takes over. Instead the same aura wraps around the rifle, whipping it up in the air and pointing down at them as it cocks and chambers a new round. Then the large butcher knife, that one of the earth ponies had been holding, floats up and starts stabbing down into each one in turn. It makes sure they are dead via deep gouges before ending up jabbed in the unicorn mare’s back. The rifle also loses its magical glow and falls towards the ground an instant later.

Before the gun even hits the ground, a pair of corpses rises up from the pile in the corner as Dandy climbs out of the dead bodies. She gasps for breath as even the cloth mask she’s wearing didn’t help matters much once she was literally basting in rotting corpses.

She puts a hoof to her chest as she blurts out, “Oh my god, sweet Celestia I thought I was going to die in there! If I didn’t drink that potion before getting in there I’d probably already be dead from an infection!” She takes a few deep breaths and shivers as she looks at the fresh corpses. “Why the hell didn’t you just go on! I could have been out of here by now… Oh god, I think I’m gonna throw up.” She starts walking away, shivering and shaking as she’s flicking off one piece of viscera after another as she moans, “I need a shower so bad… Are the caps really worth this shit?”

She pauses, and looks behind her. A moment later her collection of pistols zip over to her and disappear in one of her large outer pockets as the butcher’s knife and rifle float in front of her menacingly. As she’s coming down the stairs to the first floor she screams, “I swear I’m going to go geld that motherfucker for this!”

A massive explosion echoes in the plaza, shattering glass and sending debris cascading down on her from the building shaking from the blast. Her eyes go wide as she yells, “What the hell was that?!”

She quickly runs out of the door, trailing various decaying bits after her as the slimy chunks fall off her once white coat. She slows to a trot as she takes in the devastation of the massive fire blast that took place at the base of the stairs.

The rapid explosion seemed to convert most of its fuel into a pressure blast, instead of a slow burn. Still, everything for a wide radius from the base of the stairs has been blackened and scorched. Although a few puddles of liquid are still left to burn. As she’s slowly walking through it, her eyes zip around. The water falling down from on high hits and sizzles off of the pony with the full suit of metal body armor. Likewise the two ponies not far beyond, who’d apparently been blasted off of the skywalk above, lay where they died, smoking and still sizzling as the rain steadily drizzles on their still hot burnt flesh.

Judging by the smears of partially cooked and heat coagulated blood, the pair lived a bit longer than they would have preferred. And died badly. But of all of the bodies she’s seeing in the plaza, the one she’s really looking for at the moment isn’t present.

She follows a few smears and drag marks in the liquidy burnt flesh towards the main building as she slowly reloads one of her pistols after another and puts them back in their holsters to be ready for use again.

Footnote: Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

Gravity Differential alignment at 87%

Gravity Differential alignment at 100%

Alignment of ‘Mass Augmentation Matrix’ complete, debugging in progress, please stand by. . .

‘Gravity Matrix’ Online. . .

Perk Unlocked: Gravity Defier Implant (Weight +/-) – Modified from the same principles that were used to lower the overall weight of the Shadowbolt power armor for the Equestrian Air Force, this talisman implant bestows the recipient with the ability to control their weight. While this does allow the user to be far lighter than they would be normally, this does NOT impart the Light Step perk. Furthermore, it does not affect the mass of the subject, it simply lowers the effects that gravity has on the mass of the user, and only the user not anything they carry, thus reducing applicable weight. While switched on this results in a passive increase in speed, general macro agility, and carry capacity as the user still retains their base strength, or enhanced strength if applicable, but don’t have to dedicate as much of it to carrying themselves or fight inertia. Unlike other perks that affect base stats, the beneficial effects of this talisman, in regards to skills, are limited to Sneak, and only situationally applicable where weight and encumbrance would be a factor.

Author's Note

This chapter marks the first of 2020, and the one year anniversary of starting this whole journey with all of you. It also continues a thread of connecting events of the past, to the present. Though some of the significance may not be fully apparent for some time. One strong commonality is that decisions, and decision making, matters.

In this chapter, a new challenge is overcome, and along the way a few of our resident clockwork's rather unique problems are beginning to be revealed.

Thanks to everyone that's helped me out along the way and have provided encouragement through their ongoing interest, which continues to drive me to keep going. My beta readers. My readers. Everyone who comments, interacts, discusses the story, kicks around ideas with me, or simply lets me use them as a sounding board for the story. You're all amazing, and thank you very much.

As always, comments, questions, and critiques welcome and encouraged!

-Quillsy

54 Hot Topics

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In a smaller closed off cavern from the rest of the Stormfront complex is a section designated for a variety of purposes. Mainly target practicing, spell testing, and the testing and application of explosive ordinance. In short, the room was designed to be destroyed.

Repeatedly.

And the reason why can be exemplified in no better way than the two individuals who are currently sitting in it’s very center, surrounded by a variety of makeshift tables and wood. And, beyond those, is a large stack of concrete, set in a semicircle, with random and alternating rings of sandbags and other physical defenses against blasts and ricochets.

As Gearing sits in his tailored flight suit, minus the cloth wing covers, he carefully works on a collection of wires sticking out of a little device between his hooves. Tower, in a simple Equestria BDU, likewise sits nearby working on his own little collected mass of electronics and chemicals.

He taps on Gearing’s shoulder to get his attention. Once he does he looks at Gearing and says with the mirth of a small child on Hearth’s Warming Day, “Okay… now watch this carefully… You see these two tubes?”

Gearing looks the strange gizmo over and notices that the two plastic or polymer tubes running parallel next to each other are almost completely full of clear liquids. But, from what he can tell, they are being kept separate by a collection of smaller connecting tubes and valves between them. And, from Gearing’s recent experiences, he knows this is for a very good reason.

Tower taps a couple buttons on the gizmo with a hoof and holds the item very still between them. As he does, a soft hum comes from the device as the valves open, and slowly, very slowly, one chemical is pumped into the other, with an overflow, now open, at the top allowing the other chemical to circulate even faster through that way as it’s pushed up into it. The design creates a small current through which the two fluids gently become introduced to each other. As the two clear chemicals come in contact with each other, a streamer of color appears in the center as the chemicals react. Slowly, like a small nebula forming before their very eyes, the vivid pinks and oranges take shape. It alternates from a morning’s sunlight, bright and full of promise, to a more evening shade like the last light of a dying day. And, before the colors have entirely changed, Tower chucks the little device as far as he can into the ‘no pony’s land’ area of the cavern, and hits a button set into the ground next to them.

A moment later the other side of their fortification lights up with a magnificent shower of sparks and flashes of color as the device finally reaches critical mass and explodes. They sit and watch with wonder as the multicolored fire back washes over the various physical barriers, straight for them, then curls up and over the shield that appeared a moment after Tower hit the button. Through the magical barrier they can see the fire at work clawing and climbing everywhere in front of them. Then, almost as quickly, it recedes back and disappears into simple smoke and scorch marks. The stone and defensive structures have been through so much similar treatment that this set of scorch marks gets lost with those already covering everywhere. A moment later they hear motors rev up as air is pumped into the cavern, and the fumes from the blast are directed over and out through ventilation grates. A few moments after the air becomes clear again, the shield drops, and the residual heat of the blast hits both of them. Not a dangerous level of heat, but warm enough to make the entire cavern uncomfortable for anyone that stayed in for an extended period of time.

Tower, still looking at the flash point, reaches over and taps on Gearing’s shoulder as he says, “See… there’s so many different chemicals that, when they interact with each other, they can release a great deal of energy as they react with one another. Some do so quickly and violently, others it takes a bit more time. Then, still others, just sit there after being mixed… and just wait for somepony in the world to have a dirty thought it doesn’t like before spontaneously blowing.” He chuckles before he actually looks at Gearing. “The trick is to find which mix you need, to do what you are wanting to do… then do it properly… Because if you don’t… well… you won’t be around long to explain and apologize for your mistakes.”

Gearing looks down at the device he’s working on as he asks, “Then… why are you having me do that?” He looks up at Tower and says softly, “If I screw this up I could end up getting you hurt… or killed.”

Tower looks him over as he takes in a deep breath, as he obviously sees the young buck’s priority list of worries did, in fact, not include Gearing’s own safety. He taps on the device that Gearing is making as he continues in that same deep rich voice of his that always seems to put those around him at ease, regardless of the situation, “Well, first off, we’re not messing with the chemicals yet… That’ll be for another time. Once I’m sure you have a firm enough grasp of the chemistry… Until then, it’s strictly premade items.” He laughs a big booming laugh before he taps Gearing on the back. “And even then, only in smaller doses… Learn how to use the stuff that’s already properly made, and safe to handle, before you try to learn how to make your own concoctions… It’s like we are cooks…” He puts a hoof to himself as he grins. “I’m the head chef… I have enough experience to know how and where to make tweaks and substitutions to maximize the… punch.” He grins even wider before he taps on Gearing’s chest. “And you’re a cook. You’re still learning the ropes and, until you know better, you stick to following the recipes I give you.”

“Okay then,” Gearing begins before holding up the devices he’s working on. “That doesn’t really explain why you’re having me making these for you though? I mean, you’re adding the mixes and such yourself… But what’s this for?”

Tower leans over and wraps his right foreleg around Gearing’s shoulders, as he grabs the half completed device with his left fetlock and begins looking it over. “This, my wee force of nature, is a very important lesson. Probably one of the most important ones I can ever impart to you.”

Gearing looks at it a moment before he looks up at Tower and asks, “Making sure all of the electronics are correctly timed and synced to prevent improper or premature detonation?”

Tower laughs heartily before he shakes his head. “No, my friend. That should be a given! That’s not some life altering epiphany, like I am about to grant you. For if you screw that up, it’s likely a mistake you’re only going to get to make once.”

“Because it’ll blow up in your face and kill you?”

“Very likely so, yes!” Tower laughs again before waving the device around again. He leans in close to Gearing as he holds up the device so Gearing can see it clearly. “No, Nitro, the important lesson I have for you is this: If you’re really good at something… never do it for free…”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and frowns at him as he obviously instantly doesn’t like this train of thought. “That sounds pretty greedy, Tower… What about helping ponies? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

Tower bobs his head around before nodding. “Well, yes. But, then, ‘No’.” He passes the device back to Gearing as he sits down in front of the much smaller member of his unit. “You see… if you do things for free for others… all the time… you’re going to cause problems. For everyone. And especially yourself.” He waves a hoof and shakes his head. “I don’t mean money. That’s besides the point.”

Gearing tilts his head. “Then... what?”

Tower leans down and looks him face to face as he grins. “Honestly? It doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s some form of composition… Favors, even exchange, materials, etcetera.” He straightens up as he waves a hoof broadly. “You see… If they are willing to give you something for it to be done, it does a few things… even more so if they actually do. First, they have some skin in the fight, so to speak. They’re invested in it. If things go bad, they actually lose something. So, they actually care that it, whatever it is, takes place. So they’re likely to even help make sure it happens. If you don’t charge, they’ll have literally lost nothing if you fail. So to them, it’ll be nothing, except they’ll simply be where they already were to start out with. Whereas for you, Nitro, the cost of failure could be your very life.” He rocks his head around as he says, “There’s also the problem that, if you don’t charge, you’re going to have everyone coming to you for even the most trivial of things… And this can probably be the worst of all… Because they might have, or could have, simply done it themselves. Or, at the very least, found someone else to do it that was just skilled enough to do it. But, no, they’d choose you… because you are free.”

Tower pats Gearing on the back as he says with a smile. “Think of it this way… If you get to be known as the best repair pony of the world, top tier technician… and that you don’t charge for your services… you’ll have people swarming you with stupid shit…” He waves a hoof around in a circle as he rattles off, “Toasters, mixers, lamps, shavers, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera… And if you are too busy dealing with that nonsense… you won’t be available to take care of the really important stuff… Like… medical pods… maintenance bots that can go off to do even more work… vertibuck medivacs… shield generators… you know… Things that, if they fail, can cost countless lives as a result.”

Gearing looks down at the device in his hooves as he asks softly, “So… charge not because I’m greedy… but in order to make sure that what I’m doing is worth it and my time is being spent well?”

Tower reaches over and taps him on the back, hard, a few times as he lets out a few of his deep toned chuckles. “You are a swift learner.”

Gearing looks at the device in his hooves, then up at Tower as he says, “And you’ve been having me make these, as compensation for teaching me about explosives?”

Tower clicks his tongue as he closes an eye and points a hoof at Gearing’s nose. “Now you’re getting it!” He grins even wider as he says, “And since you’re doing that, which we both know you can, it lets me focus on making the proper mixes at the same time, so we get the work done faster overall.”

Gearing’s ears jump up in recognition as he grins up at Tower and blurts out, “Like the chef thingy you said earlier!”

“Exactly!” Tower says with a cheerful booming laugh as he pats Gearing on the back a few more times with increasing force each time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Once inside the first floor of the primary office building Cookie’s gang has been using as a hideout, Dandy finds the place eerily quiet. The radio has even been turned off. Given all of the noise that’d been around the entire plaza, she starts getting unnerved by the silence as she takes one slow step after another. But, given the soppy disgusting material over her hooves, she can’t help the noise her own hoof falls are making. She eventually grabs a couple bottles and tin cans from a trash can, and hurls them with her magic up and in an arc into the atrium where Cookie’s dinner party just was. They clang and clatter and the bottles actually break, scattering over the corpse of some purple mare that looks like she had a run in with a fork lift.

She stops and listens. But, still, nothing happens. She continues snooping around as she starts getting jealous of Gearing’s PipBuck, and can’t help but wonder how much he’d want for it.

She walks along the side corridor leading away from the main atrium, and finds an office door wide open. As she’s getting close she can feel a marked uptick in heat, and wonders if there’s another bonfire in there. As she’s stepping up to the door she hears a groaning voice yell out at her.

“Stay away!”

She pauses, and tilts her head as she asks, “Gearing? Is that you?”

“Don’t come near me!”

She lets out a sigh as she looks around and her ears fall down as she thinks of what he’d just been through. She pokes her head around the doorframe and peeks in as she says softly, “I’m not going to hurt you… You’re safe now… Are you okay?”

Gearing is sitting on a concrete block by his haunches, with his hind legs splayed out wide as he holds onto two limestone blocks on either side of himself with his forehooves. He glares at her as he grumbles, “That’s not it… Stay back.”

She pauses as she quickly glances around. She whips her pistols out and starts looking around with narrowed eyes as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Gearing groans and leans forward. “This.” He taps his forehoof onto the stone wall near him, over one of the prewar posters about stopping espionage and reporting suspected changelings. Instantly the paper begins to smoke in a hoof shape and, as he starts pulling his hoof away, the paper actually starts to burn with a slow flame.

Her eyes go wide as she says, “Holy shit, we gotta cool you down!” She looks around as she says, “Hold on, I’ll go get some water!”

He shakes his head and yells out “Don’t! That’s bad!” She turns back to look at him as she raises an eyebrow and he adds, “You know anything about properties of metal? Super heated metal does not react well to rapid cooling.”

She looks around as she asks softly, “So… what do we need to do? Do you need a healing potion?”

Gearing shakes his head. “That won’t help right now, It’ll just burn off before it actually did any use….” He hangs his head and lets out a sigh as he says, “I need to cool down as evenly as possible. But not too quickly. I’m basically a one ton mass heater right now… If I step out in the rain it’s likely my wings’ll shatter and my gears will lock up from uneven warping.”

“Anything I can do to help?” she asks quietly as she slowly starts walking into the room.

Gearing shrugs as he says, “If you happen to know any ice related magic, that can drop a cold block in here and help lower the ambient temperature of the room, that’d be helpful. Beyond that, I don’t think so. It’ll just take a bit of time.” He leans over and groans as he says, “Sorry about this.”

“Sorry, my ass…” Dandy says with a scowl.

Gearing looks down and closes his eyes as he regularly sucks in air, then blows out a much hotter exhale that creates a visible distortion in front of his mouth. He blinks a few times as he starts feeling a breeze blowing across his face and looks up to try and find the source of the air disturbance.

Dandy has sat down not far from him, and is using her telekinetic magic on a large piece of metal, likely an old stop sign at one point based on its shape, to fan him by swishing it back and forth in front of him. She looks him over and gives a sheepish smile as she says, “Sorry… it’s the best I can do right now.”

Gearing smiles at her and chuckles as he slowly fans out his wings and lets the circulating air pass over him. “Nah… that’s helping.” Given their recent activities the sweat he can see and smell from her would make sense. The exertion she just delivered upon herself from the fight. But he’s glad she doesn’t try to get even closer, regardless of her desire to help, since the sweat output had jumped up to the point that it’s dripping off her face and muzzle. She wants to help, and he knows he doesn’t need to point out the obvious to her. So he simply allows her to help him, while being kind enough not to draw attention to how hot and miserable she must be feeling at the moment. He gives her a wide grin as he says, “Like you said, you’re not helpless.”

She smiles as she looks him over. As she continues fanning him she asks, “That was fucking crazy… Did we really just do that?”

Gearing grins at her as he nods. “Yeah… we did…” He puts extra emphasis on the ‘we’, verbally acknowledging the team effort. Earning an even wider smile from her in return.

She watches carefully as several pieces of blackened char actually float away from him, revealing the shining golden colored brass underneath. “You know, it’s a good thing you don’t have skin, or I’m sure he’d have burnt all of that off too.”

Gearing bobs his head around. “It’s why I dropped everything in a trash can before coming down. Didn’t want to risk it getting burnt and ruined.”

She laughs as she asks, “You really are more worried about your stuff getting burned than your own hide aren’t you?”

Gearing grins at her as he retorts, “If you haven’t noticed, my hide is a bit more fire resistant than your average buck’s.”

“Touché.”

“Besides, even if my skin got burnt off, it’d just recover me quickly at the first opportunity,” Gearing adds.

Dandy looks him over before she asks, “Then… why isn’t it already? Why have you been walking around like that?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I got hit with some kind of weird ass weapon. It jumbled up my implants. The one that controls my skin hasn’t come online yet. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

She looks him over as she says quietly, “Well… fuck… that’s gotta suck.”

Gearing frowns at her as he says,” You have no idea..”

Her ears perk up as she asks, “Have you tried talking to the Collegiate?”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at her. Then, after a few moments of confusion, shakes his head. “Uh… I’m going to guess… ‘No’? Given that I have no idea who they are.”

Dandy grins as she starts pointing off towards the east. “They’re a bunch of eggheads that run a hospital of sorts over at the college. If anyone can help you with your implants, it’d be them.”

Gearing looks at her for a moment, giving it careful consideration, before he hangs his head and shakes it slowly. “Nah… that’s not an option… Thanks for the information though.”

Dandy looks him over as she asks, “Well, why not? If your systems are getting screwed up, you need to get them fixed as soon as possible or they’re going to cause a buncha problems, aren’t they?”

Gearing looks over at her and waves a hoof slowly. “I’m not allowed. The equipment installed in me is highly classified… Just to even try and access them takes a level of skill, and clearance, that you don’t just stumble across.” He shakes his head. “Besides, nearly everything in me is custom tailored to me. And even opening me up just to look at them would cause massive problems.”

Dandy looks him over as she asks softly, “How so?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath then shrugs as he says, “My body’s so integrated, that just opening me up to get access to them could kill me.” He shakes his head hard again, casting off the idea. “Even during the war, as they made the upgrades, they had to be extremely careful with how they went about each and every step. And it took an entire team of individuals, who all already knew exactly what they were doing, for them to even attempt to do anything… Without a similar set up, and knowledge base, the chances of success are pretty much nil.” He shrugs. “I’m pretty much stuck hoping they’ll come back online on their own, or I can find a functioning automatic center that’s capable of doing something to reboot them.”

Dandy slowly looks him over as she asks, “And… what if they are damaged beyond repair, and can’t be fixed? What if they actually need to be replaced?”

Gearing chuckles as he looks at the floor around their hooves “Yeah… I’ve already thought about that… It’s why I gave myself the chem treatment…” He points a hoof at himself. “If they don’t come online, I’m in some trouble. That’s for sure. But…” He shrugs as he gives her an easy smile. “I’ll make do… I always have.”

She nods as she looks around the room they are in, then looks back at him as she asks, “How’s the temperature now? Think you’re cool enough for a healing potion?”

Gearing nods a bit, and reaches over towards the wall. He taps on the remaining pieces of the anti espionage poster, and simply wipes soot on it instead of causing it to combust this time. He leans forward as he says, “Yeah. I think so, now I just need-”

He’s interrupted by a potion bulb practically appearing in front of his muzzle, open top towards his mouth. Held aloft with the overglow of Dandy’s levitation. He looks up over it at Dandy and finds her glaring at him like she’s expecting a challenge. Gearing smiles lightly and says, “Thanks,” and opens his mouth. As soon as his mouth is sufficiently open Dandy dutifully pours the potion in slowly. The first splashes of the liquid let out a slight sizzle sound, but beyond that it does seems to slowly be absorbed and slide down his throat as she continues to pour it in. After he’s sucked down the last of the potion, he stands there and lets out a sigh as the potion goes to work.

Dandy watches the cracks in the crystals of his outstretched wings rapidly seal up, like someone had rewound the video of the crystalline structures fracturing. They had already been slowly knitting themselves back together as the pair were talking, but with the potion the action jumps into a rapid pace. In other areas, small holes are filled in and over his whole body one piece of metal or another noticeably moves and shifts back into the correct shape. She slowly trails her eyes up to his as she asks, “So can you use potions as an energy source, to speed up healing, too or?”

Gearing shrugs. “One of my implants is able to increase magical healing’s effectiveness. It’s partially working… It’s definitely increasing my normal rate at knitting back together, and it might be fully functional already but I won’t really know until I put it through a few tests. And I’m not interested in getting that damaged just to test it… But, beyond that, no. Not really.”

She snickers as she looks him over. “Well… that’s still better than me. Without a potion I’m going to be in rough shape for a while.” She looks around as she says softly, “I really need to learn me one of those healing spells.”

Gearing leans over and taps her on the shoulder gently. “Hey… see… that’s better than me… The only ‘magic’ I’m capable of, is fixing or breaking things at record speed.”

She giggles as she looks around aimlessly. “Yeah. It does have its uses.” She glances down at herself and frowns as she says, “I need a bath so bad… This is ridiculous.”

Gearing points over towards the doorway, where they both can clearly see the lovely Hoofington torrential downpour taking place just outside of the building. “Well, a shower’s always an option.”

She glances at him and rolls her eyes as she says, “I’m not showering in the rain. I don’t know how quickly you got into here, but that shit’s unseasonably cold. And I’m not stupid enough to stay out in it and get sick.”

Gearing rubs a hoof over his muzzle as he says, “Well… I could probably rig up a water heater real quick…?” more to himself than anything as he thinks out loud.

She looks over at him with undivided attention and raises an eyebrow as she says, “Do what?”

Gearing nods as he gets up and starts walking past her. “I saw a still they had for cooking up hooch, I bet I can convert that into a decent enough water heater to do for now.”

Her eyes go wide as they practically sparkle. “You’re shitting me!”

Gearing shakes his head as he’s going out the door. “Nah, shouldn’t even take me very long. They have enough fires going already. Just gotta direct the flow of the pipes correctly.”

Dandy partially moans as she closes her eyes and thinks about having an actual hot shower, “If you can make that happen, I’ll have your first born!”

Gearing pokes his head around the edge of the doorframe from out in the hallway and looks in at her for a moment before he smirks and says, “Hey… don’t get fresh.”

She starts blushing half way down her neck as she shakes a hoof at him and screams, “It’s just an expression! I didn’t really mean I’d screw ya stupid until ya knocked me up!”

Gearing stares at her a bit longer before he says flatly, “That was… far more specific of an answer than I would have expected.” Then pulls back and goes off to the atrium as he snickers. Even more so as she starts screaming at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and if you keep up these wild accusations I’m going to shoot you!”

Gearing shakes his head as he chuckles and starts surveying the area, “Ooohhh boy.”

As they are exploring the area, Dandy goes about taking off her coat, and trying to scrape off the various gore and disgust from herself as she lays out her long coat and tries to clean up. The buffet table, while highly scorched, actually still smells rather good. And she debates on going ahead and seeing if any of it was still edible.

Until a partially rotten eyeball of roughly equine size comes loose from her mane and falls down across her muzzle. Entirely ruining her appetite for the foreseeable future. She’s so desperate to get clean, she starts pouring the various bottles of beer, already open, over her back and washing her legs with the contents of the various cups and mugs that had been abandoned around the tables.

As she’s still trying to scrape pieces of things she doesn’t even want to try and identify, because thinking about it would make her retch even more than she’s already feeling like doing, Gearing comes back out of a side area dragging something large and metal.

She walks over and looks at him as he drags the large barrel-like container over to the far side of the center area of the atrium, where the two ponies are still set up as burning macabre decorations. He disappears and comes back a moment later with a large coil of copper pipe, and feeds the coiled pipe across the burning pile of wood and tires, connecting one end of the pipe back to the container.

She watches with interest as he zips around, using a couple planks of metal that were, at one time, a set of shelves, and sticks the far end out through a broken window. And in short order, with a few piled barrels for proper support, he creates an aqueduct that leads to the barrel. A very leaky aqueduct, but the amount of water coming down outside makes it pretty much a non issue as the barrel quickly starts filling up, and then even overflowing.

Gearing hovers around a bit as he takes in the sight and then points off to the side as he says, “Okay, it should be ready.”

She tilts her head, then walks around to the other side of the giant fire pit in the center of the atrium to find a large metal cooler suspended in the air by a table that has been upended lengthwise. And, as she’s watching, water comes out of the copper pipe, steaming hot, and starts pouring into the cooler. But, given the cooler has a ton of holes in the bottom, it quickly leaks out the bottom of it in various streams.

Her eyes go wide and she starts running over to look at it closer as she asks, “Did you seriously just make an indoor hot shower?!”

Gearing shrugs as he looks over at her. “The water gets heated as it goes through the pipe, and it should be about right by time it comes out this side.”

She starts walking towards the water streams but Gearing grabs her by the shoulder and holds her in place with a fetlock as he says, “Hold on, give it a minute… The pipes were pretty hot; give them a moment to cool down first.”

She looks over and gives a frown of disappointment as she worries about letting the water get too cold. After a few more moments he lets go and she reaches over to gingerly test it with a hoof. It’s so hot it’s barely tolerable, but after a few moments she starts adjusting to it and finally jumps in with her other clothes on as she just stands under the hot stream and giggles incessantly as she turns her muzzle up towards the oncoming stream. “Water! Hot water! Oh sweet Celestia, thank you!”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he says bitterly, “Figures, I do the work and she gets the credit…”

Dandy looks over at him with her eyes closed as she grins through pouring the streams. “Awww, don’t be that way. It feels great! Besides, it’s just an expression.”

Gearing pushes over another table, uprighting it to make a slight ‘L’ shaped screen with the two tables as he says, “Uh huh… just like the ‘having first born’ bit, huh?”

Her eyes zip open, despite the hot water pouring down onto her head, as she shakes a hoof at him. “It was! Don’t make me shoot you!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and walks away, and a moment later Dandy quickly throws off all of her clothes and hangs them up in the shower as she takes the first priority of scrubbing herself clean. She lets out moans of pleasure as the steam keeps rising up around her as she uses a bit of wire mesh as a comb and starts brushing out her hide, mane, and tail of all of the debris she’s recently collected. With the crispy burnt pieces at the end of her tail simply snapping away from the action alone. As she’s looking around on the ground while using the metal mesh to get bits of gunk out of her tail, she notices a bristly dish brush on the ground at her hooves, and gleefully scoops it up with her levitation field and begins using it to give herself a thorough brush down.

She’s so busy enjoying herself she doesn’t notice her clothes disappearing around the screens one by one as she slowly spins in place under the steaming stream. Eventually she brushes her mane out of the way with a hoof, and glances over to where her shirt had just been, only to find the space empty. She looks down and around on the floor to see where it had fallen, but then glances up as Gearing’s head pokes around the corner of the improvised partition.

“Hey, is that brush I gave ya good enough or do you need something a bit more stiff?”

Her eyes go wide as she magically reaches for her pistols, but nothing comes up. Except the dish brush. A dish brush that she raises in the air with her magic, puts it to Gearing’s head, and she screams as she waves her forehooves at him feebly, “What are you doing don’t get fresh I’ll shoot you!” She keeps poking him in the side of the head with the dish brush as he slowly narrows his eyes at her.

He pulls back to the other side of the screen as he says, “It’s just a shower, what’s the big deal? You mean you never just trot out with your mark out?”

“Well, that’s- that’s different! A shower’s a deeply personal private thing! You shouldn’t be peeping on a mare in the shower!”

Gearing lets out a long groan as he says, “Oh well damn it. If you’d gotten that excited about the shower, and were intending on clopping in there, you could have just said something about wanting some privacy in advance… Anyway, I’ve cleaned your clothes in that big cooking pot they had, and they’re hanging up to dry now.”

She blushes straight to her hooves as she peeks around the divider at him and yells, “I wasn’t doing anything like that! How are you going to accuse me of something like that?! We just met!”

He looks over at her as he’s straightening out her dripping wet jacket over a rack not far from the fires. “You’re the one that got all embarrassed about being seen in the shower. I figured you had a reason for it.”

She closes her eyes and looks off to the side as she says obstinately, “Well being seen in the shower’s an embarrassing thing when you’re not expecting it.”

He shakes his head as he rolls his eyes. “So it’s fine if you’re expecting someone to see you in the shower?”

She flushes more as she squirms. “Well… not really…” She looks over at him and scowls as she pokes him in the side of the head with the dish brush again. “You saying you don’t have a problem with somepony peeking on you in the shower?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he says flatly, “No… Not actually... Why?”

Her eyes go wide before she decides to call his bluff. “Uh huh… Yeah right… Prove it then!” Gearing shrugs as he grabs a long-handled metal-bristled grill cleaning brush with a wing and starts walking towards her. Dandy’s eyes go wide and she starts stepping back behind the divider as she stutters, “Wh- what are you doing?!”

Gearing trots around, looks her right in the eye, and holds up the steel bristled wooden brush as he says, “Proving a point… And I really need a shower anyway.” He spins around and sits down with his back to her, and under the edge of the steaming water, as he says, “I don’t know how long this is going to hold up, but I really need to scrub some of this crap off of me. So if you’re bothered by being seen I’ll keep my face pointed this way.”

She recoils, and watches him slowly start scrubbing himself with the metal bristly brush. And with each stroke more of the blackened material comes off of him, revealing the golden brassy color underneath. She stares mesmerized for a bit as her eyes slowly travel down the length of his back. After realizing she’s been staring at his rear for longer than would be socially acceptable she flushes harder and turns sideways as she continues washing herself off. “So… What’s with the color change? Why are you so shiny?”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he trails the bristly brush over his body and says, “Well, my actual hide is brass… I gave myself a chemical treatment to try and darken it so I didn’t stick out so much.”

“Because your skin’s gone and your implant’s not around to replace it?” she asks as she looks sideways at him.

Gearing nods. “Yeah. Which really sucks. It’s hard to sneak around when you fucking glow like a freshly minted bit.”

Dandy looks down as she sighs, “Yeah… I bet…” She looks him over a bit more before she steps closer to him and asks, “So… I just- I don’t know…”

He tilts his head to aim an ear at her but keeps his eyes pointed out beyond and not at her. “What is it?”

She looks him over a bit more then asks, “Well... it’s just that you were so hot paper was igniting just by touching you…”

“Yeah…?”

She leans over and actually does draw his eyes’ focus on her as he feels her interrupt the water flow along his wings and back. “If that’s the case… Your original organic parts should have cooked, shouldn’t they?” She looks him over as she asks, “How’re you still alive?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and drops his gaze down toward the ground as he says, “I don’t have any organic components to burn,” and then looks up and locks eyes with her before he frowns pointedly.

Her eyes go wide as she recoils slightly, then, ever so slowly, she reaches out with a forehoof and rubs it over his shoulder. “So… you’re entirely inorganic now?”

Gearing looks her over then leans in as he says softly, “Not a splinter of bone, a drop of blood, nor a bit of flesh. Entirely inorganic.”

She slowly sits down as she looks him over. “Damn… I knew the war was rough… but…” She shakes her head. “Damn.” She looks him over slowly before she says softly, “I’m sorry.”

Gearing gives her the faintest of smiles as he says, “I wish I could say it could be worse, but I can’t honestly say that with a straight face… so… thank you.”

She leans over and wraps a foreleg around his shoulder, laying her head up against him in a soft hug as she asks, “Is there anything anyone can do?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Not as far as I know. And trust me, they’ve tried.”

She pulls back and smiles as she looks him over. “Well… you’ve certainly had an interesting life.”

He chuckles as he looks away. “Tell me about it.” He looks over to the side, where a magical glow envelopes the metal brush he was using. He lets it go as he feels a tug on it then looks and follows it with his eyes as it hovers over and behind him.

Dandy gives him a slight smile as she says, “There’s areas back here you just can’t possibly get… Here, let me help.” The brush starts gently rubbing across his back and sides.

Gearing smirks, then stands up and fans out his wings limply as he says, “You can apply a bit more force to it… Don’t worry, you’re not going to hurt me and it’s going to take a bit of oomph to get this burnt up crap off me anyway.”

She nods and complies, and, after achieving the right pressure to actually start removing the blackened coating, she asks, “So what is this stuff anyway? It’s not just burnt blood, and you didn’t have your skin… so?”

Gearing stands up straight and at attention, not moving as she works the bristles over his body with her magic. “The fire was intense enough it burnt the outer surface layers of my body straight off. Combination of ablation or sublimation. Whatever you want to call it. What you’re scrubbing off is the carbonization from the leftover residue. It would flake off eventually with use, but I’m going to need to get rid of it to make sure nothing builds up and jams anything.”

She works up and down his side with the bristly brush, eventually picking up the wire mesh she’d used earlier on herself, with its prodding wires, and using it to start combing bits of debris from Gearing’s mane. “That’s a rather unique problem to have.”

“Don’t have to tell me about it.” She giggles as she bobs her head. A moment later he asks, “So what got you into the whole bounty hunting thing?”

Dandy lets out a sigh as she asks, “Is this the point where we swap tragic backstories?”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at her and smirks as he waves his wing at her. “Well I’m a metal pegasus that has to worry about soot jamming up his movement… Sooo, I think we’re already halfway there?”

She chuckles as she shakes her head. After she takes in a deep breath as she says softly, “Not a whole lot to tell. My parents were traders. Ran a small farm down near the badlands… Raiders came again and again, and took what they wanted. And killed anypony that tried to stop them. My parents just drew the short straw the day they felt like they needed to make an example of somepony. Shot them dead in the street to make sure nopony would resist them.”

Gearing shakes his head as he asks, “And… did anyone?”

She nickers off to the side and scowls at him. “Are you kidding me? Everypony was even more scared after that; they got exactly what they wanted! Everypony was too chicken shit to do anything while they bled the community dry.”

Gearing frowns as he looks down. “I’m sorry bout that.”

She nods as she starts working on his other side. “Me too…” She gives his side a slight nudge with a hoof as she says with a smile, “Really coulda used somepony like you back then. Seeing how you dealt with these assholes.”

Gearing nods as he closes his eyes and looks down. “Yeah… I know,” he says softly as he sighs.

She pauses brushing him before she taps him on the top of the head a few times with the brush. “Hey. I don’t know why you’re looking like it’s your fault… I meant it, it would have been nice to have somepony like you there, but we didn’t.” She taps him on the head a few more times as she adds, “But you’re here, and you’re doing good here. So don’t you dare go feeling guilty cuz you can’t be everywhere at once… You’re just one pony dammit!”

The little blue pegasus in his head hovers with his forehooves pressed to his muzzle, with his eyes the size of trash can lids and ultra sparkly, as he squeaks, She called me a pony…

Gearing looks up at her for a few moments and an easy smile appears across his muzzle as he says softly, “Thanks.”

She flushes and quickly redirects her eyes elsewhere as she says, “Ye- yeah… Well… Anyway, I got out of there, ran into a group of bounty hunters, and helped them track down the ones they were after. Which just so happened to be the same gang that had been harassing our community to death.” She shrugs. “After they were taken care of I joined the company and started a career as a bounty hunter.”

“Your way of getting back at those that killed your parents?”

Dandy bobs her head around and smiles sheepishly. “Maybe a bit… But it’s good money. And, I’m doing some real good out here too. All while making a living.” She grins. “Did I mention how good the money is?”

He starts chuckling as he says, “Yeah, I think you might have mentioned that once a while ago.”

She looks off to the side as she lets her magic work on scrubbing him, entirely going by feel with a leading edge of magic guiding the way as it travels along back to his haunches and flanks. “So, yeah. I learned how to find the good contracts, the ones that aren’t be ess, and how to go about doing it from a professional’s standpoint.”

“Uhm...”

She waves a hoof around as she says, “That way we don’t have to worry about double crosses.”

“Uhhh…”

She nods as she says, “Yeah, and ya can sleep at night too… Not having to worry about having done something we shouldn’t have.”

“Ummm…”

“You know… you’re a pretty good listener and… and…” She scrunches up her muzzle one way, and then the other as she rotates her eyes around in their sockets and tries to mentally picture what she’s feeling through the feedback of her magic. “That… that doesn’t feel like normal armor… plating...”

She slowly turns her head to look down under his rump where her magical aura is highlighting a very unexpected find. Her eyes grow to their widest before she slowly looks up, mouth agape, and meets Gearing’s gaze.

Gearing, with a rather amused smirk on his face, asks, “So… pardon me for being fresh… but am I going to have to pay extra for this service, or is it part of the package deal?”

The flush starts off at Dandy’s cheeks and starts traveling down her neck as she asks, “A-a… you- You’re… A-anatomic… A-”

He gives her a wink as he says, “Yeah, I’m one hundred percent functioning stallion… in case you couldn’t tell.”

In short order the flushing jumps straight to her hooves as she stares at him with her mouth agape. But her magic doesn’t weaken, strengthen, or even move at all as it stays in the exact same scandalous position.

Gearing smirks and turns his head to look back straight ahead as he grins. He coughs into a hoof as he asks, “So… yeah... about that… honest job… stuff…”

Her eyes travel down from where she’d seen his eyes, to his flank, as she tries to sort out exactly what she was just talking about. The thought patterns only get scattered even more as he gives his rear a little shake and looks back at her as he asks, “Sorry, do you need a minute to reboot, or did that break your brain entirely?”

She recoils a bit as she entirely shuts down her magic aura, through lost focus, making the bristly brush fall to the ground as she stares at his eyes. “Oh god, I’m sorry!” She puts her hooves to her cheeks as she closes her eyes and squeaks, “And I just kept holding on! Even after you said something. Even after I noticed I couldn’t let go! Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns around and faces her. She opens her eyes slowly and flushes even harder as she says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to grope you like that…”

He sits down close to her and leans in as he asks, “Dandy, level with me…?”

She looks him over and bites her lip as she nods, “Uh huh…?”

He narrows his eyes as he asks, “Are you in cycle?”

Her eyes go wide and her cream colored fur practically turns hot rod red as she bops him on the head repeatedly with both brushes, pointing one against his head like it’s a pistol and bopping him with the other like the shower brush it looks like. “Oh my god! Why would you say something like that?! Don’t get fresh! That’s a massive invasion of privacy. You can’t just start going around asking mares if they’re in heat. That’s not proper! That’s not done!”

“That’s not a straight answer,” Gearing says flatly while getting bopped on the top of the head by the long handled wooden brush.

She covers her face with her forehooves as she groans. “Oh god… Why would you have to say something like that?”

Gearing leans in more as he says softly, “Cuz every time we’ve had any real contact, regardless of intent, you’ve gotten all kinds of fidgety…” He looks off to the side and smirks, “And then there was the glow job…”

“Oh god…”

He leans in and whispers in her ear with a smirk, “And not even the shower is covering up the pheromones your bombarding me with.” He gives her mane a light sniff for emphasis before he says, “You’ve been getting worse by the minute, especially since I got in the shower.”

“Oh god shut up!” she screams as she brings the brush down and breaks the brush head off of its long wooden handle over his head. Her eyes go wide and she instantly hops up as she grabs hold of his head with her forehooves to look at the damage as she screams, “Oh god, I’m sorry! Are you okay?!”

Gearing nods as he reaches up and pulls her down with a hug of his wings before he looks her eye to eye. “Yes, I’m fine. But are you?”

She covers her face with her hooves as she moans. “Oh god…” She sits there in the still steaming shower for a few moments before she admits, “I think so… yeah.”

Gearing looks around where they are and asks with a sigh, “Why the hell would you want to come here in that kind of condition?”

She pulls a hoof back and looks at him as she asks softly, “Honestly?” He nods so she continues, “I think it’s one of the reasons I did…”

His eyes go wide and she waves her hooves around defensively. “I don’t mean I wanted to get raped! I mean that you can’t talk about Cookie and his crew without his sexcapades being brought up. And that just leads to one thought after another and quickly your mind’s just thinking of sex every other thought and who it is isn’t the point but it’s just the sex talk aspect and that starts making things that really aren’t, seem like a good fucking idea, when they fucking aren’t, and… god damn it there I go again!” she blurts out in a ramble.

She reaches up and starts tapping on the sides of her head as she says, “Stop thinking of dicks, stop thinking of dicks… stop thinking … of… dicks…” She slows down and keeps her hooves on her head as she’s looking down at the ground, at his hooves. But not really looking at his hooves as she’s temporarily lost in her mind space.

“And that’s the reason you’ve been getting all fidgety around me? Despite the fact I look like a damn golden pony?” Gearing asks without drawing attention to where she’s currently focused on while biting her lip.

She blinks a few times before she looks up into his eyes and lets out a soft moan, “Yeah…” She shakes her head a bit and says as she makes herself look in a different direction. “I mean… It’s gotta be the damn hormones… but I know how strong you are, and you’re obviously tough, so maybe that’s got something to do with that…” She bobs her head around as she says, “And you’re nice… and you try to protect ponies… like Security…” She looks up at him with just her eyes as she says softly, “Like you protected me, and got burnt… while you stood over me and took the blast. Which musta been hard on you. Real hard.” Her eyes go wide as she brings her forehooves around and holds onto her muzzle. “Oh god it was right in front of my face that whole time and I was too busy trying not to piss myself to really notice.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he says, “I think, given the situation, self preservation trumping a desire to rut is a perfectly normal train of thought.”

She covers her face as she groans. “Stupid bullshit hormones! I’m fine, even around really cute ponies, any other time. But as soon as Auntie Cycle comes around the hormones come charging in and my body just starts throwing a party and beggin’ for a preggin’…” She waves her hooves around and scowls as she says, “At this rate I’m going to jump the first buck I see, and end up pregnant, and I don’t know what the hell I would do with a kid at this point in my life! The wasteland’s got a loooong way to go before I’d feel comfortable with doing that!”

Gearing looks her over as he asks, “Well, if you don’t trust yourself, what do you normally do?”

“Honestly?”

He nods.

“I either lock myself up somewhere for a while and just… take matters into my own hooves…” She taps her forehooves together as her pelt has another wave of flushing wash over it. “Or I visit a brothel and have the fillies keep me too exhausted to go buck chasing…” She sheepishly smiles as she says, “When they realize what’s up, they usually are even nice enough to give me a discount…”

Gearing looks around as he rubs a hoof on his muzzle. “Damn… and I don’t know anywhere where you could hole up or …” He smirks. “Tender some recompense for some tender recompense.” His grin just gets even wider as the cream mare with the black mane practically turns into a bonfire from the heated full body blush. He shakes his head as he says, “So… just gotta find something to… scratch the itch.”

“Gearing?” she asks softly.

Gearing tilts his head and looks down at her. “Yeah?”

She leans in close to him, grabs him with a forehoof, and starts poking him in the side of the head with the dish brush as she has an absolutely embarrassed and mortified expression across her face. “I- I- I’m not asking because I like you like that or anything, Understand! So don’t get fresh! But… I’m dying here. I’m losing my mind…” She slowly hangs her head before she tilts it and looks up at him with just her eyes as she asks, “Could… could you help me? Please?”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he steps back. “Whoa, wait, you mean you want me…?”

“I don’t want you I just want your dick!” she blurts out as she looks up at him straight in the eye. After a moment of what she’d said actually sinking in she flops back onto her rear and moans. “Oh god…” She throws her forehooves around wildly as she starts yelling, “Okay. Fine! Alright! I want you to give me a sweet gentle plowing full of love and tenderness and… Oh, hell, who the fuck am I kidding here?! I want you to spin me around, grab my hips and ride my ass into the sunset! I wanna do bad things to you. Like so bad and dirty that others will need to go to confession just for standing next to me! I want a piston pounding! I want your hot rod! Grind some corn. Make some butter with my tail. I want you to be the meat in my taco! I want you to be my summer sausage! I want you to take a ride below the crupper! I want you to send your little soldier cave exploring down under! I want you to shove your dick so far up my ass that it’s literally on my mind! And I don’t mean asshole. I mean my overly-hot, stupidly-wet, beggin’-for-a-preggn’ pussy! Okay?! Is that blunt enough?!” She hops up, spins around, and points back with a forehoof as she says, “Your dick, right there! Right now!”

He takes a step back as he asks, “Uhh… Didn’t you just say you’re worried about getting pregnant though?”

Her eyes go wide as she starts crying, which begins with a few frustrated sniffles. “Oh god… You’re right… See?! I can’t think straight!” She sits down and covers her face with her hooves as she moans, “Oh god I need a buck soooo bad…” She sniffles as she looks up at him. “But I really don’t want to get pregnant… I can’t go back to Megamart like this, or anywhere else there’s any bucks… I don’t trust myself… At this point changing my name to Queenie and letting Cookie have his way with me seems like a good fucking idea!” Her eyes start slowly growing bigger as she pulls her hooves away from her face as her ears perk up at a sudden thought.

She rolls over, smiling at Gearing, as she slowly starts walking towards him with a sly smile across her muzzle and a swish of her hips. “Hey… Gearing…?”

He looks around as he tries to figure out what to do and asks offhandedly,” Yeah, Dandy?”

She strolls right up to him and gets face to face with him as she grins. “You’d said…” She looks him over slowly as she bites her lip. “That… you don’t have... any organics left… right?” She leans up and gets muzzle to muzzle with him again as she grins. “But you’d said you were a 100% functioning stallion… right?”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head flies around swinging klaxons and hitting alarm switches as it screams, Oh shit she paid attention! This is what we get for cracking jokes and teasing! Warning! Warning! Warning! The jig is up!

She leans in closer as she asks softly, “That means… you can’t get me pregnant… right?”

Gearing rapidly looks around as his ears fold back. “Well… well no… Not actually.” He lets out a long sigh of resignation as he stops pulling away from her and nods. “Yeah… I’m only shooting blanks.”

She nuzzles his muzzle with hers as she asks,” But you … can… ‘shoot’… right?”

Gearing looks her over as he asks, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Dandy looks him in the eyes and says flatly, “I’m so far out of my mind with an absolute need right now if it’s not taken care of quickly I might end up turning tricks in Flank for free.” Her eyes pop open to their widest as she realizes what just came out of her mouth. She reaches up with a forehoof, mentally pushing herself away from him, as she says, “I’m sorry.” She pulls back and looks over at the ground as she starts stomping her hooves on the floor’s stonework as she grits her teeth. “Dammit it, Dandy, get a hold of yourself! It doesn’t matter if he’s a strong buck with a cute bubble butt, you can’t expect him to do something so fucked up!” She stomps her hooves a few more times, hard, hard enough that she chips one as she screams in frustration, “You can take care of yourself, you don’t need nopony else!”

Gearing wraps a wing out, and encompasses her in it, pulling her into a hug as he asks softly, “Dandy, if you really need help keeping yourself from doing something stupid, I’ll do what I can… okay?” She turns around and looks at him as her lower lip quivers and her jaw shakes. He gently runs a hoof across her cheek as he says softly, “I’m not going to take advantage of a desperate mare. I’m not like that… But if you truly want my help, I’ll do what I can.”

She spins around and looks him in the face. “You won’t get mad at me? You promise?” She starts rubbing a forehoof along his chest as she asks, “You mean it?”

Gearing gives her an easy smile as he says, “If you promise not to get mad at me… sure.”

She hops closer, rubbing her forehooves along his sides as she wraps his middle in a hug and squeals in delight, “Deal!” She starts slowly running her hooves in circles over his body before she says sheepishly, “Uh… ummm… there’s just one thing…” She pulls back and looks up at him with a crooked smile. “How… How do we… I mean… you’re...”

Gearing snickers as he says, “Pretty much like anyone else… I’m a buck after all.”

Dandy tilts her head and a mischievous smile crosses her muzzle as her horn starts to glow and she asks, “Is that so?”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he feels her magical manipulations. Again. He lets out a chuckle and pulls her in closer as he says, “Uh… yeah… and that’s a valid way to get started.”

* * *

As Dandy is comfortably sleeping off the rigors of her latest discovery, Gearing goes around the plaza and the primary building gathering what he can from the gang’s stash piles and corpses. Most of what was on the bodies of those that were killed is useless, as it all had extreme thermal damage if not entirely burnt up in the napalm.

He started off in the plaza, though entirely ignored the building being used as Cookie’s gang’s garbage dump. Whatever is in there isn’t worth the hassle in his opinion, and he’s not interested in straying too far from the main building while Dandy sleeps curled up near one of the fires. He works from the furthest point in, towards the main door, as he carries one salvaged bit after another. Though his first acquisition was grabbing his equipment out of the trash can he’d stashed it in, and gearing up again. Although he quickly took the cloak back inside and covered Dandy up with it before it really got wet in the steady rain. Even though the amount of water that is coming down has slacked off tremendously versus the torrential downpour it was earlier, it’s still enough to be annoying. But at least it’s helping to wash away the various burnt materials.

Cookie proved to be particularly problematic to gather from. His armor had gotten so hot, that it had cooked and fused to his skin. So, when Gearing was pulling it off, large pieces of blackened and bloody stringy bits held on to it as he disrobed the corpse of the sadistic chef. He groans as he uncovers the one side of Cookie and notices that, as with most of this entire side of Cookie, Cookie’s right flank, right where his mark would be, has been burnt beyond recognition and now seems to have more in common with a burnt pudding than a pony’s flank. His face has likewise been scorched beyond belief. Given that Gearing had a good portion of Cookie’s face adhered to his chest when he’d walked into the building, blackened and practically burnt to pure carbon, it wasn’t exactly a surprising find. Still, he uses a tire iron that’s had a bit of metal attached to it to make some kind of axe, and lops off Cookie’s head once the armor’s out of the way. He’s not sure how well the identification will work with this, but it’s better than nothing. He rolls Cookie over, onto his other side, and pulls off the rest of the armor from him. And that’s when he makes a bit of a delightful discovery. This side of Cookie isn’t nearly as burnt, as it was the side facing the ground when the explosion went off, But, still, the armor is metal and was so conductive that it still burnt and scorched most of this side as well. Practically cooking him in his own armor, well after the fires had burnt out.

Using the improvised axe, he scrapes the inside of the armor, carefully trying to separate enough hide from the armor to at least see his mark. After getting the armor away, and partially skinning Cookie’s haunch in the process, Gearing is greeted by an interesting picture. Apparently Cookie’s mark had something to do with a frying pan, and flipping something in the air. Whether it was a cooked egg, or pancake, Gearing can’t tell. A good portion of it has been charred and burnt off. But, even so, Gearing cuts off that piece of hide, and a large area around it, as he hopes that’s going to be good enough for identification.

It’s certainly not about the money for Gearing. But the reputation bump from such an act of goodwill could be valuable beyond measure later down the road. So he has to make sure to do this right.

Cookie’s flamer had been severely damaged, and its storage tank had literally exploded, but Gearing’s sure with a bit of work it could be brought back to functioning again. Meaning someone might buy it. So he starts piling up the various goods in the plaza under the large staircase: armor, weapons, random salvage, and whatever food or drink is still in their packaging.

Off of the atrium, he finds a small cafeteria that, at one time, probably served quick grab-and-go meals for the workers of the office building and their visitors. But, the seating areas have all been filled up with a variety of junk. And not even anything Gearing would want to take. But it quickly becomes clear that these were put here intentionally, not simply cast off. A large sign written in green paint on a plywood board declares:

‘Cooks only, no sitting.

Keep your nasty ass out of my kitchen or end up on the menu!’

Gearing continues back, around the counter, and into the back room lit with small lights. He has to stop at the door and blink a few times in surprise at what he’s uncovered.

The kitchen looks to be in damn near pristine shape. Clean beyond anything he’s seen since leaving Stable 68. Granted, the room and equipment shows signs of their age and wear. Bits of rust here and there. Places where paint had peeled off or started peeling. But, it’s been well maintained. Any places that started to peel, the paint was scraped off and discarded. Along the one wall is a station where various vegetables were chopped and diced. And, while all of the appliances are turned off, there’s still a variety of food in the various pots. And, as much as he’d hate to admit it, the smell does strike him as something that would be rather pleasant from his understanding.

He walks around in the kitchen, looking in one pot after another, and in the oven, as he expects, at any moment, to see another atrocity. Maybe a ‘cock stock’ like he’d found in that freezer in 68, given how sex minded Cookie was. But, no. Gearing looks over the shelves and finds an old green notebook with many pages and loose leaf paper hanging out. He gingerly grabs it and reads the front cover.

‘Cookie’s

Touch this and DIE!’

Gearing chuckles as he says, “Eventually… We all do sometime, some just sooner than others… eh, Cookie?” He starts flipping through the pages and his eyes go wide as he sees one recipe after another. The notebook, it seems, is Cookie’s personal recipe book. And while most others that he’d remembered would have been hard bound books mass produced, this was all hoof written. Except where he’d included clippings from magazines and such with recipes that he’d found. But, on pages with the clippings were additional notes on how he’d made changes to them. And especially substitutions he’d made that made the dish work, with whatever ingredients were currently available. Gearing flips through it until he finds a very old page, probably from an older notebook, that’s been folded, unfolded, and refolded so many times that it’s starting to tear. Maybe he’d simply kept it in a pocket and kept it with him, but its overuse marks it as very important and long lived. Despite what the wasteland’s best efforts may have wished otherwise.

Gearing trails his eyes over it, tilting the paper as he tries to read it, and eventually he does get the faded pencil mouth scribble in just the right light.

‘Cookie’s Cassierole Surprise!’

Pinkie Pie Announcement!

Is all this food talk making you Hungrywungry? Here’s an easy to follow recipe from Quillsy for your own scrummy casserole!

Quilly’s rendition of Cookie’s Cassierole

Now back to the party!

Gearing scrunches his mouth to the side as he sours at the thought of it. He starts going down the list reading everything and, on some level, expecting there to be something screwed up in the ingredient list. Foal? Eyes? Testicles? Ovaries? Maybe a couple ‘shots’ of his ‘buck sauce’? Or some other equally, or worse, crimes against cuisine.

Instead he’s pleasantly surprised.

The ingredient list is rather short, and to the point. And even he can tell it wouldn’t be all that hard to gather everything needed, even in the wastelands of Equestria. The hardest thing he can think of to get is the heavy cream. He slowly lifts his head as he realizes the entire reason Cookie’s been so adamant about keeping the brahmin safe, secure, and away from everyone else. A hunch that just seems to get confirmed when he finds out the secret meaty ingredient is neither equine nor bovine in origin.

It’s cram.

Plain old cram from a can that has been diced and pan seared to keep its shape and bring out a caramelized flavor. Though there is a note about substituting Radhog meat if it’s available and how to change the spices to compliment the sweeter meat flavor.

But his surprise is tempered a bit by the next couple pages that tote on about the correct and explicit ways that the next recipe has to be cooked to bring out the most of the flavor.

‘Cookie’s Brahmin Steaks’ and ‘Cookie’s Fiendishly Delicious Stew’.

Both of which’s primary ingredient is, unsurprisingly, brahmin.

He debates on looting the rest of the kitchen area, but decides he needs to pay the area in the back where the blue chevrons were showing up on his EFS earlier. He’s hoping they don’t turn hostile when they find out what he’s done. But, if they do, he’ll just cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Gearing looks around, and realizes that the large back door of the kitchen actually leads towards the party patio area where the brahmin are being held. Whether they were put there for intentional proximity, or this is a happy coincidence, he’s not sure. Still, he kicks on his EFS real quick before he opens the door. He pauses and watches as a red bar goes running across his vision. He readies his rifle, and gets ready to step out and shoot, but as he opens the door the red bar approaches one of the blue chevrons. And in the next instant the red disappears from his EFS as a popping noise echoes out, and the familiar sound of a radroach meeting it’s end at the end of a hoof greats his ear. Along with a long bovine groan accompanied by a pair of voices.

“Eww… another one.”

“Yup… that makes three today…”

Gearing steps out, and quickly looks around. As he traces the rifle barrel side to side, the brahmin all freeze the moment he comes out of the door. They don’t move a hair as they stare at him. And, his EFS tells him that this isn’t simply them deciding to suddenly attack him. No. They’re blue. And the only reason he’s keeping it up at the moment is to find out when, if ever, they have a change of heart on it.

He looks over at the larger pen of brahmin and quickly takes in the scene. A variety of brush and plant matter piled up in a trough, made of a ceramic bathtub that they’d dragged here from somewhere, functions as their meal source it seems. The three brahmin in the pen, with all six heads looking right at him, have all had a variety of abuses applied to them. Scars mar their respective hides as he looks them over. But for the most part, aside from that, they look okay.

If you overlook the blatant terror all six sets of eyes stare at him with.

He walks over to the pen’s gate, a wagon tailgate that’s being held up with a bunch of wire, and asks, “Hey, are you all alright?”

They startle at his voice, then look among each other before the nearest one nods and says, “Uhm… Yeah… we’re fine.”

The head next to that one asks, “Who are you? I don’t recognize you?”

The first head confirms, “You’re not one of Cookie’s bucks are you?”

Gearing slowly shakes his head as he quickly looks them over, and pays careful attention to their chevron colors along the edge of his vision. “No, I’m not…”

The closest brahmin runs over to the gate and the two heads lean over the pen as they talk simultaneously.

“You gotta get out of here.”

“Don’t let them find you!”

“He’ll rape ya!”

“He’ll kill ya!”

“He’ll rape ya again!”

Gearing looks around as he asks, “Cookie?”

They all, all six heads, nod rapidly as they quickly look around. Their fear is clear, but even so they’re trying to save him from the evil they’ve fallen into.

“Where’s Queenie?” Gearing asks as he looks them over.

The closest brahmin actually shivers before the one behind them looks over towards the delivery wagon. “They’re over there… poor thing.”

Gearing nods as he starts over that way. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

The brahmin closest to the gate whispers after him, “Don’t touch them whatever you do! Getting found back here would be bad enough, but if you touch them Cookie will completely lose his shit!”

Gearing quickly runs over to the small pen next to the delivery wagon, and takes in the view now that he’s a lot closer and not simply peeking in through gaps in the sheet metal that makes up the walls around here. A brahmin is laying down on a large pile of hay or grass material, with a bonnet over each one of their heads as they curl up, seemingly asleep. Gearing reaches over and taps on the delivery wagon, causing louder than intended clanks as he calls softly after them, “Hey… Queenie?”

The brahmin startles awake. Jumping both of their heads up then looking at Gearing with their eyes already wide and pupils the size of pinpricks. Their eyes trail over him for a few moments before the left head asks softly, “You… you aren’t Cookie…?”

The head on the right says in an equally soft tone, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Gearing keeps staring at the blue chevron as he says, “Yeah… about that… I need to talk to you about Cookie.”

The heads glance at each other before the one on the right asks in the same soft tone, “What is it?”

The other head adds, “Did Cookie send you?”

Gearing looks around before he sighs and says, “Not really… but Cookie… he’s dead… I hope you understand.”

The eyes of both heads open even wider as they quickly look around. The right head stretches out as far as they can without getting up as they whisper, “Are you serious?”

Gearing nods.

The left head stretches his way and asks, “You’re not kidding are you?”

Gearing shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

They get up and walk over to the railing, looking over it and staring back at the door to the kitchen for a few moments, obviously expecting to get interrupted at any moment. But, after some time passes they look at him and the head on the left asks quietly, “Is it over? Is the nightmare over?”

The one of the right asks softly as it sniffles, “Can we go? Are we free?”

Gearing looks them over and asks quietly, “I thought… you’d be upset… Weren’t you two… you know… together?”

They look at him absolutely appalled before they reach up and knock the bonnets off of their heads. “Are you kidding me?” the right head asks.

“We didn’t have a choice!” the left head adds.

Gearing looks them over as he asks, “What do you mean? I thought you were the only one that he treated okay?”

The heads lean over the railing towards him as the one on the right says in a hiss, “We’re not the first ‘Queenie’!”

The head on the left adds, “Our name’s not even ‘Queenie’ that’s just what he calls whichever one he decided to make his personal play toy!”

The right one nods as their eyes go wide. “And… if your not good enough… you end up on the menu… Once he’s sick of you, he’s done for good… You go in there,” they nod their head towards the kitchen door, “and you never come back.”

The heard on the left says, “My name’s Earl… this is Ted.” He motions towards the head next to him.

Gearing looks them over and shakes his head. “I’m sorry that’s happened to you… How’d you all wind up here?”

Ted says, “He brings whatever brahmin he manages to steal from caravanners and traders here. He keeps us here until he’s board with us, or whatever reason, and then we get dragged in and killed. Especially if he has some kind of ‘special guest’ stop by.”

Earl nods. “Yeah… apparently he gets paid top notch for his cooking, so he always wants to make a good impression… That typically means at least one of us getting dragged off.”

Gearing looks them over as his eyes go wide. “That’s horrible!”

Ted and Earl say, in unison, “Tell me about it.”

Gearing looks over at the other three, who’ve walked over to the rail of their pen to watch the conversation, before he asks, “You guys traders?” He looks at them as he asks, “Were you part of the Finders?”

“We were,” chimes a pair of heads from the pen across the way.

Gearing looks between them as he asks, “Would you guys be willing to vouch for Cookie being killed? I went a bit overboard I think. He’s not really identifiable anymore...”

Ted and Earls eyes jump wide open as they say, “If you show me the corpse, I’ll vouch for you!”

“Me too”, “Me three”, “What they said” comes the chorus from the other brahmins.

Gearing looks over the set up of Earl and Ted’s pen, and eventually finds the correct set of latches to get the gate open. He waves them out as he starts heading over to the other one to let the other three out. “Yeah. I’ll show you…” After he’s opened up the gate for the other three he says, “After this, if you guys want, I can escort you all to Megamart. I’m sure you can pick up with another caravan or something from there.”

Ted nods rapidly as he says, “Anything to get away from here!”

“Our wagon is still here, we can even haul everything back for you,” Earl adds.

“No reason to leave anything for these horrible horrible ponies,” Ted agrees.

As soon as Gearing opens up the wide door to the kitchen, all four brahmin start running in a practical stampede. And as the last one is passing they ask, “Where’s Cookie’s body? I wanna see this for myself!”

Gearing takes flight and flies over them as they run as he points ahead with a hoof. “Right out the front door, here let me get it for you.”

As they are running around the large central fire, he simply flies up and over it, getting to the door a moment before they do. The bovines get out the double doors and start snuffing the air loudly.

“They… they’re really gone,” Ted says as he looks over at a pair of burnt corpses not far away.

“Where’s Cookie?” asks Earl.

Gearing lands at a trot by the bloodied headless body as he says, “This one. It’s pretty wrecked…”

The four brahmin trot over and crowd around the body. Snuffing and sniffing at it as they give it a thorough examination. The general consensus is that they aren’t entirely sure. They’re grateful for the assist, and if he wants them to, they’ll lie for him. But they don’t feel comfortable with saying for sure with just this. As they can’t really positively identify the body with how much of it is so burnt up and the smell from him has practically been eradicated and overpowered by the smell of burnt flesh and napalm.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

Gearing pulls out the rolled up burnt piece of hide he’d cut off of Cookie earlier, that’s wrapped up in a couple shirts turned rags, as he asks, “What about this?” He holds it up showing the cutie mark.

Again, the brahmin crowd over, snuffing and looking at it.

The response is nearly instantaneous, and is led by Earl and Ted jumping back with instinctual fright and reflex. “That’s him!” screams Earl.

Ted nods rapidly, so fast it must hurt his neck as he says, “I’d notice that brand of disgusting sweaty stank anywhere!”

The others nod in agreement as they start looking among each other. After a few moments they all look at Gearing as Ted asks, yet again, “Is it really over?”

Gearing nods as he says, “Yeah. I’m sorry you’ve been through this. But we’ll be heading out soon. I just need to load up a wagon with what we’re salvaging from their base, and enough of the corpses for proper identification.”

Ted and Earl walk over and wrap a foreleg around him, trying to pull him into a hug but instead dragging themselves closer to him, as they wrap a head over each one of his shoulders and sniffle as they cry and mumble their thanks.

Gearing reaches up and gently rubs both of their necks as he says, “Hey… I do what I can…” After they’ve separated he gives them a wide smile as he says, “Let’s hurry up so we can go.”

It doesn’t take very long for everything to be made ready, as the brahmin were extremely motivated to get on the road and put as much distance between them and this personal hell as they could. The brahmin stampede through the office building had woken up Dandy from her pleasant nap, but not really enough for her to get up and investigate what the noise was about. So she ends up being the last thing loaded up as they decide to let her sleep while they are stowing the various salvage from Cookie’s gang. One cart gets dedicated to a metal box full of cutie mark covered hide, and a couple sacks worth of heads. He’s not sure if they really have any bounties on them, but if nothing else it’ll make it pretty obvious of the number that had been eliminated.

Dandy is genuinely startled awake as Gearing tries to pick her up and carry her out to the wagon once everything else is stowed. She whips out a variety of her pistols from her nearby jacket and puts them to his head like a spiky crown as he’s picking her up with his wings. She looks around quickly and flushes as she asks, “Hey! What are you doing!?” Her eyes roam around and she bites her lip as the pistols start slowly falling out of the air as her levitation wavers. “Are… are you wanting to go again?” She stows the pistols and taps him on the side of the cheek with a hoof as she says, “Don’t get fresh… That was just a one time thing… Most likely… Probably… Possibly…” She looks around as she taps her forehooves together and giggles, “Maybe?”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head facehoofs as it groans, She’s already thinking about it…

Gearing chuckles as he starts walking and leading the way out. “Uh huh… I see that smirk… well, I got everything else loaded… how are you feeling now?”

She flushes even brighter before she grins at him. “Better… thanks…” She stifles a yawn as she says, “A bit tired still though…” She quickly starts putting her clothes and now mostly white jacket back on.

He chuckles and nods towards outside as he says, “Well, you can sleep on the wagon on the way back if you want.” She hovers his cloak back over and carefully covers him back up with it as she gives him a nod of thanks for the loan.

Dandy’s ears perk up as she quickly follows after him. “Wagons? What wagons?” She gets outside and her jaw drops as she asks, “Where’d you get all this from!?”

Each of the two wagons sitting in the plaza has a pair of brahmin hooked up to them, and they all seem antsy and ready to go. The lead brahmin looks back at her and Ted motions towards the wagon he’s pulling as he says, “All aboard. Let’s get out of here!”

Gearing trots along next to her as he says, “Call it spoils of war… Liberated ill gotten gains… Whatever… It’s stuff that Cookie and his ilk had taken from those he’s robbed and murdered.”

She hops over into the back of the lead wagon and blurts out, “Just how long had I been asleep for you to gather this horde?!”

He walks by and leans into the back of the wagon as he grins at her, “A while… And if we don’t hurry up we’re not going to get back before nightfall.” He steps back from the wagons and looks between the brahmin. “We’re heading to Megamart, you all know that way?” The various brahmin nod. “Great! So we gotta make a quick detour along the way, but it shouldn’t be a problem. So you guys get to moving and I’ll cover you from the air.”

He takes off and starts flying circles as he starts keeping an eye on his EFS and providing overwatch. From his position over the plaza, watching the wagons leave, he cues up commands on his PipBuck with the broadcaster mod attached. He taps the confirmation command and a moment later the acknowledgement flashes across his vision, along with its string of responses.

Burst transmission cycling.

‘Update-Point-Cookie’ sent.

Transmission successfully completed.

Response failure. Reason: Timed out.

Delivery status: Unknown/ Unconfirmed

“Done and done… time to move again…” Gearing mutters as he dives down and keeps an eye on the area around the pair of wagons.

Footnote: ‘Gravity Matrix’ Online. . .

Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

55 Business or Pleasure

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing’s diminutive form sits in nothing but his brassy metallic skin as he stares at Stormfront’s raven black combat medic. She’s taken position sitting in front of him on the floor of her room as she scans a book lying next to her. Though it is her personal bedroom, it’s much larger than the others. Not simply a matter of being a privilege of her higher rank, but out of necessity. A fact that becomes quite apparent when one realizes the majority of her ‘bedroom’ is filled with equipment for the arcane arts and surrounded by floor to ceiling shelves of books on various subjects. Tables and other, lower, shelves buried in books cover the majority of the floor space. With the only actual ‘bedroom’ portion of the room, or at least the part that anyone would recognize as such, being limited to the tiny footprint containing: her bed, a hooflocker, and a dresser that’s functioning as a night stand at the head of the bed.

Cross carefully peruses a book before she looks up at Gearing and says quietly, “Well, this is definitely something new… We’ll get our people in the Ministry of Arcane Sciences to get to work on something better, but I might be able to come up with a patch job until they get something more permanent.”

Tower walks over with a couple book stands held with a foreleg as he has several books balanced on his back. He sets the stands up on the floor then pops his back, deftly transferring the books neatly onto the individual stands as he asks, “What about paint of some kind?”

Gearing shakes his head slowly as he looks down at the ground and sighs. “No, I’ve tried that before… It’s good enough to cover up the shine of my hide, but it never lasts long and it won’t work at all for my eyes.”

Cross nods before she leans in and starts closely examining his eyes yet again. “Yeah, the paint’s film coating is enough to blind him… I don’t really understand how he can see at all, but he can…” She looks at Tower as she scrunches up her muzzle in one weird pose after another as if she had peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Only thing I can think of is it’s sort of like a… Scrying spell of sorts… But one that isn’t disrupted by matrix canceling spells or counter spells…” She leans in even closer as she says, “The articulation of the apertures of his eyes are so thin and intricate, it’s hard to believe they don’t jam up from powder generated from them rubbing against each other like typical mechanical wear would cause.” She blinks a few times as she asks, “That doesn’t happen, does it?”

Gearing gives a slight shake of his head before he goes back to letting her examine his eyes. “Nope. Not on its own anyway… I’ve had a few problems with sand and the like getting in me a couple times, but beyond that my body doesn’t do it on its own.”

Tower laughs richly as he looks over at Cross, “Yeah, sand has a way of getting into absolutely everything, and into places you didn’t even know you had, doesn’t it?”

Cross glances at him and smirks before looking back at Gearing. “Yeah… Okay, let’s try something, and let me know if your vision changes at all.”

“Okay.”

Cross leans in close as she slowly trails her focus over every minute fold of his eyes, and her horn starts to glow. She stares and focuses until Gearing’s eyes start to glow along with her horn. As she pulls back, and lets the spell work, she gives him a wide grin. Then it turns a bit sheepish as she looks him over. “Well?”

Gearing shrugs. “No. I can see fine. Nothing changed, that I can tell anyway, why?” He looks over at Tower as he asks, “Is there anything different?”

Tower’s eyes go wide as he points a hoof at Gearing. “Okay, that’s just fucking creepy. The hell did you do to him?!”

Gearing quickly grabs a tool tray, flips it over, and holds it up with his wings as he looks at his own reflection. And what stares back at him is definitely different from what he was before.

Cross rubs her hooves together as she says softly, “I did say it was going to require a lot of experimenting…”

Gearing looks over at her and grins as he says, “That’s fine! It’s definitely a start!”

Tower leans towards Cross as he asks, “What’d you do, and why are his eyes entirely white? Like white white? Where the hell’s his pupil? Or where the color of his eyes would be for that matter?”

Cross rubs her chin as she says, “I was trying to focus on the outer parts of his eyes, and limit it to that, but apparently they’re so interlocked that it’s probably going to take a few smaller castings and focus on one little piece at a time instead of trying to do the area.” She waves it off as she says, “It’s just a basic illusion. A cross with magically dying it, so there’s no film to block his vision.” She leans in closer as she taps the end of her muzzle with her hoof as she ponders the puzzle over. “You know… Maybe if I offset it... I could even disguise the articulation points, and make it entirely smooth…”

Gearing nods as he says, “I’ll trust ya… It’s looking good to me so far!”

Cross smirks as she comments, “So, there’s a couple film generating spells that might be able to be modified to cover up the rest of you too… Wouldn’t be too hard to add in filaments to it for simulating fur beyond that. And after that it would be a simple matter of adjusting the spell matrices to get the filament properties correct for length, thickness, and color… Although we’d have to find the right parameters to simulate the approximate feel of fur... and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, time out!” Tower yells while crossing his forelegs for a time out. “Let me get out of here before you just mind melt me with all of that arcane science stuff!” He turns and trots out as quickly as he can as he laughs heartily and says, “Good luck with that, Nitro!”

After the door to her room shuts, Cross closes her eyes as she sticks her tongue out at Tower’s back. She returns to looking at Gearing as she says, “Just to warn you, the first versions of the spell are going to have to be simple illusions. And we’ll have to sort out a renewing, regenerating, or power situation… But, yeah, I’m pretty sure we can do something that’s more passable.”

Gearing nods and grins at her as he says cheerfully, “Thanks, Cross! Just let me know what you need me to do!”

“No problem!” Cross nods as she turns to peruse a book again. “I enjoy solving a puzzle, and this one seems like a worthy one, for more than just my own curiosity…”

They sit in silence for a few more moments as she pours over the books around their hooves and on the stands that Tower had set up for them.

“Cross?” Gearing asks softly.

“Hmmm?”

“Thanks…” Gearing replies sheepishly.

She turns to look at him with a smile as she says, “I just said it’s not a problem why are you-” She stops mid sentence as she sees the pained expression on his face. “Gearing… what is it?”

He shakes his head a bit before he slowly looks up at her with just his eyes. “I don’t mean that… I mean… thanks for not asking…”

She scoots in closer as she tilts her head. “What?”

Gearing avoids looking her in the eye as he vaguely waves at himself with a hoof and says softly, “For not asking what happened…” He opens his mouth to continue, but all that comes out are ticks and a few clicks before he manages to say, “Cuz that’s what everyone always asks…” He hangs his head as he says, “And… I can’t tell them… because I don’t know…” He shakes his head violently as he says, “I can’t tell them what I am because I don’t know… I don’t know what really happened. I don’t know what I really am. And I don’t really know what anyone could have done to deserve ending up looking like this!” He hits himself in the chest with a hoof hard enough that a loud clang reverberates off the walls of the large room. He slowly looks up at her as he says, “I d” *Tick* “on’t wanna” *click* “look like this” *Tick* “this anymore…” He stretches out a hoof and gently grabs her forehoof on the floor as he begs, “Please… anything you can do…” He hangs his head as he ticks and clicks a few times before he manages to groan out, “Please, River Diamond…?”

Cross’s eyes go wide as she looks the small pegasus over. And, despite his mass, and already abnormally small stature, he seems even smaller at the moment to her. She scoots over and wraps a foreleg around him, maneuvering the pair so she can hold him to her as she buries his face in her shoulder as she leans down. “Awwww… honey… it’s alright.” She gently nuzzles him as she says, “I’ll help you as much as I can… That’s what we’re here for… helping each other… right?”

Gearing nods lightly as he rubs his face into her chest. “Yeah…”

Cross holds him and smiles as she gently rocks him. “So don’t worry, we’ll get through this… together…”

“Thanks, River…” Gearing mumbles into her shoulder. A few moments later he asks, “Cross?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, don’t tell anyone you saw me crying…”

She grins and holds him tighter as she says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t see anything…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Out of his flight suit and with his metal hide covered in a variety of fine blue hairs, an indicator of the recent experimentation he has taken part in, Gearing continues looking over a scattering of papers in front of him as he sits on the floor of Cross’s bedroom. The room seems neat and orderly, with most of her projects having been left abandoned for some time given their recent busy schedules. She lies next to him, her legs comfortably tucked in under herself as she looks at the paper in front of them with her eyelids drooping heavily.

Gearing slides a paper out of the way as he asks, “So… the distance that can be traveled… depends on the mass being teleported… not the weight of it?”

She nods lightly as she says with a mumble, “Yeah, which is why using a spell to make the item lighter first, doesn’t actually help… it-” she lazily stifles a yawn with a hoof before she mumbles out the end of her thought, “it won’t change the mass.”

Gearing looks at her and frowns as he asks, “You just got back, and you guys have been up for a while. We can pick this up in the morning.”

Cross smiles wearily and shakes her head lightly. She reaches over and gently caresses his cheek with a hoof as she turns his face to look her in the eyes as she says, “Remember, Gearing… we can’t be selfish… Business before pleasure… even if we miss a bit of sleep or it’ll make us uncomfortable.” She traces the hoof around and gently ruffles his mane as she adds, “And you have a lot you need to learn quicker than most…” She weakly lets her foreleg flop to the ground as she says while limply patting on the papers, “And the sooner you get through all of this, the sooner you can move on to moooo-” She stifles another yawn, but fails utterly and finally finishes after the exhaust of air has run its course. “oooore important things…”

She shakes her head lightly and looks down at the papers as she gently leans her head against his shoulder and neck. “It’s a function of mass and distance… not linear…”

Gearing nods lightly as he looks over the various formulas that she’d written out for him already. “Okay… so if something either weighs a lot… sorry… has a lot of mass… or is going a long distance… it’s going to require a lot of arcane energy to complete the cycle…” He stares at the paper for a moment. In silence. After not receiving an answer at all, in neither affirmative nor negative, he turns his head slightly to look at her at his side. Her breathing has slowed even further as she hangs her head over and rests it against his shoulder.

Sound asleep.

He reaches over with a wing, grabbing a cloth that had been tossed aside previously to make room on the table, and slowly dragging it to him. He very slowly, and awkwardly pulls it over himself, then feeds it up and over both of them, before pulling it around Cross’s other side. After covering her up, he returns to looking over the books around him. Every now and then he reaches over to a pile nearby and grabs the first book from the top that he finds to read. Given how they were haphazardly placed there to make room on the table recently, there’s no discernable order to it. The book on some random installment of the Code of Military Justice was an informative, if not entertaining read. The Big Book of Arcane Science was entertaining, but not really informative in his opinion, as he had no way of testing any of its theories without any kind of magic to do so with. Gearing spends the night moving as little as possible as he grabs one book after another, and peruses its contents.

As he’s meticulously looking over a diagram of a new rifle in the Ironshod Armory catalog, Cross jerks a bit and raises her head as she mumbles, “Wha… who? What’s goin’ on? I didn’ fall 'sleep on watch did I?”

Gearing reaches over and pulls the blanket closer to her as he says softly, “Nothing, River. Get some sleep… It’s my turn on watch.” After he finishes snugging the blanket to her he says with a slight smile, “… dark shield in the night, right?”

She wipes the long stream of drool from her muzzle before she rests her head back against him and yawns as she says, “And a keen blade…” She smacks her lips a few times and snuggles into his shoulder as she goes back to sleep mid sentence, “Wake me if you need anything, Geari-”

“Sure thing,” he says softly as he watches her quickly fall asleep again. After she’s apparently completely dozed off, evident by the resurfacing of a stream of drool, he adjusts the blanket around her again and fluffs his wing along her neck and head to provide more support instead of any hard pointy bits. “See ya in the morning.” He pulls the magazine closer and continues mentally manipulating the diagram in his mind’s eye as he imagines its inner workings and lets her sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The trip back to Megamart was pleasantly uneventful, and the single solitary stop along the way was only long enough for Gearing to fly into the building, and come back with the sack of loot that Dandy had hidden after they’d dispatched their ambushers. By the time they get back to Megamart, it’s getting late and the sun’s already lowering, with a few rays shooting through along that thin line between the cloud layer and the horizon. Along the way Gearing had donned the black stallion’s brown duster and is wearing it under the blanket he’s still using as a cloak. Given the chemical coating he’d applied in Megamac had been scorched off of him, he feels every extra added layer of coverage is for the best.

After they got within visual range of Megamart, and Gearing’s EFS is showing clear, except for a few individuals mingled in with the mob of bounty hunters, Gearing lands and continues the rest of the way towards the front doors on hoof. He can’t help but glancing in their direction as he debates on letting a first strike deal with the problem of the red chevrons mixed in with the blue.

See, this is why we keep that shit turned off! You can’t just preemptively kill every red bar you see! The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says as he fluffs up and ruffles his feathers. That’s illegal! You gotta wait until they shoot first or… like… do something!” It bops him on the side of the head repeatedly as it says, Turn that shit off already!

And Gearing can’t help but agree. It’s hard not to react to information you already know. To what you can plainly see. But, doing so can cause a lot of problems, not least of which is letting others around you know that you, somehow, know something you really shouldn’t have known.

So he turns it off and goes about the oblivious task of walking towards the group of security mares at the front gate of Megamart. But he can’t help himself from repeatedly glancing in the direction of the mob of bounty hunters as the events of that afternoon play out in his mind’s eye.

Alright… fine… How about this… if any one of them shoot at you, kick that shit back on and don’t stop shooting until the only red left in our line of sight is the blood stains. That sound fair? the little blue pegasus asks with a sigh as it keeps looking over in the direction of the bounty hunters and, again, expects someone to do something stupid.

Again.

But, thankfully, no one really pays attention to him, or his wagon convoy, as they are approaching Megamart on the road along with the rest of the normal hoof traffic.

As the convoy is walking up to the front gate where the Megamart’s security is working to sort through the hoof traffic, one of the mares steps out and waves the brahmin over towards them.

“Five caps per head, ten per Bessy,” she says as she does a quick headcount.

Gearing walks around from the other side of the wagons, after deciding they are close enough that anyone that was going to spring an ambush would have already done so to not risk getting Megamart’s security involved. He looks the gatekeepers over before spotting Keystone. Gearing walks up to the blue mare that’d flagged them down and nods towards where the green and brown mottle coated mare stands managing traffic, “We’ll get to settling that bit in a minute, but I need to talk to Keystone first.”

The blue mare looks him over with a frown across her muzzle and a suspicious narrowing of her eyes. She looks over to the side and waves a hoof as she yells, “Hey, Keystone, got a buck over here that needs to talk to you.

Keystone’s ears perk up as she lifts and stretches her head up over the crowd a bit before waving a hoof high in the air. “Be there in a minute!” A few minutes later she walks around and up to the blue mare as she asks, “Yeah, what’s up, who needs-“ She stops as she sees Gearing’s ratty blanket. “Oh, it’s you…” She looks around quickly then says, “Hey, those bucks from earlier were out stalking about. They took off a while ago, but they had some friends and I’m sure they were out looking for trouble. So you’re gonna wanna watch yourself.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Ah, nah, I’m not worried.”

She smirks as she asks, “What, catch them out there and knock the shit out of them?”

Gearing grins and pulls back his blanket as he asks, “Like my new jacket?”

Her eyes go wide as the smile falls off her face. “Did you seriously kill them?!”

Dandy hops out of the back of the wagon and trots over as she says, “No, I did.” She looks around and glowers at those around her as she starts sizing up the ponies around her and tries to figure out who in the crowd might be a problem.

Keystone looks over at her and points a hoof at Gearing, then at Dandy, and then swings it back and forth before she asks, “Wait… you? Why’d you do it? I mean, they had it coming, but what was your grief with them?”

Dandy walks up next to Gearing and gives her a beaming grin as she holds her head up high and says, “The bastards ambushed us, and tried to kill me and my partner… And I don’t put up with that bullshit.”

Keystone smirks as she waves the same hoof back and forth as she asks, “Partners? You two? Since when are you two a thing, Dandy?”

Dandy’s cream face instantly glows neon pink as her eyes go wide.

“Bounty hunting partners,” Gearing interrupts and redirects the conversation. “We went after a mark the Finders wanted taken care of.” He motions towards the brahmin as he says, “Apparently at least one of the brahmin works for the Finders. Survived their caravan getting attacked. The others could probably use some work too.”

Keystone looks the wagons over before she looks between the two again. “Who the hell you take down that had all this shit?”

Dandy partially closes her eyes as she grins widely and says in a soft, almost seductive, voice, “I got Cookie.”

Several conversations around the front gate come to an absolute halt as those within earshot turn to look at her.

Keystone’s eyes go wide as she looks between them. “Are you serious? You took down Cookie?! That rapist psychopath?!” She leans closer to them and asks quickly, “You got any proof?”

Gearing gives a sheepish grin as he says, “Well… yeah… About that.” He rubs a hoof over his mane through the cloak as he says, “So… I got his head… or what’s left of it… and what’s left of his mark… But… if nothing else the brahmin can verify it.”

Both of the brahmin in the lead wagon nod all of their heads rapidly.

“Oh he’s dead alright!” Earl says with a grin.

“Done and done!” Agrees Ted

The other brahmin with the lead wagon nods both heads as the one on the right says, “I saw it! He’s deader than dead!”

“Cookie got cooked!” the other head cheers.

Keystone beckons them with a forehoof as she says, “Well, let’s see it.”

Gearing lifts up his PipBuck and looks through his item sorting list. He’d wrapped both of them pretty well to keep the mess from getting anywhere, but still didn’t enjoy the thought of putting it in his bag. But, if nothing else, doing so helped him verify, to himself if no one else, that the deed had been done. He can’t help but smirk as he sees the aptly named item in his inventory.

Cookie the Cook’s mangled head.

He reaches under his cloak and pulls the sack that had been brought to the top by the sorting enchantment, and holds it out for Keystone to inspect.

She grabs it, unties the cordage holding it closed, and sticks her face over the opening to look inside. Instantly she gags and pulls her head back and away from it as she holds the sack as far away from herself as she can with a hoof. “Holy crap! Did he smell this bad while alive?!” She sets the bag down and peeks into it from a distance as she asks, “And they let him touch their food!?” She tilts and turns the head as she says, “Yesh… you did a number on him…”

Dandy leans over and looks in, then her mouth hangs agape as she turns her head to look at Gearing. “What the hell, Gearing!? What’d I say about leaving the body identifiable?!”

Gearing looks at her and frowns as he says defensively, “Well sorry! I was a little busy at the time trying to make sure he didn’t roast your ass.” He points a hoof at the bag as he says, “He did it to himself really.” Gearing heads over to the wagon, and pulls out the wrecked flamer and as he’s setting it in front of Keystone he says, “When the fuel tank ruptured the entire area turned into a fireball. So that’s why he’s a crispy critter.”

He pulls out a cloth bundle out of his saddle bag, sets it down on top of the flamer, and unrolls it. He points at the burnt scorched hide with the remnants of brown hair barely visible across its surface and the frying pan cutie mark. “Taking him down to the ground before the tank blew at least saved this much of it.”

Keystone looks between the three items as she lets out a long gush of air. “Well… we’re gonna have to talk about this to be able to confirm the whole bounty.”

“Awww dammit,” Dandy groans as she hangs her head. “All that work for nothing…”

Keystone looks up at her and shakes her head. “No, I think this’ll be enough… especially with the witnesses.”

Gearing tilts his head as he says, “Well… if you got anyone with a PipBuck…” He raises his left foreleg as he smiles and says, “Just have them drop the stinking head in their satchel and check their inventory. There’s enough there for the enchantment to properly identify it.”

Keystone bobs her head around as she says, “Hey, that might just work.”

Dandy perks up, with her ears shooting up just as quickly as the grin on her muzzle does. She looks between them before she asks, “So… what about the rest of his gang? Was there a bonus for them?”

Keystone slowly looks up from the sack as she raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Gearing grins as he nods his head under the cloak. “Yeah. We took out the whole group.” He shrugs as he says, “At least all of the ones that were at that cookout plaza… I don’t know if anyone else was out at the time doing whatever atrocity, but I got quite the pile of identification material in the back of the wagon.” He shrugs as he adds, “And no one came back while we were there, and we’d camped out for a while-”

“Waiting for the rain to die down!” Dandy blurts out as she flushes. She looks around and rubs a hoof through her black mane, causing the blue highlights to dance across the surface, as she nervously chuckles. “Don’t wanna walk in the cold rain and get everypony sick, now do we? Nope. That’d be a hoooorible idea.” She gives Keystone a wide grin as she says, “Yup, just waiting out the rain. No other reason.”

Keystone starts getting a wider grin across her muzzle as she’s quite obviously not buying that is all that happened, but finding amusement in how her own grin is making Dandy squirm and slowly grow pinker by the second.

Gearing slowly shakes his head as he turns around and heads towards the second wagon. He comes back with a pair of duffle bags and a large fibrous sack. He drops them on the ground, causing the sack to fall over and a couple heads to literally roll out as he looks over at Keystone. “So… who do we talk to about seeing if there are contracts out on any of these?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she looks up at him. “Did you fucking roast all of them?!” She rears up and starts bopping him on top of his head with her forehooves. “I told you we need them identifiable!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and doesn’t even try to shy away from the volley of, very light, blows. “If they were burnt, they did it to themselves. The only three I kinda sorta had a hoof in them becoming a crispy critter was Cookie and the two that were standing nearby when his tank exploded.” He taps on his muzzle a bit before he says softly, “And that one that tried to throw the molotov at you and I shot it out of his grip… he went up like a Hearth’s Warming log…”

She flops down on her haunches as she hangs her head. “Awww man… And here I was hoping for a big pay day!”

Keystone looks over the heads literally rolling around at her hooves and takes a tentative step back. Though, others around the area jump back and gawk in both horror and surprise at the pile of equine parts. Keystone waves with her hoof at it and says with a hiss, “Hey, cover that crap back up. You’re going to scare folks off thinking we’ve gone raider or something.”

Gearing quickly complies, kicking the wayward heads into the sacks again before bounding them up and setting them upright against each other. “Well, don’t know how else I was supposed to prove it.”

Keystone waves over to the side, away from the gate and inside but before they get to the actual shopping center section. “Just… just put them over there… we’ll take a look and I’ll have Bottlecap get you any funds you need to be paid.”

Gearing shrugs and hauls them over to the area as indicated, as everyone watches him walk upright on his hind legs with the duffels and sacks held aloft with his wings and forelegs. When he gets back he tosses ten caps to the mare that’d stopped them, and as he’s passing he says, “That’s for our entry. You’re gonna have to figure out the deal with the brahmin yourselves.”

He unhooks the brahmin from the lead wagon, and as he’s adjusting the harness to take the wagon in himself, Ted turns to him and nods his head, “Thanks again for all of the help.”

“Yeah, you’re one of the good ones for sure!” Earl agrees.

Gearing looks them over, then gives them both a gentle rub on their head with a wing each as he says, “Well you two take care, and don’t get caught by any more psychopaths, hear?”

They nod and Ted says, “We’ll also keep an ear out for anyone you might want to pay a visit to.”

Earl nods as he says, “Caravans get around, I’ll make sure to tell the leaders to keep their ears out too. It’s in everyone’s best interest that the roads are safe to travel.”

Gearing nods as he replies, “Well, you do that. And I’ll do what I can.” He waves with a hoof, then turns and starts pulling the wagon full of Cookie’s spoils.

After he’s past the outer gates Earl looks at Ted and comments, “Ya know… I don’t think he actually needed us to pull those wagons.”

“I don’t think so either…” Ted says with a nod.

As he’s pulling himself out of the harness Dandy walks up to him as she asks, “So… I guess we’re done, huh?”

Gearing bobs his head around. “For today anyway, yeah.”

She perks up and smiles as she asks, “Got more planned for tomorrow?”

“I always end up finding something to keep me busy.” Gearing bobs his head around some more. “But not any other targets to go find, no. Not yet, anyway.”

She puts a hoof to her mouth as she looks around and thinks about it. “Well…” She gives him a wry grin as she pats him on the shoulder with the back of her hoof. “If I find out anything, I’ll let you know. You know how to handle yourself.” She bobs her head around a bit before she says, “A bit of the overkill kinda buck with blowing them up, but… Gets the job done anyway… so... I’ll be happy to have you along.” She grins widely as she says, “You’re a trotting wrecking crew worth four bucks, without having to split the money so many different ways!”

He looks at her sideways and smirks. “Only four? Well, damn, looks like I need to start upping my game or something.”

She giggles and looks around before she looks at the door to the inside of Megamart, “I’m really looking forward to a nice cot and some shuteye. Today wore my ass out!”

Don’t do it! I’m warning you! the little blue buck in his head says as he gives Gearing a dirty scowl. Just because she left the door open a crack doesn’t mean you have to kick it in!

Gearing leans over and whispers in her ear as she’s still staring at the doors and fantasizing about a nice cot just for her. “Well, you’re welcome for that too.”

The little blue pegasus in his head slaps both hooves over his face before he groans, Your mouth gets us in so much trouble…

Her eyes go wide and her face turns a glowing shade of peach as he starts walking by her, grinning as he looks at her sideways. After a few moments, he lets out a sigh then turns back around to her. “Hey, Dandy?”

She trips over her tongue a bit as she’s still flushing straight to her hooves. “Y-yeah? Gearing?”

“Are you going to be okay?” He motions towards her with a hoof as he says, “You’d seemed pretty sure you couldn’t be trusted around bucks…”

She looks over at him and grins as she asks,” Honestly?” He nods. She starts turning a brighter shade of red as she hangs her head and groans. “No. Absolutely not. I Still don’t trust myself… Won’t be able to for a couple days, probably.”

He steps up to her and asks, “Are you sure about getting a cot here then?”

She looks at him and gives him a sheepish smile as she says, “I don’t really think I have much of a choice.” She rubs her head as she groans. “I just got my days off somehow. I normally know when it’s coming and it’s not so sudden like that. Like a day warning minimum.”

“Think keeping you busy will help?”

Her eyes go wide and she gets a cheesy grin on her muzzle as she looks away from him and pats on his shoulder a few times gently. Almost in soft caresses instead of pats. “D-don’t get fresh…” She glances at him for a moment before saying softly, “But… yes…”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Well, let’s find some work, and we can keep moving that way… but… in the meantime, I have a friend inside that I can introduce you to. She can help keep you from doing anything stupid.”

Dandy leans in and whispers in his ear as she has a wry smirk across her muzzle, but the boldness of it makes her flush even further, “Like you?” Gearing’s eyes go wide as he quickly looks around, earning a few giggles from Dandy as she turns and leads the way into the store. “Come along, let’s go meet these friends of yours.”

Gearing heads inside and is almost immediately set upon by Swift as she runs up to the door to greet him. She pauses a few steps away, but jumps over and grins as she says, “I wasn’t sure that was you, but it’s hard to mistake that ratty ass blanket. You just now getting back? I thought the trip wasn’t going to take so long, what have you been doing all day?”

Dandy blushes straight to her hooves as she lightly whistles, or tries too. But her mouth has gone dry and all she does is look around at random objects as she tries to avoid looking at anyone in particular.

Gearing smirks as he shakes his head. “Got caught up. Usual nonsense. But I got a cart load of supplies outside for us to barter with at least!”

“‘Usual nonsense’?” Swift stares at him and narrows her eyes as she asks, “So… did you get ambushed, shot, or blown up this time?”

Gearing looks her in the eyes then grins widely as he says, “All of the above! Plus got burnt too!”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes as she groans. She slowly pulls it down before she shrugs and giggles. “You always find the nicest places to visit, don’t you?”

“A real party animal, that’s for sure…” Gearing chuckles as he taps out a message on his PipBuck.

Swift looks him over as she says, “Well, that buck still hasn’t come back yet. The store owner’s actually getting a bit worried. Said if they aren’t back by tomorrow they’re going to probably send out a search party.” She looks around and sighs as she says, “I don’t think they were joking either…”

Gearing asks while not actually looking at her, “Any other leads?”

She shrugs as she looks around. “Nothing major. A few things here and there. Mostly random salvage. But we need some pretty specific things.” She looks over at Gearing as she says, “At least we don’t need any talismans… Word on the street is just asking about those could get ya murdered.”

Gearing nods then looks up as he says, “Well, I’m going to go check with Patches, the armory mare, and see if she’s got any leads for me on some of the equipment I’ve been asking her for.” He hits send on his PipBuck then motions with it towards Swift as her PipBuck alerts her to a new message.

She raises an eyebrow to look at him, and then lifts up her PipBuck to read what Gearing just sent her.

Gearing reaches over with a hoof and taps Dandy on the shoulder as he says, “This is Dandy. She’s a bounty hunter that’s worked locally, and a good one at that.” He nods towards Swift as he says, “Dandy, this is Swift. We’ve been traveling together for a while and stopped in up here at Megamart to pick up some supplies.”

Dandy looks over at her, and then starts trailing her eyes over Swift’s body before stopping at the powerhoof on her foreleg. “Wait… you don’t mean Iron Hoof Swift… do you?” She looks back and forth before she asks, “The Reaper?”

Swift looks up from her PipBuck screen at her and raises an eyebrow as she asks with a faint smile, “And… just where’d you hear about that from?”

Dandy looks back and forth between them a bit quicker as she points west. “I came up though Freight Cars’ territory. I asked them what happened to all of the Wild Ones and they said Iron Hoof and her friends pretty much obliterated them for getting on her bad side.”

Gearing grins at Swift as he says, “Your fame’s catching up to you.”

Swift glares at him as she says, “If you weren’t slinking around all of the time yours would have caught up to you long ago.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she stares off into space. “Wait… green wings.” Her horn glows as she lifts up the edge of Gearing’s ratty blanket and brown jacket with her magic and looks at his wing neatly tucked in against his side o.

Gearing raises an eyebrow then smirks as he pushes the improvised cloak back down with a hoof. “Hey… don’t get fresh.”

Dandy leans in closer to look him in the face as she says quietly, “Sweet Celestia, it is you!” She looks over at Swift as she says, “They said Iron Hoof was traveling with a group, including an insanely strong not-quite-black pegasus with green wings.” She turns to look at Gearing as she says, “A black pegasus that apparently could shove his hoof through an earth pony’s head with a single kick.” She arcs an eyebrow as she asks, “Sound familiar?”

Swift looks between them as she asks, “Uh… What’s with that look?”

Dandy turns to look at Swift and points outside where the mob of bounty hunters have been gathering. “Some dumb ass wanna be bounty hunter that was after Security jumped Gearing and tried to stab him. So he broke the buck’s head like a dropped melon.”

Swift looks between the two then nods. “Yeah, sounds about right…” She smirks as she asks, “What? Didn’t shoot them from the dark and a bajillion miles away where nopony saw where it came from?”

Gearing smirks then partially covers his mouth and disguises his smirk by rubbing his muzzle with a hoof as he says softly, “No... That was this morning… Different buck, different day…”

Swift sits down and starts laughing as she says, “Damn, I just can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you running off to find some kind of fun, can I?” She grins a bit longer before turning to look at Dandy. “So, you’re Dandy right?”

Dandy looks at Swift and nods as her eyes go wide. “Yeah… Iron Hoof, Ma’am…” She leans in towards Swift and asks, “Did he really kill a Reaper in like five seconds?”

Gearing quips, “Was closer to ten, and I don’t consider No Shoes a Reaper. Just a loud mouth braggart that got lucky to get as far as he did.”

Dandy looks over at Gearing and says softly, “No Shoes wasn’t a push over. He didn’t wear any gear to toughen himself up, and he did. He was known for giving as good as he got. And then some.”

Gearing looks over at her and says flatly, “Well that streak ended pretty damn quick… Shouldn’t have gone threatening foals within earshot of me, let alone to my face.”

Dandy grins then looks over at Swift and asks, “Bit of a family buck, ain’t he?”

Swift’s eyes dart over to her and she smirks before she leans in and says softly, “Okay… Yeah. Let’s go get you a place to lay down at.”

Dandy looks around quickly as she asks, “What?”

Swift nods as she says, “Gearing already let me know what’s going on. Come on. I’ll make sure to keep the bucks off ya. Move it sister, walk in front of me and don’t present posterior to any of the bucks, it’ll cause more problems than we’ll wanna deal with.”

Dandy flushes as she looks between the two then asks, “Yeah… I’m sure a Reaper could keep them off me… but…” She gives a sheepish smile. “Can you keep me off of them though?”

Swift nudges her in the side and starts pushing her towards where all of the cots are in the makeshift hotel. “Yeah, I’m sure I can… but you need to get in bed and get some rest.”

Dandy looks at her and smiles warmly, nodding as she stifles a yawn. “Yeah… you’re right. Some sleep sounds good.” She turns and starts walking away obediently.

Swift looks at her wide-eyed and says, “Wait... You’re not going to fight me over it? You’re just going to go to bed? Just like that?”

Dandy looks over her shoulder at her and smiles as she nods. “Well, yeah, been a busy day… Why?”

Swift stares at her for a few moments as she says quietly, “A filly in heat who’s more interested in getting some shuteye when they’re surrounded by bucks…” She slowly turns her head and looks at Gearing. Her eyes trail over him for a bit before she asks flatly, “Gearing, is there something else you need to be telling me?”

“Nope,” Gearing says flatly with an emotionless expression.

Swift sucks on her teeth a bit before she says, “Yeah, right… uh huh…” She points at him with her hoof a bit as she says. “We’re gonna have a talk later.”

Gearing waves at her and smiles lightly as he says, “Sure. Just let me know when.”

As Swift escorts Dandy back to the makeshift hotel, and giving any buck that pays just a bit too much attention to Dandy a case of near death by dagger eyed stare, Gearing heads off to talk to Bottlecap. There are a lot of points that they need to go over, and he wants to bring up Cookie’s bounty being in the process of being claimed as soon as possible. It’s not really about the money at this point, though that would help, but the rep it’d help him build should put him in an even bigger positive light with the Finders. Maybe even give him access to some of their harder to get goods.

Because it’s rather common knowledge among those in the know, and other swindlers, that business folk always keep the best shit for themselves, their friends, family, and their most treasured clients. And he’d like to work his way into at least one of those categories if he can. Because they are seriously well connected and that is something he desperately needs at the moment.

So, time for some good old fashioned Glorious Bastard humble bragging… minus the humble aspect of it. Gearing thinks with a grin.

Squeaky wheel gets the grease and all that, the little blue pegasus in his head comments sagely.

As he’s passing through the crowds of various individuals his eyes are drawn over to the side. In a booth hanging above everything else, is a treasure beyond compare for Gearing. He slowly walks towards the booth as his mouth hangs open and he swears he can hear angels themselves singing as he looks at the gift from above.

Wait, no, that’s just Sweetie Bell on the radio on the vender’s desk. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head observes. Angelic like enough.

Gearing steps through the crowds walking by, which most of them don’t even pay attention to the salvage heap that seems to be making a small berm around the vendor’s space. But he’s not interested in the berm of salvage anyways. Not the scrap metal. Not the electronics. Does any of that even matter when that delicious thing is being dangled in front of his snoot so seductively.

Gearing points up at the oversized picture frame with a shaking forehoof as he asks, “Hey. That. How much for that?!”

The mare on the other side of the berm of junk turns to look at him from eating a salad of some unknown composition of vegetables and what looks like might be mixed in some sugar apple bombs. She looks at his hoof, then follows the trembling limb up and to the top as she asks, “Oh… like that do you?”

Gearing steps to the side, trying to get as close as he can and lowering the linear distance between the two as he nods his head. “Is that for real!?”

She gets up and walks over, looking up at the picture frame as she nods. “Yup. It’s the real deal.”

Gearing lowers his hooves and stares in wonder as he says, “That’s one of the last ones made… is has to be. It must have came out right before the bombs dropped.”

She looks at him and smirks as she says, “You must be some kind of history nerd to know about that.” She nods as she looks up at it. “Yup. That one’s apparently the last one in the series that was ever made. Was released about a month before everything went tits up.”

Gearing waves a hoof at is as he asks, “Is it for sale? How much is it? Can I see it?”

She encompasses the picture frame in her levitation field and lowers it over to him as she grins. “Yeah... Everything in the booth’s for sale, that’s why it’s here.” She smirks as she says, “Uh… except for me… before you start getting coy.”

Gearing carefully grabs the picture frame and looks it over carefully. His eyes trail over the artwork of the comic he’d never even knew existed. “Oh... this is just amazing… How much did you want aga-” He pauses and looks in closer. “Wait a second…”

He pulls the picture frame up closer, and tilts the glass as he’s trying very hard in the provided light to see under the cover. The comic book cover is spread open and ready. Like it’s ready to be read at any moment. All you have to do is turn it over, and boom, there ya go. You’re off on a super hero adventure.

Except the staples in the center of the magazine are missing. They were there at one point. But not now. And, from how flush it is with the back paneling, he can tell the image he’s looking at, is simply the cover. Nothing more. Like someone took the cover out and framed it.

No. That would be giving it too much credit.

The frame is obviously from something much larger, and for something much larger. He flips it and looks at it’s back and sighs as he notices the two sets of wires. The older set, professionally done, and the new set, not so much professionally done but functional. Which confirms this frame isn’t even for this purpose.

He looks over at her and frowns as he asks, “This is just the cover for it, ain’t it?”

She laughs as she says, “Well yeah… who’d put the whole thing in a picture frame?”

Gearing frowns as he looks it over and sighs, “I know a few who would… Just to keep it from getting damaged… or to display the art if is was good enough.”

She frowns as she asks, “Well, ya want it or not?”

Gearing looks over at her as he asks, “Well, how much you want for this thing?”

She looks him over and notices his golden hooves holding the picture frame and looks him in the face as she grins. “100 caps.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and says, “For just the cover, not even the whole book? Seriously?”

She points at it and says defensively, “It’s in a very nice picture frame! Completely intact. Glass isn’t even cracked!”

Gearing looks at it again and at her and asks, “How much for just the picture, not the frame?”

She raises an eyebrow as she says, “You don’t want the frame?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Not at all.”

She frowns and looks around as she says, “Shit, then I’ll have to find something else to stick in there.”

Gearing chuckles as he leans over the pile of scrap around him. “Ahhh… So you just put something pretty in it, and don’t actually care about the cover.”

She looks at him and frowns as she says, “Shit… shouldn’t have opened my big fat mouth.”

Gearing taps on it as he says, “Look at it this way… You’re going to be getting paid for something you considered trash… How much you want for it?”

She scrunches up her mouth one way than the other before she says, “Twenty caps.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and replies flatly, “Isn’t that like two Sparkle Colas?”

She looks off to the side and huffs as she says, “Well then Sparkle Colas.”

Gearing pulls a Sparkle Cola out of his bag as he says, “Here, how about this?” He nods over to her dinner as he says, “To go with your meal? And you’ll have an extra cap to boot.”

She smirks and bobs her head around before telekinetically grabbing both the bottle of Sparkle Cola and the picture frame. “Here, I’ll take it out for you. So you don’t end up breaking the picture frame, since you don’t want that and aren’t paying for it.” She quickly unlatches the back, pulls out the paper, slaps another paper in it from a pile behind her, and floats the cover over to him. He carefully grabs it, folds it along the crease that it already has in the cover along the spine, and carefully puts it in the middle of Cookie’s recipe book for safekeeping before putting the whole thing back into his saddle bag.

When he turns back to thank her, he looks up as she’s hanging the picture frame up where it had been a few moments before. He tilts his head as he looks at it for a few moments.

“Oh sweet Celestia, don’t tell me you want that picture too?” She groans as she’s pocketing the cap from her freshly acquired Sparkle Cola.

Gearing shakes his head. “No… it’s just weird. I don’t remember seeing that particular cat and ball of yarn picture before… But lately I’ve been seeing the exact same thing in nearly every building I go into…”

She turns to look back at the picture as she asks, “What? Got something against kittens playing with balls of yarn? I think it’s cute…”

Gearing shrugs then shakes his head. “No. It’s just… weird… never mind.” He pats on his saddle bag. “Thanks!”

She mumbles around her bottle as she takes a drink, “Mmmhmm.” After she pulls it away and lets out a satisfied gasp of breath she waves after him and replies, “You too!”

Gearing walks around and heads towards the office, hoping to spot Bottlecap in her native environment before having to track her down all over the store. When he gets there he notices the door is open and he gives it a quick respective rap from outside as he asks, “Bottlecap? Are you in?”

A loud rumbling flush sound comes from the door to the side, and a moment later Bottlecap walks out. The two stare at each other for a moment before she casually shuts the door behind her with a hindleg. She looks at him for a moment longer before she asks, “Uh… how are you with fixing toilets?”

Gearing walks into the office and chuckles as he says, “They’re a lot easier to fix than a lot of things… Why, what’s wrong with it?”

Bottlecap looks back at the toilet and shakes her head as she says, “Nothing now. But I’m concerned with it possibly needing some maintenance soon after what Security put it through.”

Gearing looks around as his ears perk up. “Security’s here?”

Bottlecap shakes her head. “No, thank goodness.” She motions towards the bathroom door as she says, “It’s just been acting funny for the last couple days since she unleashed her noisy bowels on it.”

Gearing starts laughing as he sits down. “Sounds like an interesting time.”

She glances at him and gives him a faint smile as she says, “Quite…” She looks him over for a few moments before asking, “How may I assist you today?”

Gearing grins as he says, “I think that’s my line.” She looks at him and arcs an eyebrow, so he steps in, shuts the door behind himself and casts off the cloak as he says, “I mean… I’ve already taken care of Cookie… Who else is giving you guys guff?” Her eyes go wide and he fans his wings up in the air, directing the dim lights in the room to sparkle around himself as he grins at her. “I mean… I’m not gonna say I’m good… but we both know it… right?”

She narrows her eyes before giving them a slight roll as she starts walking towards her desk. Though she keeps glancing at the few golden brassy exposed parts of him as she makes her way to her seat. “You would have to be to take down Cookie…” She looks over at him as she asks, “I suppose you’ve brought back more than just your word on the matter to prove it?”

Gearing nods and points off towards the front of Megamart as he says, “The head and part of his cutie marked hide is at the front door with Keystone.” He taps his forehooves together as he asks, “And… was there any bonus for taking out the rest of his gang too?”

She almost falls off of her desk as she had been leaning over and opening up a desk drawer as he drops a very unexpected question on her. She straightens up and looks at him as she asks, “Come again?”

Gearing points off towards the front of the Megamart. “Well. I think I got them all. There might be some stragglers that weren’t home at the time… But there’s a couple sacks worth of heads and an entire metal crate full of cutie marks that we skinned off of his crew.” His ears perk up as he adds, “Oh, and we brought back a few brahmin from there. They’re looking for some work and hoping you could help them out. Apparently one had already been working with the Finders so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

He grins at her as he says, “I also brought another wagon full of goods to trade… so…”

Her lips crack into an amused smile as she asks, “You really are pretty efficient, aren’t you? Took out the target, then while there took out the rest of them, and, just because it might have a bit of value, you brought everything you could carry back on the way back, hmmm?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Nah. I left quite a bit of stuff there. Wasn’t worth the hassle. Not with everyone else I had to watch. And the brahmin were wanting to get away from there as fast as they possibly could.” He lets out a sigh as he looks around. “From what I gather that place was its own level of hell.”

“A ‘level of hell’ that’s now closed for business?” Bottlecap asks with a raised eyebrow.

Gearing nods. “Yup. Just as advertised.”

She taps her forehooves together as she asks, “So, what do you plan on doing now?”

He looks around the office as he says, “Well, if you have any more tasks you’d like done, I’m all ears… but I also need to go talk to Patches. I really need to get my armor finished.”

She looks him over as she sucks on her teeth. “Well… your current set is looking rather dapper… you electro plate it or something?”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumps, Great, this shit again…

“Uh… no… Was just scorched and blown up enough that it burnt all of that crap off of me,” Gearing mumbles.

She nods and points over to the door as she says, “Well, I don’t know any other armor that actually gets cleaner the more you damage it… but… Patches had been asking for you earlier. Apparently she’d found a few things that you had been wanting or that she thought you could use for… whatever it is that you’re making.”

Gearing grins at her and looks over at the door as he says, “Hey, thanks!”

“Gearing,” she says flatly, but with a tone that causes him to turn back to look at her. She taps her forehooves together slowly as she says, “I know you’ve been trying to help out Security with a few of the stunts that you’ve been pulling… but… I think you should know there’s been a lot of talk.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he gives her his undivided attention. “What kind of talk?”

She frowns as she looks him over in silence for a few seconds. “The kind that I’m sure you already knew would be coming up with what you said you were going to do…” She raises an eyebrow before saying softly, “And… doing…?”

Gearing shrugs. “Anything specific you can tell me?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. But there are more and more folks talking about maybe trying to take you down first, to make their job easier. Since you have already killed a couple bounty hunters that were after Security. There was a group trying to get the others to go in with them to go and take you down. While most don’t want to stir up more trouble than they have to, there’s quite a few of them that are actually listening to the whole thing and I think they are actually going to do it.”

Gearing looks at her and replies, “Well, I dug myself into this mess, I’ll get myself out of it.”

She taps her forehooves a bit before she asks, “You going to go back south? Maybe draw them off? It’d probably be the smart thing to do, honestly. But, I don’t think that’d work with your overall plan. It’d simply prove your lack of resolve.”

Gearing grins at her as he says, “Nah. Not my style at all.” He grins even wider as he says with his eyes closed, “I’ve been told I’m as hard headed as an earth pony.”

She smirks and taps her forehooves together before she asks, “So, what will you do?”

Gearing pulls the coat back, showing his brassy body, as he says, “Deal with it as it comes. Either they’ll give it up, or I’ll put them down. Up or down. Their choice.” He lets out a sigh as he looks over at the door to the rest of Megamart. “Frankly, I’d rather they just give it up. As nice as self-deploying sandbags and rapid ammo deliveries are, I’d really rather not have to kill anypony if I don’t have to…”

“Says the buck with a body count approaching a hundred already…” Bottlecap says flatly.

He looks over at her and, after exploring her expression for a bit, he can tell it’s not a judgmental statement. More like she was sad about it. Sad about the necessity. And, possibly, glad it wasn’t her. Or was that a slight hint of guilt across her face as if she feels at least partially responsible? It’s hard for Gearing to tell. And the mood’s gotten so sour in the room that he gets an idea to do something that not many others would probably want to attempt.

Crack an inappropriate bad joke at an inappropriate time.

He starts laughing as he shakes his head. “Bottlecap… your numbers are off… If you’d seen the full weight of the ledger I bear on my back, you’d know I crossed that bridge looooong ago.”

She taps her forehooves a bit before she asks, “And… you’re proud of that fact? Because, I’ll be honest, aside from the bravado, I don’t really believe you’re the type.”

Gearing bobs his head around as he looks around. “At one point I was proud of the job I was doing. Someone losing their life wasn’t the goal. But, things change. And suddenly sometimes someone losing their life was the goal… To save others. To protect others. To keep something bad from happening. After a bit you worry you’ve lost sight of what’s important.” He shrugs. “And you just. Don’t want to anymore. But… the world just don’t seem to want to let you catch a fucking break.”

She lets out a sigh as she shakes her head and says with a bit of consolation in her voice, “No. The world doesn’t. The wasteland least of all. But the more we work together, the better it’s going to get.”

Gearing looks over at her and nods as he says, “Exactly… and my only hope is that we get to figuring that part out before the rest of equinity gets annihilated by their own stupidity.” He grabs the blanket and throws it over himself, making the improvised cloak again. As he’s walking towards the door he says, “I’ll be in touch, Bottlecap. Let us know what you all decide about the Cookie and gang’s bounty. We’ll be in and out over the next few days as we sort some things out.” She gives a slight wave of her forehoof as Gearing quickly closes the door behind himself.

Gearing cuts around through the crowds, keeping his ears rotating this way and that as he tries to get to Patches’ vendor booth as quickly as he can, but keep an ear out for any bit of information that might be useful. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it’s a complete waste of time.

This time falls in the later category as all he seems to hear along the way is bantering, bartering, and inconsequential gossiping.

He walks up to Patches’ stall and finds that it’s still open, with her standing off to the side, leaning casually against the displays, as she looks back and forth at the passing crowds as she waits for anyone that might be interested in an armor up. Probably left simply standing there after hurting her voice trying to bark out deals all day.

“Hey, Patches,” Gearing calls as he walks up.

Her head whips over like a suddenly angry turret, abrupt enough to make him actually pause in his stride, before a massive grin explodes across her muzzle. “There you are!” She hops over and giggles as she wraps a foreleg around his neck and starts pulling him towards the booth. “Come on in. Come on in.” He politely complies and, the second she has him most of the way into the booth, she spins around and grabs his cheeks with her forehooves as she squats down and looks at him. She pushes back his cowl with her magic as she stares him in the face and practically giggles at him, “You! You are a fuckin’ artist! I don’t even understand how you did this! You… you…” They stare at each other for a few moments before she pushes his cowl up and out of the way a bit more, but she carefully makes sure not to let it fall back entirely and keeps his head covered from every angle except the one she’s viewing him from currently. “You… seem to have already gotten yourself a set of armor…” She leans in and looks at his eyes closely as she asks, “Articulated apertures?” She leans in closer, almost like she’s about to kiss him, and he narrows his eyes as he stares at her and expects an array of questions.

Oh here we fucking go, the little pegasus in his head grumps.

Her eyes shoot open to their max size. “Oh… Oh, I’m so sorry… I didn’t realize…”

Huzbawhadda now? the little blue pegasus asks in genuine confusion.

Gearing’s ears perk up as he asks, “Uh… realize what?”

She covers his face back up with the cowl, and looks around quickly to make sure she hadn’t inadvertently given away anything that she shouldn’t have. “Uhm.” She leans in as she whispers, “That that’s not armor… I haven’t seen anypony so seriously augmented before…” She looks around again and leans in closer as she says in the same low tones, “Don’t let any o’ those Steel Rangers even see you… They’ll probably want to rip you to pieces for parts…”

Gearing growls as he says, “They could try and I’ll have me some spare parts instead.”

She giggles and steps back as she nods. “I… see why you need full coverin’ armor now…” She reaches up and rubs her mane as she says sheepishly, “And here I just thought you wanted to have a bunch o’ spares or were a collector of sorts or whatever… I’m sorry.”

Gearing steps over closer and taps her on the side of the foreleg as he says, “Hey. Don’t be. You couldn’t have known. I keep my head down for a reason.”

“I can see that,” she says with a sigh. She looks around then turns behind her as she grabs the face mask portion and helmet he’d been working on. She lifts the two pieces up as she says, “But… regardless… You are a fuckin’ artist with electronics and armor.” She spins it over and rotates the fully assembled helmet in the space between them as she asks, “How did you do it? You took electronics and components from multiple companies, even competin’ companies with proprietary parts… and managed to fuse them together into one piece that is so well harmonized with itself that it’s damn near seamless!”

Gearing looks it over and gives a sheepish smile as he slowly taps his forehooves together. “Oh… well… It wasn’t all that complicated… I just made a transformer, and wound new coils around it… then used a voltage regulator from a busted toaster, and ran the power through that area before it goes to a controller so that the power flow is smooth.”

She stares at him for a moment before she asks, “You manually wound a small transformer?”

Gearing nods as he says, “Yeah… have to make sure the turns are right and all of that, but once you get the basics of it down, it’s not really all that difficult…”

She looks at it then slowly passes it over to him in her magical field as she says, “Wow… just… wow…” As he’s taking it she comments, “I’m still not entirely sure where you used the sunglasses at… I know you did, considerin’ the pieces I found, but I can’t even tell.”

Gearing sticks his head out of his cowl enough to wink at her before he says with a grin, “Technician’s secret.”

She shakes her head as she giggles and turns around. “Okay, so… I’ve managed to get hold of a few things for you that I think might work… I couldn’t get a full on bomb disposal unit’s armor, but I did find this, and I think it’ll be a pretty good base for what you’re talkin’ about… What ya think?”

She slides a metal chest out from under her table, where she normally keeps her private things, and pops the latches with her magic. And a moment later she’s pulling out a set of barding that’s olive green with an earthy tone to the thicker rigid plates that cover the entire thing. She holds it up for him to look at as he steps further into the shop.

He reaches out and starts rotating it this way and that as she holds it aloft with her magical aura. He looks at the breastplate’s right side and sees where the piece of armor has already done its job by blocking some pretty egregious wound, at least judging by the gouges and scrapes across the front of the chest portion of it. Enough to scrape at the already faded painted on lettering that states HPD RIOT with a string of numbers under it. The string of numbers makes Gearing wonder if it was a serial number assigned to a specific pony or if it was just for inventory management and to keep track of the equipment. Along the lengths of both sides the same HPD RIOT text is plainly visible, without the serial number, but Gearing wonders what the point of that would be given it would most likely get covered up with saddle bags or battle saddles anyway. The armor has a thick ridged throat guard springing up from the middle of the chest portion as it juts out and away from the neck. It probably would limit some movements, but it would be excellent for protecting the softer underside of the neck. Maybe not from direct fire, maybe so. But, never the less, it would be amazing for shrapnel and other bits of throat terrorizing debris. Across the surface of the throat guard is a faded three digit number that he can’t quite make out. The first two digits are definitely ‘10’ but the next one is either a ‘1’ a ‘C’ or an ‘8’. It’s so worn on that particular part of it, from either normal wear and tear or from direct damage, that it’s impossible for him to know for sure. But, that doesn’t really matter at the moment.

The entire thing has plates of some kind of reinforced resin over sheets of steel. The composite armor layers have aged well, despite the damage its had inflicted upon it. And, like many armors in its class meant for military or government purposes, this one is a full suit. Every part of the body is covered. Even the underbelly, which tends to get over looked because of its location, has a grid of plates designed to provide protection to vital organs, while allowing mobility. Then, on top of all of that, the fabric holding it all together is practically a suit of kevlar in and of itself. The flexibility and stretch of the fabric provides an excellent juxtaposition with the strength and rigidity of the composite plates. Combined they make an excellent combination of strength and mobility. Gearing’s pretty sure whoever designed this must have had a family member in mind when they made it because it’s almost as over engineered as Hoofington itself.

But, as amazing as it is, it’s also a bit disheartening. He knows he’s going to have to make some modifications to it. Even if it can fit his body, the age old problem of having to make sure it won’t get caught in his gears rears its ugly head again. Even more so with so much cloth being the foundation of the entire piece.

Patches claps her forehooves together rapidly as she tries to get Gearing’s attention. She grins at him and asks as she nods to it after he peels his eyes off it and to her for a moment. “So, what ya think? Think this’ll work for what you need?”

Gearing nods as he keeps turning it in the empty space between them. “This is a good start… yeah. With a few modifications it’ll do for what I need.”

She balks as she looks at him.” Modify? You want to modify it?!” She shakes it with her field as she says with a crooked grin and a snort of disbelief. “I got this because I was sure it was pretty much exactly what you needed! Put this on, the firefighter’s jacket, and that helmet you made, and boom, there ya go.”

Gearing looks over at her and a sly smile crosses his muzzle as he asks, “You saw the helmet, right?”

She nods. “Well, yeah… that got me all hot and bothered like I’d done started my cycle, I’ll tell ya.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and shakes his head before he says, “If I’m going to modify the helmet to that extent, why wouldn’t I do the same with the other pieces as well?”

Her eyes start growing wider as she sees the train of thought and all of the possibilities start prancing before her mind’s eye. “Ouuuuu. Yes…. Yes… That’s … That’s goin’ to be so much nicer.”

Gearing looks around as he asks, “Any luck with the firefighting jacket?”

She slumps her shoulders as she says, “No… Not yet… sorry.” She looks at the armor as she asks, “You goin’ to go ahead and get started on this one first?”

He bobs his head around a bit before he shakes his head. “No, I need to have the jacket that I’m going to use it with so I know where to make what modifications that it needs. No real point until then.”

Patches lets the armor flop down in front of them as she says, “Nuts… I was hopin’ I’d get to see some more o’ your fancy hoof work.”

Gearing waves towards the armor as he says, “Once I get the rest of the pieces, sure. But until then I got a few other things I need to work on.”

She tilts her head as she asks, “Do you ever sleep, buck? Like you worked on the helmet all night, then you ran off on that bounty huntin’ adventure all day, and you just got back… Doesn’t seem healthy to be runnin’ all day every day even with… well… you know.” She vaguely motions towards him and his body with a hoof as she looks around.

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I’ve been known to sleep from time to time, yeah.”

She snickers as she turns and puts the armor back in its chest and kicks it under her table again. “Well. Keep me updated if you find anythin’, and I’ll do the same. But take care of yourself. I can’t see this armor get finished if you run yourself into the ground!”

He laughs and waves as he continues down the lane and starts walking around the perimeter. He’d heard about the medical clinic, but hadn’t had a chance to stop by. Apparently it was one of the places that Swift had managed to offload her medical supplies that they didn’t need.

But there were other things he’d wanted from the buck with the saw for a cutie mark. Namely: Information.

After some talking and finagling with the older buck, Gearing walked away with a few books and medical texts that Bonesaw had. Though, for a good portion of them, Bonesaw wanted them back and Gearing had to give a substantial deposit to make sure he got his books back when he was supposed to.

Gearing heads over to the ‘hotel’ area, and quietly walks through the cots where many ponies are already fast asleep. As he’s getting in the back corner, where Dandy currently lays with her rear decidedly pointed towards the wall next to the cot, Swift bolts up in her own cot and thrusts out her powerhoof at Gearing’s face.

He looks at the powerhoof, inches from the end of his muzzle, then trails his eyes from it up her leg to her face and says quietly. “Hello to you too.”

She glares at him a moment and then says, “I thought you were another nosy nose following their snoot to trouble.”

Gearing smirks as he asks, “Have to bop many of them?”

Swift grins and shrugs. “Not really. Usually just having the powerhoof in their face is enough. But… what are you doing over here?” She raises an eyebrow then says softly, “Don’t tell me your hormones are getting the better of you too?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and spins around, sitting down next to both of them as he says, “Hardly.” He stretches out with his loaned books as he says, “I figured since I was going to be doing nothing but reading tonight, I might as well keep watch.”

Swift rolls her eyes as she says, “I don’t need you watching over me, Gearing. I can take care of myself.”

Gearing stares at her then points back towards Dandy without even looking back. “She needs all the help she can get at the moment. So, no offense, but it’s not about you all of the time.” He finishes with a slight smile so she knows it’s meant more of a joking cut instead of an intentional insult

She smirks and rolls her eyes before rolling over entirely. “Well, if you’re going to keep watch, I’m not going to lose any more sleep than I have to.” She yawns and quickly starts falling asleep again as she says, “Night, Gearing…”

Gearing is about to go through his books to figure out which ones he wants to read first, when he hears a nasally snorting half loogie hocking snore. He jumps his head up and looks around at the source. The noise draws his focus to see Handy on the other side of Swift, completely passed out, with his right foreleg flopping over the side of the cot and limply hanging down to the ground with his head turned towards them and his mouth hanging open.

Gearing shakes his head and decides to start reading up on the medical notes that Bonesaw had loaned him first as he mutters, “Didn’t realize he was such a mouth breather…”

As he’s opening up a book, Dandy asks from near his head, “Gearing?”

He turns sideways to look at her. “Yeah, Dandy?”

She partially opens her eye as she looks at the figure sitting down next to her. She reaches out with her foreleg, patting him on the shoulder a bit as she seems to test if it’s really him, then stretching out her limb as she drapes it over his shoulders after apparently being satisfied. She tugs him a bit closer as she says, “You’ve got some good friends. You’re a good buck.”

“I try,” he says softly as he looks at her sideways.

She scoots her front half over to the edge of the cot, partially hanging over it as she wraps her foreleg around him in a hug and pulls him closer so she can rest her head on his shoulder. “Thanks,” she mumbles as she goes back to sleep while using his shoulder as a pillow.

Gearing stays in the same position as he looks her over and watches her return to her slow rhythmic breathing patterns. He redistributes his weight among his legs as he carefully turns and goes back to reading the notes he’d gotten from Bonesaw. All while not moving any part of himself that would cause Dandy to fall off the cot or disturb her rest.

Footnote: Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

56 Differing Opinions

The next morning marked another early start for Megamart as traffic had begun picking up again at the cusp of dawn. Dandy woke up and got her day started relatively early as well. But, even so, Handy and Gearing had already made themselves scarce as Swift stayed near Dandy’s cot and sorted through her own supplies and kept watch. Once she was fully awake and situated, Dandy and Swift started a quick circuit around Megamart for Dandy to take care of a bit of business.

Dandy can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed about having someone foalsit her, a fact that’s magnified by the one doing the actual foalsitting is an actual Reaper, but she doesn’t argue nor fight about it. She knows it’s pretty much needed. Not to mention she’s not sure how serious Iron Hoof Swift is taking this particular assignment. On another note, it does help that Swift herself is attracting a lot of attention of the leering variety. The less ‘potentially interested’ looks focused on Dandy, the easier it is for her to focus and keep her mind from wandering down dirty gutters. Although the glances and silly smirks instantly get directed elsewhere moments after Swift locks eyes with them and gives them her ‘I’m not amused’ glare.

Dandy considers it a personal victory to have avoided propositioning Swift herself. Being in perpetual proximity to such a cute fit pegasus mare is positively painful for her. But, she’s managed to maintain enough sense to realize it’s not a good idea. They are doing her an immense favor and to try and get under her tail at this point would be ungrateful beyond measure. Though the idea for feeling out the possibility later becomes an insidious nag in the back of her mind that promises many late sleepless nights of frustration to come. Swift is positively irresistible, even without hormonal assistance. Dandy flushes as she wonders if others around them are thinking that ‘alluring smell’ is coming from Swift, instead of herself, and how bad it’s got to be for them if that’s the case. She needs to get out of here and off to work before something bad happens. Especially if it happens because of her and her inability to control herself.

After swinging by a couple of Dandy’s contacts inside of Megamart, they start tracking down Gearing. Though, it wasn’t entirely hard to find him given Swift had a good idea of where to start based on his train of thought when he left her alone to watch Dandy that morning.

As the pair are walking up to the Megamart clinic, Gearing is standing off to the side holding up one notebook, book, and folder of papers after another as he argues with the stained lab coat wearing older brown unicorn stallion.

Dandy walks up and looks between them as she asks, “Hey, Doc Bonesaw, what’s up?”

Bonesaw rubs on his head with a forehoof as he readjusts his glasses on his nose with his magical field. “Hello, Dandy. Do you need some help?” He leans towards her and asks softly, “Please say yes, this buck is driving me insane.”

Dandy looks over at Gearing and frowns as she asks, “Gearing, what are you doing to poor Bonesaw?”

Swift looks between them and asks, “Are you hassling the only medical pony around here, Gearing?”

Gearing sets down the papers he’d held aloft with a hoof and looks between them. “I’m just trying to get a straight answer, here!”

Bonesaw looks over at him and scowls through his glasses as he says, “And I’ve told you all I know! I can’t help you any more than I already have.” He shakes his head. “It’s nasty business that nopony really understands. Go ask the zebras about it!”

Gearing points a hoof at him as he grumbles, “That’s bullshit, and I know it! That’s why I keep asking, because it doesn’t add up!”

Bonesaw rubs a hoof over his face as he grumbles. “Go bother somepony else. I don’t have time for this.” He looks over at Dandy and nods towards Gearing. “Friend of yours?” Dandy and Swift nod. “Great, would you kindly get him out of my mane before I call Keystone.”

“For what?!” Gearing asks indignantly.

Bonesaw stares at him and grumbles, “For being an annoying ass and giving me a headache!”

Dandy rolls her eyes and shares a glance with Swift before looking over at Gearing and asking, “Hey, Gearing, you up for some more work?”

Gearing looks over at her and tilts his head as he asks, “What’d you have in mind?”

Dandy walks slowly up to him and grins as she swishes her tail excitedly, “Got word of a contract to go clear out some bandits out near Stockyard.”

Gearing frowns and points off to the side. “It’s not one of those bullshit notices on that board is it? Those things look sketchy at best.”

Dandy chuckles as she shakes her head. “No. It’s through my company’s contacts.” She waves a hoof dismissively. “Don’t worry, it’s legit.”

Gearing shrugs as he starts walking their way. “I’ll take a look, sure. If it’s something I can help with, I will.”

Dandy prances in place as she giggles. “Bigger shares, yay!”

Swift looks between the two then narrows her eyes at Gearing. “Are you going to be able to behave yourself around her? Her eyes have been wandering all morning already.”

Dandy flushes and she snaps before she looks at Swift, “They have not!” They stare at each other for a moment before she hangs her head. “Well… you might be right.” She looks sheepishly at Swift as she says quietly, “Even more of a reason for me to get out of here.”

Swift reaches out her PipBuck laden hoof towards Gearing and says flatly, “Tag, you’re it.”

Gearing chuckles as he taps her hoof with his own as he grins. “Yeah, yeah. I got this.” He looks around as he asks, “Where’s Handy?”

Swift vaguely waves a hoof in the general direction of the center of Megamart. “He’s mainly hanging around that booth waiting on that buck to get back. Not really much else to do at the moment.” She looks at Gearing as she tilts her head. “And here you are, going off and having some more fun while you’re leaving me stuck in here with all these creeps shopping. Why didn’t you invite me along on your little adventure?”

Gearing narrows his eyes as he says, “Handy’s one reason.”

Swift leans towards him as she puts her powerhoof in his face. “I’m a grown ass mare, and I’ll go where I want. He’s my husband, not my owner.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t want to stay here by himself while the rest of us left. And at least one of us needs to be here for when either that buck gets here or info on him comes in. The entire trip here was to get equipment and if we just skip out on that now because of some boredom it’d be a waste.” He raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Or would you rather I stay here, while you and Handy go with Dandy to deal with the bandits? Go ahead and think that line of action through, and where it’d probably lead, for a few moments… I’ll wait.” He sits and folds his forelegs across his chest as he stares at her. He pointedly glances at Dandy, then back at Swift as he arcs an eyebrow.

Dandy looks off to the side as she says, “If ya’ll are coming instead, I’m still getting half the reward. It’s my contract… split the other half between you however you want…”

Swift narrows her eyes at Dandy, but she’s doing an excellent job of looking at Bonesaw’s advertisement sign for various treatment options at the moment to allow herself to see it. Though she can certainly feel the daggers being stared at her.

“You got a point,” Swift relents with a sigh. She looks over at Gearing and says, “Somepony’s gotta stay here and hold down the fort, and it wouldn’t be right to just take off on Handy like that.” She points her powerhoof in Gearing’s face again as she grins. “But you’ve gotta promise to take me somewhere nice!” She waves the hoof around as she giggles, “Somewhere I can really stretch out my muscles.”

Gearing chuckles. “Well, the way the schedules been filling up up here, it probably won’t be too long before there’s something we can go do.”

Dandy’s eyes light up as she asks, “We ready to go? Just the two of us?”

Swift raises an ear as she looks at Dandy sideways with a single eye. She leans towards Dandy and taps her on her chest as she says, “You, little miss horny head, behave yourself!”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she looks into Swift’s eyes and can only help but nodding quickly as she says, “Yes, ma’am!”

Swift whips the powerhoof over to Gearing’s face as she says, “And you… don’t go letting your snoot get you in trouble.”

Gearing rolls his eyes and starts walking away from Bonesaw’s clinic as he says, “That stuff doesn’t affect me, I keep telling you this.”

“And yet… somehow I don’t believe it,” Swift says as she watches him leave before turning to trot off to find Handy.

Dandy looks between them then happily trots over and along side Gearing as they head towards the front door. “You need to grab anything?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah, got everything on me I’d need I’m pretty sure.” He looks at her sideways as he asks, “You got everything you need? And where are we going anyway?”

She nods as she replies, “Yeah. I’m good. And it’s out near Stockyard.”

Gearing looks at her as he asks, “Got a direction for me? Or some landmark that’s been around for two hundred or so years?”

Dandy snickers then points off to the south west. “Stockyard’s south west of here… Just south of the Fluttershy Medical Center… The area we’re looking for is off the main roads to the east of that, in between here and there. So we’re going to have to leave the road right in front of Megamart.” Gearing stops and slowly turns to look at her as he mentally starts mapping out what she’s saying. Dandy tilts her head as she likewise pauses walking and asks softly, “What? What’s wrong?”

“We’re not going near Miramare Air Station, are we?”

Dandy shakes her head. “No, that’s quite a bit south still… We’ll be going about half way between here and there though, but that’s it. Why?”

Gearing looks around as he tries to do the mental math, then finally nods as he says, “Okay, that should be fine… But no further…” He looks at her and frowns as he says softly, “That’s on my list of ‘no fly’ zones until further notice. I’m sure it got hit hard and I don’t want to mess around with an area like that.”

Dandy nods quickly as she says, “Oh, you’re right. It’s got a massive radioactive crater from what I understand. But, don’t worry, we won’t be going that far.”

Gearing smiles with a nod of thanks for the confirmation before he waves her forward. “Great, lead the way!”

She motions towards the door with a tilt of her head and then leads the rest of the way out of Megamart and back outside into the light of the hazy morning. But, even in the dull diffused light of the morning they can clearly make out the group of bounty hunters still camping out in front of Megamart. The pair makes a sharp turn to avoid the group as a whole, as they have bigger problems to deal with at the moment than greedy wannabes. As they are crossing the road, Dandy looks over her shoulder and smirks as she asks, “Uh… Gearing?”

He locks eyes with her and raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Did you just have me get in front of you… for your own entertainment purposes?” She gives him a sly grin as she swishes her tail.

Gearing shakes his head as he chuckles. “Oh boy… don’t get fresh.”

“That’s my line!”

* * *

After they’ve been traveling for a while by cutting cross-county, and talking about random things here and there, Dandy asks, “So… what was that argument about that got Bonesaw so riled with you?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he shakes his head and says, “It’s just about this ‘enervation’ crap.”

Dandy walks along next to him as she asks, “What about it? I mean, it’s freaky and sucks, but what about it?”

Gearing looks at her as he says, “Exactly!”

Dandy stares at him for a moment before reaching over and tapping him on the head repeatedly, “I can see why Bonesaw was getting annoyed with you. You’re not making any sense at all, Gearing.”

He stops and puts a hoof to his face for a moment as he takes in a deep breath. Both actions entirely unnecessarily for the conversation, but do an excellent job of buying him enough time to process his thoughts. “Look, the entire thing doesn’t make sense. From what everything I’ve read said, they are blaming it on zebras and said it’s left over mumbo jumbo like radiation from the weapons they fired.”

Dandy looks at him and tilts her head as she asks, “Yeah? So? What’s so mysterious about that?” She waves both forehooves around them as she says, “If you haven’t noticed, they’ve fucked Equestria over right and proper, so why are you hung up on this one thing?”

Gearing looks her in the eye as he says, “Because the zebras didn’t do this!”

Dandy sits down and rolls her eyes as she says, “Uh huh… right… and you know this… how?”

Gearing pulls off the cowl of his cloak and stares at her as he raises an eyebrow and asks flatly, “Really? You’re going to ask that of me?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she sees the expression in his own. She puts her forehooves together and takes in a deep breath with her eyes closed before opening one and giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m not trying to call you a liar. I know how old you are. But… Walk me through it… would you?”

Gearing bobs his head around and then motions with it for them to continue as he says, “Okay… right… That’s fair…” They keep to low areas as much as they can as he continues, “I didn’t just pull this out of my ass, but I’m sure the zebra didn’t have anything to do with this…” He looks at her as she walks next to him as they plod along through the mostly undeveloped landscape. “The biggest bit of evidence I can give you is the area of deployment.” To the raised eyebrow he gets in response he leans towards her and says quietly, “You travel around a lot, right?” She nods. “Even over in Equestria proper?” She nods again. “So, have you ever run into anything like this ‘enervation’ anywhere else besides Hoofington?”

She scrunches her mouth to one side before she says softly, “Radiation is everywhere, Gearing… so… yes.”

Gearing shakes his head. “This isn’t radiation. I’m not talking about radiation. Only ‘enervation’, have you run into anything, outside of Hoofington, that you can point at and say ‘Yes, that is definitely enervation!’?” She starts scrunching up her mouth in a variety of ways. And, as she’s mentally chewing on that, he adds, “Radiation is a byproduct. A shity byproduct, and unquestionably lethal, but still just a byproduct of the primary effect. It is a continuous release of energy.” He raises his PipBuck so she can see it as he adds, “The energy released can even be measured with devices like this… And the thing about radiation is that, eventually, it’ll wear itself out.” He bobs his head around as he says softly, “It could take a long looooong time… As the energy it’s casting off is the same radiation that can kill… but... eventually it’ll burn itself out and be inert.” He locks eyes with her as he points a wing at her sideways. “But the one thing that’s constant about it, is that it gets progressively weaker over time.” He looks forward as his eyes narrow. “But apparently ‘Enervation’ has been getting stronger… In some cases it’s just cropped up, in areas where it used to be safe. With no explanation. Just… poof… enervatioooooon.”

“But… why don’t you think the zebras had anything to do with it?”

Gearing stops, spins around, and sits in front of Dandy as he says, “Okay… hold on a minute…” They look at each other for a few moments before he says, “From everything I’ve read, and Bonesaw was able, or willing, to tell me… This is not a new phenomena… But it crops up in new areas… but always… all of the areas are in the Hoofington region. So, I ask you this, why isn’t it anywhere else?”

“I… don’t know? Maybe we just haven’t detected it anywhere else?” Her eyes go wide as she stares cross-eyed at the brassy hoof suddenly pointing at her snoot.

Gearing gently taps her on the nose as he says, “And that’s exactly the problem… wanna know why?” Dandy runs her eyes from his hoof, up to his eyes, and then slowly nods. “The zebras didn’t like Celestia because of her politics and the war in general… but they, as a whole, absolutely despised Luna. Or as they called her, Nightmare Moon.”

Dandy frowns as she says, “Nightmare Moon was defeated though… Luna wasn’t the same being, right?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Whether she was or not, doesn’t matter, once Luna took over it was a call to action against the horrors of ‘Nightmare Moon’ and there would be no convincing the zebra peoples, as a whole, otherwise.” He leans towards Dandy as he says, “They would have given anything to get rid of Luna.”

Dandy frowns as she looks around at the ground. “I knew it was bad…. But… goddesses…”

Gearing taps on her nose again to get her attention. And, after achieving that, he leans in and asks, “And that was a fact… So… If Roam had some kind of super weapon. One where its effects could only be measured in sickness, weakness, and death. One that you had no chance of fighting and had to simply flee the affected areas, permanently…” He tilts his head as he raises an eyebrow. “Why in the hell would Roam scatter that out around Hoofington… instead of Canterlot?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as her mouth drops open.

Gearing nods as he points at her repeatedly. “See? If Roam had something like that, Canterlot should have been ground zero for the worst of the worst. Shield or no. They could have simply surrounded the city with it. Got as close as they could. And, trust me, they could get quite close, even inside the city.This enervation crap included. But it wasn’t… Canterlot and the majority of Equestria’s never even heard of it. The only common factor to enervation is Hoofington itself.”

Dandy looks around then leans towards Gearing as she asks, “So… what? You saying the problem is Hoofington? Not some zebra weapon?”

Gearing lets out a long frustrated sigh before he looks her sternly in the eye. “Look. Dandy, I can’t get into it. But I am very familiar with Roam’s weapon capabilities. I’m aware of shit that most didn’t even know was in development.” He puts a hoof to his chest as he bobs his head a single solitary time for emphasis as he says, “Please trust me… if Roam had some shit like that under their robe… I’d have known about it. They would have been more than happy to use it. And use it in mass. But their targets would have been entirely different. And they would have gladly done so when the time came.”

Dandy holds up a hoof as she looks around and asks softly, “Okay… okay… let’s say I believe you… that you had some kind of super secret information access…” She waves at him and gives a sheepish smile as she says, “Your… augments… lend that some credibility… so… then what? If not a zebra weapon of mass destruction, then what?”

Gearing looks her in the eye and says softly, “I can’t be sure, but I have a guess… and I don’t really think you want to hear it.”

Dandy beckons with a hoof as she looks off to the side. “Come on… what’s the worst that can happen?”

Gearing looks around as he says, “Well… given what we know… and what I know for a fact… That the weapon didn’t come from Roam… That Canterlot, and the rest of Equestria has been spared… That the focus of it seems to be in Hoofington… And that it’s actually getting stronger over time, not weaker… There’s only one thing I can think of…”

After a few more moments of silence, Dandy beckons with a forehoof again as she asks, “If all that’s true, then what? What’s wrong?”

Gearing looks her in the eye and says softly, “We did it.” He shrugs as he looks around, “It was us not the zebra…. Probably some secret weapon or project buried deep in The Core of Hoofington… A project that’s still running, feeding the effect… Which is why it’s getting stronger over time. And why it’s localized to Hoofington… for now…”

Dandy’s eyes wander around as she says softly, “No way… you have any idea how many have died because of this… and you’re saying we did it to ourselves?!”

Gearing shrugs as he looks down. “It’s the only thing that makes logical sense… yeah…”

Dandy hops over and grabs his face with both forehooves, forcing him to look at her as she asks, “Well what the hell is it? What do you know that you’re not saying? How the hell do we turn it off?!”

Gearing looks her in the eyes and shrugs. “I… I don’t know…”

She leans in and gets face to face with him as she yells, “The hell you don’t know! You seemed pretty damn confident that it wasn’t the zebras before, and now it makes just a bit too much sense on why you were so adamant on that fact. So what the hell, Gearing?!”

Gearing says softly, “Dandy, compartmentalization was critical during the war. If you weren’t a part of a project, you likely didn’t even know it existed.” He motions towards himself with a forehoof. “My implants were a joint effort between ministries, and even with that, I was limited to only that one area. It was all need to know. And I didn’t need to know, so not only was I not told, I didn’t want to know. Less chances of leaks getting out that way.” He looks off to the side as he says, “And Arcane Sciences were never my strong suit…” He motions towards his head. “No horn, remember?” He shrugs. “I can work on things, use what I’m given. Figure it out that way. But this kind of crap? I can guess at it, but that’s all.”

She gently rubs on his cheeks as she says, “Gearing, I’ve had some rather lengthy conversations with Swift about you...” She taps him on the end of his nose. “You are a brilliant repair pony and technician… I’m sure if you got your hooves on it, that you’d be able to figure out how to deal with it... maybe even shut it down.”

Gearing bobs his head around as he says softly, “Yeah… but that’s part of the problem.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And… what’s that?”

Gearing looks her in the eye and frowns as he says, “Most likely? It’s inside The Core. And not in a tower either, probably in some deep underground facility to keep it safe.”

“Oh… that’s what…” she says softly. “And that’s sealed up tighter than a Steel Ranger bunker.” He nods and looks down again with a sigh. After a few moments she asks, “Any ideas?”

Gearing nods as he takes in a deep breath. “Yeah, actually.”

She manipulates his head to look up at her as she asks, “Oh? What’s that?”

Gearing gives her a wide grin as he says, “Simple… I just gotta break into The Core.”

Her eyes bug out as she asks with a breathy gasp, “You’re kidding!” He shakes his head. “You’re not kidding…” He shakes his head again. She gives him a wry smile as she asks, “Well… when are we going?”

Gearing reaches up and grabs her hooves on his cheeks as he says, “Dandy, I gotta go alone.” She opens her mouth to say something, but he clamps her muzzle shut with both of his wings as he says, “No. It’ll have to be me and me alone. If I can manage to get in, there’s shit set up in there that’ll fry anyone walking around without proper clearance. And I can’t do anything about that until I’m already where I need to be, which means anyone with me would get ashed.”

Dandy gently pushes his wings off her muzzle before she looks down and says softly, “And you’ll be fine… because you do have the proper clearance… right?”

“I did, yes.”

Dandy hangs her head as she lets out a long slow groan.

Gearing taps on her shoulder and says softly, “There’s something else.” Dandy looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell Swift or anyone else about this either… You have enough of a lick of sense to listen to reason, Swift doesn’t… If you tell her about this, I’ll have both her and Handy up my butt and it’ll probably end with her three kids being orphans… so don’t say anything.”

“Uhg… that’s heavy…”

“Tell me about it…”

“When are you going?”

Gearing pulls back and starts standing up to leave as he says, “As soon as I get a few other things sorted out first. I can’t just disappear and leave Swift, the kids, and everyone in the lurch. Once that’s sorted, I can start… Few more days, a week maybe?”

“Great!” Dandy chimes with a grin. “That means we can get a few more assignments done before you just disappear on me.” She trots up next to him before she asks, “You… are… planning on coming back… eventually… right?”

Gearing chuckles as he says, “I hated the fugly ass place before. I’ll only stay in as long as I have to.”

“Well, that’s good to know. Would suck for someone of your abilities to just up and disappear without a trace.”

Gearing looks at her sideways and smirks as she trots along with him. “Are you referring to me being the right pony for the job to scratch off your contract lists… or for scratching your own itches?”

Dandy smirks then gets a bit giggly as she asks, “Both? Can it be both? Because it’s totally both.” Her grin gets wider, but then so does the spread of the warm blush across her cheeks.

Gearing rolls his eyes as he continues walking along and snickering to himself.

“And, uh, hey, since you brought it up and everything...”

Gearing stops walking as he takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. “Really? Again? And here of all places? Don’t we have things to do?” He waves a hoof around as he asks, “Isn’t that what the whole idea of staying busy is supposed to be for?”

She waves a hoof dismissively, though the rapid deepening and spread of the blush across her cream face and neck says otherwise. “I didn’t mean that, I just had a question… well… it is related to that, but not that exactly, if you get what I mean so I just thought I’d ask, that is if you’re comfortable with it, are you comfortable with it? Because if not I totally won’t ask-“

Gearing chuckles as he holds up a hoof to stop her. “Well I can’t tell you if I’m comfortable with answering a question unless you tell me what it is… so… how about you just ask, and I’ll tell you if I’m willing to answer it or not.”

“That’s fair,” she comments as she looks around at the ground.

He stares at her for a few moments, then starts raising an eyebrow as he’s waiting for her to finally continue.

After a few moments longer her eyes jump wide as she says, “Oh, right. The question…” She starts walking again, with him falling in line next to her, as she begins rambling, “So, I’m not trying to be weird about it or anything, and I don’t want to offend, so if it’s offensive, just say so and I’ll shut up, but I was just wondering about how you do things.” He looks at her and opens his mouth, but she continues, “Well, I don’t mean how you do things, because, I kind of already know by now.” She starts giggling before she says, “I mean more along the line of… well…” She reaches over with a hoof and taps his shoulder. “You don’t have any organic parts, and with the way everything is, I figured you’d be pretty much solid metal. But… it’s so weird… even though you’re solid metal, or at least as solid as a bunch of individual parts coming together can be, you were surprisingly gentle.” She bobs her head around. “I mean, at the time, I was so out of my mind turned on and horny that I couldn’t think straight, but afterwards I started thinking about it, and even now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Do you have a point to this or are you just throwing around innuendo and going to talk about what’s between my legs all day?” Gearing asks with a raised eyebrow.

Dandy looks at him and raises an eyebrow as she says, “I just don’t understand how you didn’t squish me! I mean, you were all over me in the absolutely best ways possible. Really. But, with how much I was sure you weighed I just can’t figure out how you didn’t just make me pony jelly. I mean a good rough rut is one thing, but I can’t figure out how I’m not a paint stain on the stone tile floor of that business building.” She looks forward as she’s rotating her head and picturing the events in her mind’s eye again as she gets another goofy grin on her muzzle. “I mean, it wasn’t simply you holding up your entire weight on the floor or something. There was a couple times that I was entirely supporting your weight and while it might have made it a bit harder to breath,” she leans over and taps him on the shoulder, “Not complaining by the way… but... it wasn’t in an ‘Oh Celestia I’m going to die and be turned to jelly!’ level of weight… More like an earth pony buck hopped on for a ride… But then that one mare you jumped on, before shooting her in the head, you practically did turn her into paint just from partially landing on her… So how is it I’m still alive, let alone still able to walk right now?”

Gearing keeps staring at her as he asks, “Are you trying to ask about my particular techniques, or simply my weight?”

She grins at him as her cheeks turn especially rosy. “I’d love to hear more about your techniques later, but… weight… How’d you not squish me when you did squish that crazy gang member of Cookie’s?”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he lets out a gush of air. “Well, your gut’s right. My standard weight is well over a metric ton-”

Dandy stumbles a bit as she cuts him off. “A metric ton?!”

Gearing chuckles as he says, “Yeah… I can drop a ton of whoop ass on someone just by stepping on them… but… anyway… One of my implants manages my weight.” He shrugs. “It makes me lighter so I can walk around on things without breaking everything.”

“Okay… so that explains why I’m not currently being carried in a jar labeled ‘Dandy Jam’, but what about that mare you jumped on?”

Gearing looks at her and grins as he says, “Oh… I turned it off for a bit of an extra crunch.”

Dandy cringes as she looks at him. “Yeeeesh… When you’re not messing around, you really aren’t messing around.”

“When it comes to a fight for life and limb of me and mine, no… No, I don’t.” He looks around as he asks, “So, since you asked a question, mind if I ask one myself?”

Dandy looks over at him and gives her hips and tail a few vigorous swishes back and forth as she partially closes her eyes as she says softly, “By all means.”

Gearing rolls his eyes before shaking his head. “Well, you seem to have your own line of contacts for contracts. And somehow I’m pretty sure some company that wants to stay reputable wouldn’t simply blurt out their various contracts…”

Dandy frowns but nods as she confirms, “That’s true. Plus it would cause too much competition between our own members. Don’t want more than one going after a particular bounty at once or you start stepping on each others tails.”

Gearing nods before he looks at her. “So how’d everyone hear about the bounty on Security then?” He waves off to the side as he says, “I ran into some wannabe’s all the way down in Megamac that heard about it on the radio, supposedly, but who would be doing that?”

Dandy rolls her eyes as she groans, “Yeah… That’d be Redbeard’s doing… Such a creepy asshole.”

Gearing looks around as if he’s waiting on someone else to provide him with some as of yet unknown information before asking, “Who’s that?”

Dandy stops and sits down as she stares at him. “He’s a slaver jackass that operates Paradise Radio. He’s been getting everyone riled up to go after Security. She’s bad for the slaver business. Which means it’s bad for Usury and Paradise.”

Gearing lifts his PipBuck and starts scanning signals for stations and after a few moments a buck’s voice comes across like he’d been gargling nails for fun. It’s a bit soft, indicative to Gearing that the signal’s a bit weak or coming from far away, but strong enough to listen to it as long as they aren’t moving around.

Dandy instantly frowns and sticks her tongue out in disgust as she groans, “Yeah, that’s him… Got a voice like 20 grit sandpaper on my horn.”

“…-ukers are just coming out of the woodwork! I told you. Didn’t I tell you?! I knew there was something up with this Securicunt! If we don’t deal with this, and right damn NOW, we’re going to get overrun. Our whole way of life. This is OUR home and those Manehattan bastards can’t have it!

So if you’re out there working, keep a lookout. Because if you find Security, that’s one hell of a pay day. But keep your eyes open, because Tenpony’s sent backup for her, and now we got this zebra commando in power armor sneaking around and killing off us hard working folks. Nothing more than a soulless attack dog. He’s remorseless, and will kill even helpless old stallions in a heartbeat. Smashed that old buck’s head in right in front of dozens of witnesses and DARED anyone to do anything about it!”

“Is he talking about you?” Dandy asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Then the psycho tracked down another buck that was going after Security, and blew his fucking head off while he was sitting down to dinner! So much for Megamart being neutral ground!”

“I’d say so, yeah…” Gearing replies as he looks at his PipBuck.

“There’s not a bounty on him YET, but if this keeps up, there might just be one soon. Maybe we can start up a pool for it. For our own protection if nothing else. So if you see this fucker, put his ass down as quickly as you can. You’ll be doing yourself, and everyone else, a favor. Hell, stop by Paradise with his helmet and I’ll buy you a drink.” There’s a grumbling of annoyance before a hoof bangs on a table repeatedly as he continues. “I don’t know what this bastard’s deal is. Going through all of this shit just to get on Security’s good side? Is that it? Hey, buck, whoever the hell you are, if you’re listening, there’s easier ways to get a piece of ass. Stop by Flank, they’ll set you up… I just don’t get it. Besides being the most desperate buck in the wastes. What kind of fucking loser are you? You’ll get yours, you self-righteous prick! I-”

Gearing turns off the radio and sits there staring at it for a moment as he thinks things through.

“Well,” Dandy starts, “If your goal was to get under his skin… congratulations.” She grins at Gearing as she says, “I think you’ve got him scared… I’ve never heard him so rattled before.” Gearing keeps looking at his PipBuck and Dandy asks, “You alright?” A moment later she asks softly, “Don’t tell me you’re actually putting stock in anything he has to say…” She smirks as she tilts her head. “We both know you’re not exactly desperate.” She gives him a wink as she walks over to sit next to him.

“Dandy,” Gearing says softly.

“I was just teasing…” Dandy quickly replies as she looks at his PipBuck and tries to see what he’s doing. But his screen is just a selection list of available frequencies within range.

Gearing looks at her and asks, “If they do put a bounty on me, can you tell your company to ignore it?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide, before she leans over and wraps a foreleg around his shoulders. “Oh… Gearing… don’t worry… I wouldn’t go after you…”

Gearing closes his eyes and sighs before he opens them and looks her in her eyes. “Dandy… I did this to draw out scum that have no problem killing innocent people for caps… If I get a bounty on my head, and any of your company comes after me…”

She looks from one of his eyes to the other before she closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh. “You’re asking me… because you don’t want to have to kill any of my friends… is that it?”

“I’ll do it, Dandy. I’ll do it in an instant and won’t hold back,” Gearing says with a flat finality that refuses any argument. “I’d really rather not. But I will if I have to.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t put me in that situation.”

Dandy shakes her head. “We wouldn’t normally go after those kinds of bounties anyway. Paradise is shady as hell. They’re just as likely to slap a bomb collar on you as to pay out… But, I’ll send word along the line, and make sure everyone knows the score. Just in case they try some crap with lying about the reasons or whatever.”

Gearing nods as he looks down at the PipBuck, and closes out of the screens. “Thanks.”

“So… Mr. Tenpony-Attack-Dog… ready to go sniff out some trouble?”

Gearing chuckles as he looks at her sideways, “I prefer the term watch dog, but sure… Woof!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An orange buck with a coffee mug sits in one of the many break rooms of this ubiquitously designed government building. The walls have the typical propaganda messages from the Ministry of Image with Fluttershy pleading for everypony to ‘Do Better’ and Steel Rangers asking for new recruits.

Neither of them are paid much mind by the members of this office.

The gray unicorn mare standing near the coffee machine says with a reproachful tone, “You know you shouldn’t talk like that,” as she pours herself a cup of coffee and doesn’t even look at the grumpy buck sitting at the table.

He looks over at her and frowns. “Why, because his freaky ass is going to make me disappear or something? I tell ya there’s just something fundamentally… wrong… with having someone like that… that… attack dog in our office.”

The gray mare scowls as she spins around and nearly spills her coffee as she says, “And what’s wrong with him? What has he done to you personally that makes you hate him so much?” She walks over to her side of the table with her cup floating next to her as she glares at him. “You do nothing but bitch about him. I’d like to know why!”

He shivers and shakes his shoulders as he looks around. “It’s just not natural, I’m telling you.” He looks her over and tilts his head as he asks, “Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me that you are perfectly okay with something like that running around?” He leans across the table as he says in a stage whisper, “Making life and death decisions? On the fly? Apparently just because?” He shakes his head as he pulls back. “No one should have that much freedom, let alone something so cold and calculated as that thing!” He looks at the door out to the hallway before leaning over and asking, “What happens when it runs the numbers and comes to the conclusion that the rest of equinity needs to be put down? How long are we safe until it decides it doesn’t need us anymore!”

She glares at him with her eyes partially closed. “That’s not how he works. If you knew anything about him, you’d know that was complete bullshit.” She tilts her head as she grins. “Do you think he actually needs you? Huh? Well, you’re your own best proof that what you’re saying is bullshit. He hasn’t just simply killed you already. So what makes you think he’ll suddenly go rogue later on?”

He looks her over for a few moments before he says, “Nothing is entirely secure. It only takes one bug to get through and suddenly, bam, our own best resources can be turned on us. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t you see this?!” He looks around quickly as he says, “How am I the only one that realizes this?!”

She tilts her head as she says, “The only thing I’m realizing right now… is just how fucking stupid you are…” She sets the coffee cup down on the table, then rears up and plants her forehooves on the table as she leans across it and gets in his face. “He’s done more for Equestria than you’ve even thought of… You wonder why he has so many friends? Because he’s taken on jobs that nopony else would even consider, and not only got them done, but returned to do it again!” She tilts her head the other way as she says, “Just off the top of my head, he’s been involved in the Combat Search and Rescue ops that had rescued friends or family of at least six members of this office alone. All while not suffering a single casualty.” She starts heavily tapping on the table with a hoof as she says, “Including my little sister!”

She pulls back and sits down on her haunches as she folds her forelegs across her chest and scowls at him. “So if you wanna talk some shit bout him… you better start figuring out why you don’t like him in the first place. Because, honestly, this,” She waves a hoof limply in his direction, “All sounds like gossipy bullshit, and nothing anyone would take seriously from you.”

He leans over and tilts his head as he asks, “You haven’t heard the kind of shit he’s gotten into? I mean have you seen him? I mean actually seen him? It’s freaky! Nopony should be willing to go through whatever the hell he did to end up like that. He’d gotta be cracked in the head, mark my words!” He shakes his head violently before he says, “And, eventually, that dog’s gonna bite the hoof that feeds it!”

She slowly leans on the table as she scowls at him. “Yeah… I’ve seen him… And I probably know a lot more about him than you have clearance too… So one thing I think you need to keep in mind, before you keep running your mouth all over this outpost… is this.” She raises a hoof, then leans over and pops him in the nose with a quick flick of it. “If he’s Dash’s ‘Attack Dog’ as you put it… you’d be doing yourself a favor to remember that when she sends him to ‘fetch’…. It can very well mean anything, up to and including somepony’s head.”

He opens his mouth to say something, with a scowl across his face, but he’s cut off by a voice from behind him as his eyes practically jump out of his skull.

“I am very… very… disappointed in you…”

The orange buck slowly turns his head around to look behind himself as the blues of his eyes shrinks down to nearly nonexistence. His mouth slowly hangs open as his breathing jumps into high gear. His breath comes out in pants, as he quickly tries to think of something to say, and say it in his own defense, but nothing comes out except fear induced gasping and deep throaty squeaks.

“Oh damn…” the gray mare says as her eyes likewise shoot open in surprise. But not to the same level of the orange buck who seems to be mentally tripping over himself every fraction of a second.

Gearing, sporting his typical dark blue skin, steps towards the table they are sitting at, one slow step at a time, as he tuts them and waves the tip of one of his blue wings back and forth. “Truly. I’m not really sure what I should say about this…” He steps up to the table, between the two, and casually points his blue muzzle one way then the other as he looks them over and says, “Really, of everything you could have come up with… that’s what you chose?”

He closes his eyes and puts a hoof to his chest as he says slowly, “I’m so…. So disappointed in you.”

“Bu- uh- I- but-“ the orange buck sputters as he tries to lean back in preparation for running away from the looming figure next to him. But he tries to make it so it’s not so obvious that that’s what he’s doing. However, it’s plainly obvious to the others in the room, especially with the way he keeps scooting away with one inch spontaneous and sudden jerks.

Gearing looks over at the gray mare and says, “I thought this organization was supposed to be clever ponies?” He leans towards her as he asks, “Was I wrong? Or did they simply change policy while I was on vacation?”

She smirks at him and shrugs as she says, “Nah, I’m pretty sure somepony’s just been slipping some dummy-berry juice in the water or something.”

Gearing nods as he looks over at the sink. “That must be it… something in the water.” Gearing lets out a long sigh before he looks over and down at the orange buck that’s managed to scoot away a whole foot and a half, but freezes in place as Gearing stares him eye to eye. After a few moments of this intense eye contact Gearing narrows his eyes as he frowns, “‘Attack Dog’? Really? Out of everything that could be said about me, that’s the one you all have decided to stick with?”

The gray mare puts a hoof to her chin as she looks at him, “Well… as stereotypical as it may sound… it is in the right ballpark…”

The orange buck’s focus jumps over to hers as he points a hoof at her and lets out a long squeak as he obviously can’t believe she’d have the audacity to say that to his face.

Gearing looks back over at her and rolls his eyes. He tilts his head and leans towards her so that he has to look ‘up’ at her as he says, “I didn’t say it was inaccurate…” He brushes his blue mane out of his eyes with a hoof casually as he looks over at the orange buck and finishes, “I’m just saying it’s not particularly clever… especially with how much you both know about me.” He tuts them and puts a hoof to his chest as he says in long slow tones of disappointment, “I thought I could count on the ponies around me to be clever enough to come up with something better than that! Such a disappointment...”

The gray mare grows a grin across her muzzle as she props her head up with a hoof and looks at him. “Oh?” She waves towards him as she asks, “Then, mister clever pony… You’re the master… what would you have come up with?”

He looks at her for a moment before looking off and to the side as he says in a huff, “Oh, it’s so oooobvioooouuuusss… It’d be an insult to say it at this point.”

She leans towards him as she grins wider, “Ya can’t really think of anything else either, can ya?”

Gearing glances at her sideways as he asks, “Have you met me yet?”

She nods then waves across the table at the orange buck that’s managed to get nearly four feet away from the table at this point with his slow jerky crawl motion. “Well, come on then, master of the linguistic arts… How about you bequeath upon us pooooor lowly peasants a bit of your superior intellect?”

Gearing glances at her and pops his eyebrows up repeatedly as he says, “Well… I guess I am a… cunning… linguist… aren’t I?” and gives her a quick wink as he smirks in her direction.

She rolls her eyes as she giggles. “Oh boy, this shits gettn’ deep…” She looks him over then limply waves a hoof at him as she asks, “Well… what’s your big cunning clever pony description that’s sooo much better?”

Gearing stares at her for a moment then looks over at the orange buck again, who’s only managed to make it another foot away with his slow rocking away while not being directly observed. “Well… Given everything I do to safeguard Equestria… and watch over everything… Saying I’m a watch dog would make much more sense, and be far more clever.”

The orange buck pauses as he tilts his head before saying softly, “But… that’s about the same thing… You’re not mad about being called a dog?”

Gearing grins at him as he says, “Well this dog’s got bite…” He chomps and clicks his teeth together with a grin. “And, no… it’s not the same thing… And calling me a watch dog makes far more sense.”

The orange buck looks back and forth between the two before asking softly, “Why’s that?”

Gearing drops the illusionary disguise covering himself, with the various coatings that make up his synthetic pseudo skin retracting back into his body. In a matter of seconds he’s sitting there in his golden colored brassy form. They stare at each other, maintaining hard eye contact for a few moments before Gearing motions towards his face with a forehoof and says, “I’m not an attack dog… If anything, I’m Dash’s watch dog… Because I’m a clockwork…” He rocks his head side to side on the end of his neck in time with each word as he says, “Tick tock, mother focker,” and finishes with a swirl of his head on his shoulders and a cracking snap sound from the tip of his wing.

The orange buck recoils at the sound, and the intense stare, before he gets up and starts nervously chuckling. “Y- yeah. You’re right… That- that’s much better… Well, I’ve goofed off on break long enough, time for me to get back to work!” Then he starts walking towards the door, slowly picking up his pace before he gets to the door. And, once he’s out in the hallway, they can hear the clear hoof beats as he stampedes down the tunnel as quickly as his hooves can carry him away.

Gearing slowly turns his head towards the gray mare as he says flatly, “I do believe that buck may be working a bit too hard.”

She falls onto the table as she starts laughing with tears quickly forming along the edges of her eyes. She hits the table a few times with a hoof as she snorts and giggles before she looks up at him and smiles. “You do realize you damn near scared the soul right out of him when you just popped out of nowhere like that, right?”

A slow grin crosses Gearing’s muzzle as he says, “Well what fun would it have been if I’d done it any other way?”

She giggles some more before she lifts her head and props it up with a forehoof as she stares at him. “He’s so scared of you, I’m honestly surprised he didn’t piss himself, shit himself, then die of pure shock.” She glances at the door as she sighs, “He’s pretty solidly convinced right now that you’re going to kill him.”

Gearing puts a hoof to his chest and turns his head to the side as he says flatly, “I would not kill a member of the Equestrian government… What kind of monster does he take me for?” He leans towards her and pops his eyebrows a few times as he says, “Well, unless Dash said, ‘Gearing, go fetch!’” He pops his eyebrows a few more times as he says, “Woof, woof!”

She giggles a bit more and covers her muzzle with a foreleg as she shakes her head to keep from being too obnoxious with her laughter. She pulls back her hoof from her muzzle as she says with a tear streaked twinkle in her eye. “You’re horrible.” She grabs her coffee with her levitation field and finally gets to take a sip from it as she explores his smirking face. After taking a satisfyingly hot sip, she sets the cup down and smacks her lips as she looks at the wall across from her and asks, “So, what do you think? You going to do anything about him?”

Gearing glances over at the door then looks back at her as he asks, “I don’t know enough about him, one way or the other, to really do anything yet.” He leans on the table carefully as he blocks her line of vision to the wall and asks, “What do you think… Really?”

She lets out a long sigh as she slowly drops her eyes to the table where her coffee is sitting as she slowly mulls it over. She knows Gearing well enough that she knows he’s not being vindictive, he’s simply being thorough. Professional. And expects her to do the same. “I think he’s a security risk. He startles too easily. Starts dreaming up shit with little to no provocation, nor reason. And seems unnecessarily combative…” She looks over at him and her eyes narrow as she says flatly, “And, possibly worst of all?” She takes another sip from her cup before she says with a scowl, “He talks too fucking much in general, especially about things he really shouldn’t be talking about at all.” She motions towards Gearing as she says, “In case you didn’t pick up on that with this one conversation alone.”

Gearing nods as he looks back over at the door. “A scared little shit bigot I can put up with, but a security risk is something I can not abide…”

She nods as she gently taps her forehooves together. “So, how do you want to do this? Transfer out or…?”

Gearing looks over at her as he says, “He’s obviously under more stress than he can handle. Give him a vacation, and use the time he’s gone to switch him to a new, less sensitive, area.”

She sips her coffee as she nods. “So… give his memory a few whacks, then put him in the expert care of the Ministry of Peace for his Wartime Stress Disorder… and have him placed elsewhere… got it.” She looks over at him as she says softly, “You know, considering all that horrible shit he’s been saying about you, I don’t think anyone would have blamed you for cramming his head through a vending machine.” She shrugs. “You’re position aside, the little shit woulda had it coming.”

He takes in a deep breath before looking over at her and sighing. “I use whatever tool I have for the job. I’m not going to use a sledge to drive in a brad nail if I have a hammer. Always use the lowest cost tool you can for any situation… and, as far as I’m aware, not even that pink-maned nurse’s infamous spell matrix can fix dead… So… that’s only a last resort.”

She shakes her head as she looks down into her coffee. “You’re restraint is fucking ridiculous…” She glances at him sideways as she says, “I wanted to trounce him for it and he wasn’t even talking about me.” She continues looking over his golden metallic body as she asks, “I still don’t see how you manage it… even with the enemy. So many missions with nonexistent body counts. On either side?”

He gives her an easy smile as he says, “Like I said… right tool for the job. And as long as I have options, I’ll make it work.” He watches as she goes back to staring into her black as night coffee. And, after she’s not said anything for a while he asks, “Speaking of, how’s your sister doing?”

A smile cracks across her lips as she slowly shakes her head. “Damn, you’re amazing…” She looks over at him as she takes in a deep breath and says with a choke, “Good… she’s doing good.” She starts slowly rotating the cup with her hooves as she says quietly, “They’ve already got her walking again… and she got her first prosthetic leg yesterday… but they said it’s going to take some time for her to get used to it.”

Gearing looks around as he frowns. “Yeah. It’s not always possible to regenerate them if the damage is too severe.” He looks at her and gives the faintest bit of a smile as he says, “Hey, I can tell ya, metal legs aren’t the end of the world, ya know?” He holds his forelegs up and starts wobbling and wiggling them around limply as he grins at her.

She snickers and shakes her head as she says, “You’re awful… sweet… but awful.”

Gearing slowly switches back to his blue pelted form as he stands up. “Hey, I do what I can.”

She giggles as she holds the cup with her forehooves. “Yeah, I know…” She glances at him as she asks, “So… Mr. Cunning-Linguist . . . You keep promising me a dissertation…” She gives him a wide grin as she asks, “So when’s my turn to find out just what that bit stacking tongue of yours can do?”

He leans in towards her as he rolls his eyes up at the ceiling and says softly, “Welllll….”

She leans towards him and rests her cheek against his as she asks, “Wellllll?”

He gives her a quick wink while looking at her sideways, “Well… enjoy your coffee.” He steps away with long legged steps that leave his head in the same place as long as he can as he grins at her before he quickly steps away and out through the door.

She scrunches up her muzzle to the side as she lightly pouts, “You always say that.” She polishes off her coffee and looks at the damp bottom of the cup as a smile crosses her muzzle and she says quietly, “Fuckn’ tease.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

57 Burning Passion

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The littlest and newest member of Stormfront, Gearing, comes trotting through the hallways of Stormfront’s main complex in his strap tied-to-him oversized flight suit. Though unlike previous adventures through here, he has his goggles off, hanging down from around his neck, now that he’s in an area he feels comfortable with doing so.

He walks into one of the side rooms built into the cavernous structure and finds Cross, working away at some achano-tech gadget that just simply doesn’t want to come to life. And she’s exceedingly frustrated by its noncompliance.

And, before Gearing can actually say anything, Cross’s nose starts jumping around as she gets the first whiff of what Gearing is carrying in front of himself with his wings. Her nose has a near micro seizure as she slowly turns and raises her head to try and follow the scent in its alluring arc up, over, and behind her. And, a moment later she has her face inches from the square box Gearing is holding aloft in front of himself.

She takes in a few long deep breaths as she closes her eyes and basks in the aroma. “Oh god… sweet ambrosia…” She snorts a few times, with such force, and so close, that the cardboard top actually lifts a bit from the pressure vacuum. “Is that a BakeBuck’s Best pizza?”

Gearing sways it side to side, giggling as her nose seems nearly wonder glued to the surface of the cardboard as he moves it around and her face stays in the same position relative to the box top. “That it is!”

She looks up from the cardboard and asks as a hint of drool emerges from the edge of her mouth. “Please tell me you’re willing to share… Please?” She gives him a sweet smile as she asks, “Just one slice?”

Gearing turns around the box and opens it up as he says, “Actually… I got the whole thing just for you.”

Her eyes go wide and, the moment the words are out of his mouth, they jump from the golden brown ambrosia just inches from her nose up to Gearing’s eyes. “What?”

Gearing closes the box and holds it up for her. “You’ve been helping me so much, that I thought I’d do something nice for you too.”

Her eyes grow even wider open as they practically sparkle at the statement. “You got this just for me?!” He nods and grins even wider at her. She leans down and snuffs at the box a few more times as she asks, “An Extra Triple Layer Cheesy Three Cheese Pizza?”

Gearing shrugs and nods. “I figured you’d like it.”

She stares at him for a moment with a growing intensity on her face for a few moments, then points at her eyes with a hoof, then at his as she gets a massively serious look on her face. “Me and you… we’re like this… Seeing eye to eye for sure… This is exactly what the doctor ordered!”

She floats the box away and happily trots over to an open weapons locker chest that she slams shut and uses as a makeshift table to set the box on. The box flips open with a flash from her horn and she looks it over as she tries to figure out just where she should start this particular journey. Her magic pinches a bit of the crust, and starts lifting it up and away from the rest of the cheesy pie. Instantly lines form where the pizza had already been cut, but hidden under the mountain of steaming cheese. Her magic over glow carefully grows along the bottom of the slice as she slowly pulls it up and away from the box, causing a long streamer of cheese to connect the slice to the rest of it. And, the further away it gets from the box, the more her magical glow crawls along the length of the cheesy streamer. She carefully pulls it back and away, stretching out the cheese and using her levitation field to support it as she draws out a ridiculously long strand of mostly melted cheese. A strand that winds and curls in the air in front of her like a ball of yarn that a kitten was in the middle of playing with.

Her combat knife zips out of its shoulder holster, surrounded in more of her over glow, and deftly slices the end of the cheese that’s at the exact point of connecting it to the pizza. After completing the ritualistic incision she drops the blade next to the box as the magical glow of her field finally encompasses the end of the streamer as well. She looks up at this cheesy ball of wonder in front of her with her eyes sparkling, and, after a few moments of appreciation, brings the exact end of the cheese where she’d cut it loose and pops it into her mouth. She slowly chews, making unabashedly loud slurping noises as she slowly, and with delicious purpose, sucks up the meters long strand of cheese as if it were a simple spaghetti noodle. When the long trail has finally disappeared down her muzzle, but the slice she’d withdrawn has of yet to be bitten into, she finally takes her first bite of actual pizza, instead of just cheese, with a big chomp: eating the remaining bits of the cheesy streamer as she munches off the end of the pizza slice.

She stands there with her eyes closed, a forehoof pressed to the side of her cheek as she moans in pleasure, and enjoys thoroughly masticating the cheesy goodness.

Gearing giggles as she’s taking so long to savor the one bite, albeit that was a rather lengthy bite, in both terms of time and physical measurements. As she’s finishing the last of the slice, Gearing asks, “Hey… Cross?” She looks over at him and he can’t help but giggle as he sees she has the remaining crust hanging out of her mouth like a cigar as she mumbles an affirmative of her attention around the bread. He looks around at the room that functions as her lab as he asks, “I know we all have our reasons for being here… but… with your magical ability… you could probably work anywhere.” He shrugs as he asks, “I was just wondering… Why are you here playing combat medic, instead of working in the Ministry of Arcane Science?” He waves a forehoof dismissively. “I’m not judging. Just curious.” He shrugs. “I can’t do any magic obviously, but considering how much guff I get, I’m pretty sure you get hassled for ‘wasting your talents’ too.”

Cross nods as she looks over at the pizza and withdraws another slice. This time with far less ceremony as she uses her knife to cut off the strands of cheese instead of dragging them out to play with them again. “Yeah, you’re right… I do.”

He raises an eyebrow as he waves towards her. “So… ?”

She looks him in the eyes for a few moments before rolling her eyes as she says with disgust oozing from her muzzle, “Uhg… Twilight Sparkle!” Then she takes a rather angry bite of triple cheesy pizza goodness and chomps on it viciously as she looks at him.

His eyes go wide. “You don’t like Twilight Sparkle?! But… she’s like one of the most talented unicorns in the field of magic there is, isn’t she? Like supposed to be super smart and able to do any spell I hear. What wasn’t to like about her?” He frowns as he narrows his eyes and asks, “Is she a real jerk in person? Snobby like an uppity noble? That it?”

Cross chews on another bite of pizza as she shakes her head. She replies with her mouth still half full of a glob of cheese, “Oh no… MAS has a lot of opportunities and promised me a lot… and she was great and all, nicer than you’d expect… we coulda even been friends, maybe… but… it’s just…” She takes another chomp out of the pizza before even swallowing the first one and looks away as she blurts out with her mouth completely full of food. “Uhg!”

Gearing leans over to look at her as he asks, “What?”

She spins her head towards him and blurts out, sending spatters of pizza bits everywhere in the process, “She hated Quesadillas! And cheesy stuff in general!” She whips out another piece of pizza and flails it around in her magical aura in front of him as she says, “Like there’s such as thing as too much cheese!” She recoils and puts a hoof to her chest as she says softly, “I just don’t need that kind of turophobic negativity in my life!” Then demurely takes another, more reserved, bite of pizza with her eyes closed as she tries to drown the sour memory in cheesy goodness.

Gearing’s ears twitch as he slowly starts looking around in the dark corners of the room. Suddenly Skip’s soft musical voice echoes out from above, “Is that a BakeBuck’s Best pizza?”

Both Gearing and Cross look up to see Skip hanging down above them with a grin across his muzzle as his nose twitches.

Cross stuffs the slice she was working on in her mouth as she uses her magic and slams the box shut as she scowls at him and yells around the pizza in her mouth, “Ith mahn!”

He disappears in a puff of black smoke and reappears near the box outstretching his hoof. “Awww come on, just a slice, don’t be so stingy!”

Cross’s horn glows and a large translucent folded paper fan appears and smacks Skip’s hooves as she simultaneously yanks the box away with her levitation field. “Get your own!”

Skip pops away again and appears next to her, grabbing the pizza box and quickly flies away with it in his outstretched hooves as he says, “You’ve already eaten half of it anyway!”

Cross chases after him as she yells, “Get back here you little shit!” And the magical paper fan keeps swiping at him as he’s zipping around and heading out into the main area.

He looks back at her and grins. “I just want one slice! That’s all!” And as he’s flying away he starts opening the box.

“The hell you are!” she bellows and a flash of light appears from her horn, and next to Gearing.

With the cardboard box being lifted Skip didn’t even have a chance to see the steel tool tray that Cross teleported right in front of him that he crashes into face first.

As he’s falling out of the air, Cross teleports the box of pizza back to herself, wraps both of her forehooves around it, and actually hisses at Skip. “I said it’s mine!”

Hammer pokes around from the side of a shipping container with grease covering half her face as she yells, “What the hay’s going on over there?!”

Skip pulls himself up to a seated position and shakes his head as he points a hoof at Cross. “She ordered BakeBuck’s Best and won’t even share a slice!”

Equine heads start poking out of nearly every crevice and behind all of the equipment as one pony after another gives the conversation their undivided attention.

Cross’s eyes go wide as she holds the box closer to herself and zips her eyes from one smirking face to another.

Tower steps out from around the vertibuck the repair ponies were working on as he says with a slightly reproachful tone to his voice, “Now come on, Cross. You know the rules… No ordering BakeBuck’s Best without letting everypony else in on the order or there won’t be enough for everyone…”

As his grin turns wider, she jumps around, throwing the box in the air, as she screams, “The cheese is mine! Mine I say!” She grabs it in her mouth, to prevent further shadow jumping shenanigans, and runs at full speed past Gearing and towards the side room where she’d been working previously. Slamming the door shut behind herself with a loud metallic clang.

Tower takes a few steps further as he takes in a deep breath before bellowing out with his deep rich voice, “Stooormfront! We got a runner!”

The various members and personnel start pouring in the direction like a tidal wave as Tower starts barking out orders, “Jitterbug and Lightning, I want aerial surveillance!” The two pegasi mares salute and zip off and up towards the ceiling as they start providing over watch. “Hammer and Static, get that damn door open, and I mean like yesterday!” The two mechanics run over to the door and pop open the manual access hatch to the override as the other members run around grabbing one piece of equipment after another. “Mouse and Snake, you’re on surveillance! Keep an eye out in case she pops up elsewhere.” The two in the biohazard suits snap to attention and salute. The next moment they both burst into green flame as they turn into a pair of black birds and fly off to find a spot to spy from.

As everyone is running around to get ready for the breech of the door Tower yells, “A reminder folks, this mare’s got talent! If you find the target do not, I repeat do not engage directly without backup!”

The door pops open and Hammer yells as she peeks inside. “Tower, the room’s empty, no sign of the runner!”

Static yells out in dismay as she jumps into the room and forms a shield around herself with her magic, “The box is here, but the contents are missing! Repeat! No joy on the package!”

Tower nods and smirks. “That doesn’t mean anything. She couldn’t have finished the whole thing that quickly. She probably left the box as a decoy and took the package with her when she teleported away… But this place is only so big she’s gotta be hiding somewhere.”

Hard Hat comes running in from a side tunnel as he yells at Tower, “What the hell’s going on in here?!”

Tower looks over at him and grins as he replies, “Sir, we got a full on Bee Three on site.”

Hard Hat’s eyes go wide as he looks around. “Who the hell went and got an order without telling me?!”

Skip pops near him and salutes as he puts a stern expression on his face. “That traitor Cross! Wouldn’t even give me a slice! Not one!”

Hard Hat lets out a sigh as he shakes his head. He looks over to the side, behind Skip, and says, “Hey, Nitro…”

Gearing gives him a crooked grin as he asks, “Uh… yes, sir?”

Hard Hat looks around as noises and clangs echo out across the cavernous structure. “You willing to do what it takes to help keep this place from getting destroyed?”

Gearing salutes as he nods his head. “Yes, sir!”

Hard Hat lets out a sigh as he brings his gaze back to Gearing. “I’m going to need you to run an errand… It’s going to sound stupid. Even trivial… but there’s no such thing as a trivial order in this unit… You understand me?”

Gearing looks at him and gives a sheepish grin in response before he asks softly, “You want me to go fetch an order of BakeBuck’s Best for everyone else?”

Hard Hat’s eyes shoot wide as he looks around. “Holy shit you are a quick study! I won’t even ask how you’ve managed to acquire that kinda intel so soon after getting here.” He points off to the side and says, “Go talk to the Canaries and tell them we got a Bee Three. They’ll give you the proper list and get you up top.”

Gearing snaps to attention as he puts his goggles back on. “Yes, sir!” He turns and zips off as fast as his wings can carry him as he mutters to himself, “Who knew food could be so dangerous!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing and Dandy snake through a small warehouse building for a local distribution company. The place has been thoroughly looted of anything easily used, but the large plastic barrels of some unknown hazardous chemicals seem to have been left behind. Gearing’s eyes trail over them quickly as they are passing, taking note of the various warnings about poisoning and caustic nature of the barrels’ contents. Then there’s the ever present generic little campfire that looks so cutesy it doesn’t seem like it fits in among such serious warnings, except it’s generally understood to represent some level of flammability. But, unknown chemicals are not what he’s after. They might have a use. To somecreature. Sometime. But not to him. And not to Dandy.

Not currently.

They walk through the building slowly, checking their surroundings continuously, as they know, at any moment, things are going to go from quiet and still, to loud and dangerous soon. And it’s going to happen very quickly once they actually find their goal.

They creep up to the office front where the reception desk still has fliers toting their ability to make rapid deliveries to both retail stores or contractors. On the cover of the pamphlet a pony in coveralls, pushing a dolly with a large blue container on it, and staring out at the viewer with an overly enthusiastic open mouthed grin on their face has a speech bubble promising door to door same day delivery of various painting supplies, or you don’t pay delivery. The asterisks at the end of the statement makes Gearing’s eyes jump to the bottom of the flier where he smirks as he sees the micro print at the bottom that says:

*Only on orders placed same day and before 10:00am Monday through Friday. Orders placed outside specified window will be filled in the order they are received and will arrive in 7 to 10 business days. Not responsible for acts of nature, government, war, or industrial espionage that causes delays. Deposit non-refundable.

Gearing snickers as he shakes his head and continues over to the partially intact window storefront on the far side of the welcome area. He stands next to the small section of brick wall, that functions as the window’s frame on the far left side, as he peeks around the brick and above a set of fallen over wooden shelves towards the building across the street. Dandy stays low as she trots over. After she gets next to him, she squats down and practically lays on the floor as she looks under the tipped over sideways bookcase Gearing is looking over. Through the narrow gap between the brick foundation of the building they are taking refuge in and the cockeyed bookcase she can see the multistory stone building across the street pretty easily.

She looks up at him with just her eyes as she asks quietly, “You think that’s it?”

Gearing slowly nods his head, before he juts his chin out towards the building across the way. “Yeah… take a second look at that ponnequin decorating the far right corner of the building’s face.”

She raises an eyebrow, then turns and looks. She pulls out a small scope from a rifle she’d confiscated recently and starts looking through it towards where he’s directing her.

Across the street, on the far right side, is a ponnequin with a large plastic pumpkin as a helmeted head with a goofy paint job of a smile on it. An overly large creepy smile at that. The overalls and stuffing sticking out of the various cusps and limbs give it a vary scarecrow-esque feel to it. She is about to say something to ask what he’s referring too, when she looks at the base of where the ponnequin’s chest would be. She stares at it for a while, letting her eyes focus. And, after a few moments, she can see the problem.

And the truth.

The ponnequin is no ponnequin, but a pony that’s been mutilated and eviscerated. Around the base where the shirt tucks down into the overalls, a rotting ropey material hangs out. And, likewise, the hind legs seem to have bits of their entrails hanging down and out of the overalls, mixed in with the various plant materials.

Dandy puts the scope away as she looks up at Gearing and smiles. “So… How are we doing this one? You going to run out there and poke the hornet’s nest again, and let lil’ ol’ me sit back and pick them off while the idiots chase you around… Or we want to try something different this time?” She reaches over and points to his foreleg as she asks, “What’s that fancy PipBuck of yours telling you?”

Gearing looks down at her and smirks as he says, “Give me a second.” He kicks on his EFS then starts looking around where they are before focusing on the building across the street and smirking as he says, “That there’s a lot of red out there…”

“Red is dead, right?” she asks with a grin.

Gearing bobs his head around. “Sometimes… yeah… but not always.”

She tilts her head for a moment as she scrunches her mouth to the side. She waves a hoof between them as she says, “One of these days, you’re going to have to explain all of this bat shit crazy logic of yours… You got a device that literally tells you who wants to hurt and kill you, yet you don’t use it…” She goes back to looking across the street with a scowl as she says, “If it were me, I’d be using it all the time and kill any asshole that’d popped up.”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he says, “Well, first off… there’s legal issues… then there’s the fact that if I did…” he reaches over and taps her on the shoulder to get her attention before he finishes, “Half the bounty hunters in front of Megamart would be dead right now… A large portion of them want me dead, but most of them are smart enough not to try anything.”

She smirks then gives him a sweet smile as she asks, “Like those eight bozos that tried to ambush us? Didn’t turn out to well for them, did it?”

He reaches out a hoof towards her, and she dutifully bumps it with one of her own and grins as he adds, “No, it damn sure didn’t.” He looks across the street again as he says, “Okay, that building is pretty seriously fortified. Probably a local government distribution hub or something.” He frowns as he says, “As over engineered as most of the things in this part of the country… Understandably so, but still.”

His statement wasn’t an over exaggeration. On top of the building apparently being hardened during construction, considering how little damage it’s received from the climactic end of the war and the years of neglect since, every single one of the windows has been boarded up or otherwise secured. But not with simple wood. It looks like on most of the windows there were already, built-in as part of the original construction, windows with wire running through the glass, and thick wire mesh on the outside of it. Then other windows had metal cages built around the windows. Still others, that haven’t managed to keep the previous two, have been resealed up with sheet metal, barbed wire, and other improvised materials where they’d been previously breached before.

She looks at him as she asks softly, “Okay, now I’m a bit worried. If you’re worried before shit even starts, that’s gotta be a bad sign.”

Gearing looks over at her and gives her an easy smile. “I’m always worried… It helps keep me on my pinions. If shit goes bad, there could be far worse consequences than just me getting shot.”

She flushes as she avoids eye contact. “Th- this better not be you getting all protective again…” She swats her hoof blindly in his direction, smacking his shoulder and foreleg a few times as she says, “That was a one time thing… so don’t go thinking…” She swats him a few more times, faster, as she says, “I can take care of myself!”

He snickers as he says, “Dandy, yeah. You can. But it doesn’t mean you should run into an area to get shot intentionally. I’m far more bullet resistant than you. Me taking point and drawing agro makes far more sense.”

She frowns as she says, “You still get hurt, so don’t try that. I’ve seen it. Besides, you already let it slip, not all of your implants are working right any more. So you’re already behind the eight-ball. So what’s the difference between you and me getting hurt?”

Gearing leans over and looks her in the eyes as he reaches up and taps on his head. “A lucky shot from them that hits me in the head, is likely to just give me a headache, and piss me off…” He reaches over and gently taps the top of her black mane as he says softly, “A lucky shot that hits you in the head… means no more Dandy… understand?”

Hey eyes grow wide and she flushes harder as she swats his hoof away blindly. “H- hey! Don’t get fresh! This ain’t the time for that nonsense!”

Gearing goes back to looking out the window as he says, “So, how about we swing around the buildings, taking out anyone outside, together, and then we head inside through one of the entrances? Then we go floor by floor and clear them out. Sound good?”

Dandy looks him over for a moment before she calls out, “Gearing.” After he turns to look at her she stares him in the eye as she says, “When we went after Cookie, you’d said that you only left me behind because you trusted me to keep myself safe and take care of myself…” She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh, “And that if you didn’t think I could do that… you’d make me come with you, so you could keep an eye on me…” She opens an eye as she tilts her head and looks at him as she asks, “Is that what’s going on here? Come on, level with me, you owe me that much after all we’ve been through already.”

Gearing leans over and grins as he gives her a wink and asks, “Ohh… Now who’s getting possessive? Didn’t you say that was only a one time thing? Now who’s getting fresh bringing that up at a time like this?”

Her eyes go wide as she flushes more. She reaches over and starts rapidly tapping him on top of the head with a hoof as she says, “Oh my goddesses! Shut up! That’s not what I meant!” She hits him a few more times. “And you know it!”

Gearing chuckles a few times before he lets out a sigh. He looks over at the building across the way as he says, “I’ve learned to trust my gut over the years... And though some think I’m simply being paranoid, a pessimist, or a nihilist… I’m usually fucking right.”

She looks over at him and gives and uneasy smirk as she asks quietly, “Well what’s that say about this fucking world then, eh?”

Gearing looks her over then motions with his head towards the building across the street. “From what your contacts said about these bandits, they’re a bad piece of work. Horrible even. And something’s not sitting well with me about this.” He motions with his hoof towards her as he says, “So I want us to stick together. EFS has a tendency of clogging up my vision with way too much data that may or may not even be useful at the moment. So, with both of us together we can watch each others backs.”

Dandy stands up and grins at him as she asks, “So… what you’re saying is… you want me to protect you?”

Gearing looks her over, taking in the especially pleased smirk across her muzzle, then shrugs as he says, “Well, you took down all of those moron bounty hunters, when they had me surrounded, so you should be able to handle it.”

The grin falls off her face as she hangs her head by letting it flop down as she groans. “Oh shit… I see what you’re doing … ” She tilts her head as she asks softly, “You’re gonna make yourself a decoy and have me shoot them off you, right?”

Gearing’s smile grows wider as he says, “Well… if it works, why try and change it?”

She stomps her hooves a few times. “Ouuuu this is so pissing me off! And you know what the most frustrating part of all of it is?!”

Gearing shrugs as he asks, “Not getting to go in first?”

She leans in and glares at him eye to eye as she says, “Nooooooo… That what you’re saying actually makes sense and there’s not a damn thing I can say about it, against it, because you’re right!”

Gearing nods his head a few times before he gives her a sly smile. “Have you met me yet?” He flares out his wings and starts angling them over himself as he chuckles. “That happens a lot.”

She scowls and reaches over, tapping him on the chest with a hoof as she says, “Alright, you egotistical bastard… I’d shoot you for your dumb ass jokes, but you’re about to get shot up enough anyway, and I don’t want to waste the potions on it.”

Gearing lowers his wings before he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

She glares at him as she replies, “You better be. I’m not going to even try and haul your ass back to Megamart just to get patched up.”

They share a giggle as they sneak around and get back out into the street. Gearing, as advertised, takes point. His EFS has a large concentration of red bars inside of the stone building with the morbid corpse nailed to it. So much so that he can’t really keep track of their numbers. And one of the annoying drawbacks about the EFS rears its ugly head as he can’t tell if they are on the ground floor or up above him. Or below him for that matter. He walks towards the solid stone wall, on the other side of the capsized and burnt out wagons, and sneaks up to the front entrance as he waves for Dandy to hang back. He peeks around the decorative columns into the main front door, that’s more of a simple entryway now that the double doors that were once here have been removed, either intentionally or through damage, and there’s nothing but a short tunnel before you enter the first room of the structure. This first area is rather dark, but beyond that, in a back room, he can see the flickering glow cast on the wall of a low burning fire. But nopony at present. The inside looks absolutely trashed with garbage thrown everywhere and a variety of profanities written along the walls and ceiling. A couple of which actually draw a smirk from him as he thinks he might have to remember one of those for later use.

Not having any immediate targets, he pulls back outside and starts walking towards Dandy. Then right past her. He leads the way around the building clockwise, trying to see if there’s another point of entry that could be utilized. The side has no door at all, and is solid brick and large hunks of stone held together by carefully curated mortar. Coming around the next corner his head turns the other way as a few of the red dots on his EFS actually separate from the others.

He looks around himself quickly, and up to the windows above just to make sure, but then sneaks across the small alley to look around the edge of the adjacent building.

Sure enough, two mares stand not far away from the corner, with their backs to them. And it’s at this point that he realizes he really didn’t need the EFS to locate these two. Their smell is beyond compare, and not in a positive way. Sweat. Old Sweat. Booze Sweats. Dirt. Grime. Filth. Any of it. All of it. He’s not sure. But they reek. And need to learn proper bathroom hygiene because they smell like they took turns shitting on each other.

I’m glad our noses don’t work like a normal pony’s, or we’d have given our position away by puking by now. The little dark blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he looks at them with his muzzle twisted in disgust.

They’re not wearing any armor, and instead seem to be wearing cloth that’s been wrapped around them in various strips, or twisted into pseudo ropes and wrapped around them that way. Bits of rubber here and there are held together with nuts, bolts, and chains. And, after a bit, the noise he’s been hearing makes sense, as the two sit there giggling, and thrusting down at the ground in front of them. One of them has a spear of some kind. Although calling it that would be an insult to real spears. This thing is nothing more than a length of street sign pole that’s been cut at an angle to make a point. The other has a shovel.

That’s right. A shovel. Although it must be very sharp by the way they keep stabbing whatever poor creature they are in the process of mutilating.

Gearing looks over at Dandy then nods towards them as he steps around and pulls out the improvised axe made from the tire iron and sharpened metal he acquired from Cookie’s gang the day before. After giving it some tender loving Gearing care, the thing actually seemed rather useful. Especially after he added some extra weight to the back side to give it a bit more oomph. He jumps over towards them, fluttering up in the air for a moment, before coming down and at an angle with the axe held tight between his jaws and aimed at the back of the neck of the mare with the shovel.

Her head practically falls off and forward as the muscles are severed at the base of her skull, and he’s actually a bit thrown off balance as he wasn’t expecting it to go through that easy. The other mare looks over at the corpse that slumps next to her, and then looks up at Gearing.

They stare at each other for a moment as her giggling increases and she pulls the spear out of the ground. Her head, in its entirety, is hidden inside of a sack. Like a walking scarecrow herself. Except for the small holes cut into the fibrous brown bag for her to look out of. She lunges at him with the spear, aiming right for his middle as her giggle takes on a high pitched fervor.

Gearing steps to the side, using his foreleg to direct the small tip over and to the side, causing it to just barely miss him. And as the pointed end is passing him, rendering the weapon temporarily harmless to him, he steps in and swings with the axe. Aiming right at the base of her neck and the shoulder.

And she doesn’t move. Not at all. Not to avoid the blow. Not to try to block the blow. Nothing.

And as it sinks into her neck she lets out a loud squeal as the bones break and she hits the ground as her foreleg is no longer holding her up properly. But, despite the strike, his EFS still reads a red chevron in front of him. So he swings again. And Again. And Again. And the chevron doesn’t actually fade out until he’s sunk the axe straight into the back of her skull.

The area between his shoulders starts feeling cold and bothersome as his eyes dart around quickly and things, as a whole, feel off. And the little blue pegaus in his head is zipping around in a panic about something but not giving him any helpful information at the moment. The whole thing seems more than a little unsettling to him as he looks around the pair quickly then back at Dandy.

Dandy stares at him for a moment before asking quietly, “Are you okay?”

The fact that what he’d done seemed like overkill probably has a lot to do with the question he realizes, so he gives her a quick nod before walking past her again and continuing their circuit around the targeted stone building. This whole thing is just eating at him more. And he’s not quite sure why. Around the back side of the building, they do indeed find the rear entrance. A service door that was probably used for deliveries and the like. But, not anymore. There’s a knocked over piece of equipment, against a dumpster, that has likewise been knocked off of its wheels and pushed up against the door. And, to make matters even worse, he can tell from what little of the inside of the dumpster he can see around the overturned piece of equipment, that someone had run thick bolts through the bottom of the dumpster, into the door. Effectively barricading it from the inside as well. Coming around the last side, again, they find no entrance. Which causes him to look up at the roof and wonder if the roof access would be open. But for now they are going to try the front door.

And as they are coming around the corner headed towards the front door, they find out that they are most certainly not alone this time as a group of the bandits are walking out of the door together. All giggling and chuckling about some joke neither Dandy nor Gearing are privy to. All of the exiting ponies have the same kind of bags over their heads the last two had. But, despite how one would think, it doesn’t seem to affect their vision at all. As they all immediately look over at Gearing and Dandy and just start laughing louder.

Maybe it’s the smell. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in. Because they smell like shit. No, they smell worse than shit. They smell like whatever it is a pile of steaming shit would say something smells like when they are comparatively trying to say something smells like shit. They smell like the shit of shits… there we go. With extra mud butt and a side of vomit!

Dandy instantly wishes she had already put on her bandana and cast her air freshener spell on it when they ran across the first one, as she reflexively vomits a little in her mouth as the force of the stench hits her. A bit of bile to get the fight started off right. She’s very unhappy with them at the moment and quickly starts pulling out one pistol after another as the sack headed ponies turn and charge the pair.

“Get the pretty, get the pretty!” one of the mares cries out with glee as she jumps after Dandy with a crowbar that’s had large bits of metal welded along it’s long handle.

Dandy gives her a pair of parting gifts from the first two pistol boxes out of her coat as she jumps back and onto a guardrail that separates the sidewalk from the ancient road. As she’s jumping up and onto the overturned wagon, to avoid a couple of sharp improvised spears being thrown at her, she starts shooting down at the ones trying to skewer her as well.

Gearing uses the shaft of his improvised axe, and knocks two of the ponies’ forelegs out from under them with a forward swipe, more to knock them off balance than cause any actual damage, then he brings the axe up towards the mare swinging at him with what looks like a sword made out of a piece of guardrail. But, no matter. As much as that thing must weigh, Gearing’s mass is far greater. Which he brings to bear by disabling his gravity assist matrix, and putting it all into the swing of the axe. The guardrail sword gets forced back with the blow, causing the blade of his axe to slice down the front of the sack and cut deep into the mare’s muzzle underneath. But even though part of her muzzle literally falls away and out of the bag, along with an exorbitant amount of blood, she spins around and swings again the other way with a wildly reckless strike as it is taking way longer than any sensible pony would be willing to do in such close proximity to someone that just took an axe to their face. As they spin around the centrifugal force gets added to and applied to the guardrail sword. And as she’s bringing it across, towards Gearing’s side, her head rocks sideways, and she loses her grip on the blade as she goes limp. The weapon goes sailing and spinning around like a mower blade, hitting the brick wall and bouncing down the street a bit.

And as the weapon goes sparking down the street the mare with part of her muzzle missing gets hit in the head again. And again. And as she’s hitting the ground, another pair of rounds enter the back of her head.

Gearing looks over and notices the two he’d felled never got back up. And the reason why becomes clear as he notices the single shot boxes near their heads. As he’s turning around to smile and grin at Dandy, and maybe even pay her a compliment on well executed teamwork, another buck jumps out of the door and onto Gearing as he laughs through the sack on his head. Gearing rears up with the buck as the buck apparently keeps trying to head butt him. Gearing starts walking forward, pushing and driving the buck backwards with his hindlegs as he screams, “I’m so sick of you fucks!” He holds them back with one forehoof as he reaches up and grabs the sack on the buck’s head with his other and rips it off of them as he yells, “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

The sack comes off with a shredding tearing noise, and instantly the smell gets worse as the gray buck’s pelt is reintroduced to fresh air. And the festering wounds along his face are made plain to see.

The buck screams and screeches as he says, “Face! Mah face! Gimmie mah face! Face is mine!” He starts snapping his jaws at Gearing as he giggles. “Your face! Your face is mine! Tasty tasty face!” He snaps and leans in further, with a strength that Gearing just can’t comprehend for the buck’s size. “Gemmie, gimmie! I just want a taste, just a little one!”

Gearing’s eyes slowly start growing in size as he looks into the pinprick sized green irises, surrounded by a sea of yellow, of the gray buck trying to bite him. He holds the buck to the wall with the one hoof, not even trying to be gentle anymore as the desire and need for information has entirely been trumped by what’s before him. “Blood hunger…” Gearing says with a soft gasp. He looks over at Dandy and screams, “They’re infected with blood hunger!”

Dandy quickly shoots the buck in the head as she asks, “What the hell’s that? Looks like they’ve gone raider to me.”

Gearing holds the suddenly limp body up as he looks at it. “Y- yeah… that’s another thing they’re calling it… but it’s actually called Blood Hunger… It started in the zebra lands.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she asks, “You mean they didn’t just balefire bomb us, they sent this shit after us too?!”

Gearing shakes his head. “No… I- I don’t know how it got here… How it got out…” He looks up at the building as his eyes quickly dart around it’s surface. “We can’t leave this here.” He lets go of the body and lets it slump to the ground into a seated position against the wall before watching it slowly flop over sideways.

Dandy rolls her eyes as she says, “Well, no shit. That’s what we’re here for, right?”

Gearing looks over at her and asks, “Can you cover this door? I need to go check on something. Make sure nopony gets out, understand? But keep an eye on your surroundings too.”

Dandy hops over and down into the overturned wagon. She peeks through a rusted hole in it at him as she starts magically dropping a few of her special pistols on the ground around the front door. “Sure thing!” She pulls the ones she’d used back and starts reloading them as she says, “Don’t be gone too long. Raiders give me the creeps!”

Gearing takes off his cloak and jacket, tossing them over onto the guard rail before turning and heading over to the entrance. He advances much slower than before, not only to try and minimize any noise he might make, but to keep an ear out for any trouble coming this way. And to give him time to pay more attention to his environment in case there are any more unexpected surprises. The first thing he notices, now that he’s being hyper critical of everything, is that the entrance to the building actually, at one time, had a vestibule with not one but two sets of double doors. The ones on the outside had been so thoroughly removed that even the frame was gone. Somepony, some time, managed to rip it right out of the stone work, which is why he’d only thought it had one set of doors originally. But, no, upon closer inspection he can see the tapping holes in the stone work where the outer doors and their frame had originally been installed. The other frame is still intact, but as he’s entering the vestibule and looking it over he can see where the frame had been warped. Damage left over when the doors were ripped right off their hinges some time in the past.

Just beyond the void where the inner set of doors had once been, starts an area that looks like it had been some sort of diner. A long counter along the wall on Gearing’s right forms a giant ‘L’ shape, separating the work space behind it from where the customers would order and eat from. On both ends are little trot through counter high swinging doors where the staff could bring out items to anyone sitting at the tables and booths around the room’s perimeter. But, it seems that most of the counter space against the wall behind the dining counter is dedicated to trash and ancient small appliances. A couple waffle makers. A double sided grill for making grilled cheese, panini, or other quick grilled sandwiches. Although both of them have been stuffed full with various garbage. One of the double sided grills has had some sort of fleshy material crammed into it and smashed until it’s bulging out of it. He’s not sure, and not interested in knowing, the specifics of what kind of viscera it is. But he’s seen enough in his life time to get a general idea for what ‘mutilated guts’ look like. The waffle maker has been desecrated in its own way. With a doll of some kind being smashed in it and partially burned. Semi-melting and semi-scorching the doll’s dress and plastic head to the point that it’s far out of proportion from what it was originally.

He looks around but doesn’t see any hide nor hair of movement around the dining area. The whole time he’s advancing he keeps his eyes trained on the faintly flickering yellow glow through the door behind the counter to what he presumes is the actual kitchen of the diner. Especially since this front area doesn’t actually have a sink large enough to do the dishes such an operation would require. As he’s turning his head while slowly looking around, his eyes settle on the still lit cooler next to the counter where a variety of items would sit on shelves for purchase.

The worn signs across the glass front promise a two for one special on cold sandwiches. There’s a list advertising the diner’s daily lunch specials for drinks and wraps. Fresh made salads two for one on Tuesday. Truly some pretty good deals that probably kept the stock in the cooler rotating so quickly that nothing in there had the time to be anything other than fresh and delicious.

At least back when the establishment was still operating.

The current residents have turned it into a trophy case of some kind. A few random skulls, picked so clean that they are almost bleached white. Most of them are equine in origin. But one looks like a radhog. Maybe. It’s hard to tell with how it’s been decorated with filth. A few random toys placed in weird and lewd positions that would definitely make this anything other than a wholesome family establishment. Then there was the jar full of some kind of mix between congealed blood and maple syrup. Gearing’s not sure if the contents were poured in carefully to make the swirling and layering effects, or if that’s what’s become of it from the natural process of settling and being left alone.

Gearing continues down this side of the counter towards a little alcove in the wall opposite of the entry door and along the same wall that the glow from the back kitchen escapes through. He pauses as he notices the thick metal door with the reinforced security glass that leads to a set of stairs upwards. He peeks in, and sees yet another door at the top of the stairs beyond this first one. The one here has a lock and a keypad, but the keypad’s been destroyed, leaving no other choice but to unlock or lock the door with a key instead. He gently grabs the handle and gives it a slow turn.

And, to his surprise, it easily complies. He pushes the door open just a bit, and listens carefully as he peeks in around the door. His EFS is practically a wall of red at the moment. So many above him, or below him, it’s impossible to keep track. And, unlike other situations, he’s pretty damn sure it’s not just radroaches this time. He slowly closes the door, silently shutting it before easing off the handle and letting it secure itself again.

Turning to his left he slowly looks back and forth between the two bathroom doors that are set into the alcove. He tries the closest one marked ‘Fillies’ and it easily swings open.

Inside is nothing short of an abomination to equinity.

A bathroom that has been desecrated and violated in every way imaginable. The fumes are so concentrated that Gearing’s quite sure if he lit a match, the whole area would blow from the methane alone. He slowly closes the door. Staring at it for a moment, he gives silent thanks for not picking a steady career in plumbing. He might be a clockwork. And not have the same kind of problems most ponies would have from being exposed to such toxicity. But even he can only handle so much. He turns to the right and eases open the door to the ‘Colt’s’ bathroom with a wing, expecting to find yet another crime against Equus.

Instead there are actually a couple candles burning along the sink, with a pony taking position to unleash a blast from their back cannon. But, like the ‘ponnequin’ out front, this too is more than a simple scarecrow. They’re being propped up and held aloft with various rebar jutting out of the walls where it was jammed into and through the tile work. Held up like a full sized marionette. Oddly enough, the smell is not nearly as bad as the door he’d just closed. Which may be at least in part because of the low burning candles. But, even if they are being helpful, Gearing would prefer the building didn’t start burning down around his ears while he’s in it, so he uses his crystalline pinions and pinches off all of the small flames until the bathroom’s cast into darkness before he leaves it.

Gearing slowly turns around to head towards the kitchen, and comes face to face with a brown earth pony buck with a huge chest. So big that it’s stretching out his Equestrian Defense Force dress uniform. He glares out at Gearing from under his peaked service cap as he slowly chews on a massive unlit cigar. His eyes and focus trail around the diner slowly as he says in a deep drawling voice, “Well shit, son… They got themselves locked up tighter ‘n a virgin gnat’s pussy… Hell of a fortification here…”

Gearing blinks a few times before he asks softly, “Master Sergeant Rocky?”

The brown buck looks up, causing his tan mane to slide across his shoulders, as he stares at the ceiling above them. “If it was up to me, I’d get them damn cannon cockers on the line…” He lowers his head and looks at Gearing as he grins around his cigar. “And make Equestria a brand new parking lot…”

Gearing rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he walks past Rocky and starts heading towards the back kitchen as he says, “Yeah… not really an option right now, Sergeant…”

They both walk around the counter and towards the back, neither one making a sound as they walk back into the employee section of the diner and start heading into the kitchen. With Rocky staying just on the edge of Gearing’s peripheral vision the entire time.

Gearing steps through the threshold, and is hit by another wave of smells, and these are accompanied by heat. Not nearly as bad as the bathroom. But not exactly meadow flower fresh either. The kitchen has been absolutely destroyed, by any standard of measurement. He can’t help but chuckle thinking that all he’d have to do to wipe out this entire group, is let Cookie see what they’d done to this kitchen. But, of course, that buck’s already dead.

And good riddance to him. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in.

But using an enemy to take out another enemy is always an oddly satisfying tactic. Gearing retorts.

And the little blue pegasus can’t help but agree with the sentiment.

He slowly moves his focus around the kitchen as he takes in the view. The floor is covered in a variety of sticky rotting materials. Blood? Viscera? Simple mud? No way to really identify any particular part of it at the moment. Pots are full of various things, most of which don’t even make a bit of sense. Someone has a pot on the old destroyed stove with a traffic cone set into it upside down. There’s a fluid inside that once was water but has had a lot of other things added to it. Random twigs. There’s a can.

What kind of fucked up traffic soup is this? The little blue pegasus in his head asks with disgust twisting across his muzzle.

There’s a pot nearby with a lot of feathers around it and bits of meat on the inside. He’s not sure if it’s chicken, or what. But those feathers look awfully small. Maybe from an owl or pigeon or something? He’s not sure. The color of them doesn’t really help with identification either.

He turns his head and looks at the slowly burning low fire and takes in the view of the weird ingenuity of somepony. They’ve taken the industrial strength mixer, knocked it over onto its side, and hooked it up with a giant rod of some kind. Then messed with the power systems to the point that it’s barely getting any power at all. But, apparently enough to function for what their purposes were. As the rod continuously rotates along the length of its central axis right over the fire that’s illuminating the kitchen.

The fire in question has been built in a bathtub that is being used as an improvised fire pit. But, it seems to work well enough as the pile of coals and low fire continuously roasts the sizzling thing that’s being rotated by the mixer.

Gearing walks over and looks the small creature over as he tries to figure out what it is or was at one point. It’s too small to be a radhog. Wrong shape too as far as he can figure out. It’s kind of hard to tell without the head, it being skinned and splayed out, and it’s limbs having been cut off somewhere at the knee, leaving the paws, claws, or whatever it had for feet, no longer around to help with identification.

Gearing continues walking around the burning bathtub until he gets to the other side where a flickering electric lamp lays on the ground near a table in the dark corner. He reaches down and grabs it, picking it up and looking at it as he debates on keeping the battery operated device for his own purposes.

But his eyes jump from it, to what the light revealed when he lifted it up over the perpetration table. There on the table is an array of butchery equipment, all bloody and disgusting with congealed blood and signs that this station has been getting used for quite a while, with nary a thought turned towards any kind of cleanup. Many feathers, of various colors, lay scattered across it and the floor at his hooves. And there, in the center of the table, but pushed far back near the wall, is the head of a unicorn mare. Her face has had many pockmarks administered by bites that look equine in nature. Her eyes have been plucked out, somehow, and replaced with a cue ball in one socket and a black ‘8’ ball in the other. Her tongue has been removed and her mouth is currently being held open with a metal four-sided cheese grater.

But as bad as that is to uncover, what’s worse is the horn adorning her head. Or, more specifically, what is adorning her horn.

There in plain sight, is another head. Far smaller, and unquestionably pony in origin. So small that it actually is being held aloft by being forced down and skewered on the mare’s horn. Such a little equine head. Gearing’s eyes steadily grow wider as he looks it over and many things run stampeding through his mind’s eye.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

Gearing slowly turns his head, and looks at the bathtub fire again. At the little creature slowly rotating and roasting on the industrial mixing spit. He quickly mentally transposes the tiny filly’s head onto the rotating corpse, and fumes start coming from his nostrils as he can do nothing else besides mentally acknowledging the size ratio. He quickly starts grabbing the pots full of ‘soup’ and brackish water and chucks them into the improvised fire pit. Gearing grabs a sheet that had been used to keep various bloody chunks together, sending the bits flying across the room without any care, and dunks it into the last cooking pot that still is full of liquid, before throwing the now soaking wet cloth on top of the fire pit as well. He uses his wings to spread the wet cloth across the coals’ surface, smothering the entire thing before grabbing what was left in the final pot and dumping that on top as well. The entire exercise causes a hissing steam to rise up out of the bathtub from the drowned fire. With his hooves still slick with disgusting filth, he rests his forehooves on the edge of the tub as he bows his head and tries to think of what he should do.

“Well,” Rocky says from the darkness on the other side of the smothered fire. Gearing raises his head and makes eye contact with him as Rocky stares back from under his pitched service cap with that oppressive glare of his. “Ya know what they say about relying on single point entry…”

Gearing’s lip curls into a malicious smirk as he says, “Yeah… I do, Sergeant…” He starts quickly making his way out of the kitchen as he grumbles, “Only one way out too…”

Gearing hurries out of the kitchen and out of the building entirely. As he’s coming out he yells over to Dandy, “I’m going to go check on something. Do not let anyone out of this door, understand me?”

Dandy pokes her head up out of the overturned wagon and tilts her head. “Uhhh… okay?” She looks back and forth before she asks, “Is that fancy PipBuck of yours telling you anyone is anything other than red?”

Gearing shakes his head as he turns around and looks up to the roof. “Nope. All red.” He looks over at her and says with a scowl, “And forget what I said earlier… In this case: red is dead, and don’t bother to ask questions afterwards.”

Dandy grins widely as she nods and ducks down into the wagon. “Hot damn! I love easy jobs!”

Gearing flies up to the roof and finds that it’s been pretty much abandoned except for the various trash and debris that’s been put out there. There is a roof door access. But it’s been sealed up pretty thoroughly. The door opens outwards, and he’s pretty sure this is the only other way out. He grabs a refrigerator that’s had its door removed, and is tilted on its side. He sets it in front of the door, sideways, and quickly starts loading it with the various debris from the roof. Bricks. Cinder blocks. Bucket full of dirty water. Wait. No. That’s diarrhea. Excellent. All of it gets set in front of the door to provide as much weight as possible. After finishing the refuse barricade, he takes off and flies across the street, dropping in through the back door of the distribution company they snooped through earlier and making his way into the shipping department. He starts slowly examining the various large plastic barrels, then testing their weight with a hoof as he rocks them side to side. It doesn’t take him long to find a couple barrels that are sufficient for his goal and he starts grabbing them one at a time. Gearing activates his Gravity Assist matrix then begins a route where he runs a barrel across the street and places them along the side of the stone building before zipping back for another.

A series of pop sounds divert his route after dropping off the second barrel, causing him to jump around the corner with his rifle drawn.

“You okay, Dandy?!”

“Yeah, no problem, two more down!”

“Great, I’ll be done in a minute!”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but hurry it up please!”

“Right!” Gearing turns and zips back to the building. After grabbing the final barrel he doesn’t simply return to the side of the building with the others, he takes it straight to the roof. After depositing that one, he grabs the remaining barrels from the staging area at the side of the building, and flies straight up to store them on the roof. Even with his normal strength, this would usually be a slow task as he knows he wouldn’t gain nearly as much altitude as quickly as he’d like. But with his implant taking over the work of carrying the vast majority of his own weight, this becomes a far more manageable task. One at a time he carries the heavy duty plastic containers up to the roof. After finishing that quick relay and getting his supplies up top, he slowly explores the roof as he tries to find the maintenance access section he’s looking for.

He actually has to clean up parts of the roof to even find it, as the cage containing the utility access had been turned into a makeshift shrine to scarecrows and dolls, all laid out over sheets of cloth and rotting hide. All centered around a rubber traffic cone that has a doll’s head resting on the top, with the other dolls circling around it like they are worshiping it. He throws the coverings aside, grabs the padlock for the door labeled ‘Fire Marshal’, and rips it right off. Though the lock itself proves stronger than the metal cage as the attachment points alone gave way instead of the lock simply breaking.

Gearing looks at the lock in his fetlock, then at the cage, then back and forth a few times before shrugging and throwing the lock over his shoulder. Not what he was trying to do. But it’ll do.

He starts running down the various pipes, until he finds the shut off, overflow, and main access. He begins working through the system, and triggers the purge cycle, and can’t help but smile as he sees a hatch pop open not far away along the pipe and water starts gushing out across the roof. It’s disgusting and has been sitting and festering in the pipes and pressure charging reservoir for centuries. But after a while the pipes entirely empty and he can hear the pumps trying to work to push out nothing.

After evacuating the pipes of a good portion of the water, and reducing it’s pressure, he closes it back off. Gearing quickly opens up the much smaller pipe access where maintenance ponies apply dyes for tracking down leaks or chemicals to winterize the plumbing if and when they aren’t going to use it for an extended period of time.

He digs around in the debris from the shrine and pulls out the rubber traffic cone. Lopping off the very tip of it with his axe, Gearing looks through the inside and decides the filth level is acceptable enough before he crams it’s narrow end into the pipe access and forces it into place. One by one, he rips open the screw tops of the large plastic barrels, where a pump would normally be installed to gain access to the fluid, and starts pouring the clear liquid contents into the traffic cone. It takes him a bit of finagling as he has to hold the heavy plastic container aloft, and control its flow, as he directs it into the improvised funnel. To make matters worse, even the heavy duty plastic has a habit of bowing and warping under its own weight. The added weight of it’s contents just exacerbates the problem and causes more headaches by the moment. But he’s determined to see this through. And Gearing’s not going to let a little thing like uncooperative chemicals get in his way.

A few more pops come from down stairs. A couple at first, followed by a rapid fire chain sounding almost like a firing squad or a low caliber machine gun. Gearing runs over to the side and looks down to see a new group of bodies in front of the door. Dandy looks up at him and gives him a salute with a wide grin across her muzzle from her hiding place within the wagon wreck out front.

He knows he’s running out of time and runs back. After getting the last barrel into the system, with a good portion of it pouring out along the roof, he recloses the system and then jumps off the edge of the building. He doesn’t even bother opening his wings until he’s nearly at ground level. But, as he’s about to reach the ground, he does fan his wings and banks hard to the right, towards the door, and the corpses in front of it.

Dandy smirks at him for his aerial display, then raises an eyebrow and scrunches her muzzle as she sees him grab two of the corpses and run into the building with them. As he’s coming back out he points over to the delivery warehouse across the street as he says, “Grab my stuff and fall back over there. You need to be away from what’s coming down.” Then he grabs another pair of corpses and goes back in.

Her eyes bug out and she quickly looks around for immediate threats before she jumps out of the wagon. She keeps her eyes on the sky as she zips over the collection of weapons she’d had laid out along the ground and, the moment the last one is in her pocket, she grabs his blanket and jacket off the guardrail with her telekinetic field and runs across the street as she says, “I’ll cover from over here!”

As she’s running across the street she tosses out a couple of her single shots across the crumbling road way before she bolts back into the office area. She takes up position where Gearing had originally, hiding behind the bit of wall while peeking out over the catty corner tilted bookcase.

As Dandy’s running away, Gearing runs over to the stairwell and starts looking the security door that leads upstairs over again. It’s been propped open by somepony with an empty snack cakes box, probably one of the ones that had just exited. He takes a peek at the other side of the door, and finds that the lock is a double sided keyed entry. Why they would do something like this, he’s not sure. He’s not even sure what kind of building would need to have so much physical security to it. But, that’s a mystery for another day. Right now there’s something he needs, and this is the first option available to him.

He closes the door securely again, knocking the trash, that had been kicked down the stairs and had been keeping the door partially open, out of the way to do so. He takes a look at the lock, then pulls out a few of his tools. Most ponies doing nefarious things with unlawful entry simply use their tools to unlock doors. But, that’s not all that’s possible.

The little blue pegasus in his head grins as his ears practically turn into horns, Because the true masters know how to clean up behind themselves… and lock the door back when they’re done!

Gearing fiddles with the lock a bit longer, and then hears a satisfying click and a deep kerthunk. With the tools still in his mouth he reaches up and tries the handle. Turning it, and jiggling it, and pushing on the door. He shakes it vigorously with the handle turned, and can’t help but smiling widely around the tools in his mouth as the door stays firmly sealed.

He runs back into the kitchen and starts examining along the walls. In the pantry section, that’s been turned into a collection of broken bottles, and empty wooden boxes, he finds the breaker box. He moves the shelves out of the way until he finds what he’s looking for.

Hoofington Fire Department Emergency Access

Authorized personnel only, violators can be punished in accordance with Equestrian legal-

Most of the rest of the paper on the outside of the panel had been ripped off long ago. Whether that was done intentionally or just collateral damage from everything being thrown around over the years is impossible to tell. Though he doesn’t even see the rest of the paper anywhere in the room. He has a slight pang of worry as he opens up the access panel and hopes the missing paper doesn’t have some information that he really needs. He checks the panel’s contents over, and then pulls out a cable from his tool pouch and connects the control panel to his PipBuck. His eyes dart back and forth from his PipBuck screen to the panel as his ears constantly turn and twist to try and catch any glimmer of sound that might be a hint from somepony that they’d discovered the stairwell door has been locked.

He scowls and starts moving around wires within the control box, but nothing seems to be working. In a moment of immature frustration, he smacks the box a few times with a wing tip. After a few sparks come out of the control panel a feed of information starts appearing on his PipBuck.

The little pegasus in his head floats around with his hindlegs crossed like he’s sitting causally midair as he nods sagely. Ahhh… yes… the percussive maintenance method of troubleshooting and problem solving… truly a tool of the masters…

Gearing quickly starts cycling through the various menus and control aspects of the box. Then, after finding the override subsection, he quickly starts tapping in some commands of his own.

A smile slowly grows across his muzzle as he double checks the time and inputs it.

Hoofington Fire Department Public Safety Test

Initiate Full System Check, Fire Marshall?: Y/N

Y

Confirm.

Duration of Test? ( Input Time in Minutes, Use ‘0’ to Run Until Manually Discontinued):

0

Confirm.

Ready to Initiate Fire Suppression System Test. Begin Test?: Y/N

Y

Confirm.

Initiating Test of the full Fire Suppression system. Test will continue to run until the test is manually canceled.

Test will begin in 60 Seconds…

59

58

Gearing quickly disconnects from the system and runs back out the front door. As he’s grabbing the corpses of those that they had killed out front, he starts chucking them in through the entry doorway roughly. Causing them to crash over the dining countertop and quickly making the diner look like the aftermath of a college dorm party as the bodies are lazily hanging over various pieces of furniture. In awkward positions that they would be sure to feel tomorrow.

If they weren’t already dead.

Gearing yells across the street as he’s still hefting the bodies through the air with indifferent tosses, “Dandy! You still got that special ammo that that black buck had?”

Dandy pops her head out enough that he can see her clearly as she replies, “Yeah. Haven’t sold it. Figured it would be worth more using it than selling it for less than I’d have to buy it back for later!”

“Got anything that’ll shoot one of the orange or reds on you?”

Before she can reply a mare’s pleasant voice comes over the speakers both inside of the diner and outside.

“Attention employees and customers! This is your friendly local Hoofington Fire Department service assistant. In a moment we will be beginning a test of this building’s fire management system. Please remain calm, you are in no danger, this is only a test. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a great day!”

Dandy looks over at the building with an eyebrow raised as she asks quietly, “What the hell?” then she shakes her head. “Yeah, I got one of their rifles. Figured the ammo wouldn’t be worth a lick of salt without something to shoot it with.”

Gearing starts sidestepping as he’s pointing at the front door. “Okay, load one up, and get ready to fire, but only when I tell you to.” Then he turns and zips off around the side of the building.

Inside the building, one by one, the above fire sprinklers being going off. At first a few of them simply sputter and spit, but most of them begin spraying out their charge into tiny droplets in every direction. Just as they were designed. And just as they were intended to do, when they were built and installed over two hundred years ago. A testament to earth pony engineering and manufacture.

Again the voice of the mare comes over the speakers throughout the building:

“Attention employees and customers! This is your friendly local Hoofington Fire Department service assistant. We have begun the test of this building’s fire management system. Please remain calm, you are in no danger, this is only a test. Though, if you feel the desire to do so, please make your way to the nearest exit in a calm and orderly fashion, and use this opportunity to practice your company’s emergency exit procedures. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a great day!”

As he’s coming back with the pair of mares he’d killed earlier with the axe, the final of the corpses, he whips them in through the door into the dining area with such gusto they travel most of the way to the stairwell up. He looks in and watches as the liquid continuously mists down and sprays over everything. But, over the hissing sound of that, he starts hearing a banging and thumping coming from the security door as the ponies in the upper floors have apparently came down to try and get out of the indoor rain. Only to discover that the door had been locked on them. Even from his position in the vestibule he can hear them beating on the door and trying to line up kicks to knock the door open. A difficult feat, considering they are going against the swing of the door, but not impossible given enough time.

He’s not sure how much force it took to rip out the front doors, frame and all, nor the inner doors. But he doesn’t fool himself into thinking that door will hold forever. Eventually they are going to figure out a way of putting a hole through it, breaking the lock, or, possibly, unleash something with enough explosive force that the door does indeed come off its hinges. Gearing flies back by the overturned wagon, pulling out his rifle and getting on the other side of it as he sights down his rifle at the doorway.

“So, what’s the big deal? When you want me to start shooting?” Dandy yells from her position on the other side of the street.

Gearing looks at her over his shoulder, and yells back, “Get ready!”

She pulls the rifle up with her magic and the requested ammunition already locked and loaded as she yells, “What do you want me to shoot?! I don’t see anypony; are they coming?”

Gearing points in the door with a wing and yells back without looking, “Anything inside of those doors. Just get the round inside the building. You’ll hit what you need, trust me.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Assholes think just because I’m a unicorn that I have magical aim… well… We’ll see.” She looks around a bit before she asks, “Well, how about when?!”

Gearing chuckles and keeps his eyes on the growing puddles inside of the building that are spreading out so far they’re actually starting to come out of the door. As a familiar sweet scent greets his nose he yells back with a smile, “Anytime you’re ready! But the sooner the better!”

Dandy scowls at him as she mutters, “Ask me to do something and being all vague about it. I don’t see what a single round is going to do. Even one of these explosive rounds… But, whatever.” She hovers the rifle up and starts aiming through the sights.

As she’s still trying to aim Gearing yells, “And make sure to duck after ya shoot!”

She scrunches up her muzzle to the side, and then steps to the side as she uses more of the wall to block herself as she keeps looking at the main door. She fires blindly, with a frown on her muzzle at wasting such expensive rounds, right into the doorway.

The round goes sailing right through the doorway, and she’s about to say something snotty about telling her to do vague things and expecting results, but doesn’t. And, even if she did, nopony would hear her anyway.

Because a moment after the round entered the diner, it struck a hard surface and, as they tend to do, the explosive round detonated, blowing apart the piece of furniture that, at one time, had been a booth where ponies sat to eat, drink, and socialize. But as heated of topics as might have been brought to fruition there before, they pale in comparison to the heat that’s unleashed with the round’s burst.

Dandy’s eyes go wide as the flash of light inside of the doorway only precedes a much bigger flash by a microsecond. Just enough to perceive, before a fireball erupts and flashes out into the street. In front of the blast, a pressure wake creates a wave strong enough that her short black hair goes whipping backwards as she stands there agape at what she’s just done. But, as she sees the fireball coming across the street following after the pressure wave, she quickly ducks down and cowers behind the brick wall and debris in the office as she tries to avoid getting burnt.

But, the fireball didn’t reach that far, as the fumes from what had been released hadn’t traveled far either.

After the noise dies down, and the air’s stilled, she sits up and looks outside to see the building across the street has turned into a towering inferno. Throughout every level of the structure, fire spews out around the cracks of one window or another, with the intense flames quickly burning off all of the advertisements and other prewar memorabilia that had been adorning the building. Her eyes dart along the roadway for a moment, but then she sees that Gearing had already gotten up and walked over to the side of the building. And he’s currently looking up at the windows where a couple of them had been more recently fortified, with lesser materials, as he keeps an eye on the front and right sides of the building simultaneously.

Dandy walks over towards, him holding her rifle in the air with her telekinetic field, as she giggles, “Holy shit, I take it back! These rounds are amazing! Why didn’t you tell me it could do something like that? I could have accidentally killed myself!”

Gearing keeps his eyes straight ahead on the corner of the building. As he watches his EFS, the various red indicators in his view range run around quickly in one direction than the other. While others simply fade from existence. One after another. His vision starts clearing as one by one the occupants succumb to the smoke, flame, and heat. “It can’t… All that did was ignite the Benzene.”

She looks over at him and asks, “Benzene?” Her eyes go wide as she asks, “You flooded the place with Benzene!?”

Gearing slowly nods as he sits watching the various colors of the chemical fire, along with everything else that’s being consumed, as the building steadily burns down with it.

Dandy looks back and forth slowly as she asks, “Soooo… on a scale of ‘Zero’ to ‘Burn Their Fucking House Down’ … exactly how pissed off are you right now?”

A moment later, a window on the second floor that had been reinforced with metal and wood, one of the newer modifications replacing the older better securements, gets knocked outwards by something large and heavy being thrown at, and through, it. A burnt corpse of a pony hits the ground with the scattered metal and burning wood. A split second later a mare comes jumping through the window to escape the fire herself. Her tail and mane is quickly burning, along with most of the rubber armor over her body, and her fur and hide is likewise smoking as she hits the ground. The audible snap and awkward twisting of her right foreleg is a clear indicator that she broke her leg in the fall. But she has greater concerns at the moment as she starts thrashing around on the ground. She rolls over the ground one way after another as she bellows out in pain and fear as she tries desperately to put herself out in the radioactive mud puddles and dirt.

Until a round from Gearing’s 10mm pistol stops her screaming mid note and puts an end to her thrashing.

Gearing gets up and walks over as he keeps looking up at the building and taking note of the quickly declining number of red chevrons on his EFS display. He trots up, picks up her fresh corpse, and then spins around in a circle as he hops up with his wings and throws her right back through the window from where she came and into the multistory inferno. Then he doesn’t even touch down as he does the same maneuver with the charred corpse that had been used as an organic battering ram to clear the mare’s way to freedom and supposed safety. After returning them to the flame’s embrace, he lands and sits calmly right back where he had been a moment before. Staring at the building. Watching it burn. All while keeping a close eye on the few red chevrons somehow still left standing.

Dandy looks between the building and Gearing a few times before raising a hoof in the air and giving it a bit of a foreleg pump. “Right. Good talk.” Then she turns and leaves him to himself as he sits watching as the building seems to try it’s best to burn straight down to its foundations.

A few minutes after Dandy had left, Rocky walks out of the shadows to Gearing’s right and sits down next to him, watching the fire as he slowly chews on his cigar. After a few moments of silence, Rocky tilts his head to look at Gearing sideways as he asks, “You a’right?”

“No,” Gearing responds flatly without even looking at the brown buck in the EDF uniform next to him.

“Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want, and you can’t do what you’d prefer.”

“I know…”

“Sometimes you gotta do the things you really don’t wanna do,” Rocky turns his head and leans towards Gearing as he says, “an we both know that.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier,” Gearing replies flatly while staring at the fire in front of them.

“No… no it doesn't…” Rocky agrees with a firm shake of his head. “An if it ever does get easy… that’s when you got yourself a real problem”

“I guess it means I’m not there yet, cuz it still hurts,” Gearing mutters.

“Yup. If you can still feel pain, it means you’re still alive, and not dead yet.”

“Feel dead inside sometimes though, like what’s even the point of it all?”

“And what’d you just say?” Rocky asks as he leans towards Gearing again.

“…It still hurts…”

“Which means?”

“Not dead yet.”

“That’s right…” Rocky confirms with a slow nod. “Not dead yet… and what’s that mean?”

“That I can keep moving,” Gearing says softly as he hangs his head and closes his eyes.

“That’s right… so just keep movin’.”

“Towards what end though?”

“Shiiiit… why the hell you asking me?” Rocky gets up and starts walking away as he adds, “Go talk to some officer… big shit like that’s above my pay grade… That’s what they keep tellin’ me anyway…”

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Author's Note

A quick note. The sudden appearance of a character here is not an oversight, and don't worry, you haven't missed anything if you've read the chapters in order. This was intentional.

58 Poking the Bear

The return trip back to Megamart has had a decidedly different feel to it from when Dandy and Gearing had made the first leg of the trek that morning. Despite what they were going to do, they had a pretty good atmosphere around them as they had chatted along the way. They had been rather upbeat and even casually chatty at times.

The way back is nearly the exact opposite of that.

Where they once had a good rapport going, and had a growing sense of anticipation, all with a sense of positive energy, now they don’t. The return trip has been oppressively quiet between the two as they make fast progress back. Dandy knew there was something wrong, given Gearing’s change in attitude, the moment he didn’t even reply to her while watching the building burn down.

She knew something upset him. Badly. Though she doesn’t know what exactly. And she simply let him sit alone in front of the fire until he was ready to go. But once he finally moved, he didn’t stop and barely said a word. And even those few words he’s spared along the way were only if prompted by her and short lived at that.

Until they are cresting over some rubble, and they get a clear line of sight from it to Megamart. Or, more specifically, the area around and in front of Megamart.

Gearing’s right wing zips out from under his cloak and he holds it up in front of Dandy as he says in a low rumbling tone, “Something’s wrong… keep your head on a swivel…” Then he slowly starts walking out of the rubble again and Dandy finally gets a clear look beyond, where she sees the area that’s drawn out such concern from Gearing.

For days, ever since the first broadcast, the area in front of Megamart had been a small shanty town of its own. A camp of would be bounty hunters that ebbed and flowed as new arrivals came, and others left. All in search of the same thing: the largest bounty in Hoofington history. Security.

But no longer.

The encampment lays almost entirely barren, except the tell tale signs from prolonged camping of hundreds, if not thousands, of individuals over the course of just a few days. Mostly scattered debris, trash, and other items that were discarded before the previous owners took their leave. And, judging by a few of the spots, they did so in a real hurry.

Gearing takes a slight lead with Dandy to his right side and a half step out of perfect sync with him. They had avoided the camp on the way out, because they didn’t want to run into any problems with the herd of greedy ponies. But, with the vast majority of them gone, the pair goes ahead and cuts straight through the barren encampment. True to the wasteland, several ponies scurry around sifting through what was left behind by others to try and find anything of value. But Gearing pays no real attention to them as they are cutting through the various encampment locations.

Gearing says flatly, with his head still forward and covered by the ratty blanket turned cloak, “Don’t worry, that’s just Swift.”

Dandy looks at him, and then looks forward. After rotating her head back and forth, she starts looking up and a moment later she sees a moving speck zipping around above Megamart, before it starts getting bigger and coming in their direction. A moment later she recognizes the sky blue speck and can’t help but wonder how Gearing was able to see her from this distance with the sky so cloudy.

But Swift is definitely coming their direction at a steady clip.

As Dandy and Gearing are traveling through the encampment, and walking by a camp site that’s still got a few ponies sitting around, the occupants watch them pass silently.

One of the mares to Gearing’s left calls out with a cheerful tone from the campsite he’s passing, “Hey! Aren’t you the two that took down that psycho Cookie?”

Gearing stops mid stride, as the faintest smirk crosses his muzzle, and he starts turning his head to look at them. “Yeah, that’s us. Why-”

Ker-BLAM.

Gearing’s comment is interrupted, and drowned out, as the relative silence of the immediate area is torn asunder by the sudden roar of a shotgun blast.

The fabric over the left side of Gearing’s head rips apart, and some small fragments of the mottled cloth go flying and fluttering through the air as the many pellets rip right through it in a tight cluster. Gearing’s head jerks to the right from the sudden force, with him stumbling and turning away from the blind sided blow as he brings his left forehoof up to hold and shield his face from any more blasts.

As he’s recoiling from the blast, turning away and ducking down, Dandy’s coat flies wide in an arc like a cape behind her as she looks over Gearing at the one who’d fired. As a dozen of her pistol boxes come zipping out of their individual holsters, a sky blue blur zips from above and crashes into the gray unicorn mare with a horn which has the same greenish overglow covering the shotgun that just shot Gearing.

Swift plows into the gray mare from above, as she simultaneously unleashes her powerhoof on the floating shotgun. The ancient 12 gauge firearm fractures to pieces as the wood splinters and the metal practically disintegrates and scatters from the strike. The two go tumbling sideways from the force and before the pieces of the old shotgun hit the soil, Swift already has the gray mare pinned to the ground on her back and starts knocking her head violently back and forth with her PipBuck ladened foreleg. Swift’s not even being kind enough to simply use her powerhoof and put an end to it with a single blow like she is more than capable of doing.

With Swift having an overwhelmingly superior position over the perpetrator, Dandy takes the initiative and points her pistol boxes at the other ponies standing and sitting around the general proximity of the camp. All four of the individuals suddenly find themselves staring down three barrels simultaneously as they don’t even have time to really react to what’s going on.

An older buck that was walking by from the other direction sits down and throws his forehooves in the air as he shakes and yells in a squeaky voice, “Oi! I didn’ do nuthn’!

A mare that was sorting through a pile of garbage at an adjoining camp stands frozen, with her head low to the ground as her eyes bug out and she says shakily, “Hey, uh… M-mind if I …. Just go?” Her eyes dart from one of the little boxes to the other as she tries not to move a muscle, despite the uncomfortable position she’s currently in.

Dandy snarls, “Consider this a precaution, I’m tired of getting ambushed by morons! If you really had nothing to do with it, then sit there and shut up and let us sort this out!”

The entire time cries, groans, and screams accompany meaty slaps as Swift holds the shooter down and pummels them with her bare hoof. After getting a few good enough smacks that the gray mare starts going limp, instead of even trying to struggle anymore, Swift screams out, “Gearing?! Gearing, are you okay?! Answer me dammit!”

“He’s still standing, and swearing, so he’s gonna be fine. Give him a minute!” Dandy yells back.

Gearing slowly rotates back towards them as he holds his forehoof to his face and continues ranting and rambling, but far more clearly and audibly, “Dammit! Right in the ear! Why does shit keep fucking with my left ear!?” He reaches up with a wing and starts working the crystal pinions of his wings in the crevices in his face. “The bitch poked me in the eye! I mean, who does that?! Great! Just great! Now my eye’s not wanting to work right! I hate it when this happens!” Gearing keeps his face low to the ground as he keeps trying to work the offending fragments out of his gears and plates with his pinions functioning as tweezers. Sometimes the crystals crack and the tips snap off, given this is not how they were intended to be used, and that just makes Gearing grumble and snarl all the more.

Dandy smirks as she looks at the ponies around them. “Only he would consider a 12 gauge to the face as ‘poking me in the eye’…”

“Hey, it still fuckn’ hurt!” Gearing replies defensively.

“You done fucked up!” Swift snarls. “I’m gonna break every bone in your body, then kill you once I’m done getting some exercise!”

Gearing pulls his hoof back from his face enough to look at her and scream, “No! Don’t!” as his head is still bowed and he’s still trying to work pieces of pellets out of his face plates and gears. Especially focusing on, and around, his left eye.

“Why?” Swift pauses beating on the barely conscious mare and looks over at him as she scowls. “You wanna do it yourself?” She purses her lips to the side as she bobs her head around. “I guess that’s fair… since she tried to kill you and all…” She looks at the gray mare, using a hoof to make her look her in the eye and grins maliciously as she says, “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for this one! No one fucks with my friends and family!”

Dandy’s eyes jump from one pony to the next, looking them over in turn, as she also takes in their surroundings to make sure no one else is planning on sneaking up and joining in on the fun at the moment. Her eyes settle on the other two ponies, a dark green earth pony mare and an ocher stallion, that haven’t said anything yet as they glare at Swift.

Dandy taps them both on the side of the head with a pistol each, to get their attention, before she says flatly, “Don’t even think about it.”

The ocher buck looks at her, glancing back and forth between the one small box pointed right at his head, and her eyes as he says, “Real easy to act all tough when you’re holding a gun to somepony’s head.”

Dandy smirks as she tilts her head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she,” she nods towards Swift, “could make all of you blood stains. At the same time. But I’d rather make sure what’s going on.” She shrugs. “Look at it this way, as long as I’m holding you at gunpoint, she won’t feel the need to scramble your brains across the ground.”

The mare that had been sifting through trash darts her eyes around from one gun pointed at her to another as she says shakily, “I’m not involved in this… really… I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Dandy replies flatly while still staring at the other two that she’s pretty sure were with the gray mare a few moments ago, “That dumb ass hurt my partner, and none of you are going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this.”

The ocher stallion glances over at Gearing as he asks, “How the hell is he still standing anyway? A 12 gauge blast like that should have taken his head off, helmet or no…”

Dandy grins at them and tilts her head as she says sweetly, “Oh… that’s because you don’t know who you’re fucking with… I do… but I’ll let him tell you as much as he feels like sharing…”

Gearing starts walking towards Swift, deciding to take the opportunity to get things started in a new direction. He walks over next to Swift and looks down at the gray mare, who’s still being pinned by Swift, and asks point blank, “Why the hell did you sucker punch me with a 12 gauge?”

The gray mare looks up at him through an already swelling eye as blood comes out with her coughing. “Had to…” She takes in a ragged breath before finishing with a groan, “You’re gonna kill everypony.”

Gearing, still holding the left side of his head with his hoof looks down from the darkness of his cloak as he asks, “Why the hell you think that?”

She coughs a bit before she glares at him with as much of a scowl as she can muster given the pain she’s in and the damage she’s received thus far. “Because I know what you’ve done… You’re… you’re… A remorseless attack dog! You kill helpless ponies for kicks.” She coughs a few times before she leans towards him, against the pressure being applied to her by Swift on top of her. “Why don’t you just go back where you came from! This is our home, you monster!”

Swift raises an eyebrow as she chuckles, “The fuck is that about?” She looks at Gearing. “Mistaken identity?”

The bloody mare’s eyes go a bit wider, as her eyebrows jump up in surprise and her eyes, as much of them as can peek through the swelling, zips back and forth between the two.

“More like Red Beard’s doing…” Dandy says with a frown.

The ocher buck nods as he looks at her. “Yeah, he’s letting everyone know what he’s been doing. All the folks he’s killed. He won’t get away with it.”

Dandy looks at him as she raises an eyebrow. “The hell are you talking about?”

The gray mare chokes as she laughs, “You didn’t know? He killed a helpless old buck… smashed his head like a melon… Then he went and attacked somepony’s camp in the middle of the night, completely unprovoked… Then he tracked down the rest of the survivors and killed them and everyone they were with! He’s gotta be stopped!”

Swift slowly turns to look at Gearing. “Uh… what are they talking about?”

Dandy rolls her eyes and points at the ocher buck. “A bad game of telephone… that’s what.” She looks over at the gray mare and says, “Firstly… that ‘old helpless stallion’ you keep rambling on about? He was anything but helpless. And he attacked him,” She thrusts a hoof out towards Gearing. “Just like your dumbass did. Tried to stab him with some weird blade and he got what was coming to him because of it.” She looks at the dark green mare and bobs her head around as she says, “I was one of the ‘dozens of witnesses’ that Red Beard was talking about. I saw the whole thing. And nopony did shit for a good reason… he deserved it…”

Dandy looks over at the gray mare again as she says, “And as for the ‘survivors of that camp’ as you put it… he didn’t kill them… I did.” She looks over at the ocher buck and gives him a sly grin as she taps all of them in the side of the head with her pistols as she says singsongily, “When the duuuumbassessss ambushed usssss…. Just… like… Yooouuuuuuu!”

“Yeah? What about the guy he shot in the head then? You saying that is a big misunderstanding too?” the dark green mare asks skeptically.

“No, I did that. That was me,” Gearing says flatly, and drawing all of their attentions in the process. “But he was a special kind of asshole that needed to be put down as quickly as possible anyway. I’m not just out killing anypony I see.”

“Why would anypony believe you?” the bloody gray mare asks.

Swift taps her on the sides of her swollen cheeks a few times before she says, “Hey, he’s the one that asked me not to kill you… in case you were too busy getting your ass kicked to have heard him.”

She glares up at Swift as she asks, “But he’s still hunting down anypony after Security.”

“Sort of true,” Gearing admits flatly again. And, again, earning startled glances from those around. “I did say I’d kill anyone who claimed the bounty… And I will… so if you’re after the bounty, it’s in your best interest to simply give it up.”

Swift looks over at Gearing and frowns as she asks, “Why do you even bother talking to somepony like this? Their mind’s made up. They aren’t going to change. You’re starting to sound as bad as Handy with that nonsense.”

Dandy looks between them, then looks at Gearing as she offers, “Most of them aren’t evil. They’re just desperate ponies trying to survive. Hoofington is the ass of Equestria, I try to stay here as little as possible. Shit keeps bringing me back though…” She shrugs. “But those stuck here have very little hope, and the bounty is large enough to be a real game changer for them, enough to get out and away and maybe even have a decent life elsewhere.” Gearing slowly turns his head to look at her and Dandy waves a hoof defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t excuse what they did and I won’t hold it against you if you did kill’em; doubt anypony else would blame you either. Just thought you’d want to know the score. Have all the info to decide whatever you decide.” She shrugs. “That shotgun was a piece of shit, she’s lucky it didn’t blow up in her face.” She adds softly, “She’s obviously just some random nopony… not some professional hitmare…”

Swift’s focus jumps over to Dandy as she stares at her with her jaw hanging loosely, absolutely appalled by her seeming suggestion. “You saying to just let them go?!”

“I’m just letting him make an informed decision,” Dandy says flatly. “It’s his and his alone at this point.”

“Fair,” Swift replies flatly before turning back to look at the mare under her.

Gearing leans down to look at the gray mare before he asks, “Speaking of informed decisions… I think you need to understand exactly who you’re dealing with…” He uses the left hoof that he’d been using to hold his cheek, and pushes the cowl of his cloak back off of his head as he stares down at her eye to eye.

Her eyes, as swollen as they are from Swift’s brutalization of her face, open even wider in shock and disbelief.

Gearing reaches up with his crystal pinions again and starts poking and prodding at his face. As the two stare at each other, he flicks out a small fragment of rusted steel from between a crevice with two delicate plates just below his eye. And, as she’s watching, her eyes keep jumping around to various jerky movements along his face. It’s not simply the gears and cogs moving here and there as he moves his eyes or manipulates parts to try to work out the pellets. No. It’s far more than that.

Within the cone of her unhindered focus a thin plate above his eye that had been hit just right by a pellet to crumple over like an accordion suddenly straightens out after achieving enough tension. The pellet that had been holding it in place goes flying off and by her face as she watches his face slowly mend itself. And the looks of bafflement escapes neither Gearing nor Swift’s notice.

“You see this?” Gearing points at his face with his left hoof as he stares the mare in the eyes. “The advantage of multiple overlapping layers is an overall increase in effective strength… it’s much harder to punch through… Don’t get me wrong… it still stings like a bitch… but unless you land a direct hit on me with artillery, maybe an anti tank round, you aren’t doing anything serious to me… besides thoroughly pissing me off… you understand?” He leans down and uses his hoof to push her upper eyebrow back so she can see better as he tilts his face so she can see the slow movements of parts along his profile. “And given my healing rate… The scratches you put on my surface won’t even last the day with anything less than an anti tank weapon… which you don’t have.”

Gearing pushes her head back towards the ground before straightening up a bit. “So, you have picked a fight… you really can’t win… ever… So I have to ask… why would you do this?” He shrugs. “Only slavers and those after Security really have to worry about me… and since I don’t see any bomb collars I’m guessing you’re in the latter category… so… Why are you so dead set on going after Security, somepony that’s trying to help Hoogington?”

The gray mare closes her eyes and looks off to the side as she says, “With that kind of money I can get my daughter out of Hoofington. Start a new life somewhere, like maybe Tenpony… or elsewhere… Just anywhere other than here.”

“So, you’d do anything for your daughter?”

The mare nods. “I would and... h- have…” She lets out a sigh before she says quietly, “I don’t want her to have to do the same things just to survive…”

“Tell me about her,” Gearing says as he looks at her.

The gray mare’s eyes go wide as she stares at Gearing for a moment. It only takes a split second before she scowls and practically snarls, “If you’re gonna kill me, get on to it. But I’m not telling you where she is just so you can get some kind of sadistic payback on me!”

“I didn’t ask where she is… I said to tell me about her,” Gearing retorts. They stare at each other, and even Swift looks at him sideways with a raised eyebrow before he asks, “What’s her favorite color?”

“What?”

“Color? What’s her favorite color?” Gearing repeats.

“… Pink…” the gray mare says unsurely.

“We talking like ‘pink’ pink, or hot pink? Fuscia?” Gearing prods.

The gray mare looks between Gearing and Swift as she says softly, “M- more like… Magenta.” A smile creeps across her face before she adds, “She’d found a magenta crayon one time and just started coloring everything with it… rocks… walls… her hooves…” She closes her eyes and smiles with a tear in her eye as she chokes, “Said it made it all prettier…”

“Sounds adorable,” Gearing says as he looks her over.

The gray mare’s eyes open and the scowl returns to her face as she says through gritted teeth, “I won’t let you touch her. By Celestia I swear it!”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks at her. “I’m not some pervert.” The comment doesn’t seem to convince her in the slightest, so he asks, “Do you want to see your daughter again?” The mare glares at him and her breathing becomes more labored as she tests her muscles against Swift’s pressure again, and gets a light thump on the side of the head from Swift for her trouble. Gearing looks between them and asks, “It’s a pretty straight forward question. There’s no tricks…. I’m sure I know the answer, but I wanna-“

“Of course I wanna see my little filly again! What kind of fucked up question is that?!” the gray mare roars at Gearing.

“Then I have a deal for you… personally I think you’d be stupid to disagree, and refuse, but it is up to you,” Gearing says evenly and with little interest.

Swift looks at him and narrows her eyes as she asks softly, “You can’t be serious…”

“You said you’d do anything for your little girl, were you lying, or were you serious?” Gearing asks as he tilts his head.

The gray mare nods slowly. “I’ll do anything to keep my little girl safe.”

Gearing slowly looks her over as she’s pinned to the ground, before returning to eye contact with her as he asks, “Strong enough for a desire to live? Live for her?” The mare’s eyes narrow and Gearing comments, “Again, not a trick question.”

“…hopefully…?” the mare says with a more then slightly confused tone.

“Okay, then here’s the deal I have for you… And you only have two options… well… three… but that’s a horrible route to go…” Gearing says with a sigh. “Option one, you refuse, and you die right here right now, never see your little girl again, and die knowing that you’re little filly is going to grow up alone in Hoofington without you, and you’re the one that caused it.”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she looks at Gearing and says, “Damn… That’s…”

“Option two is to take the deal, as offered, unconditionally, and go on with your life where you can continue to live with your little filly, who loves magenta, and actually have the possibility of seeing her grow up. Maybe even in a better Equestria than you grew up in.”

“What’s option three?” Swift asks with an eye half closed as she’s only really seeing two sides to a coin.

Gearing looks at Swift, and then at the gray mare as he says, “Option three, because I’m not an idiot and know full well it’s a possibility, is that you agree to the terms… but lie about the fact and come back later to try again… in which case you’ll not only fail, again, but because you’d intentionally blown the chance I’m giving you I’m going to have to make an example out of you, to convince everyone else that it’s not a good idea to do…” He shrugs as he says, “Which means, in short, to kill you in whatever excruciatingly horribly painful and messy method that happens to be available at the time or that I think of… Acid, fire, radiation, poisoning, wildlife, whatever…” He shrugs as he adds, “Suffice to say, you’ll be asking me politely for a bullet to the head, with a please and thank you in advance, before it was over. And, sadly, I’ll have to decline your request. Because the point has to be made and you, yourself, chose option three. Not me.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she says quietly, “Oh shit… Red flag…”

Swift bobs her head around as she says, “Yeah… sounds fair…” She looks at the gray mare under her as she says, “Loyalty means a lot to him, so if you betray his trust like that, expect something horrible in return.” She nudges the gray mare a couple times before she says with a grin, “Sounds like option two’s a no brainer… I’d go with option two if I were you.”

The gray mare looks back and forth before she asks quietly, “What’s… what’s the condition? I… I can’t agree to something you haven’t told me first…”

Gearing nods as he sits down. “Fair enough… okay… So, I’ll go over the longer term things first… since they are the most important to understand and will take longer, the more immediate bit won’t take long to explain.”

“Oh… kay?” The gray mare asks with clear confusion in her voice.

“So, first thing you gotta do is get your damn life together. It’s your life, but whatever it was that led to you coming after Security, and me? Yeah. Change that. Change your situation. Change your home. Change your profession. Change your world view. Whatever. Just change it… and don’t, ever come after us again… Needless to say, don’t get into slaving either… I mean, you’re not in it now, but I think it’s only fair to point out that if I catch you doing that, you’ll qualify for option three… just saying…” He shrugs. “And beyond that, I want you to tell everyone under the sun what’s happened here. About me.” He points at his face. “I’ve been ambushed repeatedly, and it’s not turned out well for any of them… although… to be fair…” He reaches over and rustles her bloody mane. “You’re the first one that might actually survive the encounter… other’s were too stupid to take the chance given to them.”

He leans closer to her, getting nearly muzzle to muzzle, to the point that the mare turns her face sideways to keep him from seemingly kissing her, as he stares into her nearly swollen shut eye. “Make sure to let them know that they’re better off finding a living elsewhere… that they don’t want the kind of hell that follows in my wake… understand?” She nods quickly, with her nearly swollen shut eye as wide as it possibly could go in fear. “And… beyond all of that… I want you to go straight home, as quickly as you can, and give that magenta loving filly of yours a big ole hug and kiss. And hold her and love her like she both needs and deserves… and then you, little miss shotgun,” He taps her on the end of her snoot with his hoof, “Become the role model for her that I know you can be. Teach her to be a good pony, that makes good choices…” he leans in closer as his eyes widen and he practically growls, “And to stay as far away from those like me as possible. I’m not a nice pony, and you don’t want your daughter doing something and drawing my attention in the future… understand me?”

“Oooh this isn’t good…,” Dandy groans.

The gray mare nods quickly, grinding her other cheek into the ground as tears pour from both of her eyes silently as she chokes and has a hard time breathing given the storm of emotions fighting for dominance at the moment.

Gearing pulls back as he nods, then lets out a sigh as he says, “Now for the more immediate part…” He looks over at Dandy, then the other ponies around before looking down at the gray mare again. “I need to be abso-fucking-lutely sure you truly understand who you’re dealing with…” He waves a hoof between Dandy and Swift as he says, “Me simply surviving a shotgun blast to the face doesn’t really say much, when you were held by two other mares… you might get the mistaken impression that if you just catch me alone, things will go differently… or try some other stupid action of deceitfulness. So, a demonstration is in order… and on top of that… I’m charging you two healing potions.”

The dark green mare scoffs, “So now you’re turning to robbery?”

Gearing looks over at her and narrows his eyes as he says, “One of the potions is for her.” He points at his face. “The other is to fix the damage she did… pretty damn generous trade for her life, I think.”

The gray mare groans as she says, “I only have the one… and it’s not full strength.”

“Not enough,” Gearing says flatly. “I told you, the deal is only as offered, and unconditional…”

“You’d kill her just because she’s short one single potion?!” the ocher buck asks with his eyes going wide.

Gearing looks over at him and says calmly, “That’s half of the requested amount… and only one… This is the line in the sand… I’ve set the bar pretty damn low… and if I budge even one step you assholes will think I’m kidding.” He looks down at the gray mare and adds, “Spoilers to how this’ll end, I’m not.”

The gray mare chokes as she shakes her head. “I… I really only have the one… I’m sorry…” She stares into Gearing’s eyes and her own goes even wider as the tears resume. “P- please… I’m sorry… I’m truly sorry.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he says, “So am I… but I’m not altering the deal I’m offering.”

“I’ll do whatever you want! I’m sorry! I’ll get another potion for you, please! I just wanna see my little filly again!” she shrieks out as Swift looks back and forth between her and Gearing for some sort of sign, though she’s pretty sure she knows what’s coming.

Gearing looks at Swift and nods away as he says, “Swift. Off.” Then, as a quick after thought he politely adds, “Please.”

Swift grimaces as she hops up and jumps away, fluttering in the air a bit as she says, “Yeah… gotta avoid the splash zone.”

The gray mare instantly starts trying to crawl away on her side as she pleads her case, “You don’t have to do this! Please!”

Gearing looks at her and asks, “Where’s the one potion you do have?”

The mare looks side to side, looking for her satchel, then points a hoof at the ripped bag not far away. “It’s in there, you can have it! Here!” Her horn glows and envelopes the bag in her green overglow. But the overglow on both snaps out of existence along with the mare’s scream as Gearing jumps over next to her, grabs her horn with his fetlock, and jerks her head towards him.

“Don’t try that shit again! Or I’ll snatch that horn right off your head, you hear me?!” He shakes her head, using the horn as a handle, as he scowls at her.

“Yes! Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Dandy looks around, then her horn glows a bit more as the bag floats up in the air, and quickly turns over, dumping out all of the contents onto the ground at a distance away. Sure enough, a small potion bulb clatters out with its once vibrant purple color diminished and dulled. “Here it is,” Dandy offers softly. She floats it over and sets it next to Gearing and the gray mare before continuing her watch of everyone else.

The ocher buck looks over at Dandy and asks, in disbelief, “You’re really going to just stand there and let him kill her like this?”

Dandy looks at him and frowns as she says, “Frankly, she’s already lived longer than she would have if she tried that shit with me…”

The gray mare limply waves a hoof at the potion as she says, “You said one was going to be for me. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I just wanna see my little filly again. You drink it! Go on, take it!” Her horn glows again, and so does the potion, despite the force Gearing is applying to it, and in full defiance of what Gearing had told her. The potion lifts up, and hovers close to Gearing as she uses all of her concentration and will to keep it in the air. Quickly the top pops off, and drops to the ground as the bulb tips towards Gearing’s mouth from within the green glow.

Gearing stares at it, then at her as he mutters, “This potion is shit…” But slowly opens his mouth as he keeps his eyes trained on her. The potion, quickly tilts over and starts pouring into his mouth, and he chomps down on the bulb, holding it tightly and tilting his head back. Simultaneously he pulls it out of her magical field, and lowers her to the ground as he releases her.

He tilts his head back down towards her, after draining the bulb, and spits the bottle out next to her head as he glares at her. A few pieces of shot clatter down as they are worked out and what was left of the damage done by the shotgun blast quickly disappears by the metal reshaping itself.

The gray mare forces a smile as she says nervously, “F- feel better? Did that work?”

Gearing leans down to her and gets face to face as he turns his head to the side and asks, “Do you see what you did to me?”

“What?” she asks in complete confusion.

“My face… look at my face… do you see what you and your shotgun did to me?”

Her eyes dart around quickly as she stutters, “I- I don’t know what you mean… I’m sorry!”

Gearing points at the left side of his face as he growls, “You sucker punched me in the face with a 12 gauge shotgun… mere moments ago… do you see the damage you did to me?”

She opens her eyes as much as she can, and her eyes dart over the various golden colored brassy plates and gears as she focuses. His left eye, which did have a pellet imbedded in it and bending a pair of the thin plates that function as the aperture of his eyes, now seems perfectly fine. Even better than it was originally. With a bit of an extra shine and polish to it. No trace of the pellet at all. No dent. No scratch. Nothing. Likewise all over his face she sees the plates and gears absolutely still. Where as before, when she first got face to face with him, she could see the plates moving slowly on their own accord. Now there’s no movement at all.

“Well?” he finally asks.

“I- I’m sorry… I don’t see anything, please don’t be mad, I’m sorry I hurt you!” she wails.

“So you don’t see what you’d done?” Gearing clarifies.

“No, I’m sorry!”

“Good, so you’re paying attention, and noticed,” Gearing says flatly before turning to look at her.

“What?” she asks in pure confusion.

Gearing points at his face again as he says, “You shot me in the face with a shotgun, and a few moments later there’s no visible damage… because it’s all gone… Even if I didn’t drink the potion, it would have disappeared.” He points up to his left ear as he says, “The slight wave along the top edge of my ear? You see that?” She nods. “It took a building getting dropped on my head, along with a lot of other nonsense going on at the time, for this to even happen…”

The ocher buck looks over at him as he asks with his mouth hanging open, “You had a building dropped on your head?”

Gearing looks over at him and says, “Yeah, the eleventh floor of an office complex… well,” And Swift chimes in with a grin as she says harmoniously, “Half of it anyway.” Gearing and Swift share a smirk before he goes back to looking at the mare at his hooves. “So, I want you to know just how futile this whole exercise has been… do you under-stand now?”

The gray mare nods quickly as she says, “Yes… Yes I understand. I see that now. It was a stupid mistake and I’ll never try anything like this again.”

Gearing nods. “Good, I’m glad you see that.”

His sentence is punctuated by a shrill sharp scream echoing out across the wasteland as he jerks his other foreleg over, and uses his the foreleg planted on the ground and supporting his weight as a leverage point, and gives the gray mare’s left foreleg a new joint: mid cannon. Her cannon bone snaps loudly and causes the other ponies around to cringe even before the sharp shrill tone comes out of the gray mare’s muzzle.

The mare that had been sifting through the trash looks over at Dandy and pleads, “Please don’t make me watch this… This is horrible.”

Dandy’s eyes jump back and forth as she tries to figure out the best course of action, all the while looking more and more at Gearing as unsettling things keep bubbling up to the surface of her mind.

Gearing transitions his forelegs, and slams the gray mare’s mouth shut, muffling and silencing her scream, but causing her to open her eyes and look up at him. He leans in closely as he snarls, “And that is so you’ll never forget it! You understand me?!” She nods her head, or tries to, but Gearing’s hold is firm. Still, he feels it, and nods in approval before he lets go of her muzzle. He points a hoof at her face, “Now you just lay right there and don’t move until I tell you to, hear me?!”

Again, she nods quickly. Fear. Pain. Panic. All of these emotions cause her to eagerly comply. Along with a strange feeling of hope. A strange light that just doesn’t seem to belong in the situation. Hope that she’ll live. He hasn’t simply killed her yet. So there’s still hope that she might make it through, if she can just endure whatever amendments he decided to make to the deal.

To the shock of absolutely everyone but him, Gearing pulls out a leg brace from his bag, and sets it on the ground. He looks the gray mare in the eyes and says calmly, “Now I’m going to set the bone for you… it’s going to hurt like hell… But it’ll get you going sooner… okay?”

She stares at him for a moment, and is filled with confusion at the strangely kind offer given everything that’s going on. She nods slowly as she says, “Okay…”

Then another sharp shrill scream escapes her muzzle as he jerks the leg straight and sets the bone with one fluid application of force. He looks her in the eyes as he says, “Now stay still, I’m putting this brace on you.”

As he starts applying the leg brace to the mares broken leg, Swift looks on with a raised eyebrow as she asks, “Why in the hell are you carrying around a leg brace? It’s not like you have to worry about broken limbs?”

Gearing doesn’t even look at her as he keeps his focus on keeping the leg steady and getting the leg brace put on correctly to hold the fracture firmly in place together. “I know of a few diagrams and schematics that use them. Medical braces are surprisingly versatile… I’ve even seen a couple schematics that use them in the manufacture of weapons…” He looks over at her and shrugs as he says, “A great way for attaching blades or claws to add some slashing capabilities to your hooves.” He keeps tightening and adjusting the medical brace as the mare grunts and whimpers through her other forehoof that she has crammed into her mouth.

Gearing looks up at her and asks, “How’s that?”

She slowly opens her eyes and looks down, trying not to move at all before she lets out a slight sigh. “Yeah… that feels better… It’s more of a dull throb than the sharp pain it was, thank you…”

Gearing nods as he sifts through his bag. “Good… now…” he pulls out a potion bulb, with a far more vibrant purple liquid inside than the one he was given. Though still not as rich as it should be. “Drink this.” He pops the top and holds the open end near her mouth as he holds the bottle in his mouth and keeps using his forelegs to hold her broken one in place.

Although completely and utterly confused by the turn of events, the gray mare complies. She quickly guzzles down the potion, and then lets out a sigh as the various aches start disappearing from her body. Even her eyes start opening a bit wider as the swelling recedes.

“What the hell?! You break her leg, now you’re feeding her a potion and healing her after that long spiel about killing her if she didn’t do what you said? What’s really going on?!” the ocher buck asks as he quickly looks around at the others to try and figure out what he’s apparently missing.

Swift looks over at him and scowls as she says, “Because he can, that’s why… And if you’re stupid enough to try anything after knowing what he can do… well… you deserve whatever else he can cook up.”

Gearing stands up fully and takes a step back as he says, “So, we done? You sticking with option two?” She nods quickly as she slowly climbs up to her hooves awkwardly. Gearing nods his head in approval a few times before jutting his chin off behind her. “Good… now do what I said… and go give your little one a hug.” He turns and looks over at Dandy. “We’re good… but if any of them try anything, drop them.”

Dandy looks at him for a few moments before nodding and pulling away all of her pistols, but keeps them floating up around her head as she looks around and still expects one of them to try something.

Gearing looks around at the others and says flatly, “Oh… and as for the rest of you… I don’t care if you were involved in this or not… go about your business… but remember this and if any of you try anything later, expect option three automatically… and… yes… I’m good at remembering faces… so don’t push your luck.”

The one buck that’s been sitting there with his forehooves high in the air the entire time yells back with a slight whine, “But I ain’t done nothin’!”

Gearing looks over at him as he shrugs. “Well, keep it that way then. If, after seeing this, I didn’t convince you that any of that was a bad idea… I won’t pity you. You’ve already been informed and warned, the rest is up to you.”

The gray mare gets up and turns around as she stays low and meekly asks, “I… I can go? I can see my little filly again?”

Gearing looks over at her, catching eye contact, before giving a single firm nod. “Yeah… but remember… this is a second chance… don’t go fucking it up… your filly needs you.”

The gray mare nods quickly, and then starts walking away as she quickly scoops up her belongings with both her magic and forehoof along the way.

After she’s a couple dozen paces away, Gearing looks over at the ocher buck and the dark green mare, and nods towards the retreating gray mare. “Well… you go on too… Might as well help her home… considering she took the ass beating for all of you.”

The dark green mare’s eyes go wide as her lower lip trembles. “H- how’d you know we were together?”

“Trade secret… Now go on… before you get yourselves in trouble.”

They turn and walk away, keeping an eye on Gearing, Swift, and Dandy as they quickly gather up their belongings and run to catch up with the gray mare.

After they’re gone, Gearing turns around and continues on to Megamart without another word.

Swift watches him go, slowly turning her head to keep her focus on him as she sits there on her haunches with her forelegs crossed over her chest. After he’s a distance away she snorts, “Hmmph… didn’t even say anything to us… kinda rude…”

The mare that’d been picking through the trash looks between them as she asks, “May I go now?”

Dandy waves at her as she says, “Yeah, sorry… Hope you understand. We’ve been ambushed repeatedly. Didn’t want you shooting us in the back or something.”

The mare looks at her and nods, then glances at the ground where her snoot had just been. She kicks a soggy Sugar Apple Bombs box out of the way then quickly grabs a hunk of metal with wires hanging out of it and starts stuffing it into her saddlebag. She pauses as her eyes dart back and forth between Swift and Dandy, who are both staring at her. “Uhhhmmm, I guess you expected me to… like… leave?” They both nod. She looks back and forth before giving a sheepish smile and asking, “Do I have to… or can I keep snooping around?”

Dandy chuckles as Swift rolls her eyes and comments, “Nah, have fun, good luck… I’m heading back to Megamart.”

Swift and Dandy head back towards Megamart, with Dandy quickly running up next to her.

“Hey, Swift, we need to talk.”

Swift looks at her and raises an eyebrow.

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she balks in realization of the tone she’d used. “I mean… Please, Iron Hoof Swift, Reaper, ma’am.”

Swift chuckles and shakes her head. As she’s rolling her eyes she asks, “About what?”

“Gearing. We need to talk about Gearing.”

Swift looks at her and narrows her eyes as she says, “If this is about you and your cycle you’re gonna have some problems real soon.”

Dandy shakes her head violently as she says, “Noo! It’s not that!” She looks back behind them, then stops and points a hoof to where they just came from. “Something’s wrong with Gearing. Like, seriously wrong, Swift. He won’t talk to me about it, but something’s wrong; maybe he’ll talk to you.”

Swift rolls her eyes again as she waves it off with a hoof. “What? That whole ordeal? Don’t worry about it, he was just posturing and showing how tough he can be… don’t worry about it… I know Gearing. That was nothing more than him trying to get them to fuck off and leave him alone. Don’t read too much into it.” She continues on towards Megamart as she actually chuckles at the thought.

Dandy jumps over and gets in front of Swift, staring up at her and not backing down as she blocks Swift’s path. “No, that’s not it! Swift, I’m serious. I haven’t known him that long, I know that, but I’ve got to know him well enough to get a feel for his personality, and I’m telling you that something’s wrong!”

Swift narrows her eyes and sits down as she doesn’t like the tone Dandy is taking with her. “And just what the hell’s wrong with Gearing? He seemed fine to me?”

Dandy looks around and rubs the back of her head with a forehoof as she groans. “It’s hard to put my hoof on it… exactly…” She sees the skeptical look on Swift’s face and blurts out, “He’s always cracking jokes, and like... teasing… and making puns at any and every opportunity. And he’s chatty. And likes to talk about different things when you actually ask him…”

Swift looks at her for a moment before bobbing her head around. “Yeah, and?”

Dandy shakes her head violently before pointing back towards Megamart. “He’s not!” Swift and Dandy stare at each other before Dandy groans and rolls her head around on her neck. “On the way to take out that raider encampment, we talked almost the entire way… and if you say the wrong thing he has no problem with dropping an innuendo joke. Like, he’s a completely shameless flirt… Normally…”

Swift stares at her and slowly narrows her eyes as she asks, “What do you mean, ‘normally’?”

Dandy closes her eyes and hangs her head as she sighs. “Something happened in the building with the raiders… I don’t know what. I was outside. But whatever it was, it was like a switch was flipped in his head.” She shrugs. “He’s not acting the same.” She looks up at Swift and says quietly, “On the way back it was like pulling teeth to get him to say two words…” She shrugs. “I don’t know… but something happened… he saw something in that building that has affected him… badly.”

“Maybe he was just tired… that happens, ya know? Long trip, lot of fighting, it makes sense… right?” Swift offers as she puts a forehoof to her muzzle and contemplates it.

Dandy looks at her in the eye before she narrows her own eyes and says flatly, “We both know exactly what he is… he doesn’t get tired… That can’t be it.”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she looks around, and tries to think things through. The comment rattles her a bit for a variety of reasons, but it also makes sense. Which makes the rattling even louder.

“And him using that mare’s filly as leverage against her… that seemed out of character as well…” Dandy adds with a frown.

“He was trying to make her realize she had a reason to live… And coax her into making the right choice… I’m sure that was his thought process…” Swift replies quietly as she looks down at the ground, but can’t help but thinking that Dandy has a point.

“Swift…” Swift looks up at her and Dandy says quietly, “Gearing needs help…” She shrugs as she shakes her head. “And I don’t know how to help him… You’re friends, right? You’ve known him longer… Please try… He’s a good buck… He doesn’t deserve to hurt like this.”

Swift raises an eyebrow as she says, “He already healed up, he should be fine…?”

Dandy lets out an exasperated sigh before she retorts, “Not all hurts are on the outside, you know…?”

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Fragmentation errors in ‘credential matrix’ detected . . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .. .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

59 Mind Less Mending

When Swift gets back into Megamart, it doesn’t take long for her to track down Gearing. Although, she didn’t expect to find him sitting on the roof, practically hiding among some crates, in nothing but his golden brassy hide as he carefully mends the blanket turned cloak from where the shotgun blast had put so many holes in it. It’s an odd sight for sure: seeing the repair pony impersonating a sewing machine.

Though the expression on his face: blank, emotionless, with a thousand yard stare as his wings continuously work to mend the blanket, seemingly independently of the rest of him, is particularly disturbing.

To her mind it looks like he’s mostly shut down.

She slowly walks over near him, not even trying to be quiet along the way, as she says, “I knew you were good at fixing stuff, but I didn’t know you were so good at mending clothes. Looking damn near seamless…” She stops a few paces away and sits down as she looks at him, and, finally, sees what Dandy had been saying.

Because he doesn’t even bother replying.

“You learn that at Stable-Tec too? Seems a little weird that they’d teach repairponies that kinda stuff when you’re-”

“No,” Gearing interrupts her.

“Pick it up somewhere else? Maybe I can have ya help me with the kids’ clothes-”

“My mother was a seamstress.”

Swift smiles as she waves a hoof towards him. “That’s awesome; that she taught you. I bet it comes in handy with everyth-”

“What do you want, Swift?” Gearing cuts her off sharply as he doesn’t even look at her.

Swift narrows her eyes and hops up to her hooves in an instant. She quickly closes the remaining distance and gets face to face with him as she scowls at him. “I want you to drop the shit, Gearing. Tell me what the hell is going on with you. This isn’t like you.”

“The only one she hurt was me, and like you said it was up to me. But I’m no bleeding heart and she needed to realize how precious that second chance I was giving her was. She needed to start thinking straight before she did something that really screwed her over. Her and her foal both.”

Swift rolls her eyes and waves it away with a forehoof and shake of her head as she says, “I’m not talking about that fuckwit’s leg you broke, she got off easy. We need to talk about what happened earlier.”

Gearing looks at her sideways and says flatly, “There’s nothing you need to be informed of. Whatever may or may not have happened involving Dandy is none of your concern.”

Swift lets out a sigh as she looks around the rooftop of Megamart. “I’m not talking about miss horny head…” She looks at Gearing and narrows her eyes slightly as she says quieter, “Although you owe it to Sable to say something… it’s not my place. But if you care for her at all, she deserves to at least know.”

Gearing looks her in the eye and says flatly, “There’s nothing Sable needs to be informed of either.” They stare at each other for a few moments before he asks, “What? You think I was unfaithful to Sable?”

“Weren’t you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no… Cheaters do what they do for their physical gratification or mental stimulation. Usually in search of something they feel is missing in their current relationship; to fulfill an unmet need or desire. And neither of that applies to me. So, no.”

“So you see no problem in telling Sable whatever may or may not have happened?” Swift asks with a raised eyebrow. She lets out a sigh as she says, “It’s your relationship, not mine. But shouldn’t you at least let her make the call on if she thinks something is relevant or not?”

“It won’t change anything, but I’ll take the suggestion under advisement,” Gearing says flatly and simultaneously makes Swift’s eyes jump wide open at the out of character comment. “Now… you just said you weren’t referring to Dandy. Yet, you’re still talking about related situations… so was that a lie or do you have some other reason for bothering me while I’m working?”

Swift’s mouth drops open as she looks him over. Again, she takes in his eerily blank expression. She’s not sure if it’s intentional, or a symptom of whatever is going on under the hood of his golden dome. But, regardless, there’s definitely something going on here. The cadence of his speech is even off. She steps even closer, slowly, and sits down facing him. Moving ever so slowly as his eyes stay straight ahead and, unlike normal, don’t actually track her movements. But she knows. She can feel it. He’s still very much watching exactly what she’s doing.

He’s just not even bothering to simulate natural movement at the moment.

Another sign of things being awry.

“Gearing… what happened in the building?”

Gearing continues working on the cloak heedless of the question, head and focus directed solely at the cloak. Blending in the repair seams by hiding them among additional stitch lines that makes up scrolling vine like patterns along the edges around the shotgun blast damage. A method that’s entirely unnecessary, from a functionality standpoint, and odd to do for a results focused individual.

“Dandy said something happened in there, and she’s worried… And… Now I kinda am too,” Swift says quietly as she watches him mechanically go through the motions of one stitch after another. After a bit longer of him saying nothing, at all, she reaches over and grabs hold of the cloak, preventing him from working any further as she pushes the fabric down towards the roof and the threaded needle stops dead in its tracks as her sudden movement almost made him stab her. “Come on, Gearing. Something’s off… You’re not acting normally.”

After a few more moments of silence, with neither of them talking, Swift asks, “Will you at least talk to Sable when we get back? We can go now if you-“

“What good would it do?” Gearing asks flatly while keeping his head low and pointed towards the cloak.

“Well, if you’re not comfortable with talking to me about it, I know Sable would be more than willing to talk with you… She loves you, Gearing… And no one, not even you, can go through their life keeping everything on their own shoulders. The weight’s too much and will crush you eventually.”

“Nothing good can come from talking about it… to anyone,” Gearing says softly.

Swift leans closer, muzzle next to his, and says quietly, “So something did happen… Come on, Gearing, we’re friends… Just talk with me about it, and I’ll help you sort it out, whatever it is.”

Gearing closes his eyes, his first equine-like motion Swift’s noticed since finding him on the roof. “Swift, no good, at all, can come from me talking about it.”

“We need to go kill somepony? Someone do something fucked up?”

“The offending parties have already been dealt with… thoroughly…” Gearing replies flatly.

“Then why won’t you talk about it? You ignored Dandy, you’re locking me out, and you’re sitting up here hiding from everypony… Something happened and even though you might be trying to act like everything is finished and done, you’re hung up on something. So it’s obviously still a problem. So what do we need to do? What’s going on in that shiny ass head of yours?”

“Nothing further can be done, Swift.”

She leans forward, tilting her head, and invades his personal space as she looks him eye to eye. “How can you be so sure about that, if you won’t talk to anyone about it? You’re a smart ass, that’s for sure. But not even you knows everything.”

“Never claimed to,” Gearing replies lamely.

“Then… what?”

Gearing looks at her and lets out a sigh as he shrugs and repeats, “It’s not something that anyone can do anything about.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

“If I told you the whole situation… All it would serve to do is make you feel like shit too… Sure, there’s times when getting something off your chest helps you, and you can move on from there. Times where talking actually helps. But this isn’t one of those times, Swift. You can’t beat up a reminder.”

Swift shakes her head as she pulls back and asks with an eye partially closed, “A reminder? A reminder of what?”

Gearing slowly looks up at her and says flatly, “A reminder… that evil… real, true, pure, irredeemable evil… actually exists in the world. Not simply greed or desperation or some other explainable and understandable force at work. That there’s not simply differences of opinion or circumstance at play sometimes, but actual evil. A tangible thing that just can’t be explained. Impossible to understand… Or justify...”

Swift looks him over then gives an uneasy smile as she says, “Well… we just pound the evil bastards into the pavement, problem solved…?”

Gearing looks up at her and frowns as he narrows his eyes, “No, Swift… You can stop a plan. A pony. A creature… Maybe even hinder or mitigate the damage of the plans of it… but you can’t kill evil… Evil never dies. It’s a force of nature. Like gravity. And just as inescapable.”

Swift tilts her head as she eyeballs him. “So… what? You’re just going to give up and go hide somewhere?” She looks him over and huffs, “I never figured you for a quitter.”

Gearing stares her straight in the eyes and asks, “Who said I was quitting?” She stares back for a few moments and, when she opens her mouth to say something, Gearing speaks first, “I’m not built that way. But only a fool would ignore reality. I’m not going to give up… I… I just…” He looks down as he lets out a long sigh. “I just don’t know what to do with this… I mean I can only do so much, I know that, but it still feels like Celestia’s using my testicles as speed bags when I run into something like this.”

“Well… see… told ya you just needed to talk to somepony… cuz I happen to have the answer for ya, and it ain’t that hard,” Swift says cheerfully with a massive grin.

Gearing looks over at her and raises an eyebrow as he says with a snort, “Oh? What’s that?”

“If you can only do what you can do… then… do that… and kick the shit out of whatever evil sumbitch you come across…” She holds her forelegs out wide as if she’s trying to grab the whole world at the same time as she grins even wider and declares, “Problem solved!”

Gearing chuckles. A dark, humorless, laugh as he asks, “Oh? Just like that?” He shakes his head and smirks, “Easier said than done, Swift…”

Swift waves it away with a forehoof as she says, “Pfft… That’s what makes it interesting… If it was easy, it would be boring… and you wouldn’t be up here brooding over your patchwork cloak.”

Gearing shakes his head and looks down at the cloak. “This thing already had enough holes in it when I got it… And getting shot repeatedly ain’t helped matters any.” He narrows his eyes as he grumbles, “I’m really going to have to pay that Redbeard a visit and thank him for all the trouble.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to say ‘Let’s go right now and pound his face into a second asshole!’ that merchant is still missing and they really are asking for help now to find out what happened.” Swift waves off towards the roof access as she says, “Dandy’s over there talking with them now for more information. Seems like she’s getting ready to head out soon.”

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head. “Money’s a very motivating force for some ponies… speaking of…” He looks off towards the front of Megamart before looking at Swift and motioning that way with his chin as he asks, “What happened to the wannabe shanty town? Bottlecap and Keystone get sick of their shit and run them off finally?”

Swift frowns and looks towards the front as she slowly shakes her head. “No… Word came through shortly after you left that that security mare is laid up at Brimstone’s Fall. Apparently she got hurt in a fight and is holed up there.” Swift shrugs. “They all took off and started a stampede with them all trying to hurry up and get there so they could take advantage of her being stuck in place.”

“Fuck…” He grumbles a bit before he asks, “Let me guess, more bullshit thanks to Redbeard?”

“Yeah…” Swift comments as she looks around. “Enough of them heard it that they pretty much all left at once.” She looks at Gearing sideways and grins as she asks, “You wanna head out? I bet it’d be a hell of a fight… We could start a competition on who can crack more skulls before they all give up and run.”

Gearing purses his lips to the side before slowly shaking his head. “Given the amount of time, they’ve most likely gotten there already. So the likelihood of us arriving in time to make a difference is practically nil…”

Swift turns her head and looks him over as she asks, “So, what, you’re not going to do anything at all about it?”

Gearing glares at her and narrows his eyes. “Either Security is going to fight them off, or she’s going to manage to get away… or they’ve overwhelmed her. The only scenario I need to do anything about is the last… and, if that happens, we’ll find out soon. Word of the largest bounty ever getting claimed will spread like a Hoofington downpour: we won’t be able to go anywhere without knowing about it… And if that happens… well… I have a promise to keep, and I’m gonna be gone a couple days while I sort out whatever dumbass got lucky enough to claim the bounty.”

Swift chuckles. “Not really lucky, considering it’s going to put you on their tail… is it?”

“That’s what I keep telling them, but stupidity is terminal it seems,” Gearing replies dryly.

“Well, then what are you gonna do in the meantime?”

Gearing looks down at his cloak and bobs his head around. “I’ll need to work on some things. But we really do need to find out what’s happened to that merchant. Seems pretty clear that if we aren’t going to be able to get the things we need unless we find them, then that’s our first step. Otherwise we should just head back to 68 and figure out our next move.” He looks the cloak over and checks the new seams closely before using his green pinions and snipping the thread free from the cloak, and then stowing his sewing supplies in a small tin.

As he’s slipping the repaired cloak back on he looks over at Swift and says, “I’m pretty sure time is of the essence with this merchant business. So you guys go ahead and head out as soon as you get a good bead on where to go. I’ll catch up as soon as I get the rest of my equipment sorted.”

Swift looks him over and a smile creeps across her muzzle as she tilts her head and asks, “You’re not just saying that, so you can sneak off to Brimstone’s Fall, are you?”

Gearing tilts his head and smirks at her out from under the cloak’s cowl. “After we get the merchant sorted? Maybe. We need those components, and sooner than later. We should know by then what’s happened with Security… Because greedy braggarts don’t know how to keep their mouth shut.” He shrugs. “Besides, you’re the better tracker, and I’d just need to be following you anyway.” Gearing shrugs. “You three probably won’t even really need me, but send me a message if you do and I’ll head out as quick as I can.”

Swift chuckles as she asks, “Oh, going to let me have all the fun this time? Sounds fair to me, I really need the exercise!” To the frowning glare she receives from Gearing she laughs and waves a hoof dismissively. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything too crazy.” She grins at him. “That’s your department, after all.”

Gearing loosely packs up his things and starts heading towards the roof access. “Well, good. Hate for you to try and steal my shtick… I’m gonna go pay Bottlecap a visit, get my pay, and stop by Patches to get started on my equipment. I’ll see ya later.”

Swift follows him down and, at the bottom of the steps, waves at him with a wing before turning to go look for Handy and Dandy. “Sure. Don’t take too long getting all gussied up or you’re gonna miss the fun though!”

Gearing stalks back through the crowds, blending in and stepping through and around the other Megamart customers as smoothly as he can, on his way back towards Bottlecap’s office. When he gets near the end of the aisle where he would make a turn towards her office, he sees Bottlecap trotting across his view heading away from her office. He quickly hops around a few of the customers, earning a few scathing stares as startled ponies suddenly become painfully aware of his presence as he blitzes past them to get to the intersection. He pokes his head around the side and calls out to her before she gets far, “Bottlecap, you got a minute?”

Bottlecap stops and looks over towards him, then looks back the other way to talk to the tan security mare she’d been walking with, “We’ll talk later. Let me take care of something, and I’ll be right with you.”

The tan mare nods and looks past her at Gearing before turning and continuing on her way with her heavily loaded battle saddle.

Bottlecap walks up to Gearing, then nods towards her office as she says, “Come with me. I’ve been meaning to talk with you anyway.” She leads the way to the office, heading straight behind her desk and leaving the door open for him.

Gearing politely shuts the door behind him, and then walks over to the picture of the Marauders and starts looking it over again: courteously spending the time that Bottelcap is getting herself situated at her desk to look for the thing that he feels is missing. But, despite the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, he still can’t find that which is eluding him. The little blue pegasus in his head is even getting a headache as it grumbles in frustration about something being on the tip of its tongue, but just can’t verbalize it. Like trying to remember what a word is that you know well, but just can’t spit it out. He starts wondering if this is some horn headed dirty trick, just to mess with him, cast on the picture. Pictures don’t just fade that rapidly. There’s definitely something else going on here and he doesn’t like it one bit. He flips his cloak back with his wings, then carefully pulls the picture down to look at it closer. He flips it around and rotates it as he gives it a careful examination. But he can’t find any evidence of enchantments. No gems. No glyphs. Nothing. But, still, those hypnotic eyes that keep popping up in wisps of smoke in his mind’s eye don’t appear again in the old photo.

“Fan of history?” Bottlecap asks softly from her desk and breaks Gearing out of his static examination of the picture. He looks over at her and sees that she’s sitting at her desk with a couple small bags of caps lying on her desktop. And, from the expression, and the tingle between his shoulders, he realizes he’d been standing and staring at the picture for some time before she decided to draw his attention. After she’s achieved eye contact with him, she nods towards the picture and says, “We might be able to get someone to make a copy for you. If not find one elsewhere, if you wish.”

Gearing blinks his eyes rapidly as the apertures of his eyes manually zip in and out before he gently shakes his head. He carefully puts the picture of the Marauders and Red Stripes back where it was originally as he says, “No, no thank you… I was just… seeing if I knew any of them.” He looks at it again as he says softly, “Feels like I should.”

“You mean like… personally know them?” Bottlecap asks with a raised eyebrow. Gearing looks back over his shoulder at her and arcs one of his own in response. She shrugs and says, “I hope you don’t mind, but Dandy let me know a bit about your… condition… when she stopped by to pick up her portion of the bounty payments.” Gearing frowns and Bottlecap shakes her head. “Don’t think ill of her. She simply asked if I had any contacts or information that might help you get the procedures done that you need.” She smiles and folds her forehooves on the desk as she says softly, “She was adamant on me keeping it to myself. Since she was pretty sure you wouldn’t want that kind of information getting out.”

Gearing looks back at the picture and smirks as he asks, “What? That I’m old and falling apart and there’s not a pony left alive that can help me?”

Bottlecap frowns as she replies with a sigh, “Something like that… yes.” She regards him for a bit before she asks, “Is it true though?” Gearing looks at her and narrows his eyes and she nods as she says, “I see…” She looks around her office as she taps her forehooves together. Finally she ends her gaze on the picture that keeps drawing his attention. “Well, Dandy was correct. Your best option would most likely be the Collegiate. They have the most advanced medical centers around that are still active. So that is where I would direct you to go as well.”

“Yeah, that’s not really an option…” Gearing says with a grumble.

“Dandy had stated the same… How can you be so sure if you don’t at least ask them about it?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he lets his eyes travel over the ancient nostalgia inducing pictures again. “Because even among projects that were kept out of public eye, and compartmentalized into secrecy…What led to me being the way I am was even more so. Compartmentalized practically into oblivion and that’s before the bombs dropped and everything went to hell. And, because the way things are, someone else can’t just start from scratch.” He shakes his head and lets out a sigh as he looks at her. “There is no margin for error left anymore. Either it’s done correctly and flawlessly the first time, or it could very well kill me on the operating table.”

“And you’d rather not take the risk? Even though you know it’ll probably eventually kill you anyway?”

Gearing looks at her and grins. “Oh… it won’t kill me… don’t worry about that.” To the raised eyebrow Bottlecap gives him he rephrases, “Not directly anyway… Besides, I’d rather die on my hooves, fighting to fix what I can, than just die on the operating table and simply become another statistic for malpractice.” He shakes his head. “My implants not working will simply make it easier for others to kill me. If I do die because of their loss, it’ll be because of that. Not because of some critical failure.”

“You sure about that?”

Gearing chuckles and shrugs as he waves it away with a forehoof. “Well, as much as I would like my skin back, and not have to worry about trotting around looking like a golden idol, that alone won’t kill me. Besides, a couple of my implants have come back online on their own. Including, and most importantly, my healing one and the one that lets my PipBuck interface with everything.” He shrugs again with an easy smile. “It’s already doing a good enough job that a shotgun blast to my face was already healing quickly before I even drank a healing potion.”

Bottlecap scoffs before asking with wry amusement. “What is it with you types that seem to like to throw themselves in the meat grinder of the wastes?” Gearing tilts his head and Bottlecap says softly, “Security has a bad habit of getting in trouble and getting hurt too… Too much wasteland at one time can be fatal.”

“Any word? About Security I mean? That Redbeard prick sicked the whole mob on her. The camp’s a ghost town now...”

Bottlecap slowly taps her hooves before she says softly, “No… there hasn’t… but that might be a good sign since I doubt a few certain ponies would be able to avoid bragging about the victory, and loudly at that.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” Gearing admits.

“You going to go out to help her?” Bottlecap asks as she gives him an appraising look.

Gearing shakes his head as he looks back over at the picture of the Marauders. “No. I don’t think I will… not directly anyway… I’m already drawing some attention away from her.” He motions up towards the left side of his face before he adds, “It would be a bad idea for us to be in the same area… this way the ones more worried about me won’t even be within line of sight of Security. Hopefully that’ll give her enough breathing room to do what she needs…” He smirks as he nods, “But that Redbeard… that might be a different story entirely... I really need to pay him a visit...”

“Going to kill him so he can’t broadcast about her anymore? Surely that won’t stop someone else from picking up his mic?”

Gearing shakes his head and looks over at her sideways, “Maybe, maybe not. I mean…” he chuckles a bit before he turns his head to face her and says, “It’d be entirely justified if I did, I know that… considering he’s put a hit out on me and all… but I might just end up sabotaging his broadcasting equipment or something. Won’t know what’s best until I can actually see and get a better feel of the situation.”

Bottlecap raises an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a first for me… Didn’t realize he’d put a price on your head.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Apparently I’ve rattled him bad enough… Although, I can’t help but feeling a little insulted…”

Bottlecap shakes her head a bit before asking, “About what? That he’d have the audacity to put a price on your head?”

Gearing grins at her before he says, “That the price is so low.” She arcs her brow again and he chuckles before he says, “Redbeard said he’d give someone a beer for my helmet… A beer! … Can you believe that? I mean, I don’t know how much that’s worth in the current age… but that seems a bit low… don’t you think? I mean, I killed Cookie in a head on fight, and his bounty wasn’t small change… So where’s he get off insulting me with such a tiny ass bounty?” He puts a hoof to his chest demurely as he closes his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “Considering what I’d done the last couple days alone I figure it should be at least twice what was on Cookie’s head…” He gives a firm nod before he says, “Apparently I need to be a bit more direct and get his tail good and properly twisted for him to take me seriously.”

Bottlecap snickers before she asks with an amused tone of disbelief, “You actually want a high bounty on your head?”

Gearing shrugs and grins at her. “Not really, it’s just the principle of the matter… I mean, if you’re gonna do it, at least take it seriously!”

Bottlecap covers her mouth with a hoof as she snickers again. She uses her other forehoof to push and separate the bags on her desk as she comments, “Speaking of just rewards… Here is your payment for the Cookie fiasco.” She waves the hoof over them as she says, “What you brought back was sufficient to claim it. Dandy’s already claimed her portion. For killing Cookie, you’re entitled to the five thousand cap bounty. There was a fifteen-hundred cap bonus for taking out the rest of his gang. And finally… the smaller bag is from another outstanding contract the Finders had: looking for information on what had happened to a pair of caravans. One of the brahmin you brought back was able to verify their fate, so you’re credited with bringing back the necessary information for that as well. That netted you another five-hundred caps.” She pushes the bags together then pushes them across the table as she smiles. “Thanks for the help. The roads are going to be a bit safer now.”

Gearing trots over, grabs the bags, and summarily tosses them into his saddlebag without even opening them. He checks his PipBuck and raises an eyebrow as he looks at the item sorter list. After staring at it a moment he says, “Hey, Bottlecap… you’d said Dandy already got her part, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Gearing pulls out the smallest bag and holds it up as he says, “You gave me too much then. Here. Half of this one should cover the 250 difference.”

Bottlecap smiles and shakes her head. “No. That’s entirely yours.” She waves at it with a forehoof as she says, “Dandy insisted. She said that you two worked together to take out the gang and Cookie, but rescuing the Brahmin and bringing them back here was entirely you. So she didn’t feel right about taking half of the reward for your hard work.” She smirks and shrugs as she says, “Dandy was more than happy with her 3250.” She shrugs again. “Apparently she found the day quite lucrative.”

Gearing stares at the bag held aloft with his wing as he purses his lips to the side and tries to figure out what to do.

You… you don’t think she did that intentionally to pay us for ‘services rendered’?, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as he performs air quotations with his blue pinions.

Gearing lets out a groan as the thought gives him mixed feelings and stows the bag away as he comments, “Well, as long as she’s happy I suppose.” He directs his attention back towards Bottelcap as he asks, “Any leads on those items I asked for?”

Bottlecap rocks her head side to side a bit before she says, “Still looking into most of it, for other sources anyway. But for that section you had listed as ‘snake bite’, strange name by the way, you’ll definitely want to talk to Patches. She had a few of the items and, when she found out that it was you that was asking, she made sure to gather up the few missing things. By now I’m sure she has everything you need.”

Gearing chuckles as he looks around the room aimlessly. “Yeah, she probably wants to actually see me working on something for once and figures it’d be easier to do if she already has everything she knows I need.”

“I apologize, but no one’s been able to locate that armor set you had been asking her, about either. She’s been trying to call in favors to figure something out, but so far: nothing.” She snickers as she waves her hoof around. “I think she’s starting to take it personally at this point. She’s always been a relentless craftsmare.”

“Well, now I’m pretty sure I can afford to pay her for some of the equipment I need. That should make her happy. I know how frustrating it can be to not be able to find a solution when you really want and need it.” He turns and heads toward the door as he says, “I’ll go pay her a visit now and see what we can work out.” Before opening the door and walking out he makes sure he’s covered again and comfortably concealed under his mottled cloak.

Bottlecap follows him out of the office and shuts the door behind herself as she says, “I’ll get in touch if we hear anything.” She doesn’t even wait for Gearing’s wave of acknowledgement before quickly trotting off on her own business.

Gearing zips through the crowd at his typical stealthy speed, making himself as unobtrusive and uninteresting as possible as he heads towards Patches’ booth. When he gets to Patches’ booth he finds it entirely open, with Patches bent over and snooping under her table and her back to him as she excitedly sorts through her supplies. After standing there staring at her tail whipping in the air above her for a few moments, and there being no sign that she’s going to end any time soon, Gearing steps up to the entrance of the booth and loudly coughs to announce his presence.

Patches turns her neck and sticks her head around the leg of the table to look behind her before jumping back and spinning around in mid air. She lands facing him with a massive grin on her face as she says happily, “Just the buck I wanted to see! I knew you’d be stoppin’ by!” She steps closer and raises an eyebrow as her eyes start darting all over him, then settle on the cowl of his cloak. “What’s with the embroidery? I didn’t think you were the showy type?” She leans in and her horn glows as she whips over a magnifying glass from her work table and gives the cloak a one eyed appraising glare. “Ex’llent needle work though…” There’s a pause before she adds quietly, “Wait… this the same cloak as before ain’t it… What’s up?”

Gearing chuckles as he tilts his head and looks at her from under the cowl. “The embroidery is to hide the repair job from all of the bullet holes.”

“In the cowl?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. He nods so she muses, “But that’d mean you’d gotten shot in the head…” Again, he nods. She lets out a sigh as she looks him over. “You’re right, you do need some better armor…” Her shoulders sag as she lets out a disgruntled huff. “I’m sorry, I still can’t get my hooves on what you’d asked for.” She perks up as her ears shoot up in alarm. “But, I’m tryin’, I really am!”

Gearing waves it away and steps in a bit closer as he says, “Really. It’s okay. It was honestly a shot in the dark question. Don’t kill yourself trying to find something that probably doesn’t even exist anymore…” This doesn’t seem to convince her, so he asks, “Would you be willing to help me out with a few other things though? I just got paid, so I can afford that armor you got me now, I’m sure.” He sits down and taps his forhooves together sheepishly as he says, “But… I’m still going to need to modify it to fit… and I got a couple other projects that I need to do and…well…” He looks off and to the side as his voice trails off.

She leans closer as she asks, “What? What’s wrong?”

Gearing pushes the cowl back enough to look at her and give her a sheepish smile. “I’m really on a time crunch… and I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me… There’s a missing caravan and my friends are already heading out to go track it down, and I need to get ready and catch up to them before they get into trouble.” He reaches out with his forehooves and drops to a lower posture as he grabs her forehoof with both of his and asks quickly, “If I don’t have enough on me, we can work something out. I just really need the help.”

Patches eyes go wide as they practically sparkle, “You need my help?!”

Gearing nods emphatically. “Please! I’d truly appreciate it!”

Patches snorts a huff of hot air in excitement as her horn glows. The sign hanging on the side of her booth flips around with the glow of her telekinesis as she flips the ‘Open for business!’ sign over to the side showing ‘Closed, come back later!’ and she practically squeals in delight, “You betcha! Let’s get started!” She grabs him and yanks him into her booth as she closes the outer part of it and starts dropping various cloths, to block the view inside the booth, with her telekinesis magic.

She practically prances in place as she asks, “What goodies you wantin’ to work on now?”

Gearing points a hoof at the box where she’d stashed the old riot gear barding as he says, “Well… First I need to modify the armor to fit me, if you still have it… then I need to make a weapon that Bottlecap says you have all of the supplies for.”

The metal box under the table flips open and things start pouring out and hovering in the air, including the set of riot armor, as Patches stands there and grins with her telekinetic field holding them all aloft for inspection. “Oh, that ‘snake bite’ thing? Yeah, I have everythin’ that was on your list.” She looks at the surgical tubing floating nearby as she says, “I don’t really get what you’re gonna do with all o’ this random junk, but just thinkin’ about it’s getting me excited!”

Gearing grabs the set of armor and starts looking it over as he asks, “And… do you know anything about Shadowbolt armor?”

Patches cringes as she asks, “You mean the pegasi military power armor? Hun, if you’re wantin’ a set o’ that… that’s another monster entirely… The Enclave aren’t gonna just cough that up.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment in confusion before he shakes his head as he looks at her. “No, I don’t need a set, that kind of thing won’t help me anyway… I wouldn’t want it. Can’t wear it. But I was wondering if I could commission you to make me a set of wing covers, like the kind the suit has.” He waves a wing through his cloak as he says, “I really need to keep these hidden as much as possible. I stick out way too much. Having a set that entirely covers them up is okay, but I still need to have something where it can break away in case I need the use of my wings.” As he’s sorting through one of his bags, and pulling out the ruined wreck that used to be his personally modified combat armor before a wagon exploded and a building tried to crush him, Patches uses her telekinesis and lifts up the side of Gearing’s cloak.

Gearing turns his head and looks at her with an eyebrow raised as she slowly trails a hoof over his crystalline wings.

Her eyes dart over to his, then back and forth a few times as she sheepishly smiles and realizes how badly she’s invading his personal space. But, she just can’t help herself as she traces along his wing’s edge carefully. “This is just… astounding… they actually let you fly? Not just for show?” After Gearing nods, Patches asks, “They were able to do somethin’ like this? I haven’t heard anythin’ about this so the experiments on getting’ earth ponies to fly must have been near the end o’ the war…”

“I’m not an earth pony,” Gearing says flatly. He narrows his eyes, and flutters his wings lightly as he says, “I am a pegasus,” with a grumble as the little blue pegasus in his head zips and bashes on random furniture in his mental space as it rages at having to say so yet again.

She pauses pawing at his wings long enough to direct her attention to his glare. “Oh… Oh, I’m sorry!” She returns her attention to his wing as she asks, “Well… isn’t this awkward…” She slowly continues to run her hoof along the leading edge of his wing as she examines it. “Sorry for gettin’ so hoovesy, but I need to figure out how to go about makin’ covers for these that can actually hold up to the edges and not just get ripped apart from the inside while you fly around.”

Gearing gives the faintest smile as he nods. “That’s fine. Go ahead. And, you’re right, it’s going to be a bit more of a problem than it would be for most. You might have to make some kind of support points along the metal leading edge and just bridge it over from point to point.”

She nods absentmindedly as she starts slowly extending out and manipulating around his wing with her hooves and her magic to get a sense of his range of motion as he lets the wing practically go lax. “Thanks… well… don’t worry, I’ll figure somethin’ out.” She fans his wing out entirely, to its max, and as the outer pinions gloriously fan out the smile on her face just gets wider as the colored lights glitter down around them. “I love a good challenge.”

Gearing smirks as he starts disassembling the ruined combat armor that had once protected him from so many dangers. “Well, that makes two of us.”

Footnote: Fragmentation errors in ‘credential matrix’ detected . . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .. .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Error . . .

60 Muddied Issues

As Handy, Swift, and Dandy are walking through the abandoned camps in front of Megamart they continue to talk about their plans for the rest of the day. The general gist and consensus of going off to find the missing buck’s caravan didn’t take long, but some of the specifics are still being negotiated as they head off to their first check point.

Especially from Handy’s point of view as he’s not enthused with having to go on, what he considers, a wild goose chase.

“I still have mixed feelings with leaving our stuff with that mare… We don’t know her. What if she decides to sell it while we’re gone, or tries to charge us a ridiculous storage fee, or something else stupid to get it back?” Handy asks with a frown as he keeps looking around.

“Handy,” Swift says with a grin a moment before she bumps him with her hip as they walk along. “If that scrawny unicorn tries some shit like that, I’ll string her up by her horn and use her as my personal pinata…”

Dandy rolls her eyes as she says, “That won’t be necessary… Happy Trails Trading Company is a well established caravan crew, and Happy Trails herself is also a member of the Finders. That’s why they have their own stall there at Megamart. You don’t get somewhere by screwing over your customers and ruining your reputation…”

Handy looks over Swift at Dandy and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “And? What are we gonna do if they do?” He huffs as he says sarcastically, “Boycott them then?”

Dandy looks over at him and narrows her eyes as she says, “That would amount to robbery, and Bottlecap wouldn’t stand for that shit in Megamart. It’d hurt the Finders’ reputation and Happy Trails would find herself in a shit load of trouble if she did. Nopony would be able to trust her again, and the Finders would have to do something to keep from getting dragged in the muck too… But, I’m telling you, Happy Trails isn’t like that, and she’s too grateful to us for going to find Lodestar for her to try something like that anyway. There’s so little to go on there’s no telling how long it’d take before anypony else would even bother to look at the job notice.”

“Happy?” Swift asks as she steps up next to him and continues on walking for a short distance with their sides pressing into each other.

Handy looks between Swift and Dandy as he asks, “Okay… but how about this lack of direction, like you just pointed out.” Swift sighs and hangs her head as Handy continues, “All we have to go on is where he’s supposed to have gone, and where he was coming back through, and when, that doesn’t really say where he is now, does it?”

Dandy smirks as she retorts, “Well, that’s part of our job, isn’t it? To find out where he is now.”

Swift straightens up as she nods. “Yup. One part tracking one part ass kicking.”

Dandy rolls her head before waving a hoof around as she rattles off, “It’s also one part investigation and, if necessary, one part rescue or body recovery… but… yeah.” She shakes her head as she continues trotting along on the barely dry dead or dying grass. “We’re going to start with his planned return trip, but in reverse. Then we just figure out where the last place he had been seen, and look between that one and the one where he hadn’t made it to yet. There’s bound to be something.”

Handy looks over at Dandy as he says, “Well how long are we going to look around for this buck? I’m telling ya, we’ve got things we need to do and places we need to go… namely: back home… We can’t be looking for some buck lost in the wastes, especially if he’s probably already dead and the only reason we’d want to find him is for the information he has.” He looks around at their surroundings as he mutters, “Dead bucks tell no tales…”

Dandy looks between the other two and frowns as she says, “Well, Happy Trails put in an official request with my company. So I’ve gotta give it at least a few days… If I don’t find hide nor hair of them by then, then it’s probably safe to assume they’re dead…”

“Or caught by slavers,” Swift chimes in as she looks back and forth between the two. “That’s been a problem, and if that’s the case we might still be able to get them out of it.”

Dandy shakes her head. “Depends on who got them… if they were working the Red Eye supply chain, they won’t be around very long after getting caught.” She looks between the two before frowning. “They usually have a very efficient transfer line set up to get them to Fillydelphia, so the window to rescue them is pretty damn small… But, on the other hoof, if it’s someone local, maybe Brimstone’s Fall or something, we might have a chance.”

Swift looks at Dandy and raises an eyebrow. “Wait… Isn’t that where that security mare is holed up?” She looks over at Handy. “That’s what those bounty hunters had said before they stampeded out, right? That they were headed to Brimstone’s Fall to get Security?”

Handy rocks his head side to side as he says, “I’m not sure, sounds about right though. Was a bunch of noise so I couldn’t really make all of it out.”

Swift snickers as she gives him a hip bump with her own. “You mean you weren’t even paying attention and were too focused on being grumpy at sitting and waiting on somepony that never showed up…”

Handy looks at her sideways and smirks as he gives her a hip bump in return. “That’s what I just said, ain’t it?”

Dandy grins as she looks between the two. “If Security is there, maybe she went to bust the place up? She hates slavers, it’s what got Usury and Redbeard so pissed off at her. So, if that’s the case, maybe she’s already freed them?” She raises a hoof for emphasis. “If he was sent to Brimstone’s Fall, that is.”

Swift looks over at her and frowns as she says, “From what I understand, it’s not good. Security was hurt pretty bad in the fighting apparently. So there’s no telling.”

Dandy frowns as she looks around. Then she stops in her tracks and looks behind them towards Megamart in the distance as a sudden thought strikes her. “Wait… And Gearing knew about this?” Swift nods. Dandy lets out a sigh as she asks, “Is he really going to catch up with us or did he sneak out and bolt off to try and help Security?”

Swift shakes her head. “No. He’s going to catch up with us once he gets his equipment sorted.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dandy asks as she raises an eyebrow towards Swift.

Swift gives a weak shrug as she continues on and replies, “Because he’s already making plans on what to do if someone did do something to Security. He seemed pretty convinced that him leaving now would solve nothing.” She looks over at Dandy and grins as she says, “He doesn’t like wasting time, so he’s not going to run off on a wild goose chase.”

The answer seems to mollify Dandy as she bobs her head around, and then nods as she continues on with them.

Handy rolls his eyes as he sighs, “You mean, he’s making us do the chasing of said geese while he sits back and plays at the shopping center?”

Swift grins and shrugs as she says, “Well, I’m better at tracking than he is… even Gearing admitted it.”

* * *

The group has continued traveling at a steady clip since leaving Megamart. Although, as the light starts to dim even further with the day coming to a close, Dandy starts slowing down. Unlike the other two, she’d already made one long trek that day. And been involved in one pretty serious fight. And, given everything that’s happened, she’s starting to have noticeable repercussions from the extended exertion. Which causes the other two to have to start checking their speed to keep from outpacing her too much.

But, despite the speed reducing discomfort Dandy’s experiencing, it’s Handy that complains about the situation as he stares at a small forest of dead trees. “What are we even doing way out here? There’s nothing even out here except dead grass and mud.”

As they continue through a portion of land that has a small dip in it, and thus held water from the most recent rain storms the longest, they have to be careful with the mud as in some places their hooves sink deeper than others and impede their travel.

Dandy grumbles as she tries to step from one less soggy patch of mud to the next, “There’s supposed to be a family that lives out here. Don’t ask me why. But they’re the last stop Lodestar was going to make before heading to Megamart. It’s the best place to start.”

Swift, hovering a couple feet off the ground and keeping her hooves clean as she circles around the other two, adds, “And the next places are even further way, Handy. That’s why we’re starting here.” She points at her PipBuck. “I’ve got the points marked and we’ll move on as we get information.”

Dandy looks down as she makes it to the other side of the particularly low area, and onto more solid ground, and frowns. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to need to stop at some point tonight and get some rest. It’s already been a long day and I don’t fancy running into trouble and being too exhausted to fight back.”

“I’m all for finding a place and holing up for the night, but there’s nothing out here. I’m not too tired to fight, but I can’t hit what I can’t see. And I’m not looking forward to getting in a fight when I can’t even see my own hoof in front of my face, let alone somepony else’s that’s trying to knock my block off…” Handy grumbles sourly.

“Hey, that must be it!” Swift says as she hovers over them and points in the general direction they are going.

The other two spare enough attention to focus on the building in the distance instead of where they are walking. As the other two continue on, Swift flies up even higher to get a better look, then comes back down near them as she says, “I only see a barn and a house… A simple two story. Nothing fancy.”

They head straight towards the house as directed, with Swift staying with the group and keeping an eye out as the others have to spend a lot of the time watching their footing in the muddy patches.

As they are crossing one of the muddy fields around the homestead, Dandy comments, “Watch the plants. They look like they’re trying hard to grow things here. If we stomp on their hard work they’re gonna be pissed, and I wouldn’t blame them.”

Handy frowns as he looks at one sickly plant after another and asks, “Well which ones are weeds and which ones crops? I’m not a farmer!”

Swift chuckles as she hovers above him. “Just avoid all of them, then… The dead grass might be okay to step on though.”

Dandy looks around as she says softly, “It’s amazing that anyone would try to make a go of it out here. Let alone succeed.” She looks at one of the bigger plants that seems to be trying it’s best to stand upright despite the environment around it. “Sort of…”

Swift starts lapping around them in the air as she puts a clean forehoof to her chin and muses, “Maybe that’s the reason they’re out here? I mean… who else would want to come all the way out here? This isn’t something you’d just stumble across… Not likely anyway… There’s nothing for a long way in any direction… so you’d pretty much already have to know where it was… And raiders and thieves aren’t going to go through all of the work to get out here without some guarantee of loot that was worth it…” She looks around at the fields surrounding them, then at the two story farmhouse they are quickly approaching and shakes her head. “And I’m just not seeing anything like that.”

Handy grumbles as he gets to a bit of a hoof path in the field and starts scraping and kicking off some of the caked on mud from his hooves. “I’ve heard of being dirt poor… but this is ridiculous…”

Once out of the muddy fields they vector around to the front door, as Swift flies in the air above and guides them to it. With the day ending, they can just barely see a dim light breaking through the cracks in the boards of the side of the house. A decent enough indicator for them that the house is actually currently occupied.

Dandy trots towards the door as she waves at Handy. “I’ll go and try and talk with them. I don’t think it’d be a good idea for all of us to crowd their door, it’d probably scare them.”

Swift nods as she flies over and hovers around Handy. “That makes sense. I’ll keep watch from back here in case anything happens.”

Dandy frowns as she’s getting closer to the front door. “I hope nothing does…” She stands a distance from the door, just off the stoop, and as she looks at the door her horn glows. A second later the door echoes out with a couple quick phantom raps that come in sync with increased flashes of overglow around Dandy’s horn.

Handy’s eyes go wide as he looks back and forth from the door to Swift. “Okay, that’d be hella useful to have around!”

Swift simply smirks and rolls her eyes at his fascination of basic magic.

Dandy keeps a couple paces away from the door and puts a hoof to her mouth as she calls in towards the door, “Excuse me! Is anypony home? I’m here on behalf of the Happy Trails Trading Company, we just wanna talk!”

The front door cracks open and a pale yellow young mare peeks out at them with her light green eyes wide with fright and confusion. The interior is so dark it’s impossible to see behind her and, indeed, the meager light coming from outside is greater than what is coming from behind the young mare. A circumstance that causes her young face to be one of the few clearly visible things for Dandy’s group. She zips her eyes around the front of her house, going from Dandy, and then shooting over to Handy. A split second later after staring at the unknown blue buck, her eyes are directed further up as she sees Swift flying around above them. And, as Swift and her lock eyes, the young mare simply follows her as Swift lands on the ground near Handy.

She zips her eyes around a bit more before turning her head and yelling loudly, “Mommaaaaa! There’s ‘nother peg’sus out herrrrre!”

The comment draws raised eyebrows from Swift, Handy, and Dandy before Swift and Handy look at each other sideways.

“What in tarnation?” an older mare’s voice responds back from deeper in the house before they hear the hooves of a quickly approaching pony. “They can’t possibly be here ta drop off more can they?”

The door opens wider and an older mare, the same pale yellow as the younger one, steps into the doorway wearing a poorly patched dress with an even more patched apron over her front. Her flaxen yellow mane with its pale yellow highlights seems to barely hold its sloppy bun shape as she looks back and forth between the three at her doorstep. She gently uses a forehoof, and pushes the curious young mare back into the house, and sideways around the doorframe, as she looks at Dandy and asks, “Can ah help ya?”

Dandy gives her a wide smile as she waves towards Handy and Swift. “We’re here on behalf of the Happy Trails Trading Company. I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re looking for a caravan led by a buck named Lodestar… Have you seen them around recently?”

The matronly mare nods as she gives them a warm smile. “Oh, yes. Ah know’em. He’s a friend of mah husband. Here, let me call’em, he’s probably still workin’ somewhere.” She steps out onto the door stoop and takes in a deep breath, making her chest expand to bulbous levels. And, with that bottled gush of air, yells out with a clear call so loud that Dandy stumbles around and takes a step back from the force of it. “Eeeeeex-UBER-aaaaaaance! We’s got comp’nay! Get on out here, ya hear?!”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he looks over at Swift as he nods towards the yellow mare, “I wonder what her rates are for calling Canterlot. Maybe you should have a chat with her to get some tips so the kids can hear ya.”

Swift looks at him sideways before leaning towards him and grinning. “Oh, they can hear us just fine… They just choose to only listen to me sometimes.” After snickering at his suddenly sullen disposition she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

One of the double doors of the barn, that’s already partially ajar, opens up more as the door is pushed out from the inside. A tawny brown pony walks out in a pair of dark blue overalls and a maroon shirt that has the foreleg sleeves carefully folded up just past the knee. He pulls out a kerchief from his coveralls pocket, and wipes a bit of rusty flakes and grime off his muzzle as he looks the newcomers over for a moment.

After wiping the rusty flakes from his lips he carefully stows the kerchief as he asks with a level of careful annunciation that one wouldn’t normally associate with farm ponies, “Good evening, my name’s Exuberance, how may we be of assistance?”

The yellow mare on the stoop nods towards them as she looks at the buck in the coveralls. “They’re here ‘bout Lodestar.”

The bucks green eyes go wide for a moment before he nods. He brushes his lime green mane back with a hoof, unintentionally transplanting a bit of grime from the work he’d been recently doing from his hoof onto it, as he says, “Is that so?”

Dandy nods as she looks between them. “Yes, sir. I was hoping you’d have a minute or two to talk about it.”

The buck gives her a firm nod as he says, “Absolutely. Maybe we can help each other with an exchange of information. Please, come inside my humble abode and we can discuss the matter further.” He turns his head towards the barn and calls out, “Sweets! I believe we have accomplished all we can for the day. Please come inside and bring the lamp with you.”

“Sure thing, pa!” a buck’s voice drawls from inside of the barn.

The yellow mare looks over at Dandy and Swift and smiles warmly as she steps to the side and motions towards the doorway. “Are ya’ll hungry? We got plenty ‘o vittles and ah was just ‘bout to get started makin’ supper.”

Handy’s eyes light up and the smile on his face just starts growing wider, earning him a few quick side glances from Swift.

Dandy returns the mare’s warm smile and dips her head in gratitude. “Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t want to intrude. I’d rather just talk about Lodestar if that’s okay with all of you.”

The yellow mare nods as she waves a hoof dismissively. “Oh that’s fine. It’s fine. If’n ya don’t mind though, ah’ll have to talk to you whiles cookin’, got a rambunctious lot in here an’ they ain’t too keen on waitin’ long.” She gives Dandy an even wider smile. “And if’n ya change yer mind, jus’ let me know and ah’ll serve ya up faster’n ya can shake a stick at it.”

While the conversation is going on, Swift quickly starts tapping on her PipBuck as she keeps giving sideways glances to Handy.

A walnut brown buck comes out of the barn with a pitchfork held in one hoof but leaned back and over his right shoulder with the prongs in the air. A still lit lantern hangs and bobbles around by its handle from the pitchfork’s prongs as he walks. He gently kicks backwards with one hindhoof, closing the barn door behind himself, before he trots over to join the others.

As the young stallion walks up to him, Exuberance motions towards his younger counterpart and says, “This is my eldest son, Sweets… and it’ll be no trouble at all. In truth, we’ve recently had a large bounty delivered to us and for once we might have some trouble consuming it before it turns. So there’s no need to feel shy about the offer.” He motions towards the door as he says, “Now, let’s get inside so we can talk about my dear friend. If we stand out too long, Hoofington will take it as a challenge and deliver a frightful downpour upon us.” He looks toward the stoop and smiles widely as he says, “Honeysuckle, my dearest, would you kindly get the lights.”

The yellow mare nods as she turns around and starts back into the house as she says, “Sounds like a mighty good idea… Parsnip, help me get all the lights on in here so ah can see what Imma doin’.”

“Yes, momma,” the young yellow mare’s voice calls out from near the doorframe before she scurries off and, one by one, other lights begin illuminating the inside of the modest two story dwelling.

As they start heading towards the front door, with Exuberance in the lead, Handy’s PipBuck alerts him to a message. He gives it a glance and instantly lets out a sigh.

[Handy, look at them. They don’t have much. I think they’re just trying to be polite. We have our own food, don’t go taking any of theirs. Make up something. Say we just ate or something. Anything. They look like the hardworking type so let them have their food AND their pride.]

Handy looks over at Sweets as he’s walking by. The hand-me-down farm clothes Sweets are wearing have been patched so many times it’s hard to tell where they’d originally gotten them from and what it looked like. Handy’s eyes trail over and bounce around between Sweets and Exuberance as he starts paying attention, and that’s when he starts noticing the frays and the worn fabric. Not to mention the dirt stains that seemed to have taken up permanent residence among the threads of both of the pony’s clothes. Even as well as Exuberance is trying to dress, his clothes are showing their age and overuse. And Handy starts wondering how many sets of clothes they have, and if, in fact, this is the only set of clothes they have to their name.

He lets out a sigh, as the thought of a fresh home cooked meal goes up in a puff of mental smoke before he looks over at Swift, exchanges eye contact, and gives her a quick nod of agreement.

The kiss she gives him in her excitement of him going along with it practically makes up for the potential loss, within the first few seconds, as he thoroughly, and involuntarily, ends up with his haunches on the ground as he sits on the ground, heedless of anything else around them as he’s temporarily lost to the smooch induced foggy headed bliss.

“You’re Sweets?” Dandy asks as he walks by and heads towards the door.

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at her as he gives her a crooked smile and tilts his head. “Mah right name’s Sweet Potato… but everypony jus’ calls me Sweets.” She gives him a wide grin and a nod of acknowledgement, causing him to turn and head into the house.

“Sweets huh?” Dandy asks as she watches him walk into the house. She leans sideways and her eyes trail down and over, expertly and minutely examining Sweet’s posterior as he’s going inside. “Ooooh yeah you certainly look sweet alright…” she mumbles as she leers. After her smile morphs into a goofy grin, and she’s leaning so far sideways she’s getting perilously close to falling over, she lets out a sharp squeal before she sits down, puts both forehooves over her head, and looks next to her. “Ow! Why’d you hit me in the head, Swift?!”

Swift bops her on the head again with her PipBuck laden hoof as she scowls at her. “Because we’re here for a bit of information, and that’s it. We need leads, not tails… Don’t go doing anything that’ll piss’em off and make’em not wanna talk to us anymore… Like trying to shack up with the family!”

Dandy rubs her head a bit more before she grins at her and gently bops herself on top of the head with a bare forehoof. “No… you’re right… But… you gotta admit, he’s got a cute butt though.”

Swift waves it away with a hoof as she starts into the house and says, “Eh… I’ve seen better.”

Dandy’s eyes trail down to Swift’s rear as she’s walking by, and her focus is glued to the toned muscles covered in sky blue fur, bopping along with each step, as she mutters, “Yeah… me too… me too…”

Handy’s face suddenly blocks her view as he leans over and arcs his neck so he’s looking her right in the face with his head in the middle of the line of sight between Swift and Dandy. Dandy shakes her head and recoils a bit before she gives him a sheepish grin and shrugs.

Handy looks back and forth from Swift, to Dandy, then snickers a bit before he mouths towards Dandy, ‘Me too.’

They share a giggle as they bring up the rear and enter the house as Dandy uses her telekinesis to scrape off the mud from her hooves and flicking it away before actually entering.

With the failing light of day, and despite the best efforts of the small lights scattered around the interior of the home, the humble two story house is pretty dimly lit. As Handy and Dandy join Swift, they take in the surroundings of the household.

Which provides them with a view that seems to confirm Swift’s previously mentioned concerns to Handy.

The interior is rather bare, with not nearly the amount of furniture or belongings that a house this size would normally be associated with having. And what is here, is either old beyond reason, most likely dating to even well before the war, or has been cobbled together from random supplies that have been piecemealed from various sources. There are a few freestanding cabinets that have stood the test of time, though even they are showing their age with centuries of wear. The cabinets of the old farmhouse’s kitchen are in even worse shape as half the doors are crooked or hang ajar, and one has even fallen off completely. Though it’s absence only helps to demonstrate how little there is for the doors to hide.

But then there are the couple shelves next to the combined living room and dining room area. Those shelves are absolutely packed, and actually draw a startled gasp from both Handy and Dandy. Upon those shelves, in complete juxtaposition of the abject poverty of the rest of the house, is a proverbial mountain of food. A near bumper crop in volume. There’s enough there that both of them are pretty sure these farmers could start a produce stand and be in business for at least a week with just what’s there.

The shuffling of hooves draws their attention as Honeysuckle waves a hoof in their direction and calls out sweetly, “Mind the door, ifn you’d be so kind. We’s try ta keep the pesky bugs out as much as we can.” She frowns and looks over at Dandy as she says, “The pesky varmints are a right nuisance!”

Handy politely shuts the door behind himself before turning back around to look over at Exuberance. But, his eyes trail around as he sees a few other faces sneaking around just beyond the lights reach and poking out just enough to look in at the new arrivals. But they remain on the fringes with no sign of being interested in getting any closer on their own.

As Sweets is setting the lantern down on a stool made of roughly hewn tree pieces, Swift asks, “What’s with the pitch fork? In the middle of a harvest?”

Sweets shakes his head and smiles. “Oh nah, not today anyhow.” He holds it up and twirls it around his right foreleg a bit, and then proceeds to do a few tricks where he does the same thing with it seemingly magnetically attached to his muzzle as he twirls it around by the center of the handle. He flicks it in the air, and catches it, before shouldering it and grinning at her again. “It’s jus’ gotta lotta use. Normal day? Jus’ turn’ the soil… On a good day, it’s good fer turn’ up some grub from the ground and gettn’ them stubborn taters ‘n carrots up… on bad days it’s good for chasing off varmints…” He bobs his head around as he adds, “Bloatsprites, roaches, thems sort of pests.”

Swift nods as she looks around at the homes interior. “Makes sense, and you’d have some extra food on the table that way too.”

“Heaven’s no!” Honeysuckle cries out as she takes a step back and puts a hoof to her chest. She looks Swift over before sticking her nose high in the air. “Ah dun mean no offense… but this here’s a strictly vegetarian household.” She shakes her head before giving an adorably prim nod of her head. “No meat what-so-ever.”

Swift smirks before waving it away with a hoof. “None taken. I just know some that’d find that a welcome extra source of food… But I suppose that isn’t such a concern for those living on a farm.”

“Ya’d be surprised,” Sweets quips as he rolls his eyes up and over towards the ceiling, simultaneously avoiding the dagger-eyed stare from Honeysuckle.

Exuberance nods a few times as he looks around. “Well, there shall be plenty of time for talking, exchanging stories, and getting to know each other shortly… before that…” He raises a hoof in the air, along with his snoot, for emphasis. “I believe proper introductions are in order…” He moves towards Sweets, who stands nearby casually leaning on his pitchfork, and says, “You’ve already met my eldest son; he’s the strapping young stallion with the farming implement in his hooves.” Sweets rolls his eyes as he smirks, but then looks at them and respectfully dips his head in their direction.

Exuberance walks over next to Honeysuckle, and leans sideways towards her, causing her to do the same and them to lean against each other. “And the gorgeous young filly with the mane of gold is my wife, Honeysuckle.” He gives a wide grin at them, but his eyes are turned sideways towards Honeysuckle’s, who giggles before turning and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looks over and behind Honeysuckle as he says, “And the doppelganger of my wife, with the green mane, is my daughter Parsnip.”

The pale yellow young mare with the light green mane that’d originally opened the door steps out from behind Exuberance and Honeysuckle and gives Swift’s group a courteous dip of her head as she says quietly, “Hello…”

Swift’s eyes jump around the shy young mare’s form, and quickly takes in the dress she’s wearing. While it wasn’t noticeable before, and indeed Swift doesn’t even know if she was even wearing it when she opened the door given how she’d stayed hidden, the dress looks rather unique. For the most part it’s the same tan color throughout. But over the entire surface of it is a collection of flowers along its entire surface. However, these aren’t embroidered in. Nor are they part of the weave, nor a result of some spell. Each individual flower is made up of fabric that has been cut up and sewn onto the surface. In a couple instances Swift can just barely make out where the flower is covering up a patch job where a hole had developed in it from one thing or another. A few of the flowers are even made out of fabric that had patterns in it already. A rather creative solution to the problem of not having much in the way of supplies.

Though the realization just reinforces her desire not to make their already rough situation any worse.

“Parsnip, honey, where’d yer lil’ brothers get off to?” Honeysuckle asks as she looks back at her daughter.

Parsnip looks up at her and points a hoof back by the stairs up to the second floor. “They’s hidin’ and tryn’a be all sneaky like so they can see who’s all here.”

“I’s ain’t sneakin’!” calls out a younger buck’s voice from near one of the old cabinets.

Honeysuckle snickers before she looks over at their guests. “Please don’t mind them none. We’s jus’ don’t get much comp’nay way out here.” She looks back over her shoulder where she’s pretty sure they’re hiding as she smiles and says, “They’s jus’ curious, that’s all. Don’t mean ta be rude.”

Exuberance nods a few times as he turns his head and looks back towards the dining room. “Quite right. Come along now… Cass… Cinnamon Roll. Come over and say hello.” He snickers as he shakes his head. “I assure you, they don’t bite.”

A young straw yellow buck with an olive green mane walks down the rest of the way from the stairs, as he’d moved there earlier to get closer to them, and steps into the light. He uses his forehoof and tips the oversized ratty straw hat upon his head as he says with a grin, “Howdy… Name’s Cassava, but ya’ll can call me ‘Cass’.”

Parsnip narrows her eyes at him as she says with a sigh, “Cass, yer even younger’n me, quit tryin’a be all impressive by actn’ older’n you are. It ain’t workin’!” She looks over at Swift’s group’s general direction as she limply waves a hoof at her brother, “He does this… all the time!”

“Ah do not!” Cass snaps at Parsnip. But, after she zips her attention back to him, he directs his attention elsewhere as he says, “Yer jus’ jealous of mah maturidy…”

“It’s mah-chur-it-tee… tumbleweed fer brains,” Parsnip says with a roll of her eyes as she slowly enunciates out each syllable.

Cass looks over at her, and then around the room, as he crosses his forelegs and leans sideways against a wall as he relaxes against it. “Tha’s what ah said, idnit?”

A young cinnamon pelted buck with a messy cream colored mane walks up next to Honeysuckle, opposite of Exuberance, and quietly observes the strangers. He’d barely stood still for a second before Honeysuckle’s foreleg whips over, grabs him, and draws him closer as she gushes, “There’s mah Cini-Mini!” She leans over and starts oppressively nuzzling his cheek with her own as she says, “He’s the youngest of the Roots clan and jus’ so adorable ah wanna eat’em up!”

The young buck starts struggling as his dark brown eyes bug out. “Maaaaa! Yer ‘baressin’ me! It’s bad ‘nuff ya named me ‘Cinnamon Roll’! Do ya really gotta do this too?! Awww shucks, come’on mah, yer makin’ me look bad in front of comp’nay!”

She pulls him in tighter, making his struggles even more futile as her foreleg muscles show that they are used to hard work, and squeezes him even harder. “Tuff luck, buckaroo! ‘cuz you’ll always be mah adorable lil colt!”

“Awww… Maaaa…” He struggles a bit more before he lets out a sigh. “Pa, help! Ma’s tryin’a snuggle me to death again!”

Exuberance tries to hide his smile behind a forehoof as he looks in the other direction and says flatly, “Sorry, son, but you’re alone on this one…”

Honeysuckle giggles as she gives Cinnamon Roll an extra squeezy snuggle before giving him a kiss on the cheek and letting him go. “MmmHMMM, yer never gonna escape my lovin’!” She grows a mischievous grin across her muzzle as she turns her head enough to look sideways at Exuberance as she says, “Jus’ ask yer, pa….”

Exuberance’s eyes jump wide open for a moment as his cheeks reveal just the faintest hint of a blush, before he covers his mouth with a hoof, coughs, and then says softly, “Quite…”

Honeysuckle giggles and gives him a kiss on the cheek before looking at Swift’s group. “Well, that’s everypony in our lil herd. Who might ya’ll be?”

Swift raises a hoof and waves at them as a whole as she says, “My name’s Swift, nice to meet you all.”

Handy raises a hoof and waves weakly as he says, “I’m Handy.”

A split second later Dandy adds, “And I’m Dandy.”

The farm family stares at the pair for a moment, and the youngest buck, free from his mother’s oppressive show of affection, snickers a moment before he asks, “So… ya’ll are Handy Dandy?”

Swift, Dandy, and Handy’s eyes all pop open wider for a moment, as it suddenly dawns on them.

Dandy and Handy look at each other, and then look at the farm ponies and say, in perfect unison, “No relation.”

This causes a chorus of snickers from the family before Parsnip asks, “Ya’ll practice that bit a lot, huh?”

Swift snickers and looks back at the pair as she grins and replies, “Actually… it’s the first time it’s come up…”

Exuberance smiles widely and gives a quick shake of his head before he says, “Well, now that introductions are over… You’d said you were wishing to discuss Lodestar?” He looks between them before he asks, “Did he send word?”

“Oh boy…” Dandy says with a groan as she slaps a hoof over her eyes.

Exuberance and Handy both look at her with a raised eyebrow, and Exuberance asks, “Pardon?”

Dandy jerks the hoof from her face towards him and waves it all away as she says with a frown, “If you’re asking that… that pretty much means he hasn’t been here yet either, and that even you’ve noticed he’s outside of his schedule.”

Exuberance’s eyes go wide, as he looks them all over. “Whatever do you mean? Has something happened to Lodestar?”

Dandy shrugs as she says, “That… is actually why we’re here. To find the answer to that question and, hopefully, find him.” She looks around at the others before raising a hoof slowly, “Lodestar and his whole convoy is missing. He’s days past due for checking in.”

Sweets stands up straight, looks between them, and then says to his father, “That’s… not like Uncle Lodestar…” He looks over at Dandy and nods with a strong bob of his head. “He’s a very punctual pony, and don’t take too kindly to his schedule gettin’ throwed off.”

Exuberance’s face darkens as he lets out a sigh. “My son’s correct. That is entirely out of character for him.” He looks at them, then around at his family, before looking at Dandy and asking, “Would you be so kind as to stay and fill me in on what all you know of the situation? Maybe, together, we can pool our knowledge and try to find out what has happened to him and his caravan. Possibly even hurry aid to him in case he needs it.”

Handy looks out one of the shuttered windows and lets out a low groan. “Well, I suppose. But we’ve come out all this way, and if you don’t know where he’s at, we really should get back on the trail to the next stop point. The longer we stay here the further we’re going to have to travel in the dark and I’m not looking forward to having to camp out in the open.” He looks over at Exuberance and frowns as he says, “I mean, there’s nothing around for a good long way except mud and dead trees. And those aren’t going to provide any shelter.”

Exuberance looks them over and shakes his head as he says, “We can’t offer much in the way of accommodations, but the barn is more than sufficient for the purposes of having a roof over your head while you rest. My boys are proof of that. They sneak off to nap out there all the time when they’re actively trying to avoid chores.”

“Hey! Ah do too!” Parsnip says with a scowl as she looks at her father. Everyone looks at her and she glances over at Swift as she says sheepishly, “Well… Ah do…” She waves a hoof dismissively as she says with a smile, “Up in the loft is all cozy like when ya have the hatch doors open. ‘Specially in the summah. Breeze come through, and ya can’t help but fall asleep on the straw.” She grins wider as she says, “Even the rainy weather is nice up in there. Hear’n’ it hit the tin roof is down right relax’n’!”

Sweets nods as he looks over at Handy with a wide grin. “She ain’t lyin’.”

Exuberance motions towards the table in the combined dining room and living room area as he says, “We’d be more than willing to offer you a place for the night and a meal in exchange for your time.” He chuckles a bit as he says, “There’s plenty currently, so there’s no need to feel like it’s an inconvenience for us.”

Dandy looks around at the humble farmhouse’s interior as she says, “Whether we decide to stay all night or not, I really need to sit down and get off my hooves for a bit at least. I’ve been walking all day and my hooves are killing me.”

“Well, that would be one ‘yes’,” Exuberance says with a wide smile as he looks over between Handy and Swift.

“Sounds like a plan, we can at least rest a bit and figure out what we’re going to do after that,” Swift comments as she looks back at Handy. Exuberance dips his head with a wider smile before looking over at Handy expectantly.

“Sure. Why not. I could use the break too after crawling through those mud pits to get here,” Handy says with a sigh as he capitulates to the break in travel. Although he still keeps reservations about having to travel in the open, in the middle of the night, with nowhere with shelter to stop along the way. But, for now, he decides he’ll keep that to himself.

Honeysuckle turns and starts heading toward the dining area as she says, “Ah’ll get supper ready, we can talk as we’re working.” As she’s heading away she adds, “Cini Mini, Parsnip, lend me a hoof would ya?”

“Awww, Maaaa, not in front of comp-nay… pleaasseee?” moans the young cinnamon buck as he dutifully trots after her.

“Yes, momma,” Parsnip replies as she hurries over to help with getting the meal ready.

Dandy starts following them over towards the table as she asks, “I’ll help too, if that’s okay? It’s not like I’ll really need to move much to do so.”

“On account of that bump on yer noggin?” the young buck asks as he looks back at her. “That thing really let you do magic ‘n’ stuff?”

Honeysuckle’s eyes go wide as she zips her focus over to look at him and hisses, “Cini Mini! That’s rude!” She looks over at Dandy and says apologetically, “Sorry, he’s jus’ not really seen any unicorns, on account of not gettin’ many folks out this way.”

Dandy giggles as she waves it away and stands near the dining room table. “It’s okay, really. Although I guess being out this far has its advantages. Not seeing many folks would mean the bad sort don’t bother you as often.”

Exuberance nods as he starts bringing bits of wood over from a stack near the wall and starts arranging it in the fireplace along the wall of the dining room. “An astute observation. It’s truly a miracle of fate and luck that Honeysuckle’s family settled in this particular area of Hoofington so long ago.” He starts slowly arranging the bits of wood in preparation for starting a fire as he adds, “It was so remote, it stood the test of the constant war, without damage, and wasn’t close enough to any of the direct hits to get destroyed when the war ended.” He uses a nearby lit lantern and a bit of kindling to get the fire started, and it doesn’t take long for it to begin slowly burning in the fireplace that, judging by the dark metal set into the stone work that becomes visible with the flame under it, functions as the home’s cooking location.

Handy looks back and forth before he asks, “Wait… Are you saying your family’s been here that long?!”

Honeysuckle pokes her head around one of the cabinets long enough to grin at him and bob her head as she replies, “That’s a fact!” She practically beams with pride as she says, “Mah family’s been tendin’ ta this here land fer centuries!” She reaches over and taps on the wall as she says, “Mah family raised this here house back when Luna was still on the moon. And it’s been getting’ passed down through the generations with it gettin’ taken over by the eldest daughter.” She gives a crooked smile as she says, “Ah hear tell we had more buildin’s… Ah big guest house where hired hooves would stay, and a second barn, couple silos… but those had to get taken down for parts to fix the homestead or traded away as buildin’ materials durin’ some bad times.” She stomps a hoof and nods as she says, “But the Roots’ family’s always been here, and we ain’t gonna give up any time soon.”

Handy looks over at Exuberance as he asks, “And how’d you wind up way out here?” He grins as he asks, “Mail order hubby?”

Honeysuckle giggles as Exuberance gives a slight chuckle of his own. He looks over at his wife, and the smile grows warm and tender before he says softly, “No… I’d just had some… fundamental disagreements with my family over how things were done, and left to find my own way in the world… I’d met Lodestar along the way, tagged along with his caravans when he and Happy Trails were just getting started… And through them I was introduced to the Roots family at a swap meet…” He shrugs as he looks back over at Handy, with the same glowing smile on his face, before he adds, “First time I saw her I knew… I believe the old trope is… ‘Fell in love with the farmer’s daughter’?”

Honeysuckle giggles and grows a faint blush to her cheeks before she says sheepishly, “Ya know, fancy pants, ya already got me. We’s got four youngins already, ya ain’t gotta keep up with that sweet talkin’ courtin’ nonsense...”

Parsnip sets some supplies on the table as she stares at her mother’s growing sheepishness and gently swaying tail. She leans towards Dandy and partially groans, “Pleasssse… stop them… Ah don’t wanna ‘nother lil brother!”

Dandy snickers before she looks over at Honeysuckle and calls out, “Honeysuckle, ma’am, how do ya want these vegetables cut up?”

Honeysuckle blinks a few times, then her ears perk up as she’s brought out of some world of thought all of her own. “Oh! Yes, dinner… here, Ah’ll show ya.” She trots over and smiles as she says, “Thank ya kindly, for the help.” She picks up a large knife and twirls it on her hoof, with an ease that even impresses Dandy, as she says, “Cini Mini, fill this here bowl with some apples and put some soup vittles in the other bowl… Let’s see how much ya remember!”

While they are getting started, Exuberance and Sweets start collecting dishes from the surrounding cabinetry and Cass brings in a dripping wet bucket from outside and starts dolling out water using a metal ladle into the various cups and mugs that get set out.

Cinnamon Roll rolls his eyes, but starts tossing one vegetable after another over towards the table from his position near the shelves. As they get close, Parsnip taps them into the appropriate bowl with timely pops of her shoulder or back, causing the produce to bounce off of her and land squarely in the dish where they are gathering their supplies. As they are performing this apparently regular routine, that seems blasé to them but impressive to the outsiders, Dandy scoops up a paring knife with her levitation magic and asks, “Do you want the apples peeled or how are you wanting to prepare them?”

Honeysuckle starts chopping, slicing, and dicing the various produce, pausing only long enough to say, “Ah’m thinkn’ of stuffed apples tonight… so if’n ya could hollow’em out and puts the insides in that little bowl next to ya, it’d be much appreciated.”

Dandy nods and starts whipping out one apple at a time with her levitation. The knife jabs into the top, zips around in a circle, then the inside gets pulled out by the stem and set aside. After getting through a couple apples Cinamon Roll comments, “Okay, that’s jus’ cheatn’! Looky here, she’s nearly done, and she ain’t even moved.”

Exuberance gives Cinamon Roll a narrow eyed stare, and the young buck promptly drops the accusation and inquisition as he busies himself with looking for one dried herb or another from their larder. Exuberance pushes a pair of water filled cups towards Swift and Handy as he says, “It’s not as pure as I would like, but it’s far superior to the regular dirty water others seem to think is passing.” He motions outside with a hoof as he says, “The barn’s tin roof is excellent for collecting rainwater, so we always have fresh water in our barrels.”

“A bit too much rain, usually,” Cass says glumly as he sips from his own cup.

Handy and Swift pickup their respective glasses and take a quick sip from them. And instantly their PipBucks let them know the water is certainly not pure. But, given the small tick, and the unnoticeable increase in their own radiation levels, they realize it’s definitely a negligible amount. And Handy starts wondering if what little is in there, is more a matter of leftover fallout being washed off of the roof, or from some other secondary contamination. But, regardless, that first sip scratches an itch in his throat that he didn’t realize he’d had until it was being soothed by the cool water. He starts regularly sipping from it and accidentally quickly drains the not so small glass he was provided with.

This earns him a grin from Exuberance and a chuckle from Cass as he uses the metal ladle in the bucket to refill Handy’s cup for him. “Not bad at all, ain’t it?”

Honeysuckle lets out a sigh and watches as Dandy quickly finishes the apples, and proceeds to start cutting up the other vegetables in the same manner Honeysuckle has been doing. “Thank ya kindly for the help, this’ll go even faster!” She pauses and raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Ya sure ya’ll don’t want anythin’ ta eat?”

Swift waves it away and doesn’t even look at her as she says, “I know I’m good. I might have to take a rain check though, with how good that’s starting to look. But I ate already. Earlier.” She looks sideways at Handy and raises an eyebrow as he sits in silence.

Handy pipes up, “Oh, no. Sorry. Thanks. I’m good. Just some water for me is all.” He motions between Swift and himself with a hoof as he says, “We already ate.”

Dandy looks over at Handy and Swift, exchanging eye contact with Swift for a moment before letting out a sigh and shaking her head as, on some level, she’s glad she isn’t the only one. “Thanks… but no… No thank you.”

Honeysuckle frowns and narrows her eyes as she asks, “Why? Ya eat too?”

Dandy looks around quickly, letting her eyes dart over to the absurdly stuffed larder, before looking back at Honeysuckle and giving a sheepish grin as she waves a hoof. “Oh… it’s not that… it’s just…” She looks around quickly before giving her a smile. “I’m just… not feeling well. A bit queasy… you know?” She shrugs. “I’m sure the food’s amazing but I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to eat now. Maybe it’s just my hooves, but I’m just feeling kinda blegh… You know?” She gives her a sheepish smile as she says, “Just got a lot going on at the moment with my aching hooves and feeling all nauseous.”

The comment draws raised eyebrows from both Honeysuckle and Exuberance. They look at each other sideways before Honeysuckle leans over the table and asks, “Honey… you pregnant?”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he spits and snorts out the water that was in his muzzle from his recent greedy chug from his mug, out into and around the cup with such force that the mist from it scatters out around him for several feet.

Dandy’s cheeks grow a pink tinge as she stares wide eyed at Honeysuckle. “T-that’s… I mean…”

Swift, unable to contain herself given the obvious opportunity, calls out nonchalantly, “Well, Dandy, that’s what you get for shaking up with Gearing.” Dandy’s head jerks over to stare at Swift, with her mouth hanging open and the blush traveling and growing out from her cheeks by the second. Swift giggles as she says, “That’s what happens when you decide to fool around with a buck like that…” She stretches out her neck towards Dandy as she grins devilishly. “I bet he didn’t stop until he made sure the job was good and done… Didn’t he?”

“B-but… it’s… that can’t…” Dandy stutters and stammers as she slowly turns red down her neck.

Swift gives her a mischievous grin as she says, “You really gonna sit there and lie and say you didn’t?” She narrows her eye as she says, “I already know you did, even if Gearing was being too much of a gentlestallion to kiss and tell.”

“B-but…”

Exuberance pulls out his kerchief from his pocket with a smirk on his face. He wipes the errant moisture, from the cloud Handy made, that’d fall down onto him off his cheek before he looks at Handy and says with a mischievous grin of his own, “You know, my father had the exact same reaction when I informed him that I was getting married, had a foal on the way, and I was renouncing my position and never coming back.” As he’s stuffing his kerchief back into his pocket he grins and comments, “One of the best decisions and moments of my life, I am still certain of it.”

“Oh, honey, ya shoulda said so sooner!” Honeysuckles squeals as her eyes go wide with a sudden extra shine in them. “I know all about how that is! No wonder ya wanted off yer hooves.” She zips away in a yellow blur, a few decorative pens coming out of her mane’s bun and falling to the ground from her sudden movement. A moment later she comes charging back into the room, with a stool and a couple pillows sitting on the seat top. She crams the seat under Dandy from behind, taking her off her feet* entirely and leaving her seated on the stool before she even realizes what’s going on. As she’s grabbing a metal basin from the lower shelf of one of the cabinets she calls out excitedly, “Parsnip, go on ‘round back and get me some of those herbs I kept telling ya ta leave alone. Jus’ a couple sprigs worth, but makes sure they’s got some of them fresh leaves on’em, ya hear?”

Parsnip jumps to action, snagging the lantern that Sweets had brought in with him as she’s bolting out the door with it as she replies, “Yes, momma!”

Honeysuckle comes back over and manually lifts Dandy’s hooves and places them so she’s lightly hanging them into the pan. Then she zips over to the fireplace where she sets a pot of water to boil, by hanging it by its wire handle from the fireplace’s swinging cooking crane. She fills a kettle with water, and sets it on a cast iron grill grate right next to the burning logs before zipping over to a cabinet and withdrawing an ancient looking ceramic teapot. As soon as the teapot is safely on the table, she turns into another golden blur as she zips around the larder and starts knocking down tins from the tall cabinets. She goes from one tin to the next, grabbing out bits of plant matter that has been dried to the point of being nearly unidentifiable and sticking them in a small bowl she carries with her before closing the container and flipping it back up onto its original spot. The next moment, after flicking the last tin up in the air, she’s back at the teapot, carefully loading it with the mixture of leafy material as she says, “This here old family recipe is jus’ what ya need, my dear!”

During the entire time, Swift, Dandy, and Handy watch in bafflement as their eyes dart back and forth while trying to keep up with the ridiculous speed of the darting mare as she zooms around the interior of the farmhouse.

Dandy raises her hoof towards her as the flush across her face reddens and spreads further, “T-thanks… b-b-but-”

“Hooves in the basin,” Honeysuckle snips and pushes Dandy’s hoof back down as Parsnip runs back inside with a collection of plant stems and leaves. Honeysuckle grabs the stems, strips the leaves off, and folds them carefully in half before giving them a light nip with her front teeth to partially crush them. She tosses the leaves into the basin, with a few other ingredients that she pulls out of her apron, before she happily trots over to the fireplace. She checks the water in the hanging pot, and after a few more moments of eyeballing it, she grabs it off the hook and quickly starts dumping it into the basin that Dandy’s hooves are in.

Dandy lets out a quiet shriek with an involuntary intake of air, as the water dumped on and around her hooves is exceedingly warm. Hot to the point of being more than she would be willing to touch if she had known in advance. But, not so hot to actually scald her. The temperature manages to sit perfectly on the fence at that strange threshold where the body thinks it’s being burnt, and the hide would indeed turn red, but it quickly adjusts and actually doesn’t feel too bad after getting past the initial shock.

Obviously expecting the reaction in advance, Honeysuckle already has her forehooves on Dandy’s legs, keeping Dandy’s hooves in the water, until she’s no longer struggling and gets past the initial shock. After Dandy’s legs have relaxed, from her getting used to the temperature, Honeysuckle goes about the task of brewing the pot of tea she’s been preparing.

As Dandy’s watching, the water around the crushed fresh leaves distorts a bit as the oils are drawn out and the dried material Honeysuckle had procured from her apron rehydrates and starts quickly expanding in the water. Slowly little streams of color seep out from the ingredients. Blues. Greens. Even some deep reds. All of them make little streamers that trail off and toward the surface of the water, but are carried at an angle as the water is still spinning in the basin from the initial pour, but not very much. It gives her the strange impression of a chromatic kelp forest popping into existence and growing right in front of her eyes as the colored streamers sway with the water.

Honeysuckle sets a tea cup down on the table next to Dandy as she says, “Here ya go, dear… The firs’ couple sips aren’t all that great, but it’ll get better the more ya drink, and it’ll help with makin’ ya feel better, I guarantee it,” and replaces the teapot that she’d just poured from without Dandy even noticing.

Dandy steadily turns pinkish down to her hooves as she nervously chuckles and floats the cup over to herself. She sits looking into it, watching a few of the pieces of leaves spin around in the cup of their own accord among the greenish gold colored liquid. She’s so flustered her magic wavers a bit, shaking the cup in midair from her unsteady concentration before she takes a sip from the cup.

The tea doesn’t even make it to the back of her throat before her eyes zip open to their max and she cringes from the sharp biting taste. She wasn’t ready for that, despite the previous warning, but manages to choke it down without spilling any.

“Jus’ give it a sec before takin’ another sip. It’ll get ta tastin’ better ‘n’ have ya feelin’ better soon, or ah’m not a Roots,” Honeysuckle says with a firm nod of her head.

A moment later, Dandy takes another sip, and, actually does find it’s almost palatable. Instead of that sharp cringe-worthy taste she was subjected to before, now it’s more of a bitter tea that’s possibly been brewed too strongly. She goes through a few cycles of this, under the watchful eye of Honeysuckle as she continues to prepare the rest of dinner. And, as advertised, the drink actually becomes tolerable and she can start sipping from it regularly. Though Dandy can’t help but wonder if the brew is altering her senses to make itself seem less offensive, or if it’s one of those acquired taste situations like cheap beer.

Which basically amounts to Stockholm syndrome for taste buds.

But, despite working on dinner, Honeysuckle refills the teacup for Dandy as it’s getting low. “Keep on sippin’ and drinkin’ from it fer as long as ya care to. If’n ya can handle the whole pot, it’ll do ya some good.” She smiles at Dandy as she’s using a stone pestle and mortar to break up some strange looking grains to add to her mixing bowl. “That should help with the nausea ‘n’ start relaxin’ ya. But, don’t force yerself ta eat yet if’n yer still not feelin’ it. The tea’s good, but yer tummy might still have a mind ta bounce it back out.” She nods over towards Cinnamon Roll as she says with a smirk, “That one spent ‘most the time he was in my belly trying ta buck out every lil thing I ate.”

“Awww… Maaa… Yer embaressin’ me!” Cinnamon Roll groans as he tries to hide his face behind an apron hanging from the corner of a cabinet.

Honeysuckle grins at him as she says, “Hey, fair’s fair… Yer the reason ah went from having jus’ one pot of each plant, ta needin’ an entire flower bed ta grow the plants fer mah tea mixin’s.”

“Mmhmm,” Parsnip says with a grin.

“Yup,” Cass adds without even looking.

“Took forever to get enough wood from the forest that wasn’t already rottin’ away,” Sweets muses as he rubs his chin with a forehoof.

“I believe finding the right location, that got just the right amount of light, but that we could protect well enough that pests wouldn’t destroy it and the rain wouldn’t simply beat them down to death, was the most trying aspect of it. Especially given the size requirements,” Exuberance adds with a smile.

Sweets chuckles as he looks over at his youngest brother, “Ain’t that the truth.”

Dandy nervously chuckles as she sips from her cup, and gets lost in her own thoughts.

Swift giggles as she shakes her head before looking at Exuberance. “Well, given the situation, would you mind telling us what you know? And after Dandy gets situated she can chime in with whatever bits she knows about everything.”

Exuberance chuckles as he nods. “That sounds like an excellent idea.” He taps on his chin for a moment before he waves the same hoof around in a circle. “Well, as I’d previously mentioned, I had joined the Happy Trails Caravan Company for a while as I was trying to find myself, figuratively of course… After I denounced my family, and The Society as a whole, I kept with Lodestar’s crew until my wife’s siblings left to try their luck down near Appleoosa. At that point it was just Honeysuckle, her father, and a very young Sweet Potato.” He nods towards his son and gets a sheepish smile in return before saying, “And when that happened, my priorities shifted from simply trying to make caps to bring home, to needing to actually help to take care of the farm itself. I knew they wouldn’t be able to do it all on their own.”

“Yeah, and he right impressed my daddy when he did too,” Honeysuckle chimes in. “He’d always be backbitin’ Exuberance. Talkin’ how Exuberance was nothin’ but a lazy fancy pants, like the rest of them Society types, and he’d take off at the firs’ sign of trouble or things started getting tough.” She grins and sways side to side as she partially closes her eyes and looks at Exuberance. “But that all stopped when my fancy pants came home, and traded in his travelin’ coat fer a plow harness.”

Exuberance chuckles as he looks over at Handy. “Yeah… He even passed on the family revolver to me.” He walks over to a cabinet, and pulls out a bundle of cloth. He unwraps it and holds it up for display as it’s carefully balanced on a forehoof. “It’s not even functional, I’m sure. But… It was a symbolic act, and I understood it even then. He was officially letting me know, in his own way, that he trusted me to protect his daughter and our home.” He brings it back and holds it to his chest as he smiles. “This hunk of rust is more valuable to me than anything my old family ever gave to me. Without exception.”

Swift, Handy, and Dandy look at it as he holds it aloft upon its cloth wrapping like a prized family heirloom. Because, it is. Though, just by looking at it any scavenger wouldn’t even bother wasting their carrying capacity with the thing. It’s so old and rusted that his suspicions of it not working don’t require a second, professional, opinion. The wood on the mouthgrip has become so split and worn, that it’s fragmented and fallen away, exposing most of the rusted metal frame underneath. Handy, while being far from the most knowledgeable pony when it comes to firearms, is still positive that the entire thing has probably seized up from rust. And, at this point, the only thing that could really be done with it is melt it down and use it for scrap metal. There would be no fixing it.

Not unless one would count replacing each and every component on it to the point that you now have an entirely new gun with no original pieces remaining.

Handy looks up from the family treasure to Exuberance and asks, “Okay, you’ve mentioned ‘The Society’ a couple times and-” He stops as he looks around at the various stares he gets. “Sorry, not from around here… so, I guess that’s a dumb question to most ponies?”

Exuberance lets out a sigh before he says, “The Society is an elitist group that set up a farm at a resort called the Elysium Country Club where they force other’s to do all of the actual work while they laze about.”

Swift’s focus jumps to him from Dandy, all mirth of her prank and its effects gone, as she asks, “You’re family’s a bunch of slavers?!”

“Hey!” comes a unified cry from all of the present members of Exuberance’s family. Except Exuberance himself.

Swift’s eyes jump around a bit from face to face before she smiles sheepishly and waves a hoof dismissively. “I don’t mean you, I mean his parents.”

Exuberance lets out a long sigh as he looks over at the other members of his family. “She speaks the truth though, I won’t diminish my own integrity by trying to deny my heritage. Nor am I blind to the fact that I had personally benefited from it…” This mollifies his family, but causes the youngest to sullenly look away. Exuberance looks over at Swift and says, “As for if they are slavers… that, would entirely depend on who you are asking…” He quickly stows the rusted revolver back where it was kept before he raises his right hoof and says, “If you ask them, they’ll tell you ‘no’. That they are simply providing food, housing, and security in exchange for work. That the ponies that work for them would die without them. That it’s mutually beneficial and amicable for all parties. That they are doing a good thing by taking care of the unwashed masses. That the ponies want to be there. That the ones that toil in the fields are lucky to be there…” He looks around at his own family as they stare back at him. After a moment he directs his attention to Swift and pointedly narrows his eyes as he sneers. “But, should you actually ask those ponies toiling in the fields, with a bomb around their neck? They would most certainly say ‘yes’.” He grabs his cup and swirls the water as he gazes into it. “As would any other sensible pony that didn’t have an invested interest to say otherwise…”

Noticing the extreme discomfort of Exuberance, and the sour change in atmosphere, Swift decides to interject to change the topic and simultaneously get back on track for their real goal of the conversation. “So where’s Lodestar come in with all of this, if you don’t work with him anymore?”

Exuberance blinks a few times before looking at her. He regards her for a few moments, then a smile crosses his muzzle as he seems to catch on to what she is kindly offering him. “We’d become pretty good friends while on the road. And stayed as such when I left. None of them begrudged me for leaving to take care of family obligations.” He rubs a hoof through the back of his mane as he looks at the table and lets out a sigh. “He knew the situation pretty well, he’d been acquaintances with the Roots before I’d met any of them. So he would adjust his route every now and then to see if there was any trading he could help us facilitate.” He pulls out his kerchief and wipes his muzzle again before he looks at Swift. “He generally lets me know when he plans on coming back by. In fact, his most recent trip here he scheduled with us has been one we’ve been counting down the days until he got here. And when he didn’t show up… Well things started looking pretty bleak if I’m being entirely honest about it.”

“How so?” Handy asks as he looks over at him while he continues to try and wipe his own spittle off of himself.

“Had more than a bit too much rain. It made a few of the crops just up and rot in the mud,” Sweets says with a sigh as he looks over at Handy.

“An’ a few others root rotted, fer the same reason ah reckon,” Cass adds as he hides his face under his straw hat.

Honeysuckle lets out a pained sigh as she pauses cooking long enough to look over the food she’s working on. She nods and resumes as she says, “It sure did start some rough times…”

Exuberance nods as he looks from one member of his family that speaks to the next before looking back at Swift. “We were actually counting on Lodestar to get here so we could swap some of our extra scrap and salvage for something to help get us by until more of the crops are ready.” He waves a hoof dismissively as he says, “We’d gotten to the point that any idea of trading surplus food was abandoned. We’d needed whatever we had for ourselves, and then some. So we were debating on what to do as we’d already started rationing what we did have.”

“But then those nice pegasus folks done zoomed in and saved the day!” Cinnamon Roll squeals as he bounces about excitedly, every now and then pointing a hoof over towards Swift.

Exuberance nods as he says, “That they did, son, that they did.”

Dandy looks over at him as she raises an eyebrow. “The Enclave? Why’d they stop here?”

Exuberance gives a sheepish smile as he says, “Well… the gentlestallion I’d talked to was looking for a port in the storm, so to speak…” He looks around between Swift, Handy, and Dandy, and, noticing the lack of understanding continues, “The Enclave is looking for a place where they can partner with somepony to help grow more crops and a point of access to transfer supplies.” He waves a hoof around as he says, “We still need to hammer out the details, but he said our place was perfect for what he had in mind. It’s remote enough that they don’t have to worry much about anyone sneaking up on it as they can keep an eye on it easily from the air. Furthermore, there’s possibility of setting up another salvage hub here, like they have at the Skyport, for the same reasons. The pegasi are in need of raw materials, and we were told if we cooperated with them, they’d be willing to have a dedicated team to help manage our local weather in exchange for a portion of the crops we produce.” He points a hoof over towards the shelves crammed with food as he says, “They were so eager to please they even brought all of this food to try and win us over.” He grows a warm smile across his muzzle as he says, “Finally some luck is starting to shine on us. And I was going to talk with Lodestar to negotiate exclusive rights for him and the Happy Trails Trading Company to set up a salvage trade booth here. They have helped us out so much over the years to keep us going that it only seems fitting to help bring them in at the ground level for something that’s going to be so lucrative.” He chuckles and waves a hoof. “Assuming everything goes according to plan, that is.”

“When was the last time you’d seen Lodestar?” Swift asks as she looks around at the family.

“Two weeks ago, yesterday. And, to answer your next question, he had planned to stop by here on his way to Megamart the day before yesterday. Yesterday morning at the worst of it.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks, “That means he’s really only been missing like a day tops…” He looks over at Swift as he asks, “Isn’t that a bit soon to be sending out search parties?”

“Like ah done said… Uncle Lodestar always been a very punctual pony… Even when ah was a youngin’ and Pa was out with him on the trail, he’d be able to tell me when they’d be back, and, regardless of the distance, he was right. Ah think the furthest off he’d been is fifteen minutes… and that was fifteen minutes early,” Sweets says as he looks over at Handy.

“The longer you wait, the less likely you’re looking for a pony and more trying to recover remains,” Dandy adds with a sigh as she looks at her cup. She looks over at Handy and frowns as she says, “With the slave trade, if they’re caught, or they get ambushed, you wait too long and there’s no point to even bothering after so long. Especially around the Hoof.”

Exuberance nods as he looks over at Handy and juts his chin towards Sweets. “My eldest is correct. Lodestar has an uncanny ability to judge how long it will take to get somewhere and the best way to do it. Finding shortcuts, safe traversable paths, even through areas he’s never been in before. Finding a way to get where he needs to get to, when he needs to get there, is kind of his own special talent.”

As Honeysuckle is ushering her children to the table, and starts dishing out servings from what she’d cooked, Dandy stares at her hooves as she says, “I guess our next stop is Stockyard then. See if they’ve seen him, and if not go from there.”

“Stockyard?” Exuberance asks. After catching eye contact with Dandy he asks, “He was going straight from Stockyard to here?”

Exuberance’s family, receiving approval from Honeysuckle, go ahead and start eating as they sit and watch the conversation taking place but are otherwise quiet. Even going so far as to try and eat as quietly as they can so they don’t miss anything that’s being said.

Dandy nods as she says, “Yeah, that’s what Happy Trails said, why?”

Exuberance looks over at Swift and points at her foreleg. “In that case, I know the route he normally takes. If you would be so kind as to allow me to show you on your PipBuck, you’ll see what I mean.” He looks over at Dandy as he grins. “Whenever he comes here from Stockyard, he doesn’t take a straight path. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but that’s what he says is best. And it’s never steered us wrong before.”

Exuberance walks over and looks at the PipBuck’s screen as Swift brings up the function and offers him a look. Exuberance uses a forehoof and carefully traces the path after zooming in and adjusting the map to the correct area around them.

“You seem to know a fair bit about PipBucks,” Handy comments as he watches Exuberance operating Swift’s.

Exuberance nods without looking up. “A few members of the Society had them as adornments… then there were other stable ponies that had left their stables and gone out and about. Finders Keepers, the buck that was the genesis of The Finders, is an ex-stable pony and, as far as I’m aware, still walks around with his own PipBuck.”

Swift looks at it and starts setting up a marker on the map. Then she grabs out a piece of paper from her saddle bag, and quickly draws out the relative path he’d shown her along with whatever grid points and landmarks she can make out on the PipBuck’s map with a deftly applied mouth scrawl.

Exuberance sighs as he looks back and forth between Swift and Handy. “You are free to do as you wish, of course, but if you would care to at least listen to the advice of somepony who’s traveled with him, and on that path explicitly…” He shakes his head. “Traveling along that way overnight is not the best idea if you’re trying to find somepony. If they have holed up somewhere along the way, you’re not going to easily find him in the dark. And if you simply run around yelling for them you are going to attract a lot of unwanted attention once you get closer to Stockyard.” He waves a hoof as he quickly rattles off, “Raiders, bandits, slavers, ghouls, hostile wild life, you name it. If any of that hears you coming, you’ll likely stumble into an ambush in the middle of the night. There are a lot of unsavory sorts through there.”

Dandy nods as she says with a groan, “Yeah, he’s not kidding… me and Gearing just did a contract to take out a building full of raiders out near Stockyard this morning. There were so many of them it was ridiculous… I’ve seen entire settlements with fewer ponies staying there…”

Exuberance tilts his head as he looks at her, and then he smirks as he points a hoof towards the basin where she currently has her hooves soaking in the medicated bath. “Are you referring to that Gearing?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide open as the flush instantly returns from the tip of her ears to down her neck as Swift childishly snickers off to the side.

“I’ll assume that is a ‘yes’,” Exuberance adds with a grin. He looks around at the others and says with a sigh, “It’s too bad he’s not here then. If you two were that capable at fighting, I’m sure he’d be invaluable in helping make the trip safer for everypony overall.”

“He’s on his way, he just had to get some more equipment sorted before he catches up with us,” Dandy says softly as she casts her gaze down and tries to will the flustering feeling away.

“Hey, he’s not the only good fighter… Me and Handy have taken out plenty of drugged out gangers, raiders, and other road trash that thinks it’s a good idea to attack my family,” Swift comments as she waves her powerhoof laden foreleg.

Dandy slowly takes another sip of the tea she’s been nursing before she says, “Yeah, and I’m not exactly helpless either. Even alone… Besides I’m pretty sure having one Reaper in the group is enough to handle pretty much anything we come across… Having two would just be overkill…” She looks up at Exuberance as she adds, “So not all that worried about it. But, you’re right, discretion is the better part of valor.”

Cass coughs and sputters on his vegetable stew, causing Honeysuckle to reach over and start hitting him on the back as he keeps coughing because a stray bit went down the wrong tube. The rest stare at them open mouthed and shocked into silence before Cass blurts out in a raspy half-choked voice, “Ya’lls Reapers?!”

Swift gives the young buck a smug grin before trailing her focus, and grin, at Exuberance. “Well, that’s what Big Daddy said, anyway… yeah.”

The others look over at Handy and he quickly waves it off and doesn’t even look at them as he says, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t take part in that cage fight nonsense.”

“So…” Honeysuckle says softly before looking over at Dandy.

Dandy gives her a sheepish smile back as she says, “Yeah… That Gearing.” Before she lifts a hoof out of the basin long enough to point down at it a couple times before returning to soak it. “Which is why I’m not worried about him catching up with us; he can definitely take care of himself.” Her eyes go a bit wider as she nods and thinks back to the gang fight the day before. “I’ve seen what he can do… The aftermath of it anyway…”

Cass leans over the table and grins as he asks, “Oh? Like what?”

Dandy looks over at him and asks with a raised eyebrow, “You ponies ever heard of a psychopath named Cookie?”

“Uh… let’s not talk about that… please,” Honeysuckle says with a frown as she looks at Dandy.

Dandy looks at her, then around at the wide eyed look of Parsnip and the other younger members of the family. Dandy waves it away nonchalantly with a forehoof before she says, “Oh, I won’t get into any details-”

“Miss Dandy,” Honeysuckle starts.

“He’s dead,” Dandy says quickly as she looks at Honeysuckle.

Honeysuckle’s eyes go wide before she looks around at the others. “What? Who?”

“Cookie… Hell, his whole gang… We took them out yesterday afternoon… Gearing killed Cookie himself, gave him a taste of his own medicine and made him eat his own flamer.”

Swift rolls her eyes as she sighs. “That’s probably why he hung back. Got the bounty payout and decided to upgrade his toys since he was already at Megamart…”

Dandy grins at her as she nods. “Considering the payout for that whole ordeal, yeah… It was substantial.”

Exuberance looks between them quickly as he raises a forehoof to get their attention. “Excuse me… but… Am I understanding this correctly?” They all turn to look at him and he asks softly, “Did Happy Trails really send two Reapers to track down and find Lodestar?” He looks between them again before he sits down right where he was standing. “Just what kind of trouble do they think he’s gotten himself into?!”

Dandy looks over at him and smirks, “Actually… I doubt Happy Trails realizes what she asked, and who she asked…” To the quizzical look she gets from Exuberance, she turns her head pointedly at Handy and awaits the response. To which Exuberance quickly starts looking back and forth as he’s waiting for someone, anyone, to fill him in.

Handy chuckles as he waves a hoof. “Actually… We’re just looking for some equipment, and apparently everypony has pointed us towards Lodestar as the one that’d know where to get it at.” He shrugs. “We’ve been waiting on him to get back, at Megamart, but he’s still not made it there. So Happy Trails wanted someone to go find him, and we figured…” He shrugs and smirks. “Why not? I mean, it’s not like we’re doing anything anyway, at least this way we can be proactive.”

“I reaaaalllyyy need some exercise too,” Swift says with a groan as she starts stretching out in various directions.

Dandy nods as she looks back over towards Exuberance. “But Happy Trails put in an official request with my company, so that’s why I’m here.”

Exuberance slowly shakes his head as he starts to smirk. “He’s got two Reapers coming to help him…” He shakes his head and grins. “Celestia help anypony unfortunate enough to stand opposed to you. I do not foresee that ending well for them.”

Swift grins as she slowly taps her powerhoof on the floor. “If everything up till now is any indicator… Celestia takes a break whenever we trot through and somepony’s dumb enough to make me get serious.”

Handy lets out a sigh as he says, “You know you shouldn’t be all proud and bragging about all of that, right? That’s not normal…”

Swift looks over at him and tilts her head as she gives him a crooked smirk. “You’re just jealous because my Wild Ones number was higher.” She gives a pointed swish and snap of her tail as she keeps her focus on him.

Handy narrows his eyes, and then smirks as he looks away. “You just got lucky that time, that’s all… Not my fault I picked the path that the Freight Cars already mostly cleared out…”

Swift starts rotating her shoulders and flexing her foreleg muscles as she asks, “Oh yeah?” She hops over and looks him face to face as she’s almost touching her forehead to his as she asks, “Want another round then? How about if anything’s happened to Lodestar we track down whoever did it and see who can crack the most skulls?”

“You’re on!” Handy says with a grin as he leans in, and pushes his forehead against hers.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with ya!” Swift says with a wider grin as she pushes against his head more, causing the fur on their foreheads to mash into each other.

“In your dreams!” Handy retorts.

“You wanna go?! We’ll go!”

“Right now!?”

Exuberance smiles crookedly as he says, “Umm… please… if you two are going to fight… I… Respectfully… Very respectfully, request that you please step outside to do so and that you try to minimize the property damage.”

Parsnip props her head up with a forehoof that she has resting on the dining room table as she says with a smirk, “Awww why don’t you jus’ kiss’er already?”

Dandy looks over at Exuberance as she smirks, “Yeeaaaah, I don’t think you’re thinking of the same kind of pounding that they are…” Exuberance’s head zips over to look at her, earning a string of giggles from the peanut gallery around the dining room table, before Dandy looks over at Swift and Handy and says, “Hey… if you two are going to be doing any of that… There’s children present, have some dignity, go use the barn!”

Exuberance and Honeysuckle both slap a hoof over their face, but Honeysuckle quickly starts quietly giggling before she starts dishing out baked apples that have been stuffed with some kind of grain mixture for dessert to her children.

Handy looks over at them absolutely appalled, with his mouth hanging open. And the flush on his cheeks only spreads further as Swift says with a grin, “Sounds like as good of an idea as any.” Then she leans in and gives him a long tender kiss, right on his rapidly brightening cheek. Which just draws another round of giggles from all of the table’s current population. Dandy included.

As the children help to clear the table and clean the used dishes, Honeysuckle asks, “How’s yer hooves feelin’ now?”

Dandy looks down at them and lifts them as she smiles sheepishly. “They feel… weird… but in a good way…” She looks over at Honeysuckle and tilts her head as she says, “It’s going to sound weird, I know, but my hooves have that cooling tingling sensation like you get when you chew on some kind of mint.”

Honeysuckle grins as she nods. “That means it’s workin’. It’s probably been long ‘nuff fer it ta last a while, but, if’n ya want, ya can just sit right there as long as ya like.” She looks Dandy over before she looks her in the eye and smiles. “How’s the tummy treatin’ ya now? Feel like eatin’ yet?”

Dandy flushes a bit as she looks at the uneaten prepared food and the piles of fresh food on the shelves around them. She slowly shakes her head as she says, “No, no thank you.”

Exuberance looks at her, and then over at Handy and Swift as he says, “Well, have you given my offer some more consideration? Will you stay and accept our hospitality, such as it is?”

Handy nods as he looks over at Swift, “I’m up for staying if you are. We can just head out before sunrise and it shouldn’t hold us back much at all since the dark itself will slow the search even if we left right now. What do you think?”

Swift nods as she looks between him and Dandy. “Sounds like a good idea, actually. We’ll cover ground faster in the daylight.”

Exuberance grins. “Great!” He looks over at the table, and then back at them again before asking, yet again, “You sure you don’t want to try some of my lovely wife’s cooking? I tell you it’s positively to die for. It’s amazing what she can do.” Swift and Handy both, simultaneously, shake her heads and wave it off with a respective hoof. Exuberance nods as he heads over towards the table. “Then, if you don’t mind, I think I will partake. And if you are up for it, we can talk more and swap stories before turning in for the evening.”

As Swift and Handy move over to stand near Dandy, Cinnamon Roll leans over and whispers in his mother’s ear as he gives her a sheepish grin.

Honeysuckle grins, grabs him with a forehoof, and pulls him into another hug as she abrasively nuzzles his cheek with her own. “Of course mah lil Cini Mini.” She gets up and fetches a few of the dishes she used earlier as Cinnamon Roll excitedly runs over to the larder and starts relaying apples onto the dining table. Honeysuckle looks over at Dandy and asks, “Dandy, since yer so good at it ‘n’ all, would ya mind hollowin’ out some more apples? Ah’m gonna make ‘nother batch of stuffed apples.”

Dandy’s horn glows and she quickly gets to work with the paring knife as she replies, “Sure thing!”

Over the next couple of hours they spend their time enjoying each other’s company as they swap stories and, those that care to, eating more along the way. With the Roots family mainly sharing anecdotes of silly things the children had done growing up, and small tidbits of knowledge that they did know about the hoof. Swift, Handy, and Dandy, for their part, all share various bits of news and experiences they’ve had from their own travels, and more details from outside of the Hoof. The Roots family sit politely and attentively, as they are enthralled by all of the bits of news. Their practical isolation becomes apparent as they are painfully interested in even the smallest of details that can be spared. Dandy ends up being the focus of quite a few questions as her career as a bounty hunter and hired hoof drew many flights of fancy from the younger Roots family members’ imaginations.

Eventually Sweets is the first to excuse himself to go to bed as he nods for the rest to follow and says, “Need to get an early start, and unless ya’ll wanna be dragging hooves all day, best get ta gettin’ some sleep now.”

His siblings start following him upstairs and Cinnamon Roll says quietly to Cass with a happy groan, “It’s so nice goin’ ta bed full… it kinda hurts, but a good kinda hurt.”

“Yeah,” Cass agrees, then replies quietly, “Better than tryn’ ta sleep with the growls…”

As they watch, Cass, Cinnamon Roll, Sweets, and Parsnip, all disappear into the first door of the upstairs, that overlooks the dining room area, and close it behind themselves.

Dandy’s eyes trail from side to side looking at the upper level as she listens carefully. But, from the hooffalls, she can tell they’re all sharing the same bedroom accommodations as none of them split off to some other unseen area behind the door. She can’t help but wonder if they have their own bed, or bunk beds. Or if they even have a bed to sleep in given how little they seem to have here.

A slight sniffle draws her attention, where she looks over and sees Honeysuckle with her head low, trying to hide her face with a hoof as she very slowly adjusts plates with her other forehoof and intentionally prolongs the time it takes her to stack the remaining dishes.

Dandy leans towards her and asks quietly, “What’s wrong? You okay, Honeysuckle?”

Honeysuckle pauses, and swallows hard before saying, “Ah’m alright.”

Exuberance walks around the table and sits next to her, putting his foreleg around her and holding her to him before he says, “As I’d mentioned… We’ve been facing some rather difficult times lately.”

“Ah don’t like the idea of mah babies goin’ to bed hungry, not one bit… Sure we got more’n plenty now, but ah feel like such a failure as a mother… Like ah shoulda just kicked off my foolish pride ‘n’ let the wasteland have the farm, and go elsewhere… What’s the point of keepin’ mah family’s farm, if’n it costs me mah children?” Honeysuckle says with a choke as she buries her face in the side of Exuberance’s neck.

Exuberance rocks her and rubs her shoulder as he says, “Now now, it won’t come to that… We just have to tighten our belts during the lean times.” He looks over at Handy and says, “That dead forest nearby has quite a bit of salvage in it still. Mostly skywagons that dropped right out of the air and crashed there.” He shrugs. “The kids like playing out there anyway, so we make a game of finding things and bringing it back when we’re not otherwise busy with the farm.” He nods out towards the barn. “We store any salvage or scrap metal in the barn and trade it to Lodestar if he’s coming through... and if he’s not going to be coming through anytime soon, but we really need to trade, a couple of us hoof it over to Stockyard or Megamart. It’s not a lot but it helps to supplement our needs.” He lets out a sigh as he rests his chin on the top of Honeysuckle’s head as he says, “We just got hit with a string of bad luck all at once, including what’s happened to Lodestar.” He gives a faint smile, “I suppose the lesson to take away from this is the folly of taking ponies and conveniences for granted…”

Honeysuckle snickers, but it’s a near sobbing sad laugh before she says, “Thank Celestia fer the pegasi… Nevah thought ah’d say somethin’ like that. But they’d really been an answered prayer.”

“Yeah… but still…” Exuberance says as he looks over at the shelves of food.

Honeysuckle pulls back and looks up at him. “What?”

Exuberance looks at her, then over at Swift. “I’m grateful for the timing and all, make no mistake, but I know Elysium produce when I see it.” He shakes his head. “There’s no way they got that kind of fresh produce from other farms around here… And I know what produce from cloud seed farms look like too.” He shakes his head. “No. They bought that from the Society, and brought it out here to us.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’m not naive, I can see how desperate they must be for this trade to go through, with their efforts to impress and bribe us, but I just don’t like the thought of benefiting from slave labor… again.”

Honeysuckle looks over at the food, and then at him as she gives it careful consideration. After a few moments, she gently caresses his cheek with a forehoof as she directs him to look her in the eye. “Darlin’, ah know how it feels to have to swallow yer pride… But… this is a big opportunity… Not jus’ fer now… but fer later too.” She smiles at him as she says, “Remember how ya useta rant and rave like a mad hare ‘bout yer folks while beatin’ the tar outta the soil? About how if’n ya could you’d prove that good farms didn’t need slave labor? Well… With the pegasi fixin’ the weather to keep things right, we can do exactly that.” She taps him on his chest and grins. “Then ya can take yer success, and shove one giant ‘Ah told ya so!’ note right up their tailpipe!” She tilts her head and smiles. “Who knows… we do well enough, we might even put them and their horrid slavin’ ways outta business!”

Exuberance chuckles as he says, “Delusions of grandeur, I assure you… but… still.” He caresses her cheek in kind for a few seconds and then gives her a soft kiss. “It certainly is a pleasant thought.”

“Darn tootn’!”

“I must say, I’ve never heard anyone from the Society talk like that before,” Dandy comments as she looks over at Swift. “All of the ones I’ve run into have seemed to be holier than thou, self-important entitled jackasses…” She looks over at Exuberance and cringes a bit as she gives him a sheepish smile and replies, “Sorry.”

Exuberance laughs before shaking his head. “No offense taken. They seem that way, because they are that way…” He looks over at Handy and frowns as he says, “They never spared an opportunity to let me know how much of a disappointment I was to them. Especially when I expressed interest in, Celestia forbid, manual labor and working with the soil!” He rolls his eyes. “It’s why I left on my little adventure, to find out what the world was really like.”

“And?” Handy asks with a raised eyebrow.

“And… it sucked. And was as bad, or worse, than everything I’d been told thus far… but there were many other things that were better,” Exuberance replies.

“So they kicked you out?” Swift asks as she looks around. “Because you decided to settle down with someone from the outside?”

Exuberance grins as he says, “Like everything involving the Society… it depends on who you ask.” He gives Honeysuckle an extra squeeze with his forehoof before he says, “If you ask them, especially my parents… they’ll tell you I was excommunicated for trying to incite rebellion or undermining them or for gross dereliction of duty… The latter point being exceedingly humorous to me because, as far as I could ever tell, they never really did anything except laze about, and plot against each other to try and gain some kind of phantasmal lead in power.

Swift grins as she asks, “So if that’s what they say… what really happened?”

Exuberance nods at her before replying, “Astute observation… Well… The excommunication aspect of it was rather a surprise to me…” He grins at her. “Considering I found out about it months after I denounced the whole group as nothing more than better-than-average spoken bandit slavers…” He frowns as he says, “I went back to visit, and update them, and let my parents know a grandfoal would be joining us soon. I wasn’t looking for any kind of support, money, or even to bring them with me to join the Society. I just wanted to keep in touch and offer an olive branch for the sake of my own children getting to know their heritage.” He lets out a disgruntled snarl as he sneers. “Instead… they demanded I come back. And abandon Honeysuckle. They were even openly plotting to send someone to either kill her or make her lose the foal while I was standing right there. Because apparently having an heir like that would be an unacceptable scandal for them.” He shakes his head. “I just lost it.”

“Well good for you for standing up to them. Overbearing worthless parents are the absolute worst!” Swift says with a snort and roll of her eyes.

“Well, maybe. But I nearly got myself killed in my anger. It was not my most shining moment, I admit.” Exuberance says as he directs his gaze towards the table.

“Nonsense! Ah think it was one of yer best!” Honeysuckle says as she nuzzles Exuberance’s neck. After seeing the confused looks from Swift and Handy she smiles widely as she says, “Mah fancy pants kicked his daddy’s keester all over the place… From what ah hear tell, his pa still walks ‘round with a limp from the ass whoopn’ Exuberance gave him.”

Exuberance’s frown turns into a crooked smile that he can’t seem to keep off his muzzle. “Quite…” He looks up at Swift and adds, “Unlike father, I had earned some hard won experience and knowledge while traveling with the caravans. Luckily since no weapons were involved, and it was a family dispute, security didn’t get involved and the others merely stood back and watched. I’m certain they found the display quite entertaining.” He lets his gaze drift over towards Dandy before he lets out a sigh.

She returns his gaze for a moment before asking, “What is it?”

“Do you have any other information? On Lodestar, I mean. If you would be so kind, would you give me your honest opinion on his chances?”

Everyone looks over at Dandy as she looks into her cup. As she gives it some careful consideration, she pours herself the last of the tea from the old teapot into her cup using her telekinesis to do everything so she doesn’t have to move.

“It’s okay to eat the leaves too. If’n ya want and feelin’ up to it anyhow,” Honeysuckle offers from her cozy potion against Exuberance.

Dandy nods with a smile, as she sees several bits of plant material do indeed come out with the last of the liquid. After taking a careful sip from her hovering cup she finally directs her attention towards Exuberance. “In a phrase… ‘Not Good’.” The answer instantly chisels a crestfallen expression across Exuberance’s features. Dandy shrugs before she says, “I’m not saying he’s definitely dead… or has been snagged by slavers, but I am certain something has happened. What that something is, I don’t have a clue. What I do know is that he made it out of the Hoofington bowl, completed everything he was doing down there, and was heading back. The last time he checked in he sent word via somepony’s radio that he was going to cross over into the Hoof… So we’re not even sure if he even made it back to Hoofington, or if something happened during his crossing… So we’re back tracking his planned route in reverse back to the mountain range… Which leaves a lot of possibilities of having some kind of accident and getting stranded. Or maybe they’ve had to hole up somewhere because they got boxed in by ghouls, raiders, whatever… There’s just no telling. But, at this point, he really needs help if he’s still alive. The whole caravan, probably.”

“Or at least a swift kick in the rear for not checking in if he’s just late,” Swift replies as she rolls her eyes.

Exuberance looks over at her and quickly shakes his head. “That’s not Lodestars style. Even if he does decide to deviate from plans, because things change or something comes up, he’d always send some kind of update along. And even that is very rare; he hates to break his schedule once he’s set it with someone. It’s his own personal pet peeve, and he promised he’d be here. So I’m inclined to think something’s wrong as well.”

Dandy nods and looks over at Swift, “And so is Happy Trails… That’s why she’s sending out a search party. She wouldn’t waste the caps on some fool errand. She’s concerned, and with good reason. Hell, you two saw her. How fidgety she’s been getting the last couple days, right?”

Handy nods as he looks at Swift. “She’s got a point. It got to the point that I was starting to wonder if she was another drug fiend or something.”

Exuberance nods as he slowly pulls away from Honeysuckle and stands up fully. “Well, thank you for the information. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you to the barn so you can get some sleep. I’m sure you’re going to want to get an early start.”

Handy and Swift nod as they are turning to head towards the door to follow Exuberance out. Before going out the door Exuberance grabs the lantern that Sweets had been carrying, and Parsnip had used, carrying it aloft with one forehoof as he leads the way out into the night.

“Ya feelin’ any better now?” Honeysuckle asks as she looks at Dandy.

Dandy flushes and nods sheepishly as she removes her hooves from the basin and stands up. After getting back onto her hooves, and off the cushioned stool, Dandy’s horn glows as she scoops the basin up with her magical field. “Yes. Much. Thank you. Where can I dump this for you?”

Honeysuckle grins at her and nods in approval a few times before she points towards the side of the house. “Jus’ go on ahead and dump it outside, on the ground along one of the sides of the house. Jus’ not out front, already have ‘nuff trouble with the mud tryin’ to make it inside. Ah swear sometimes it feels like it’s grown its own mind and jus’ crawls in on it’s own with how much I’m having to clear out so often.”

Dandy chuckles and follows the others through the doorway, hovering the basin in front of herself as she does.

Honeysuckle waves from the doorway. “Jus’ put it on the stoop when yer done, if’n ya would, and mah husband will bring it in.” She waves more energetically as she says, “Night ya’ll sleep well!”

The others wave back at her as she’s closing the door.

Handy looks around as he says, “You know, you don’t find this sort of civility in most areas of the wasteland.”

Exuberance smiles as he opens up one of the barn’s doors for them to enter. “Why, thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment. And, yes, it’s true. But the Roots family has stuck to their guns this whole time. I suppose it’s part of the charm that I was attracted to when I first met Honeysuckle.” He leads the way in and starts walking towards a large twisted mass in the far middle of the barn as the others follow him, and his light. By the time he is setting the lantern on the unknown rusted wreck, Dandy has completed her task and joined them in the barn, providing herself a light with the small faintly glowing orb in front of herself as she slowly takes in the barn from her position.

The barn, though two stories and as big as some houses, doesn’t have as much internal structure as other barns that Dandy had seen. The first floor is almost entirely open, except for a few thick vertical wood beams at regular intervals, along the sides of the path from one set of double doors to the other, that are currently being used to hold the second floor loft. Although it’s noticeable, even to Dandy and in this light, that the barn originally had segmented bays or enclosed areas. The tell tale signs of old hardware being removed is clear to see. But, in doing so, it has opened up the floor plan considerably and it seems most of the barn has been converted over to a workshop of some kind. Next to the rusted thing near Exuberance is a pile of boxes, both metal and wood, and a workbench of sorts made out of what appear to be crates, or pieces of pallet. Across the bench’s surface is a collection of tools, but none of them look exceptionally valuable as they are all pretty old and beat up. But, to their credit, and the credit of Exuberance and the rest of the Roots family, they seem to have been taken care of to the best of the family’s ability. As they aren’t simply rusted scrap, and appear still useable.

Exuberance taps on the rusted object that he’s set the lamp on as he says, “This is one of the things that the kids and I dragged back here.” He points over to the side. “Anything useable, component wise, we’ve been stripping out and setting aside. But, honestly, most of it isn’t much more than scrap metal.” He points to his muzzle as he smirks. “Which is why I appeared to have been dining on a meal with such a high iron content when you arrived.” He taps on the object a few more times as he says, “Sometimes we get lucky and find a box or two that still has useable contents inside… Even better if it happens to be some kind of food shipment… since that’s what we’d mainly be trading for anyway. Aside from the odd repair material or tool replacement if we can’t fix it ourselves that is.” He shrugs. “Skips the middle steps and all of the markups that way.”

Handy looks the twisted hunk of rust over as he asks, “Was this some kind of farm equipment at one point or something else?”

Exuberance chuckles as he shakes his head. “No. It’s just part of a sky wagon. I know, it’s hard to tell with how rusted it is and crashing to the ground from the moon probably didn’t help it any.” He shrugs. “We figured it was safer to drag it here to work on it instead of staying out in the dead woods and try to take it apart out in the open.” He taps on the rusted frame a couple times as he turns to leave. “I’ll take my leave now.” He points up with a hoof as he looks at Handy. “There’s still straw up in the loft. Don’t worry about any pests like mites. If there were any, the kids would have let us know by now by complaining about getting all itchy.” He walks over to the door and starts closing it behind him, but pauses just long enough to stick his head back in and adding somberly, “Thank you for helping to find Lodestar… We get up rather early around here, but if you decide to leave early, we won’t take it personally if you do so without letting us know. All I ask is you do what you can to help Lodestar.”

Dandy grins at him as she says, “Hey, no problem. It’s what I’m getting paid for anyway.”

“It’s the only reason I’m out this way,” Swift adds.

“I need something from him, so, yeah, that’s the plan,” Handy comments.

Exuberance smiles at them, gives a respectful dip of his head, and then closes the door and heads back inside the house.

“So, early start tomorrow?” Handy asks as he looks over at Swift.

Swift looks at her PipBuck, pulling up the map and judging the relative distance before nodding. “I’ll set an alarm. We’ll make sure to be away from here before the sun comes up, so no one sees the direction we’re coming from and trails us back to the farm. These Roots seem like good ponies, and I don’t want any of the trouble we’re going to be diving into to slink back this way if we can avoid it.”

Dandy walks over behind the fragment of the rusted sky wagon, with her magical orb of light floating not far in front of herself. She continues looking around then calls out as she finds a set of stairs in the back corner. “Found the way up.”

Swift grabs the lantern Exuberance left for them in a forehoof, then starts hovering. She carefully flies over the rusted piece and under the floor joists for the 2nd floor as she joins Dandy, with Handy following close behind after walking around the rusty obstruction in the middle of the barn. Swift zips past Dandy and starts flying around in the loft area as she looks it over while the others climb up the old wooden stairs.

Despite what one would think, the barn has held up very well over the centuries. In fact, there are only a couple spots that show signs of a leak of any sort and any time. But even those have been properly patched and sealed up. A fact that helps contribute to the dry nature of the inside of the barn. Although, however full the loft area might have been in the past, it’s practically barren now. It’s similar to the inside of the farmhouse in that regard. There are only a few crates stacked up and a couple scattered boxes to be seen. Some of which have been stacked in a purposeful line and give the impression of a wall next to a pile of straw like material. In a couple areas of the loft’s floor there’s still scattered straw here and there. Loose bits that have been pulled or dragged away from the two mounds of straw that are currently up here. But, beyond that, the majority of the loft area is wide open and empty.

As Dandy is looking around, Swift hovers over and asks with a scandalous tone, “So… feeling a bit nauseous, huh?”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she looks up at Swift and her jaw drops. “T-that… I was just… I only said that cuz I didn’t want to eat their food!”

“Mmhmm.” Swift smirks as she flies around Dandy in a circle. “Sure you did… I saw the way you practically turned green when you looked at those stuffed apples, and they looked delicious to me…”

“It’s not my fault! I just said it so they wouldn’t feel bad, you see how bad they have it out here. They need all the food they can get, so I lied,” Dandy blurts out. Then she starts looking sheepish as she says, “But then I really did start feeling nauseous…”

Swift shrugs mid air as she says, “Welcome to getting prego kiddo.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she waves a hoof at her. “N- No! That can’t be! I can’t be pregnant! It’s… It’s too soon to tell anyway, right? Right?!”

Handy looks around as he smirks, “Um… from what I understand… there’s some that have known the same day… so… there’s no such thing as ‘too soon’.”

Dandy’s jaw drops even further as her hoof pointed at Swift slowly sags, “B-but… But… It just can’t be… I mean… He said he’s sterile! He- he said he can’t get me pregnant! That’s not possible!” She shakes her head quickly, “I don’t see how it’d even be possible that Gearing got me pregnant!”

“You and Gearing?!” Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes as he says, “Oh boy…”

The startled reply simply reinforces to Swift how little Handy was actually paying to the conversations inside of the farmhouse.

Swift hovers over in front of Dandy, forehooves folded over her chest, as she grins and tilts her head. “Oh reee-aaaallly? Some buck tells you he can’t get you pregnant, and you actually believed him?!” She starts laughing as she’s hovering around Dandy in a circle. “You buy everything a buck sells you when getting you in the sack is on the table?” She stops and grins at her as she says, “You can’t possibly be that naive!” She starts laughing again as she says in sarcastic tones, “‘Oh, don’t worry, I can’t get you pregnant because I’m sterile’ is like the oldest trick in the book! That’s right up there with ‘Can’t get pregnant because it’s our first time’!”

Dandy stands there shaking as her eyes steadily grow bigger and her pupils shrink to pinpricks as she thinks the entire scenario over.

As Swift is relishing in Dandy’s brain practically melting out of her ears, she checks a message sent to her by Handy.

[What in the actual FUCK?! Her and GEARING? How’d he get her pregnant? That can’t be possible! You can’t get knocked up by something like that, can you?]

Swift lets out a snort and quickly replies.

[No. No way he did. Not possible. But don’t ruin my fun… I’m gonna teach her a lesson she won’t forget about who she decides to go around shacking up with… Lets see how long I can keep her going!]

Handy lets out a groan and looks at Swift as he narrows his eyes and sends his reply back.

[You realize Sable is going to kill her when she finds out.]

[You know, I’m actually curious about that. Gearing seemed entirely serious when he’d said he wasn’t unfaithful to her. And didn’t seem concerned at all about Sable knowing about it when I talked to him. I know she’s the jealous type, but maybe they have some kind of agreement we don’t know about?]

[So… what do we do about it?]

[It’s their relationship, let them sort it out… I’ll tease her to the end of Equus about it, but not around Sable. I don’t want to be the first one to bring it up, not my place. Besides, she’s a businessmare, they might never meet if she’s too busy chasing after the next contract.]

[You mean when she’s not chasing after the next tail that gets in front of her?]

[Hey, that’s pretty good, I’ll have to use that!]

Swift hovers around Dandy a few more times before she says with a giggle, “Equus to Daaaaandyyy, you okay down there?” She grins as she asks, “Or you too busy plotting your next romp? I mean, you can’t get pregnant again if you’re already pregnant, so it should be fine to give in to your tail chasing ways.”

Dandy’s light orb explodes in a shower of sparks as her magic finally gives out at the sudden jolt.

They stare at her in silence, and partial darkness, as Swift hovers around in a circle holding the solitary form of light.

“Uh… Dandy… you okay?” Swift asks with a sheepish smile.

“You know what, fuck it…” Dandy finally replies. “Fine... If I am, I am, and out of everypony else, that time was the one time that was good enough that I’ll say it was actually worth it… I just …” She turns and starts walking slowly towards the second largest pile of straw in the dark. “I gotta make sure and…” She lets out a groan as she hangs her head, “Figure out what to do…” She walks over to the pile of straw, faintly illuminating it by enveloping bits of it with the overglow of her levitation magic and using that as a beacon as she comes in for a ragdoll of a landing. She throws herself onto the mound, limbs outstretched in a Nightmare Moon may care fashion, and flops onto it with a soft wumph. She grabs some of the straw with her forefooves blindly and pulls it to her head, partially burying her face in it as she lets out a series of groans and grunts. After a few moments she finally goes limp in the musky smelling pile of straw and lets out a sigh. A split second later she growls into the straw without pulling her face up to make her voice clearer, “But if I am, I’m going to shoot the shit out of Gearing next time I see him!” She flails around in the straw a bit, throwing pieces in various directions as she has a near foal-like tantrum and screeches, “Right in that goddess damned golden bubble butt of his!” She rolls over onto her back and starts infantilely flailing all of her legs around as she yells, “Oh, Sweet Celestia, I’m not ready to be a mother yet. I’ll be a horrible mom! I just know it!”

She rolls over onto her side and curls up into a practical ball as she groans, “I can’t believe he knocked me up… that asshole…”

Handy and Swift share a smirking look before they walk over and climb onto the largest pile of straw available. After Swift turns off the light, the two cuddle with each other as they cozy into the surprisingly comfortable straw pile. After laying there for a few moments, Swift nudges Handy a couple times to get his attention. When he lifts his head to look at her she tilts her own head and calls out, “Night mommy!”

“That’s just mean,” Handy says quietly after a quick snort of amusement.

As soon as Swift has uttered the phrase, Dandy starts groaning, grumbling, and screeching. And Swift and Handy can hear her throwing another tantrum in the straw pile. “I hate you! I hate you all! Screw you guys!” Dandy’s voice gets muffled as she tunnels into the pile of straw until she’s completely enveloped by it. “You suck!” Her muffled voice comes from the pile of straw.

Swift and Handy can’t help but snicker and, after they’ve quieted down enough, Dandy’s grumbling voice greets them. “Hate you so much right now…”

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .. .

Secondary components reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Error . . .

‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .. .

Error . . .

Fragmentation errors in ‘credential matrix’ detected . . .

62 Justice or Just Us

While Swift and Handy spin around in a complete 180 to face their uninvited guest, Dandy simply shifts to present her side with a graceful simultaneous set of steps. The act of turning sideways so abruptly makes her white coat flutter and trail behind her, bringing it up from the sheer force of it. However, it also lets her bring out several of her pistol boxes from that side, letting her focus on them and their movements instead of having to worry about keeping her coat out of the way.

In short order Dandy has used her well practiced maneuver to bring five of her pistols to bear, all pointed at the unknown pony’s helmeted head. With both Swift and Handy taking defensive stances as they try to assess what’s going on and who this pony is.

The pony standing not far from them unnerves them for a variety of reasons. A good portion of it has to do with the nonchalant attitude of the buck, or mare, it’s impossible to tell through all of that equipment. Another is the armor itself. As a whole, it’s nothing like anything any of them have seen before.

On top of their head seems to be a standard combat helmet that’s maybe a bit too large for them, and covers the entire side and back of their head like it is trying to sink down, but can’t quite make it. It’s perfectly smooth and even entirely envelopes the ears of the one wearing it. And it still retains its original dirty dark green color scheme from during the war. The rest of the helmet though, as the whole contraption fully envelopes their head in complete protection, is an entirely different color. The face and muzzle guard of it sticks out with an external respirator port that’s currently being occupied by some form of filtration unit. All of it has the same dark metallic gray that would normally be associated with a suit of Steel Ranger power armor. Indeed the mix up looks like someone took a power helmet and welded the face portion to the combat helmet. But, despite that being the only visible piece of power armor on them, the helmet is very much active.

Judging by the faintly glowing red eyes.

The eye sockets of the mask have irregularly shaped lenses with sharp abrupt edges instead of smooth curve-sided pieces that they’ve seen before. And it would be easy to spot this individual, even in the darkest of conditions, just by those glowing eyes. But judging by how the faint red glow is unnerving them, and demanding their attention, they can only imagine what the effect would be like if those eyes were all that could be seen. Glowing. Disembodied and floating in the darkness.

The rest of their armor is just as curious, as most of their body is covered by some form of modified combat armor. The original purpose of which is hinted at by the repaired gouges that peek out from under the large dark brown trench coat they are wearing. From what the group can see of the main set of armor, as the individual seems to be wearing several sets simultaneously, the olive green Kevlar-like fabric seems to make up the under layer of the barding, with earthy toned thick rigid plates over all of that. The set of barding covers every inch of the pony, even without the massive trench coat. Except for their hooves, which have some rough looking combat boots poking out from under the barding and trench coat.

Not even their tail has escaped armored confinement. But, unlike the rest of them, their tail has been bound up and hangs out the back in some sort of protective sack. And, at the moment, and inside of the dark blue cloth, it looks more like a thick baton and less like a normal pony’s tail.

The trench coat is another oddity in and of itself. There have been several modifications where pieces of combat armor have been added to supplement the defensive capabilities of the jacket. With large pieces being attached over each shoulder area, and around the neck and shoulders like some type of armored yolk, making for a massive support structure that’s capable of sustaining a large amount of fire, before the underlying base barding even needs to get involved. Along the outside of the trench coat, on each leg, and across the hips, are more combat armor pieces that have been attached through unknown means to make it seem even bulkier. If that wasn’t bad enough, there are points along the entire trench coat where it’s clear that other pieces have been attached to its entire surface.

On the interior lining of it.

In short the pony in the chimera armor looks like they’ve come prepared to take a beating, but has every expectation, and rightly so, of making it back out. However, they do seem to be lacking any serious weapons as there are none exposed. They aren’t wielding any. And they are completely lacking a battle saddle.

This fact, along with the fact that their strange red glowing eyes aren’t even looking at them, but instead seem to be focused up and behind them at the building across the street, gives Swift and company cause for pause and contemplation.

The same modulated breathy voice comes out of the small speaker on the side of the muzzle of the unknown pony as they say, “Appear to be a lot of hostiles…”

Handy hefts his pneumatic sledge a few times as he trails his eyes over the newcomer’s body. He pauses and stares at the faded lettering on their chest as they shift and reveal HPD RIOT across the composite armor plate across their right breast. He brings his eyes up towards the red glow and, even though they are still focused up and towards the distance behind him, he asks, “Can we help you? It’s not polite to sneak up on ponies like that.”

There’s a snort that comes through the air filter like a pressure relief valve before the modulated voice says with a scoff, “So you do know how to check your targets first…? I really expected you to try and weld my helmet to my head with that hammer of yours.”

Dandy taps the side of their helmet with one of her pistol boxes as she scowls and says, “Hey… he’s trying to be polite, but the question stands… who the hell are you and what do you want?”

They turn their head and unquestioningly look directly at her, with undivided attention, before their voice comes out in a gasp, “Lodestar… of course.”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he looks them over again. “You’re Lodestar?!”

Swift rolls her eyes as she glances at Handy momentarily then back at the newcomer. “No, Handy, I’m sure he means he’s here for Lodestar.”

Dandy frowns as she says, “Hey, that’s fucked up, I already picked up the contract… Why’d she send someone new?”

“And what about a name, or should we just make up something for you?” Handy asks as he looks them over again and tries to figure out how they are even walking in that apparently non powered armor.

“Call me whatever you want, I really don’t care,” they say with a deep rolling grumble.

“Okay, ‘Shithead’ it is then,” Swift says with a grin. But it slowly fades off her muzzle as it seems to get zero reaction out of them.

“What’s the situation? Have any of you been inside yet?” they ask as they turn and stare at the building across the street.

“Uh… no… not yet… We were just trying to figure out how to go about doing it,” Handy adds as he turns sideways to look at the building out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, we’re dealing with raiders, so that’s probably for the best… None of you are equipped to handle that… We should limit exposure to prevent infection and letting it spread,” they respond with irritation coming through, even with the heavy voice modulation.

“I’m not exactly helpless here,” Dandy says with a frown as she taps on his helmet a few more times with the same pistol box that he genuinely doesn’t seem worried about. Which just irritates her even more.

The oversized helmet turns to look at her again before they reply, “I’m aware of that, Dandy, but no amount of money is worth getting infected and dying as a result.”

Her eyes grow a bit wider open as she asks quietly, “Wait… how’d you know my…”

Handy twirls his sledge hammer as he says, “We can take care of ourselves. We’re not going to just rush into this.”

“Good, because that’d be stupid,” the modulated voice quips back. “Besides… you’re probably more vulnerable to it than anyone else here… so you really shouldn’t be going in there.” Turning their glowing red eyes back on the building they add, “It’d probably be best if I just go in there myself, get Lodestar and any other survivors, and bring them out to you so you can escort them back.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks with a huff, “Who the hell died and put you in charge?”

Their glowing red eyes turn to look at Handy, causing Handy to flinch momentarily, before they ask with a wheezing sounding suck of the respirator, “Always want a committee, don’t you, Handy? None of you are heavily armored, two of you are wearing no armor at all, without so much as even wearing a biohazard suit. And it only takes one. Single. Drop. To get infected.” They lean toward Handy as they say with a growl, “You of all people should know that, Handy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not that stupid, Handy. Don’t even act like it. That’s one of the things that pisses me off about you. You know better, but act like you don’t, and do dumb shit anyway when you’re better then that,” the voice comes out in a rapid gush before taking in a deep sucking breath. “That serum stopped the infection. And brought you back. There’s no telling what would happen if you get infected again.” He reaches over with a hoof and points it at the top of Handy’s head. “There’s already been damage, that can’t be reversed… if you get infected again, you’re screwed. Even if we had more of the serum, which we don’t, there’s no telling if it’d even work on you again. Hell, the virus might just pick right back up where it left off: with you being a slathering psychotic cannibal. Is that what you want?!” They pull back and practically snarl through the modulation, “Use what’s left of your damn brain for a change, while you still have it!”

Swift’s eyes had gone wide at the start of the beratement, but her mouth drops in the middle of the modulated rant as something clicks for her. “Gearing?!” After the red eyes focus on her she asks, “That is you, isn’t it?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Why the hell didn’t you just say so instead of the long line of bullshit?” Handy asks with his eyes narrowed at Gearing.

“We already agreed I’d meet up with you all once I got my armor situation sorted out. Who else could find you so easily in this concrete death trap? Besides, you both have PipBucks and could obviously tell I was a friendly. It shoulda been common sense and basic deduction.”

“Well… that’s…” Handy starts as he lowers his eyes and starts looking around.

KLANG.

Gearing’s head shifts to the side as a glowing piece of rebar floats next to his head.

He looks over at Dandy and asks with a groan, “What the hell was that for?!”

Swift puts a hoof over her eyes as she partially giggles, “Oh boy… Now might not be the time for this…”

Dandy waves the rebar in his face as she says, “To get your hard headed ass’s attention!” She pokes the end of his mask’s snoot with the tip of the rebar as she says, “That is entirely unfair! To everyone! And especially Handy!” Handy looks over at her and raises an eyebrow at the unexpected support.

Dandy pops Gearing on the side of the head a couple more times, lighter, but still enough to cause a light chiming noise from his helmet. “No one could have just automatically assumed it was you. You’ve never worn that armor. You don’t sound like yourself. And given where we are it could literally be anyone out here… so expecting any of us, Handy included, to just know it’s you, is complete and utter crap!”

Handy stares at her for a moment, and then nods a single solid bob of his head in agreement.

Gearing continues to stare at her in silence for a few moments before he finally says flatly, “You’re right.”

Handy’s eyebrows nearly jump off his head in surprise.

Gearing looks over at Handy and says, flatly, “I’m sorry.”

Handy’s eyes jump open to their max size as he blurts out, “What?”

“I’m sorry, Handy… Dandy is right… given the entire situation, it was unreasonable of me to expect you to know who I am just because I happened to show up around where we were going to meet. So, I’m sorry.”

They stare at him, with Handy entirely dumbfounded and his jaw on the floor.

Gearing looks them in the eye one at a time before he looks back to Handy and says, “I’m a grown enough buck to admit when I make a mistake. And I have the integrity to do so… So I’m sorry for the confusion, Handy.”

Handy slowly sits down as he nods his head. “Uh… yeah… sure… no problem… apology accepted, thanks.”

Gearing looks them over again before stepping closer and looking through the window out at the building across the street. “So, if you’re not keen about me going in on my own, even though I’m the only one among us that’s immune, what plans were you thinking?”

“Uh… plan?” Handy asks in a haze as he tries to process what just happened.

Gearing looks over at him and nods towards the building across the street. “How we’re going to deal with this? How we’re going to see if Lodestar’s in there, and how we’re going to get him out if he is…” he stares at him for a few moments before he asks, “You okay, Handy?”

Dandy grins as she’s putting her pistols away. “Yeah, we really need to sort that out; we just got here so we haven’t really talked about it much yet.” She points over to the building and asks, “What do you know about the building? Anything from your pre war days?” As soon as Gearing’s head is focused back across the street, Dandy’s horn comes to life with her overglow and the words ‘TOLD YA SO’ pop up in glowing sparkles between her and Handy as she grins.

Gearing bobs his head around before he says, “Well, this looks like a local Police Department’s Headquarters. Not simply a precinct branch. Bigger. The building’s at least as deep as it is wide. The upper levels would be mostly administrative officers and where the detectives work on various cases. The first floor is mostly for public interaction and for booking, at least on the front side.” He points under the building as he says, “If this is like most others, there will be a set of holding cells in the basement under the front half, for easier access to anywhere the prisoners would need to be brought, and the back half is mainly dedicated to their motor pool and service vehicle parking.” He looks over at Dandy as he says, “Mainly for rapid deployment out the back if they need it, and to transport prisoners. The cells here aren’t really meant for long term incarceration. Only short term stuff, or to be held before getting transferred out to one of the prisons or whatever. Like Hightower on the other side of Hoofington.”

Dandy looks at him and tilts her head as she asks, “Why would there be a local headquarters? I thought headquarters were the ‘central’ of everything?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Population size and density kind of demanded it. Also it was a method for redundancy, in case an attack took out one, the others would be able to keep the peace and pick up the slack. Last I checked, Hoofington had three: East, West, where we apparently are now, and Central, which is inside of The Core.” He nods towards the building across the street. “They’ve also got a court room in there for petty crimes… drunk and disorderly… petty theft… basically misdemeanors and things that don’t really need a full blown trial and only carry either short jail sentences or a fine. Anything else gets forwarded on to the rest of the court system.” After a short pause he adds quietly, “Well… did.”

Swift looks at the building and asks, “Well, where would you think would be the most logical place to hold Lodestar? The jail cells?”

Gearing lets out a disgruntled huff that seems to get magnified by the gush of air through the respirator and the modulator. “If we were trying to base this on logic, yes. That would make the most sense…” He looks over at her and adds, “But we’re dealing with half brain dead raiders. There’s no telling what ‘makes sense’ to them, so he really could be anywhere.”

Swift nods her head as she looks over at him. “That’s fair.” She stares at him for a few moments before asking, “Hey, Gearing… what’s with the creepy voice modulator and gas mask sounds, I thought you don’t need to breathe?”

Gearing looks over at her and says with a tone of annoyance that even the voice modulator can’t cover up, “I might not require oxygen to survive, but I still need air to talk, you know. I have a voice box, not a speaker system… and that requires air to function…”

Dandy waves both forelegs in the air as she says in a hissing not-quite yell, “We can chat about Gearing’s funky new armor later… for now we need to figure out how we’re going to take out Raider H.Q.”

Gearing nods as he turns and faces the others. “I’m all ears. What did you have in mind?” He reaches up with his right forehoof and taps the side of his helmet near the relative location of where his temple should be. Instantly the faint red glow of his helmet disappears and he stares at them through the cold dark glassy material that becomes visible once the power is cut.

The arguments start almost instantly among the group as they try to sort out the best way to go about doing it. Gearing has a pretty solid stance of not wanting anyone else to go into the building. And doesn’t want to budge from it. But the others don’t want to sit idly by while he basically does everything. There’s many concerns brought up that he can’t simply be everywhere at once, and searching the whole thing is going to take time. Splitting up completely into individuals and searching the entire building, to save time, was shot down the instant it was brought up, with the general consensus being that it’s just asking for trouble with the number of hostile markers in the building.

The compromises continue to sway back and forth, and it’s generally agreed to go in groups of two, but Gearing has another sticking point on it.

He brings up that, in general, they have two close quarters melee specialists, and two that are better at a distance. That the typical set up of Handy and Swift being together puts them at a disadvantage of being vulnerable to weapons fire, especially since Swift refuses to use guns at all and Handy only has his pistol. Handy’s also the only one besides Gearing that’s wearing any type of armor, even if it is rather beat up and abused at the moment. So he tries to push that, at the minimum, Handy should additionally go with them, which would leave him by himself, and he’s okay with that.

But they aren’t.

Eventually Swift is so annoyed by the circular arguments that she finally belts out in exasperation, “Fine! Then how about me and Dandy team up, and you two thick headed bucks go do your thing together. That way there’s guns for both teams, and Gearing’s not simply out by himself walking into one disaster after another.”

Dandy looks over at her and bobs her head side to side as she says, “That makes sense, but Gearing seems to like playing decoy and luring idiots out into killzones we set up.”

“I have no intention of simply being a distraction during this operation,” Gearing’s modulated voice comments as he looks over at Dandy.

She frowns as she waves a hoof at him. “Well what about your weapons? You don’t look like you’re really carrying anything. Do you even have any firearms with you?”

Handy waves it away with a hoof as he says, “I’ve got it covered if nothing else. I have plenty of ammo as well.”

“Handy, are you talking about the rounds you got from those Wild Ones freaks?” Gearing asks as he tilts his head to look over at him.

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That ammo’s shit… you’re going to need a lot of it to do anything to anypony… What’s worse is it’s going to gunk up your weapon more and require maintenance on it more often.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even take any of it I thought?”

Gearing stares at him and says flatly, “I’d been raked with it. Repeatedly. By their SMGs. The impacts were lower than they should have been if they’d been standard rounds. So I checked.” He tilts his head. “Didn’t you notice that they’re listed as ‘surplus rounds’ in your inventory sorter? That means they’ve been cheaply reloaded, have less powder, and or use inferior powder. Resulting in more residue when it’s fired. They’ll be fine against unarmored targets, but against anything with some real armor, you better not even try it or you’ll annoy them with the noise.”

Swift bobs her head around as she says, “Well, probably good enough for raiders then at least.”

“Probably,” Gearing concedes, “But I ran into two gangers that wore metal armor, even more than Handy is currently wearing, when we went to take down Cookie. So just keep it in mind.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Well, what about you? Do you got anything? As Dandy’s pointed out, you’re carrying far less than you normally would.”

Gearing nods as he says, “I needed to make good enough time, and couldn’t risk getting bogged down… and I have something with far more punch than that 12.7mm you tote around…” he tilts his head and slides the cheek of his helmet under the trench coat and slaps his head against something under the shoulder guard of his right side that makes a soft, but audible, click. He uses his forehoof to hold the edge of the trench coat out of the way as he turns back to face them.

With a massive revolver attached to the side of his muzzle like he’s holding it in a mouth grip.

Dandy’s eyes jump to their widest possible as she grins widely and asks excitedly, “What the hell is that?!”

The monster of a pistol revolver has a long barrel that seems more fit to be put on a smaller rifle than on a pistol variety of firearm. The cylinder is likewise much larger than normal but, according to the pattern, and the size of the individual chambers, there are only five rounds available. Which, given how big the gun is already, and the individual rounds are so large that the cylinder didn’t have enough space for any more to be added, it really exemplifies the weapon’s potential destructive capabilities.

Handy raises a hoof and limply waves it at the gun as he asks softly, “How- how do you even fire it? With that helmet on I mean?”

“Tension cable. That’s why I have to holster it under my shoulder guard.”

Dandy hops over and entirely invades Gearing’s personal space as she gets her eyes mere inches from the firearm and asks, “How big are those fucking cartridges?! They look like rifle rounds!”

“That’s because they are rifle rounds… forty-five caliber rifle rounds with a seventy grain custom powder charge.”

Handy’s mouth hangs open for a moment before he asks, “The hell you plan on shooting with something like that?!”

Gearing looks over at him, making Dandy have to duck to avoid accidentally getting pistol whipped by the protruding long barrel. “Whatever the fuck is stupid enough to get in my way… I can’t use my rifles in this getup and need something with enough stopping power to compensate for it.”

Dandy reaches up with a hoof and points at it as she grins. “H- hey… Gearing… not to get fresh or anything… but… can I play with your gun later? Just want to see what it’d be like to shoot some kind of monster like that.”

Swift snickers as she says with her eyes partially closed, “Isn’t playing with his gun how you ended up the way you are?”

Dandy looks over at her and flushes as she grumbles, “Oh shut up about that already!” She hangs her head a bit as she obviously starts thinking things through.

“Sure, I’ll let you squeeze off a round. Might give you an idea about switching out from your current pistol boxes. Although it might be too much for your magic to keep control of with the recoil. But only after we get all of this sorted,” Gearing replies nonchalantly while notably apparently ignoring the obvious innuendo potential.

Dandy reaches up and taps him on the shoulder guard as she says softly, “Uhm… Gearing… there’s… there’s something we need to… Something I need to tell... you…” She looks up at him and flushes more as she squeaks out, “We needa talk…”

Swift grins widely as she sits down, leans into Handy, and says quietly, “Oh this is gonna be good…”

Gearing stows his monster pistol as he says, “Is it about getting Lodestar?”

“Well… no… nothing about this trip at all really…”

“Then we can talk about it later, after we get this squared away.” He turns his attention toward her as he says, “Business before pleasure and all of that…”

She closes her eyes and groans as she hangs her head and mumbles, “That’s part of the problem…”

“What?”

She waves a hoof quickly. “Nothing. Never mind. Yeah, we’ll talk later.”

Swift frowns as she kicks the ground with a forehoof and knocks up some dirt from the dust covered rubble they’re standing on. “Well, shit… no entertainment for now I suppose.”

Gearing looks over at her and cocks his head to the side for a moment, earning a sheepish grin from Swift in return. But, because she says nothing, Gearing asks, “Could you do a quick fly over around the building? See what the roof’s like, and see if you notice any turrets up there, or just any other surprises in general? It’ll give us an idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Swift nods as she stands up. “Sure. I can be back in a flash. But, honestly, surprised you didn’t just say you were going to do it and take off.”

Gearing waves a hoof towards her and says flatly, “You’re unquestionably the faster flyer. And, in my current armor, it’s not a great idea to try and fly. There’d be nothing subtle about it.” Swift gives Gearing a beaming grin of pride at his otherwise obvious admission before she zips off and out the large hole in the back corner of the room where the corner of the building had fallen down.

Handy had opened his mouth to say something to her, but Swift already zipped off before he got the chance and left him confused and irritated. And before he can say anything to voice said irritation, Gearing asks, “Do you need tools to fix your armor, or why are the metal plates still jacked up, Handy?” Which just adds to Handy’s confused state.

More so because the question, through a voice modulated respirator or not, comes across as genuine concern for his well being.

He raises an eyebrow for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, I fixed what I could with what I had. But I need a loaded workbench to be able to really get it where it needs to be. And I’m not sure how much they would have wanted to charge me to fix it, but I do know that we need every cap we can get our hooves on for the supplies we need.”

Gearing reaches over with a hoof and trails the edge of his combat boot along a few of the gouged lines, and connects the dots with a few of the holes in it, all without actually touching Handy, as he says, “Well, it should hold up well enough as long as we don’t get into anything too serious. But, with all the holes already in it, they’re more likely to get lucky and do some real damage to you…” He tilts his head side to side a few times before he adds, “When we get back to Megamart, we’ll need to either get your gear fixed up, or get you something new. That’s not going to be good enough to last much longer the way it is.”

Handy lets out a sigh before he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “And just what do you have planned that’s going to need me to have a fresh set of armor? I’d really wish you’d ask me before you go volunteering me for something…”

“You want to get home, don’t you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

Gearing rolls his entire head on his shoulders before he says flatly, “Handy… do you realize how far away we are? And, without the skywagon, we’re going to have to hoof it the whole way. Considering the number of things we’d run into with having the skywagon most of the way here, do you really think the trip back is going to be any easier? Because, honestly, I think the trip back is going to be far worse. Especially with my luck.”

Handy stares at him for a moment before saying quietly, “That’s… an excellent point.”

Gearing nods. “And, depending on how things go with Lodestar, we might be carrying back a lot more on the way back as well… making us even bigger targets…”

Handy frowns as he looks out the window towards the police station HQ across the street. “Yeah, that’s been bothering me too. I don’t really see how we can get around it though.”

“I have a few ideas… but it’d require you actually trusting me a bit,” Gearing says with a sigh.

Handy’s head whips over to look at him and he narrows his eyes as he says, “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

“What do you like the sound of?” Dandy asks with a grin.

Gearing rolls his head on his neck again before shaking his head. “I can haul a lot on my own. Even in flight. So, by myself, I can fly back with quite a bit. It would take a while, maybe longer over all, but I could make enough back and forth trips to get everything down there, or at minimum enough that we won’t be so overburdened on the trip back.”

Handy frowns as he says, “And I suppose besides trust, it would require me sitting back here babysitting the supplies while you fly back and forth? Being away from my family even longer?”

Gearing shrugs. “Well, you and Swift could head back as soon as we make the trades with whatever you can comfortably carry. And I just keep making the round trips. We’ll just come to some sort of arrangement that they’ll hold it for me while I make the deliveries. Though, to be honest, and I know you two can generally take care of yourself, I’d feel better if I went with you on that return trip. Don’t want you guys getting ambushed in your sleep again by moron bounty hunters or whoever else might be around.”

Dandy stays back behind and off to the side of Gearing as he’s talking with Handy, and decides this is a great moment to pseudo chime in. In her own way. Again she summons up a few faintly glowing letters in the air and grins at Handy as she keeps nodding towards Gearing while Gearing can’t see her or her illusions.

See, just talk with him.

Handy glances at it for only a moment before bobbing his head around and looking at the ground as Dandy’s message winks out of existence before Gearing can notice it. After a moment’s consideration he looks up at Gearing and asks, “Well, how about we cross that bridge when we get to it? And all three of us can figure out how we want to go about it when we actually know what we’re going to have to haul and we’re not looking at a building full of crazies. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a great idea. One thing at a time,” Gearing says with an over exaggerated nod of his head.

“What is?” Swift asks as she’s flying back in through the hole in the wall.

Dandy looks over at her and grins as she nods towards Gearing and Handy. “Oh they’re just chatting and making plans for your trip back home…” She grins even wider as she says, “And Gearing was just complimenting Handy on his idea of discussing the matter in full, later, when all three of you can sit down and chat freely.”

Gearing turns his head to look at Dandy before his modulatedly grumbly voice comments, “That’s a bit of an unnecessary recap, isn’t it?”

Swift lands near Handy as she looks at Dandy and asks, “Oh? So you’re saying they were playing nice for a change?” She looks back and forth between Gearing and Handy before she adds with a grin, “Maybe I should have you foalsit more often!” When Handy turns his head to shoot her a dirty look, she quickly leans in and kisses him right on the end of his nose, startling the grumpy look right off his face in the process.

Gearing’s modulated voice lets out a stuttered snort-like sound that, after a moment of reverberating, comes across as a bit of a snicker as he shakes his head. He looks over at Swift and asks, while she’s still staring at the startled Handy, “See anything?”

Swift looks over at him and blinks for a moment, as she’d temporarily forgotten all about all of that in her fun of teasing Handy. “Oh!” Her eyes zip back and forth a moment as she mentally double checks before she says, “Not really, no. Nothing more than we can already see or guess from here. Well, except for the large skylight set into the front half of the building’s roof… Could drop in from there maybe if we’re trying to go in loud.”

“Not without being very loud, with explosives or something,” Gearing chimes in. “That glass is going to be some form of reinforced bullet or blast resistant glass. And that’s assuming it doesn’t have some kind of spell matrix on it.”

“At least there’s also no signs of any turrets outside. At all, actually. And the roof’s entirely abandoned, which is probably a good thing considering that rampart that circles the entire roof would provide anyone up there good cover as they shoot down at anyone in the streets,” Swift adds. She turns and starts waving towards the far side of the building with a wing as she says, “Judging by the set up, it looks like they use the primary front door, and the back ramp that must lead down to the motor pool to get in and out. But the motor pool’s shuttered and I didn’t see a way to open it from the outside.”

Gearing looks down as he bobs his head around. “It probably either opens from the inside, or has some kind of card reader to get in. If we’re lucky it’d have a terminal that controls the gate on the outside, but I won’t hold my breath on that.”

Dandy looks between the other members of the group as she asks, “So, what? Are we going to try one of the smaller emergency exit doors that are normally on the side or back of these types of buildings?” She looks over at Gearing and tilts her head as she asks, “Or do you have something more covert in mind?”

“Right through the front door?” Gearing asks as he stares straight ahead at apparently nothing in particular.

Dandy squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head before she asks, “What?”

“Through the front door,” Gearing repeats. He looks over at her and adds, “Me and Handy go in first, and you two follow in shortly after. We’re the most heavily armored of the group, so it’d make sense for us to be the first ones through the door. Just make sure to stay near Swift.” He looks over at Swift and adds, “If you guys need help, send a message, and we’ll meet up with you as soon as we can.”

Dandy smirks and turns her head as she waves a hoof dismissively at him. “Yeah, yeah… and don’t forget to message us if you are the one that needs some backup.” She whips out several of her pistol boxes with her levitation field so quickly her white coat flicks up as she points them at his head and grins at him. “I’m not some tender hoof, here, you know. I can more than take care of myself.”

Gearing turns his head to look at her, and actually pushes a couple of the pistol boxes back, before he says in his modulatedly grumbly voice, “I hear that.” She grins and, just as quickly, stows her pistols back into their individual holsters. Gearing looks around at the group and asks, “Well, are we going to do this or not?”

Swift nods and waves him away with a forehoof as she says with a giggle, “Yeah, yeah… go ahead and go introduce yourselves… we’ll be hanging back and, if you don’t message sooner, we’ll follow in after a few minutes.”

Handy nods, leans over, and gives Swift a kiss on the cheek before he turns and starts heading for a missing window out to the side of the building. “Come on, Gearing, the sooner we get this started, the sooner we can get done and get out of here.”

“Finally,” Gearing grumbles as he follows Handy out through the gap and into a small walkway between the buildings that leads to the street out front.

After they’ve left, Dandy looks over at Swift and asks, “Did something seem off with Gearing to you, or was that just me?” Swift looks over at Dandy and frowns, causing Dandy to nod and look out the front window as she says softly, “Yeah, that’s what I thought…”

* * *

After getting away from the building, Gearing and Handy run across the street, with Gearing quickly taking the lead. As they are climbing the massive stairs that lead up to the police headquarters portico they keep looking around for anyone that might be looking for a fight. Unlike many similar porticos for the other government buildings, this one’s roof does not extend all the way to the top of the building’s roof. Instead it only goes up to what would be the point between the second and third floor.

And, as they get closer, Gearing’s focus jumps from one roughly semi-circle of scrap to the next on top of the portico’s roof before he says, “The turrets that were out front have already been destroyed.” Then he scurries into the darker cover provided by the sets of large stone columns that are supporting the portico’s roof.

The pair pauses on the portico, and uses the pillars to hide behind as they take in the scene at the front doors.

The entire portico is littered with trash. Various things discarded from the current occupants who have simply dropped it and left it to rot where it fell. A good portion of which is doing so merrily as there are bloody globules scattered around, and more than a few freshly gnawed bones. On the left of the set of doors is a trash can that’s been filled with one flammable material or another, and is constantly burning. Currently there’s a piece of a tire in it that continuously belches out black smoke. All the while roasting and charring a porcelain doll that’s inside of a shopping cart that was capsized and placed on top of the burning trash can to act as an improvised grill. From the remnants on the porcelain doll, it’s pretty easy to see that at one time, it had a nice set of doll’s clothes on it, and the mane and tail was some kind of faux hair plastic that’d melted down to charred stubs.

To the right of the doors is an overturned trash can, with the bones of some pony arranged to make it look like the pony was trying to grab hold of the long vertical bars that run the length of the mesh trash can. If it wasn’t for the fact that the majority of the bones are missing, especially spinal bones, it would give concern that somepony had been left to die in there like a personal prison until they completely wasted away.

But, even as old as the bones are, whoever had done this had obviously wanted to bring that sort of twisted scenario to the mind’s eye of any who’d seen it. Whether as a warning or for their own perverse kicks there’s no telling.

Handy peeks in through the grimy glass and metal doors as he says quietly, “So… through the front door, huh?”

Gearing grunts through the respirator before he says, “Yeah… straight up the middle.”

Handy looks over at him and asks, “So do we draw straws on who has to go in first or-” Gearing throws open the door he was looking through and starts stepping through before Handy even finishes speaking. “Tag, your it I guess?” Handy pulls his own door open and starts walking in as Gearing starts walking straight towards the center of the foyer of the building.

It becomes abundantly clear that the foyer area where those coming in first interact with the building’s occupants is actually a massive atrium. The skylight that Swift had mentioned is visible high above, and provides more than enough light to make the entire first level around the ovaloid welcome desk completely visible. And, with the overhead skylight, and the open floor plan, they can look up and see the above three floors of doors peeking out around the railing that encompasses the atrium on every level except the first.

The ovaloid desk in the center has multiple terminals set on its surface all the way around, and a couple of them seem to still work, given their faint glow. Others are nothing more than fancy trash, a perfect partner for the rest of the refuse that’s scattered everywhere.

As Handy is trailing behind Gearing, who’s heading straight for the desk, he notices that Gearing ducks his head down and to the side, under the inside right edge of his trench coat pseudo armor. He’s about to ask Gearing where they should go next, When Gearing jumps up and lands on top of the nearest edge of the welcome desk, before jumping clear over to the opposite side. In the process he kicks a tin can that goes skittering across the police headquarters’ stone tiled floor. But the noise is entirely drowned out by something far louder.

As Gearing fires off two rounds from his massive revolver.

Bahdoom. Bahdoom.

Handy stutter steps and reaches up with a hoof to hold his ear as he recoils from the sound. “What the hell, Gearing?! What did you load that with, balefire bombs?!” As his eyes focus he can see pieces of red bits fall and settle on the other side of the table as Gearing looks back and forth at the results of his decision.

Handy runs around the desk and looks down, to find three ponies sprawled out on the ground. Each of them are covered from nose to flank with pockmarks from very equine looking bites. Of the one mare’s eyes he can see, he notices the tell tale sign of the yellowed eyed madness that he’d suffered through himself.

Although, in this moment, he can’t help but be glad that Gearing had chosen, and had the ability, to shoot him in the head with something that helped him. Instead of with that cannon he’s toting around. One of the shots entirely ripped off the top part of one mare’s head, with the bullet passing through and blowing out the back portion of the mare next to hers neck. Resulting in exposed vertebrae being revealed in such a way that they look like oversized teeth of a mouth that’s formed on the back of the mare’s head. The buck that was with them, and apparently was given a bullet all his own, was shot down and at an angle that put the bullet through his head, then through his own torso, which continued on until it made a massive hole out his underside and splattered viscera across the stone tile.

The leather like armor that looks like it came from office furniture that they are wearing, did nothing at all to stop the devastation unleashed upon them. It couldn’t even keep the buck’s insides from bursting out of himself from the inside like an overfilled water balloon.

Handy looks up at Gearing and points a hoof at the fresh corpses. “So we’re just going to walk in, and shoot the place up. That’s your plan?”

Gearing looks over at Handy, causing him to flinch as he momentarily stares down the massive bore of the revolver Gearing is wielding. He stares at Handy for a few moments before his modulated voice replies back, “Yes. I don’t feel like hunting them down.”

As he’s jumping off the desk to the stone floor, Swift and Dandy run in through the front door. They look around the atrium and slowly trail their eyes over to Gearing as he swaps out new cartridges into his revolver.

Swift looks around again before asking, “I thought I heard a bomb go off?”

Handy points at Gearing and replies with his eyes narrowed and his ears laid back, “He fired that big fucking gun of his.”

Gearing looks over at them and nods towards the left, then the right. “Which way you want to go? We’ll go the other.”

Swift and Dandy look back and forth as they look at the two primary hallways that lead off from the atrium welcome and information desk. Swift points towards the left as she says, “We’ll go this way, you guys go the other way. If you find Lodestar, let us know.”

Gearing nods and starts walking towards the right as he says, “I’m all over it.”

Swift looks around at the welcome desk, the computers, and everything left out and untouched, including a random partial box of fancy buck cakes, and calls after Gearing, “You’re not going to look in the terminals? Or take anything with you?”

“No,” his modulated voice comes back as he opens up the first door in the hallway and looks in before closing it and continuing down the hallway.

“Not even a smart ass comment about using your gun to introduce yourself, and saying it was my suggestion?” Swift prods.

Gearing doesn’t even react as he heads into the hallway that breaks off from the main area on the right side of the massive atrium. Swift looks over at Dandy, sharing eye contact for a moment before saying, “Yeah… you thought right…”

Handy follows after Gearing, walking sideways as he looks at her, “What?”

Swift waves him off with a hoof and turns to head towards the left. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it… you two take care.”

“And watch where you’re going! Let Gearing go first! You’re eyes are shit,” Dandy adds before heading off with Swift.

As Handy catches up to Gearing, he takes in the sights of the various decorations of the ancient government building. Along the walls are the typical propaganda posters put out by the wonderful ponies at the Ministry of Image. Requests for recruits for the various branches of the military. Warnings of incursions by zebra infiltrators and assassins. There’s even a token poster featuring the pink maned head of the Ministry of Peace pleading for everyone to do better. All of them worn and faded by time and various violence that has taken place in the last two centuries.

But they aren’t the only decorations in the long hallway.

In between the various official Ministry of Image posters, and far greater in number, are various pieces put out by the Hoofington Police Department. Various news articles about things the police have done to curb not only local crime, but help with the war effort by helping to sniff out spies and saboteurs even in their local areas. Among them are various busts of ponies, mares and bucks alike, set upon pedestals along the sides of the hallway and made from various materials. Stone. Brass. Copper. A couple even look like they were made of fired terracotta clay.

Almost all of them have some sort of damage from one form of vandalism or another, and a few of them have even been knocked over or outright smashed.

As Gearing is opening up a door on the right to peek in, just as Handy catches up to him, Handy’s eyes get drawn to a group of gold lettering just past the door set into some type of black stone that has been polished to a near mirror finish. Gearing pokes his head in the room, and sways side to side, before he pulls his front half back out and starts across the hall to the door behind Handy.

Handy points at the black polished stone, and asks, “Any idea what this is all about?”

Gearing pauses opening the door, long enough to look over at the wall. He stares at it for a moment before returning his focus to the door he was about to open, and heading in again. “Yeah.”

Handy looks back at him, obviously expecting more of an answer, and frowns at Gearing as he reemerges from the apparently empty room. “Well?”

Gearing looks at him, at the wall again, then turns and continues down the hallway as he says, “Those are the names of the officers that lost their lives in the line of duty…”

Handy’s head whips back and forth quickly before he asks, “What makes you think that? There’s a lot of names here.”

Gearing turns, walks over, and runs a hoof in a straight line, underlining the line of dates under the names. “Name. Rank. And a date…” he turns and quickly opens the next door as he says, “I know a memorial when I see one.” He moves across the hall and pulls the next door open and looks in as he grumbles, “The country was full of them before it turned into a giant one itself.” He doesn’t lean in this time and simply turns his head before he shuts the door again.

Handy watches as Gearing takes a few steps, but stops and looks to his left. As Handy watches him. Gearing moves some of the various rubble and debris out of the way with a forehoof before he grabs a long tarnished brass pole.

Gearing looks side to side, and turns sideways, using a hind leg to kick off the heavier bits of stone and masonry from the cloth he’s trying to uncover. He grabs the pole in his armored fetlock and carefully lifts it up. And as he’s tilting and uprighting it, the Equestrian flag dangles down from the end and waves with the air for the first time in centuries. Although it’s from Gearing moving it, and not some wind this time.

The flag is damaged and stained. With many holes of various sizes in it from different abuses and out right age. But, miraculously, it’s still mostly intact. Gearing stands there gently brushing off more of the dust and dirt as he looks the old flag over. “Like this flag, the country was once something new, brilliant, and amazing…” he aggressively brushes off a few stubborn pieces of stone that are practically glued to the fabric with dried mud as he adds, “And then somepony went and fucked it all up…”

Handy walks towards him a bit as he looks at the ancient cloth. “It’s just a bit of fabric. It’s nothing important.” He looks at Gearing and raises an eyebrow. “Why do you care about it so much?”

Gearing looks over at him and sucks in air through the respirator before he grumbles. “It’s not about a piece of cloth. It’s about what it represented.”

“The princesses?”

“Fuck no! A country isn’t about its leaders. And damn sure not about those two. It’s not about the land either. A country is about its people. The people are what matter. And, as long as the people endure, the country remains. Even if the land is destroyed or taken from them.” He turns to look at the flag again as he says, a bit quieter, “A country’s job is to protect its people, and of them all it’s the job of the leaders to make sure it gets done. And done correctly.”

Handy looks around, and starts batting at a second brass pole on the ground with a forehoof mindlessly as he says, “Yeah, well, looking around… I’d say somepony dropped the ball…”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth…” Gearing gushes with a snort as he looks down at the ground around their hooves.

“You look sweet, give us a taste!” a mare’s voice joyfully cackles out.

Before either of them can react a mare with an old ripped Hoofington Police Department uniform, with many chains and bits of rubber wrapped around the outside in spiky streamers, has jumped over and tackled Handy from behind.

Handy rolls with her, and the blow, to the side, losing his grip on his mallet as he tumbles with her across the hallway. The mare’s face is covered in a variety of scars, and around her brilliant green eyes is a sea of diseased yellow. Eyes that are gleaming with excitement as she leans in and starts snapping at Handy’s face with audible clicks of her teeth as she just misses him with each rapid fire nip. He keeps her up and away from himself with his forehooves, and kicks at her with his hind hooves, as he grabs the grip of his pistol from its holster and starts bringing it around to shoot her.

He dodges a few more snaps, and quickly jerks his head around to point his Proditor’s Gladius at the crazed mare. But before he clicks the safety off and fires, one of her eyes explodes and is replaced with a golden shine that lengthens out of his peripheral vision.

Her thrashing stops instantly and her body quickly goes limp as it’s held aloft by the protrusion coming out of her face, until her body is flicked to the side with all of the force emanating from the golden glow.

Handy follows it over and to the side, and after a moment of staring he finally recognizes one of the flag poles. A flag pole that had been used as a spear and skewered the mare right through the eye with its supposedly decorative pointed end. Handy looks around quickly as he’s rolling over onto his side and sees Gearing standing right next to, and practically over, him.

After stowing his pistol, Handy asks with a gasp of breath, “Where’d the hell she come from!?”

Gearing points off to the side, drawing Handy’s attention to the now wide open door that they had just passed. “There.”

Handy looks up at him with his eyes wide with surprise. “I thought you checked it?!”

“Apparently not well enough…”

“Apparently!”

Gearing looks at Handy and asks, “You okay?”

Handy quickly jumps back up onto his hooves as he nods. “Yeah. I’ll- I’ll be fine. She just startled me, that’s all.”

“You really should keep the safety off when you’re in the thick of it.”

“I… just don’t wanna shoot somepony I don’t mean to accidentally.”

“Fair.”

Handy looks him over and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “How’d you not see her? You checked the room, didn’t you?”

Gearing gives a single shake of his head before his modulated voice replies, “I only looked in to see if the red indicators were in the room. She may have been in a storage closet in there. I don’t know. I did not enter and clear it. We don’t have time to clear each and every room in this building before we find Lodestar. He’s the priority.”

Handy looks around with a frown as he picks up his pneumatic hammer. “Yeah, it’s hard to tell which floor these jackasses are on, ain’t it?”

A gust of wind comes from the direction of the entry atrium and disturbs the dirt and lighter debris around them as it causes Handy’s tail and mane to dance about. Both of them turn to look in the direction of the gush of air as various noises start to greet them ranging from metallic clangs to equine murmurs. The ghostly sounds are traveling a distance and it’s only because of the breeze coming from that direction that they can hear it at all, even as faint as it is.

“A door must have opened somewhere and caused a difference in pressure,” Gearing muses aloud as he looks back and forth between where the noise is coming from and where they are heading. He looks over at Handy and, noticing the concerned look on his face, asks, “You can head back that way and help them if you’re worried. Do not concern yourself with me.”

Handy looks over at him for a moment before shaking his head and actually laughing. A long, loud, nearly obnoxious laugh, but genuine nevertheless. “If I did something like that, my wife would have my hide.” He changes his voice a bit, in a horrible imitation of Swift’s, as he mocks, “What are you doing here?! I can take care of myself!” He waves his forehoof towards a fallen bit of masonry along the side of the hallway and grins as he continues, “You stay right there and watch, I’ll show you, then I’ll kick your ass all the way back to where I told you to go in the first place!” He shrugs and shakes his head as he continues in the same mocking tone. “Why do I have to do everything around here, you jackass!” He giggles some more then looks at Gearing with a near twinkle in his eye.

After staring at Handy for a few moments in silence. Measuring him up and his strange, for him, reaction, Gearing asks, “Really enjoying that married life, aren’t ya?”

Handy twirls his hammer by its handle before nodding and starting back down the hallway the way they are going. “Wouldn’t trade it for the world!” Not far from their ambusher a hallway that crosses this one creates a perpendicular intersection to their path. Before he reaches it, Handy’s eyes are drawn to a dark poster on the right side of the hall. He walks over and quickly his face morphs into the bitterest scowl Gearing has ever seen on Handy’s face.

Handy sets the hammer down, head down with the handle leaning against the wall, as he stares at the ancient piece of propaganda. A changeling mare with half of her body and face in the image of a yellow mare earth pony, with a bit of green glowing fire at the divide, smiles out at the viewer deviously as they have one hoof pulling out a box labeled ’Top Secret’ from a safe along the right side of the poster.

The word at the top declares with text that resembles some kind of slimy ooze: BEWARE!

At the bottom it adds, They can be anywhere. Report suspected Changeling sightings. See something: Say something!

Handy grabs the poster’s top left corner with his left forehoof and yanks it off the wall. He quickly chomps down on the right corner and starts ripping the poster to shreds with both his hooves and teeth. In short order the poster has been reduced to nearly unidentifiable confetti. He snorts and kicks the pieces away, but freezes as his eyes go wide at a sudden realization brought by booted hooffalls.

Gearing walks by him, heading towards the intersection, but says nothing at all to him, nor about the display. He doesn’t even give any indication if he’d seen it at all as his head looks back and forth along the two possible ways they could go that break off from the hallway they’ve found themselves in. As Handy is quickly shooing away pieces of the poster with a hind hoof, Gearing looks back at him and says, while pointing towards the right path, “There’s a set of stairs leading up right here. Let’s head up and see if there’s any places they might be trying to hide Lodestar up there.”

Handy gives one last kick at a bit of shredded slimy green text as he’s picking his hammer back up. “Sure. Sounds good. Let’s go,” he adds rapidly as he looks around to see if anyone had actually been paying attention.

They quickly climb up to the second floor, only to find that the second floor hallway has been barricaded and blocked up with various debris and trash. At least in the direction that they are wanting to go. The only way available to go from that stairwell, without tearing through the blockade, would be back towards the entry atrium. They opt to head up another floor instead, and try their luck on the third floor.

The third floor, while not clean by any measure, is not nearly as clogged up. Although the entire hallway, in every conceivable direction, has had one piece of furniture or another tossed around haphazardly. It doesn’t take them long to discover where most of the furniture had come from, as they find a large wide open office area that seems to be where some officers and detectives anchored their work from in the communal space. At least those that didn’t have their own offices. A few of the desks are still around, and in roughly the same place they were intended to be two centuries before, but most of the contents of the open floor plan have been tossed aside, if not actually removed. As the pair walk through the space heading towards the back end of the administration section, they take note of the various evidence of the current inhabitants.

Especially the many places that have obviously been used for sleeping arrangements. And a couple of them seem to be circled up like little camps of their own within the bigger space. Complete with improvised cooking equipment made of cans, bricks, and wire mesh.

The decorative ‘improvements’ along the walls with various equine bones and body parts gives them a very clear picture of who claimed this space as their home.

“Should we be concerned about the number of bodies that this room can fit? And obviously live here?” Handy asks as he stares at a pile of bloody cloth that has been piled up with couch cushions to make a disgusting looking bed in the nook of a tipped over metal desk.

“If you mean ‘Where are they all?’ then… yes… you should be,” Gearing’s grumbling modulated voice replies as he looks back and forth at their surroundings instead of actually looking at him. “I don’t hear them either…”

“Like in a ‘Nopony’s home’ kind of way, or a ‘We’re walking into an ambush’ kinda way?”

Gearing actually stops walking and turns his head to look at Handy before he replies, “Like we just missed them, and they’re somewhere else kinda way…”

Handy checks his PipBuck as a message comes in, and quickly starts looking around as he says with a gush, “Swift’s in trouble, we need to get to them!”

Gearing looks around then points off to the back corner as he starts running that way. “What’d she say?! Where are they?”

Handy runs after him as he says, “It’s not what she said but how she said it. Message is screwed up like she had trouble tapping it out and sending it.” As they reach the door, Gearing doesn’t even bother opening it as he simply jumps up and at the door with his normal stride. But the door instantly yields and bursts into many wooden fragments from his considerable bulk. Handy adds as he jumps through the new opening and into another hallway after Gearing, “Only reason she’d do something like that is if she was in the middle of some trouble and needed help.”

“Not just fat-hooved the dials?” Gearing asks as he keeps running straight down this new hallway that is flanked by a near endless line of wooden doors with various brass plaques on them.

“I know my wife!” Handy bellows. “She doesn’t like asking or accepting help, so if she’s asking…”

“It’s bad…” Gearing finishes for him as he looks both ways down an intersecting hallway that they are set to cross, only to instantly change directions and jump back and to the right to redirect himself down the new short hallway.

“Do you even know where you’re going?!”

After a few more full paces Gearing jumps to the side and shoulder rams a metal door to his left as he yells, “Not really!”

But beyond the door is a stairwell with stairs going both up and down. However, the stairs down only take them to the second floor and they quickly emerge into a section of hallway that is different than the others. With the hallways not being perfectly in line with the one above it for some reason. He continues running down the hallways, jumping over various furniture and taking one sharp turn after another with Handy hot on his tail.

“Then why are we just running this way?!”

“Shortest distance is a straight line!” Gearing replies as he jumps at the door at the end of the hallway and crashes through it, knocking the fragments clear across the rather wide room. He stops inside and spins around in a circle as he quickly looks around himself and then downward.

Handy runs into the room, and looks around, quickly swinging his pneumatic hammer around to gain momentum as he tries to size up the room. But, is left more confused than ever. “Gearing, no one’s here…”

The room looks like an old classroom of sorts, with a podium at the very front, and a collection of white boards and cork bulletin pin boards at the far end to their right. Even after all this time a few various notices with duty rosters, general warnings about various areas around The Hoof, and strings of wanted posters hang from their pins. The rest of the space seems to have been dedicated to seats. Though the majority of the seats have been thrown against the various walls to make room for whoever chose this room as their personal quarters.

Gearing points down and towards the back wall below the cork boards. “There. They’re down there.”

Handy looks over and shifts side to side as he tries to make out anything through the sea of red showing up on his EFS. But, there, as indicated, was a blue indicator zipping around and barely being visible among all of the red. “Shit! We got to get down there!” He looks around quickly as he asks, “Did your mapping feature find a stairwell we could use?” He quickly looks at his PipBuck and starts going over his local surroundings as he says, “Mine’s not being helpful.”

Both of their heads jump up to an air vent set low in the wall where sounds of various gunfire and unintelligible screaming steadily pours out from somewhere nearby.

Gearing shakes his head. “No, but we can get there if we just keep going straight.”

Handy rolls his eyes and turns towards the door they’d just come through. “We could be running in circles all day like that. They need help, and now.” He starts back out the door they came through as he adds, “I at least know where that one stairwell is; I’ll just go use that one.”

“I got a faster way,” Gearing yells after him.

“Great, meet you there, then!” Handy yells with a tone that clearly gets across his annoyance and disbelief.

* * *

“This would be so much easier if you’d get off your high wagon and pick up a fucking gun!” Dandy yells as she hides behind an overturned metal desk on top of the raised stage where, in the distant past, medals and commendations were bestowed and news conferences were held to answer questions from the media and update the public at large.

The once proud hall, with three large doors set into the middle of the three walls that aren’t blocked by the raised stage, has turned into a war zone of its own. Blood and bodies are strewn around everywhere as fresher versions are thrown around to add to the mosaic of death.

Swift spins around, dodging a spear that was thrown at her by spiraling in a circle, before she comes back with the same spear and drops down straight onto a blood soaked mare in a Hoofington Police Department uniform. Skewering her and pinning her to the ground like she were some sort of insect display. But the crazed brown mare doesn’t stop moving. Instead she flails around, showing little regard for the hunk of steel protruding from her chest, as she throws various bits of sharp metal and glass in Swift’s general direction.

The mare cackles as she keeps whipping her head in various directions in search of Swift, “Turkey for my tummy. Turkey for my tummy. Turkey for my tummy!”

The seat portion of a metal chair zips up in a magical glow, and blunts another makeshift spear that was chucked at Swift, as she is busy dancing around another pair of mares that are trying their best to catch Swift with a set of spiked and bladed chains. Swift quickly looks in the direction of the blood coming from her side as she winces, with the tip of the spear still making it through the chair, and quickly moves out of the way as more blades are thrown in her direction.

Swift stays in the center of the room, as much as she can, as more of the uniform wearing crazed ponies stream in from the three doors. She feels someone start making contact from her right, and rolls up and over them to avoid getting caught, before snapping her wings and coming back down on top of them with her powerhoof. Though she only manages a single strike with it before having to snap away from the encroaching horde.

But, given the satisfying crunch sound released, she’s pretty sure the one blow to the back of the buck’s head was all it was going to take anyway. So she’s not too disappointed.

“A single gun isn’t going to help with this; we need to take care of the group as a whole. Drop a building on them or something!” She swerves side to side as she avoids a few knives being thrown at her by the group of earth ponies coming in the right side door. “Where are they all coming from? Tartarus?!” She flies backwards, towards Dandy, as she tries to avoid a shower of broken glass hurled at her and is only marginally successful.

The room starts shaking as the sound of a thundercloud rumbling echoes throughout the room and crescendos into something similar to a high caliber autocannon unleashing it’s payload on some unsuspecting individual. In the middle of the growing, roaring sound, bits of the ceiling start flying down in clouds of dust, and the noise gets louder as more of the ceiling is reduced to flying debris. Swift and Dandy look up in time to watch something tearing through the ceiling in a line that roughly resembles a circular pattern as the loud noise threatens to bring down the house.

But then it does. Part of it at least.

The center of the room’s ceiling drops down as the strain of the weight becomes too much for the remaining bits to hold it up any longer with all of the destruction being unleashed on it.

Swift dives backwards, ponypiling onto Dandy as the room fills with a cloud of smoke as a large hunk of the concrete ceiling crashes down, as a solid mass, onto the group of crazed ponies she’d just been trying to deal with.

“Oh what the fuck is it now?!” Dandy cries out in dismay as she peeks up just enough to try and look at the devastation that’s been unleashed in the room.

As the dust is settling, and fragments of the roof are still coming down, an augmented voice replies from the cloud of smoke, “You called down the thunder…”

With the room having become even harder to traverse with a massive hunk of the ceiling blocking up the middle of the room, the groups of yellow eyed assailants have a hard time getting around at all. But, even in their crazed state, the noise and disruption is too much for even them to ignore, and draws their attention as they try to figure out what to do next. Although, their contemplation is practically nonexistent as they are already converging on the spot of the ceiling collapse before they can even see what all came down with the ceiling. As, if nothing else, they see a faint red glow in the cloud of dust.

“...Now reap the whirlwind!” the same synthetic voice yells out as Gearing, with his helmet’s red lenses turned on, jumps out of the cloud of smoke with his outer jacket thrown back and folded between his wings on his back. His wings are covered with a flexible, almost rubbery, material that has been reinforced with a variety of ridged strips for supports. But, as weird as his wings look, they provide enough thrust for him to move forward at a decent speed.

Enough to land on a group of the assailants and not even stop as two of them are ground into paste under his outstretched hooves. As he tumbles with the strike, he kicks off a wall and changes direction, causing massive chunks to break away as he jumps onto another group of raiders.

Swift hovers over the barricade that Dandy is hiding behind as she yells, “I thought you said you can’t fly in that?!”

He summarily tramples a trio of raiders, whose ‘armor’ and outfit do nothing at all to slow the massive bulk that gets dropped on them. Gearing snorts as he yells back, “Crashing.” He crushes one’s head. “Is not.” A buck jumps on him from behind and starts trying to gnaw on his neck, but doing nothing even around the massive shoulder and neck protector, until Gearing scrapes him off with a foreleg and throws him down to the ground at his hooves. “Flying!” He grabs a concrete bust set next to the wall and smashes it down onto the buck’s head, instantly painting the floor with more bloody material.

Swift zips over and intercepts a mare that was in mid air from a leap that would have taken her, and her spear, onto Gearing’s back. She spins around in mid air and slams her into the ground, before taking her powerhoof to the back of the mare’s head. She hits her a few more times as she looks over at Gearing and asks, “Where the hell’s Handy?!”

Gearing points up with a hoof as he says, “He decided to take the long way.” He kicks up a piece of stone that had fallen from the ceiling and bucks it with a hind leg, sending it soaring and hitting a mare in the side of the head as she was charging Swift. The now even more bloody faced mare’s front legs give out from the impact, and cause her to tumble end over and before crashing to a halt right next to Swift. Just in time for Swift to share her powerhoof with her as well.

More of the raiders start pouring in from the various doors as Gearing and Swift turn and start backing towards the raised stage as they welcome the new arrivals with lethal intent of their own.

“Dandy, how are you on ammo?” Gearing yells as he ducks under a buck that had jumped at him, and bucks the over zealous raider clear across the room and causes him to crash into the ones that were coming in from the right door.

“Low! Real fucking low! Like criminally low! Like there oughta be a law against it kind of low!” Dandy replies as she carefully shoots one target after another. But, by her selective fire, and the amount of time between her shots, it’s painfully obvious she’s trying to make each shot count.

Gearing jumps over to the barricade in front of Dandy, grabs the desk she’s hiding behind, and throws it at the door to the right.

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she’s suddenly revealed and asks, “The hell you do that for?!”

“Cover’s not going to help if we can’t slow them down enough to handle them,” Gearing retorts before he grabs a folding metal chair and chucks it towards the center of the middle door, causing a couple of the raiders to stumble over it as they are coming in.

“What the fuck?! Where’d this hole come from!?” Handy yells from above as he looks down.

Gearing looks up at him and yells back, “I told you I had a shorter way!”

“Oh shit!” both Swift and Handy yell out simultaneously before the room is filled with the sound of a roaring machine gun.

Gearing looks to the side, and simultaneously spins around and gently bucks Dandy further back across the raised stage as he jumps to the side, and more out into the open.

A mare trots in from the door on the left with a battle saddle that has a pair of smaller caliber machine guns mounted to each side. The battered SWAT gear she’s wearing tells a long story of pain and misery unleashed on many individuals. And the way she opens up with the machine guns, indiscriminately, and not caring if most of the bullets are hitting, wounding, and killing, those on her own side makes it no wonder on how it got that way. Nor leaves any question about her current mental state.

Gearing gets stabbed by a buck that’d charged him with a spear, but grabs the buck and turns with him, and his spear, and uses his body as a shield to try and deaden the stream of lead getting focused on him by the twin machine guns.

Apparently Gearing being the slowest and easier to shoot makes him this mare’s preferred target.

As bullets are ripping through the raider buck’s body, long after he’s dead, Gearing keeps shying away from the stream of fire as various bullets impact and bounce off of his armor. He quickly drops the jacket back to its normal hanging position after the sound of crunching glass greets everyone’s ears.

Dandy hops up and unleashes her own version of a lead storm at the approaching mare. Only to have the majority of the bullets bounce harmlessly off the heavily armored mare’s SWAT barding.

A couple of the spiky chains leap up from the ground, where they had been dropped by their previous owners, and tangle up Swift’s wings as she’d been focusing on the mare with the dual machine guns.

Swift hits the ground hard as her wings are bit into by the razors and spikes and the chains just bind tighter by the second. She looks at them, and notices the faint glow, before she looks up at the middle door and sees a trio of unicorns walking towards her with knives in their mouths. They are drooling excessively around the mouth grips and their horns uniformly glow as they control the chains binding her. “Fucking unicorns! Cheating fucks!” Swift yells as she struggles against the chains that are cutting and biting into her along most of her body and wings.

“Dandy, save your ammo for unarmored targets!” Gearing yells as he turns his head and aims his large revolver, having used the time the dead buck’s body bought him to draw it, at the mare with the machine guns. He fires two quick rounds, and both of them tear right through the mare’s breast plate. But, they apparently do nothing to slow her down as she rotates side to side and sprays the room with hot lead.

Gearing stands up entirely, aiming carefully, and fires one successive shot after another at the mare. Plugging one overcharged round after another into a tight cluster in the center of her chest. But, after clicking empty, all he’s really succeeded in doing is putting a tight grouping of bleeding holes in her chest, and she doesn’t seem to be slowing at all. But she is focusing her fire on Gearing now as he’s earned her undivided attention with his love taps.

The unicorns controlling the chains around Swift start falling over as they’re getting close to her. And, as each one dies, the chains become less problematic, until she manages to leap at the last one herself. She unleashes her pain and rage on the mare with one powerhoof strike after another. All while the mare keeps slashing at her with the razor chains. Another unicorn, a buck that’d come up after the first three, falls in a heap after another one of Dandy’s well placed shots finds its mark in one of his yellow eyes, and drops him as well.

As the mare in the SWAT armor crosses the center of the room, going after Gearing and forcing him towards the right side door, a blue blur comes from above.

Handy spins in mid air, swinging his pneumatic hammer as he’s coming down, and smashes the SWAT armor wearing mare right in the middle of the back, using the fall and the pneumatic action of the hammer to deliver a devastating blow that even she obviously felt.

The mare’s legs wobble and splay out as she tries to catch her footing after being struck so hard. She turns her head to look behind her, only to look right in time to catch Handy’s pneumatic hammer to the face.

Ka-ta-TSSHHH.

Blood spurts out through the cracks and gaps, both designed and created through this act of violence in equal measure, in the muzzle guard of the helmet as it’s partially caved in and her head gets knocked backwards. Even though a few fragments of the helmet get knocked loose and away, and the gush of blood testifies that he’s managed to inflict a serious wound, the armor does its creators proud by keeping its bearer alive and on her hooves.

Despite what they might have otherwise wished to the contrary if they were ever informed about this situation.

The mare lets out a gurgling cry of manic rage as she pours on the fire blindly and starts bucking around in a circle as she simply holds down the trigger on her weapon and tries to shoot anyone and everyone within range. Especially whoever just smacked her across the face with a pneumatic hammer.

Handy tumbles around and keeps spinning in a circle around her as the mare ponifies a water sprinkler attached to a bullet hose with the stream of hot lead barely missing him in some instances, and others clinking and plinking off his own armor. But, like in many instances, trying something enough times can start providing results as many bullets do find their way past Handy’s armor to draw blood from him in retaliation for his own actions.

Swift quickly took to the air to avoid the indiscriminate fire, with a smirk on her face as her ground bound assailants had no such advantage and thus were cut down by a member of their own group. But the smirk disappeared quickly as she saw Handy taking fire, and even from her perspective she can see that a few of the rounds have found their mark.

In her husband.

She zips down from above, powerhoof held wide, and connects to the top of the bullet hose mare’s helmet with a strike that knocks her down to her front knees. Mid spinning buck.

Handy takes the momentary respite of playing keep away from the hot lead to ready his weapon and comes back at the mare with another swing of his pneumatic hammer.

Swift tangles up the apparently blind mare’s legs with her own, bringing her down to the ground where the two start kicking and writhing against each other.

Handy comes in with a swing parallel to the ground and connects with the mare’s helmeted head again, on the opposite side of where he’d struck her before, causing another spurt of blood to come flying out of the muzzle guard as more of the armor is removed. Swift uses her right foreleg to pin the mare’s forelegs down as she rains one powerhoof strike after another at whatever target she can hit. All the while taking repeated kicks to her own abdomen from the mare’s hind legs.

The sounds of crinkling and crunching glass greet their ears a split second before a modulated voice screams, “This is why I like rifles!” Gearing lowers his head into the fray and starts unloading a freshly loaded cylinder into the head of the armored mare as Handy and Swift hold her down. Both of them wince and flinch as the large caliber revolver goes off in such close proximity to them. The first shot blows away large fragments of the helmet as the round is astoundingly deflected by it. But the following four rounds proceed straight through and inflict so much devastating damage that the last two actually punch through the mare’s head entirely and put bloody pock marks in the polished stone floor of the media room. “More stopping power!” Gearing roars as he turns around and looks at the center door as a couple more raiders meander into the room to join in the bloody merriment of bloodshed.

“Fuck, Gearing, couldn’t give a mare a little warning before blowing out my eardrums?!” Swift yells as she holds one of her ears with a bloody forehoof.

Handy groans as he sits and holds his side with one hoof. He shakes his head a bit before he looks over at Dandy and asks, “Hey, horn head, you use twenty twos, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Dandy asks as she fires one careful shot after another at the door on the left to drop anyone coming in through that way. Handy rummages through his bag and flicks a bloody bundle of cloth at her. She catches it midair with her levitation and quickly pulls it closer. Inside she finds a small collection of rounds and her eyes practically sparkle as she screams, “Where the hell you find these?! You been holding out on me!?”

Handy points upstairs as he says, “Found them upstairs in one of their rooms. Gearing was pretty much ignoring everything so I figured I might as well grab what I saw.”

Swift hops over to Handy and starts looking him over as she says, “You’re hit!”

“No shit,” Handy says with a scowl as he holds his abdomen.

Swift starts rummaging through his bag and quickly pulls out a dull purple potion. “We gotta get out of here, this is a dead end.”

As she’s feeding it to Handy, Gearing points up with a forehoof as he says, “There’s a way out right there. We can thin them out by making them have to hunt us down.” He nods up that way as he’s pulling out fresh rounds for his revolver. “Grab Handy and get going. Then take Dandy with you.”

“What about you?” Swift asks as she’s pulling Handy up onto his hooves.

Gearing jumps over, and starts removing one of the machine guns from the side of the mangled armored mare. “Need to thin their numbers.” He quickly pulls it off, and stands over the mare’s body on his hind legs as he holds the machine gun up with his forehooves, resting the back of it against his hind thigh. His right wing comes out from under the trench coat, in its rubbery material sleeve, making crinkling and grinding noises the entire way as the tip grabs the cable that leads to the trigger. After getting situated he turns and aims the machine gun towards the middle door and, as a group of raiders come running in, shooting a variety of firearms and throwing various bladed instruments at them, he unleashes the dead mare’s bullet hose on her crazed comrades.

Swift dodges a few of the bullets coming from the doorway, a couple hit her back right haunch and draw a scream of frustration before she grabs Handy and takes to the air. A few of the bullets zip past her in flight, and one even plinks off of Handy’s armor, as he’s quickly yanked up and over the lip of the hole blasted in the ceiling.

Gearing’s red glowing eyes change their focus from left to right as his head rotates like a slow moving turret as he keeps looking at the three different doors. As the group coming in from the left side starts getting closer to him, he pivots and aims the machine gun at them, cutting them down in fractions of a second, before starting to apply the weapons fire in alternating bursts from one to the other.

Swift hops up to the edge of the hole, and starts over and back down, but, the sudden appearance of such an attractive target proves to be too much to ignore as each and every time she tries various weapons are fired in her direction, causing her to duck back down and abandon coming back into the media room.

Gearing focuses on groups, and intentionally seems to be ignoring individuals. As, in most cases, they get cut down before they can even reach him by the weapons fire from either Dandy’s pistol boxes, or, and surprisingly for Gearing, Handy’s own Proditor’s Gladius. In the couple cases where one of the melee combatants actually make it to him, they are smacked to the side, and summarily stepped on. Although not without taking a minimally effective strike in return.

But, even so, taking the concentrated fire of the seemingly endless horde of raiders is starting to take its toll, as his trench coat is starting to look frayed from the various bullets, slashes, and stabs thrust at him.

The right side doorway suddenly becomes unblocked as a group of raiders managed to get their timing right and bucked it together hard enough to dislodge the desk that had been thrown and wedged there earlier.

Their achievement is awarded by Gearing turning the barrel of the machine gun in their direction and firing a hot burst of lead into the tightly packed hallways of yellow eyed maniacs. Gearing’s promptly rewarded with some feedback of his own.

By the silence of the machine gun as it finally clicks empty having eaten through the last of its belt like a hungry foal sucking up a spaghetti noodle.

Dandy crawls up near Gearing, using the collapsed roof rubble as cover as she yells, “Gearing, we got to get out of here!” She gets as close as she can to the hunk of ceiling, without climbing into the bloody bits that had gotten smashed out around the edges from the raiders that didn’t get out from under the falling concrete in time.

Gearing turns, and rummages through the dead armored mare’s ammo box as he yells, “Go! Get out of here. I’ll keep them busy!” After finding nothing but empty space, Gearing slams a smaller ammo box from his own stash into the mare’s saddle bag. He looks up and yells, “Swift, get Dandy out of here!” Before the words are even all the way through the modulated speakers of his helmet, he grabs the dead mare’s corpse, and starts spinning around with it. A moment later he lets it go, and hurls her body, weapons, armor, and all, across the room and into the hallway that he’d just used the last of his rounds on.

Dandy looks down as she watches pieces of green crystals fall down and out from under the trench coat from Gearing’s motions before she looks up at him and scowls. “You can’t be serious!”

The dead mare’s corpse knocks several of the other raiders back and causes a tangle as they try to get the large earth pony mare’s bulk off of them so they can continue the assault.

“Deadly!” Gearing replies before he turns and looks at her. They stare at each other for a second, which seems far longer for Dandy, before he hops forward, and on top of her.

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she rolls over with him on top of her belly to belly as she flushes and screams, “Hey! This ain’t the time for that, don’t get fresh-“

The right side of the room is engulfed in a fireball as the explosive Gearing shoved into the armored mare’s weapon storage area detonates. Thoroughly cutting off Dandy as she instinctively hunkers down more and tries to curl up to avoid the shrapnel and fire pouring out of the blast. But, with Gearing and his armored coat laying over her the exercise is unnecessary as the various pieces impact into him and ricochet off in different directions looking for something they can actually harm.

Like the other raiders that had come in through the other doors. Which the fragments are more than happy to oblige.

As the pieces flying through the air change from lethal shrapnel, to practically harmless falling debris, Gearing hops up and off of Dandy as he quickly takes stock of the change in situation. The right side door has completely collapsed as the blast caused the door supports to give out and bring the side walls in along with part of the ceiling of the hallway on that end. The other two doors still have a few raiders coming in, but all of them are looking worse for wear. And none of them are as heavily armed as the ones that were coming in from the right. Gearing grabs a rifle off the ground that the raiders on the right had been toting and starts looking it over.

Dandy rolls over, with a growing flush as she yells out loud, “Must you blow everything up?!”

Gearing ejects the magazine from the rifle, and then throws it at a raider that is shakily getting back onto their hooves. The rifle hits them in the head and knocks them back down to the ground in the process. “If it needs blowing.”

Dandy’s eyes zip side to side as she lines up her shots and steadily fires one pistol box after another. “Well, come on fly buck, gimme a lift and we can get out of here. We’ll come at them from a better angle.”

Gearing picks up an axe that had been thrown at him, and was sharp enough to actually cut the outer layer of his trench coat, with his fetlock as he shakes his head. “I’ll remain here. There’s more coming.”

Dandy zips around on him after shooting two that just came running in through the left side, adding to the practical berm of equine bodies on that side of the room, as she yells, “What the hell, Gearing?! Are you trying to get yourself killed? What in the flying fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Got a job to do.”

Dandy’s face screws up as a variety of emotions struggle to make themselves known at the same time. Frustration. Indignancy. Embarrassment. Rage. All of which swirl together as the flush on her face works its way down her neck. “Well no shit! But I need to talk to you, and I can’t do that if you get yourself killed!”

“Later,” Gearing replies as he rears up and exchanges hoof blows with a mare that had run up with a wooden spear, only for Gearing to break it with his left forehoof, and come down with the axe with his right foreleg. Her left foreleg comes off at the knee with the first swing, and the right buckles from the impact that doesn’t quite cut all the way through it. But as she’s face planting in front of Gearing, he uses his left forehoof and steps on her head before he looks back at Dandy and notices she hasn’t moved a muscle. “Later I said!”

Rage wins the mental hoof wrestle over Dandy’s other emotions as she screams, “No dammit!” She jumps on him and, surprising to her, tackles Gearing to the side as he rolls with her, but stops short as he was preparing to strike back with a hoof at whoever was jumping him, only to see her on top of him and pinning him to the ground on his back by practically laying on him. “Now! Especially if you’re gonna go and get yourself killed first!”

“This ain’t the time for this, get out of here already!” Gearing yells as he tilts his head back, and fires his revolver, upside down, at a buck that had started running in from the middle door only to catch the round in the throat and go tumbling off to the side against some other rubble as a large section of his neck’s flesh turns to nothing more than meaty confetti in the air.

“Don’t give me that shit; I’m not some tender hoof you need to protect!” Several of her pistols come out and create a circle around her head as they hover with her levitation magic. “I can take care of myself, and I’m not letting you up until you give me a straight fucking answer!”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes from her perch on the second floor and yells back down, “This ain’t the time for that! Really! Dandy! It’s really not!” And then starts nursing a pathetic looking healing potion of her own to start healing up the various cuts and gouges all over herself from the chains she’d been bound in and the couple bullets that had managed to strike true on her despite all of her dodging around.

Raiders come in from both of the remaining doors, scrambling over the other bodies, but as they crest the berm of the dead they simply end up adding to the pile as Dandy’s pistols shoot them dead in the forehead.

Dandy flops down on Gearing, grabs the collar of his trench coat with her forehooves and, with the flush zipping straight to her hooves, screams, “Did you lie about being sterile?!”

“Oh god…” Swift says with a groan as she gives a sheepish sidelong look at Handy. Although, he’s more focused on shooting any raiders he can see to have any time to be amused by the situation.

“What?” Gearing asks as he looks up at her.

“No beating around the bush! Answer me! Are you sterile or not?! Did you lie about it?”

“As far as I’m aware, yes! Why?” Gearing asks as he goes slack and genuinely has a hard time figuring out where this bizzaro world question came from.

“You sure you didn’t knock me up!? That you can’t knock me up? That’s what you said, right?!” Dandy yells in his face with more embarrassment than anger. Although the buck coming in through the left door receives the full brunt of her redirected anger.

In the form of two slugs to his face from a pair of her pistol boxes.

“Yes, I’m sure! If I wasn’t then I’d probably have hundreds of foals by now!”

“Whoa…” Swift says as her eyes go wide. “Get around much there, buddy?”

“Swift, Honey, Dearest, this is not the time to be focusing on their relationship drama!” Handy says as he reloads his pistol and goes back to firing down into the center doorway.

A couple raiders come in from the left doorway, charging together, and get brought down by a hail of small caliber rounds as Dandy doesn’t take her eyes off of Gearing’s. “Are you sure? Like sure sure?!” she asks with a near begging in her voice.

“Yes! I’m sure! I’m also sure I would have heard about something if that weren’t the case. Why? What’s wrong?” Dandy’s eyes droop and Gearing gently reaches up and rubs her upper foreleg as he asks, “Dandy?”

“But… what if you’re wrong? What if you knocked someone up? What would you do?”

“That’s not how biology works, Dandy…” Gearing says with a roll of his eyes and a modulated snort of disbelief.

She whips her head up and screams, “But what if?!” She reaches up and taps him on the side of his muzzle guard repeatedly as she asks, “What if you knocked someone up? Huh? Like… what if you were wrong, and things just weren’t right before, like compatibility or timing or whatever, but you like, somehow… Somehow… knocked… me… up.” She hangs her head and asks, “What if you knocked me up? What would you do?”

Gearing’s modulated breathing comes to an absolute standstill as he locks up from tip of tail to snoot. After a few seconds of saying nothing, but the fighting around them still carrying on, Gearing asks, “Besides being confused as hell? You mean… like… if it really were mine, and I knew it?”

She nods as she looks away. Though, simultaneously she shoots at a raider that’d peeked around the doorway to try to get an angle at them from his own spot, causing him to dodge, but then get knocked down from rounds coming from Handy instead. “Yeah… if you knew it was yours… no question… What would you do?”

“I never wanted to spread my genetic defect… but I’ve always liked kids…”

“So?” Dandy asks as she looks down at him.

“I’d want to keep it, and take care of it. Even if the mother didn’t want the responsibility… I’d do it myself if need be,” Gearing replies softly. He looks her over as she’s on the verge of tears and asks, “Why are you even asking this?”

She lays down on him as her pistols drop around them and groans into his ear quietly, “Gearing… you’re the only buck I’ve been with in over a year… If I am, then it’s yours. No doubt about it.”

Gearing’s modulated voice sputters and crackles as he twitches along his entire length. But, a split second later, he freezes in his micro spasm. He gingerly reaches up and pats her on the shoulders, rubbing her back tenderly, before he says, “If those are the only two options… then you’re not… because it’s not possible.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m not flesh and blood. I’m sorry. But it’s just not possible.”

“But I’ve already had others commenting on my symptoms and asking if I’m pregnant…” Dandy says with a groan as she lays her head on Gearing’s chest with her muzzle pointed towards the left door. A bit of movement catches her eye, and a couple of her pistols jump up off the ground and quickly shoot at the unknown moving form before dropping back to the ground along with the fresh corpse. “I don’t know what to do…”

Gearing pats her on the shoulder and replies, “How about you get a pregnancy test? If that’ll put your mind at ease, then do it. But, I’m telling you, if the only option is me, then you’re not.”

She lifts her head up, and stares at him for a moment, before she brings her right forehoof up and starts grinding it on the side of his muzzle guard. “You’re paying for it!”

Gearing chuckles and shrugs as he says, “Fine. If it’ll give ya peace of mind, sure, why not.”

“You two done with your intervention or do we need to stay here covering your sorry asses for longer?!” Handy yells as he empties his entire clip into the center doorway at a pair of uniformed raiders with pistols of their own that are shooting at him.

“Yeah, fine we can pause the conversation until after I know for sure…” Dandy concedes as she starts climbing up and off of Gearing. But as he starts scrambling back up to his hooves, she reaches out a forehoof and grinds it into the side of his armored cheek as she says, “But if it turns out I am, you are in so much trouble buster!”

“More than you know,” Gearing quips with a chuckle as he gets to his feet. He looks her in the eye through his glowing lenses, and she can practically hear the grin in his voice, even through the speakers, as he adds, “And it’ll mean having to completely reevaluate my entire life to boot!”

“Can we get the hell out of here now, please?!” Dandy asks as she ducks back down behind the ceiling’s rubble pile to dodge a few shots aimed at her as she returns fire with her pistols.

“Yeah, I’ll get you out of here,” Gearing replies as he hops over next to her and starts scooping her up with his forelegs.

“It’s about damn ti-AAGGHHH!!” Dandy yells as Gearing quickly jerks the small statured unicorn clear up off the ground before he takes a couple steps and starts charging up across the ceiling rubble pile on three legs, with Dandy flung over his shoulder like a sack and held there with a single foreleg.

Gearing jumps up in the air with Dandy, then flaps his wings to make himself start spiraling as he screams, “Swift, catch!”

Swift’s ears perk up as she peeks over the lip of the hole to see what he’s doing now, before both hers and Dandy’s eyes go wide with surprise and shock.

As Gearing uses his circular momentum to fling Dandy up through the hole, straight at Swift.

Swift intercepts the screaming unicorn package as Dandy squeals and thrashes around in midair like a yearling throwing a tantrum, causing them both to tumble back and away form the hole’s edge as Swift successfully deadens the blow with her own acrobatic maneuvers.

But, as the pair of mares are having to deal with that, Gearing’s wings bend in unnatural shapes as if the air pressure itself is too much for it, even with the coverings. And, he quickly comes back down to the ground with a hard crash. But, while he lands on all four hooves, many small fragments of green crystal scatter down noisily around him and go clattering across the stone floor as the maneuver jars them loose from what little had been holding them in their hiding places.

Gearing’s revolver roars out four more times before Dandy manages to extract herself from Swift and make it back to the edge of the hole to look down at Gearing. She watches as he picks up a spear and plants the shaft in the ground, bracing for a crazed buck covered in pockmarks and blood to impale themselves on, as Gearing’s synthesized voice screams out, “Keep it up! I dare ya!” Which they do promptly as the buck keeps snapping their jaws at Gearing’s face. The entire time Gearing holds them back, with one foreleg on their chest, and the other holding the spear in place, until the yellow eyes seem to finally notice the closer limb and they start biting on Gearing’s armored foreleg relentlessly.

A bullet from Handy’s Proditor’s Gladius makes the raider go limp, before Gearing kicks the buck’s body off his spear, and chucks it at the next in line that’d just come in the door.

Dandy waves a hoof at him to get his attention as she screams, “Why didn’t you just fly up here with me?! Trying to get rid of me? Not so fast! Get your shiny winged ass up here so we can go already!”

“I can’t,” Gearing’s modulated voice replies flatly as he greets a jumping peach mare, or maybe she was originally white and her fur is just stained from all of the blood all over her, with his own forelegs. The pair strike at each other a few times with their forelegs as she keeps trying to stab him with the jagged improvised butcher knife she has in her jaws, and he tries to knock her away. But, after she lunges at him, stabbing into his coat with the knife, he leans with the strike, and tumbles with her.

But the number of bones that break and pop as he tumbles over her is so exceedingly disproportionate to the maneuver that Dandy realizes he must have temporarily turned off his weight implant again. She shakes her head to cast off the image of the mostly mangled mare, with the bones sticking out of her in various places, but somehow she’s still alive, and still trying to bite through one of Gearing’s forelegs even though a good portion of her jawbone has become exposed. After Gearing turns the mangled raider into just another corpse with a quick stomp to the head, Dandy’s finally able to ask, “What do you mean you can’t? You got wings, use them!”

“They’re busted and won’t support my weight. Damn machine gun’s pretty much turned them into a jigsaw puzzle. That’s why I had to throw you.” He looks up at her and grumbles as he says, “And I can’t make that jump from here. So you three go on. I’ll punch my way through and meet up with you elsewhere.” His head jerks to the side and his helmet sparks as a stop sign, with the edges crudely cut into saw teeth, smacks into him with a full swing from the metal pole that once held it aloft outside on some unknown Hoofington street. Gearing looks over at the mare assailing him with it and kicks up a hunk of ruble into her face as he screams back. “And these brain dead,” - he hops over closer to the mare with the stop sign weapon and uses his momentum to spin and buck her, knocking her into a pair of other raiders that were running up to join in on the fun with their own kitchen knives- “psychopathic,” - he grabs the sign that she’d dropped and swings it with a large arc right into a raider that’d come charging in from the left side door, opening up the buck’s neck and practically turning him into a sprinkler in the process as his head lolls unnaturally backwards and to the side now that the tissues aren’t holding it in place correctly- “monsters,” - he brings the stop sign saw down on top of another one, imbedding it in their skull and breaking the sign off of the pole in the process- “won’t give me long enough” - he uses the jagged broken sign pole and puts it through another’s eye socket as he screams, “to down a potion to do it!”

“I’ll come get you!” Swift says as she jumps over to the edge and gets ready to jump down towards him.

“Don’t!” Gearing yells as a couple Hoofington Police Department impersonators walk in firing various revolvers and mouth gripped pistols at Gearing. “If you get shot down, we’ll both get stuck down here!”

Swift and Dandy exchange frustrated and increasingly more angry glares at each other as Handy continues his cycle of emptying his weapon, only to reload it and do it again. After a few more unequine screams come from below, signaling another raider trying to gnaw off Gearing’s leg only to have Gearing step on their head for their troubles, Swift looks over the edge at Gearing and screams, “Gearing!”

“Just go already!” he screams back without even looking as he’s too busy wrestling with a pair of raiders.

“Do you trust me?” she yells as she stands up and starts tensing her muscles.

Gearing looks up at her as he jumps back from the two trying to pin him and avoids a particularly sharp spear charge at himself in the process from a third. They lock eyes and he nods as he says, “Enough, why?”

“Then fucking jump!” She extends out her PipBuck laden hoof towards him as she says, “I’ll catch you and pull you up, you can jump far enough for me to catch you. So just jump!”

Gearing groans and shakes his head. Even louder with a grunt as a spear pierces his left side, through the coat, and causes more green crystals to fall to the ground. He locks the spear to his side with his left foreleg, before spinning around and flicking the confused raider away from himself with the spear still sticking out of himself. Gearing pulls out the spear, and chucks it in the general direction of the raider that’d stabbed him, only to cause the mare to tumble and trip over it instead of doing any real damage, as he runs over towards Swift’s direction and up over the rubble pile again just like he’d done while carrying Dandy. He gets as close as he can on hoof before using some of the slightly taller rubble to jump up and off of. But, as he brings his wings out to flap and try to catch additional height, the rubbery material yields to the pressure of the air currents, instead of forcing them around, and he doesn’t get any real benefit from it.

But, as he’d taken to the air, and headed in her direction, Swift pulled out a surprise of her own, as she dropped down over the edge, and kicked off of the ceiling. She zips over at Gearing far faster than he is coming at her, and grabs his outstretched forehoof with both of hers as she starts passing him. But then she spins around and uses a similar maneuver that he’d just used on Dandy to spin him around and add her own momentum to his as she flicks him up towards the hole. Before she’s even made contact, Gearing’s lets out a disgruntled snort as he sees what she’s doing, despite his wishes. But it’s quickly replaced with wonder as his body is enveloped in an overglow.

A very familiar one at that.

As Swift is practically chucking Gearing with the form of a well practiced hammer throw, Dandy’s levitation field envelopes Gearing and not only helps to lighten him further, but helps pull and guide him up and through the hole blasted through between the first and second floors.

Although, with all of the combined umph Swift and Dandy had put into it, it was far more than necessary as he crashes into the ceiling that leads up to the third floor before smashing into, and through, the door that leads into the hallway as he tumbles off the added energy. Raining down small fragments of green glittering glass the whole way.

Swift follows him quickly, with a hail of bullets following her, as she yells, “Alright now, get a potion in your gut so we can get going!” She looks over at Handy and nods towards the hole as she says, “Keep knocking them down as much as you can. Hopefully the noise will keep drawing them into the kill zone long enough for us to really put a dent in their numbers.

Dandy helps Gearing into a seated position against the wall of the hallway as she asks, “How the hell we get that helmet off? You need to drink a potion already!”

Gearing shakes his head a bit then looks over at Swift as she’s walking up. He reaches up and starts undoing his helmet, and Dandy quickly catches on and starts helping him take it off with her own hooves and magic. As the faceplate is being pulled away, the red eyes dim and wink out as the power is cut to them and Gearing groans before he says, “Swift, you need a potion more, you’re bleeding!”

Swift rotates her shoulder to look at the outside of her upper left foreleg before she looks at Gearing and grins. “Hey, you’re not the only one that’s willing to take a bullet for a friend.” They stare at each other for a few moments, with Gearing looking truly dumbfounded for the first time since meeting each other. She reaches out the same leg that has the trail of blood running down to her hoof and asks, “So, no bullshit, how bad is it?”

Gearing groans then says with a frown as he looks down, “I literally lost count of how many times that armored bitch shot me. My implants are already working on it. So I’m not gonna die. But I’m not flying anytime soon without at least half of a decent potion. Either way, nothing permanent, and if I can get a few minutes of NOT getting shot, I’ll be fine again.” He uses a hoof and pulls back his trench coat to look at himself as he lets out an annoyed sigh. “I just got this thing together too, dammit…”

Dandy rummages in her saddle bag and quickly pulls out a pale potion. She pops the top and starts tilting it towards his mouth as she asks, “How about a whole one that’s half eaten up by enervation?”

“Better than nothing,” Gearing grumbles before he starts sucking down the potion. After he polishes off the rest of it, he looks at Dandy and asks, “Hey, wanna do me a favor?”

Dandy smirks as she’s stowing the empty bottle, “Another one? Wow you’re going to owe me a lot if you keep this up.” She giggles before she asks, “What’s up?”

Gearing slides a pair of metal apples to her from a metal container he’d had stored under him and protected from pretty much any angle except directly below him. “Here’s a couple parting gifts for those down below. Use them separately though, to help lure them in more.”

Dandy grins as she envelopes one with her levitation magic and summarily tosses it over the edge of the hole in the floor as she says, “You just love blowing shit up, don’t you?”

Handy sees the flying glowing metal apple and quickly shies away from the edge of the hole in the floor before the stem on the top pops off and the metal apple drops down below. A moment later the fragmentation grenade goes off with a blast that throws dust up onto their level. As more individuals are charging in, the second one is chucked into the media room’s left hallway by Dandy as she doesn’t even look. However, the grenade doesn’t quite make it and bounces off the wooden door frame instead. But the second blast is more than sufficient to send several of the raiders straight to Tartarus as others are heavily maimed in the process.

Gearing grins as he looks at Dandy and asks, “So… how much do I owe you?”

“Well, that depends…”

“On?”

“What Doc Bonesaw has to tell me about the situation.”

Gearing nods and throws himself forward back onto his hooves as he starts putting his helmet back on. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you the caps to cover it, don’t worry.”

“Well, depending on what he says, you’re going to owe me a lot more.”

Gearing rolls his head on his neck as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll get your caps.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in caps.”

Gearing’s head whips over to look at her, and the mischievous grin on her face just gets broader once they make eye contact.

“Yup. After all the stress and such you’ve put me through, you’re going to owe me big time depending on what he says…” She puts a hoof to her mouth and taps on her lips daintily a few times as she thinks about it for a second then shrugs and adds, “Nope, know what, either way, I know what I want, regardless of what he says.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before asking quietly, “What?”

“Well, if not, there’s no harm in some more, and if so, can’t get anymore than I already am… so…” She walks by and grins at him as she slaps his armored flank with a forehoof and gives him a coy sideways grin. “So I think I’d like some of Doctor Gearing’s patented medically induced coma therapy instead…” She grins even wider as her eyes partially close. “Regardless of what the results are…”

Handy slowly shakes his head as he glances over at Swift and mutters, “You were right… gets around a lot…”

Movement catches their attention as something is chucked up through the hole in their general direction. Dandy’s levitation field quickly chucks it right back down the hole, where the fragmentation explosive detonates a split second later and the blast is deadened by the stone floor as the group jumps away from the hole and the shrapnel that starts bouncing off the ceiling above them.

“If you’re gonna sit and talk about stupid shit can we at least do it somewhere else?! Maybe somewhere we’re not currently getting shot at by cannibals trying to catch us for dinner?!” Handy screams as he tumbles to a stop near the door that Gearing had crashed through.

Gearing nods as he turns and leads the way down the hallway and away from the frenzied screaming coming from the hole in the floor. “Yeah, let’s go, before they decide to pile up like ants and make a pony ladder up here…”

Dandy quickly follows along off to Gearing’s right side as she asks, “Gearing, are you sure you’re okay? You sound like someone’s grinding broken glass under their hoof.”

Gearing nods. “Yeah. If the sleeves can hold the pieces in place enough, some of them will even heal back in. If not they’ll simply get pushed out and away by the new growth.”

She keeps her eye trained on him as she trots along, mindlessly reloading and reholstering one pistol box after another as she adds, “Well, you know, that helmet has a shitty design flaw. If you can’t drink anything with it on, how are you supposed to take a potion? Or anything else? It seems like a really bad idea if you have to expose yourself just to try and heal yourself. Really counter intuitive even.” She purses her lips to the side as she mumbles her continued ramble, “You could get hurt more just trying to get treatment. Why would they do something so stupid?”

Gearing shakes his head and sighs through the respirator in a massive gush of modulated sounding air. “Because the face portion came from the helmet of a suit of power armor. Those things had their own systems to take care of healing and repair in most of them. It was all handled with spells and matrix systems. And I can’t duplicate that kind of work. So I’m stuck without it.”

“Well… it’s still a glaring problem…” She reaches over and taps on the side of his armored muzzle as she says, “So… just drill a hole and like, put in a straw or something. At least then you can drink a potion without having to take it off first.”

He turns his head to look at her and she says flatly, “What? A small hole won’t hurt. Too small for a bullet to enter anyway, even with an amazing shot.”

Gearing’s modulated voice chuckles before he says, “Damn… know what… maybe you are pregnant… the way you’re mother henning over me.”

Swift had been sipping on a healing potion as she followed behind, and quickly brings a wing up to her muzzle’s end as she coughs and spits out the dull colored healing potion the moment the quip escapes through the speakers of Gearing’s mask. But she managed to clamp her mouth shut, which only served to force some of the potion out through her nose as she comes to a halt and starts half coughing, and half laughing.

A flush explodes from Dandy’s cheeks and continues half way down her neck as she stares at him wide-eyed for a moment before yelling back, “Well whose fault is that, then!?”

Handy sits down next to Swift as she coughs and sputters while watching Gearing and Dandy continue down the hallway. He nods towards them and grins as he says, “Damn, sounds just like you about that, don’t she?” Then he scrunches down and closes his eyes tightly as he prepares for the inevitable bonk on the head from Swift for his remark.

Instead he’s surprised by a slightly damp smooch on his cheek.

When he looks at her with a raised eyebrow she bats her eyelashes at him before she says, “Oh, I’m still gonna kick your ass for that later, but now’s not the time… besides…” She gives him a wink before continuing on, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She tosses him the bottle to put back in his bag without even looking, causing him to quickly juggle with it to keep it from crashing onto the ground, as she casually walks away.

The group quickly bids a hasty retreat as they do their best to disappear among the maze of hallways in the giant building. Even going so far as to go up through the third floor and onto the fourth via the stairwell Handy and Gearing had used to get down to the second floor not long ago. The sounds of the commotion from the lower levels distorts as the various diseased ponies disperse and try to track them down, but keep up their rampant hooting and yelling the entire time regardless of not knowing where they are going out of pure excitement.

But with three of the four members of the party having the advantage of an active EFS playing across their vision, they easily avoid any areas they even think might hold a large collection of raiders.

As the group passes through an administrative wing, easily identifiable by the still shiny brass name plates on the walls and doors made of more glass than wood that did nothing to keep anyone out that actually wanted in bad enough, the sound of a metal chair skittering across a stone floor greets their ears. They all instinctively stop as they try to pinpoint where the noise came from as it’s quite obvious that they aren’t alone in this area.

Swift walks up next to Gearing and whispers, “Think you can get to the far side of all these doors and come at them from a different angle, or want me to try it?”

Dandy waves a hoof at Gearing as she looks at Swift and scowls. “His busted wings will give him away, it’d take some kind of phantom to get through this area with that without sounding like a herd trampling over broken glass…”

Gearing stoops down a bit and his trench coat starts hanging off him just a bit looser as he tightly pulls his wings into himself. He starts slowly walking, using only his legs and not letting his back bob or move in the process. After he gets a couple paces away, without a single crunch coming from him, he looks back at Dandy and comments in a rough raspy voice through the speakers, “Ghost reportin’.” Then he continues over to an office on the right with only a fragment of the ancient door still hanging from a hinge, scans the room slowly with a single rotation of his head, and disappears inside without another word.

“Okay… now he’s off that way, which way are we going to go?” Handy asks quietly as he looks over at Swift with a raised eyebrow.

Swift points a hoof at the large set of doors straight down at the very end of the hall. “How about straight up the middle?”

“You sure that’s really wise, I mean…?,” Dandy asks, then stops mid sentence.

Gearing creeps back out of the room he’d entered, and slowly walks across the hallway, right in front of them, at the same pace he’d entered the room on the right. He pauses mid stride, looks over at them one at a time, as all three have their undivided attention on him, and replies flatly, “Dead end after a collapsed wall.” Then he continues on across the hall where he slowly opens the door on the left, what’s left of it anyway, and creeps inside that way.

The other three slowly follow his movements by turning their head, completely silent, as they watch this strange turn of events.

Dandy asks as she keeps staring at the slightly ajar damaged door, “So… uh… do we just sit here and wait for him to stop coming back… or what?”

Swift giggles then holds up her right forehoof, blocking Dandy’s line of sight to the door Gearing had just entered through, before she says, “Nah. He’s fine. I guess he found something he can work with because I can see him getting further on my EFS this time.”

They continue down the administrative hallway, with their ears turning this way and that as various sounds come to them. Distant echoes of the chaos taking place on the lower levels. The trickling sound of a stream of water that’s hidden in a wall somewhere tattling on a broken pipe of some kind. The crackling sound of a low burning fire in a metal mesh waste basket turned fire pit that they pass.

Then there are the sounds that are drawing such caution from them. Muffled sounds of metal scraping on stone, glass breaking, and some kind of unidentifiable deeper toned ‘wumpf’ sound that they can’t quite place. All of it coming from further down the hall. And very close to them.

But as they are starting to spread out, with most of their focus on a hallway junction coming up where the sound seems to be coming down, a door just in front of them and on their left labeled Maintenance bursts open as a pair of mare’s come tumbling out kicking and screaming at each other.

The raspberry red mare, who was the second one through and appeared to have opened the door by tackling the green mare right through the door, tumbles past her and spits a bloody hunk off to the side before she screams, “I’mma kill you! I swore I would if I ever got ya alone!”

The green mare springs up with an energy that baffles the mind, considering how much she’s bleeding from various wounds all over her body, as she waves around a knife in front of herself with her levitation field. “Lawbreaker, lawbreaker, lawbreaker!” She slashes at the air in between them as she cackles. “Yer onea us! You joined. Protect and serve!” She hops side to side a few times as she looks the green mare over and giggles as she bites her own tongue while trying to lick her lips. “Yes, serve, serve, serve! Tasty. Crispy. Raw! I like raw! Yes! Protect and serve raw! Hehehe.”

The raspberry mare pounces at the green mare, straight on, as she screams, “You’re gonna pay!” When the knife comes in slashing at her throat, she twists around and flings her own foreleg in the way, causing the knife to sink in deep into her foreleg. Deeper than intended.

Too deep.

The raspberry mare collides with the green unicorn, hard, and ends up yanking the knife right out of their levitation field as it’s now stuck in her foreleg. They tumble across the hall towards another office door that’d already been kicked open. The raspberry mare disappears into the room from Swift’s group’s perspective, as the green unicorn comes to a sliding halt right at the threshold.

But as the unicorn is picking herself back up, a stone white stallion’s head comes slamming down on the green mare from out of the office.

The green mare lets out a squeal and a screech as the bust of some important officer’s muzzle comes down at the right angle, and breaks the mare’s horn right off her head. Pinning the precious protrusion under the carved stone’s weight. She flails backwards, holding onto her head as even more blood gushes down her face and sends tainted blood in nearly every conceivable direction.

Dandy backs up and sympathetically winces as she watches the devastation take place on what she knows very well is an exceedingly sensitive addition to her anatomy.

“I fucking hate unicorns!” the raspberry red mare screeches as she jumps through the doorway, tackles the green mare, and pins her to the ground. All while the hornless unicorn can do little more than hold her head and scream.

And the raspberry mare makes sure the nulla-horn has plenty to scream about as she gets to work on her with her own knife, having pulled it out of her foreleg with her teeth. She uses her slight weight, and considerable positioning advantage, to stab and slash at the unicorn mare as she sits on her stomach and holds the green mare’s body and limbs down with her own forelegs.

And, either in a moment of clarity, or a fit of even further madness, the green mare entirely abandons any worry about her own body, and chomps down on one of the raspberry mare’s forelegs as she holds her down.

The raspberry mare grunts at the added pain, but takes the opportunity to plunge the knife into the other mare’s eye socket, now that the green mare’s too busy trying to eat her to try and dodge it any more.

After shaking her head like a dog casting off a Hoofington downpour from its coat, with the knife both still in her jaws and the green mare’s skull, the green mare finally goes still as the side of her face rips away with a splash of flesh and blood.

A rough, but forced, cough echoes down the hallway, drawing the raspberry mare’s attention to finally look up from the corpse of her conquest.

Handy has his pneumatic hammer at the ready, casually holding it to the side, but obviously ready to swing at any moment, as Dandy has turned sideways, and brought out a dozen of her pistol boxes, all of which are aimed at the bloody mare.

Swift lowers her forehoof from her mouth before she asks with a smile, “Sorry for interrupting… but… may I ask why you two were fighting? Or was dinner too fast for you to catch tonight?”

The blood soaked mare takes a couple steps back, as her eyes jump from one of them to the next as she seems to either prepare to fight defensively, or turn and bolt.

“You got her, Gearing?” Swift asks with a smile.

“Call the shot,” Gearing’s modulated voice comes from an office just on the other side of the hallway junction.

Both the raspberry mare, and Dandy’s focus jump over to the doorway where Gearing steps out into the hall, with his large revolver pointed at the bloody mare. The mare backs up toward the office where she’d tumbled into recently as she looks back and forth between the three in front of her, and the one behind her, and tries to figure out from which direction the biggest threat is. Stressingly, to her, and understandably given the size of the revolver Gearing is toting, she seems to not be able to answer that on her own.

Dandy leans sideways and asks softly, “Soooo is there a reason no one’s shot this bitch yet?” She sees the scowl on the mare’s face and gives her one of her own in return as she says, “Don’t get me wrong, you try that shit with me, and I’ll put so much lead in you you won’t be able to move from the weight… But they haven’t yet, so there must be a reason…”

“She’s yellow,” Gearing’s grumbling voice breaks through the temporary silence again.

“Meanniiiing?” Dandy asks as she looks between the three quickly. “Anypony care to explain to us poor souls that don’t currently have over powered ancient technology at their disposal?”

Swift snickers as she spares her a sideways look, “It means she doesn’t actually want to fight or harm us…”

“Means she’s not actively hostile,” Gearing adds.

“Which means…” Handy starts. Then he holsters his pneumatic hammer on his back, and pointedly sits down. “We may be able to talk with her, and avoid any kind of confrontation.”

“I think we’re already at the point of confrontation,” the raspberry mare quips as she dribbles blood down her mouth with her eyes constantly quickly darting around.

“Tell ya what, how about you tell us where Lodestar and his caravan is, and we’ll just be on our way,” Dandy adds with a wide smile. She waves a hoof around dismissively as she says nonchalantly, “And then you can go back to whatever it is you were doing, and we’ll go about our own business, and I won’t have to waste ammo on someone who already looks like they’re going to drop at any second… so… how about it?” The two stare at each other for a moment, before Dandy says in a nearly whining voice, “Awww come on! Ammo’s expensive, it cuts into my bottom line! Help a mare out here! Help me. Help you. I just wanna get out of here already.”

A few seconds longer and the mare asks with her head tilted slightly as if she’s trying to hear something from far away. “You… you’re here for Lodestar?”

Handy nods before he says, “Yup. And we’ll get out of your way afterwards. We’re here for Lodestar and his caravan. Do you know them?”

The raspberry mare nods as she looks over slowly at Handy.

After a few more moments of silence Handy waves for her to continue. “Would you please show us then?”

“Who sent you?”

“Happy Trails contracted us to find out what happened, and bring back any survivors if we could,” Dandy replies as she arcs a brow at the strange behavior.

“Happy Trails?”

“Yeah, she owns the caravan company. She’s friends with Lodestar and is worried about him.”

“I know Happy Trails,” the mare adds flatly.

“Where are all of Lodestar’s group?” Swift asks as she casually scrapes off bloody bits of fur from her powerhoof on a nearby brick.

“Me,” the mare replies quickly.

“Yes, I’m asking you, who else?” Swift asks annoyed as she directs a narrow eyed stare at the mare.

“No.”

“Yes, you,” Swift replies with a snort.

“No, no. Me, me,” the mare replies.

“What the hell?” Swift asks with a raised eyebrow.

Dandy frowns and says softly, “She’s not playing with a full deck, Swift… forget where we are?”

The raspberry mare casually looks from one to the other expectantly but adds nothing.

“Where’s the rest of Lodestar’s crew?” Handy asks as Swift continuously sizes up the mentally unstable raspberry mare.

“Me,” she repeats flatly.

“Yes, he’s asking you,” Swift snorts with quickly angering disgust.

Handy frowns as he looks at Swift sideways, and then asks, “Well, can you show us where Lodestar is?”

“If you do something for me, yes,” the raspberry mare replies quickly.

“Oh great, just a small favor for a mental cannibal huh?” Swift grumbles as she slaps a hoof over her own eyes.

Handy says quietly towards Swift, “Let’s at least hear her out…” to the dismissive hoof wave he gets from Swift he asks the raspberry mare, “Tell us what the condition is first.”

“Save Lodestar,” she snaps while staring Handy in the eyes. “Lodestar’s hurt. You promise to save him. I’ll take you to him.”

“But why would you-,” Dandy starts, but then her narrowed eyes jump wide in a moment of clarity before she asks with a gasp, “Wait, were you with Happy Trails Caravans? Are you one of Lodestar’s, caravanners?”

The raspberry mare looks over at her and nods a few times. “Yes.”

Dandy scowls as she asks, “Is that how they got him? You turn on them? Why didn’t you save him yourself?”

“Can’t. I’m not enough,” she replies simply. She looks over between Handy and Swift and asks, “You help Lodestar now?”

Handy trots over quickly as he’s pulling out a potion. “Yes. We’ll help Lodestar. We’re here to help you all.”

The mare looks at the dull potion bottle and shakes her head lightly, causing her ratty bloody mane to slap against her shoulders sickeningly. “Can’t help me. Lodestar needs help. Save for him.”

Gearing walks up as he grumbles, “We need you to show us the way. You’re bleeding heavily. If you die on us, we might not find him in time. If you want us to help Lodestar, drink the potion, and let’s go.”

The mare’s head whips to look over her shoulder at Gearing. Her eyes dart around his armored body, even as damaged as it is, before she nods as she turns her head around. She snags the bottle from Handy, throws her head back, downing the entire thing, then spits the empty bottle off to the side. “Okay. Go now?”

Gearing steps to the side and motions towards her, then both forward and back towards the hallway junction as he says, “Lead the way. We’ll back you up.”

The mare nods rapidly as she turns and walks right by him. “Good. This way.”

The rest fall in line and quickly start picking up pace as the mare, potion or no, is still pretty badly injured. But, at least for now, most of the bleeding has stopped and her foreleg is no longer gushing blood. Even so, she’s making incredible time as she zips through the halls, and abruptly turns into another Maintenance marked door.

As they are following her into a maintenance tunnel that has stairs down, Gearing asks, “Where are they holding him? The jell cells?”

“No. Cells for others. Other stuff. Lodestar in very tippy toppy back… wait… no… deep deep back…”

“Motor pool?” Gearing ventures a guess.

She nods her head out of sync with her steps down the stairwell giving her an odd appearance of a furry oversized mutant chicken as she says, “Yes. Wagon park. Many wagons still. Storage. Big things.” She takes a turn into a narrow hoof path flanked with various hissing pipes as she says, “Lodestar locked in judgment cage.”

“Judgment cage?” Handy asks.

“Why aren’t you in there with him?” Swift asks a split second later.

“You escape?” Dandy follows up.

“Judgment cage. Go in until you proven innocent. I survived trial. I made it out. They let me out. Made me join them.”

“Where’s everyone else of your caravan?” Handy asks and, like a binding spell, the raspberry mare stops in place.

“Gone…”

“What do you-“ Handy starts, but then takes several steps back as the mare whirls on him.

“They make us fight! Trial by right. Winner is right. Winner is innocent. Fight, innocent, live. Fight, guilty, die. Die, guilty. Live, innocent.” She hangs her head and shivers as she says, “Made me do bad things… did bad things to me… or I wouldn’t live…”

Gearing walks by and asks without actually looking at her, “They made you fight to the death, to join them, or they’d just kill you anyway?”

The mare glances at him sideways for a moment, and then hangs her head, hiding her eyes behind her bloody mane, before she nods a few times weakly.

“They… they made her kill her friends?” Dandy asks as she looks between Gearing, Swift, and Handy, vainly hoping that she’d misunderstood something. Instead the question is answered, and validated, by a sobbing choke from the raspberry mare before she nods a couple times again.

“Why’s Lodestar still alive then?” Swift asks as she looks over at the raspberry mare. “If he’s hurt, and lost the fight, why isn’t he dead like the rest?” Dandy shoots her a dirty look for the insensitivity of the question, but Swift gives no indication if she even noticed it.

“Fresh…” she chokes again before she looks up at Swift. “Keeping him fresh, kill too soon and just rot. So they are keeping them. Lodestar and the other one… Lodestar’s next though…”

“Oh that’s just sick…” Dandy says as her cheeks take on a greenish hue.

Swift urges them to continue as she says, “Well, let’s go make sure that we cancel the dinner party…”

The raspberry mare nods and turns, quickly leading the way through the maintenance access tunnels through the deeper portions.

“What’s your name?” Dandy asks as the group quickly trots along behind their new companion.

“Melon Patch,” the raspberry red mare replies.

A large commotion causes all of their ears to perk up, and Melon shushes at the others with one bloody hoof to her lips before pointing to an air vent in the wall near the ceiling. Through the grate they can clearly hear hoofs stampeding one direction or another as many voices cry out for blood and violence as they continue their search for the intruders.

After they get further down the tunnels, and the sounds coming from the vents aren’t nearly as easily distinguishable, Dandy asks quietly, “How do you know all these side ways to avoid all of the others?”

“Horned bitch dragged me in here. Chased me around. I was one of them, but also new. So she had her fun where nopony could see...” Melon replies with a snarl.

“Well, at least she got hers, right?” Handy asks with a weak smile.

“Not soon enough,” Melon quips.

A break in an air duct releases the sounds of many hooves running as the group passes it and, like last time, they stay quiet until they are well past it. Then Dandy asks while looking back at it, “You know… I wonder if that’s what we stumbled across… this ‘Trial’ that Melon’s talking about.”

“Would explain why there were so many in that one courtroom, yeah,” Swift agrees with an added nod of her head.

Melon turns her head back to look at them as she says, “Courtroom? Yes. Trial in courtroom. Courtroom to prove who’s innocent. Who’s right. Only prove who’s still alive.”

“Like war…” Gearing mutters absentmindedly as they keep taking random turns through the tunnels.

Dandy looks over at him and asks softly, “Are you okay, Gearing?”

Gearing nods and takes the turn to the right with Melon, before yelling, “Halt!”

The group comes to a stop, and Melon looks back at him. “Halt? Why Halt? Why stop?”

Gearing points ahead at the cloud of white in front of them.

Melon looks at it, then back at him and nods as she says, “Yes. Steam. Steam hurt. Just run. Hurt less.”

“I got a better idea…” Swift says with a smirk. She looks over at Gearing and nods her chin up the way towards the steam. “Feel like patching that up enough for us to get by?”

“Hey, I could fix it too!” Handy says defensively as he stares at Swift horrified that she’d ask someone else first.

“You’d just cook in your armor, Handy,” Swift says with a frown.

Dandy looks over at Swift and narrows her eyes as she says quietly, “Just because it can’t cook him, doesn’t mean it won’t hurt him… Remember?”

Gearing pays no attention to the bickering going on between the three as he trots right up and into the cloud of steam. “Yeah. I got it.” After disappearing into the cloud of steam, a few moments later the cloud starts dissipating. “Okay, hurry up, would ya?” Gearing’s modulated voice echoes out of the cloud.

The group continues on, and quickly starts passing Gearing. The heat of the area is still oppressively high, with their fur quickly gathering unpleasant levels of moisture in it, but not painfully so. But as they are passing Gearing, they each look over and see as Gearing has reared up, and used the edge of his trench coat to stop the steam from getting through using the tip of his wing.

Dandy pauses next to him just long enough to ask, “How are your wings doing now?”

“Better… Almost as good as new, now get out of here before any more of this pipe ruptures and you end up with a permanent painful full body blush.”

Dandy bids a hasty retreat, nodding in agreement absentmindedly as she quickly catches up with the others. After they’ve gotten a considerable distance up the tunnel, the area behind them fills with white smoky steam again as Gearing releases his improvised plug. As he’s walking out, his red glowing eyes are the first thing that they can see as he’s turned on his helmet again. He looks them over then waves ahead as he asks, “Shall we?”

“How’s your wing?” Dandy asks as she looks over at his trench coat where there’s a large wet spot on it.

“Fine, I just told you that,” Gearing replies with an annoyed sigh.

“No, I mean, you just stopped up the steam with your wing, which was already hurt pretty badly, didn’t burn yourself again, did you?” Dandy asks with a raised eyebrow, but, in the act darts her eyes over to Swift and Handy to see if they’re paying attention.

Which they are.

“Oh… No, thanks. It was definitely uncomfortable, but hadn’t reached that hot yet.” There’s a delay before he says with an impressed tone, “Thanks for checking though. Appreciate it.”

“Any time, partner,” Dandy says with a grin and, at the same time, puffing up just a bit out of pride and self pleasure.

Swift and Handy exchange glances, with Swift’s eyebrow arced. Through their unspoken communication Handy frowns lightly, and bobs his head around as he nods in agreement before the pair turns and continues following Melon.

Melon waves them to stop as she gets to a door. Causing the small precession to come to a halt as they try to figure out what is coming next. Melon throws the door open quickly and steps out. With not even an attempt at stealth. And from their position further in the tunnel they can see her step out into a hallway with lighting strips running along the walls. Lighting strips that blink annoyingly but still function well enough to provide suitable light.

She walks in a circle a couple times, right in the middle of the hallway, before she hops back to the door and beckons them to follow her. As they are coming out of the narrow maintenance access tunnel, she says quietly, “This way. Lodestar this way. Follow. Stay quiet. Stay back. I’ll find out how many are guarding the judgment cage.”

She turns and starts leading the way up the stone hallway littered with various debris and refuse. She doesn’t get very far before Swift’s hoof catches her shoulder, and stops her walking as she hovers above. Melon’s focus zips to the side, looking at her shoulder, then looks up at Swift with a startled wide-eyed look. Swift waves her PipBuck laden foreleg in her face and grins as she says, “That won’t be necessary… You just let us know which room, and we’ll take care of it.”

Melon nods, and then leads the way again, but this time at a casual trot.

Not far away a set of double doors come into view along the right side of the wall. A set of metal double doors smeared with various filth, and that has trails of bloody drag marks leading both to it and from in it in various directions. Marks that fan out from the door like the tail of a peacock made of blood.

Melon points at the door and whispers back to the others, “Here. Lodestar here.”

Gearing walks up and looks around the door frame. His eyes settle on some old blue paint set upon the stone wall. He uses a hoof to wipe off some of the filth splattered across it and reveals a bit more of the text underneath. “Yeah. This is the motor pool and equipment maintenance. We’re on the back side of the building, lower level.”

“I say so already,” Melon comments as she looks at him with a hurt scowl across her face.

Swift glances at the door, then through it, as she comments, “There’s not nearly as many red markers here as there were in other areas.”

“Might be hiding,” Dandy offers.

“Can’t hide from EFS without some sort of cloaking device… StealthBucks don’t last long enough to stay permanently invisible and you’re not going to find zebra cloaks in a pony police headquarters’ armory,” Gearing comments as he keeps looking at the door. “So I’m not worried about that.”

“Well let’s get this over with so we can hurry up and get home,” Swift says as she flutters over to the door, and pushes them both open quickly with her forehooves.

Instantly a damp rank reek pours out of the chamber beyond. Carrying on the foul air, various voices chatter mindlessly.

“Guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty!”

As a couple of the voices giggle in between their mindless chanting, Swift gags and turns her muzzle away from the disgusting flow of air. She looks down at Gearing and asks sheepishly, “After you?” Gearing nods and heads inside slowly. But Swift is shocked when Dandy starts quickly following him in. “Doesn’t this bother you? It smells like someone shat themselves, ate it, then shat it out again.”

Dandy points up to her muzzle where she’s wearing her kerchief like a facemask again, “Not with this. I’m good.” She lets her horn flash ever so slightly, and the smile showing up on her eyes just gets even bigger when Swift’s look of shock turns to blatant indignation and jealousy.

Swift looks over at Handy and whispers with her eyes watering, “This is bullshit… we need a unicorn for our group… Like… a pocket unicorn. That can cast spells for us when we need. Healing and shit.” She points a hoof at Dandy, “She’s small, think she’ll fit in your pocket?”

Dandy starts walking with an exaggerated strut as she says, “Ya couldn’t afford me…”

The rampant noise from the inside makes them not worry so much about giving their own position away as they are sneaking up on whoever is inside of the motor pool. Given it’s hard to hear anything with all of the clattering, stomping, and rampant gibberish pouring out of the current occupants.

At the end of a very short hallway, with double doors on both ends, the group finally gets a view into the motor pool area. Large pillars are set up at regular intervals that not only help hold up the ceiling, but the above floors as well. Most of the motor pool is dark and unlit, with the majority of the overhead lights being broken or nonfunctional for a long time by the looks of them. But, from what the group can see, in the back right corner is a set of metal bars that have been formed into cages, with various wires, chains, and other hardware used to secure it. A few fifty-five gallon drums have been converted to tall fire pits, for either additional light in some areas, or snack preparation, it’s impossible to tell. Several wagons, with the Hoofington Police Department logo still emblazing the sides, sit lonely and forgotten all over. Including a pair still resting in the air on wagon hoists where they were in the middle of maintenance when the war came to its destructive end.

The motor pool, despite what they had mentally pictured when they were heading in, isn’t as small and cramped as one would believe. In fact, the roof actually is nearly two stories up from the floor. Which not only helps give them room for lifting the vehicles in the air to work on them, but gives places for the large equipment hoists to have their support structures and gantries. Gantries obviously strong enough to lift and hold any of the vehicles brought in, and for long extended periods of time at that.

Even in the dim light, it’s not hard to make out the skipping shapes of the raiders who seem to be in some sort of conversation that only they can really understand. Or, maybe even they can’t, and their madness simply makes them play along with the act. But the one thing their mindless jabbering has done, is give Swift and company a great bead on their locations. Along with keeping them too busy talking about ‘Guilty ponies’ to notice the group lurking in the doorway.

But, just to be safe, Swift closes the second set of double doors, and instantly muffles the noises coming from the large chamber beyond.

Swift looks over at the group as a whole and comments, “Okay, there’s like five or six in there. Let’s get into position, and take them out as quickly as we can. So they don’t get the bright idea to try and kill Lodestar before we can rescue him and we can get out of this stink faster. So we’ll go left.” She points at Dandy and herself. “Handy, go right and use the tool chests as cover.” She points off to the right side and upwards. “Gearing, think you can get over there? By the pillar? There’s two of these bastards that we won’t have line of sight on. And if we do this right, we can take them all out in one volley.” Gearing nods, so Swift continues, “Once the shooting starts I’ll zip in and keep them away from the cages.”

“Sure thing, Cross, no problem,” Gearing grumbles as he keeps his eyes on the door, and attention on the movements of the red indicators beyond the door.

“What?” Swift asks as she was about to say something to Handy, but is thrown off.

“What?” Gearing asks as he looks over at her.

“You… good to go?” Swift asks with a raised eyebrow.

Gearing nods as he starts towards the door, leaving them with a raspy modulated reply in his wake, “I’m gone.”

They watch him enter the door and quickly turn to the right as the door is closing itself again. After a few more seconds Swift comments, “Oooookay… that was weird…”

“Ya think?” Dandy asks as she raises an eyebrow in Swift’s direction.

“What about me?” Melon asks as she looks between the other three.

Swift looks at her, then grins as she asks, “Well, if you can distract them for a moment, so they hold still long enough for us to shoot them, that’d be helpful.”

Melon gives her a wide, joyful smile, that comes across rather creepily before she nods, “Yes. I can do. Yes!” Then she hops and skips out through the double doors before anyone else can say anything.

“Shit!” Swift blurts out as she slaps a hoof over her eyes. “Okay, let’s hurry up and get into position, I wanted her to do that after we were set, but, no choice now.”

The three quickly slip into the motor pool and fan out as planned while Melon happily trots and skips along to a beat that only she can hear.

From Swift’s position near a Hoofington P.D. wagon wreck, she watches Melon walk directly towards the cages.

Not long after, the inane gabbering picks up to a feverish pace before one screams, “My watch! Snack time later! Go away!”

Melon hops around and starts bounding circles around a burning 55 gallon drum as she says, “Judgy say guilty guilty ponies in house! Guilty ponies smash Courtroom, Judgy say they guilty!”

One of the other mares runs over, grinning and drooling as she asks, “Guilty? Guilty? GUILTY?! Where are they?! Are they coming? Huh, huh, huh?”

“More guilty to watch?” another asks as they trot over to look at Melon. Then sits down and starts biting on their hooves as they giggle. “More guilty snacks, guilty pleasures? Tasty tasty?”

Melon continues to frolic around the burning fire barrel with a wide smile plastered on her face like a madmare. “Yup, yup, yup! Judgy say more coming!”

A buck with many bite marks all over him, even through his dirty HPD uniform, walks closer to them on shaky legs as he asks, “We eat?” He points a hoof towards the makeshift cages beyond and asks in a tone that gets drowned out by his own giggling, “Eat that one? Eat that one now, huh, huh, huha, hahahaha?”

“Soon, soon!” Melon promises.

The bucks rears up onto his twitchy hind legs, and starts gnawing on his foreleg as he drools, “Buh ahm ungreh NAOW!”

The large motor pool chamber echoes out with simultaneous weapons fire from multiple directions. But most of them are drowned out by one particularly unique sounding blast like a mini explosion.

The two mares that were talking with Melon go down with bullet wounds to the chest and head, and the buck catches a round that seemed too big for his head as a large portion of it explodes into chunky bits. Another shot from the same large caliber weapon causes another red indicator to disappear from their collective visions.

Melon keeps bouncing around the fire barrel as bullets fly by her and her ‘comrades’ are gunned down in short order. She giggles and starts hopping around on her hind legs as she says, “This is fun!”

Handy stands up fully from where he’d been hiding and looks up and to the side as he holds a hoof to his ear. He puts his Proditor’s Gladius back into its holster before he says, “Hey, Gearing, you gotta use that damn thing in this enclosed space? Going to make me deaf… also, how the hell did you even get up there without flying?!”

Gearing tumbles over the side of the gantry from above, holding himself up by his forehooves and dangling from it for a moment before dropping down to the floor. He looks at Handy and says flatly, “I climbed.”

Dandy and Swift step out of their hiding places on the left side, with Swift zipping over towards the cages past Melon.

Dandy looks at Swift, and then over at Gearing, and asks, “Why’s a pegasus even bother with climbing when you have wings?” She points at Swift who simply shrugs in agreement.

Handy walks over towards Gearing, stepping around the workbenches and tool chests, as he says, “You know, I’ve been meaning to say, for a pegasus, you do some weird-“ He stops mid sentence as a metallic snapping sound catches his ear, and he hears something, several somethings, fall and clatter to the ground.

“Grenade!” Gearing screams.

The next moment Handy is sailing through the air as Gearing had punted Handy with a double hind hoofed applebuck style kick right to his armored plating. As Handy is sailing through the air, and being reminded why he really hates flying, a loud metallic clang and clatter echoes through the chamber as many bits of metal and miscellaneous tools scatter across the stone floor.

But that noise is drowned out by the not so soft wumpfs and pops of fragmentation grenades that reverberate and echo throughout the motor pool chamber. The noise echoes for long after the blast as pieces of metal rain down on everyone and everything.

Handy hits one of the police wagons, on the top edge which causes him to flip end over end across it and to the other side as bits of metal rain down to pelt him and the wagon equally.

“Handy!” Swift screams as she changes direction and zips back over to him as he’s crumpled in a heap on the other side of the skywagon.

Melon lowers herself to the ground and looks back at her left haunch, where a screwdriver is sticking out of her rear, and says flatly, “Not fun no more.” Then grabs the screwdriver with her teeth and pulls it out of herself.

Swift practically lands on Handy as she turns him over so he’s not laying on his head anymore. “Handy! Come on, wake up, say something!”

“My fucking head!” Handy groans as he holds his head with both of his forehooves.

Swift chokes and smiles as she starts nuzzling him, “That’ll work…” She gives him a kiss on the cheek before she says with a half giggle, half choke, “You should be fine, it was just your head.”

“What the fuck hit me and why does my chest feel like a Ursa Major just sat on it?!” Handy groans as Swift holds him up against the side of the police wagon.

Swift looks to the side and sees a pair of easily identifiable scuff marks on the front of Handy’s chest armor. “Gearing kicked you away from the blast.”

“But where’s Gearing?!” Dandy asks as she jumps on top of the wagon they are huddled by and looks over at the center of the blast area.

“I’m here,” replies a grumbling modulated voice from the dark.

A large scraping sound accompanies the whine of metal grinding against each other as one of the large upright tool chests starts lifting up off the ground. As Dandy runs over to the moving equipment, the tool chest tilts, and gets knocked to the side as Gearing stands up and out of the debris. The lenses of his helmet glow a menacing red, with the right one flickering every so often and somehow adding to the affect. As if it was just as angry as he was about getting blown up.

Dandy hops onto the tool chest that’d just been tossed to the side as she looks at him and asks, “Are you okay?” He turns to look at her and she rolls her eyes as she says, “I mean considering… are you okay? Do you need a potion?”

Gearing starts moving his limbs around as he says, “Yeah. I’m good. The tool chest took most of it.” He looks up at her and snorts, “It was just a few fragmentation apples anyway. Nothing serious.”

Dandy sits down on the tool chest and partially closes her eyes as she grins at him. “Only you’d think a couple fragmentation grenades are no big deal.” She looks him over again. “Still going to be all in love with explosives now?”

“Yup. Still love the way they work… except when used on me at least.” Gearing quips. To the snort his comment draws from her he adds, “Hey, at least it wasn’t a couple of those green banded bastards…”

“What about them?”

“Those magic grenades can turn your flesh to green glowing goo and melt it right off your body… So, yeah, I’ll take a fragmentation grenade over one of those sludging me any day.” He reaches over and taps her on the end of her nose with a forehoof as he says, “Shit can always get worse, remember that.”

“Shit just got worse!” Handy screams as the sound of an auto shotgun echoes throughout the artificial cavern.

They scatter as an armored pony with dual auto shotguns equipped to a battle saddle trots in through the double doors, drawn by the noise and blasts, and, in typical mad raider fashion, simply starts peppering the entire area in the hope of getting somepony.

But, obviously based on their indiscriminate fire, not caring who that somepony might be at the same time.

Gearing grabs Dandy and yanks her over the toolbox, crouching down over her as the large ball bearing sized pellets plinks off the thick metal of the tool chest.

Dandy giggles as she looks up at Gearing, “You know, we really should stop meeting like this.” She bats her eyes before she asks, “Or do you just like mounting me like this?”

Gearing chuckles through his respirator before he says, “Hey, don’t get fresh.”

“Maybe later”, she quips with a wink.

They roll to the side and watch as Swift zips through the air trying to dodge the flying large pellets being hurled at her, as Handy keeps pouring on the lead of his own from his Proditor’s Gladius. But, seemingly, having little to no effect against the thick armor she’s wearing.

Gearing pulls out some new cartridges from his jacket and holds them up with a hoof as he pops open the revolvers cylinder. “Dandy. Quick reload. Please and thank you.”

Dandy looks at him, and then the rounds, and grins as her horn glows, quickly all of the brass pops out of the cylinder and then gets replaced with new rounds in quick succession. Afterwards it clicks closed and Dandy nods as she says, “You’re good to go!”

“Not really, this is my last five rounds!” Gearing groans as he hops over the tool chest and charges at the armored mare.

When he’s a couple strides away, Gearing starts firing, biting deeply into the armored mare’s body. After the fourth shot, a plate gets blown away on her shoulder, revealing the matted bloody disgusting hide underneath. And a disheartening sight.

As the wound starts closing before his very eyes.

“I don’t have the ammo for this shit!” Gearing screams as he tumbles past her, and kicks her hind legs out from under her, causing the ranting mare to start spraying the ceiling with the spheres of death.

“I got an idea!” Dandy screams as she pulls out her pistol boxes. “Get out of there!” Gearing looks over at her, but does as instructed, quickly running away and jumping behind the safety of a police wagon as metal spheres eat into his back side the whole way.

After he’s gotten over the wagon, Dandy grabs a side mirror that’d fallen off one of the wagons and hides behind one of the maintenance gantries. She peeks around the corner, and starts shooting at the armored mare with pinpoint accuracy. And all of her shots hit the mark. But, despite the accuracy, they cause no actual damage. They don’t even scrape the metal.

But what all of those shots to the exact same spot on the side of the mare’s head do accomplish, is getting her attention, and pissing her off. The armored mare turns towards Dandy and starts peppering the gantry as she’s walking towards Dandy growling through the riot face shield and mask the entire time. But she has her head tilted and down, so even shots aimed at her face only really plink off the thick metal armor.

“I hate this cheating armor bullshit!” Dandy screams as she hides behind the steel frame of the gantry and keeps shooting at the armored mare using the mirror to aim. But, quickly, she ends up having to pick up fragments to use instead as shotgun pellets have torn the original mirror to pieces.

As the armored mare is walking around the gantry to get a better angle at the pest that’s giving her such a headache, Dandy screams out, “Gearing! Gravity assist!”

Once Gearing had stopped being the focus of the mare, and knew it, he started trying to reposition himself for a better plan of attack. He knows he only has one more round left, so he has to make it count. And the only weapon that Handy has that can do any real significant damage is his hammer, but he needs to get close to use it. Just as he’s planning on tackling the mare, and holding her down for Handy to work her over with his pneumatic sledge, Dandy screams out and draws his attention. Gearing quickly looks around, then up, and her plan becomes crystal clear to him.

Gearing takes flight, and heads straight up for the ceiling. Then skirts the roof until he’s over the gantry. And, at the moment he has it lined up properly, he zips back down towards the police wagon held up for maintenance, but had come off kilter as one of the support arms had slipped off or fell away. But, regardless of why it’s set like that, the vehicle is being held up precariously on only three points, and it wouldn’t take much to knock it off.

So Gearing crashing into it from above, after turning off his Gravity Assistance implant, was overkill in terms of what was needed to break the equilibrium holding it in place.

The noise draws everyone’s attention, even the armored mare’s as the metal crunches and creaks, from the impact. Even more so as it scrapes and falls off of the gantry straight downwards.

The mare turns and tries to jump to the side, but learns the fatal flaw with wearing too much heavy armor.

It hampers speed and mobility without some serious enchantments on it.

The police wagon performs one last act of public service for the greater good, as it crashes onto the armored mare, and smashes her straight into the stone floor. The splat of blood that shoots out around it gives the impression of a dropped can of paint as the added weight and force was enough to turn her into practical pony tomato paste.

Dandy asks as she walks back up to the gantry, “Did that get her?”

Gearing extracts himself from the wagon, pushing and bending a few thin sheets of metal out of place as he climbs back out and frees himself. He looks down at the ground and says flatly, “Markers gone. She’s not getting back up after that.”

Dandy sits down and groans, “Good… because I’m short three pistol boxes, and down to my last dozen rounds.” She looks at Gearing and frowns harder. “Ten… to be precise… exactly… Ten…” She tilts her head as she asks, “I thought you were having trouble flying? Wings back to normal now?”

Gearing chuckles then shakes his head. “What, that? That wasn’t flying, that was… falling… with style!” After Dandy slows giggling at the absurdity of it, Gearing asks, “Got a healing potion?”

“Why, need one?” Dandy asks as she starts rummaging through her bag.

Gearing points at her and shakes his head. “No, but you do, some of those pellets got you.”

Dandy looks over and sees where several red holes are appearing in her white long coat. “That bitch! This thing is a pain in the ass to mend!”

Gearing shakes his head and looks over to Swift and Handy. “How are you two holding up?”

Handy looks up from his PipBuck and frowns. As he’s letting out a sigh he says softly, “We’re out of most of our supplies. I don’t see how we’re going to get back out of here if it took all of this just to get here.”

Swift lands next to him and smiles sheepishly as she says, “Maybe that’s the last of the stupid armored mares?”

Melon climbs out of the back of a police wagon and shakes her head. “No. Judgy has more. Many more.”

Gearing looks over at her and his shoulders visibly sag as he asks, “They got into the armory, didn’t they?”

Melon looks over at him for a moment before nodding a single solitary time.

Handy looks over at Swift and asks, “What are we gonna do?”

Gearing walks by them and comments before Swift gets a chance to, “Get Lodestar. Check on him. I’m going to see about securing us an exit.”

After he’s a few dozen paces away Handy screams after him, “If you’re going to blow shit up, warn us first, okay!?” Getting no answer he adds, “So I can at least get my ears covered this time!”

Melon runs over to the metal cages and says quickly, “Lodestar… Lodestar! Wake up. Time to go!”

As the others walk up to her she turns to Swift and asks, “He die?”

Swift shakes her head as she says, “No. He’s still showing up on my EFS, so he’s not dead yet.”

“Doesn’t look far from it,” Dandy comments grimly.

Melon runs around checking the corpses of the dead ponies before coming back with a key. She unlocks the padlock on the chain holding the door closed and quickly pulls it off. “Come. We go!”

Dandy walks in and kneels down next to the battered buck. She takes in the various bruises and at least one unnatural nub in the middle of a leg signaling the broken bone underneath. She checks his hooves, where both the front and back legs have pairs of hoofcuffs, and the pairs are connected to the bars keeping him on his side by additional locks. Melon walks over and uses the key on the locks keeping his hoofcuffs to the cage bars, letting his legs finally sag down the rest of the way to the floor, before stepping back.

Handy looks at her then nods towards Lodestar. “Why not take the hoofcuffs off too?”

Melon shakes her head. “Judgy has key.”

Gearing walks over to the gathered group and comments, “I got us a way out.”

“Really? So quick?” Swift asks as her head jerks over to look at him.

“Eyup.”

“Hey… if you’re making a break… mind letting me out too?” a gruff voice comes from the dark of the cage next to Lodestar’s. When they all look over at it the voice chuckles as he says, “Hey… you get me my stuff, and I’ll even roast the bastards, free of charge…” A buck walks up with burns over the right side of his face and covering his right shoulder. Old burns. But ones that have made it look like someone had gotten a heat lamp too close to a wax sculpture as it’s so warped and wavy and the hide looks positively melted.

Gearing looks over at him and asks, “We let you out. Get you your stuff. You help burn these crazy bastards? Deal?”

The buck rears up and slams his forehooves against the railing of his improvised cell. “Count on it!”

“You got yourself a deal,” Gearing replies as he turns back to Swift and the others. “Get Lodestar, we’re getting out of here.”

“Hell yeah! Let’s burn!” cries the buck in the cage giddily.

Handy looks at Gearing and frowns as he says, “I really don’t like you making decisions that affect everyone like that without even talking to anyone first… We don’t even know that buck.”

Gearing looks at him, “It’s between me and him. Nopony else.”

Handy waves a hoof at the others and scowls as he says,” But we’re standing right here!”

Gearing nods and then motions towards the back side of the motor pool, “Exactly, so do like I said, and get the hell out of here already.” He walks in, scoops up Lodestar with his sleeve covered wings, and carries him out of the cage. He looks at Handy and asks, “So you going to carry him, or make your wife do it? Because Dandy can’t.”

Handy lets out a sigh and nods. “Yeah, I’ll carry him. Swift needs her speed.” After Lodestar is carefully laid across Handy’s back he adds, “Come on, lets go.”

Gearing turns and leads the way to the back of the motor pool. “Come on, this way.”

As the group is following Gearing to the back, the burnt buck follows along as close as he can inside of the cage and yells, “H-hey! Forgetting something? The door’s locked!”

Gearing looks over at him and says, “I’ll be back to let you out in a minute, I gotta show them the way out first!”

“B-but you’re coming back, right?! You’re not going to just leave me here to be their lunch are you?!”

“We have a deal, and I’m gonna honor it, “Gearing replies flatly.

“Well… shit… fuck!” the burned buck curses as he snarls. Then, apparently realizing his situation, puts on the shit eatingest grin on his muzzle he can muster before he calls sweetly, “Pleeeeeasse? And thank yoooouuu!”

Gearing doesn’t even respond and leads the way to the back side of the motor pool where there’s a small office set next to a giant metal retractable shutter. He walks in and turns to look at them as he grins and hits a single key on the glowing terminal set on the desk.

Instantly the overhead motors whine and whirl as the door is lifted up and off the floor. Once it’s high enough to walk under while just barely ducking, Gearing hits the button again and stops it. “Told you there was a terminal to open it.”

“Such a smart ass,” Swift giggles as she leads the way out the back door and into the far more pleasant air of the Hoofington Wastes.

Dandy and Handy head out right after her as they cautiously look around. But, once on the other side, Dandy turns to look at Gearing and asks, “What are you standing there for, come on.”

Gearing hits the button again, and the shutter starts lowering again. “Can’t. This isn’t finished.”

“Oh that’s bullshit! I’m not letting you-“ She jumps towards the closing door, and catches a brass combat boot wearing hoof to the chest midair as the shutter is coming down.

Gearing lowers his head with the lowering shutter and replies, “Lodestar needs emergency medical aid. And you all need treatment. We’re out of supplies. Your priority is to get Lodestar back to Megamart. I’ll meet you there.”

Swift yells back, “You sure you got this Gearing?”

His modulated voice grumbles back with a near chuckle, “Never know what hit’em.”

“You better, you bastard! You owe me, remember!” Dandy screeches with her muzzle down near the ground just before the shutter finishes closing. She spins around and bucks the metal shutter a few times with her hindhooves. “You insufferable prick! You better not die on me, you hear?!”

Handy stares at the door for a moment before he asks, “What about Melon?”

Swift lets out a sigh as she says, “Handy… she had plenty of time to get out if she wanted… Gearing didn’t stop her. She didn’t… so … she didn’t…” She looks over at him and frowns as she says, “She chose to stay behind, for whatever reason.” She nods her head to the side as she says, “Come on, let’s all get to Megamart, we got a long trek ahead of us.”

Inside, after the shutter has sealed, Gearing turns his head to look at Melon, and asks gruffly, “Not leaving?”

Melon shakes her head.

Gearing starts walking back to the cages as he says, “It’s your choice. You’re free to go; I can’t make you do what you don’t want to.”

“Nopony can save me,” Melon says with a choke as she follows behind.

Gearing looks back at her and says softly, “We’ve all done bad things. But your friends will be glad you survived. Don’t let the guilt make you get yourself killed.”

Melon shakes her head and replies, “That’s not it…”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “What then?”

“I’m one of them…”

Gearing shakes his head. “No, you’re not. You helped us. You rescued Lodestar.”

She sniffles and smiles weakly as she hides her eyes behind her bloody bangs. “I… I did manage that.”

“See, so you’re fine.”

“No. I die.”

Gearing stops and turns to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

She starts crying as she looks up at him, but with a slight, sad smile. “They made me one of them… They not only made me kill my own friends. They made me… eat…”

Gearing slowly turns to look at her as he asks, “… eat.. .your friends?”

The burnt buck leans up against the bars and waves a foreleg through the gap at Gearing as he says, “This is touching and all, but can you please get me out of here already!”

Melon nods and says, “Yes… but also of ones that had died in trial.” She points at her eyes and sobs. “I’m infected! I’m one of them.” She shakes her head throwing tears around as she says, “I’m glad I could at least help Lodestar… that that’s the last thing I’ve managed to do… but…” She sits down on her haunches and hangs her head as she says, “But I don’t want to become a monster. I don’t want to lose my mind and be… be… Evil! I’m going to die, I know this, but I want to die a pony! A good pony! At least as good as I can be with the rotten stuff I’ve had to do… Not… not as…” She looks up and her eyes go wide as she stares down the barrel of Gearing’s revolver.

“You’re call,” Gearing’s modulated voice comments coldly.

She looks from the end of the rifled barrel, up to his glowing red eyes, and the smile on her face just grows up her muzzle. With tears streaming down her cheeks she closes her eyes and says softly, “Please.”

Gearing punctuates her request with a pull of the trigger, and makes the chamber echo out with the revolver’s blast again. Pausing only a fraction of a second to make sure he wasn’t cutting her off before blowing out her brains before the disease has a chance to rot and warp it into something sinister.

“What the fuck!?” the burnt buck screams as he recoils away from the cage. “Weren’t you two friends or something?! Why’d you come in to rescue them just to blow her brains all over the place?!” Gearing turns his head to look at him, and the buck’s flanks smack into the back wall as he stares at the gun now pointed at him. “We had a deal! What kind of busted ass machine are you?!”

Gearing snarls as he says, “If I was a machine, and you were talking to me like that, I’d say ‘I’m about ta overload my aggression inhibitors!’”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

Gearing turns his head and stows his revolver now that it’s spent it’s last round on a worthy cause as he says, “But I’m not a fucking machine.”

“Uhm… so... doesn’t that make it even worse?” the burnt buck asks before recoiling even more with the snap of Gearing’s focus to him. “I mean… shit… Come on, cut me some fucking slack here! I’m trying okay?!”

Gearing walks up to the cage and replies, “Our deal. I intend on honoring it.” Then he grabs the key from where Melon had left it on the ground, and walks over to the cage the burnt buck is in. As he’s opening the door the burnt buck bounds over, but stops at the gate as Gearing grabs him by the throat with one hoof, and puts his other forehoof in the buck’s face. “And I intend on making you honor it too!”

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Alright! Whatever! Let’s go get’em!”

Gearing shakes his head. “That wasn’t the deal.” The burnt buck looks absolutely confused and Gearing replies, “I let you out, and get you your equipment…and you help me burn them.”

“Yeah…. So?”

“Where’s your equipment? Let’s go get it so we can make these bastards burrrnnnn!” Gearing replies with a gravely tone to his modulated voice.

The buck’s eyes go wide with excitement as he says, “Yes! Burn, burn, burn!”

Footnote: Fragmentation errors in ‘credential matrix’ detected . . .

Error . . .

Parity check failure . . .

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!!Compartmentalization Protocol Initiated!

62.5 Furloughed

A gentle summer breeze cuts across her path as Dandy makes her way through the gate in a tall chain link fence, and steps hoof onto the homestead of some clever ponies that’d converted an old shipping company into a fully functioning farm. In short order, they had ripped up the vast majority of the asphalt and cement, exposing the untainted ground underneath. Soil that’s perfect for growing a variety of crops. Which, judging by the masses of greenery, the plants seem to approve of their efforts. She trots along, looking casually side to side, enjoying the view along the way, as she makes her way to the old office building that has been converted into a home. All while happily humming a Sweetie Bell song that she’d recently heard on a radio while out and about.

The large warehouse behind it is only for extra storage, workshop space, and an out of the way place to keep many trinkets or to work on things out of any bad weather that might come.

So she heads straight for the actual living space with a carefree, practically elated, smile on her face. A smile that just grows even wider as something catches her eye to the left. A large leafy plant with massive leaves that look all wrinkly, like a piece of paper that’s been crumpled up and unfolded. Repeatedly. She can never remember what it’s called, but it looks exceedingly tasty. So she quickly envelopes one of the leaves, one that’s not quite the size of being truly ripe, and bends it backwards. It easily snaps off its tall thick stock and she quickly floats it over to herself.

She continues trotting on, nibbling and happily squealing as she savors the flavor of whatever it is. She can’t help but giggle as she knows the owners of the homestead won’t mind. She’s special.

Anyone else would probably get murdered in short order for theft.

She trots up the metal stairs as she sucks the remaining bit of thick stem into her muzzle and takes in the view around the area that constitutes the family home’s ‘front porch’. There are many plants growing in boxes and containers, with a huge network of pipes coming from the roof and emptying into a series of water barrels on the ground next to the raised porch. She uses the ladle hanging off the railing, and grabs a quick dipful with her magic. She slowly tips her head back as she drinks straight from the ladle. The cool refreshing water runs over the edges of her muzzle and down her chin as she drinks more and more from the slow steady pour. A near never ending cool revitalment, that not only quenches her thirst but makes her glad to be alive, floods her mouth to overflowing as even more slides down her throat. Such amazing things are few and far between, and she, of all creatures, knows this is true.

She uses a hoof to wipe the cool clean water from her muzzle as she carefully hangs the ladle back onto the railing. She gives the ladle an appreciative pat with a hoof as she tilts her head, squeeing internally as she mentally thanks it for merely existing.

Dandy promptly turns and, simultaneously, pulls open the door to the office building turned homestead with her magic without any caution or ceremony. She walks through, with the door calmly closing behind her as she steps into the shade of the foyer where a secretary once greeted guests and clients. But the home is kept at a comfortable temperature and she takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh of contentment.

There’s good places. There’s great places. There’s fantastic places.

But then there’s here.

This is definitely the best place. She’s never been so happy or comfortable in her entire life than she is being here. And, she wouldn’t even ever leave if she had a choice. But, that’s life.

She nods to herself as, on some level, a mental flag gets raised that leaving is also good. Because then she gets the joy of coming back. And with a place like this, you don’t want to risk getting too used to it. It might lose some of its magic if so. She waves a hoof and lets out a soft nicker as she brushes the idea out of existence. Like she could ever get tired of this place and get bored of it. Not going to happen. Ever.

This is the best place. Always and forever. She nods sagely with her eyes closed as she keeps slowly taking in slow deep breaths.

The air is filled with a variety of pleasant scents. Some are easily recognizable as various herbs that are being used for potpourri and incense. Some of which are being freshly grown right on the front porch. So there’s a never ending supply of it to enjoy. And then there are the other smells. Smells that let her know someone’s cooking something.

Something good.

“Is that you, Dandy?” a familiar stallion’s voice calls out from down a short hallway and from the door leading to the next room over.

The voice sends another flurry of giddiness through her before she nods widely and smiles. She takes off her saddle bags and drops them off on the metal desk near the door as she calls back, “Yeah, it’s me. How do you always seem to know?”

“Technology, Dandy, Technology,” the stallion partially chuckles before he adds, “Ask Stable-Tec how it works, because I have no clue. It just does!”

Dandy takes off her long white coat and hangs it up on the provided coat hangers on the wall with her magic. She gives herself a vigorous shake, feeling the wondrous air around her as she asks, “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, same ole, same ole, just another day that ends in ‘y’,” the voice replies back with a coy tone that makes Dandy’s ear twitch.

“Uh huh… ‘same ole, same ole’ huh?” Dandy asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Nothing interesting at all, huh?”

“Eyup.”

Dandy rolls her eyes and smirks as she lets out a sigh, “Why is it I simply don’t believe that?” Her smile gets even wider as she tilts to the side a bit and calls over towards the door where she knows he’s standing near. “Especially when you phrase it like that!”

A yellow blur zips across her nose, fast enough that her dark mane swishes to the side, completely parallel to the ground even as short as it is, and draws her eye’s attention. A few more zips of yellow blur by her as it slowly manifests into a small yellow tornado right in front of her eyes. But, the sight doesn’t startle her in the least. Instead it just draws an even wider smile from Dandy as her eyes partially close at the welcome sight.

Slowly the blur line shortens until a small flying yellow filly appears in front of her at eye level as she casually flaps her wings slowly, but maintains the same height. The little filly squeals as she says happily, “You’re back!”

Dandy nods slowly as she looks from the little filly’s bright green eyes up to her jet black mane. She reaches a forehoof up and gently brushes the filly’s mane to the side as she asks with a smirk, “Kiddo, is that horn still getting bigger?”

The filly’s eyes cross comically as she looks up absolutely confused. She reaches up with a forehoof and gently rubs her hoof over the protrusion coming from her forehead. “Ummm I think so?” She looks at Dandy and gives her a sheepish smile as she asks, “So… uh… when’s it going to stop? It’s already as big as yours, ain’t it?”

Dandy leans forward and compares horns for a moment by crossing them as she giggles, “Nah, sweetie, yours might be about as long as mine, but it’s not nearly as thick.”

“Awww… man…” the little filly says with a sigh as she hangs her legs limply in the air. “But, then what does that mean?”

Dandy leans over and nuzzles her cheek with her own as she laughs, “It means you’ve got a lot more to grow, and it’s going to get even bigger!”

The filly giggles and pulls back as she excitedly trots in midair. “Yaaaay! I’m gonna be all big and strong like momma and poppa!”

Dandy rolls her eyes and sits down as she smirks. “Sweetie. You’re an alicorn… Of course you’re going to grow up and be all powerful… it’s kinda in the job description.” She waves her forehoof nonchalantly as she adds, “I’m not complaining, really, but I blame your father for it. He’s ridiculous.”

The little filly giggles as she holds her tummy, ‘Yeah, Daddy’s funny!”

Dandy smirks and tilts her head as she asks, “Yeah… so… what really happened today? Since you’re dad’s being so silly about it?”

The little yellow filly’s big green eyes get even bigger as they sparkle and her grin grows to a size that doesn’t seem to actually fit on her head. “Oh!” She starts her little tornado routine as she flies around in a quick circle, quickly becoming unidentifiable from pure speed. The little yellow tornado cruises around in front of Dandy, raising and lowering randomly as the filly chatters on, “Well, some big ole mean ponies and stuff showed up. And they tried to take our food. And our stuff-”

“Emphasis on tried,” the stallion’s voice chuckles from the next room.

But the filly doesn’t slow down at all as the two ponies’ spoken words melt into each other, “-And do some bad things. And they said they were going to do bad stuff to me. And Daddy told them to get lost. And they laughed. And they said didn’t care. And they said they were going to do what they wanted to do. And they had this huuuuuuge big boss pony with them. And she was like as big as a mountain. And she said she’d eat Daddy for breakfast, and feed the bones to her pet dragon. And Daddy told the mean ole mare, ‘Light’s green bitch’-”

“Language!” the stallion’s voice yells in from the other room.

The filly pauses only long enough to look abashed as she stares into the room the voice came from, “But you said it, Daddy! You diiiiid!” and instantly she goes back to her story without waiting on anything else, “And they all ponypiled on Daddy, and then Daddy beat them up all like.” She stops impersonating a tornado long enough to start randomly turning around and bucking the air in random directions, mid air, as she continues, “Pow, bop, bang, smack, crack!” She happily trots in place as she says, “And, yeah, I didn’t see them after that, Daddy beat them up so bad they just gone!”

“A dragon? They had a pet dragon with them?” Dandy asks as she tilts her head and asks the excitable filly with amusement plain on her own face.

“It wasn’t a dragon, Dandy, don’t worry,” the same buck’s voice comes from the other room.

“Oh, well that’s good to hear,” Dandy says with a giggle as she puts a hoof to her mouth. “For a second I was-“

“It was a wyvern… they only pretend to be dragons until the real dragons show up.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she asks, “A bunch of raiders attacked today with a pet dragon!?”

“Wyvern, Dandy, Wyvern,” the voice snickers from the other room.

“Well, where are they?!” Dandy asks as she quickly turns around and looks out the window to try and see any sign of anyone. Or, for that matter, any sign of the fight that must have taken place recently. But, no, nothing. Just a pristine farmland with produce that some ponies would literally kill for.

“Gone,” the stallion replies back nonchalantly. “And, on an unrelated note, I got you a new pair of boots, they’re in the box on the dining room table.”

Dandy’s ears perk up and she turns around, she trots out of the foyer and into the living room where a large wooden table has been set up dead center with a variety of chairs all the way around. Numerous trophies, ranging from damaged weapons to posters and letters of appreciation from many individuals for jobs done and ponies saved, decorate every conceivable surface of the room. With even a few being dangled from the ceiling by wires or other supports.

She spots the wooden chest on the table and tilts her head as she looks it over. “What’s this all about?” Dandy wonders aloud.

“It’s a su-prise, it’s a su-prise!” the yellow streak zipping around her giggles happily. “Open it, open it!”

Dandy’s eyes zip back and forth as she tries, and fails, to keep up with the speeding filly alicorn flying orbits around her. She uses her own magic and lifts the lid, letting the top fall back onto its hinge before she hops up and puts her forehooves on the table. She peeks inside and instantly her eyes go wide. “There’s a hell of a lot more than just boots in here!”

A snicker from the next room lets her know the prank she’s being subjected to has been sprung. She rolls her eyes with a smile before she sits back onto her haunches and simultaneously starts pulling the various items out of the chest. Her eyes go wide as she sees the absolutely beautiful set of barding that comes out of the wooden chest. There’s more than she can conceivably believe would have fit in that smallish box in the first place. She fans it all out, and floats it around her as she looks it over. The details put into it show a lot of care and dedication. Pieces cut to exact sizing and shape specifications. Nearly invisible riveting to minimize weak points. And there even seems to be a lot of decorative tooling to give it a fish scaled appearance. But the greenish yellow leather armor is not only supple and easily flowing, but still looks pretty tough. She runs a hoof over it and starts feeling the various ridges along its sides. And it slowly dawns on her: these aren’t merely some decorative elements that she’s seeing here. “What the hell, is this? Dragonhide?!”

“Wyvern, Dandy, Wyvern…” the same voice chuckles again.

“You really did have someone attack here with a pet dragon!?” Dandy asks with her eyes open to their max.

“Wyvern, Dandy, Wyvern…”

“Wyvern, dragon, whatever!” She waves a hoof at the floating equipment as she says, “You said ‘boots’ what’s with all of this?!”

“Well, it was a big wyvern, didn’t want to be wasteful… and you could use it.”

Dandy scowls as she looks at the armor, “Yeah, okay, I get it, I’ll go kick their ass with this! No problem!”

“No need,” the stallion practically sings as various dishes clatter around in the next room.

“Why?” Dandy asks as she looks up the hallway, “Don’t know where they are?”

“Oh, I know where they are. Like I said, they’re gone.”

“Well, they might come back! With more dragon wyvern whatever… Scalie thingies!”

“They won’t be back, I know exactly where they are,” he assures her with such confidence in his voice that she can’t help but tilt her head and stare at the empty doorway.

“Oh? Then, where are they, exactly?”

As she’s tilted sideways, looking through the doorway into the hallway, and staring at the door that the voice keeps coming out of, the owner of the voice finally steps out of the room they were in and into the hallway as he makes his way towards the dining room.

With ridiculous dexterity he walks down the hall on only three legs. On one hoof he has a large metal bowl steadily perched yet full of vegetables. In the tip of his left wing he has a large root vegetable of some kind, like a massive radish. His right wing holds aloft a curved knife that he expertly uses to dice the radish, putting the pieces into the bowl, while he’s walking. Without dropping, tripping, or losing anything. But, as he steps into the dinning room, she notices that it’s not an ordinary knife and has a bit too much of a curve to it to be normal. He stops not far from the table and starts twirling the knife around his green wing tip with a speed, dexterity, and precision that would make a unicorn jealous.

Being a unicorn herself, she’d know. Because she’s jealous, but at the same time mesmerized by the sight.

Her eyes follow it along before she asks, “Is… is that a dragon…”

“Wyvern, Dandy, Wyvern…. It’s a wyvern’s claw…”

Her eyes trail from it, to the suit of armor and clothes before she looks back at him and asks softly, “And… the rest?”

He gives the wyvern’s claw another forceful twirl, spinning it up into the air and catching it again with the same wingtip before he gives her a mischievous grin. “Fertilizer… at least, what wasn’t useful or can’t be traded away.”

The little filly hops onto Dandy’s back and gives her a big hug from behind as she rides on her back. “Daddy made dragon steaks out of the big ole mean lizard thingy, but he said I can’t have any.”

He gives a strong forceful nod as he sets the bowl of vegetables on the dining room table. He sticks the claw into a holster at his side, that seems to be made of the same type of reptilian hide as her new boots and barding, as he says, “No daughter of mine is going to be eating any meat if I have anything to say about it. This is a strictly vegetarian household!” He gives another forceful nod before he takes off the cooking apron he’s wearing, with crossed cartoonish looking carrots across the front, and sets it to the side.

“Isn’t that right, dear?” Gearing asks Dandy.

Dandy looks over at him and her ears practically melt down as she gives him a warm smile. She loves it when he calls her one of the many pet names he has for her. “Yeah, Gearing. That’s right.” She shakes her head, getting rid of the goofy grin from her muzzle, before she adds, “At least that way we won’t have to worry about accidentally getting something we don’t want, and end up raiders ourselves.”

“Eyup… the less raiders in the world, the better.” Gearing gives Dandy a smirk as he adds, “I mean… I appreciate the exercise… but, really… it’s rather dull to be dealing with them.” He reaches over, snags the yellow filly off of Dandy’s back, and starts nuzzling her as he has a massive grin on his muzzle. “Especially when I already have this little hell raiser to contend with on a daily basis.” The two cuddle and kiss each other repeatedly as the filly giggles and wraps her limbs and wings around him. He nuzzles the yellow filly’s neck and cheek with his own as he partially opens his eyes and stares at Dandy with a look of pure adornment and, not so hidden along the edges, a fiery lust that lets her know she’s going to be having a hard time walking tomorrow if he has anything to say about it. “But, she’s a treasure… so I wouldn’t have that any other way.”

Dandy feels a tingle go from the tip of her tail to the tip of her ears as she gives him a rather giddy smile in return. Her hindlegs start twitching and her nethers start a riot asking what the hold up is about. She’s here. He’s here. They have their own room. What’s the hold up?

She partially closes her eyes and lets out a content sigh as she looks at Gearing. This is exactly what she needed in her life. She can feel it in her very being. It’s not just his immaculate skills in the bedroom. Or his knowledge of how and willingness to perform any bit of manual labor that might come up. It’s not his, apparently, endless stamina. It’s this.

The fully and unwavering knowledge that, no matter what. No matter where she goes. No matter what she has to do. She doesn’t have to worry about things at home. That her lover can more than handle himself. And, by extension, she doesn’t have to worry about anything happening while she’s gone. It’s one of her greatest fears. That she’d settle down. That she’d get comfortable. Then something will happen while she’s out working. That she’ll come home to find her family devoured by raiders, slaughtered by bandits, or stolen by slavers.

But with a stallion like Gearing, she has no problems having a family any more. They’ll all be safe. She doesn’t have to worry anymore. They’ll all be safe.

Both her lover, and their children.

Dandy walks over and wraps a leg around Gearing, and the filly, turning the adorable nuzzlefest between daughter and father into a massive group hug as they happily nuzzle each other. “And neither would I, Gearing… neither would I.”

“Momma, Daddy, ya squishin’ me!” the filly yelps out between them, before getting pulled in, simultaneously, between both of them as both Dandy and Gearing use a limb and hold her sideways in a cradling action between them. The filly giggles and pulls her limbs in tightly to herself as she grins up at them with an oversized smile. “Love you Momma and Poppa!”

Dandy lets out a sigh as she leans down and carefully kisses the filly on the forehead, avoiding the bony protrusion sticking out of her forehead. “Love you too, sweetie.”

Gearing turns to the side, pulling the little one with him and still cradling her with one foreleg, despite her none-infant size, and walks over to the other side of the table as he asks, “So, how was your day?”

Gearing continues to cradle and rock the little one with his one hoof as he walks around and uses his wings to prepare the table for dinner. He sets out utensils and plates, all using just his wings, as he walks around and hums to himself, and the little yellow filly still curled up in his foreleg.

Dandy sits down at the table and watches the scene with growing excitement as she swishes her tail more actively. “Fine… fine… not nearly as exciting as your day had been, apparently.”

Gearing looks over at her and gives a devilish grin as he says, “Well, crops are going to be pretty good at least.”

Dandy snickers before she leans forward and rests her head on a forehoof as she just drinks in the scene of Gearing tending to the house, and their foal. “Yeah, there’s that… but I got some more caps coming in tonight too, so there’s that.”

Gearing looks over at her as he’s dishing out some roasted vegetables from a pan that’s so hot that it scorches the table when he sets it down. But he’d carried it in here with his bare wing. He quickly curses under his breath before putting a cinder block on the table and replacing the hot metal pan on top of it. But, after giving her a sheepish smile, he continues serving tonight’s meal. “Well, that’s good. I mean. We’re pretty well off already, and have more than we need, but it’s good to keep it coming in.”

Dandy leans forward and takes in the scent of the hot dished out food on her plate with a slow draw in through her nostrils. So many fresh herbs and vegetables. She’d only heard of this kind of delicious smelling, and tasting, food being served to the Society’s uppity snobs at the Elysium. But, being with Gearing, it’s become a new level of existence for her. Not just regular food that she doesn’t have to worry about going hungry, but a much higher quality food that she actually looks forward to eating.

She can’t help but giggle as she looks at the plate and knows, without a doubt, if she stayed home all day every day...

Her golden stallion with the big bubble butt and crystalline green wings would make her fat. So fat she couldn’t walk. Just from his cooking.

She giggles before she looks up at him and gives her tail another excited swish, “So… yeah… we have another visitor coming by later tonight… And, don’t worry, Big Daddy and Swift have already agreed to foalsit for the night.”

The little yellow filly hops up from Gearing’s loving cradling actions as she asks excitedly, “Uncle Big Daddy and Auntie Swift? Really!?” She happily trots in midair, doing circles around Gearing’s head, as she sings, “Going to see Auntie Swiiiiift, Going to see Uuuuuuncle Big Daddy… Yay!

Gearing grabs the little filly out of the air, and sets her in a wooden seat next to him, with a plate of piping hot food piled up high in front of her. “Yeah, we’ll see…” He looks over at Dandy and asks, “Really Dandy? Another ‘visitor’?”

Dandy feels her cheeks flush before she shrugs. “Yeah… Another one.”

Gearing turns to the right and watches as their daughter hops up in the air, and comes down at the mountain of food like a missile. But, instead of literally diving into it, she simply chomps down on the plate of food. Entire whole vegetables disappear into her maw as she very quickly gets down to the plate like an automated beaver felling a tree. A plate that she starts quickly licking the sauce off of as she flies in mid air, rotating on multiple axes at once, but has the plate hovering in front of her muzzle the entire time using her levitation magic.

Gearing looks at her and smiles warmly as he asks, “Would you like more, sweetie?”

The little filly rolls over and pats her belly, which is now big and distended from the amount of food, before she lets out a very loud belch. “No thank you. I’m full! Thanks, Daddy!”

Gearing looks at her and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Too full for a fancy buck cake for dessert?”

The filly zips over right side up and stares at Gearing with her bright green eyes twinkling and a massive grin across her maw. “I didn’t say that!” She looks over at Dandy and asks, “Momma, tell Daddy, tell Daddy I didn’t say that! Please?!”

Dandy’s horn glows and from her saddle bag, sitting on the desk near the door, a package pops out and zips over by the dinner table. She flicks it out and a couple fancy buck cakes spills out onto the table as she says, “That’s right, Gearing. Our daughter didn’t say anything about turning down dessert.”

The little yellow filly happily clops her forehooves together rapidly as she asks, “All of those mine?!”

Dandy waves it off with a hoof before she says,” Only one… pick which one you want now, you can have the rest later when your father says it’s okay.”

“Awww,” the filly lets out a soft sigh of disappointment before she says, “Cherry! I want the cherry!”

Dandy quickly levitates one up off the table and flicks it over towards the yellow alicorn filly before scooping up the rest and putting them back into a sack. The excluded one doesn’t get very far before it’s snatched up by the filly’s own golden levitation field and zips over to her. But, in mid flight, the filly giggles and takes off down the hallway with it.

As she’s zipping away, Gearing calls after her, “Don’t forget to wash up afterwards, you know how sticky your muzzle gets after one of those!”

“O-kaaaaaaaaay,” the filly’s voice echoes down the hall and, from the noise in the background, it sounds like she actually zipped off to play in the warehouse behind the house again while she was at it.

Dandy giggles as she puts a hoof to her muzzle. When Gearing looks at her with a partial smirk and a raised eyebrow, Dandy says with a laugh, “Hey, don’t look at me like that… she’s your daughter!”

Gearing chuckles as he looks around. “Yeah… well…” He starts walking around the table as he gives her a smirk in return. “She’s your daughter too… so…”

“Mmmhmmm,” Dandy replies as her eyes continuously trail over the golden buck’s metallic body as he steadily walks closer. “Well, whose fault is that?”

Gearing stops in front of her, and sits down, looking in her eyes as he grins. “Hey, I’ll take credit for that.” He puts a hoof to his chest as he asks, “How many other fathers can say they’ve sired an alicorn?” He shakes his head. “None as far as I know.”

They both giggle and, simultaneously, blatantly look each other over. But, then Gearing asks, “So… about this ‘visitor’…”

“Hmmm?”

“When’s she get here?”

Dandy giggles before she bats her eyes at him. “What makes you so sure it’s a she?”

Gearing turns his head and smirks before he says, “Because in all of this time that you’ve been pulling this bar bet swindle, you’ve always brought home mares… not one buck.”

“Complaining?”

Gearing grins at her. “Not at all, just saying… you’re pretty predictable.” They both chuckles before he asks, “This can’t go on forever, eventually somepony’s going to get wise to it and stop making bets with you about this.”

Dandy bats her eyelashes at him before leaning forward and getting muzzle to muzzle with him. But not quite touching. She reaches up and gently rubs his cheek with a hoof as she says, “Hey… apparently it’s hard to believe I got a stallion that can put a mare into a coma just from his lovemaking talents.” She giggles as she says, “I swear, if you’re cutie mark doesn’t involve sexy times in some way, the world is in trouble.”

Gearing chuckles as he says, “Yeah, but it’s not a fair bet, eventually they’re going to get wise to the fact that my shiny ass doesn’t actually get tired… it’s kind of cheating, you know?”

Dandy leans over and kisses him along the muzzle as she says, “Somehow, I’m sure, even knowing that wouldn’t keep them away… I’m pretty sure they’re totally fine with having a lighter purse…” She giggles as she says softly, “After they wake up again, that is.”

Gearing shakes his head lightly, expertly timing it so he can kiss different spots on her muzzle and cheek, before he says softly, “Yeah, but you really okay with me sleeping with all of these mares?” He shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t want to ruin what we got.”

Dandy pulls back and grins. “Hey… No worries there… it’s my idea, you know… besides.” She looks off to the side and gives a coy grin as she says, “With a three way, I get to enjoy both worlds, while at the same time remaining conscious longer…”

Gearing pulls back and raises an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“And again, and again, and again, and suddenly it’s morning and I don’t even remember falling asleep,” Dandy says with a giggle as she feels her body flush. She looks him in the eye and sees his bemused look so she gives him a soft tender peck on the lips. “If there’s two of us, you have to divide your attentions… Which means I get to stay awake and enjoy it longer before you short circuit my brain with your ‘golden touch’ there, you insatiable beast, you.”

Gearing rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile. He chuckles and puffs himself up a bit with obvious pride as he says, “Yeeaahhh… well. You asked for it.”

“I did,” Dandy agrees quickly. “And, no take-backsies.”

Gearing chuckles again before he tilts his head and asks, “So, you’re really going to have Big Daddy and Swift foalsit?” Dandy nods. “Are you serious? You know he’s going to stuff her full of junk food! He always does!”

Dandy tilts her head and asks as she partially closes her eyes, “Yeah, well, who else could actually handle our alicorn daughter, hmm?”

“He does it with bribery! Of the unhealthy sweets variety!” Gearing retorts with a frown as he narrows his eyes at her.

“You don’t want Big Daddy foalsitting his god daughter?”

“Not really, no! Last time he loaded her up with so much sugar I was sure I was going to get diabetes just by looking at the leftovers on her sticky muzzle! And I’m not even organic! And Swift’s no help in that regard because she thinks it’s Celestia damned hilarious to send her back to us super charged for the moon!”

Dandy puts a hoof to her mouth and taps it a couple times as she says, “That’s true… I think she broke a couple speed records… for land and air…”

“See!?” Gearing asks as he waves a forehoof towards Dandy.

Dandy smirks as she asks, “Are you really going to tell Big Daddy that he’s not allowed to see his god daughter, because he gives her too many snacks?” Dandy laughs. “I’d love to see that!”

Gearing purses his lips off to the side and looks off to the other side. “Uh… yeah… no…”

Dandy leans over towards him, almost falling over, as she gets under his muzzle and looks up at him. “You going to challenge him in the arena fight cage over it? Huh? You gonna make a big deal out of it and make it an official challenge to forbid him from foalsitting her anymore?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and says, “No… Hell no…” He shakes his head. “I’m not suicidal, that’s Big Daddy.”

Dandy grins at him and asks, “Sooooo?”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Fine… sure… he does seem to enjoy having her around. He keeps swearing she’s going to be top ten before she even gets her cutie mark.

Dandy sits up straight and nods her head primly with her eyes closed. “Mmmhmm! That’s my daughter all right!”

Gearing groans, “Well, if that’s the case, you can at least stay here for a day or two afterwards… Going to need the extra pair of eyes with how quickly she gets around and into things…”

Dandy keeps her eyes closed as she grins. “I’ll think about it, but staying home for a day or two means lost caps, I’m gonna have to make sure I can afford that.”

She slowly opens her eyes as she feels him slide over next to, then behind her. She slowly closes her eyes again and starts directing her muzzle up as he begins giving her soft tender kisses along the side of her neck, starting at her right ear and working his way down. “Mmm yeah…that’s a start.”

Her body gets warmer by the second as she starts flushing. It’s not fair. He knows all the right spots and buttons to push. And his lips start flicking the switches one by one with expert timing to get the tidal wave started.

“When’s our guest get here tonight?” Gearing whispers in her ear before he starts another cycle of trailing kisses down her neck and over her chest.

“Not until later tonight,” Dandy murmurs. “Four, five hours, maybe?”

“Mmm, good,” Gearing says with a chuckle as he trails kisses down Dandy’s neckline.

“Hmmm? For?” Dandy’s eyes jump open as she glances down and sees Gearing’s wings undoing her button down and exposing more of her fur at an alarming rate. Even more so as his kisses trail down even further as well, as he pulls her under him and uses his long neck to increase the rate of his very effective kisses. “Oh sweet Celestia, I’m fucked,” Dandy murmurs.

Gearing comes back up to her ear and chuckles, releasing a hot warm gush of breath across her neck and ear and causing her fur to tantalizingly stand up in response. “Yeah, Dandy, that’s the idea of it…”

She lets out a long slow groan as she leans back and gives in to his wandering limbs and lips. Focusing on how they feel as they are passing over her body. How she’s positioned and can feel him pressing into her from behind. And that obvious, and delightful, growing bulge pressing against her flanks. But even more so knowing what’s coming.

Knowing what’s next.

Knowing that this is only the beginning and that-

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Dandy, hey, Dandy! Equs to Dandy!”

Dandy lays on a cot in Megamart’s hotel, stretched out belly down, but with her forelegs tucked in slightly except for her forehooves hanging over the cot’s edge. Her face carries the trademark of her pinkish flush, and her ears are positively glowing from being so red. She giggles and grins with her mouth partially open, with a small trickle of drool on her lip, as she happily taps on the metal frame of the cot with her forehooves. She blinks a few times, then looks around, and instantly lets out a disappointed sigh as she mutters quietly to herself, “Was just getting to the good part…”

A mare dressed like a typical caravanner looks at her with a smirk as she asks, “What the hell was that all about? That goofy ass smirk? Looked like a kid in a candy story.”

“Oh, sorry, I was like… a million miles away,” Dandy mutters as she shakes her head and tries to clear her fog addled brain from her daydream.

The mare nods as she sets a piece of paper on Dandy’s outstretched forehooves. “Uh, yeah… well… Doc Bonesaw asked me to drop this off for you. Said to tell you ‘It was done’ and that you should see this as soon as possible.” She turns away and smiles as she says, “He said he was pretty sure you’d be happy with the results, so… Congrats I guess?”

Dandy’s horn flares up as she grabs the paper with her magic and brings it up to her muzzle to quickly read what was written.

She slowly starts shaking as she says quickly, “N-no… but…” Tears start forming on the edges of her eyes as she looks it over again. “This can’t be…”

Footnote: - - - NA - - -

63 Operator Headspace

With it getting so late, and even passing traffic nearly evaporating, Patches figures it’s as good of a time as any to close up her booth in Megamart for the night. With everything going on lately, business had been pretty good. Busy. Profitable even. But the down side of that is the physical and mental toll it takes on a mare. She’s ready to call it quits, get a snack, something to drink, and then go to bed. Probably a really hard something that rhymes with ‘shmooze’ or ‘Whisk-Key’ given the day she’s had. As she starts moving around her displays so she can close up the booth, she grabs a fancy buck cake from her secret stash behind the counter, and quickly takes a bite before the wrapper’s even entirely off of it.

She pauses just long enough to register the carroty goodness before she flicks the wrapper onto her workbench inside.

Picking up trash is future her’s problem.

She wrinkles her nose for a second as she mutters to herself quietly, “What’s that smell?”

As she’s preparing to take another bite from the scrumptious carrot filling filled delight, a voice that she doesn’t recognize draws her attention through a crackling speaker.

“Hey, Patches, I know you’re -er,” there’s a staticky pop and screech that interrupts it before it picks up again, “-sing… closing… but got a minute to talk about a co-“ the speaker cuts out again and, as she starts turning her head, it finishes, “-sion… commission…?”

Her mouth had already been open to take another bite from her snack, but, the sight before her, in the middle of the walkway, makes her jaw completely hit the floor. Along with her eyes jumping to the size of practical saucers and her magic overglow to fail entirely.

The two ponies walking up, she can easily place. The one on the left, and further back, is an obvious Burner Boy, judging by his equipment. There’s no mistaking that custom flamer and the Hoofington Fire Department jacket he’s wearing. But he’s also wearing the hat with a respirator mask on as well. She may not know who this pony is, exactly, but his affiliation is unquestionable.

Then there’s the one who she knows exactly who it is. The one the Burner Boy is following close at heel.

She knows the armor well, for she helped make it, and, presumably, the owner underneath it. But, this doesn’t appear like how it looked when she last saw it. Which wasn’t long ago. There’s still pieces of the parts used to make it on the floor of her workspace.

But the outer trench coat, the one they spent so much time reinforcing, looks like it had been put through a wood chipper and somehow survived. Various sized holes and gashes are across its entire surface, along with some areas outright fraying. In some spots the leather had been pelted so badly that the combat armor pieces they used for reinforcement along the interior lining are actually visible. And some of those pieces have holes straight through them as well.

And that’s to say nothing of the damage that’s been inflicted to the rest of the armor.

The helmet is so bad that not only does it have a visible dent on the left side, but the mask and muzzle guard is fractured with sizable pieces missing off of the outside. The right lens flickers its red glow on and off at a rate that looks like an annoyed pony’s eyelid twitching. The left lens is a complete loss, with multiple cracks in it and a small piece actually entirely missing from the outer bottom connection point.

And then there’s the tip of some kind of weapon still sticking out of the breastplate where it had broken off, and the pony in the suit hadn’t even bothered to remove it.

As Patches is slowly taking in the vast damage, with her mouth gaping open, she finally blurts out, “Sweet Celestia, what the fuck happened to you?!”

Gearing’s wingtip zips out and catches the half eaten fancy buck cake before it hits the ground and holds it up, but the action also reveals the many holes in his wing sleeves and drops a few pieces of green crystal onto the ground in the process.

The Burner Boy looks at Patches and shakes his head before he sags his shoulders and lets out a sigh. “Oh, I’ve had one hell of a bad day, you just wouldn’t believe it! Thanks for asking! First I get jumped, then some raiders try and eat me… I tell ya! This last day’s been a real shitfest! Why I-”

“I don’t mean you!” Patches snorts at the ranting Burner Boy buck.

Gearing lifts the small treat up for Patches to take as he chuckles through the damaged respirator, “Yeah… ah-“ It entirely cuts off for a few moments before he manages to choke out, “I’m gonna need another pair of sunglasses for the helmet!”

“Pfft… figures no one would care about me,” the other buck snorts as he looks off to the side indignantly.

“Soots,” Gearing’s voice comes out clearly.

The buck in the Hoofington Fire Department outfit practically snaps to attention as he asks, “Yeah, boss?”

Gearing points off to the right, through the row of stalls, as he says, “Go find Swift, if you would, and let them know we’re back and I’ll be over there shortly to figure out our next move. They should be over at the motel.”

“Yeah, Boss, whatever you say,” the buck nods quickly before turning and trotting off. But, as much as seemingly being reduced to an errand buck, he seems happy with it. Especially with how quickly he starts picking up speed the further he gets away from Gearing and Patches.

Patches takes the cake from Gearing’s wingtip up in her magical field and takes a dainty bite before she smirks and adds, “Cute kid…”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Gearing replies.

Patches walks over and starts nibbling on the cake as she looks the armor over. She visibly winces a few times as she traces the damage over his entire body. After finishing off the cake, and coming back to the front to meet him face to face, she lets out a long low whistle before she asks, “So are you looking for repairs, or another armor upgrade?” She looks him in the eye and partially closes one of her own before she adds, “I’d thought we’d made an overkill level of walking tank armor that would be problematic to even move in. But apparently it wasn’t enough with the kind of trouble you get yourself into.” She reaches up and taps him on the end of his armored muzzle. “One day, you couldn’t go one day without wrecking your new armor!”

A clink draws both of their attentions as a piece of metal falls off his muzzle guard from where she’d tapped and comes to a stop between them.

Gearing shrugs before he says with a chuckle, “What can I say; I’m not allowed to have nice things…”

“Upgrade, or repair?” Patches repeats as she looks him over again.

“Both,” Gearing replies quickly. “Repair what I got now, and work on something better for later.”

Patches shakes her head. “I’ll figure something out, but I think what you really need is a zebra killer tank that you can wear at this rate.”

“Got one?” Gearing asks with a sparky chuckle.

* * *

While Gearing and Patches negotiate, scheme, and banter, Soots makes good on his escape. Sure, he’s grateful for the rescue, but he can’t help wondering how long he is going to be at the beck and call of a certain psychopony. He knows he could just take off. Make a break for it. But, really, he doesn’t want to do something like that and end up having someone like him as an enemy. He’s seen what he’s capable of.

And, Celestia protect him, that force of destruction is something Nightmare Moon herself had to of conjured up. And Soots feels the further away he is from it, the better. So playing errand buck is a no-brainer.

He zips along as he keeps his head on a swivel. It’s not nearly as crowded in here as the last several times he’d been into Megamart. But, he normally stops in during peak hours with his friends. Not in the night when almost everypony else has already done their shopping and gone home.

Most of the stalls have already closed up for the night anyway. So it makes looking for his target that much easier. Not that she’s hard to spot.

And, just as advertised, the music practically starts playing when his head whips one way then the other in an unintended double take. He’d recognize that sky blue goddess with the blue-streaked red mane anywhere. From any angle.

Especially from behind.

He’s glad he’s wearing his mask, as it does an excellent job of hiding the ridiculous grin across his muzzle while he shamelessly checks her out as he approaches her. But, as good as she looks, he knows better than to say anything. Considering the company she keeps. And, he knows better than anyone, a pretty face can easily hide an epic flank whooping if you’re not careful.

That ‘crazy Psychoshy’ is a perfect example of it in his mind.

He walks towards them and catches the attention of the blue buck with her, causing her to turn and look over her shoulder at what had drawn her companion’s focus from her.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Boss said to let you know that we made it back, and he’ll be over here in a bit to go over plans for what to do next,” Soots comments as he comes to a rather abrupt, and stiff, halt not far from where they are sitting next to a few of the Megamart’s motel cots.

Handy raises an eyebrow as he says, “I think you got the wrong ponies…”

Soots stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m pretty sure he meant you two.”

Swift directs her eyes side to side quickly as she looks from Handy to the new comer. “And… who’s your boss?”

“You know… Boss…” Soots says as he shrugs his shoulders. He looks between the two as he obviously expects them to make the connection. After a few moments he lets out an annoyed sigh as he says, “Well you’re friends with him, you should know better than I do!”

“Wait… what?” Handy asks as he stands up.

“Who the hell are you talking about?” Swift asks as she starts paying even more attention to Soots, and the flamer at his side.

Soots sits down as he lets out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t know his name, alright?! Cut me a fucking break here!” He waves towards Patches’ booth with a hoof as he says, “I asked him, I did, I tried, but he just said call him whatever the hell I wanted, that he didn’t care.” He huffs and looks off to the side as he grumbles, “He wouldn’t even give me his damn name, like I’d get it dirty or something if he did…”

He turns his head back to look at them, and both Swift and Handy look utterly confused. Soots rolls his head on his neck in a painfully exaggerated eye roll as he says, “Look…” He takes in a deep breath then starts flailing his forelegs around as he says, “He’s the big scary demon on hooves that you two stormed that raider nest in the Hoofington Police station with. You know. Him?!” He waves his hooves one way. “The one that just barged right in, dropped a fucking wagon on a mare that was impersonating a tank, successfully I might add, then he threw you all out with that busted up buck and stayed behind.”

Swift and Handy look at each other before Swift asks with a smirk, “You mean the one with the creepy voice modulator on his mask?”

“Yeah, him! That buck’s the scariest shit I’ve seen in my whole life!”

Swift giggles as she waves a hoof at him dismissively, “Yeah, Gearing has his moments, but he’s not that bad!”

Soots stares at her for a moment, in complete silence, before he says,” Not that bad… not that bad? Not. That. Bad?!”

Handy stares at him as he grumbles, “Yeah, that’s what she said, what of it?”

Soots sits back and stares at them for a few moments before he takes off his mask and reveals his half burnt face. “You two have either got to be idiots, or completely shitting me right now…” To their surprised, and slightly offended, reactions he takes in a deep breath. “That crazy mother fucker didn’t stop until he got each and every one of those raiders. I was there. I know!” He slaps on his chest a few times. “In a few instances he used me as fucking bait!”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she says quietly, “What?”

“Yeah! He even strapped a few tin cans on my tail and made me run up and down the hallways to draw them out. It was fucking nuts!”

“He did what?!” Handy asks with his eyes shooting open to their max possible size.

“Yeah! And, that’s not even the scary part!”

Swift and Handy glance at each other before turning to look at him, simultaneously, as they ask, “Oh?”

Soots nods as he waves over towards Patches’ booth again. “While they were busy chasing after me, he was chasing after them!” He points up at the ceiling and at various places on the walls as he says, “He strung several of them up like piñatas with wire around their necks, others he straight up pinned to the wall like they were pre war posters, but he used flagpoles and rebar!” He starts shaking as he says, “There was even a statue of Celestia in the courtroom, depicting justice… and he picked that whole fucking thing up and smashed one of the judge’s armored mares… You thought the one getting hit by the wagon was a mess, that bitch went everywhere. At once!”

He sits down and holds his cheeks as he says, “That’s all he wanted me for… bait… and to help him burn the bodies afterwards…”

Swift coughs, and tries not to laugh, as she says softly, “Well… you do have a flamer.”

“No!” he screams. “He didn’t want my flamer! He got the building’s trash incinerator back online and we just chucked the bodies in there! He made me march around and scorch whatever mess was too pasty to scoop up with a shovel and throw in the incinerator.” He leans towards Swift as he says quickly, “And with his crazy ass, there was a lot of that!” He flails his legs around as his pupils shrink to pinpricks while vividly remembering the scene. “It’s like he steamrolled the whole lot of them! Pony paste everywhere! Glue! Jam! You understand me!?”

He looks side to side before leaning closer and nervously chuckling. “I… I thought that level of insane murderous destructive power was limited to Reapers… but even of all the shit I’ve heard of Reapers as a whole, nothing was like this buck. I bet he’d be top ten if he actually gave a shit about fame or money or whatever and actually tried out.” To the blank stare they give him he gives a sheepish smirk in response and says, “He pretty much left everything. What he didn’t burn with the bodies that is, considering he didn’t even bother checking them.”

Handy looks between him and Swift before he says softly, “That… doesn’t sound like Gearing.” Swift shoots him a sideways glare and he adds, “Something seems off with this.”

Swift nods as she says, “He’s not really one for intentionally using somepony for bait like that.”

“Well, this buck did so… I don’t know what to tell you, except do not get on his bad side,” Soots says with a snort as he looks off to the side.

Swift giggles and directs her attention back to Soots, “Yeah, about that… Good advice… especially since he’s already killed one Reaper during a bout…”

Soots nods his head as he looks around and only partially pays attention, “Yeah, no kidding I mean-“ He pauses and his eyes go wide as he actually processes what was said. He looks over at Swift and asks softly, “Wait… killed a Reaper?”

Swift nods.

“In an official bout…”

Swift nods again, but with a growing grin across her muzzle.

“That means he’s…”

Her grin turns mischievous as she starts slowly nodding at him.

Soots eyes go to their widest as he asks, “A Reaper?! There’s a Reaper in your group!?”

“Yeah, Soots, her name’s Iron Hoof Swift, I see you two have finally met outside of that cage,” a statically voice comments from the side.

Soots jumps up in the air like a jackrabbit, bounding up in pure freight, as he spins around and faces the pony near him. “Uh.. heh… heh… Hi... B-boss…”

Swift and Handy look Gearing over as their mouths uniformly drop open. After they trail up to his sparking face mask, Swift asks, “Hard day?”

Gearing chuckles through the respirator as he says, “I’ve had worse… but it’s up there.” He points at his head with a hoof as he adds, “At least I didn’t get a couple tons of concrete and steel dropped on my head this time… again.”

“Ohhh maaan…” Soots moans as he sits down. “I’m so fucked… I’m a Reaper’s serf…”

Swift looks over at Soots, then up at Gearing as she asks, “Have you been making this poor buck do all of your errands for you?”

Soots’ head zips up to her as he brings a hoof to his lips. “Please. Don’t help! I wanna live!”

Gearing shakes his head as he snickers. “Don’t look at me; I don’t know what his deal is.”

Soots looks over at him, then at the others before he points a hoof at Gearing. “You’ve been making me follow you around and do all kinds of crazy stupid shit since you busted me out of that meat locker!”

“No I haven’t,” Gearing says flatly.

“Ya did too!” Soots retorts. He taps on the ground with a hoof as he says, “You made me help you burn the raiders.”

“You said you wanted to.”

Soots taps on the ground again. “You made me run around with cans on my tail and act like bait!”

“I asked you to be a distraction, you said yes.”

Soots taps on the ground again. “You made me scoop up pony paste, and burn the remnants!”

“You said you wanted to burn them.”

Soots taps on the ground again. “What about following you around all over the place in that building?”

“It was the safest place for you to be.”

Soots slams his hoof on the ground again, loudest of all, before he asks, “And making me follow you all the way to Megamart?! And be your errand buck by finding these two?” He throws his hoof accusationally at Swift.

“I asked you to come here so we could have a place to sort things out without having to worry about getting ambushed. So we could meet up with our friends. And, as for Swift, again, I asked, and you said okay,” Gearing replies evenly.

Swift snickers as she looks over at Soots and asks, “Wait… this whole time he’s just been asking you to do things, and you’ve simply agreed to, without question, and thought he was making you?”

“I… I didn’t want to know what would happen if I’d said ‘no’,” Soots says softly as he looks down at the ground and thinks things through.

“I woulda said thanks anyways, and goodbye,” Gearing replies flatly.

Soots scrunches up his face before he looks over at Gearing. “I really did this to myself, didn’t I?”

Gearing’s snorting laugh shorts out the speaker on his mask again before he says, “Yeah… you did.”

Soots lets out a sigh before he asks, “Are you two seriously Reapers?”

Swift grins as she says, “According to Big Daddy… yes.”

Soots looks between them as he grumbles. “Look, I don’t like this. Thanks for busting me out and all, but, really, what’s this going to cost me?” He looks over at Gearing and narrows his eyes as he says, “I don’t like having debts, and having an unidentified one to a Reaper is not something I’m willing to have over my head for the rest of my life… so… How are we going to square this up?”

Handy waves his hoof and looks away. “Don’t worry about it.”

Soots shoots him a dirty look and snips, “Considering your ass wanted to leave me in the cage to be raider chow, fucking better believe I don’t think I owe you a fucking thing.”

Swift looks at Handy, as his content smirk instantly turns to a scowl of indignation. “Awww… it’s okay… I still love you.” She leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. It works to break the scowl from his muzzle, and replaces it with a glance of bewilderment in her direction.

Gearing nods as he looks between them and Soots. “Well, a wise buck once told me never to do anything for free, if you’re really good at it…”

Soots hangs his head as he moans, “Celestia damn it, here it comes…”

“So…Here’s what I want…”

Soots looks up at him and sighs as he beckons towards Gearing with a forehoof. “Come on, let’s hear it…”

“First, I want one of your canisters of Flamer fuel. A full one. The whole thing, one you haven’t tapped into yet…”

Soots looks at him and tilts his head as he looks him over. “Well. Shit… that’s not hard at all. I still have a couple, here I can square that up right now.” He rummages in his bags, feeling the weight of the canisters and looking at the tops, before tossing one of the candy apple red metal canisters to Gearing. “There we go.”

Gearing grabs it, puts it in his saddle bag, and checks his PipBuck as he asks, “This mix have any oxidizers in it?”

Soots recoils as he says, “No way, that’s just the straight napalm mix. No oxidizers, that’s nasty stuff and I’m burnt enough already without doing it to myself!”

Gearing nods as he confirms the contents through his inventory sorter enchantment. He looks up at Soots as he points at his uniform. “I hear you Burner Boys have pretty much all of those Hoofington Fire Department jackets, that true?” Soots bobs his head around before he nods. “Okay, I want you to drop one off at Patches’ booth when you get a chance. I need one for a set of armor she’s making me.”

Soots reaches up and grabs the collar of his coat as he asks, “Want mine now?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah. You’ll probably need it, especially since your primary weapon is that flamer. Just get it to her when you get the chance, but sooner than later.”

“Easy, will have it back here in a couple days. Tops,” Soots replies with a nod of his head. “Anything else?”

“Yeah… if you really wanna consider us square… Whenever you hear about raider nests or activity, pass the info on to The Finders… and make sure it gets back here to Megamart and Bottlecap.”

Soots shakes his head, before he tilts his head and asks, “Why do you care about all of that?”

“Need I remind you what we spent half the day today doing?”

“Oh…” Soots’ eyes go wider as his legs start shaking under the fire department jacket. “You… you going to need me to come with you… too?”

Gearing leans over and tilts his head so he can look at Soots through the lenses of his mask before he asks with a gruff snort, “Do you really think I actually needed your help back there?”

“Uh… no… no you didn’t,” Soots says as he quickly avoids eye contact. “Point taken.” He nods a few times before he waves a hoof weakly at Gearing. “I’ll pass the word around… the less of those psycho cannibals there are, the better for everypony… No sweat.”

“Alright, thanks,” Gearing replies with a nod.

Soots looks him over and partially closes an eye. “That’s it? Seriously?”

“If you keep up your end of the bargain, yes. That’s it. It’ll be worth it to me, I assure you.”

Soots looks around quickly then points off to the side as he asks, “So, like, I can just get out of here then? We’re done?”

Gearing starts chuckling before he shakes his head. “Soots. I’m not a slaver… Hell… I kill slavers… Go ahead and go if you want; I’m not going to keep you. But, try not to get caught by raiders again.”

Soots waves and quickly trots off. “Sweet! I’ll see ya later then!”

They watch him walk away, and after he’s out of sight, Swift asks Gearing, “So, you kind of freaked that buck out…” She looks him over some more as she asks, “Care to explain how you look like you were mistaken for a dragon’s afternoon snack?”

Gearing shakes his head and chuckles as he says, “It’s a long story, but-“

He stops as they both look over and see the same Hoofington Fire Department uniform come back towards them.

Soots looks at them, as he’s passing and says, “I’m not pressing my luck. I’m getting a good night’s sleep before heading on.” He starts taking off his battle saddle with the flamer connected to it as he’s walking back towards a cot along the wall. “Don’t mind me.”

They stare at him as he quickly disrobes, shoves his equipment under the cot, and then plops on top of it. After a few seconds the russet brown buck with the mahogany mane starts making some coital sounding noises as he stretches out over the top of the cot.

Swift snickers as Gearing shakes his head. Then he looks over at Swift and asks, “Hey, where’s Dandy at? I got to find out how many caps I owe her.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her in hours,” Swift replies as she rubs on her head and tries to think.

A mare in a caravanner’s outfit, climbing into a cot nearby, looks over and asks, “Are you talking about that unicorn mare with the white jacket?”

Gearing and Swift look over at her and Gearing nods as he replies, “Yeah, have you seen her?”

She nods as she points over towards the stairs up to the roof. “Yeah, Doc Bonesaw had me drop off some results to her.”

Gearing and Swift nod again as Swift says, “Yeah, sounds like her, she was rather in a rush to get that sorted.”

The mare gives them a crooked smile as she says, “Yeah, well, I mean, I don’t know what’s going on, you can never tell with some mares. I mean I know far more that’d be happy about it, but, well, to each their own I suppose.”

Swift nods. “That’s true…”

“…what?” Gearing’s voice comes out in a staticky stumble as he mentally trips over her phrasing.

The mare looks at Gearing and nods as she says, “Well, Bonesaw had thought she’d be happy with the results, but, apparently not. She started bawling and wailing like a banshee as she ran off and hid up on the roof. And that’s the last I’d seen her.”

Swift’s eyes start growing wider as she asks softly, “Was that like a few hours ago?”

The caravanner nods as she settles into her cot. “Yup, that sounds about right. Why?”

Swift holds up a hoof to her mouth as she says softly, “Oh no… I thought somepony had died or something, I didn’t recognize the voice…” She looks over at Handy, “I heard her clear on the other side of Megamart!”

“And that’s how she reacted when she saw her results?” Handy asks as his mouth has a hard time staying in any position except hanging to the floor.

“Mmmhmmm… I tell ya, it’s the darndest thing I’d ever seen…” She waves a hoof dismissively as she says, “I mean there’s not taking it well, and then there’s whatever the hell that was!”

Swift and Handy slowly turn their head to look over at Gearing as the auditory void becomes palpable.

Gearing stares at the mare through his helmet in speechless contemplation for a few more seconds. He doesn’t move. Not a hair. After a few moments of complete silence from the group he gently lowers his head, raises up a hoof, and starts working on his helmet’s face mask. After it finally detaches, he looks up at the mare, and gently pulls the muzzle guard portion away, revealing his face shining underneath. He keeps his eyes closed, and takes in a long, slow, deep breath before he opens his eyes and asks with a gush, “Wot?”

She tilts her head as she says, “I knew it was hard to hear in those things… but… yeah, your friend, the unicorn mare with the white coat? She got her test results back from Bonesaw, and then com-pletely flipped out. Screaming. Crying. Stampeding to find a place to hide. The whole package.” She shrugs. “I guess you never can tell in advance with some mares how they’re going to react to the news.”

Gearing’s eyes slowly start going wider by the second as he lets out a long deep-intoned rumbling breathy growl, “Noooooooooo-”

“Uh Gearing?” Swift asks as she looks at him sheepishly.

“-oooooooooo-”

Handy sits down as he looks up at the ceiling. “Well… I guess this puts some questions to rest…” He snorts as he says, “It’s a messed up way to find it out though…”

“-oooooooooooooo-”

“I mean, if that’s the case, it’s pretty definitive: Dandy was right,” Handy adds with a smirk.

“-ooooooo-”

Handy looks at Swift. “That reaction too… should I like… buy some cigars or something? I mean… that’s an appropriate gift, right?”

“-ooooooooooooooo-”

Swift puts her hooves to her muzzle as she looks at Handy. “Oh, Sweet Celestia, I feel like shit!”

“-ooooo-”

“After all that teasing, I mean!”

“-oooooooooo-”

“It was only funny because I didn’t think it was possible, but now… oh god…”

“-oooooooooooooooo-”

“G-Gearing…?”

“-oooooo-”

“Are you okay, Gearing?” Swift asks with growing concern in her voice.

“-oooooooooooooo-”

Swift looks over at Handy with her hooves still covering her mouth as she sheepishly smirks, “I think the news broke his brain…”

“-oooooooooo-”

“That’s some lung capacity there.” The caravanner smirks as she lays down and looks at Gearing as he mentally short circuits.

“-ooooooo-”

Handy walks over, and drapes his foreleg over Gearing’s shoulders as he says, “It’s okay, Gearing. You won’t be alone in this. Okay? I’ve already been in your shoes, and we’ll help you through this.”

“-ooooooooooooooo-”

“Both of you,” Swift adds quickly as she stands up and gets on the other side of Gearing.

“-oooooooooo-”

“Oh damn, he’s stuck good…” Swift looks around Gearing at Handy and asks, “Hey, how’d you break yourself out of that mental breakdown when you heard?”

“-oooooo-”

“If I remember correctly, I think you kissed me and practically sucked out my lungs through my muzzle so I had to stop freaking out or I’d pass out…” Handy replies as he rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“-oooooooooo-”

Swift looks at Gearing’s vacant thousand yard stare, and then back at Handy as she shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s going to help in this case…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In reflex to his absolute panic at what is going on, Gearing activates SATS and tries to cheat the universe by giving himself time to think. To respond. But that’s not helping in the least as his mind is completely short circuiting at every possible level at what has been dropped on his head. Multi tons of concrete and steel, he can handle. Though painful, it could be managed. But this? This? No. He can’t handle this. No training or reading could prepare him for something so unexpected and out of the ordinary.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head bursts a foreleg through the surface of his mind, then starts crawling and scrambling out of the filth and muck like a zompony climbing out of a soggy grave.

The little blue pegasus looks around with eyes that are solid white and lifeless as it mutters, “Not possible… not possible… no… not possible…”

The little blue pegasus trots over, dropping feathers from its body, before it grabs a cloud from Gearing’s mental space, and flips it end over end until it turns into a table covered in books. He flops down and starts mindlessly pushing one book after another over until it grabs one on equine biology and starts ripping pages out one after another.

“Not possible, not possible, not possible…” It groans as it pulls the pages out. It grabs a couple hooffuls of ripped out pages, and starts cramming them into its mouth as it noisily chews. “Nawt pawthiboo…”

No, it’s not! I don’t have any swimmers, that shit’s been tested, repeatedly, how is this possible?! Biology. Science. Research. Testing. The scientific method! It all says this isn’t possible!

What the fuck is this?!

“Nawt pawthiboo, nawt pawthiboo, nawt pawthiboo,” the little blue pegasus in his head chants as it munches on sheet after sheet of completely useless knowledge.

I didn’t go through the ceremony, and you can’t accidentally go through the ceremony. This couldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening! I was still metal!

“Nawt pawthiboo,” the little blue pegasus zompony agrees.

Does this mean Mom was wrong and I could have been impregnating mares this entire time?!

“Scaway thawt,” the zompony agrees.

Oh fuck, how many foals could I have left behind? How many of my descendants are still around? There could be hundreds! Thousands even!

“Ith werth den dat,” the zompony chimes in as it starts chewing on the book itself.

How could this possibly get any worse?!

The zompony spits out a wad of chewed up paper before it says, “Remember that one unicorn mare’s chaperon…”

OH… oh god… You don’t mean…?

The zompony shrugs as it starts throwing books around everywhere. “If we’re throwing out the fucking rules of the universe, then, why not?! Yes! Her!”

Oh god… and the others…

“Yeah, all the others…”

I don’t think that’s possible, otherwise I’d have a bunch of mutant reptilian clockwork children running around! A whole clutch of them at least!

“Well this isn’t supposed to be possible, but, a pear ant lee, it is!” The little blue pegasus starts hopping around as feathers and fur flops off with each hop. “Yeah, just fuck the whooooole universe, knock it all up. It’s been fucking us hard long enough, let’s repay the favor! Hell, start fucking the ground and see what crops up from that! Maybe you can get Equus itself pregnant with one of your mutant clockwork foals!”

This can’t be happening, it can’t! Gearing whimpers into his head space. I didn’t sign up for this shit!

The little blue pegasus in his head waves a hoof at him as he says, “See, this is what we get for talking shit all the time and cracking jokes about it not being our problem. That we can’t. That we’re sterile. That it’s all good and fine. You know what they call this shit?!” It hops and stamps its hooves as it growls, “Tempting fate! You should have knew better, but nooooo… Now we’re getting bitch slapped with some karmic justice for all of our jokes!”

This can’t be happening!

“Oh, it’s happening!”

NO!

“Daddy!”

Nnooooo!!!

“Father!”

Nooo- ooo -ooo -oo…

“Pappa!”

He whimpers as he cries out into the void of his mental space, Nooooo.

“Sperm donor!”

Dammit, if I was going to magically knock up some mare, why couldn’t it have been Sable? She actually wants foals! And I barely know Dandy!

“Again, Karmic fate, that’s why!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“-oooooooooo-”

“Oh shit, what are we gonna do?”

“-oooooo-”

“Well, it’s kinda funny, but…”

“-oooooooooooooo-”

“Yeah, but ponies are going to be trying to sleep soon… How long can this buck keep going like this?” the caravanner mare asks.

“-OOOOoooooooo…” Gearing finally finishes his long panicky denial of the universe with a slow wind down into sub audible ranges like a toy with a battery that is dying.

Gearing suddenly realizes SATS wore off a while ago, he'd just been too stuck in his own head space to notice, and now he’s surrounded by over half a dozen ponies, all of them looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Swift and Handy are still on either side of him. But the mare in the caravanner outfit had gotten out of her cot and got close enough to stare at his face as they try to get his attention. Several other ponies sit around, watching, that he’d never seen before. But the tan mare at the entryway of the Megamart Motel he recognizes as one of Megamart’s Security.

The tan mare waves a hoof as she asks, “Has he snapped out of it? Bonesaw’s on his way.”

“G-Gearing?” Swift asks as she slides around to get in front of him so her face takes up the majority of his cone of vision.

He still hasn’t moved a millimeter, but he’s no longer belting out the long same chord. And they aren’t sure if that’s an improvement, or signs of things getting worse.

Swift waves her hoof in front of his eyes, trying to get some kind of reaction, before she leans in even closer. “Helloooo… Gearing? You there?”

Gearing takes in a long deep breath, and the caravanner mare takes a step back as she groans, “That fucking lung capacity, he’s probably just recharging for another flat solo…”

Gearing slowly turns his head, and then gingerly takes a step forward. “Dandy… I gotta go talk to… Dandy.” He tries to take a step forward, but rocks a bit. With each step he takes, he rocks forward, like he’s going to step, but then rocks back a bit, before rocking forward yet again and completing the single step cycle. He continues this slow jerky walking pattern, with his legs sometimes even crossing each other awkwardly as he makes his way out of the Megamart motel. The others step back and away from him as he makes his way out and into the main walkway.

Swift flutters after him as she asks, “You want me to go with you?”

“N-no… not now… we… we need to talk… I did this, I need to make sure she’s okay,” Gearing mutters as he turns and heads towards the stairway up to the roof.

They all watch him walk away, and Soots comments from the back after he’s gone, “Holy fuck, I swear it looked like his brain threw a gear or something!” He starts chuckling as he looks around. “Who’d have thought a tough bastard like that could have been brought to a grinding halt by just some unexpected news."

Bonesaw trots in passed the tan security mare, floating a bag in front of himself, as he asks, “Where’s he at? What’s wrong?”

Handy looks over at him and waves it away. “He’s fine, Doc, thanks for coming though. He finally snapped out of it and left.”

Bonesaw looks around as he asks, “Well, what happened? Ponies don’t just lock up and start singing a solitary note for so long without something seriously wrong. Like brain damage or something.”

Swift turns and sheepishly smiles as she says, “He just got… some unexpected news.”

Bonesaw raises an eyebrow as he asks, “What could have been so bad to cause a catatonic state?”

Soots starts giggling as he sits down and holds his stomach with one forehoof. “Apparently he found out he accidentally knocked a mare up, and he wasn’t expecting to be a daddy!” He shakes his head as he laughs some more. “Funniest shit I’ve ever seen, I’ll tell ya!”

“That’s … a strange reaction…” Bonesaw squints his eyes at Soots as he tries to figure out if he’s being pranked or something.

“Well… according to his marefriend, he’s gone his whole life not being able to have kids, even though she wants them,” Swift replies as she lands next to Handy and keeps looking in the direction Gearing had left in. “So, now he’s probably having to reevaluate his entire life at this point…”

Bonesaw looks over at her and asks, “I don’t see the problem then, you’d think he’d be happy about it? If he wanted a family I mean…”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Swift says with a giggle. She looks over at Bonesaw and points a hoof towards Gearing’s direction. “The one he knocked up… wasn’t … his marefriend.”

Bonesaw’s eyes go wide as he says, “Oooohhh.”

“Yeah, and… his actual marefriend… is the jealous type… like… willing, and able, to ash anyone that even seems like they are getting a bit too much of his attention,” Handy adds with a smirk.

Bonesaw’s eyes go to their absolute widest as he starts putting the pieces together rapidly. “Ooooooohhhh!”

The caravanner mare looks over at Bonesaw as she scowls. “Dammit, now don’t you start too!”

* * *

As Gearing is slowly climbing the steps, with one slow deliberate hoof at a time, his SATS recharges enough that he can activate it again.

So, trying to put this off as long as mentally possible, he takes the cowards way out, and activates it again. Again the world distorts as time seems to slow down, but, in reality, his own processing ability has been sped up to help him perceive and react to things with the aid of Stable-Tec’s enchantment.

But, this isn’t like the middle of a combat situation where he’s surrounded by targets that he can line up progressive shots on. This isn’t a foe that he can blow to Tartarus, nor pummel into submission. This is life. A musical score that will continue on despite his complaints. This one part is just a particularly sour note to this accompaniment.

Again his logical mind bashes and crashes against the wall of reality. The seemingly inexorable march of what’s been presented to him. It shouldn’t be possible. It shouldn’t. Everything. His very existence is a monument to that impossibility. His kind simply aren’t allowed that facet of life without a whole lot of flank kissing.

Want to know why so many prefer sweet treats over salty? Assume the position.

Want to know what a kiss tastes like? Assume the position.

Dare to have aspirations for a family?

Assume.

The.

Position.

After countless years of that being the case, there’s no reasonable explanation for them to suddenly change the rules. Outside of wanting to screw with him in particular. But, again, narcissism and self loathing aside, even that doesn’t make any sense.

If he wants children, he has to prostrate himself before their mightiness, and grovel. And it’s not a one and done task either. Nope. Because that would be too kind. His mother is a perfect example of that. She was very open with how long it took her to finally conceive even doing everything she was supposed to do to make it happen. She’d even warned him that he’d want to get started as soon as possible because it would likely take a few times.

The differences between mares’ cycles and males’ notwithstanding.

He and his mother argued about it regularly. Usually with him intentionally cutting her off, if not outright leaving, whenever she brought it up. She was sure it was just a rebellious phase. That one day he’d feel the need himself. The desire. Like she did.

But he always took it as her not really understanding him, nor how much he truly hated what they were.

At some point he acknowledged that the universe as a whole didn’t want his family line to continue anymore. That it would prefer he didn’t exist at all. It must, given all it constantly threw at him. So he decided to at least go along with part of it. If he’s not allowed to have a normal life, children, happiness, fine. There’s no point in fighting a pointless battle that you’re never going to win anyway.

But then what in the name of all that is green and good in the world is this?!

A line pops up in his mind’s eye. One that he’d read in a scientific journal focused on research and discovery. And the often overlooked powers of the process of elimination.

When you have eliminated answers for being impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the true solution.

Even when he first read it, he realized the apparent hole in the logic, as it didn’t take into account things that had yet to be discovered yet. But, at the same time, it wasn’t really a hole. As, upon closer inspection, he realized you can’t eliminate a solution, that you haven’t even considered yet.

The little blue pegasus hops around in his mind’s eye as it starts throwing up posters for him to consider.

Fact of life #1:

Clockworks are not allowed to procreate whenever they wish.

Fact of life #2:

I’ve never made the effort.

If / Then clause:

If no effort, then no foals.

Counter Point:

Dandy is apparently pregnant

Additional:

I’m the only male she’s been with in over a year.

Supplementary:

She does not wish to be pregnant, and actively tried to avoid it.

Ergo:

Nonstandard situation and an outlier answer.

Summation:

…whatever remains, however IMPROBABLE, must be the true solution.

There must be something else going on. Something I haven’t thought of…

The little blue pegasus in his head cringes as he says, “She could simply be trying to say it’s ours, knowing it’s not, for some reason… Wouldn’t be the first to try that kind of deceit with some random buck, for whatever personal gain reasons.”

Gearing brushes the idea, and the little blue pegasus in his head, aside. No, that can’t be it. Though it can’t be ruled out one hundred percent. Her actions at the Police Headquarters… She’s a really prideful mare. And it took a lot of pride swallowing for her to confront me like that. In the middle of a shoot out nonetheless.

“The only other options are either the rules changing, or we never really understood the rules correctly from the very start,” the little blue pegasus retorts.

Between the two, I don’t know which is the worse possibility.

The world returns to normal around Gearing as the spell loses its grip on his mind and SATS starts recharging. As he’s slowly climbing the stairs he has another thought creep through his mind. In between the constant thrashing in his mind going from ‘This can’t be!’ to ‘Well it is!’ another thought makes itself known. What if. Just. If.

What if he’s lived long enough that the magic that’s keeping the curse active in his body is finally dissipating. There hasn’t been a single clockwork that’s lived as long as him, as far as he’s aware. So, maybe he’s simply outlived the curse. Nothing lasts forever, right? So, it’s not in the realm of impossibility that that could be the solution.

That he’s living long enough, that he is, in fact, actually becoming a stallion. A real life, flesh and blood, stallion.

Though it does make him wonder how it could be possible that the first things that come back, would be his studding equipment. That doesn’t make any sense. But then, little in the universe makes sense when you factor clockworks into the mix.

As he steps out onto the roof he looks around, and stuffs the mental clouds back into the void of space in his mind where distracting thoughts belong. All of this conjecture is going to get him nowhere. He needs to figure it out, but it’s going to require more study and testing. But, he can’t do that now. So even thinking about it is a waste of resources. Especially when he has so much he has to do now.

Like talking with and checking on the mare whose life he’s probably ruined for her.

He twirls his ears around as he tries to listen and see where she could be. He even flicks on his EFS momentarily to see if that helps him, but with all of the ponies down below it was an exercise in futility.

But the muffled sniffling that makes his ears snap to and triangulate a point not far away near an ancient air cycling unit on the roof gives him far more to work with.

Gearing slowly walks over, and then stalks around the edges of the air circulator until he finds what he’s looking for.

On the other side, hidden away from anypony else that might have come up for a bit of fresh air or whatever other reason, Dandy lays curled up with her head resting on her crossed forehooves as she sniffles periodically.

Gearing takes a step towards her, but, to avoid startling her, calls out softly, “Dandy?”

Dandy lifts her head up, and turns her head towards him. Instantly, even in the dim light of the roof, it’s plain to see how red and puffy her eyes are from her ongoing crying fit. She looks up at him, and stares at his shining brass muzzle. “Oh… Geeaaariiiiing…” she whimpers pitifully as she looks up at him and sniffles.

Gearing slowly walks towards her as he takes off his helmet and drops it to the side. “It’ll be okay, Dandy…”

“Noooo, it woooon’t,” Dandy moans as she covers her face with her forehooves.

Gearing walks over and sits next to her, carefully, as she hunkers down and hides her face. “I said I’ll take care of everything, remember?”

She lets out a long low moan before she asks, “So… you heard?”

Gearing lets out a soft chuckle as he nudges her shoulder with a hoof. “Yeah… I did… Apparently you made quite the spectacle of yourself when you found out too…”

“Oh… dammit… I did, didn’t I?” Dandy groans as she tries to bury his face under her hooves even more but there’s just nothing more to hide behind.

“So… how much do I owe for the test?” Gearing asks as he smiles down at her.

She waves it away with a hoof as she replies, “Don’t worry about it…”

“Well, I said I would. And I promised I’d help,” Gearing says softly.

“You big sweet jerk…” Dandy groans out through sniffles as she scoots closer, and wraps her forelegs around one of his as she tries to hide her face under his foreleg.

He gently lifts his leg, and repositions it, so he can hold her with it. Earning him a groan of appreciation as she nuzzles into the position. “Dandy?”

“What, Gearing?”

“Remember what we talked about?”

She lets out a long low grumble and curls up more, practically covering her face with her tail as she curls up into a tight ball. She lets a gush of air out forcefully in an agitated sigh before she says, “Yeaaaaah? What about it?”

Gearing leans down and rests the side of his cheek against the side of her head as he says quietly, “I know how scared and embarrassed you are about it… And… Honestly I’ve been caught off guard too… but… I want to let you know, I’m sorry.”

She waves at him blindly and mumbles into his armored leg, “Dun worry ‘bout it…”

He lets out a sigh as he closes his eyes. “And, if you don’t want to go through with it, because you’re scared, or whatever, I won’t blame you. That’s a lot to have to have to suffer through for something you don’t want…”

She brushes her tail out of her face as she looks up at him with one eye and asks, “What?”

“Well… I know you have options… but...” He gently nuzzles her. “If you want to… or are willing to, go through with it… and want to keep it… I’ll support you the entire way.” She starts pulling back and looks at him muzzle to muzzle and he smiles lightly as he says, “And if you just want to dump it off on me, and go about your own life, well… like I said, either way I’ll accept full responsibility… and I’ll support whatever you choose…”

Dandy blinks a few times as she stares him in the eye. She wipes some snot from her nose as she asks, “What are you talking about?”

Gearing gently waves towards her middle with his other foreleg as he says, “You know… the baby…”

Her eyes shoot open to their fullest as she stares at him with her mouth hanging open loosely.

He smiles at her and shakes his head. “Dandy, I’m not the kind of buck that’d make that kind of promise, then just skip out. This is my mistake. I don’t know how it happened… but… if that’s where we are, that’s where we are. And I’ll help you deal with it. I promised I would.”

“Y-you mean… you’d actually…?”

Gearing nods. “I’ll take care of you both…” He dips his head before waving his other foreleg at her and giving a sheepish smile. “If you’ll let me… that is… I mean… I know you can handle yourself… but… We already agreed, so…”

Her eyes start sparkling more as the tears well up to the point of blurring her vision before she hops over, wraps her forelegs around his foreleg as she scoots against him and into his embrace even more, and then holds on for dear life. She rubs the side of her head against his leg as she chokes and moans, “Ya… ya big shiny dumb jerk!” She smashes her face against his upper foreleg as she asks with a near whine, “Why’d you have to go and say some shit like that for?!”

Gearing pulls her closer to him as he cranes his neck down to look at her. “I know it’s not exactly what either of us had in mind. Trust me, I get that it’s scary. I’m not trying to make light of it. But, we’ll get through it. I can promise you that.” He reaches down and puts a hoof under her chin. Then gently raises it and directs her to look him in the eyes before he says softly, “It’ll be okay, Dandy. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Oh… Gearing…” She sniffles a few more times before turning and nuzzling his hoof.

“It’ll be okay…”

She lets out a sigh before she hangs her head and says, after a particular loud choking snort sound escapes her muzzle first, “Gearing, that’s sweet… but you don’t get it...”

Gearing shakes his head and leans closer to her as he says, “I know. It’s new territory for me too. But I’ll figure it out. Please trust me…”

“I do…” Dandy says with a moan that sounds like it’s a hair’s width away from turning into another full blown crying fit. “It’s just…”

“What is it, Dandy? Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.”

Dandy lets out a sigh before she looks up at him in the eye and nuzzles his hoof as he tenderly caresses her cheek with it and smiles at her. Then she shakes her head and pulls away a bit as she sniffles, and finally manages to choke out, “The test.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, Gearing, you don’t understand…” She turns back to face him as she adds, “I’m not pregnant.”

“What?” Gearing asks as his eyes jump wide.

Simultaneously the world around him comes to a screeching halt as he instinctively activates SATS, mid conversation, again.

He takes in the look of the pain and sadness in her eyes as she looks at him. The fur on her face is as damp and matted from moisture as if she’d been caught in a Hoofington rainstorm. But, it’s all from tears.

The little blue pegasus in his head hops out of the pile of chewed up books as it asks, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!?” A moment later it points at her and asks, “Did she just say what the hell I think she said?! That she’s not pregnant?”

Yeah, that’s what I heard too.

“But that makes no sense!”

What part of any of this makes any sense!?

“Then why is she crying?!”

I don’t know!

“Why has she been crying this whole time then?!”

I. Don’t. Know!

“Well, figure it out, this shit’s important!”

Gearing prematurely ends the spell, leaving about half the charge left to hop back into his own headspace if he needs to as he stares at Dandy with complete confusion evident across his muzzle.

Dandy closes her eyes and sniffles as she waves a hoof weakly at the door downstairs. “The test results… they came back… negative… I’m. Not. Pregnant. Gearing…”

Again the world slows down as he hops into SATS again.

What in the unholy fucking hell is going on here?!

“Well, if the test came back negative, that would be pretty solid with everything else.”

It would also explain more than a few things.

“Fuck explaining things, the world, the universe would make sense again!”

Yeah, that’s some pretty high stakes…

“I told you it wasn’t possible! Science doesn’t lie! HAH!”

Shit, I jumped out before finding out why she was crying.

“Idiot.”

I know!

The world turns back to normal as he drains another good portion of his charge of SATS.

Gearing lets out a sigh before he asks, “So… you’re not pregnant?” She shakes her head quickly. “But… you ran up here after reading the results?” She nods and hangs her head. Gearing leans over and looks at her face, trying to read something in her expression, but her eyes are closed, tightly, and she’s giving off nothing but utter sadness and defeat. Gearing uses a hoof and gently pushes her short blue tinted black mane out of her face as he asks, “Then… Why are you crying? I thought that’d have made you happy, you’d basically said getting pregnant would be the worst thing to happen to your life…?”

Dandy shakes her head as she turns sideways, and looks away from him. “Geariiiing… I don’t knoooow… okaaaaay?” She flops down on the roof again, resting her chin on her crossed forehooves as she says, “It’s not your problem, it’s mine…” She takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a snort before she says, “I got myself all worked up… and it started stirring up shit inside me that I didn’t even know was there. Shit that’d probably been better to just stay where it lay. And suddenly the thought of having a foal wasn’t so scary, but something that actually gave me the warm and fuzzies and… maybe… maybe something I’d have liked… But… then.” She turns her head and rubs her face in her forelegs as she groans. “Then it was nothing. Nothing at all… I’d just got myself worked up, again, over nothing.” She waves a hoof at him, swatting at him repeatedly until she does finally start making contact on his metallic foreleg. “And then your big dumb shiny ass had to show up and be all sweet and promise to take care of me instead of running away, and suddenly that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing either, to have somepony else looking out for me, and I don’t know how to deal with that!” She swats him a few more times blindly as she says, “It’s just a whole trainload of emotions I need to unpack and I don’t know how to deal with any of them! Uhg!” She swats him again, and harder, as she adds, “And a good portion of this nonsense is your fault, just so you know!” She swats him hard enough that she shakes her hoof afterward from hurting herself as she says, “Big ole golden bubble butt butt head!”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before he asks, “Is… there anyway I can help?”

She buries her face in her forelegs again before she says stubbornly, “I don’t want to talk about it, Gearing.”

“Okay,” Gearing replies flatly.

He activates SATS as he looks at her huddled there and curling up in front of him in her own misery.

“Well, that’s confusing as fuck,” the little blue pegasus in his head comments as it walks around cleaning up the mess in his headspace this has caused. “At least the world makes sense now. I mean, it’s back to sucking at full tilt, but at least it’s a suck that makes sense.”

The world has never made sense. The more I try to understand it, the worse it just seems to get.

“Yeah, like her crying about getting what she wanted, but then didn’t want it, only to want it, but not want to want it?” the little blue pegasus says as it taps on its pinions and tries to follow along with the train of logic.

Hey, mares are weird, what can I say.

“Always have been, always will be.”

Mares confuse the shit out of me… Gearing mentally admits.

He drops out of SATS again, as the charge has entirely burned out this time, and is greeted by Dandy groaning out, “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Gearing.”

“Okay,” Gearing replies flatly.

They sit there for a few moments before she snorts and says, “I said I don’t want to talk to you!” Gearing doesn’t reply. At all. And a few moments later she turns her head to see if he’s still there or if he’s snuck off, only to find that he hasn’t moved a single millimeter. She buries her face again and groans, “You don’t need to sit here and watch me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Dandy,” Gearing replies softly.

A few seconds later a raindrop falls and hits Dandy on her nose. Her eyes open and the first strike on her snoot was only the introduction before it starts turning into a miserable drum roll. She closes her eyes as she snorts, “Rain. Figures. Yeah, suits my mood… Come on you feathered bastards… do your worst…”

The rain seems to happily take the invitation, as it starts pouring down in a steady stinging stream all over the area so thick that visibility starts getting cut down to a few paces. Dandy’s eyes slowly open as she hears the torrential downpour starting up, but can’t help but notice one thing: the complete lack of impacts against her.

She trails her eyes up to see how it could possibly be that the rain is coming down so hard, but she’s not completely soaked to the bone already.

And she instantly recognizes the glittering glint of green poking through some kind of rubbery material above her. She trails it over, and a smile crosses her muzzle as she chokes out, “You big dumb sweet idiot…” She wipes her muzzle with the back of her fetlock as she looks around and sees how Gearing is using his wings to shield her from the rain, but pretty much standing out in it himself.

She crawls closer to him, getting closer to his body and under the widest part of his wings as she smiles up at him. She wipes her eyes with the back of her fetlock as she chokes out, on the verge of tears again, “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

Gearing gives her a warm smile as he says, “Yeah… I can be a real asshole sometimes, can’t I?”

Footnote: Error . . .

Parity check failure . . .

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!!Compartmentalization Protocol Initiated!

!!!Lockdown Commencing!

64 Road to Discovery

After coaxing Dandy off of the roof, and into a proper bed, at least as much as you can call one of Megamart motel’s cots a ‘proper bed’, Gearing spends the rest of his nocturnal hours trying to work on his equipment. There’s only so much he can do, and, wanting to use available resources wisely, he spends most of the time working on the helmet and muzzle guard.

As far as armourers are concerned, Patches is fantastic, and Gearing knows it. He fully appreciates her skill, and how she’s more than earned her reputation. But, just as giving credit where credit is due is important, recognizing weaknesses is also important.

And Patches’ skill with electronics is sorely lacking in Gearing’s opinion.

She’s not an inept idiot by his count; far from it. Her skill and knowledge is high enough that she was able to correctly recognize his ridiculous modifications to the electronics for what they were. Which, in doing so, confirmed her own skill to him. But the helmet requires a bit more finesse than most ponies would be able to do. And Patches simply isn’t one of the exceptions. Then there’s the fact that he’s made so many out of standard modifications to it that most, even those who dedicate themselves to the study, can’t figure out how he makes and repairs things the way he does. But, somehow, his ability to use second rate parts and Jury Rigging it all together has never let him down.

And expecting others to try and follow along with his chaotic crafting methods would be too much.

So he focuses his energies on doing the most complicated part of the repair, by piecing the muzzle guard and face mask back together, and leaving the parts that Patches can do, where her particular strengths are, for her to focus on. And he stays on task until he gets a message from Swift asking him to meet her and Handy at the Happy Trails Trading Company’s booth.

Given that Patches seems to be running late to open up for the day, he quickly jots down a note for her and heads out.

Since his armor had been wrecked, again, he’s reduced to wearing his ratty mottled blanket turned cloak, again, to try and hide his ridiculously shiny body. By the time he got back to Megamart, he’d already healed up the damage he’d suffered through during the previous day’s struggles. Thanks to his implants. But with so many holes put in the wing sleeves, lots of green crystal pieces ended up loose and jingling around inside instead of being reabsorbed by being healed back into position.

Resulting in quite a pile of green glass-like fragments spilling out when he finally took the suit off to begin working on it. But, he did a good job of cleaning up after himself. He doesn’t want Patches, or anycreature else for that matter, to get a green splinter in their foot. That’s how you get people really annoyed with you really quickly.

But that’s to say nothing of what might happen if anyone pays more than average attention to it, and actually realizes what it really is. The problems that could unleash are in a realm Gearing wants no part of.

As Gearing is getting close to the booth in question, he can see Swift sitting back watching as Handy seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the cot this morning. Judging by the massive scowl chiseled across his muzzle.

Gearing vectors towards Swift and asks as he steps up next to her, “Hey, Swift, what’s going on? I thought you and Handy were going to take care of the exchange?” He looks around as he adds, “I’d have figured Dandy would be here too…”

Swift waves her hoof away towards the other end of the aisle as she shrugs. “Dandy apparently stopped by earlier and cashed in her contract, but she had to go deal with some stuff for her company. As for this…” She waves a hoof towards Handy, who’d turned around to look at him as soon as he heard Gearing’s voice.

Surprising to Gearing, Handy actually smiles at seeing the mottled ratty blanket and steps back as he waves a hoof towards the inside of the booth. “Great! You’re here! Would you please talk some sense into this buck about going and rescuing him?”

Gearing walks around and next to Handy, eyeballing him sideways as he finds the apparent change in attitude unsettling at best. When he directs his view back into the booth, he sees Lodestar sitting on a pile of fabric turned lounge chair with one of his forelegs held closely to his body with a sling and encompassed with a thick framed metal brace. For the first time Gearing actually looks at him, and sees him as more than just a simple being that needed quick extraction. His identity had already been confirmed by others, so he didn’t spend much time on it. Had he actually thought about it, he would have realized a few of the descriptions did not match up at the time.

Lodestar’s royal blue coat shines with excellent health and care, as does his ridiculous powder blue mane. Previously he’d been covered in so much filth that he’d looked more like soggy bog sediment instead of a pony. Lodestar’s baby blue eyes shift side to side as they go from looking at Handy, to back at the newcomer: Gearing. And the frown across his muzzle just appears to grow even wider as he sees yet another pony seemingly coming up to have the exact same tiresome conversation with him.

Recognizing that, and knowing how much he loathes dealing with Handy himself, Gearing decides to go another route.

“Hey, Lodestar, good to see you finally awake. How are you feeling?” Gearing motions with his chin towards him as he asks, “What’s up with the brace? Bonesaw not able to get it fixed right?”

Lodestar looks over at him as he tilts his head. Then a smile creeps across his muzzle before he shakes his head. “Thanks, but, really, I probably feel even worse than I look. The leg’s pretty bad off. I’m going to need to pay a visit to the Collegiate to have them do some proper surgery on it.” He shakes his head as he frowns with disgust. “I know a hydra injection could probably fix it right up, but I don’t want any of that shit in my system… I’d rather suffer and wait for proper treatment.”

Gearing chuckles before he says, “Yeah, well, at least you have options… Mine are limited to natural healing, or magical. There’s not a chem or shot on Equus that’d do me any good.”

Lodestar looks him over as he says quietly, “Yeah… well… something tells me you wouldn’t need it as readily as I would.”

“You’d be surprised,” Swift comments as she smirks and looks off to the side where a pair of mares, with different colored streaks of paint in their manes and small black boxes sitting in foreleg holsters, chatter with a shopkeeper and haggle over some two hundred year old prepackaged snacks.

Lodestar regards Swift for a moment, before he looks over at Gearing. “Like I was telling your friends, this is two separate issues. Not the same thing.”

Gearing tilts his head for a moment, then sits down and motions for him to continue. “Okay, how about this… pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about, and like I just walked in on the conversation… What two things are you talking about?”

“He’s saying us going and rescuing him has nothing to do with us getting the parts that we need,” Handy says with a scowl as he looks at Gearing.

Gearing looks at Handy for a moment, but redirects his attention towards Lodestar as the royal blue buck clarifies, “You coming and rescuing me was one contract. Its own contract. You’ve completed that, and payment has already been set aside for you. But, that’s all that was agreed on. And I’m not turning everything over just because of that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. I’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you all. I’m not denying that. But I lost nearly everything getting this information. I can’t just turn it over, or their deaths will have been for nothing.”

“Information?” Gearing asks as he looks back and forth between the two.

“He doesn’t actually have the parts,” Swift chimes in. “All he has is the location of a recently abandoned stable that should have everything we need.”

Lodestar nods as he looks between them. “And it apparently collapsed long ago, but has only recently been actually opened. No one’s touched it yet. So it’s a cap mine just waiting to be harvested.”

“So we’re still going to have to go and get all of the stuff ourselves!” Handy interrupts.

“Yes, you will, but if I go in there with a team, we’re taking everything and you better believe the prices will reflect the added labor and transport,” Lodestar snips.

“So why not just give us the location then, if it’d save you all the work, and we have to do all of that ourselves anyway?” Handy asks as he stubbornly folds his forehooves across his chest and sits down on his haunches.

“Because you’ve already been paid!” Lodestar grumbles as he narrows his eyes.

“Then why not just give us the location, instead of the caps, for the rescue?” Handy asks with a snort.

“Because I didn’t put the contract out, and you’ve already been paid.”

“But the whole purpose we went and got you was to get access to the parts we need!” Handy complains with a near whine in his voice.

“And you have access now! If I died in that place, the stable would stay buried and you wouldn’t get it. But since you got me out, which you’ve already been paid for, we can actually make a deal now,” Lodestar retorts. He looks between them as he adds, “I’m not trying to rob you, but, you have to understand, with everypony we lost, we have to at least make it worth it for them and their family. I can’t just say they died for nothing. Getting this info was the main reason we went all the way down there.” He looks at Gearing and adds, “They wouldn’t be dead right now if we didn’t.”

“They wouldn’t be dead right now if their guide hadn’t led them straight into an ambush,” Handy grumbles as he looks off to the side and snorts. He lets out a yelp of pain a split second later as Swift’s PipBuck comes down and bops him on the head.

“Knock that shit off, Handy,” Swift scolds as she stares at him with not a lick of sympathy.

Gearing can’t help but notice the rollercoaster of emotions cascading over Lodestar’s face at Handy’s remark. It hurts so much because there’s at least some truth to it. At least Lodestar feels that way, given the crushing guilt taking up residence among Lodestar’s features. He lets out a long sigh as he feels a bit of camaraderie with the royal blue buck in the spirit of sucky guilt.

“Handy, Swift,” Gearing starts as he looks over at them. “We need the parts. The only option was Lodestar. We’d waited days… The only reason we took the job to go find him, was to find out the information that he had.” He waves a hoof towards Lodestar. “He’s right. These are two separate issues. Us going and rescuing him, was a job. A job that we did and are being paid for.” He looks over at Lodestar, who nods in agreement, before he continues, “He still has the knowledge we need. And we still need to do something to get that knowledge from him.” He shrugs as he says, “If he’d never been captured, we’d still have to find a way to get it from him. So, yes, they are two separate issues. But, maybe, considering everything, he’d be willing to give us what we need at a discount, or at least work with us.”

Lodestar nods repeatedly as he says, “That’s exactly what I was trying to say, thank you.”

Gearing waves a hoof at Lodestar as he looks at Handy. “Besides, even if not, he lost his entire convoy to get this for us. If we try to take even that from him, I wouldn’t feel like we’re any better than the raiders. That’s really extortiony.”

“M-Melon?” Lodestar asks softly. “Melon Patch? I- I thought she’d made it out?”

Gearing looks at him and lets out a long sigh before he says softly, “I’m sorry Lodestar… but she didn’t make it out alive.” He waves a hoof towards the front of Megamart as he says, “I brought her body back and turned her over to Keystone. So she can be buried or whatever…” He shakes his head. “If nothing else, I wasn’t going to just leave her there for those animals.”

Lodestar hangs his head as he says softly, “So… that’s why Keystone stopped by this morning and Happy Trails took off with her but wouldn’t tell me where she was going…”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gearing repeats quietly.

Handy lowers his hooves from holding his sore head to cover his face as he mutters, “I don’t know if it’s the concussion my wife just gave me, or what, but… that’s actually making sense…”

Lodestar nods as he’s still obviously lost in thought.

Gearing waves towards him as he leans in. “So, Lodestar, what did you have in mind?” Lodestar looks up at him and raises an eyebrow so Gearing clarifies, “You have the info we need to get the parts we need… So, what were you thinking of doing in trade so we can get what we need? What would be worth it to you?” He tilts his head, revealing his brassy snout as he adds, “If you’d factor in us saving your ass, and how much it cost us to do that, into that equation, it would be appreciated… Some sort of commensurately appropriate discount even…” He waves with a forehoof again. “I’ll leave that up to you to decide what’s appropriate though.”

Lodestar lets out a sigh as he rubs his injured leg with his good foreleg’s fetlock. “I was thinking of an information swap.” He looks up at Gearing and nods. “You go pick up some information for me, that I pretty much already know where it is, and I’ll trade you what I know, for what you find out.” Be bobs his head around. “And then, when you’re done getting whatever parts you need out of the stable, I’d appreciate it if you let me know what’s left, and anything else you find out about it.” He looks around at Swift and Handy as he adds, “Because if you don’t take it, someone else will, eventually, sooner than later I’d wager.”

Handy lets out a sigh as he eyeballs Lodestar. “So, if you already know where this information you want is, why haven’t you already gotten it?”

Gearing waves toward Handy with a hoof and nods as he adds, “Fair point… Well?”

Lodestar looks at Gearing and smirks as he says, “Well, because it’s got some pretty decent security lockouts to get access to the database. I could find and hire someone to crack it for me, eventually…” He grins as he adds, “But considering you broke through the security on a government issued computer to get the motor pool door open as quickly as you did, I bet you’d be a decent candidate for it.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks, “What are you talking about?”

Swift smirks as she looks at Handy, then glances at Gearing out of the corner of her eye as she says, “That computer you used to open the motor pool… it was locked before you got your hooves on it, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lodestar answers for him. “It’s why they had me under constant guard... They caught me trying to break into it to get out.” He raises his busted foreleg in the brace as he adds, “It’s why they had me chained up so thoroughly.”

“So, I get you whatever information it is, and you give me the location of this untapped abandoned stable, and we can have whatever we want from there? Right?” Gearing asks as he tries to make sure he’s understanding the offer correctly.

As something seems off with this. And he’s not quite sure what.

He leans closer and pushes back the cowl from his face as he stares at Lodestar, and starts paying very careful attention to Lodestar’s eyes. But he doesn’t see any of the yellow madness he’d seen in so many others.

“Exactly, and here’s the details of everything,” Lodestar grabs a piece of folded paper from a magazine sitting on the cloth pile next to him and offers it to Gearing. As Gearing is taking it from him, Lodestar adds, “The sooner you get it, the better. We wait too long and either of the spots might be compromised and we both lose out.”

Gearing grabs the note and flips it open to read it. Instantly he rolls his eyes and frowns as an indicator appears across his vision.

New position added to map interface.

Gearing quickly opens his map on his PipBuck, and starts scrolling around to find out where the marker had been placed. He raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Lodestar. “This is over there by the Hoofington Arena…”

Lodestar nods. “In one of the maintenance access tunnels a bit away from there, but, yeah.”

Swift glances at his map display and grins as she says, “Hey, that works out…” She catches eye contact with Gearing, then taps on a spot on his map display with a wingtip as she says, “I still need to swing by that Chapel place, to talk to Charity, and it’s right over here by the bridge on the Fillydelphia turnpike.”

Gearing glances at her sideways and asks flatly, “Charity?”

In his mind’s eye he sees a bulbously fat yellow mare with more chins than legs, and surrounded by mountains of food, money, and other valuables. Supporting her massive girth are rows of small foals, all practically bowing under the weight as she keeps a tight grip on a collection of chains that leads down to the bomb collars around the children’s necks. She cackles and laughs as she yanks on the chains and directs the children to drag her mass from one location to the next, so she can feed on a nation’s worth of food. She gorges herself like a tick, with food splattering across her muzzle and disappearing down her maw as ooze like spittle dribbles down her many many chins.

All while the kids try their best just to catch any stray crumbs that fall down near her.

“Yeah, Charity?” Swift asks as she smirks at him. “You remember her? The four kids we ran into a few days ago? I need to talk to her about paying off their debts.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Gearing comments flatly.

The little blue pegasus kicks open the door to his mental space and glares at the yellow monstrosity.

“I haven’t forgotten her,” Gearing adds.

In his mental space the little blue pegasus walks forward with a rifle held close and tight as he takes quick precision based shots. After the yellow monster falls back and off the kids she was using as a throne, with her head exploding into chunky yellow and red bits, the little blue pegasus grins around a cigar as he says, ‘Two in the chest. One in the head. Repeat, until Dead.’

Gearing’s muzzle slowly grows a wide smile as he says, “I look forward to meeting her.”

In his mind space a giant Hoofington’s Most Wanted poster rolls down from above and the mare’s disgusting visage covers the center with a smug sneer of superiority. Then the picture of her fades to gray tones before big bold letters appear across her face in blood red ink.

DECEASED

“Oh boy… Charity?” Lodestar asks as he looks between them. “I’d be careful around her if I were you. She’s got a reputation.”

“A well earned one, I bet,” Gearing replies with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at making sure I know what I’m doing before I do it.”

The little blue pegasus in his head pops the front half of his body out of a mind cloud as he starts scoping the area with a rifle as he says, ‘Yeah… just need a clear line of sight and no one standing behind her long enough to pass out the copper coated candy…’

“Yeah, she’s earned it alright,” Lodestar comments as he snorts in amusement and shakes his head.

“But, we’ll be square after this, right Lodestar?” Gearing asks. He motions between himself and Handy as he asks, “This’ll be worth it to you to give us what we need, right? I don’t want any surprises later.”

Lodestar nods. “I can understand that. And, yes, you bring back the data, and I’ll give you what I have, and you can go get what you want out of the place while you can.”

“Why?” Handy asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Everyone looks at Handy, and he points at Lodestar as he looks at Swift. “From the way he’s talking, that’s an uncracked stable. Remember how Bradoak acted?” He shakes his head. “I don’t see how it’s worth it. The stable alone’s gotta be worth more than anything we can be bringing back.”

Lodestar stares at him for a moment before he says, “Funny… a few minutes ago you were ranting that the location alone was worth only being a tip for rescuing me… Now you’re questioning my reasons for bartering it away?”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Don’t try to follow Handy’s logic with some things, you’ll hurt yourself.” Handy shoots him a dirty look, but Gearing just grins at it as he asks, “But, he also makes a fair point. Which is why I asked.”

Lodestar nods as he looks between them. “Fair, I suppose.” He regards Handy for a few moments before he adds, “I can appreciate the caution… but, as you’d know if you’d been in the trading business for any length of time, information is a commodity. Even more so than food in most cases.” He waves his good foreleg toward Gearing as he adds, “The database was a repository of information from a couple companies… If I’m right, it has some schematics mixed in with the data that would be worth quite a bit to the right ponies.” He looks over at Handy and grins. “All without having the added expense and danger of having to excavate and haul mass amounts of salvage… Understand?”

Handy bobs his head and points at Lodestar. “Ah, now, see, that makes sense.” He looks over at Gearing and asks, “So, we going to head out now and get this over with or?”

Gearing waves goodbye to Lodestar as he turns and starts leading the group away from the Happy Trails Trading Company’s booth. “Sooner than later… yeah.” After they’re a few paces away he looks between them as he asks, “You guys restock up on supplies yet?”

Swift shakes her head. “No, when we got back we were all pretty exhausted. Even as roughed up as we were, we had to wait for Bonesaw to stabilize Lodestar before he could even do anything for us.” She points back towards her right hindleg as she frowns. “I still got a piece of something back there that I’m going to have to have Cure dig out of my ass when we get back home.”

Handy looks over his shoulder towards the booth Lodestar is lounging in as he says quietly, “Yeah, he almost didn’t make it himself. We’re lucky we got him back when we did.”

Gearing nods as he looks back at him. “Yeah, we are.” When Handy looks at him he tilts his head and asks, “You do realize he’s the only one with the info about that stable. The rest are dead. So, if he’d died, we’d be screwed beyond belief right now.”

Handy’s eyes momentarily go a bit wider before he shrugs. “Yeah. Gotta point.”

“What’s the plan?” Swift asks as she looks back and forth between them.

Gearing turns around and looks at them as he walks backwards slowly. “I have no idea what we’re going to be heading into. So we at least need to replenish our supplies, and get Handy’s armor fixed.”

Handy waves a hoof towards Gearing. “What about your armor though?” Swift arcs an eyebrow at him at the atypical show of concern as they follow Gearing down the lane.

Gearing shakes his head. “My armor’s trashed and she’s exhausted already from the last couple days. Going to be at least a day before it’s ready. So I’ll just head out without it.”

“And what if we run into another mob like we did yesterday?” Swift asks as she raises an eyebrow in his direction this time.

Gearing shrugs. “Nopony to rescue this time. So get the hell out of dodge, and come back with better supplies if need be.”

Handy raises a hoof to let Gearing know he’s about to back into someone, but, eerily enough, he manages to vector his reversed walking path to avoid running into them. Handy raises an eyebrow as he looks at the mare examining electronic scrap, and still oblivious to the brass rear end collision she was nearly a part of, as he asks, “Okay, so, potions, ammo, and armor fixed… Then we go?”

Gearing nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

Handy looks between Swift and Gearing as he asks, “Well, where to first?” To the confused look Swift gives him he nudges her shoulder and smirks as he says, “Hey, you got an invitation to the Hoofington Arena…” He nods towards Gearing, “And Big Daddy’d like a word with him as well… So we going there, Chapel, or this access tunnel first?”

Gearing hops up onto his hindlegs, and continues walking backwards, almost upright, as he waves his foreleg in the air and says, “If we’re going for votes, I vote we skip the Arena for now. Hit up Chapel, then go from there to the tunnels… If we need more supplies, I’d rather head to a settlement we’ve already been to, than trying to crawl to a place that we don’t even know is safe or not while low on ammo and potions. Just asking for trouble if we do.”

Swift giggles as she says, “Yeah, somehow I just knew that was going to be your suggestion… You’ve been trying to avoid Big Daddy since your bout with No Shoes and…” She purses her lips to the side before she finally rolls her eyes and blurts out, “Okay, what the hell, Gearing?!”

Gearing keeps walking backwards, on just two legs, as he asks, “What?”

Swift waves a hoof at him as she partially closes an eye, “Why are you walking like that? How are you even walking like that… It’s creepy as shit.” She shakes her head before looking at Handy. “And I can’t even explain why…” She nudges Handy as she smirks, “And what’s with you, normally you’d point out his weird behavior instead.”

Handy shrugs as he says, “Well, it’s Gearing so… Everything seems weird with him, doesn’t it?”

Gearing lowers himself down forward, but jumps his wings down to the ground before his forelegs touch. As soon as his wings are on the floor, he drops down with a quick wingup before pushing himself back towards normal height. He clops onto the ground with all four hooves simultaneously a bit back as if he’d jumped with his wings alone, but still in pace with the others, as he asks, “I don’t know what you mean?”

Swift and Handy exchange glances before rolling their eyes and snickering simultaneously.

Swift waves it off as she continues snickering. “I’ll go do some shopping for me and Handy while he gets his armor fixed. You go get what you need, and we’ll just meet up when we’re done.”

Gearing nods as he starts walking off faster. “Sounds like a plan. Though I’m out of rounds for my forty-five seventy, and need to reload more. And that’d take a while. Got a good amount of rounds for my rifle, so I’ll stick with that for now, not that I’m complaining.”

* * *

It took far longer than any of them would have liked before Swift, Handy, and Gearing were actually able to get on the road and leave Megamart. One thing after another kept cropping up, and Handy’s armor in particular was being a pain in the flank to get it up to snuff again. At one point Handy swore pieces were growing legs and running off on him the moment he sat them down and looked away.

And then there was the issue of making sure their extra possessions weren’t going to bog them down. Handy, in particular, took some time to convince to part with some items, at least temporarily, and that it was safe for them to do so. It wasn’t the first time, by any means, but it’s still a concern for him. Especially the things they want to take back home to the kids. He was so adamant on it, that he made a point of doing a full inventory of the items they’d left with Happy Trails before, just to make sure everything was there. But, just as advertised, and guaranteed by Dandy, Happy Trails was a mare of her word and their things had been safely stored until their return.

Although Lodestar providing additional assurances, a buck that Handy feels, and arguably quite rightly so, owes them his very life, helped Handy feel better about abandoning their added weight yet again.

But, because of all the time eating gremlin activity, they didn’t actually get going until late afternoon heading into evening. While they were originally hoping they were going to make it there today, and maybe spend the night around Chapel before making the return trip, reality quickly morphed their expectations into a realization that this was going to be a couple day trip. One where they were going to have to sleep outside on the way to Chapel at least once.

Unless they wanted to wait another full day to even start this.

And they aren’t willing to for a variety of reasons. Not least of which being the potential loss of the very items they are seeking as they feel like they are on some sort of invisible timer until they lose it all.

As it starts getting dark out, and the trip has, thus far, been rather uneventful, Swift breaks off from the group’s formation and starts flying around them. They’ve kept a staggered line, with Gearing in the lead for the majority of it, for most of the trip. But with visibility starting to wane, they start grouping up more.

Swift comments as she’s circling around them, “I’m going to find a place to crash for the night. I don’t like the idea of blindly walking into a trap.”

“And I’d prefer not to have to sleep outside in this shity weather,” Handy chimes in and waves at her as she banks and zips off in the general direction of where they’re walking.

But Gearing doesn’t say anything. Simply nodding understanding under his mottled blanket turned cloak as he keeps a lookout on their surroundings.

After they’ve been alone for a few moments, Handy starts paying more attention to Gearing, than his surroundings. In a couple cases this causes him to accidentally step on something he shouldn’t have and swearing under his breath at the rock bruise he knows he’s going to have later.

“Handy, if your eyes were getting that bad, you should have said something sooner. Something’s wrong if your vision’s suddenly turned to shit, and you need to get that checked,” Gearing comments flatly as he doesn’t even turn to look at Handy.

Handy stutter steps as his eyes go wide at the sudden comment, and then he shakes his head as he replies, “They aren’t I’m just… preoccupied, mind’s elsewhere.”

Gearing turns his head enough to peek out at him from under his cowl for a moment as he regards Handy. “Is that what you told Swift about that trip wire in the motor pool?” He shakes his head. “Handy, there’s nothing wrong in admitting when you need help. Don’t let your earth pony rock headed stubborn pride get you killed.”

“T-that was… I mean… I just-” Handy starts then hangs his head as he sighs.

“Didn’t see it,” Gearing finishes for him.

Handy nods as he makes a point of finding a burnt out wagon husk incredibly interesting, with his focus zeroed in on it before he mutters, “Yeah…”

“That’s a problem, Handy.”

“Yeah…”

“Not just for you, but for everyone around you,” Gearing adds as he goes back to watching where they are going and picking out a path that, Handy notes, has even less rubble than they were just walking through.

Handy realizes he’d naturally followed in line with Gearing, staying near and in the same walking path as he is, and it frustrates him that he can’t avoid the realization that, yes, it’s easier to walk this way. But, pride aside, he has some very hard questions he has that need answering. So he picks up speed, comes up to walking side by side with Gearing, but starts looking more at the ground than anything else so he doesn’t embarrass himself by tripping and falling on his face.

Stealing sideways glances at Gearing every now and then, Handy asks, “So, that whole Dandy ordeal… that got complicated and confusing as hell real quick, didn’t it?”

Gearing shrugs as he replies, “That’s a word for it, not nearly strong enough in my opinion though.”

Handy smirks as he asks, “Oh? What’d you call it?”

“A fucking living nightmare cooked up by Nightmare Moon herself,” Gearing replies deadpan.

Handy can’t help but craning his head back and laughing, loudly, despite their unknown surroundings. After a few hoots of amusement he looks at Gearing and replies with a massive grin across his muzzle, “Fatherhood’s not that scary, Gearing. I’m sure you’d do fine.” He shakes his head. “Crashing through concrete buildings, getting shot at, or blown up are far worse. And you handle that just fine, it seems.”

Gearing actually turns his head to look at Handy before he replies, “Different kind of pain, Handy. Physical injuries can heal, if they don’t kill me. And if they kill me it’s not really my problem anymore and there’s no more pain…” He bobs his head around before he says softly as he looks into the gloomy distance, “Sometimes pain’s all you have to let you know you’re still alive. But I’d rather not have any more than I can handle. And fatherhood would be one can of worms I’ve never been tested against.” He shrugs. “The unknown can be scary.”

Handy watches him closely for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah… it can…” He reaches up and rubs his mane with his hoof before he says quietly, “Hey, so… I just wanted to thank you… you know… for the motor pool… ?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Yeah?” He nods. “Well, you’re welcome. But, please, next time keep an eye out or don’t walk into areas you can’t see well.” One of Gearing’s wings slips out and points at Handy’s PipBuck as he adds, “Or at least turn on your PipBuck’s light to help you if you need it.” He ruffles his wings back into their previous location under the cloak before he grumbles, “That shit hurt like hell…”

Handy steps a little faster to get a bit in front of him so he can try and see Gearing’s face under the cowl more. “Yeah, so, about that… Why’d you do that?” He points a hoof at himself. “I mean it was my own fuck up. Then you punted me across the room like you were going for the moon.”

Gearing reaches up a hoof and pulls off his cowl as he looks at Handy, and does Handy the service of actually letting him see his face. His incredulous face that has a carved message across his visage that clearly states, ‘Are you fucking kidding me, or are you that stupid?’

Handy groans as he rubs his hoof over his mane abrasively as he tries to figure out what he wants to say to defend himself.

“Handy,” Gearing comments flatly, and simultaneously earns him Handy’s undivided attention. “I counted no less than three fragmentation explosives being released by that trap. If you were within the kill zone, the concussive force alone would have probably liquefied your insides and brain. And even if your armor wasn’t as damaged as it was, I highly doubt it could protect you sufficiently from the shrapnel…” They stare at each other for a few moments before Gearing continues, “So for you to live, you had to clear the kill zone…” He puts a hoof to his chest and shakes his head. “I don’t have any vulnerable internals that would be susceptible to concussion blasts… and at point blank range, with a standard frag, I had a high probability of survival.” He bobs his head as he adds, “I was going to suffer injury, but not likely fatal. And that heavy tool chest I knocked over helped contain the blast further… I could have simply jumped away myself, and prevented myself from getting hurt, but then, you’d be dead right now.”

Gearing shrugs as he concludes, “Injuries can be healed. Can’t fix a dead pony… Doing what I did had the highest probability of both of us surviving the encounter.”

“So,” Handy asks with a sigh. “Straight math then, huh?”

Gearing bobs his head around before nodding. “Pretty much.”

“I guess it makes it easier to do those kinds of crazy things when you just go by the math and aren’t scared of it,” Handy mutters.

“Are you kidding me?” Gearing asks with a raised eyebrow. “Just because I’m not wailing like a banshee at the time, doesn’t mean I’m not scared as hell in the process.”

“Wait, what?” Handy shakes his head. “Why would you be scared, knowing you’re going to be fine?”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Handy… it’s a calculated risk. But still a risk. And it still is going to hurt like hell.” To the baffled look Handy gives him Gearing chuckles as he asks, “What? You didn’t think there was shit that actually scared me? Or that I simply can’t do?”

Handy avoids looking at him as he waves a hoof at him. “I mean, you never act like it… and nothing seems to phase you.”

Gearing sits down and smirks as he says, “Oh yeah? Well it does, some of it scares the shit out of me too. I mean… figuratively… you know?”

Handy rolls his eyes as he asks, “Oh yeah? Like what? What could possibly scare you?”

Gearing stares at him for a moment before saying softly, “I can’t swim.”

Handy freezes his whole body as he was in the midst of turning the eye roll into a long neck roll as his eyes go to their absolute widest. Of anything and everything he could have thought of that Gearing might have said. That wasn’t even on the list. He slowly brings his head around to look at Gearing as he asks, “What? Swim?”

Gearing slowly shakes his head. “I can’t. Despite being a pegasus and being able to fly. Something about the water doesn’t work the same way as the air. And normal buoyancy takes over. We can’t simply fly through it. I mean, otherwise, even normal pegasi would never drown.” He shrugs before pointing his forehoof at his chest. “But where as typical pegasi have at worst neutral buoyancy, I don’t. I’m too dense. So I don’t stand a chance. I pretty much sink like a rock.” He shrugs. “Can’t swim for even a second before I’m sucked under.”

“But… it’s… it’s not like you have to worry about drowning, right?” Handy asks as he looks him over. “That’s the only real thing most have to worry about in the water, but you don’t even need to breathe. You could just walk your way out along the bottom, right?” He shakes his head. “Sea monsters trying to eat you aside, I mean.”

Gearing lowers his hoof as he stares at him. “Yeah… Handy… That’s right… I can’t drown. Because I don’t breathe.” He tilts his head as he asks, “But you know what I can do real easily?”

“What?”

“Get stuck in the silt at the bottom of the water, and not be able to get out of it,” Gearing replies sharply.

Handy shakes his head for a moment before he asks, “Wait… what?”

Gearing slowly nods his head before he looks away and avoids eye contact. “I can’t swim, so I sink to the very bottom… Every. Single. Time.” He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “And if the silt at the bottom is bad enough, I can get stuck. And not be able to climb my way out.” He looks over at Handy before he asks, “You ever hear about ponies accidentally walking into tar flats, or the like and getting stuck in the mud. And dying if no one comes along and rescues them?” Handy nods slowly. “Same principle… except… unlike them… I wouldn’t simply die of starvation, dehydration, or exposure.” His entire body shivers and clinks and clatters against itself before he finishes. “I would be stuck down there … alone… in the dark… … until someone or something came by and saved me or I finally died of old age.”

Gearing pulls his cloak tighter to himself as he shakes again as he focuses his eyes on the grime at their hooves. “And that scares the ever living fuck out of me.”

Handy stares at him for a bit before he replies, “Damn… and I thought drowning would be bad enough…”

Gearing gives himself a vigorous shake as he stands back up and starts walking again. “Yeah, well, as much as that would suck, I’d rather be able to drown instead. At least then it would be relatively quick and I wouldn’t have to suffer for decades…”

The comments from Gearing, the entire conversation, isn’t what Handy had been expecting. And it just makes things worse in his mind. So he follows along as he tries to process what he’s learned and he tries to think of some better topic to talk about to get away from such a grim subject that he accidentally brought up.

Handy lets out a long frustrated sigh as he looks down and goes about screwing up his face one direction then the other in sequence. After they’ve walked a bit further, and Gearing starts thinking the conversation is over, Handy looks at him sideways and asks, “So… what do you enjoy doing? Fixing things or whatever?”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at him. “Well, yeah…”

Handy frowns before asking, “So, what kind of stuff do you like fixing?”

Gearing goes back to looking forward as he bobs his head around. “Well… Things that need fixing have a pretty good rank… Especially things no one else has been able to.” Gearing looks at Handy and grins widely as he says, “Yeah, I’ll admit, my ego has something to say about that, and it just gets bigger each time it happens.” Gearing bobs his head around as he’s hopping over a large chunk of a broken pillar from a collapsed building nearby. “But sometimes just doing maintenance on an already well maintained machine. Something precision based with lots of parts… That has a special place too. It just has this near hypnotic effect watching it work the way it’s supposed to. With all the tiny parts contributing to the greater whole.” He raises a wing and grins at Handy, as Handy is walking around the larger pieces of the collapsed column. “But, there’s also the joy of a really tough problem. You know what I mean?” He grabs a rock and holds it between his forehooves as he examines it closely, then starts grinding his hooves into it and gouges out pieces. “The kind of thing that you spend tons of time on, but then, suddenly, bam! You figure it out!” He tosses the now much smaller rock over his shoulder nonchalantly as he says, “And suddenly you break through and everything comes together. And all of the frustration and everything pays off when it starts working right…” He tilts his head as he asks, “Does that make any sense at all?”

Handy bobs his head around before nodding, but avoiding eye contact as he says, “Yeah, Gearing, I can understand that. It’s frustrating as hell, and you just wish it’d just work like it’s supposed to… Then, suddenly, it does.”

“Yup!” Gearing cheerfully replies before trotting on. But, a few steps on, he comes to a complete stop with one of his forehooves up in the air as he’d paused mid stride. Handy stops as well, looking around to see what had caused Gearing’s frozen stance, but jerks his head over to Gearing as he’s asked, “Sorry, or did you mean outside of work?”

Handy stares at him and slowly rotates his head as he tilts it and tries to figure out the most complicated thing in his life. “What?”

Gearing chuckles as he waves a hoof at Handy. “I mean… you guys still have that now, right? You know… what you do when you’re not on the clock… For fun?” Gearing tilts his head. “You do know what fun is, right Handy?”

“Uh… yeah…?” Handy replies softly as his eyes go wide. “What… what do you do for … fun?”

Gearing tilts his head the other way as the question seems to be questioning itself as much as Gearing. Gearing waves off to the side as he says, “Well, tinkering was always an interest of mine… But, really, reading is definitely one of my guilty pleasures.”

Handy gets close to him, walking side by side with him as he looks Gearing over closely as he asks, “You mean like… technical diagrams? Schematics? Manuals? Those sorts of things?”

Gearing chuckles and looks at Handy sideways. “Well, sure, sometimes… but that’s more of a curiosity type thing. And I definitely don’t need to read those more than once…” He raises a hoof as he shakes his head. “But, not really pleasure reading…usually… As interesting as it is, I’m not always going to grab one of those when I’m trying to relax. When I’m bored? When there’s nothing else to do? Or it’s something I need or want to know? Sure.” He bobs his head around. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, some of the articles in most of the magazines I’ve read are pretty entertaining in their own right. But there’s not usually any use in reading them a second time.”

“So… you read books more than once?”

Gearing looks off to the side, as a sheepish grin crosses his muzzle. “The right kinda books… yeah…”

“Well? Like what?” Handy asks as he starts pulling ahead of Gearing to try and see his face.

Gearing looks over at him and gives him the same crooked smile as he replies, “Comic books… Most comic books, that is…”

Handy pauses walking as his eyes go wide. “You like reading… comic books?”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he slows walking and waves it away with a forehoof. “Yes, alright.” He walks passed Handy, and then turns to look at him as he says, “Go ahead. Get it out. I’m waiting.”

Handy blinks a few times before asking, “What?”

“You were going to make fun of me for reading comics. Weren’t you?” Gearing tilts his head as he says, “Tell me it’s stuff meant for foals, or some other nonsense like that?” Gearing beckons with his forehoof as he says, “Come on, let’s have it already…. Let’s see if there’s been any new insults for nerds in the last two hundred years.” He leans towards Handy as he grins. “Because, really, if there hasn’t, I’ve already heard it all.”

Handy blinks rapidly again before asking, “You used to get made fun of for reading comics?”

Gearing nods as he waves a hoof horizontally between them like he’s sweeping trash off of a table. “Allllll the time.”

“Why would anyone make fun of you for reading comics?” Handy asks with a near whisper as his mind reels from the implications.

“How should I know? I mean, a lot of them had stuff that was too deep for most foals to really understand anyways.” He starts counting off on his pinions as he looks at his wingtip under his makeshift cloak, “Socio-economic issues, power struggles, politics, things like how sometimes the only difference between a friend and an enemy is circumstances and preconceived biases…” He shrugs as he looks up at Handy. “The stories had a lot to offer everyone, so I don’t know why folks got so stuck on them being comics.”

“And… you’d read a lot of them?” Handy asks as he stares at Gearing blankly.

Gearing returns his stare as he wonders what’s going on, but then nods. “Well… yeah… I had a couple friends that’d pick up new comics for me and leave them for me to read since I was usually too busy to stop by on new comic day.” He bobs his head around a moment before adding, “I mean I followed Power Ponies religiously… and, I know what you’re going to say, that that is SOOOOoo mainstream, and everypony already knows about the Power Ponies, but that doesn’t take away from the fact it was a good series. And then there were the spin offs, and offshoots, and crossover stories with other comic creators. But, yeah, I followed a few series. Not just Power Ponies.” He frowns as he looks off to the side. “Sucks that I’ll never get to see the ending of a couple of them… What with the world ending and everything…”

Handy lets out a snort of amusement as he says, “Out of everything, that’s what you’re worried about?”

Gearing looks over at him and scowls. “Not even in the top ten of my biggest concerns… but… yeah… it’s on the list…” He reaches over and pops Handy on the armor of his chest with the tip of his hoof. “For me, that was a bit of normalcy. A bit of an escape. Something I could actually enjoy even though the world was going to hell around me despite what I did to try to help set it right.” He looks down and stares at his forehooves as he slowly flexes his fetlocks. “Some small bit of goodness that I could hold with my own hooves.” He lets out a sigh before looking up at Handy. “So, yeah, I miss it. What the hell you expect me to say? Good riddance? Or complain about food or some other thing that doesn’t actually do anything for me?”

Handy shakes his head as his eyes go wide. “N-no… I just thought… it’s … interesting… that’s all…” He shrugs. “Don’t hear anything like that these days.”

Gearing looks off to the side and sighs. Then he zips his head back over to Handy’s and grins in his face as he starts rattling on. “Oh! Oh! Oh! OHHH!” He waves back towards Megamart as he says, “I managed to pick up a cover from a comic just the other day. It was the last one before the war ended! I never got to read it! It’s in pristine shape. Granted, it doesn’t have any of the actual story in it, it’s just the cover, but that means, somewhere, somewhere, there’s at least one more comic to be read. So, there’s at least that to look forward to!” He waves at Megamart again as he grins. “Remind me when we get back, and I’ll show you. And you’ll see what I mean. The cover art is amazing!”

Handy is so startled he steps back and actually sits down as he stares at Gearing getting, unquestionably, excited.

About.

Comic books.

Handy stares at him for a few moments before asking, “You’re … a complicated buck… aren’t you?”

Gearing bobs his head around as he looks over the rubble around them. “I’ve had a complicated life if nothing else…”

“I bet,” Handy replies as he nods slowly and directs his eyes down towards the ground.

“Hey, Handy…?

“Yeah, Gearing?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but… that’s uh… that’s the first time you’ve actually referred to me as a buck… as in, a pony…”

Handy lets out a long sigh before he nods, “Yeah, think you’re right.”

After a long silence between them, Gearing finally asks, “That an accidental slip… or supposed to mean something?”

“… intentional… and… I’m sorry,” Handy says quietly.

Gearings eyes go wide as he sits down and puts his hooves up to his own cheeks. “Oh wow! This date in history: Handy Hooves has an epiphany a month in the making! Mark your calendar folks; this is a biggie!”

Handy shakes his head as he chuckles, “Yeah? Well you’re still an egotistical ass…”

“How about you let me in on the secret to what led to this epiphany? More head trauma? Swift knock some sense into you? Or, perhaps, it was something in the water? If that’s the case, share, for the betterment of ponykind, and drink more!” Gearing replies with a mock game show host voice impression and a massive grin plastered on his muzzle.

Handy laughs louder as he shakes his head. “Yeah, sure… but, first, how about you tell me how you’re going to deal with this love triangle you got yourself into?”

Gearing drops his hooves to the ground before he asks, “What love triangle?”

“You… Sable… Dandy…?

“I’m not in a love triangle…” Gearing replies before raising an eyebrow.

Handy stares at him in silence for a full few seconds before commenting flatly, “You can not be that dense.”

Gearing simply tilts his head, but before either of them can say anything further on the matter, Swift returns.

“At first I was worried you two had run into some trouble since you stopped, then I was worried cuz you’re just staring at each other. But now I find you just sitting here and talking instead of trying to kill each other…” While still hovering off to the side she raises both forhooves and shrugs as she adds with a laugh, “What’s Equus come to!” As Handy is opening his mouth to retort, she zips down next to him, and practically crashes into him sideways with an intentional side bump. “Come on, I found a half buried wagon in the side of a building we can crash in for tonight.”

As she’s leading the way she asks, “What were you two boys talking about anyway?”

“Handy simply had a life altering epiphany,” Gearing replies with a smirk as he covers back up with his cloak.

“Yeah, well, Gearing’s in denial,” Handy replies with a grin.

Swift looks between the two quickly and then hops and skips around like a foal for a few seconds as she giggles, “Okay, that’s too rich of a teaser… Gotta fill me in later!”

Both Handy and Gearing point at the other as they say, in unison, “Ask him about it.”

Which only makes Swift giggle even more.

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!!Compartmentalization Protocol Initiated!

!!!Lockdown Commencing!

!!!Freezing ‘Credential Matrix’

!!!’BlueMac.Cred’ Partitioned and Locked

64.5 Dinner and Just Desserts

A small framed gray stallion in a business suit walks in through the back door of this large well known mansion on the periphery of Hoofington. The large well maintained formal garden providing him ample cover from outside prying eyes all the way to, and into, the opulent estate’s home. He passes through a hallway, nodding to a few housekeepers that: see him, notice who it is, and quickly avert their eyes.

He may not be the master of this estate, but his word has sway. And, like the actual master of the home, he was not a pony they would want to cross. Whatever business he has is with the master and it’s best that they stay out of it.

A buck sporting a gold pin on his uniform, a symbol of his position in the pecking order of the servants, walks out of a side room and sees the gray stallion coming his way. He promptly jumps in front of him and starts leading the way to a parlor down the hall as he says, “This way, sir. I shall let the master know you’ve come calling.”

The gray stallion nods as he looks around at the lavish surroundings, especially the few paintings here and there that really should be in a museum somewhere, as he replies, “He should be expecting me. But make sure he knows I need to speak with him sooner than later… okay?”

The butler opens a wooden door and motions in as he gives a respectful bow. “Yes, sir, Mister Trotsky.”

The grey stallion nods his head and trots inside as he continues looking around casually. After the door is shut to this parlor, with shelves upon shelves of old books, all well taken care of but, knowing the master of the home, never actually used outside of being on display as a symbol of status, wealth, and cultured personality. He walks over to a freestanding brass sun model set against the far wall. With expert knowledge and casual ease he rotates and slides the top of the sun to the side, revealing an ornate liquor cabinet inside, and helps himself to the amber liquid stored in the large crystal decanter.

Forgoing the ice entirely, as that would simply take up space better used for the liquid gold he plans on basting his tongue with shortly, he fills one of the provided glasses almost to the absolute top. Well beyond what one would normally pour for themselves. Excessively so.

Trotsky lifts the glass to his muzzle, giving it a slight swirl on the end of his hoof as he snuffs the effervescence being emitted from the crystal glass. He uses his other forehoof to readjust the sandy yellow mustache that covers his upper lip, and matching his mane, before carefully taking a sip. He swishes it around in his mouth before swallowing noisily and letting out a sigh. “Ahhhhh… this alone is worth the trip.”

“It better be, given how much that costs an ounce…” a buck’s voice greets him from the door.

But, Trotsky doesn’t even react like most others might as he’s indulging in someone else’s liquor cabinet. Especially their expensive liquor cabinet. Instead of hunkering down, flinching, or even turning to look at his ‘host’ he takes another long sip and nods as he looks up at the ceiling while he rides the flavor wave. “Well, if you want the best, you have to pay for it.”

The door carefully shuts as the unicorn stallion makes his way in, but uses his sparkling blue magic field to shut the door without even looking. He straightens his majestically high maintenance mane with a hoof before continuing over to where Trotsky is standing. Before he even gets there he deftly uses his magic field and pours himself a glass of the same golden liquid that Trotsky is enjoying. But he only pours himself a far more reserved serving, and then actually uses a couple of the provided soap stones to help make and keep it chilled, while not affecting it’s flavor.

After savoring the first tiny sip he opens his eyes and asks, “So, you’ve got everything set up for me, Trotsky?”

Trotsky nods as he’s swishing around a mouthful, and doesn’t say anything until he finally gulps it down. “He’ll be here tonight. As planned. Already confirmed he’s on his way.”

The unicorn swirls around his glass with his magic field, gently clanking the soap stones along the crystalline interior. “And you’re positive he’ll be on board?”

Trotsky nods again as he’s looking into his glass. “This is apparently just the kind of thing he enjoys, actually.” He looks over at his host, examining the custom tailored outfit that not only perfectly compliments the unicorn’s color pallet and features but probably cost more than most ponies make in a single year, and continues, “As we’ve discussed, he’s got to be one of the most connected individuals in all of Equestria. Businesses that work, discreetly, with him have been flourishing.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how he manages it, but he seems to be able to get pretty much anything.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter if it’s on the banned or contraband list. Somehow he’s got enough pull to get it right on through.” He stares into his glass and says before taking another sip, “And in some cases, apparently, he’s pulled goods straight out of impound…”

The well dressed unicorn lets out a long sigh as he asks, “How is this even possible? I’ve not even heard of this gentlestallion before. Surely someone so connected would also be well known.”

Trotsky bobs his head around and gulps down the drink he’d already sipped but had held in his muzzle to savor its goodness. He stares at the unicorn for a few moments before he lets out a very alcoholic smelling exhale. “That’s part of the thing…”

The unicorn blinks a few times, and then looks around as if someone else in the room was going to volunteer an answer. He finally motions towards Trotsky as he says, “Well, out with it, man. We haven’t all night!”

“He likes his anonymity… If he chooses to work with you, you’re going to be under a condition that you don’t talk about him… ever… to anyone.”

The unicorn raises an eyebrow and asks, “Ohhh? And just why is that?”

Trotsky slams the rest of his glass down his muzzle, and then starts pouring himself another as he bobs his head around. “Well there’s a few rumors that can answer that… None of them are particularly good news for most…”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Trotsky looks over at him and points a hoof towards the ornate door they’d both entered from. “He’s coming over here, with the promise of delicacies and delicious food the likes of which he hasn’t had yet. That’s all…” He steps closer to the unicorn and lowers his voice. “Money means nothing to this buck-”

The unicorn scoffs and looks off to the side as he’s taking a sip and says in a condescending tone, “Posh… so he’s a poor commoner… After all, those who don’t value money have never really had any in the first place… heh…”

The earth pony grabs the glass away from the unicorn, demanding his attention as he almost pushes him over with a shoulder bump. “Wrong!” He gives the glass back to the startled unicorn and says, stern faced, “I mean he has access to so many resources that he’s beyond caring about bits anymore… The reason he’s hard to deal with is because he already has everything he could possibly want. He doesn’t deal in bits. Not gold. Not jewels. He deals in secrets, information, connections, and experiences. And if you can’t give him something he doesn’t already have he has no use for you!”

The unicorn chuckles a bit, “You’re kidding surely-” then pales as he asks, “You’re not… how is that possible?! Even Money Bags still enjoys the jingle of coins!”

Trotsky puts a hoof over his eyes for a moment as he takes in a deep breath. “Okay, well… that’s where the rumors come in at.”

“Well don’t leave me hanging here, man! Out with it!”

Trotsky slides his hoof off of his face and says softly, “There’s a rumor that he’s royalty.”

“Yeah… and? So is Blueblood… We could just ask him since he’ll be here tonight as well.”

Trotsky shakes his head. “No… not like Blueblood…” After a few moments of silence he adds, “Direct lineage.”

The unicorn laughs and waves it away with a hoof. “Yeah? Well, there’s already a line for the throne so it couldn’t be that import-” he stops mid sentence as the wording actually strikes him. “Direct lineage you say?! You mean he’s-?!”

“The rumor I’d dug up is that he’s Celestia’s illegitimate biological son… That she’d hid her pregnancy with magic, and is actually one of the reasons why she vacated the throne when Littlehorn was destroyed. To protect her only child.” He shrugs and smiles. “A mother’s instincts.”

“Tha- that’s preposterous…” the unicorn stammers. “There’s no way that could be! It would have gotten out somehow!”

Trotsky shakes his head. “Not with the constant threats to her life already. An heir to the throne? The Zebras would be all over them to snuff out that possibility!”

“So you’re saying no one’s seen him, ever? Yet you expect me to believe he’s coming here, alone, simply on the promise of fine dining?” the unicorn asks with a raised eyebrow.

Trotsky shakes his head. “No. Not saying that at all… in fact, I’ve gotten confirmed reports of him inside the castle, on repeated occasions… but no one knows where he’s going or what he’s doing… Nor see him leave or enter.” He leans towards the unicorn and says quietly, “Remember how reclusive Luna’s been? Apparently he’s even been in her company… And, besides extremely few trusted guards, who else would have access to her?”

“…family,” the unicorn says softly.

“Family,” Trotsky repeats with a firm slow nod of his head.

The unicorn smirks as he looks at his glass hovering next to him, “You know, this information would be worth a fortune to the right parties…”

Trotsky smirks and shrugs. “Well, you pay me enough to dig it up… but… just a word to the wise…” He pauses long enough for the unicorn to actually look up at him from his glass of liquor. “Don’t go trying to sell him out to the Zebras just yet… I’m sure he’ll be worth far more as a business partner than as a ransom.”

The unicorn snickers as he finishes his own drink. “You make an astute observation…”

Trotsky dips his head and grins as he says, “Why thank you!” He grabs the glass he’d just poured, downs the entire thing in one go, and then says with a raspy voice and a cough, “There’s… just… one more thing.”

The unicorn smiles and rolls his eyes as he says, “This is so droll… What is it now, Trotsky?”

Trotsky frowns as he says, “He’s difficult to please, and has more than just a few socially unacceptable quirks. And, apparently, his station, status, wealth, or whatever is so great that… he simply doesn’t care.”

The unicorn narrows his eyes as he asks, “Are you telling me I’m going to have to suffer through an evening with an insufferable ass just to increase my profit margins?”

Trotsky shrugs as he grins. “I wouldn’t have putten it so eloquently… but... pretty much, yeah.” He walks by him on the way to the door and taps him on the shoulder as he says, “I better get out of here. Can’t have him or anyone else seeing me here.”

“Yes, I’d prefer if there were as few questions about our connections as possible. Thank you for your discretion,” his unicorn co-conspirator replies with a frown.

Trotsky waves with a hoof and quickly makes tracks out through the backdoor of the mansion. Literally.

The unicorn looks down and frowns as he asks the ether, “Would it be too much to ask the cretin to wipe his shoes off somewhere on the back veranda before dragging that gods awful Hoofington weather drenched mud through my home? Uhg!” He rolls his eyes, while pouring himself another glass, and promptly downs the entire thing before heading back out into the hallway.

The only bright side is the sight of several of his house keepers already hard at work to remove the muddy prints Trotsky tracked through the mansion from the hardwood and marble floors.

He heads down the wide hall to the main foyer and finds that one of his guests has already arrived. He gives a courteous and respectful bow of his head as he says, “Blueblood! So good of you to come!” He waves a hoof and tuts as he shakes his head in disgust. “In such dreadful weather at that.”

“Quite right, Grabby!” Blueblood replies with a rather disturbed look on his face. He works a bit to straighten the tan, practically golden amber, hair of his mane as he says, “But when opportunity knocks, one must brave the dangers of the world.”

Grabby nods and motions towards a side door. He guides Blueblood into the large dining hall where a monstrous fireplace sits in the middle of both the length of the room and table. “One must do, what one must do, certainly!” As they are crossing the threshold into the dinning hall, he leans towards Blueblood and asks, “So, did you manage to bring it?”

Blueblood puts a hoof to his chest and tilts his head as he looks away at the mere suggestion of failure. “My dear Grabby, you wound me! Of course I brought the finest caviar money can buy! Straight from the protected waters of Stalliongrad!”

“And… the cheese you’d mentioned?”

Blueblood nods as he continues on into the dinning hall at a casual pace. “Yes, the cheese prepared by the monks in Saddle Arabia over the course of thirty years… And the truffles harvested by those uncultured buffalo, as requested.” He waves dismissively towards a back room. “I’ve already passed it on to your servants…” He turns to look at Grabby as he asks, “Are you certain your chefs know how to handle such high quality grandiose ingredients?”

Grabby nods repeatedly. “Yes. Of course. I pilfered one from a five star restaurant in Prance.” He chuckles and waves a hoof dismissively. “Apparently his loss pretty much made the entire thing collapse in financial ruin…But that’s what happens when you put your lynchpin on such a disposable portion of your business model.”

Blueblood stands over by the fire, shaking himself gently and availing himself of the few drops of water that had managed to get through the coat he’d been wearing on the way here. “I must say this entire evening has piqued my interest. Finally access to a few goods that we haven’t been able to get our hooves on? Rather timely, I must say!”

Grabby nods as he looks around. “Yes… very much so… And with it the little project you’ve been working on will be well financed…” He raises an eyebrow as he asks, “And my portion, both payment and lodging, have been accounted for, correct?”

Blueblood nods. “Yes. Your payment and spot in the location have already been accounted for.”

Grabby nods as he grins and looks around. “Good… good… Better safe than sorry… I wouldn’t want to be living with the common rabble in one of those ungainly stables.” He scrunches up his nose in disgust and waves a hoof to try and shoo away such distasteful thoughts. “Have you seen the things? So many ponies in one location! And the living conditions are positively ghastly! No sense of style! No considerations taken into account for the finer things in life…” He looks at Blueblood with a raised eyebrow as he finishes.

Blueblood nods as he lets out a sigh. “Yes, Grabby, unlike Stable-Tec, we’ve actually taken all of that into consideration… Only those truly deserving will be included… You won’t have to worry about the filthy hooved masses.”

Grabby nods rapidly as he lets out a sigh. “Good. Good! I have to admit. The entire ordeal has been on my mind quite a bit of late.”

“Well, how about we take a break for the evening, and retire. To pleasant food, company, and a bright financial future and business partnership! And, thus, leave all of this dreadful business behind us for one evening?” Blueblood suggests.

Grabby nods as he looks around and rubs his mane with his hoof again. “Quite right. Good call.” He takes in a deep breath and lets it out before looking over at Blueblood. “So, before our guest gets here, I was wondering…” He puts a hoof to his mouth in thought as he starts second guessing what he was about to say as Blueblood turns to regard him. Grabby waves his hoof dismissively as he says, “Never mind. That’s a topic for another day…” Blueblood raises an eyebrow in response, but both of their attentions are brought to the mansion’s front door as a loud metal knocker is struck repeatedly.

Grabby grins and starts that way as he says, “That must be our guest of honor now!”

They both trot over as the front door is opened by a group of servants.

A white pegasus steps in through the threshold at a slow pace, holding a walking cane of some kind in the air so that the tip is well above his head as he advances. All around him the water that had been pouring down from the outside drips over and off of the magical bubble that had appeared over his head as long as he kept the wooden cylinder up in the air.

As the water drips down around him he looks around at the attendants who ask to take or hold his clothing, and yet he relinquishes nothing. Until he lowers the wand, and with a flash the bubble above his head disappears, dropping the last few drops of water down on himself and those clamoring around him. He passes over his hat, and his now wet oversized coat to the attendants before stowing the rod inside of his sparkling and immaculately tailored jacket. He sees the absolutely stunned look on Grabby’s face and says with a smug smile, “It is but a rather common, simple, spell to keep rain off of oneself… If you are that impressed by it, perchance you should learn it for yourself?”

Grabby stares at him for a moment before shaking his head a bit. “I’m sorry, where are my manners-”

“In the drain with the rest of this gods awful Hoofington weather I’d wager,” the white stallion in the foyer quips. “Leaving me on that stoop for so long, I might have actually gotten wet!”

“Ah… yes… forgive me… but-” Grabby begins again.

The white stallion smiles and nods his head. “As long as you know you were wrong, I am more than gracious enough to do so.” He waves his hoof and throws a bit of imaginary air in Grabby’s direction. “There. Forgiven.”

“Ah… yes… well… thank you… I’m-”

“Yes, yes. I know who you are, Grabby. Master of this humble estate yet… connoisseur of cuisine most fabulous?” He chuckles a bit as he tilts his head. “I must say, when they told me you had such fare on offer I said ‘Posh, if such things existed, I would have already supped them!’ but they were quite insistent that you were the stallion to provide me something I’ve yet to experience…” He turns to the side and looks at an ornate mirror by the door, installed for the purpose of examining oneself before stepping hoof out of the house. “So I said to myself, ‘Sunshine, nothing ventured, nothing gained. There are only so many chances in one's life to experience something truly new and wonderful. So you must go! What’s the worst that could happen?’” He looks to the side and frowns as he gazes through the curtains out into the Hoofington downpour outside. “I had, quite terribly, made an error in calculation… and did not take into consideration the out right obnoxious weather this part of the country has.” He looks over at one of the servants who is carefully trying to dry off the jacket he was given with a piece of heating equipment and asks, “How is it that any actually live in this practical swamp? Could you not move? Why would you bother toiling in such depraved conditions?”

The servants glance at him, and at Grabby, not sure what to say, but are saved from having to say anything as Sunshine abruptly turns towards Grabby. “So, Grabby, You have quite the captive audience here! I do not wish to venture forth back out into this nightmare they call Hoofington’s average weather. But, thankfully, we apparently have much to discuss! So, lead the way, and we shall begin! And, if all goes well, the night shall progress and, by the end of it, I can leave without further worry of being assaulted by this horrendous weather… Long enough to make it out of Hoofington, I pray!”

Grabby nods and smiles, with a rather forced grin, as he says, “Quite right! Dreadful weather tonight! Before we begin, let me introduce-” He waves a hoof to the side towards Blueblood, but, again, is cut off.

“Blueblood… yes… I’m aware,” Sunshine says as he trails his eyes over the white unicorn. “I was not aware that you were going to be in attendance tonight.”

Bluebloods eyes go wide as they quickly dart around Sunshine’s body, not being used to being on the receiving end of such obvious disdained words. At least not so openly. “Well, quite right. Grabby was kind enough to invite me along for the night’s festivities. He’d said that he had a guest coming which we will have quite a few things in common, business wise.”

Grabby looks between them and asks, “You two… know each other?”

“I am quite familiar with Blueblood, yes. Though the fates have deemed it right to keep our paths apart, until tonight it seems… shame,” Sunshine says as he starts walking in the direction indicated by Grabby and into the large dining hall.

Blueblood lets out a forced cough and says with his eyes closed and his chest puffed out, “That would be Prince… Blueblood,” he comments with emphasis on his title as he blindly turns his muzzle in Sunshine’s direction.

Sunshine replies over his shoulder, “I’m sure.” The phrase is simple, but the tone strikes a chord that stabs both Blueblood and Grabby as meaning having an unfinished ‘you think you are’ at the end.

Blueblood scrunches up his nose as he huffs and is about to say something in retort when Grabby leans towards him and says quietly, “I’ve been warned he’s hard to deal with. I can see they weren’t exaggerating. I beg you, hold your pride long enough for us to talk. Maybe he’ll warm up to us after having a good meal.”

Blueblood glares at Grabby with a fierceness in his eyes strong enough that Grabby actually recoils from him. But after taking in a deep breath, and placing a wayward lock of light amber hair back in its place in his otherwise immaculate mane, he gives a single dignified nod. “It would put anyone in a foul mood to have to travel a long distance in such conditions. If he can be gracious enough to excuse us, I shall do the same.”

Grabby nods in appreciation and puts his forehooves together as he says quietly, “Thank you, Prince Blueblood.” Then he turns and leads the way into the dining hall. As he’s approaching the large table he calls out to Sunshine in order to draw his attention away from where he’s looking out through one of the dining room’s windows, “While we are awaiting the main course to finish cooking, I have acquired quite a treat for us to sample!” He looks over at a butler in the corner and gives him a quick nod.

The suited blue earth pony nods respectfully, hops through the door near him, and claps his forehooves together loudly to send the signal down the servants’ hallway.

A moment later a unicorn mare comes trotting in with a bucket of ice floating in front of her, and an old large glass bottle sitting in an ice bath. She carefully sets the bucket containing the ancient looking green glass bottle before respectfully lowering her gaze and quickly backing out of the room and into the hallway from where she came again.

Grabby trots over as he uses his own levitation field and lifts the bottle enough that it’s upright, while still being in the ice, and carefully spins it so everyone can see it from various angles. “This here is one of the rarest bottles of wine in existence.” He looks over at Sunshine as he says, “A Château Queue-Blanche, recovered from the wreckage of a Prance explorer vessel off the coast of what is now Manehatten.” He looks over at Prince Blueblood and says softly, “Spent nearly 500 years in the ocean’s depths before it was brought up to the surface by salvagers…” He carefully sets the bottle back down as he adds, “There were only ten bottles recovered intact in the entire world!”

“Ah, yes… Château Queue-Blanche,” Sunshine says as he stares at the bottle.

“That is quite the rare find!” Blueblood says with an approving smile and bob of his head.

Sunshine looks from the bottle to Grabby as he asks, “Have you sampled such a ‘rare find’ before, Grabby?”

Grabby shakes his head and smiles as he carefully pulls the bottle out, pops the cork, which does make a satisfying sound showing that its seal has been maintained the entire time, before he starts pouring generous portions into gold trimmed fluted crystal glasses for them all. “That, I have not. This wasn’t that easy to find. I can assure you.”

Sunshine stares at the crystal wine glasses slowly filling with the red liquid as he says, “Quite understandable, given their limited quantity…”

Grabby grins at him and asks as he raises an eyebrow, “Have you sampled such rare delicacies before?”

Sunshine tilts his head and asks, “Have I had some of the salvaged Château Queue-Blanche from the shipwreck? That I have not. I must admit, this will be a new experience for me.”

“Excellent!” Grabby says with a massive grin as he hovers over a glass for Sunshine to take. Which he does by holding his right forehoof in such a way that the glass sits perched on its top in perfect balance. With not even a wave in the liquid to betray any movement whatsoever. Grabby likewise gives one to Blueblood, who accepts it with a dip of his head as he takes it up in his own levitation field. Grabby ends by lifting the final glass in his levitation field as he raises the glass high in the air and declares, “Here’s to first experiences.” He waves the glass in Sunshine’s direction as he adds, “And new beginnings.”

Sunshine dips his head in return as he brings the glass up to his lips and asks, “So, know much about wine, do you?”

Grabby nods and grins as he takes a sip from his cup.

At the same time Blueblood takes a sip from his.

Both of their eyes bug out and Grabby pulls his glass away in time to scream, “Waaait!” as he jumps towards Sunshine and waves a hoof at him to try and get him to stop.

But Sunshine had already taken a sip. In fact. He took his sip after they did and, by the nightmare apparently playing before Grabby’s eyes, it seems like Sunshine actually did it after Grabby had warned him. With an indestructible smirk across his muzzle as he holds hard eye contact with Grabby the entire time.

That not even the wine itself could remove.

Sunshine calmly pulls the glass away from his lips as he declares loudly, and almost giddily, “How positively dreadful!” Then he starts laughing merrily.

Grabby’s foreleg hangs limply as he says with a groan, “I… I don’t know what to say…” He shakes his head and then looks at Sunshine as the tone in his voice completely confuses him. “Wait, what?”

“I said it was dreadful. Absolutely horrendous!” He continues laughing as he’s looking into the glass. “First experiences indeed!”

Grabby gives him a crooked smile as he says, “Well, at least you remain in good spirits about it.”

Sunshine laughs even louder with a practical twinkle in his eye. “No, my good Grabby, the spirits are quite horrendous!” He lifts the glass again so there could and would not be any misunderstanding about what he is referring to. “What I am is in good humor. And after being subjected to such… blight of palates… there’s not much else for one to do.” He gazes into the glass a bit before looking over at Grabby as he says, “I had asked if you knew much about wine, before any of us drank of this swill, for a particular reason.” He holds the glass up into the light so its rich rosy color shines out from the light passing through it. “You see, wine not stored properly, for even a relatively short period of time, would and could quickly turn into what amounts to vinegar…” He rattles the glass on the end of his hoof a bit as he says, “Which is what this has become…” He points a wing over to the bucket of ice it was brought in as he continues, “Furthermore…. My dear host… Given that this is quite obviously a red wine… one would not typically chill it before serving… let alone actually icing it… Proper flavor would only be achieved for a full flavored red by being a bit warmer… say… in the mid sixties, degree wise. But, I would not hold your servants accountable for making such a botchery of the delivery. For, given this had no label, and is so rare, they couldn’t possibly have known.” He lowers the glass and then grins at Grabby as he uses it to motion in his direction. “In truth, they did us a favor. Considering it’s this bad already, while practically numbingly frozen, image how horrid it would be if it were properly warmed!”

Grabby flushes as he looks around and mutters, “That bottle cost me three hundred and four thousand bits! I can’t believe it’s this bad, this… Useless!”

Sunshine raises a wing tip and waves it side to side as he tuts him. “Tut-tut, Grabby… a higher monetary value does not equate to a transcendent experience…” He grins wider and wiggles his eyebrows at him. “I would know.” He looks at the glass and sets it aside as he says, “Furthermore, it’s not entirely useless…” He looks over at Grabby and smirks. “I’m sure a talented chef could make a fine red wine vinaigrette out of it.” He gives a slight pout as he says, “It’s certainly sour enough for that.”

Grabby gives a nervous chuckle as he takes all of the glasses with his levitation field, sets them on a tray, and then has one of his suit wearing servants take it out of the room. “I must apologize for this; it is quite unexpected.”

Sunshine lets out a sigh as he waves it away and starts looking out a nearby window at the steadily intensifying storm. “No need to apologize. It may have come as a surprise to you, but I’m used to my expectations not being met.”

Blueblood coughs and asks, in an attempt to try and direct the conversation away from completely humiliating Grabby, “So, Sunshine. You seem quite well traveled and… cultured… I haven’t heard of you, and the world is quite small, do you normally go by a pseudonym?”

Sunshine turns and looks at him as he raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

Blueblood grins as he asks, “What do your friends call you?”

Sunshine chuckles as he goes back to looking out the window. “My ‘friends’ call me often…” He looks over at Blueblood and gives him a smug grin as he finishes, “And always when they want something.” Blueblood chuckles and Sunshine returns his gaze to the windows as he says, “I jest… My friends call me Sunny.”

Grabby gives him a cooked grin as he asks, “Ah, well then should I refer to you as Sunny?”

Sunshine looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Whatever for?”

Grabby looks at Blueblood then back towards Sunshine as he says, “Well, given our potential business ventures together, I’d consider you a friend.”

“Really?” Sunshine asks. After Grabby grins at him and nods, Sunshine goes back to looking out the window as he huffs, “How presumptuous!”

Grabby instantly deflates and looks over at Blueblood with a frown, who can only smirk and shrug as he nods in apparent agreement of the statement. Grabby frowns even wider before looking over at Sunshine’s back and asking, “So, I hear you are in Canterlot often?”

Blueblood looks at Grabby with an eyebrow raised, but then gets an absolutely baffled look across his face as Sunshine nods and confirms. “I’m there quite often, yes.”

“In the castle?” Grabby presses, earning him another raised eyebrow from his unicorn guest.

“Of course,” Sunshine replies flatly.

They both stare at him from behind as Sunshine says nothing further and does nothing but examine the foul weather outside. After a few moments of silence he slowly turns around and looks at the pair as a scowl grows across his features. “Oh. I see… You bring me here under the pretense of a fine meal… Serve me overpriced bilge water instead… All for some ‘juicy gossip’ about our reclusive ruler?” He looks back and forth between them before he asks, “What tabloid are you working for this time?”

Grabby waves his hooves defensively as his eyes bug out. “That is not why I asked, I was simply curious!”

“About Luna?” Sunshine quips.

Blueblood’s eyes go wide as he asks, “You’ve actually seen Luna?” Sunshine nods. “Recently?” Sunshine nods again. Blueblood looks between him and Grabby as he says, “She’s been behind so many guards, and not making any public appearances, it’s rare to see her at all, even for me!” He looks at Sunshine and scowls as he adds, “And I’m her own nephew!”

Sunshine looks at him as he quips, “Yes, I’m fully aware of your long connection, Blueblood.” He looks between them as he asks, “What, want to make sure she’s still breathing and someone hasn’t secretly taken over?” He rolls his eyes and plasters on a grin as he lets out a long condescending toned, “Fiiiiine.” He straightens up and nods once as he says, “Since you are so deprived of her presence, I shall simply confirm a single fact for you.” He waves around as he says, “Luna is alive and well. Although ‘well’ is a bit of a subjective term at this point.”

Both of their eyes bug out further as Blueblood asks quickly, “Is she ill?!”

Sunshine glares at him and replies with a nasally, “Noooo… she’s not ill, not exactly. So don’t go getting a suit tailored because you’re not getting the crown, Blueblood.”

Blueblood lets out a snort as he looks off to the side and says flatly, “Prince… Blueblood.”

“I’m sure,” Sunshine says again with a dismissive hoof wave. He looks over at Grabby and points at his own eyes with his wingtips. “The poor dear has been working herself so ragged she’s got massive bags under her eyes, and is perpetually sleep deprived.” He puts his forehoof up to his chest and says flatly, “All for the well-being of her dear subjects… Isn’t she so kind?” He leans towards them and waves a hoof as he says softly, apparently completely getting into the gossipy feeling of it, “Why, just this last week she came into the dining hall, dragging herself really, and grabbed a banana to eat.”

Blueblood and Grabby look at each other before looking at Sunshine again, with Grabby asking, “Well, what was so odd about that?”

Sunshine tuts and gives a wide frown as he points at his mouth with one hoof and flings it back behind himself a moment later in imitation of what he’d seen. “She ate the peel, and threw away the actual banana! She was that tired!”

Blueblood puts a hoof to his mouth as he says softly, “Aunt Luna?” Sunshine nods and a few of the servants stand around gaping at what they’d just heard, despite their best attempts not to.

Sunshine waves a hoof as he says, “Is it any wonder she doesn’t want to be seen in public? On top of quite literally not having time for it, that time could be better spent catching up on her sleep… Or at least not be ridiculed for her present state…”

Grabby looks over at Blueblood and says softly, “I had no idea things were so dire…”

Sunshine scowls as he says, “And if one word of this ends up in a paper I’m sure you will be hearing about it promptly thereafter.”

Grabby waves his forehooves frantically. “I don’t work for a paper, honestly!”

Sunshine waves a forehoof towards the table as he asks, “Well, with that being the case, and I see the table is laden with… empty space and horridly executed good intentions….” He tilts his head as he asks, “What is it you are really after? If not gossip from the castle, then what?” Grabby’s left eye twitches ever so much as he gives a bit of a crooked grin in return. Sunshine rolls his eyes as he says, “I am not an idiot… Do not insult my intelligence any further. I don’t get random invites to some… ‘spectacular’… dinner without there being some pretty hefty strings attached with the host wanting me to perform one minor miracle or another.” He looks off to the side, closes his eyes, and claps his forehooves together as he says in an elongated tone that oozes a condescending level of narcissism, “Come, come, out with it already.”

Grabby looks over at the butlers attending both doors and nods them out. They quickly oblige, closing the doors behind them and leaving the three to talk in private. A moment later, with a flash from his horn, the curtains all draw tightly closed to prevent any outside view in. After that Grabby walks over to the fireplace and hovers down a box from the mantel above it. And as the box is coming down, the lid opens and out pops what looks like a set of miniature Pony-In-The-Boxes. He floats one to the center of the end of the table, and does the same with the other one to the opposite side. He places them exactly into mirror positions of each other before he starts slowly cranking the respective handles with his magical field. After a few cranks, he presses the star in the center front of the boxes and a haunty music begins flowing out of them.

Sunshine’s eyes go wide as he grins at the spectacle. “Ouuu noise canceling fetishes…” Grabby’s eyes jump open to their max in surprise and he looks around quickly as Sunshine tuts him. “You know anything from the zebra lands is considered contraband and not exactly legal, mmmmyes?” Grabby’s eyes dart around for a few moments as he’s obviously trying to figure out what he should do. But then he sighs and takes in a breath of relief as Sunshine chuckles and moves over to the table himself. “I only jest!” He grins as he looks between the two and waves towards Blueblood. “If it’s the kind of thing you don’t want others to hear about that badly, then that is positively the juiciest!”

“Well… I’m glad you approve,” Grabby says weakly.

Sunshine taps on the table a couple times as he smiles. “So, what is this minor miracle you wish to conjure upon your life… Something involving something hard to get? Something rare and exciting perchance?”

Grabby pulls out a folded paper from his pocket and floats it over to in front of Sunshine and lays it out for him as neatly as possible as it unfolds itself with his glow. “Well, this to start with… Have you heard of it?”

Sunshine grabs the paper with a wing and pulls it over to himself.

“Hmmm oh… yes? Well… Mint-als are easy enough…” He snicker as he looks over at Grabby. “And some of the ‘Party’ variety, hmmm? That’s not exactly hard to come by either…” He looks over at Blueblood and lets out a sigh. “As I’m sure you know, these are already everywhere at parties to try and liven them up… Especially if a certain pink mare is present. This isn’t exactly uncommon. Even in Equestria proper.”

Grabby smiles as he waves towards the list with a hoof. “Quite right… but it’s always nice to have additional discreet back channels for more if the need comes for it.”

Sunshine trails his eyes down the list as he says, “I’m not seeing a whole lot in here that really should be hard to-” He pauses as he gets down the list of items. And his eyes stop about a quarter of the way from the bottom as something catches his eyes.

And his hesitation makes Grabby visibly extremely uncomfortable.

“I see,” Sunshine says as he folds up the piece of paper, without even reading the rest, and holds it aloft so Grabby can retrieve it. Which he does, with his magical field, very quickly. Sunshine leans on the table sideways as he grins at him and asks, “I take it, that's the item you truly are hoping for help in procuring?” He waves his hoof sideways as he says, “Given the positively pedestrian requests otherwise?”

Grabby adjusts the collar to his suit as he looks around and coughs. “Well… the entire list is composed of things that we would appreciate help in acquiring but…” He coughs into a hoof and looks at Sunshine sideways. “Yes… From your reaction I take it you know what that is?”

Sunshine positively purrs as he says, “Indeed I do.”

Grabby and Blueblood look at him for a few moments before Grabby motions for him to continue. “Well… is it something you can help us with?”

Sunshine trails his eyes over the candelabra in the center of the elongated table as he gives a slight nod. “Yes. It is well within my abilities to acquire…” He looks over at Grabby sideways as he says, “I know of three shipments being held currently at the border right at the moment.” He chuckles and waves a hoof. “One came in as some kind of cat food container coming in from Saddle Arabia of all places!”

He turns toward them and raps his forehooves on the table. “My, how exciting! I don’t exactly get a request for that sort of thing very often… Given the consequences for even simple possession these days.”

Blueblood looks back and forth between Sunshine and Grabby before he asks, “Do I even want to know, Grabby?”

“Probably not, Prince Blueblood… Probably not,” Grabby admits.

Blueblood lets out a sigh as he adjusts his mane with a forehoof. “Well… discretion is key in such instances… and I can surely respect that.” He looks over at Sunshine and asks, “Given Grabby’s reaction, I take it that that is a particularly hard to come by commodity?”

Sunshine nods as he looks over at him. “That, my shining coated coconspirator, is a massive understatement.” He looks over at Grabby and grins widely. “It’s even in the ‘difficult to acquire’ category for myself… Which is truly saying something, honestly!”

Blueblood looks between them and asks, “So if you can even get such a hard to acquire item-”

“Practically impossible to acquire, normally,” Sunshine interrupts with a correcting quip.

Blueblood nods and manages to maintain his composure as he asks, “So you would be able to fulfill the other requests too, given that they are so… as you put it… ‘Pedestrian’ in commonality?”

Sunshine waves a hoof as he laughs, “Of course I could! There are many uses for such items. Some medicinal… some to help poor sods get through their trivial and insignificant lives… Others just because they like to rebel against the system. And, even though the ingredients themselves are also closely monitored, they aren’t impossible to acquire.” He looks over at Grabby and grins. “It’s just a matter of discretion… and the correct word from the correct pony at the correct moment to make sure attention is directed elsewhere when the cargo is passing through.”

He waves it off dismissively. “Although, since you are asking for the possibility of the components… that brings up a few other problems… as they can be used for other purposes as well… Additionally, you do not have any amounts listed here… so… how much are we talking about? How soon? Details man!” He raps on the table a few times to try and speed up their reply and get his point across.

Grabby motions towards the front door of the mansion with a hoof as he says, “There’s a company that is having a hard time getting a hold of the ingredients it needs in a timely manner. If we can fix that problem, we’ll secure their dominance in the local market. We may even be able to expand and actually take over one of our competitors.” He looks over at Blueblood and waves a hoof in disgust. “They’ve been a thorn in my family’s side for generations; it’d be good form for them to finally disappear as an unpleasant footnote in our history.”

Sunshine folds his forehooves on the table as he looks between them. “So I take it you are looking more for a continued, regular supply chain, versus whatever sporadic nonsense you are having to deal with currently?

Grabby nods as he grins at Sunshine. “That sums it up rather aptly, yes, Sunshine.”

Sunshine rubs his chin with a hoof as he looks over to the side at the servants’ entrance. “Well, that certainly complicates matters, doesn’t it?”

Blueblood smirks as he asks, “Why, is it beyond your ability? Can’t do it?”

Sunshine looks over at him and narrows his eyes menacingly as he replies curtly, “I can do as I wish… It’s only a matter if I want to…” He looks around at the table, staring at the empty space in front of him, before he looks at Grabby. “This wouldn’t be a simple delivery. No, no, my fellow.” He waves a hoof dismissively. “This would require a looooong ongoing commitment on my part… So I would, without question, have to be entirely entangled with whatever venture you are running for as long as this war proceeds and…” He looks at Blueblood. “As long as I actually care to… And, to be blunt…” He waves a hoof over the long table. “I don’t see a single solitary reason why I would want to put up with such nonsense.” He folds his forehooves back on the table as he looks back and forth between them. “So, gentlestallions, what is it you can do for me that would come even close to making this worth my consideration, let alone the ample time it will require?”

Blueblood and Grabby look at each other before Grabby says with an uneasy smile, “It’s mighty gracious of you to at least hear me out, but, I’m unsure of what someone of your position would find as suitable compensation.”

Sunshine grins at him as he waves a forehoof casually. “Access would be a good start.”

Blueblood raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were one of the most connected stallions in all of Equestria… How could you need access to anypony?”

Sunshine looks at him and gives him a frown that clearly questions the intelligence of someone asking such a question. “I did not say to a pony.” He looks over at Grabby and slowly starts tapping on the table with his forehooves. “You have access to many laboratories, all connected to your family’s umbrella company… I want access… to all of them.” Grabby’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth but gets cut off. “Furthermore, I want to have the ability to clear out certain segments of the facilities, and bring in my own people.” He looks over at Blueblood and smiles as he adds. “When you need work done, and it needs to be done quickly, having an accessible place, regardless of the hours, can be advantageous.”

“What are you planning on making?” Grabby asks as he raises an eyebrow.

“That, my ‘gracious host’, is entirely my business…” Sunshine says with a long grin. He looks between them as he says, “I have connections, because I make connections. There are times when some individuals need access to a proper lab, discreetly, and they will disappear again when the work is done...” He looks over at Blueblood and grins even wider. “After all, bathtub varieties of Party-Time Mint-als just don’t cut it for my more discerning clients.”

Grabby’s eyes go wide as he asks, “You… you don’t simply smuggle things in, you have an entire production chain set up in the country?”

Sunshine bobs his head side to side a bit before giving a slight nod. “For some things that just aren’t profitable enough to bother with smuggling in, yes.” He shrugs. “Chems may be rather pedestrian in nature, and not even worth my time from a financial standpoint… But they are particularly good for making certain individuals happy… Individuals that, in turn, help to keep me happy.”

Blueblood raises an eyebrow as he asks, “And… just what makes you happy?”

Sunshine frowns as he aimlessly looks around the opulent dining room. “Tragically, very little I’m afraid…” He looks between them and waves a forehoof towards Grabby. “You see, you only get to experience the thrill of doing something new once. And then… after that?” He holds up his hoof and blows on it, sending a piece of lint he’d managed to scrape off the tablecloth fluttering away in the breeze he creates. “Poof… it’s gone. The magic of it is fleeting, and I’m left looking for something new. Granted… there are a … few… guilty pleasures of mine that I enjoy indulging in from time to time… but.” He raises a hoof high in the air as he closes his eyes. “They must be savored! And not over-indulged in… Or else their own magic would be lost.”

A chime rings at the door from the servants’ hallway and Grabby raises a hoof as he says, “If you’ll pardon the pause in the conversation. My servants have brought us something.” He uses his magic field and twists a sundial set into the center of the door, and the door slowly slides open afterwards. After the door’s entirely open, a group of servants parade in carrying a variety of large silver trays. They walk down the length and, as one, all turn and place their respective burdens on the table in front of them. Thus creating a long lined buffet of dainty food morsels. Then they all turn sharply and walk back the way they came, in a line, and the last one out shuts the door behind them again. Once closed, the sundial in the center of the door rotates again on its own, securing the door once more.

Sunshine’s eyes trail down the entire length of the table as he says with a smirk, “If nothing else, I can give points for making an attempt.”

Grabby walks over and waves a hoof over two trays covered in small crackers, all different shapes and colors with various grains still visible. Along the top of each one is one type of cheese, fruit, or other edible delight or another. A few of the others seem to have some kind of jam spread across the tiny cheese cuts. “These hors d’oeuvres have been carefully prepared by a top chef of a five star restaurant straight from Prance! He’s used a combination of ingredients to give each one a uniquely satisfying experience. The cheese is from the monks of Saddle Arabia, tended to and cared for, for decades, until it’s reached its proper flavor… And the little black globes of deliciousness are some of the hardest and rarest caviar in all the world!” He waves a hoof towards Blueblood as he adds, “Both brought by Prince Blueblood, who was gracious enough to help make this evening a memorable one.”

Blueblood smiles as he bobs his head at the compliment. “I do what I can.” He motions towards the trays as he says, “Please, do enjoy.”

Sunshine walks around and looks down at the trays as he asks, “So… Yakistani cheese… and Stalliongrad caviar?”

Grabby nods so emphatically that it travels down his entire body. “You have an excellent eye, Sunshine!”

Sunshine chuckles as he rolls his eyes. “No, Grabby, it’s just that this is so predictable that all I had to do was think.” He sits back and waves a hoof in front of himself. “‘Now, Sunshine’ I said to myself ‘Given what they have already done and how things have progressed thus far… what could he possibly be attempting to apply to our palate this time?’ and I said to myself ‘Well, of course Sunshine, they would try to use the most expensive ingredients that they could find. All in an attempt to impress you.’ And then I said to myself ‘Yes, yes. That’s a brilliant form of deduction, Sunshine.’ And I replied ‘Why thank you, Sunshine’ … So… with that in mind, the only thing it could possibly be… given it’s visual appearance… is a cheese that is meant for religious rituals in a far away country most haven’t even been to, and the eggs of a fish that have been hunted nearly to extinction.” He looks between them and gives them a smirk as he says, “It’s almost like your chef pulled out a book on ‘the most expensive edibles on the planet’ and made a menu exclusively out of it.”

Blueblood and Grabby’s eyes go wide, but before they can say anything, Sunshine continues.

“There is just one massive problem with this… besides the insulting insinuation that is.”

Grabby shakes his head and asks, “And what’s that?”

Sunshine grabs a cracker with a wingtip that has some of the gelatinous spheres on it. He holds it up to eye level and opens his eyes even wider as he says, “These... are not caviar from Stalliongrad.”

Blueblood puffs up indignantly as he takes in an involuntary gasp of breath and says, “It most certainly is! I brought that myself!”

Sunshine directs his focus from the little globes close to his eyes over towards Blueblood. “I’m afraid you’ve been taken advantage of, Blueblood.”

Blueblood mutters through his gritted teeth as he narrows his eyes at Sunshine, “It’s Prince Blueblood.”

Sunshine mumbles, “Mmm I’m sure…” He directs his gaze back to the caviar as he says, “You see. Actual Stalliongrad caviar has a natural black color. But, if you inspect it very… very… closely… you’ll see the black is, in fact, a dark purple… Possibly with a midnight blue highlight.” He holds the cracker out to them and adds, “You see how it seems to be purely black? As if Luna herself took a miniature melon baller to the night skies of a new moon and laid them in a mound on the cracker?”

They lean in and look at it closely as Sunshine points down at it with a single pinion. “That is how you know these are forgeries… a scam… counterfeit I tell you!”

He pops the entire thing into his mouth and then slowly chews as he works it around in his muzzle. “Yes… quite the fake…” He holds up a feather as he noisily smacks his lips and looks around at the ceiling above. “Yes… I see.” He looks down at the two leaning close by and says, “It’s almost the right amount of saltiness… But just a bit too salty… If you didn’t know any better, I could see how one could be entirely fooled by this.” He grabs another cracker and eyeballs it closely as he says, “If I were to wager… I’d say someone simply processed these with the ink from squids to give them their color… But in doing so made them just a bit too salty… These are, in all likelihood, common roe from a freshwater source…” He looks over at the two and frowns as he adds, “Which would potentially mean the possibility of various parasites or foodborne illnesses.”

Blueblood quickly grabs a cracker off a tray with his levitation field and pops the entire thing in his mouth. He chews meticulously as he eyeballs Sunshine, and then his eyes drift around as he gives it some consideration himself. He looks over at Grabby and says softly, “I… I do believe he may be correct… They do seem just a bit salty…”

Sunshine rolls his eyes as he looks over the trays. “Well of course I’m right… I spend enough time with ponies shoving the same trite selections in my face that it’s not hard to spot the discrepancies.” He gives a prim nod as he closes his eyes. “It’s simply all a matter of experience my dear uncultured fellows.”

Blueblood’s left eye twitches as he snorts a few times and tries to contain his temper in spite of the mounting insults. “I do… apologize… for the unfortunate mistake.”

Sunshine waves with a forehoof dismissively in Blueblood’s general direction. “It’s quite alright. As I’ve said, my expectations of your success were quite low.”

“Indeed…” Blueblood replies as he narrows his eyes at Sunshine.

Sunshine grabs another cracker and takes a delicate bite from it, managing to bisect something that was meant to be eaten whole. He chews slowly on the jam covered cheese for a moment as he gives it a thoughtful look. He raises the remaining bit of cracker towards Blueblood as he says, “Well, you certainly have made an impression.” He waves over the trays as he asks, “Blueblood… Would you care to give me your expert opinion on this spread?”

“That’s Prince Blueblood,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure…” quips Sunshine softly.

A lock of hair pops loose from Blueblood’s light amber mane, and he takes a deep breath as he smoothes it down before he replies calmly, at least as calmly as he can manage, “Pertaining to what, Sunshine?”

Sunshine waves a hoof over the trays again as he says, “Well, given your history… I figured it would behoove me to ask someone more familiar with common carnival fare.” He smiles at Blueblood as he asks, “You have had far more experience than I in such matters, and so I thought you could educate me on how one is supposed to enjoy such… simple… pedestrian forms of cuisine…?”

Blueblood’s eyes go wide and he lets out a snort of frustration as, despite how much he tries to hide it, it’s obvious he’s reminded of a certain gala event that he’d rather forget ever happened.

Grabby looks back and forth between the two, noticing the rising tension, and hops over to the table as he claps loudly. “Well! How about we pause the business talk and get to the real meal! It should be done by now, yes!”

He opens the door to the servants’ hallway and the butler at the door quickly scrambles down the hall to fetch what’s requested of him.

A few moments later a group of servants come rushing in, removing the various trays that are still laden with food and barely touched, and the next wave of servants lay out a variety of plates at points in the middle of the table’s length.

Sunshine walks over and examines a plate on his side of the table, while Blueblood and Grabby take up positions on the other side of the length opposite of him. Sunshine gives the silver platter a quick sniff, and the servant to his side removes the metallic dome for him to finally get a view of what is being offered this time.

A neat bundle of pasta, coiled up meticulously to look like some kind of bird nest, is positioned in the center and takes up the majority of the plate. All around it is a variety of herbs and seasonings that have been, along with a few strategically placed dribbles of various sauces, made to be laid out in such a fashion that it appears there is a family of birds flying around the nest. And, in the very center of the nest, is a heap of some kind of thick creamy sauce of such rich color that he’s not sure if it’s a carrot puree, a cheese, or something else entirely. And, across the entire top, but done so with intentional effort and not simply tossed on top, is a carefully manicured layout of truffle slices. All of them laid out in such a way that it creates the hint of a spiral that leads the viewer’s eyes down into the depths of the rich sauce in the center. With a few of the truffle slices even being embedded, and held in place entirely, on its edge within the sauce. Giving the impression that they are being sucked down into the nest.

Blueblood and Grabby watch with interest as Sunshine takes up a fork with his wingtip and takes a small calculated bite from the dish. All while being exceptionally careful not to get any of the very thick creamy sauce over his lips. He gives them a wide smile, and in doing so draws one from their lips as well, before he says, “Well now… I haven’t quite had a pasta fondue before! How delightfully mundane!” He takes another bite as he looks off to the side and puts a hoof to his muzzle as he chews. “It’s almost like the pasta is supposed to be dunked in the cheese individually, instead of eaten as a more traditional pasta…”

Grabby frowns as he takes a bite of the pasta himself, and finds the flavor so rich and creamy that he’s actually having a hard time paying attention to the slights being cast at him from his difficult guest.

Blueblood narrows his eyes as he asks, “You’ve been served fondue… on a plate… on a mountain of pasta? Before?”

Sunshine rolls his eyes and waves a hoof dismissively across the table towards Blueblood as he says, “Oh don’t be so crass and ignorant, Blueblood!” He chuckles. “I was simply making a joke… We are supposed to have an entertaining time, are we not?”

“It’s Prince Blueblood,” Blueblood mutters barely audibly as his left eyelids spasm slightly.

“I’m sure,” Sunshine replies with a quick grin as he looks at him.

“Quite right, quite right,” Grabby says quickly, and loudly, as he tries to redirect the conversation. He looks over at Sunshine as he asks, “Speaking of which, you seem to have led a very thrilling life. What with all of your connections and experiences. What led you to pursue such things?”

Sunshine directs his gaze over to him and waves a hoof dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you know how it goes. Trying to find your own place in the world. Trying to figure out what your particular lot in life is… And eventually I fell into some of the familiar patterns… Having more than I really need. Every whim being taken care of. After a while you just really must find something to do with your time. Something entertaining. So I started learning more about the world. Looking for more things that I could try out and see what actually tickled my fancy.”

Grabby blinks a few times and then asks, “So… out of boredom?”

Sunshine bobs his head around before he nods. “Well when there’s nothing else left, apparently that is the one annoyance that does seem to persist… So I looked towards role models and tried to find my own path in life.”

“Oh?” Blueblood asks with a raised eyebrow. “Like who?

Sunshine taps a hoof to his chin. “Well, my, my… There are so many to choose from… Plenty of examples for intelligence… wit…. strength of will… So many demonstrating such admirable traits.”

“Any in particular?” Grabby asks.

Sunshine grins as he looks at him. “Why, yes, indeed.” He looks to the left and motions towards Blueblood as Blueblood is busying himself with the rest of his plate. “The very one sharing our table with us tonight is certainly in the top of the list.”

Blueblood smiles widely and dips his head in his direction. “Thank you for the compliment. It is quite hard to strive for perfection and to be a model stallion for those following in my shadow.”

Sunshine dips his head in return. “Quite.” He looks over at Grabby as he says, “I must say, out of everything I admire about him. The biggest and most prominent of the lessons I’ve learned from our good Blueblood… is the value of fortitude.” Blueblood looks at him and raises an eyebrow as Sunshine continues, “Strength even. The ability to look adversity in its face, and laugh! Standing tall and proud regardless of what anyone else would do in the same position!”

Blueblood tilts his head as he’s not quite sure what Sunshine is saying. “You flatter me, Sunshine. But, I must admit, I’m not sure of which trials you are referring to.”

Sunshine grins as he replies, “Oh, it’s just that I must say, I admire you, I really do! What strength! What… fortitude!” He leans across the table as he grins widely. “You simply must tell me how you manage it!”

Blueblood looks sideways at Grabby from a moment before returning his gaze to Sunshine. “Manage what?”

“Why, surviving, of course!”

Blueblood narrows his eyes as he raises an eyebrow in obvious confusion.

“I simply can’t fathom how you’ve managed it, to be honest. To be able to show your face in public again after being so thoroughly and humiliatingly rejected when you tried to marry that commoner!” Sunshine giggles and waves a hoof in his direction as Blueblood’s light arctic blue eyes jump open to their max size.

Sunshine points a hoof at Blueblood as he looks at Grabby and continues with a giggling tone in his voice, “And she turned him down! Did you hear?” He looks around at a few of the servants and chuckles as he adds, “Oh I’m sure you’ve heard. You must have! It’s gotten around quicker than it takes for a Hoofington rainstorm to ruin a picnic!”

He leans towards Grabby as he giggles. “From what I understand, he had to be escorted out of the building by security!” He laughs even harder as he taps a forehoof on the table repeatedly. “And now he’s permanently banned from all of the Ministry of Image hubs!” He leans back and laughs louder up into the ceiling before he leans sideways on the table and looks at Blueblood, who, at the moment, has a couple locks of his mane currently curling out of position as his color starts changing along his face and neck.

“I mean, if it were me, not that that could ever happen, I would have been mortified! I would have been horrified! I would have simply curled up in a closet somewhere and died of embarrassment!” He puts a hoof to his chest as he yells, “Oh the tragedy! Oh the humiliation!” He shakes his head and looks over at Blueblood as he asks with his head tilted. “To be an outright laughing stock of the entire world, and unable to convince even a commoner to marry you!” He giggles a few more times before he asks, “Well? Come now! Tell us how you’ve achieved such a high fortitude? How have you managed to not die of embarrassment? Or, at the very least, had the good sense to hide yourself from the rest of society like the laughing stock outcast failure you must certainly feel like?”

Everyone else turns to look at Blueblood after Sunshine finally finishes with their mouth agape. No one knows what to expect from him as he seems like he’s practically shivering while his face and neck slowly radiate a hot pinkish red glow. And the many unruly locks of his mane seem to come alive as they shiver along as if they are preparing to lash out themselves. After a few seconds of this tense atmosphere, he smooths his mane with a hoof as he closes his eyes and uses his magic to dab his lips with a cloth napkin. “Grabby.”

Grabby leans towards him and asks softly, “Yes, Prince Blueblood?”

“I fear I must have come down with something. I’m not feeling quite well at the moment. I shall retire for the evening. I’ll leave business details for another time. If you’ll excuse me.” Blueblood stands up and starts to walk towards the door that leads to the mansion’s large foyer.

Sunshine calls after him as he’s walking away, “It’s no wonder you’re feeling ill!” He looks over at Grabby and points towards the servants’ hall’s doorway. “I told you that caviar was fake. I told you Blueblood was duped. The poor fellow probably has a dreadful case of food poisoning from his own counterfeit caviar!”

Blueblood takes in a deep breath as his mane pops out several disorderly locks of amber hair. He comes to a full stop, shaking a bit more all over before he mutters, “Quite…” and then hurrying out of the room at a faster pace.

Grabby looks at Sunshine and smiles as he quickly trots out of the dining hall behind Blueblood. “I’ll only be a moment, I just need to make sure Prince Blueblood is going to make it home safely.” Almost as if the universe felt the need to make his concern validated, a massive crack of thunder rumbles throughout the hall as a lightning strike not far away blasts light in through the curtains, and around them causing the outside to momentarily turn entirely white from their perspective.

After Grabby has left, and the door is secured behind him again, one of the unicorn servants steps forward next to Sunshine and pours him another glass of fresh clear water using her levitation magic. She leans near his ear and dares a smile as she says softly, “Forgive me for saying so, but you are my personal hero tonight.” He looks at the rose colored mare sideways and raises an eyebrow. She covers her mouth with a hoof as she giggles quietly. “I’ve never seen somepony manage to fluster Prince Blueblood so badly before!”

Sunshine gives a slight nod as he momentarily closes his eyes. “It’s simply a matter of superior breeding.” He leans towards her and grins as he says, “He’s just simply under the false impression that he has something he does not have.”

She giggles again and asks, “May I get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?”

He nods. “Now see, my fine filly, you’ve actually bothered to ask what I would enjoy.” He nods towards the recently closed door. “Instead of trying to force feed me tripe… my sincerest thanks…” He puts a hoof to his chest and gives her a slight bow before he rises up and smiles. “How about an Appletini? With extra olives if you would.”

She nods and turns away from the table as she says quickly, “Right away, sir.”

Out in the hallway the doors do their absolute best to contain the bellowing rage that is pouring out of Blueblood as he stomps around in the study opposite the dining hall. Even with the first set of doors closed, his muffled rampaging can be heard. But, thanks to the second set, the noise doesn’t travel into the dining hall.

The sound dampening wards don’t hurt either.

“Of all of the pre-posterous! Pretentious! Self-centered uncouth disgusting sacks of living waste I have ever seen, he must be the absolute worst!” Blueblood rants as he walks back and forth on the carpet in front of the fireplace, refusing to sit down on any of the lavish chairs that make a semi circle around the merrily burning fire.

Blueblood points a hoof to the door as he looks at it and screams, “He would dare to bring that up?! Who is he to talk down to me, me, Prince Blueblood that way?!” He hops towards the door and screams at it, “Yes! Prince Blueblood!” as his arctic blue eyes seem to practically boil in their sockets.

He starts stomping back the other way as he complains, “I’ve never met a more unpleasantly, snobbish, arrogant, un-reasonable, graceless, uncouth braggart in all of my life!” He spins around and starts walking the other way. “The nerve of that buck!” He looks over at Grabby and Trotsky as he yells, “Nopony’s that boarish! His special talent must be being the most condescending self-important pretentious prick in all of the land!”

The moment he turns his back on them, both Grabby and Trotsky share a glance of momentary mirth at Prince Blueblood getting out-snobbed for once. Instantly going back to sympathetic nodding of understanding the moment he’s looking in their direction again.

After a few more minutes of the nearly endless ranting, when Blueblood’s mostly white face is quite red and he’s having a hard time breathing between repetitive outbursts, Grabby asks, “So, you’ve never crossed paths with him before?”

Blueblood spins around and looks at him in pure unhindered revulsion. “Absolutely not!” He throws a hoof out towards the door as he says, “I would remember meeting someone so horrid as that individual! I do not believe I would be able to avail myself of the memory of meeting such a singularly unpleasant individual. Even with the use of memory manipulation magic!”

Grabby looks over at Trotsky and raises an eyebrow as he’s waiting for an answer to a question he apparently won’t voice.

Trotsky lets out a sigh and looks at Blueblood. “From what I’ve heard, he’s … a bit of a bastard.” He looks over at Grabby and confirms, “He has a habit of finding out exactly what it takes to get under your skin, and pushing just the right buttons… all to find out how you’ll react.” He looks over at Blueblood and shrugs. “No one can tell me if he actually gets off on the nonsense, or if it’s his way of weeding out who he’s willing to work with.”

Grabby raises an eyebrow as he asks, “How could that possibly be a positive thing?!”

Trotsky narrows his eyes as he looks at Grabby and replies, “He gets his shoes licked so often, he has a hard time trusting anyone….” He nods over towards Blueblood as he says, “I get the feeling he sees how far he has to push someone before they reveal their true colors and… well…” He snickers as he puts a hoof to his muzzle before throwing it off to the side and looking at Blueblood, “Dropping the pretentious crap…” He looks at Grabby as he says, “Remember, a lot of those agents operate under the rule of doing whatever it takes to get the job done. Including taking a shit load of abuse…”

Blueblood takes in a few deep breaths before he asks, “So, you are saying, he was so vulgar… just to make sure we weren’t some kind of government official? Changeling or the like?”

Trotsky bobs his head around. “I can’t be certain. But it would make sense.” He looks over at Grabby and says, “The ones that he’s dealt with have, each, and individually, warned me that he’s an insufferable bastard… especially in the beginning…”

Grabby looks over at Blueblood and asks, again, “But you haven’t seen such an individual in the castle? Not even in Canterlot at all?”

“Again, no!” Blueblood snaps.

Trotsky and Grabby exchange glances as Blueblood goes back to pacing in the parlor.

“Well, kindly give this mister Sunshine my condolences… but I will be leaving promptly. I refuse to suffer his company any further.” Blueblood brushes his mane back and looks at Grabby. “I’ll expect you to make this venture work. But, if not, we’ll simply find another source.” He turns towards the door as he adds, “But you’ll obviously have to sort out that other item on your own, I want no part of whatever it is that made both of you so uncomfortable.”

Grabby grins and waves towards the door as he says, “We’ll have a carriage ready for you out front momentarily. Please have a safe journey.” After Blueblood is out of the room Grabby jumps his focus over to Trotsky and snarls, “I do not know what is going on here. But that individual is going to be a problem. And, for some reason, he doesn’t seem worried about any of the ministries cracking down on him, at all. I have my concerns about this.”

Trotsky tilts his head and asks, “What are you thinking about doing?”

Grabby walks around a bit as he says, “We have to make sure he’s really here for what we think he is…” He looks over at Trotsky and asks, “You still have that friend with the memory chair?” Trotsky nods and Grabby continues as he paces back and forth, “Go to them, and have them get it ready. We’ll be using it tonight.”

Trotsky’s eyes go wide, “You plan on kidnapping him and poking around in his head?!”

Grabby bobs his head around as he mutters, “I don’t think we have much of a choice. He knows way too much. Already seems to know more than he should.” He looks over at Trotsky and asks, “How could he have possibly known Blueblood was going to be here? That last attack on him to drive him off was quite specifically tailored to suit him.”

Trotsky waves a hoof. “Knowing how nobles are, there’s lots of animosity and bitterness between them… He’s likely had that lined up for quite a while. If it got Blueblood that bad, I’m sure it wasn’t something he just pulled out of thin air. He’s probably been having phantom arguments with a mirror for quite a while with an imaginary Blueblood as he perfected it.”

Grabby frowns as he says, “Well that brings up other problems too then as well…” He bobs his head as he opens the door. “I’m going to have him stay the night… After a few drinks, and some pleasant company, he’ll be out like a light. And we will be free to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

Trotsky hurries over and asks in a hissed whisper, “And what if he’s serious, and you’re just being paranoid? What if he really is Celestia’s son that you’re going to be kidnapping?”

Grabby waves him off and replies quietly, “We’ll let him go, and he’ll be none the wiser. He’ll just have a really nice sleep, and wake up wonderfully refreshed.”

Trotsky pats him on the shoulder then puts a hoof in his face. “Well don’t go fucking this up. If you do it’s both of our necks on the line.”

Grabby smirks as he looks at him. “It’ll be fine… One way or the other it’ll be handled…” He stops at the door, with it partially open, and closes it again as he stares at the floor for a few moments. He looks back at Trotsky. “You still have that contact with those out of country bounty hunters?”

Trotsky nods as he looks around. “Yeah, of course… but why-” He stops and his eyes go wide. “For fuck’s sake if this goes south you’re literally going to sell him out.” The two stare at each other for a few moments and Trotsky nods. “Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re the boss… I’ll go make the arrangements.”

Grabby grins widely as he opens the door. “Excellent!”

Trotsky slinks out of the room and quickly heads towards the deeper parts of the mansion as Grabby opens the door to the dining hall.

And he’s shocked at what he sees, with Sunshine sitting at the table, apparently thoroughly enjoying himself as the wait staff around the room snicker and laugh at apparently something Grabby wasn’t privy to.

Sunshine waves at Grabby as he’s entering and motions across the table from himself. “Grabby! Come, sit, I was just regaling your staff of the tale of the time I was mistaken as a ship captain!”

Grabby walks around the table and looks down at the plate that he had been eating from not long before.

Sunshine looks down at it, and then up at him as he says, “I’m sorry that being a good host resulted in your dinner getting cold. I’m certain your fine staff would be more than willing to bring you another plate of the delicacy.”

Grabby looks over and sees that Sunshine himself seems to have even eaten a bit more than what he had done before. His eyes linger on the large empty glass with the martini stick still hanging out of it, and the not so empty one being balanced onSunshine’s forehoof. Grabby takes in a deep breath and then looks at Sunshine as he says, “I thank you for your concern. And, indeed, Prince Blueblood was not feeling well. He wished to pass on his regrets at having to leave early.”

Sunshine waves with a hoof dismissively. “Oh posh… having to, and wanting to, are two different things entirely… He wanted to go home, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Sunshine gives Grabby a wide grin as he sips from the martini glass.

Grabby chuckles and bobs his head around as he admits, “That he did, so he did.” He looks behind Sunshine at the closed curtains as he says, “I know you have been quite concerned with the weather. Would you do me the honor of being my guest for tonight?” He waves towards the side as he says, “Spend the night here, rest, recuperate, while enjoying the full hospitality the mansion has to offer… then… hopefully we can start anew tomorrow?”

Sunshine nods as he puts a hoof to his chest. “Yes. I bet the night has been quite trying too for you. Thank you for your honesty!” He dips his head. “I humbly accept your most gracious offer!” He raises his glass in Grabby’s direction as he gives a quick toast, “To our future business venture, together!”

Grabby yanks his glass off of the table and dutifully raises it in Sunshine’s direction with his levitation field before saying, “Here! Here!” and taking a sip as Sunshine does. Afterwards he motions for the servant behind Sunshine to follow him out into the hallway.

They are only in the hallway for a few moments before they come back in, and Grabby points at the rose pelted unicorn mare that comes back over to stand next to Sunshine as he says, “Cherry here will see to your every whim. If there is anything you need, you have simply to ask.” He turns around and starts heading out of the door again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some arrangements to make. Please, make yourself at home!”

Sunshine raises a glass in his direction, and, before he even gets it down, the music coming from the Pony-In-The-Boxes stops as they are shut off and put back in their box by individual magical glows. The servants move around the table, quickly bringing the room to order as Sunshine sits on his side of the table.

Cherry leans over and asks with a slight stutter, “A-are you done, sir?”

Sunshine looks at her and raises an eyebrow, and she nods towards the plate in front of him. “With your meal, I mean?”

Sunshine nods and gives her a broad smile. “Of course. Thank you for your attention.”

She nods and, for some reason, seems to blush just a bit as she gets closer and takes the plate with a hoof. And then she grabs the other dishes that aren’t currently in use from this side of the table and stacks them on a tray nearby.

As Cherry is passing off the stack to one of her coworkers, she asks, “Would you care for another drink, sir?”

Sunshine smiles and nods as he shakes the half full glass. “I wouldn’t turn one down. And… call me Sunny, my friends do after all.”

Cherry flushes just a bit more across her cheeks and nods rapidly as she looks over at one of the butlers and nods towards him.

After finishing his drink, just in time for the butler to walk in with a fresh one and hot swap out glasses for him, Sunshine gets up and looks around the dinning hall.

Cherry asks as she sees him exploring the various art and fixtures of the room, “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go to, sir?”

Sunshine turns to look at her and then asks, “Well, I suppose I have the entire night…” He takes a sip from his glass as he slowly looks her over, trailing from her eyes, down her length, then, for some reason she can’t understand, finishes at her feet. As he’s staring at her dress shoes he asks, “How about the library?”

“What, sir?” Cherry asks as she wasn’t quite expecting that kind of request.

Sunshine waves around with a hoof. “Certainly a home as grand as this has its own library?”

Cherry smiles and nods as she motions towards a door with a forehoof. “Of course, sir. Right this way.” Sunshine walks over and heads out of the hall after she opens the door for him with her magic. Once in the foyer, they turn and head up a large split flight of stairs to the second floor with Cherry in the lead. Sunshine looks back and forth as he takes in the various paintings and sculptures that adorn the hallways they pass through.

Cherry looks back at him over her shoulder and smiles as she asks, “Are you a connoisseur of art too, sir?”

Sunshine looks at her and smiles. He brings a wingtip to his lips as he winks at her. “My dear, Cherry… I’ve already asked you to call me Sunny.”

Cherry flushes and avoids eye contact as she says, “Yes, sir… Sunny.”

Sunshine grins widely and raises the glass in her direction before turning to look at the passing art again. “Not so much an art connoisseur. I can appreciate it… but it would be more accurate to say I’m a student of history.”

She pauses as she looks back at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Si- Sunny!”

Sunshine chuckles as he catches up to her, and bumps her sideways playfully as he says, “See, not that hard, is it?” He looks around and points at a painting of a landscape as he says, “See. This here is a painting that captured the scene… as it was… many many years ago…” He waves a forehoof in front of it as he says, “This is a record of what the Hoofington area looked like at that time. Back before the war… Before the rapid expansion… Before there was really anything in the bowl.” He turns to look at her as he says, ‘Each painting, statue, or piece of art is a snapshot in time. A time that will never be again. And, by looking at it,” he motions towards the painting to their left, “we get a small glimpse of what the world used to be like.

Cherry slowly looks up at the painting and tilts her head. “I’ve never thought of it in that context before.”

Sunshine chuckles and waves a hoof as he doesn’t really look at her. “Most don’t to be honest. Don’t feel too bad about it.”

Cherry shrugs as she looks up at the painting again after glancing as Sunshine. “I don’t know… different paintings have always made me think of feeling different things. Not so much as a way of record keeping.”

Sunshine looks at her and smiles as he asks, “And… what feeling does this painting make you think of when you see it?”

Cherry looks it over and scrunches her muzzle to one side, then the other. Then she lets out a sigh as she shakes her head.

Sunshine reaches over and taps her shoulder gently a couple times. “Come now, Cherry… You did think of something… Share with the whole class!”

Cherry shrugs as she says softly, “It’s going to sound stupid.”

Sunshine shakes his head and puts his hoof to his chest. “I give you my word as a gentlestallion, that I shall not poke fun at it.”

Cherry looks at him and smirks. “Such as you poked fun at Prince Blueblood?”

Sunshine snickers before taking a drink from his glass again. “My dear Cherry, I never gave him any such a guarantee… Now did I?”

Cheery puts a hoof to her muzzle and snickers before she looks up at the painting again. She bobs her head and says softly, “Peace… I look at the painting, and what I think of is how peaceful it looks.” She looks off to the side and says lamely, “I told you it was stupid.”

Sunshine walks by her and bumps her sideways again with a gentle hip check. “It’s not stupid… Because at the moment of time this was captured… the world was at peace.” He uses a forehoof to direct her to look up at him as he says softly, “Never be ashamed of wanting peace. It’s worth fighting for. Of everything you could possibly covet, it’s something that is actually worthy of desire.”

Her eyes jump their focus from one of his blue eyes to the other in rapid succession before she flushes and turns again as she continues down the hallway. She motions towards the immaculately carved wooden door on the left, as she says, “The library is in here. Master Grabby has quite a selection to choose from.” She stands in front of it and motions across the hallway as she says, “And the room across the hall is available for you to retire to in the evening when you choose to do so,” and seems to question him on which route he’d prefer to take.

Sunshine turns to look at the door to the offered quarters, and it opens with the glow of Cherry’s magical aura. He steps to the threshold and peeks in as he says, “Well, it certainly seems of sufficient quality.”

Cherry follows his gaze in, yet hers lingers on the large four poster bed against the far wall of the suite. She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh before she walks forward into the guest bedroom and says, “Allow me to show you the amenities, Si… Sunny.”

Sunshine chuckles and tuts her as he follows her in. “You’re getting the hang of it, you should relax more.”

Cherry nods rapidly and points off to the right side as Sunshine steps in entirely. “There’s a full bath in that room. With a rather large tub to soak in. And, if you wish, there is a shower as well.” She turns to look at him as she smiles and adds, “It’s just a matter of what your preference is... Sunny”

Sunshine turns his head just enough to look at the door to the hallway close behind him with the glow of Cherry’s telekinesis before he turns to look at her again. “Well. I’m usually more of a shower buck. Not a lot of time in the day for dilly dallying… but… a nice long hot bath can put quite the punctuation mark on a long grueling day.”

Cherry walks up to just in front of him as she smiles and looks him over slowly. “And, would you like some assistance… with your bath… Sunny?”

Sunshine smirks as he pays careful attention to her in return. “I could probably use some help with figuring it out…. Yes.”

Cherry blatantly looks him over some more then smiles sweetly as she says, “I can help you in any way you need.” Her magical glow appears around her collar as the tie she’d been wearing slowly unravels, and then she quickly pulls it loose and drapes it over his shoulders. Around his neck as he’s given just the faintest tug closer with the cloth.

Sunshine turns his head to look at the black tie, as it’s magically turned to a red silk color, and turns back in time to look eye to eye with Cherry as she smiles at him with an unmistakable sultry tone to her. She reaches up with a hoof and plays with the tie, and his mane, as she scoots even closer. Simultaneously her suit unbuttons down the front with each sudden flare up of her horn as she intentionally goes slowly and one by one.

Sunshine looks into her eyes for a few moments and then asks as his eyes drift over her form, “So… when you said you can help me with anything… and he said any whim… what you really meant was a … ahem… full… ‘service’ evening?”

She looks off to the side as she reaches up and pulls the front of her uniform closed again with a forehoof. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood you. If that’s not what your wish is, please accept my deepest apologies.” After a few moments of complete silence between them, she looks up at Sunshine and comments softly as she sees him giving the situation careful consideration, “It’s… it’s okay, really…” Sunshine opens his mouth to say something, but she blurts out, “I’m not being forced if that’s what you’re worried about!”

Sunshine looks her over and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Oh, no?”

She shakes her head and looks around as she says softly, “It is … part of the job… sort of… but…” She looks up at him and smiles as she shakes her head lightly. “I can always say no. If whoever it is really strikes me the wrong way, or something else is wrong, there’s a few other fillies…” She raises an eyebrow as she regards him, “and bucks… if that’s your preference…?” She frowns and shakes her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s good money. And I’m well taken care of.” She smiles at him as she tilts her head and steps closer to him, almost flush with him, testing his reaction, and finding that he’s not pulling away from her in the least. “Aaaand I know a few spells to take care of any unwanted problems… So you don’t have to worry about having some illegitimate heir in the future.” She raises a hoof and taps him on the nose as she says with a wink, “And, if I say so myself, and trust me sweetie, I do, I’m quite good at what I do.”

Sunshine smirks as he looks around the room. He pulls the black tie turned red scarf from around his neck, and drapes it back over her shoulders with his wings as he asks, “And … what if my reservation has more to do with not thinking you could handle a buck like me?”

She giggles as she waves it away. “Oh, I’d be even more interested to see if you’re really capable of all that you say… To see if you, uh…” She looks him over along his entire length as she bites her lip, and finishes with looking him in the eyes. “Measure… up… so to speak…”

Sunshine chuckles then leans around as he gently caresses her cheek and whispers softly, “My dear, Cherry… If you were to spend a night in my care… I could hold my breath, and before I would need to breathe again you would turn into an unconscious giggling mess.”

She bats her eyes and asks with a coy grin across her muzzle, “Oh, is that so? Are you willing to put your skills up against mine?”

Sunshine pulls back as he says with a grin. “Most assuredly…” He brings the martini glass up and takes a sip as he is finishing speaking. But, and while he makes hard eye contact with her, he pulls out the olive from the bottom of the glass with his tongue. Her eyes go ever wider as, right there, in plain sight, he gently massages the olive, with his tongue, until the pimento center pops out and floats around in the greenish tinted liquid. He pulls the olive into his mouth and makes a rather wet sucking sound as he gives her a wink.

Cherry’s hind legs start shaking lightly as she stares at him wide-eyed and mouth agape. She shakes her head a bit before she asks with a giggle, “Am I going to have to pay you after this?”

Sunshine leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek as he mutters into her ear, “You might feel obliged too… but consider this a tip… for services rendered.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Down under the mansion, in the massive cellar that takes up half of this ancient mansion’s basement, Grabby walks back and forth in the light of an electric lamp that is resting on a wooden bench covered in papers and diagrams. “I don’t understand this! I said to knock him out! Why won’t you do as you’re asked!?”

The blue coated butler standing not far away waves a hoof as he says apologetically, “But, Master Grabby, I did!” He taps on the stone floor under him. “Repeatedly in fact! That first drink we gave him before he followed Cherry up to his room should have at least made him woozy, but no, nothing. Nothing at all!” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I keep taking drinks up to his room, and he drinks them. I see him drink them!” His eyes go wide as he shakes his head. “He slammed it back in one gulp and gave me back the empty glass! And, to make matters worse, this last time Cherry threw the fireplace poker at me and screamed at me to stop interrupting them!”

Grabby turns his head to look at his butler as he asks, “She didn’t?!”

The butler nods rapidly. “It came flying out of the room at full speed like a spear!” He points up with a forehoof as he says, “It’s currently sticking out of the front of the door to the library across the hall! She almost took my ear off!”

The butler rubs a hoof through his mane as he looks up and shakes his head. “I can’t explain it, sir.”

Grabby rolls his eyes and waves a hoof at him. “Then get him another drink, and eventually between the alcohol, the poison, and Cherry’s immaculate bedroom skills it’ll tire him out enough to finally go to sleep!”

“But, Master Grabby, I can’t!” the butler complains.

Grabby turns to look at him and puts a hoof in his face. “I don’t care what Cherry says. So she’s finally found a buck that can keep up with her. Good for her. But you don’t work for her. You work for me. You both do! So mix up another cocktail and go give it to him!”

“But, Master Grabby, if we give him any more it’ll kill him!” the butler objects.

Grabby’s hoof slowly falls down as he asks, “Do what?”

The butler nods repeatedly. “Sir, I have no idea how he’s still conscious… but he is…” He shakes his head as he says, “I’ve been carefully monitoring how much we give him. And, at this point, we’ve already crossed the line where someone his size is actually reaching the toxic level of this sedative.” He waves a hoof around. “I’m just guessing on his weight, mind you, but much more and it will certainly kill him!”

Grabby rubs a hoof over his chin as he mutters, “He’s probably loaded up with some kind of stimulants…” He chuckles as he looks sideways at the butler, “He’d have to be to have been going at it this long with Cherry and still be able to stand…”

He paces back and forth a few times as he asks, “Well, what about using one of our other poisons? Maybe a lower dose of the more lethal variety?”

The butler frowns as he says softly, “There’s still the chance it’ll kill him… Especially if there’s some kind of interaction between whatever he’s already taken, the sedative I’ve been slipping him, and the alcohol.”

Grabby slaps a hoof over his face as he groans, “Just my fucking luck… the buck I really need to not kill is a sex maniac drug abuser that keeps himself awake and raring to go when I really need him to take a fucking nap!” He holds a hoof over his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fetlock as he mutters, “With that kind of constitution… maybe the rumors about his lineage are true…”

The butler leans over and asks quietly, “Well, what are we going to do Master Grabby?”

Grabby looks at him and opens his mouth, but stops as a familiar voice greets his ears from the dark.

Sunshine steps out of the shadows, and under an old light hanging from the ceiling as he peruses the massive lines of wine bottles in not but his pelt. With his mark of sunbeams shining down through clouds on full display. Like small iconic ‘god rays’ adorning his pelt. “It’s a good thing you actually care to keep the temperature correct down here, otherwise you might have the world’s largest vinegar collection…” He grabs a bottle with a wingtip, pulls it out gently from its position on the rack, and then blows the dust off the label as he says, “At least somepony knew what they were doing when they set this cellar up… Although, you do need to reorganize some of your newer acquisitions… They’ve been put in the wrong sections and will turn if not properly cared for, and soon.”

He sets the bottle back and then casually walks down the rows of lattice like shelving as he looks at the selection and continues, “You know… The thing about poisons is that they have a few problems with them… One,” he rotates a bottle so that its label is facing him, “You never know if the person’s constitution might be able to handle it. To simply brush it off. And there’s always the possibility that they’re a practitioner themselves or, even worse, they have some frustratingly unbelievable genetic immunity to it…” He looks over at them and smirks. “Then there’s the other problem… Of them being like a calling card… each one practically unique with how it was manufactured, prepared, and administered… so… once you have a sample… Saaaaay…” he turns and grabs a bottle from the shelf as he gently brushes the dust off of its label with his wingtip. “From a dead intelligence agent’s bottle of whiskey… You could compare it to its source, no problem.”

Grabby spins around and uses a hoof to send papers around the desk scattering as he frantically looks for his goal. He slams his hoof into an open crate that is filled with moss used for packaging, and sends the wooden box scattering across the floor with his magical aura. He spins back around with a magical energy pistol in his grip, physically letting go as his levitation field takes over now that he can see it.

Just in time to see his butler scream and fall over at his side.

And Sunshine standing almost muzzle to muzzle with him, with the exact same stun rod that took down his butler sparking not far from Grabby’s throat. Sunshine grabs the pistol with his free fetlock at the same time he’s closing the distance with the electrical arcing rod.

A rod with enough power that it actually arcs into Grabby’s throat the moment it was within an inch of it, making the actual contact that Sunshine forces into him unnecessary and redundant. Except to help him fall over to the other side and away from the butler’s body. But, it is obviously a lesser dose of electricity than he had given the butler as he is still conscious, though discombobulated.

Sunshine looms over him as he says evenly, “Don’t worry… I’m not going to kill you, Grabby…” He leans down as he lowers the stun rod to just the very end of Grabby’s muzzle, but not quite enough to arc towards him again. “You see… Dash particularly hates traitors… and… well,” he grins widely as his eyes flare open to their max size, “Pinkie Pie just can’t wait to throw you a personal ‘Party Warty’!’ He zaps him to make Grabby jerk and scream. Then keeps on doing it, while moving the point of contact around, zapping different areas with lower voltage meant more to cause pain than damage, while adding, “I realize I’m relatively new to all of this, but did you and your friends really think you’d get away with what you’d done to Applejack?” He zaps him a few more times along the side in rapid succession before continuing blazing the painful trail over Grabby’s body. “Forget being a Ministry Mare. That’s its own level of screw up… No… She’s been friends with Dash and Pinkie for ages; how stupid are you?!”

There is a pause as he slowly looks over the twitching Grabby who is currently having a hard time breathing from screaming so loud and so much. His once majestic looking and expensively manicured mane has frazzled out from the electricity coursing throughout his body. Instead of the artistic sculpture of hair, it now looks more like a giant puff ball of cotton or like the seed head of a dandelion right before they get carried away.

“Oh, and this one’s for that maid you left bleeding from the flanks in the alley,” as he’s finishing the statement he slams the end of the electric prod right into the noble’s sheath, electrifying him in an extremely tender place perpetually until he does, finally, pass out from the pain and lack of oxygen.

He flips the electric prod around and opens the bottom of it by untwisting the ornate cap. After pressing the now removed gem into the other side of the rod he comments calmly, “Package has been secured… send in the Garbage Collectors. We got what we need…”

Footnote:

65 U-turn on the Turnpike

While the others spend the night sleeping in the half buried wagon that Swift had found, Gearing keeps an eye out for any sign of trouble. But, given all of the problems he’d had recently, he’s decided to keep his EFS on. More to help him stay aware of his surroundings with less effort, while he does what he really wanted to do, than anything else.

Which was, and is, to try and figure out what in Tartarus was going on with his PipBuck and his implants. Before his eyes the unique enchantment connecting him to his implants works with the matrix that displays the EFS over his vision to show him lines of code and alerts.

So many alerts.

But, despite his best efforts, he’s been left frustrated. The only thing he’s been able to glean out of the garbage being shown to him was that his PipBuck and internal implants seem to be under the impression that they have been breached. Hacked. That their security has been compromised. They are screaming at him via alert bombardment about the security failure that has been detected. But, they can’t tell him when, who, or where it took place. Only that it’s recently been discovered.

And, worst of all, it seems to be locking out segments so that even he can’t access them. It’s going on full lockdown mode and has been quickly working to try and hide its own existence as it partitions entire segments into apparent oblivion. Not that most of it was even working currently anyway; thanks to whomever it was that blasted him with that weapon that knocked him out for two centuries. But, it’s still a concern. He’s going to need access to those hidden files eventually. It’s only a matter of time before that becomes important. Critically so even. But, thankfully, not everything has been spirited away to digital hell.

Some of his lower security protocols are still active, and valid. But, even more frustratingly for the situation, he can’t figure out why they won’t physically manifest. From everything he can tell, which he readily admits isn’t much, the system should be working. There’s nothing wrong with it as far as he can tell. It’s almost as if the system is waiting for something before it gives him what he wants.

But, unfortunately, he’s not a mind reader. So he doesn’t know what it wants him to do, or needs from him, before it starts working again. So they are at an impasse. With the pair waiting on each other, or, possibly, something else. Something else that hasn’t happened yet.

Feeling rather frustrated, and hoping to find some kind of outside inspiration, Gearing starts using his inventory sorter to double check everything he has on himself. To make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. He’d left quite a bit back at Megamart because he didn’t want to be bogged down. And, like had happened at Megamart, his eyes entirely jump over one entry in his inventory list as he disregards an item he has on himself out of pure training. But, this time, he actually realizes what he just did and goes back to it again.

Stealthbuck Mk I

He selects it and quickly removes it from the top of his bag, where the sorting enchantment had placed it, to look it over.

Gearing starts slowly turning the little module between his hooves by holding it by opposite angled corners and spinning it along that awkward axis slowly. He’d pretty much forgotten he’d had it. He got it from that caravanner as an extra bonus for something. Something that still doesn’t make sense to him. He’d simply brushed it off at the time since he’d gotten what he wanted and she seemed happy with what she received in exchange. But, now that he actually thinks about it, that entire interaction was strange.

Several other caravanners, shopkeepers, and individuals he’d met this side of the apocalypse cross his mind’s eye. Some of them he’s gotten to know better than others. The ghoul mare is definitely in the latter category as he wonders if she’s also connected to The Finders in some way. He’d run into Short Road down that way, and he was a Finder, so Gearing knows it’s not unheard of.

Although, he realizes he never even got her name. So he can’t use that to ask anyone. And going by description alone feels like a slimy way to go about it.

Connections are important. For a variety of reasons. And while the little module has done nothing but add weight to his pack and take up space, he’s sure it’ll come in useful sometime in the future. He’s aware it’s not as good as one of the Zebra cloaks. And this little thing only has enough of a charge for maybe an hour before it expends its single use. As well as a whole lot of other drawbacks that make Stealthbucks technically and functionally inferior to their zebra counterparts. He’s aware of all of that. But, he’s also aware that it might tip the scales in his favor when careful movements and noise discipline won’t be enough. A time when he truly will need to disappear from sight.

Especially given all of the failures he’s having with his implants. And the problems they are causing for him because of that fact. And he knows, without a doubt, that support won’t be available to help him out of any jams he may get into. He’s already made his last call for reinforcements he’s ever going to have answered. He’s lacking equipment. Knowledge. Options. Practically everything he’s used to having at his disposal. All gone. He’s on his own. And there’s no one left anymore that he can ask for help.

Well, he could ask, technically, but when you already know what the answer is, what’s the point?

He continues mindlessly twirling the module with his hooves as he returns to the vast array of complaints from his alerts and mentally swears at the universe, What I really need is someone that can do what I can’t…

It’s times like this when he really misses his support team. Because, as good of a technician as he is, he simply can’t work on himself. Especially to the degree he really needs.

* * *

For some unidentifiable reason, both Handy and Swift slept in exceptionally late. And Gearing was so focused on dealing with his own issues, while keeping watch, he didn’t bother checking the clock while he waited for them to wake up. And with the constant overcast sky, the amount of light cutting through the clouds that are perpetually threatening rain makes it hard to judge time. So because of yet another late start, by the time they are getting close to the area where Chapel is supposed to be the day is already well underway and getting closer to night than morning.

Swift looks at her PipBuck as she trots along not far from the other two. She’s taken the lead for a short period, as the trip, and general lack of action, is starting to make her antsy. She pauses and looks over at Handy and Gearing as she comments, “We’re getting close. It’s supposed to be around here somewhere. Can’t miss the church. Apparently its top can be seen from a distance.”

Gearing likewise pauses and looks at the map of the local area on his PipBuck. He zooms in and scrolls around a bit as he tilts his head one way and then the other. And something nags at him as something about the topography strikes a chord with him. He zooms out a bit more, to get a better view of the region in general, and a smirk crosses his muzzle as it finally dawns on him.

He scrolls over to an area not far away, and starts chuckling as he stares at the map. His giggle fit draws the attention of the other two, and makes them look over at him as they were just in the middle of a quiet conversation between themselves before he started impersonating a quiet hyena.

Swift smirks as she looks him over and asks, “Hey, Gearing, what’s so funny?”

Gearing points off to the side as he chuckles. “Oh… I just realized where we are… Someone I know lives around here… well…” he chuckles a bit more and shakes his head. “Knew and did live around here… You get what I mean, right?”

Handy looks at him and has a slight smile on his muzzle before asking quietly, “Good memories?”

Gearing nods and looks off to the side towards where he’d pointed as he chuckles. “Yeah. One of the best, really.”

Swift’s ears droop as she asks, “Friend of yours? Sorry.” Gearing looks over at her with a raised eyebrow and she waves it off with a forehoof. “Oh, sorry, I don’t mean to dredge up painful memories when you just had a nice one to think about.”

Gearing pulls his cowl back and grins widely at her as he asks, “Friend? Are you kidding?”

Handy sits down as he asks, “More than friends? Family?”

Gearing tilts his head back and laughs loudly, echoing off the local ruins of a few buildings before he goes back to looking at them. “Oh hell no!” He snickers a few times. “I hated that pompous fucker.” Both Swift and Handy’s eyes jump wide and Gearing offers, “Oh, yeah. Hated his guts.” He holds up a forehoof and winks at them as he says, with an oversized grin plastered across his muzzle, “I tried, repeatedly, to get that bastard arrested for treason!” He shakes his head. “I tell ya, that whole family was trash. From the bottom up, and regardless of how distantly related they were.” He chuckles some more as he tilts his head and looks at them. “But when you’re dealing with nobles, you have to make sure everything is more than adequate for the conviction. Otherwise they won’t even bother.” He waves a hoof off to the side towards the mansion in question, pointing right towards it through the nearby rubble and over the horizon. “And that disgusting slimy weasel always managed to squirm out of trouble… too much ‘reasonable doubt’… always had an excuse.” He snorts and looks off towards the family’s estate as he narrows his eyes at it. “Conveniently so…”

Handy and Swift look at each other for a second before looking at Gearing again and Swift asking, “What the hell’s so funny then? If you hated the prick so much, how could there be any pleasant memory to that?”

Gearing looks over at her and grins again as he waves a hoof off in the distance again. “Well, one of the times I thought I had his ass was connected to an assassination attempt on one of the ministry mares. They almost succeeded, she was bad off for awhile. He got out of it, but he still had a hell of a lot of explaining to do and they ran his ass through the ringer that time because a friend and business partner of his was blatantly guilty beyond all reasonable doubt for sure. On the very night of the arrest they were conspiring together, and the one moron tried to kill the agent investigating him. But, luckily for Blueballs, he’d already left before all of that went down. And while he was involved in some shady dealing, it wasn’t treasonous levels… so, being the noble he is, he got a slap on the hoof and sent on his way… again…”

Swift’s eyes practically sparkle as she asks, “His name is Blue-balls?!”

Gearing giggles and grins at her widely. “That’s what I call him… and, trust me, there’s a great story behind that one too!”

Handy tilts his head as he narrows an eye and asks, “What’s a repairpony doing with investigations and trying to get ponies arrested?”

Gearing looks at him and smirks as he asks, “Handy, come on now, you of all ponies, being a repairpony yourself, should know better than that…” He looks over at Swift as he throws out his wings and strikes his high winged, light scattering pose for the first time in a while. “There’s a reason they say never to piss off a nerd with admin privileges… and that fucker got on my list the first time I heard about him. Before I’d even met him.”

“Yeeaaah… dirty little secrets are easy to dig up for someone that knows what they’re doing when they’re on accessible networks,” Swift comments as she looks at Handy. She shakes her head and giggles some more before she turns and continues walking. “Can we get a move on though? I’d love to hear more about this Blue-balls noble, and where the hell that name came from, but later. We’ve burned too much of the day already.”

Gearing nods as he starts following. “Yeah, sure. His ass is good and dead by now. Otherwise I’d probably stop by just long enough to introduce his face to a shotgun. Repeatedly.”

Handy walks alongside him as he asks, “You’d really just walk up and shoot him if you saw him now?”

Gearing looks at him sideways before letting out a long agitated sigh. “Handy, look. It’s purely hypothetical. He’s dead. Long dead. If you knew anything about nobles, being a noble would be all you’d needed to know. But, besides that, I know that buck’s quality and character. I know what kind of buck he is. His greed and selfishness. How he only cares about himself and his own image. The shit he’d gotten away with. If he were still alive, without a government to worry about retaliating on him, he’d be a horrible monster.” He waves a hoof dismissively as he adds, “Knowing him the way I do, I bet he’d have no problem with slavery, and murder… hell… he already thought everyone else was beneath him back then… Can you imagine what someone like that would be like in a world like this?!” Gearing snorts then shakes his head again. “So, yeah, I would…” He turns his head to look at Handy just long enough to add, “And I bet you bits to doughnuts it would barely take a cursory look afterwards to find out it was fully justified… because bucks like that…” He stares ahead as he snorts and narrows his eyes. “Never change.”

Handy keeps looking at him for a few moments before he nods. “I believe you. Ponies that get stuck in that ‘the world is all about me’ mentality typically are pretty horrible.”

Gearing looks over at him, and sees the deadpan expression across Handy’s face. Gearing gives a slight dip of his head before rising back up as he’s replacing his cowl. “Thank you!”

Handy nods as he goes back to walking alongside him and looking ahead towards where Chapel is supposed to be. “Yup.”

The little dark blue winged Big Macintosh knock off in Gearing’s head starts hopping around and waving his hooves to get Gearing’s attention. ‘Hey! Hey! Besides that Blueballed asshole’s house, remember what else is around here? Huh?! Huh?! Huh?!’

Gearing’s eyes go a bit wider as the realization strikes him.

The little pegasus bounces around on the tips of his hooves as he begs, ‘Can we go to the museum? Please?! We never had time before!’

It probably got trashed by the bombs, Gearing mentally groans in reply.

‘Well… then…’ The little blue pegasus looks at him with big soulful eyes. ‘Maybe that means we can… get some free souvenirs?’ He sheepishly taps his forehooves together. ‘Like, maybe, a couple whole exhibits worth? Or whatever’s left?’

Loot the museum!?

The little blue pegasus puffs up his cheeks and looks off to the side as it says, ‘Well, not like anypony else would want it… and better in our hooves than left to rot… right?’

Gearing can’t help but admitting the little pony in his head does have a valid point. Which sends the little blue pegasus cart wheeling in his mind space in excitement. But that gets tempered into disappointment when Gearing mentally adds, If there’s time, sure.

The little blue pegasus flops down onto its haunches, folds it forelegs across its chest, and scowls at him with a massive pouting lower lip as it mutters, ‘You always say that… and there’s never time…’

“You alright, Gearing?”

Gearing shakes his head and looks to his side as he sees Handy staring at him rather intensely. “What, Handy?”

Handy waves a forehoof at him and repeats, “You alright? You seemed to have gotten lost in thought or something. Wasn’t sure if it had to do with what we were just talking about or something else.”

Gearing shakes his head again before waving it off with a forehoof. “Oh, nah. I’m good. Just thinking about what to do once we’re done with all of this nonsense.”

Handy lets out a small chuckle as he tilts his head and gives Gearing a crooked smile. “I try not to do that… Plan too far ahead and things always crop up and screw it all up.”

Gearing snorts in amusement as he nods. “Ain’t that the truth… but, if I don’t work on something, even just thinking things through, even if it turns out to be a complete waste of time… I’ll go nuts.”

‘Short trip’, the little blue pegasus in his head comments bitterly as he folds his forehooves tighter across his chest.

“I hear ya there!” Handy says with a chuckle.

Gearing looks at him sideways and shakes his head as he chuckles in mutual amusement. But, after a few moments, he looks over at Handy and asks, “So, what’s going on? Really? Are you okay?”

Handy looks at him and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Uh, yeah, why?”

Gearing waves a forehoof at him and replies, with a slight chuckle, “You’re acting like you’re not thoroughly disgusted with the fact of my mere existence…” He tilts his head and leans away from him a bit, while still walking and looking at Handy. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was almost as if you actually liked me.”

Handy hangs his head and lets out a grumbling groan as a scowl appears across his muzzle.

Gearing points a wingtip at him through the ratty blanket and chuckles, “Now see, that’s more like it!”

Handy looks at him sideways and mutters, “You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”

Gearing chuckles some more as he peeks out from under the cowl at him and grins. “Only ‘sometimes’? You ill or something?”

Handy rolls his eyes then looks straight ahead as he replies, “Look, Gearing… I don’t hate you, alright?”

“Coulda fooled me,” Gearing quips.

Handy avoids looking at him as he adds, “Gearing, you scared the shit out of me.” He looks over at Gearing and frowns as he says, “I had no idea what the hell you are-“

“I told you,” Gearing replies as he narrows his eyes at Handy. “Blatantly, and from the get-go. Repeatedly at that.”

Handy shakes his head as he scowls. “Dammit, Gearing! We’ve dealt with the Institute… They’ve been after us ever since we escaped!” He points a hoof at Gearing. “You’ve run into at least two of their trickery bullshit. With Bradoak, that synth of Scarlet, and their damn teleportation pad inside the stable.” He shakes his head hard. “And that’s just part of what they are capable of. For all I knew you were another of their tricks. Another of their machines sent to screw us when our guard was down-”

Gearing snarls, “I’m not a fucking machine-!”

“I know!” Handy cuts him off, earning a startled look from Gearing for once. Handy lowers his head and groans as he says, “I get it now, okay? I’m sorry!” He looks over at Gearing as he replies softly, “I’m sorry I treated you like that. I’ve thought it through, and everything that’d happened, and I’ve realized just how badly that must have been for you.” He grits his teeth as he grumbles. “I feel like shit over it already, okay?!” He looks over at Gearing and scowls as he says, “Dammit, I’m trying to apologize here, Gearing!”

Gearing stares at him for a few moments, as he sees the conflict across Handy’s face. Not just anger. But that may be directed at himself and not Gearing or anything else. Especially with the slight tinge of embarrassment and sadness mixed in. Gearing takes in a deep, unnecessary, breath before letting it out in a sigh. “Okay, Handy, apology accepted…” Handy’s face instantly lights up in response, but, just as quickly screws into pure confusion as Gearing finishes, “Conditionally.”

Handy shakes his head a few times before asking, “Conditionally? How the hell do you accept an apology ‘Conditionally’?” He tilts his head. “What kinda condition too?”

Gearing smirks at him as he says, “On condition that you actually remember that fact, and treat me as such. If I’m an asshole because I’m being an asshole, then call me an asshole. If the horseshoe fits… wear it… But don’t go treating me like some damn machine. I never have and never will respond well to that bullshit. Deal?”

Handy opens his mouth to say something in reply, but gets cut off as Swift lands next to him from where she’d came back and started circling over them while they were in the middle of their discussion, “And that applies to Sable too, Handy.” Handy looks over at her and raises an eyebrow so she shrugs and replies, “Sable’s his special somepony… his marefriend… You’ve seen them together.” She points a hoof at herself as she adds, “Think of how you’d feel if somepony was constantly questioning my right to exist.” Handy’s eyes jump wide open and she smiles as she asks, “Sound familiar?”

He nods, so she does as well as she replies, “Good… so keep that in mind when dealing with Sable.” She looks off to the side as she mutters, “And maybe she’d be less inclined to ash you…”

Gearing looks over at Handy sideways as he says slowly, “I would… appreciate the consideration… for her… as well…if you would.”

Handy groans as he slaps a hoof over his face. “I’ll try, okay? That’s all I can promise. So, please don’t get pissed at me if I make a slip… I mean, after all, my grandfather designed and built her chassis and I modified it… so it’s hard not to think like that.”

Gearing smirks as he directs his face towards Handy. “Yeah? Well, I guess all we can ask for is that you make the concerted effort…” Handy nods, so Gearing adds, “But, after all, we all know changelings are far more than they appear… but focusing and keeping mindful of what they currently are is far more beneficial for them… And, like that, the effort to keep it in mind is important…” He looks between the two as he asks, “Right?”

Handy’s eyes go wide as they dart around quickly. He looks off to the side as he snorts and says softly, “Uh… yeah… I guess so… strange analogy though.” He lets out another sigh as he says, “I’ll try. I’ll really try. I promise.”

Swift giggles as she leans over and kisses his cheek. “Look at you being all sensible! And, are you blushing?! You’re adorable too!” She leans over and licks his cheek, startling the flustered look right off his face as he reaches up with a foreleg and wipes off the excessive slobber. While Handy is trying, in vain, to recompose himself, Swift points a forehoof ahead and comments, “I think that’s Chapel up ahead there,” and then starts leading the way.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head greedily rubs his forehooves together as his grin turns comically massive and sinister. ‘So, how are we doing this? Long distance tag? Or, maybe, an old fashioned snatch and grab so we can throw them a personal Party Warty and find out all their dirty little secrets?’

We’ll figure it out after we scope the place out and confirm the little monster’s identity, Gearing mentally promises.

As they approach the small community built along the Fillydelphia turnpike, Gearing isn’t entirely sure what to expect when he gets into the ‘town’. In his mind he’d been expecting the place to look like some sort of raider den. More spikes. Maybe some dead ponies strung up or on spits as a warning to others to follow the rules. Like those raiders in the Hoofington Police Department district headquarters. Something that would fit his mental image of a scummy immoral pony that has no problem with exploiting and preying upon small foals for their own benefit. A slaver like those at Tower’s Towing. Something sinister.

Something other than what greets him as he’s led into the small settlement of a half dozen buildings.

It looks like one of those towns that you blink and you miss while flying overhead. There seems to be a post office, a church, and a couple other buildings. All bounded by a picket fence. Scattered around the structures are even tiny gardens in raised beds. Each with some form of covering made of canvas or tarps. Whether it’s to protect the crops from being poached by airborne wildlife, or from Hoofington’s bitchy weather, Gearing can’t tell.

All that he can tell is the town seems quaint. Even if most of the buildings are in real need of some serious work. And definitely not at all like the wasteland-chic prison-like menacing fortress he’d imagined the place to be.

His mind zips through various lines of thought. Second, and triple, guessing everything he’s seeing. No where in the wasteland is untouched. Nothing wholesome. He’s been accused of the same. So something has to be up. But, then again, isn’t he proof of the exact opposite? That kindness and goodness can exist in Equestria again? He likes to think so. But then again, that’s not a fair comparison, as somepony here is definitely exploiting children.

And the sheer number of youth in the town seems to confirm it. He doesn’t see any adults. Although, the blue flag with the rearing white filly fluttering in the breeze doesn’t really inspire fear in him. It doesn’t seem to be designed with the same sort of malice behind most of the raiders’ and gangs’ emblems he’s run across so far. But, then, where are all of the adults? Where’s this loan-shark they’re looking for? His confusion and anxiety simply grows with each step that answers are withheld.

Gearing stays hidden under his cloak, peeking out back and forth side to side as they travel while he debates on the best plan of action. He could simply wait outside of the town, out of sight, and take the shot from there. He’s confident enough in his aim that he knows he could buy the children’s freedom with a single round of ammunition. But, before that, he needs a good look at his target. Needs to make sure who he’s going to be taking down. He hasn’t told Swift yet, but this loan shark’s life expectancy has been rapidly dropping the closer Gearing’s gotten to Chapel. He’s not sure how she’d feel about premeditated murder of an otherwise noncombatant. He doesn’t want to get her involved. By not telling her he gives her a chance at plausible and real deniability. He’ll even admit it if it comes to the fact. But, he’s not going to let this continue. Equestria needs to get better. Not worse. And loan sharks practically enslaving children with immense debt is helping nopony.

Nopony but the loan shark obviously.

Swift motions towards the white church as she looks back towards Gearing and finally gets his attention. “Hey, you alive back there?”

Gearing shakes his head and looks at her from behind the cover of his cloak. “Uh, yeah, sorry, what’s up?”

Swift frowns and shakes a hoof at the Church again. “I’m going in there to see if I can find out who we’re supposed to talk to.” She shrugs. “A church is as good of a place as any to start… Coming?”

Gearing looks over at the building and his eyes start sweeping over its exterior. A lot of the windows in the church have been boarded up. But then again, the wooden boards have a half decent coat of paint. Maybe an improvised white wash?, he ponders. It’s the best taken care of building in the whole settlement as far as he can see. Though that’s not saying much. At least it’s had some work done on it since the apocalypse. Far more recently too. His eyes trail over it slowly. But then they stop. And his whole body freezes as he stares at one of the windows.

There, above the door, somepony has let their creative juices flow. A hoofmade mosaic composed of small pieces of semi-transparent glass demands his attention. Given the meager supplies that must have gone into making it, and the world as a whole, it’s pretty well done. Especially as the image of the pony looking back at him is unmistakable.

Luna.

She stares out at the world with a sort of calm and confident look that Gearing is quite certain others might find comforting. Maybe even endearing. But, as he stares at it, he feels like she’s staring down at him. Smugly. With a condescending note.

As if she were saying, Yes, you foolish clockwork, I know you’re here. Dare you enter?

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head had already jumped back into its steam chest at the first glimpse of the window’s occupant, and is currently in the process of rolling itself towards the void of Gearing’s mind in a desperate bid to escape.

Swift can’t help but look up at what Gearing is staring at, and a smile crosses her muzzle. She admires it for a few moments before looking back at Gearing. “Coming in, or deciding if you want to make one too?”

Gearing blinks, and then slowly lowers his head to look at her as every other facet of his body has completely locked up. A moment later, and without blinking again, he replies, “No. To either.” He abruptly turns, blocking his view of the entire building with his cloak as he says, “I’ll be out here…”

Swift nods and smiles before continuing on through the door, with Handy not far behind her.

Camped outside, Gearing looks around at the young colts and fillies that are walking around within the town. Many are tending to the gardens. A few are playing here and there with each other or one toy or another.

And he can tell all of them are keeping tabs on him as he walks away from the church. Life in the wasteland is rough. And these children know better than anypony that you can’t trust everypony.

A small group of kids playing with a variety of toys catches his attention as he’s aimlessly walking down the old road.

A gray colt in the group lets out a sad annoyed sigh. “Awww… the wheel broke off…”

One of the fillies shrugs as she replies, “You say that like you’re surprised.”

The colt frowns as they hold up the little wagon with the wheel held on with, and dangling by, a piece of wire. “I thought I’d fixed it…”

Another colt gets the others’ attention and nods towards Gearing as he’s heading in their general direction. They get up, and quickly scamper off, a couple leaving behind the items they’d been playing with in the process of making good on their escape. All of them zip into the post office and peek out at him from the safety of the building. For someone taking such pains to hide themselves so thoroughly must be hiding something. Something they most likely want nothing to do with. Caution has served them well thus far, so they see no reason to abandon good common sense at this point in their lives.

Gearing’s cloaked form continues on right through where they just had been. Not missing a stride as he walks straight through and among the toys they’d abandoned on the side of the road. All of them watch him closely, seeing if he’s following them, and paying attention to little else.

None of them notice that the broken wagon, with its dangling wheel, had simply vanished as the cloaked figure walked over it.

Gearing curves around and sits down in the middle of the road. Outwardly he’s seemingly keeping watch down the path towards the Hoofington Core as he settles down and gets comfortable. Although his cloak moves every now and then, betraying the fact that he’s not entirely immobile under there.

A few moments later Swift calls him to get his attention, causing him to turn his head back around to look at her.

She points towards the post office and says, “They’re in there.”

Gearing nods but doesn’t get up. He waits until she’s closer before he even starts walking towards the door, but even then at a slow pace, as he lets Swift and Handy go in first. He enters the door of the post office a few paces behind them and quickly starts scanning the interior. Once inside he carefully takes note of the entire layout while he’s looking for this horrible pony that’s supposed to be in charge.

His target. The proverbial candle that needs snuffing out.

The inside of the post office seems to be one part shop, one part flop house, and one part foalsitting center. There are a variety of toys scattered around on the floor and Gearing can’t help but wonder if that’s one of the selling points to get the kids to stick around. He spots the little gray colt that had the wagon, as the youth is currently watching Swift and Handy intently with his friends. The little group looks back and forth between Gearing, and the other two adults, as they try to assess the situation.

Swift puts on her widest smile as she waves at the little filly behind the counter. “Hi! You’re Charity, right?”

The yellow filly’s eyes jump wide open and practically sparkle as she looks back and forth between Swift and Handy. “Welcome to Charity’s! What are you buying?”

Gearing’s head whips up quick enough that the cowl on his hood lifts up and off him momentarily before fluttering back down over his head as he gawks. He jabs a hoof out at the small yellow shopkeeper as he blurts out, “That’s Charity?!”

Swift looks back over at Gearing and nods as she confirms, “Well, yeah?”

Charity leans sideways, looking around Swift, and grins at Gearing. “You need something too? Buying or selling?”

Gearing’s head flops down loosely from his neck as he starts muttering to himself.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comes flying out of the void, sending its steam chest flying through the air, as it hops over and points at Charity in disbelief.

One by one the mental images he’s pictured of what Charity looks like manifest in his mind’s eye, and then shatters. The ‘might makes right’ raider leader. The snobby noble wearing a dress made of gems and money. The bulbously fat mare using foals as a mobile throne. They all shatter into a million pieces.

And, in their place, is a little yellow unicorn filly eating a lollipop.

The real Charity.

The little blue pegasus in his head looks back and forth between Charity, and Gearing as it repeatedly throws its forehooves out in her direction. It obviously has a hard time grasping what’s going on as its eyes have grown larger than his head and his jaw has fallen down so far it has circled around Gearing’s mind space and is currently actually dangling above the little pegasus’s own head.

Gearing agrees. This is unexpected. Unprecedented even. Ever since he’d run into the quartet, and found out about their ridiculous debt, he’s been plotting the murder of a loan shark. Of a practical slaver that had burdened children with such an outrageous amount of debt they’d probably never be able to pay it off. Thus keeping them permanently in their debt and under their hoof. Only to find out that this mastermind. This horrible individual. This antithesis to their own name.

Was a youth herself.

Gearing quickly realizes he needs to reevaluate his plan of action, and figure out what he’s going to do. He spins around in a circle and starts heading back out of the door as he keeps his head low. “I gotta go… I’ll be back,” he mutters as he quickly makes his way back out of the old post office.

The gray colt jerks, then looks down at his side where he just felt something bump his haunch as he sat on the floor a respectable distance away from the adults. He quickly grabs the wagon, as it’s rolling backwards away from him, and lifts it up with his forehooves. He brings it up to his muzzle and closely inspects it, and then starts rolling it around on the floor in front of himself before he looks at his friends next to him with a confused expression of absolute shock on his face. “It’s fixed!”

The others with him look at it, and then out at the mottled cloaked figure that quickly disappears into the street.

Charity nods towards Gearing’s direction and asks, “What’s his problem?”

Handy just waves it away and chuckles. “That’s just Gearing. Don’t bother trying to figure him out, you’ll hurt your brain.”

Swift scowls at Handy and then looks over at Charity as she says, “He’s probably just off looking for something to fix. He doesn’t like being bored… And, since we got in here first, he probably didn’t want to seem rude by cutting in line.” She flashes a wide smile and looks at Charity as she hopes she can butter up the little yellow filly enough to at least work with her.

Charity shrugs then looks at Swift. “Well, what are you looking for anyway?”

Handy looks her over with a frown as he says, “Was told we should talk to you about Andante and his sisters; you know them?”

Charity’s eyes go just a bit wider before they zip back and forth between Handy and Swift. She gives them another quick appraisal as she asks, “Are you their parents?”

Swift quickly waves it away with a hoof. “Nothing like that. We’ve known them for a while, but hadn’t seen them in months.”

Charity narrows her eyes at them and slowly looks back and forth as she asks, “What do you want with them?”

Handy shakes his head. “We aren’t looking for them. We know where they are. They’re the ones that told us how much they owe you.” He tilts his head as he looks her over. “What’d they do to owe you so much? They break something? If that’s the case we might be able to fix it for you.”

Swift nods and waves towards Handy. “There’s two very good repairponies here. If the kids broke something I’m sure between the two of them they can fix it. So, is there any way you’d be willing to lower their debt?”

Handy mutters, “I still wanna know what the hell was worth so much to saddle a group of foals with that…”

Charity lets out a sigh and frowns at Swift. “Look. It wasn’t about the caps…” She looks over at the other children and nods to a group sorting through a box of salvage they’d just brought in from outside. “They didn’t know what they were doing, but we could help them figure it out. Those four came in here and I could just tell they had all the sense of a stable pony.” She shakes her head. “They were too carefree and not really paying attention to anything. Always too busy singing. They didn’t want to stay. They just wanted some supplies so they could carry on going where they’re going. They’d said they can’t stay in one spot too long… I figured someone might be after them, or they’d run away from home.” She looks back and forth between Handy and Swift again as she keeps monitoring their reactions.

She frowns as she adds, “They didn’t have any caps, so I put it on their tab, and told them they could help the others and pay it off that way.” She shrugs. “I figured while they were trying to pay me off they could learn how things actually work outside of a stable. That they could stick around and have a safe place to stay while they sorted it out.” She looks at Swift and frowns harder. “Instead, they left a note and said they’d be back when they had the caps…”

Handy looks over at Swift as he shrugs. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about looking for rare parts for something they broke… Got a long enough shopping list already.”

Swift smirks as she momentarily glances at him before looking back at Charity. “Would you be willing to work with me to sort out payment for the supplies they got?”

Charity leans towards her and gives her a wide smile. “I don’t suppose you’re their rich relatives that are just here to drop off the two-thousand caps and be on your way? Huh?” Her eyes dart back and forth before she lets out a little huff and the oversized grin falls off her muzzle. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Not with you starting off by asking if you just could fix whatever they broke.” She shrugs and waves it away with a hoof. “Yeah, we can sort something out.”

Footnote:!!!Lockdown Commencing!

!!!Freezing ‘Credential Matrix’

!!!’BlueMac.Cred’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’⮐⭦⮤⭦⭻🢣⮐⭠.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

66 Testy Situations

While Swift and Handy are busy trying to schmooze their way out of an absurdly high debt, on behalf of the singing quartet, Gearing does an excellent job of making himself scarce. He needed time to think. And much more time than what a simple trip down S.A.T.S. lane would provide. But he knows the perfect distraction. Something that’ll simultaneously be universally productive, while giving him the time to think and sort things out that he needs. Something to keep him from having a nervous breakdown over the realization that he’s spent the last week plotting the murder of some kid. Loan shark or no, she’s just a kid.

The little blue pegasus in his head hops around waving banners as it squeals with delight, ‘I finally get to go to the museum!’

He didn’t think he’d have time before, but now he has a perfect excuse. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him as much as he thinks.

But then the little blue pegaus in his head glares at him like he’s stupid and reminds him, ‘The reason we’re winging it out of town is you’re trying to forget the fact that we’ve been plotting to kill a little filly, before we realized it was a filly and not some mob boss adult. So, yes, the universe still hates us.’

I can’t kill her. I can’t. I just can’t. I got to find out some other solution… maybe stealing or destroying her resources will put an end to it. There’s no way someone like that is particularly powerful on her own, she’s got to have some linchpin we can use to bring the whole house of cards down. Without killing her, Gearing mentally replies to the little blue pegasus living rent free in his head.

It doesn’t take Gearing long to find the museum, as he took flight and gave his hooves a rest as soon as he was out of sight of the little settlement. And, in doing so, getting further away from that filly, and that mocking picture of Luna, as quickly as he could in the process. Both good things. Even more so once it’s factored in that if Luna’s there, Celestia isn’t likely far away.

He zips over to the street where he’s sure the museum was, and is delighted as his Pipbuck chimes with a new marker: Hoofington Museum of Natural History.

The building, through luck or design, has fared pretty well. As he’s circling the building while still in flight he notices there’s some blast marks covering the closed shutters, and wonders if someone had already tried to get in and failed.

The thought just makes him grin as he realizes that their failure means he’s probably going to get to experience the museum unspoiled by looters.

The thought disappears and his grin falls off his face as he gets around back to the loading dock, and sees the door wide open.

Just my luck.

He glances around at the various ancient corpses outside and lets out a sigh. So many skeletons. Apparently, judging by the collection of busted hairpins, a unicorn of the past had tried to get in and failed. Though, someone had managed to get in and out. Recently at that. Gearing looks around at the open doorway and notices a few spatters of blood. Drips really. And a relatively freshly broken hairpin turned lockpick. He picks up the discarded bit of metal and examines it closely. Yup, he mentally decides. Despite Hoofington’s bitchy weather, the interior side of the improvised pick is untouched by the passing of time. Which gives Gearing a bit of hope that maybe there’s more in here than he’d originally thought. Given this bit of breaking and entering had to of been extremely recent. Within days. Weeks at the most.

He drops the bit of metal and kicks on his EFS for a moment, getting a view inside to see if the individuals are still inside. A few red bars zip around in his vision, but rather erratically. He gets a cold chill between his shoulder blades, and quickly rotates his ears in response. And it doesn’t take long for him to pick up the tell tale sounds of skittering across paper.

He gives his body a shake as he suddenly regrets giving his stun rod to Sable to carry, along with the other supplies he sent them back home with. He doesn’t want to waste ammo on such creatures, but he will if he has to. Especially if they are like the ones that swarmed him in 68.

He makes a quick note of the few scattered tin cans and rusted metal on the poured concrete loading dock. The decrepit wagon at the door with its decaying contents gets another mental note as he figures that he could pick up something from here on the way back if nothing else. At least maybe some fragments of scrap that could be used for Sable’s repair matrix to do its thing. Given the state of the world as a whole, there’s also the strong possibility that there’s something in those boxes of real value. Something that ponies who are too busy just trying to survive wouldn’t see as worthwhile.

Those with the understandable mentality of: Can’t be eaten? Can’t be drunk? Can’t be used as a weapon? Cast it off.

And Gearing can’t really blame them. But. There might be something important in those boxes. History. Their history. There’s so little left of the world that every piece of ponidom they can cling onto is important. So, he makes a note to come back and sift through those decrepit boxes for anything he might be able to save from the wastes. Something for the future generations to hold onto their heritage with. And, hopefully, understand enough not to make the same mistakes.

He starts looking around, and quickly picks up the pace of his traveling gaze, as the creepy feeling he’s having just won’t go away. Like he’s being watched. But, then again, not quite. Like tiny little bits of sand tinking against his plates. Or a swarm of ants crawling over him. Nothing to really be worried about, for him at least, but annoying. Irritating. Very much so. And his left shoulder starts getting worse the longer and more he thinks about it. He sits down and gives a sigh as he mutters, “Damn, probably just casting off another piece…” He uses his hind leg and starts scratching at the side of his left shoulder like a dog. Hitting and pinging against it repeatedly as he scrapes at it.

He leans into the action more and more and eventually, as he’d expected, the part finally pops out enough that his hoof gets the purchase it needs to bat it away. He lets out a sigh and looks at the part as it falls to the ground. He stares at it in further irritation for a moment and grumbles about the ridiculousness of it all. And, to make matters worse, he pulls back his cloak as he is well on his way to being irate as he checks himself. The part had indeed come off. This, he’s not surprised by. There are always parts pushing the older ones out and off a clockwork’s body. But these new parts don’t have the same chemical coating everywhere that the others had had. And they shine out and betray his brassy center. Even despite most of the chemical bath coating getting worn or burnt off by now, there’s a noticeable color difference in brightness between the newly uncovered piece, and those around it.

But then, there’s the other thing that he notices. This new piece doesn’t seem quite right. It’s almost the same size of the part it replaced, but not quite. Not enough to cause any issues. But noticeably smaller. To him anyway. And he’s not sure if it’s just his imagination, or does that have much more of his internal lubricant coating it than would be normal for a typical casting? Premature molting is a thing. Maybe that’s what this is. Stress induced? Well, he can’t think of what would be more stressful than waking up in this hellscape and realizing what kinda failure he is. So, it makes sense. He quickly grabs the part, and stows it away for later.

‘Always police yer brass,’ the little blue in his head says while staring at him with one eye and chewing on a cigar like some overbearing sergeant.

Once through the door and into the back area of the museum, Gearing quickly notices a lot more evidence of recent activity. And it sets him on edge.

And the constant nipping at his entire body isn’t helping at all. A breeze of annoyance that he’d really rather not deal with right now.

Inside there are even more boxes everywhere. Gearing pans his gaze around as he smiles that there’s this much intact. There’s no telling what wondrous things are held in this back storage area. No telling what-

‘Kind of fucking battle took place here,’ the little blue pegasus says as it drops the cigar from its muzzle.

Along the inside of the storeroom there are telling pock marks in the building walls and the various boxes. Judging by the bursts and lines: automatic fire. But this damage was old. He continues walking around, slowly, keeping as quiet as he can and comes across yet another skeleton. This one had been disturbed, and is currently in no position that a pony could have possibly collapsed into after death. He frowns as he wonders what reason anyone could have had for practically shoving the skeleton to the side, almost like getting poured out of their own body.

As Gearing continues through the area, his eyes dart around to the various old dusty ammo casings. All smaller caliber. Sub-machine gun style. He wonders how many battles this place has seen. And it’s an oddity considering the doors have only recently been unlocked and opened, judging by what he’s seen thus far. Here and there, more drops of blood can be seen across the floor. One trail seems like it was from somepony with a lame limb walking through it. Part walking, part dragging as it made its way out of the museum. Maybe the victor of whatever this most recent battle had been about?

Of the older battle he can make out several bullet impacts and broken bones to match the ancient dried discolored spots on the walls. One individual seems to have caught several rounds of the burst fire in the head, judging by the parts missing and other holes. Gearing frowns as he continues on and thinks about it, This wasn’t a fight. This was out right murder. And why aren’t there any signs of other weapons and return fire? It’s all the same caliber. There’s no way it was a single individual that perpetrated all of this...

As he’s stalking through the back areas of the museum he can’t help but notice a headline of an ancient newspaper: ‘M.o.M. Victorious! Four-Year Murder Spree Comes to an End!’

He stares at the headline as he freezes solid mid step. He doesn’t need to read any further to know exactly what that paper is talking about. He remembers vividly exactly where he was when he’d read the headline for the first time. When it was hot off the presses and new. His mind jumps to the headlines, both public and back channel, that preceded, and followed, this one. Of one foal after another being killed. How Buck had been taking it as a personal nightmare that even with their office’s help they just couldn’t stop it. Gearing wanted that psycho bad when he’d found out about it. But, like many other things, it just wasn’t in the cards for him. The dice never rolled the way he’d need them to. If they knew who it was from the start, he’d gladly have removed the problem. But the threat area was too wide for him to do it effectively. It wasn’t like a single family, or even small town, was under threat. Practically every foal in Hoofington was in danger. And Gearing couldn’t be everywhere at once. No pony can.

So they had him where he would be most effective for the overall effort. He knew it. Even back then. But he still didn’t like the fact that he felt like foals were dying all around him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. The ‘Angel’s’ murder rampage was a more effective terror tool than most Zebra’s actual attempts at destabilizing the morale of the country. Some had even tried to compare it to Littlehorn in respect to its effect on the population.

The Ministry of Image squashed that pretty quickly though.

Gearing shakes his head and gives a snort as he mutters with a scowl, “Hope she’s been burning in hell…” He continues on and his eyes trail over to the ground ahead where he sees a familiar shape. He can’t help but smile as he sees the large brown bug with a noticeable hoofprint in its body. Gooey bits spurting out around it in every direction as somepony, quite obviously, didn’t much care for radroaches either. He mentally thanks his ally in roach extermination and continues onwards.

The employee break room was next along the way. But, it didn’t take long for Gearing to realize the room had already been ransacked. The medical box on the wall was still partially opened where someone had picked its lock and absconded with the interior supplies. Figuring that anything of value in there that he’d want others would as well, and thus they’d be gone already, he decides to bypass wasting any more time and continues on to the actual museum patron areas.

Immediately upon coming out of the back, Gearing finds evidence of the most recent fight. If not the fight’s actual ground zero. A number of bodies lay around in drying pools of blood. Relatively fresh. The foyer had been turned into a battleground and he zips around and checks the bodies to see if there are any survivors. Judging from the trails of blood, some made it out. Two, maybe three. Hard to say given his only clues are the blood trails and disturbed dust. Of the bodies laying around, the fresh ones anyway, all of their equipment’s been removed. Taken by the victors no doubt. One had their throat slit. Another seems to have been stabbed repeatedly in the chest. Fresh bullet casings of a variety of sizes give evidence to rifles and shotguns being used on top of the ancient SMG small caliber bullet casings from before.

“What could have been here that was worth all this?” Gearing asks the universe as he takes in the carnage. He activates S.A.T.S. and starts trying to target any of the motionless ponies. But, the system doesn’t recognize them as a targetable object, and refuses. Which draws a frown from him as he decides to manually check them all again and cancels S.A.T.S. almost as quickly as he started it. Just to make sure.

As he’s scrambling around, he steps on something small and meaty that makes a wet pop when he steps on it. He lifts his hoof back up, and examines the bloody mess on both his hoof and the floor, and a moment later his eyes jump to their widest in horror. “Is- is that- a testicle?!” He starts shaking his hoof as he tries to flick off some of the gore and asks in dismay, “What kinda fucking party was this?!” He shakes his hoof a few more times as he continues walking and moans, “I’m gonna have to find something to scrape this off of me with… this is fucked up.”

Out of all of the ponies he checks, there are no survivors. Some of which checking for a pulse was merely a formality as they were missing way more of their head or vital bits than could possibly be survivable. He’s not sure when somepony else might show up. And as he looks around the museum, trying to imagine what it used to look like back in its heyday, before it became a multi battle zone in the middle of a war zone, his eyes trail over the various displays he can see. And eventually his eyes settle on the massively disheveled display right in the center of it all.

A grin crosses his muzzle as he gets an idea about the collapsed skeletal display, and what he could do with it.

Because, even long dead, and currently in a heap, the skeleton of a dragon is still formidable.

The little blue pegasus in his head starts hopping around on the tips of his hooves as he squeals, ‘Souvenirs! Souvenirs! Souvenirs, yay!’

The fighting had gotten so fierce here that at least one pony had picked up the bones of the dragon, that had once been on display in the center of the rotunda like some sort of macabre puppet, and started using them to fight with. Whatever crap caliber ammunition they were using, did little to nothing to the bones. Even in death, this fearsome beast simply shrugged off the bullets with an ethereal laugh. Some bullets had impacted and simply shattered, creating little rings of powder and lead. The only thing the bone was willing to give the intruders for their effort. Lead polka dots.

Gearing rummages around the dragon corpse and starts collecting every claw he can find. He was hoping for a full set, but there’s at least one missing. He pulls the bit of wire armature off to collect them, and stows them inside of a metal box for safe storage. He takes extra care in securing them properly because he doesn’t want somepony to get stabbed or cut with them.

The thought makes him stand up straight as he looks over the pony bodies around him. A slit throat… repeated stabs in the chest with puncture wounds that… He holds up one of the larger claws and nods as he eyeballs the wound diameter. Yup. Someone had used at least one claw to kill them. Though, since none of the ones he’s salvaged have enough blood on them, he’s sure the individual ran off with it. Maybe one of the survivors had kept it as a trophy, or further use.

But they didn’t touch one glaring source.

Gearing, after securing even the last pinkie toe claw he can find, begins working on the skull. He only pays the pony under the skull a fleeting glance before he gets to work. They obviously had been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. And aren’t doing much more than gluing the dragon skull to the floor. Saying they were beyond help would be an understatement.

One by one Gearing works the fangs of the dragon out of the skull. There’s enough of the set here he wonders if he could make a complete set of equipment for himself. Or a couple ponies really. Two per hoof would be more than enough to rend most flesh open with a single swipe. He glances at his wings and starts thinking of a few designs he could use for making the dragon parts effective there as well. Not exactly wing blades. But close. And it’d give him more reach and maneuverability.

As he’s stowing the last of the teeth in with the rest of the claws he ties the box and attaches it to his saddle bags on his back. He can think of many uses for these. And, obviously, there’s at least one pony in Hoofington that has the wits to see their potential. He thinks about leaving a couple, maybe for that unknown pony, but thinks better of it. Given the evidence of the local idiots, they’d likely just use them for target practice. And, since they already left, they obviously took whatever they wanted with them when they went.

He glances at the empty battle saddles in the area that surrounds the rotunda and shakes his head. Obviously looted. No point in even checking. But he realizes there might be something in one of these exhibits. That he’d want. Or, at least, use. The stairs up makes an inviting call to him, but that won’t do until he’s had a view of this lower level. Another squashed radroach on the floor earns his gratitude and a smirk on his muzzle as he’s on his way through a side door.

He stares at the sign pointing towards ‘Rocks of Equestria’ and can’t help a giddy smile forming on his muzzle. Gearing takes a step in that direction, but then stops short. He looks at the sign for a moment longer as he debates on it, but then frowns and turns the other way as he bypasses it and mutters, “Business before pleasure, Gearing… Business before pleasure… There’ll be plenty of time to see the geology exhibit later…”

The little blue pegasus in his head rolls round on the ground of his mindspace and screams, ‘But there’ll be a whole mineral display we can take in there! We can set it up in 68’s schoolroom! Awww come on! I want it, I want it, I want it!’

Gearing walks into an exhibit surrounded by cases and dioramas, and instantly his frown grows in strength. Smashed cases lay everywhere. Most of which look like they were shot out. Though he realizes that was probably because they were targeting the patrons or whoever was in here when the fighting took place, and not the displays themselves.

Gearing walks over and looks down at some of the old pottery and woven baskets of truly ancient times and feels a pang of sadness for the loss. Regardless of how they aged or the condition they were found in from time immemorial, the last two hundred years had not been kind. They’re barely holding together. In fact, he can see an ancient Zebra spear that somepony had tried to pick up and use recently, and all it’d done is practically disintegrate into pieces from simply being touched.

He strolls over and examines a diorama with a miraculously still functioning magical volcano that puffs up smoke every now and then. At its base is a small zebra community. He knows, from his own reading, that this isn’t particularly to scale, as one of the theories he’d read about as a foal said the exploding volcano wiped everything out in Hoofington long ago. So it’d be even bigger if they wanted it to be to scale. But, for educational purposes, it gets the point across. And a pass for inaccuracy. He can’t help but wonder about the irony of it. First the Zebra were here, then they got wiped out by massive blasts of unknown origin. Then Ponies came, and were practically wiped out by blasts of hoof origin. How long would it be before what had happened back in October would be forgotten? Lost to time, like the ones that had originally made the shattered pots that litter the floor of this exhibit room at his hooves. What kind of irony would it have been if the original blast that took out the zebras of Hoofington had been hoof wrought as well? And equinity simply hadn’t learned from our mistakes then, and we’re doomed to repeat them?

‘Wouldn’t that mean that we’ve struck out at least twice, and are likely to do it again?’ the little blue pegasus in his head chimes in with a raised hoof.

Gearing doesn’t want to deal with this at the moment. It’s depressing enough. He came here to try and relax, not get worked up more. He quickly leaves the ancient zebra civilization area to its own misery as he steps into the next room. And once inside he comes face to face with a pony he really doesn’t like.

More accurately, he notices the ‘lazy son of a mule noble’ lying on the ground as his statue had either fallen or gotten knocked over.

‘Blueblood,’ the little pony in his head sneers.

Prince Blueblood the who-the-fuck-cares, Gearing mentally confirms. The whole family was despicable as far as Gearing is concerned. Rotten to the core with false self importance and, if his knowledge of history serves him, has a rather strong hoof placement in the start of the war to begin with. Damn nobles and their egos.

The little pegasus in his head raises a hoof and bucks a gong a few times to get his attention before saying, ‘Don’t forget that buck with the name that fits the family… He seems… passable.’

Vanity. Gearing nods as he’s reminded of him. The only noble to not simply volunteer for military service, but an actual combat role at that. One of Big Macs’ Marauders. According to all records, both public and not, he’d fought with distinction and honor. A true fit that had earned his place among the Marauders. Somepony to be respected. Not for lineage, but for deeds.

‘Maybe he was adopted’, the little blue pegasus suggests from his place sitting on his steam chest.

The universe would make much more sense then. If that were the case.

But Blueblood, and the rest of the family, had been a source of irritation for Gearing. Privileged rich mules that only care about themselves and nopony else by his account.

‘Supposedly related to the Princesses, so maybe that had something to do with it as well,’ the little blue pegasus in his head chimes in.

Gearing nods and starts walking by, and over, the statue as he looks around. In a momentary lapse into foalhood, Gearing steps on and smears a combination of blood, gore, mud, stagnant water, and general filth from his hooves, all over Blueblood’s face and leather barding. Gearing scrapes off his hooves onto the statue as he snickers, “Hey, look, you’re being useful for once…”

As he’s enjoying himself by mucking up the statue of an anciently dead aristocrat, something else catches his eye. A case that hadn’t been broken into yet. He trots over, staring at it’s interior, as a smile gets even wider across his muzzle. An old sword, of zebra craft if his knowledge of history is correct, sits like a beacon to good taste. But it still looks as hard and foreboding as if it’d been forged yesterday. He’s not sure what kind of enchantments are on the case to have allowed this piece to be so perfectly preserved when everything else had failed, but he thanks the masters of the museum for sparing the expense.

He runs his hooves over the glass and can’t help but snicker as he sees the tell tale signs of where someone else had tried to get in here. With outright force. Dirty hoof marks on the glass in smears where they’d tried to get in repeatedly, but failed. There’s even fragments around the case where somepony had broken something over the case trying to bash it open. This case had taken a beating and just sneered at them in return. Impressively so. His eyes trail over the case until he sees a lock along the edge. He stoops down and looks at it as he ponders its difficulty.

Just like the enchantments on the case itself, this lock isn’t some mass produced hardware store find. They paid top dollar for this and he’s going to have to take his time to get it open. He raises his head and looks around for a terminal for a few moments as he wonders if there’s some way to bypass the security and have the terminal unlock it. But, no. No such luck.

He leans in and gives the glass a kiss as he pats the case. “Oh. You just sit right there you gorgeous thing you. I’ll be right back. And then you’ll be all mine.” He lets his eyes trail over the brilliant nearly white silver blade, with the ornate etchings as he debates breaking his own rule. But, no. He really does need to scout out the rest of the museum before spending however much time this is going to take.

The little blue pegasus in his head whimpers and cries as he begs Gearing to break his own rule on such things.

But, as dutiful as ever, Gearing mutters, for himself to hear and help reinforce his own will, “Business before pleasure, Gearing… Business before pleasure…” His eyes trail over a series of pictures along the wall depicting the leading theory for the destruction of the ancient Hoofington zebra peoples, and he decides to move on. The sooner he goes and secures the museum against any surprises, the sooner he can get back. Though the last picture on the wall makes him sigh as he sees a parallel between the world he woke up in, and the ashed hellscape that they believed covered the Hoofington valley during the theorized volcanic cataclysm. “Those who don’t learn from the past, are doomed to repeat it...”

He keeps his eyes off to the side, looking at the pictures and related information, as he walks forward through the door to the next room.

Something in the gloom in front of him catches his attention via his peripheral vision and he whips his head frontward to come face to face with his next challenger.

The blue pegasus in his head jumps up in the air so quickly that feathers get scattered in a variety of directions as it silently screams. It zips around, jumps into its steam chest, and then spins the box fast enough to dig a hole into the ground until it’s buried under a mound of dirt.

Gearing’s head jerking had thrown the cowl off of his head as he turned to look at who this dark figure was that was trying to silently sneak up on him. And had practically succeeded. As the lights, sensing the motion of his entrance, rise up, the fright he’d felt before gets dwarfed. His fight or flight response, while on a hair trigger, practically vaporizes as he knows there is no fighting the monstrosity in front of him.

Nightmare Moon. Luna. Staring down at him with her horn aimed at him as she prepares to blast him with whatever evil she can contrive to make him suffer. A sneering look of contempt plain to see across her muzzle as she moves to strike him down.

Gearing’s eyes open to their widest as his legs shake. He stumbles backwards as he stares at her in complete unhindered terror. His mind races a mile a minute and, by pure accident, he activates S.A.T.S. He tries to queue weapon blasts at her. He has his rifle. Even at this range it shouldn’t be a problem. But it won’t target her. Nothing will. It’s like it refuses to even register her presence. He curses the universe. He curses who ever made it so the matrix wouldn’t target the princesses, despite the user’s dire need. He swears that once he dies, he’s going to track the bastard down and shove his phantom hoof right up their phantom sphincter. She’d followed him. He’s sure of it. Maybe from that church? She really was staring at me! She knew! She’s just been waiting on a chance to finish what she started. Like getting Equestria turned into a poisonous waste wasn’t bad enough. Now she’s here to kill me, or worse, too...

He’d felt eyes earlier. And has been getting that itchy, creepy, horrible feeling since leaving Chapel. It bothered him so much that he’d prematurely cast off a plate. Now he’s staring down one of the most destructive forces on Equus. It’s almost enough to give a clockwork a heart attack. And he doesn’t even have one where that’s possible.

S.A.T.S. ends as it runs out of charge and normal time resumes.

Gearing drops down and back, cowering away and putting up his forelegs to shield his head from the incoming blow as he covers himself with his wings. He slams into the ground causing a screeching noise as he slides back and away from her out of pure instinct. He stays tense, holding the same pose, as he awaits the coming strike. And possible death.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

He slowly moves his wings and his hooves to see what’s taking so long, and finds her in that exact same pose. His eyes dart around her quickly. Looking for any sort of even micro movement of motion. But. Nothing. Not a blink. Not the slight slide of muscle under pelt as she shifts weight. Nothing. Not even the movement of her torso from breathing. He stares longer. Noting that even her nostrils aren’t moving.

At all.

He slowly starts climbing up and getting closer to her, ever so slowly, as he notices she’s somehow maintaining an awkward pose without any movement whatsoever. He waves a wing in front of her face, and then hops back and away from her expecting her to lash out.

But, no, she remains glaring out in pure contempt from under her helmet. Yet still makes no movement.

Gearing starts swaying side to side as he looks her over and says with a whisper, “It’s a statue… it’s just a statue…” he starts backing up away from it, slowly, as he doesn’t take his eyes off of it. “It’s just a statue, Gearing… just a statue.” The whole time he focuses the entirety of his will to try and make the statement true and takes extra care to not take his eyes off of her. Because, if he does, she might come after him.

Don’t blink. Don’t blink. Don’t blink...

He continues backing up, while staring at the door to the room where the statue sits, all the way through the next exhibit. Near the far side he stumbles over a bit of debris as he’s so focused on that door that he doesn’t have enough concentration to watch his footing. After practically falling over the toppled statue of Prince Blueblood, Gearing spins around and takes off down the hall, flying as quickly as he can as he makes a straight line for the exit.

Gearing abandons all thought of looking any further into the museum. There’s business. There’s pleasure. But then there’s the third priority that mustn’t be overlooked.

Survival.

And, at the moment, this falls squarely in the middle of that last category as every fiber of his being urges him to vacate before he’s dragged into yet another battle inside of this museum. One that he can’t possibly win.

Gearing is most of the way back to Chapel before his mind settles down enough to allow him to land and take stock of what had just happened. He finds some rubble and burrows into it through an opening and hides among the pile for a few moments as he does his best to stop shaking. Now that he’s gotten away from the museum, and the creature held within, his logical mind is released from its tomb and allowed to start cleaning up the mess his pure unabashed panic has left in his brain.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

Of course that had to be a statue. Luna had died in Canterlot when the bombs fell. Celestia too. Most likely. His panic brings up the immense difficulty of killing somepony like that. His logical mind rebuts with a point on why would Luna be hanging out in a museum anyway. She didn’t move. At all. She’s still organic. She’s still got to breath. It was not Luna. It was not Nightmare Moon. And none of them are coming to get him. The rest of his psyche screams out ‘bullshit!’ and the logical part of his mind concedes, partially, with, At the moment…

As his tremors slowly start to pass he suddenly becomes very grateful that he never went to the museum before. Had he had this response back then, it would have been a disaster. A buck being scared of a statue of Nightmare Moon would have made him a laughing stock at best. Ranting about Luna coming to get him would have been far worse. He huddles down and holds his head as he forces himself to breath. Not that he needs the air, but the repetitive movements help him relax with their regular motions. Given the method he’d gone through the museum, and the trip getting cut short due to unexpected terror, he has not been gone from Chapel terribly long. Even more so given how he had abandoned almost everything that might have been of either use or desire in the museum.

Especially the sword.

The little blue pegaus in his head bursts out of the ground, and its steam chest, as it makes itself known long enough to scream, ‘Fuck that!’

Gearing agrees. He’s sure he’ll never come across something so magnificent again. Let alone having a chance to have it as his own. But. It’s not worth him having a mental meltdown because of the creature sitting in the next room. Statue or not. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near them.

He gets up out of the hole he’s in and shakes himself off as he starts heading back towards the Chapel post office. Along the way he covers back up with the cloak, including cowl. No point in getting away from that monstrosity only for his shiny ass to get picked off from a distance. If nothing else, this mollifies his insecurities about what he should be doing and where he should be going from here. It’s even more of a reason to hurry up and get to where he was truly planning on going anyway. Now he just needs to pass off a few things, and a message, and continue on to his goal. There’s going to be some fallout from this. Lots of things that he’s going to have to apologize for later. But there’s no helping it. He needs to get things back on track to getting better as soon as possible. And all of the side tracking is making him put it off far too long. Regardless of the best intentions that are causing it.

As he’s stepping inside the post office, he notices the group of children he’d originally seen outside playing again. This time they don’t run off, and just watch him with curiosity as he heads back inside. The little gray colt among them actually shoots a wide grin in his direction as he continues playing with the newly fixed wagon between his forehooves.

Inside the post office, Gearing finds Swift and Handy sitting at either end of the customer service desk turned shop counter as they talk with Charity. Swift nods a few times, more than necessary in Gearing’s opinion, as she says, “We’ll take care of it. No problem.” She turns to look at Gearing and tilts her head as she says, “That box is new. Been digging around again?”

Gearing walks up to her while he keeps his head pointed in Charity’s direction as she starts haggling with Handy. The poor buck seems to be on the losing streak of a game of chance given the sour look on his face. Which is saying something when it comes to Handy.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumps, ‘Why’d she have to be a little filly?! That’d make things so much easier...’

And, just like that, he’s right back in the funk he was in when he left Chapel. But, given what had happened at the museum, he’s far worse now than he was.

Gearing sits near Swift as he keeps his head low and practically hides behind the cowl of his cloak as he tries to ignore the little yellow shopkeeper. “A bit. You like getting up close and personal right? Well I found some things that’ll let me make something for you to replace that old powerhoof with.”

Swift quickly pulls her powerhoof laden leg in towards herself as she says quickly, “Nope. I’m not replacing it.”

Gearing tilts his head so he can look at her with one eye. “Why not? Smashing something’s all fine and good. But with a bit of extra oomph you could really be ripping them apart.”

Swift smiles at him lightly and then nuzzles the powerhoof with her cheek as she actually holds it there with her other forehoof as well. “Thank you, Gearing. But I can’t. Really. This one’s special…”

He glances down at it and tilts his head as he asks, “Why? Can’t get it off?”

Swift snickers and shakes her head before leaning towards Gearing. “Handy made it for me from a busted one he found. It’s been kind of like my good luck charm since we got together.” She looks over at Handy and takes on a warm glowing smile that he’s only really seen recently on Sable when she’s looking at him and doesn’t think he can see her. “He can drive me a bit crazy at times, but I love him all the more, all the same.” She lifts the powerhoof and nuzzles it again while she looks at Handy as he seems to pass over the last of his caps to Charity. “I draw a lot of strength from my family. And this was the first thing he’d ever given me. It’s like it represents the start of our relationship. I wouldn’t trade it for the world!”

Gearing nods as he looks away from her and sighs. “Yeah, I get it. Sentimental value trumps everything else.” He waves a hoof around as he says quietly, “If you change your mind, or want an extra spare just in case, let me know.”

Swift waves it off and smiles. “I’m sure it won’t be needed. The one who built it did a great job. It’s gotten us through a lot! But, thank you. If I change my mind I’ll let you know.”

Gearing nods then lifts his head up so she can see at least one of his eyes as he asks softly, “So, you get the children’s debt sorted out?”

Swift nods and frowns lightly. “Yeah. Just a few things we gotta do and we’ll be in the clear.”

‘Heard that before’, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says with a huff as it glares daggers at the little yellow filly sucking every cap she can get out of Handy.

Gearing lifts a wing to pull the cloak away from himself and quickly starts putting a few items in a bag that he’d brought with him. He figures he’s going to need as much carry capacity as he can get, and there’s no point in him taking most of this with him when no one else is going to be able to come along. He pulls out a bit of paper and starts writing on it as he tries to figure out which of what he needs to do, needs to be done first. Word of mouth or even an audio recording just doesn’t feel right in this case, so he hopes written form is at least satisfactory enough to explain what’s going on.

Charity’s eyes jump over to Gearing’s body as he lifts up his cloak to get access to some of the bags underneath. That golden glint was all her perceptive eyes needed. And her eyes don’t simply trail over his now exposed body, but jump around across the surface of his metallic pelt as she minutely evaluates his form. From plate to plate to ‘armor component’ or sparkling gear. But only across his markless haunch as the rest of him is still hidden pretty well under the ratty cloak. And the more bright metal she sees on him, the bigger her smile gets.

“Hey, metal butt!” Charity calls out from the shop counter to get his attention.

Which undoubtedly works. But not likely in the way, nor the reason, she’d really been intending.

Gearing slowly turns his head to look at her and scowls in her general direction from under the cowl as he asks flatly, “What?”

She leans to the side and waves at him. “We don’t have any of that tech stuff you’re always after. But you Steel Ranger types like going through lots of bullets and grenades, right?” She rubs her hooves together and grins at him widely. “That I can help you out with!” She leans across the counter and pushes out her lower lip ever so much as it trembles with expert timing. “They aren’t easy to get for us little fillies; it’s dangerous out there in the wastes. So pleaaase pay us enough to eat. That’s all we ask. We’re not asking for much…” She opens her eyes to their widest, to the point where they’re partially sparkling, as she says, “Four caps each for 5mm, and fifty per grenade.”

Handy and Swift both zip their focus to look at Gearing like he’d said or done something wrong. To make the poor little filly beg for food like this. Sure, it might be a bit pricey, but it’s a perfectly reasonable request. And food’s expensive. Especially when you have this many mouths to feed. Their scowl just gets even worse by the second as they start wondering how heartless he could really be.

Gearing stares at Charity and makes no attempt to hide his contempt. From his reckoning, she’s royally screwed over Swift already. Somehow getting her to agree to who knows what in order to pay off a debt that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Being the same individual that put such a high priced burden on those children makes matters way worse. He’s sure dealing with someone like this really wouldn’t be the best idea, in all likelihood. He’s not sure if simply haggling with her lets her mess with your mind with some cheaty magic that she’s hiding somewhere or what. But Swift and Handy have obviously fallen for it. He’s determined that he’s not going to. If nothing else, he’s too frustrated at the moment to give her enough consideration to fall for anything. Given what he knows of her, he’d sooner trust a Zebra commando than this little yellow filly. And the entire thought train just makes him more bitter the more he looks at her.

He tries not to be unnecessarily rude, but there’s no helping it.

“I don’t have any blood for you to drain,” he quips.

‘So much for being civil,’ the little blue pegasus in his head says with a sigh.

“I’ve heard what kind of businessmare you are and there’s nothing to discuss. I’m still trying to wrap my head around using bottle caps for currency. So. No. I don’t have anything of value for you to take. And, even if I did, I highly doubt you’d let anything I’d actually need go for such a meager amount. But, I really doubt you’d actually have anything I’d want anyway. Let alone actually need. So it’s a moot point.” He gets up and starts to turn to leave, while Swift sits there with an absolutely appalled look across her face.

Charity eyes him for a few moments before stopping him with a question. “Heeey! Don’t count us out, we get around. What is it you really want? We might have it!”

Gearing whips back around in a swift about-face and sits down as he stares at Charity through his improvised cloak’s cowl. “Got a time machine?”

Charity smirks and gives an amused snort before replying, “If I did, I’d be rich.”

Gearing shrugs then shoves a hoof out at her. And he can’t help noticing her eyes jumping down to his golden hoof, which just makes him even more annoyed. “See. You’re thinking about money. Money. Money. Money. Money. Money! All I’d want is to go home… See, I got knocked out, and thrown in stasis. Next time I opened my eyes, the whole world’s gone to shit.” He motions back behind him to the wastes out the door. “Only thing green out there in most of Equestria is radioactive waste…” He points a hoof upwards. “And, apparently, I can’t even go home. I’ll never get to walk on the clouds anymore. It’s things like that I want. Things like that I enjoy. But, someone like you wouldn’t understand…”

He points his hoof out of the cloak at her as he nods slowly. “Oooooh yeah. I know you’re type! I had to live day in and day out knowing scumbags like you were not only around, but actually screwing everything up for their own profit.” He waves the hoof around as he rattles off, “Nobles, traitors, moles, businessbucks and fillies. Tons of them would turn on and screw over their own family for just a few more bits in their pockets.”

“It was nobles that pushed for the bullshit war. Their arrogance. Their greed! And look what it got us all? Total balefire megaspell annihilation! Was it worth it? Huh?! Millions dead, and the world in ruin, and for what? A stupid tiny piece of metal?! With idiots and heartless cretins trying to amass as many as they can for no other purpose than just to have them. Trying to get every last one the world had to offer.”

He stomps with all four hooves simultaneously as he screams, “All for not!”

He throws a forehoof out at Charity as he yells, “Get your damn priorities straight! There’s more to life than just money! And, here, let me give you a bit of a leg up on that realization with some hard won two hundred year old knowledge: You. Will never. Own. Every. Single. Bit. Nor. Cap!” He stomps a hoof with each word before he uses his wing to pull out a single solitary cap from one of his pockets and holds it aloft for her to see. “See this? This tiny bit of metal? Yeah, you want it. I can see it in your eyes. You want it. Just like you want all of them. You’re all the same! You want me to prove you’ll never get them all, no matter what you do, nor how many you screw over and get killed?! Here!”

He uses his wing and puts half of the cap in his mouth, and chomps down. He twists his head and jaw, alternating with his wing as the metal of the cap actually bends and rips. He throws both pieces in his mouth and quickly starts grinding and chomping on it as he throws the cloak’s cowl back and lets her watch him completely annihilate the Sparkle Cola cap. He sticks his tongue out at her, showing the small fragments, before quickly pulling it back in and doing an exaggerated show of swallowing before opening his mouth again and showing that, yes, he really did just eat it.

Her eyes shoot wide open instantly, and for more reasons than just the display.

“See! That’s one cap you’re never going to get either!” He thrusts out his hoof at her and screams, “So get that through your greedy, disgusting, little skull. Please!” He turns around and starts stomping towards the door as he continues, “Before your endless greed gets everypony killed… Again!”

He tosses a bag at Swift’s hooves as he scowls. “Give that to Sable. I’m not dealing with this shit anymore. I’m done. I’m out of here. There’s more important things that I should be doing... I’ll see you around.”

He starts stomping out of the door as he grumbles, loudly, “Charity! Hah! You’re the antithesis of charity!” He spins around at the door and points at her from the threshold. “With a name like that, either your parents have a sick sensee of humor, or they’re exceedingly disappointed in you right now. Naming you ‘Charity’, pah!” He closes his eyes as he leans in and screams at her, in quite a foalish fashion, “More like ‘Avarice’!”

He spins around again and heads out into the street. “I’ve got my own mission. And while it won’t put a single bit in my pack… or cap… whatever… it’ll bring me joy. The joy of helping others. Of trying to improve this forsaken waste into something that might at least resemble the old Equestria I remember.” After exiting he mutters, “It’s the only kind of joy I’m allowed to have now… apparently.”

Everyone stares at him wide eyed with their mouths hanging agape. Completely dumbfounded by the thorough and seemingly unprovoked verbal onslaught. The other kids stare at him in surprise and disbelief because no one talks to Charity like that. Bickering and haggling over prices, sure. But nothing like that.

Swift and Handy likewise stare at him in a mixture of shock and confusion. For Gearing doesn’t just go off on somepony. And never a kid. That was outright vicious. And, when it comes to children and the young, it’s just not in his nature. Not to kids. Not even to adults. They’re quite certain if he was that angry at an adult, he’d just shoot them instead of wasting the time berating them. They can’t figure out, at all, what could have triggered him to lose it like that. Going from a simple barter transaction to apparently out right accusing Charity of being personally responsible for the apocalypse? Not even Nahlah could make a jump like that.

A few of the kids out in the street scatter back and away when he comes out, but still look at him with jaws agape as Gearing quickly starts looking around. He walks by the gray colt that is still clutching his wagon close to himself, and comments flatly, “Here, I won’t be needing this where I’m going. You kids enjoy them.”

Gearing drops an already prepared bag at the gray colt’s hooves, and it falls over. He’d had it as spares, and just kept it with him ‘just in case’ when he dropped off so much at Megamart. But, there are no such relevant cases that might pop up now for what’s in the bag. The colt looks down in time to see a couple unopened cans and a box of snack cakes fall out of the bag. And a few other food items further inside. The gray colt looks up with a smile to thank Gearing, but notices he’s already gone further down the road.

Gearing looks at a couple kids huddled under the porch roof of one of the houses and tosses another bag in their general direction. He’s so angry at the moment, that he doesn’t even want to deal with the extra ‘might be useful’ scrap he’s picked up. “Here, use what you can, trade what you can’t.” Then he turns, without even looking if they’re going to pick it up or not, and continues right down the road.

Straight towards the bridge that leads to the Hoofington Core’s high walls.

The gray colt’s eyes go wide as he suddenly realizes where Gearing is headed. He drops the wagon, hops up, and runs at full speed into the church.

Gearing passes the last building and his eyes jump over to the side, where a wary filly is peeking out at him from the side of the house. Gearing unties his cloak, pulls it off, and throws it over to her with a wing. It quickly envelopes her and she gives out a startled, ‘eep’ before climbing back out of the fabric. Gearing continues down the road as he says, “That should help keep ya warm… Just keep it dry and it’ll do you some good.”

It’s at this junction that the fillies and colts of the settlement get their first clear look at Gearing, now that he’s cast off the cloak and is no longer hiding. The metallic green-winged pegasus, with practical gold glittering across various spots, is an instant curiosity. Of those that had seen Steel Rangers before, there’s a bit of confusion as they’ve never seen a Steel Ranger wearing cloaks, nor armor of that particular color. And the moving parts just don’t look quite right to them. Then there are a variety of questions about his wings, which no Steel Ranger has either. There are instant debates on if he can fly or not. With both fillies and colts arguing logic from both sides. All while they keep their distance and he continues on his journey towards the bridge.

The whole route, Gearing continues muttering to himself in ways that none present can even understand.

As Gearing is getting near the bridge, an approaching buck’s voice yells out, “Wait a moment, please!”

Gearing looks over his shoulder and stops walking as he watches a black unicorn with a dingy white mane and tail trot up quickly to him. Gearing’s not sure if his mane is that color naturally, or just perpetually dyed from the grime of the hellscape that surrounds them. Gearing’s eyes zip over to a crate a short distance away, drawn by a bit of movement, where the small gray colt he’d fixed the wagon for sits peeking out at him from behind the weathered wooden box. A growing number of other youth joins him to gawk at the strange metal pony.

Gearing directs his attention to the black unicorn buck and explores his face as he asks, “What’s up?” The question is only half-hearted as he really wants to leave yet, simultaneously, is curious about who this buck is. Especially given he’s the only adult Gearing had seen here thus far. And the variety of small scars marring his pelt lets Gearing know this individual has had quite the long history in the wasteland.

The black buck waves off towards the chapel back in the town. “My name’s Priest. Would you like to come in and talk?”

Gearing looks from him, to the chapel beyond. He feels himself shiver ever so slightly as he imagines Luna staring down and judging him again from her cozy window pane. And then that is not even mentioning the unseen Celestia. He knows there’s no telling where her likeness or general representation will show up.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head frowns so hard his jaw seems to split in half as it points a hoof at Priest’s haunch.

Priest has no equipment on at all and carries nothing more than his modest saddlebags. Not a single weapon or scrap of armor to be found, leaving his mark out for all to see. A fact that draws much ire from the blue pegasus in Gearing’s head. Because his mark looks like some sort of a pegasus with their forehooves spread stretched above and their wings fanned out wide. Centered in a burst of rays, as if the pegasus was casting off the light of the sun themselves. All of which came painfully into view for Gearing as Priest turned enough to point back towards the church.

Though, given the silhouette and the area, maybe it’s not a pegasus at all… but a depiction of a certain alicorn and you just can’t see her horn from this angle… Gearing muses.

His little blue pegasus nods agreement as he seems to have come to the same conclusion.

Not a good sign.

Gearing’s eyes trail away from Priest’s mark and over to look at the Core on the other side of the bridge. On some level he feels an extra pang of loss. Sure, he didn’t like the place. It was a running joke about being the fugliest place on Equus. And that was during the war. Now, with its current condition post-apocalypse, it’s a very large reminder of his own failure. Unlike other places he’d been to before, he has a very vivid mental picture of what the Core used to look like. For him, it’s only been a matter of weeks. So the change is dramatic. He knows, for a fact, that the Core was chock full of ponies working away. And, just as certainly, he knows that each and every one of them died.

While he slept.

The green aura emanating from the inside is rather ominous, but not to be unexpected given the devastation. He’s not sure if anyone else could survive in there, if they ever made it in. He’s not even sure if he will. But it’s a risk he has to take. He has to try and get to the support he needs. To at least see if it’s still there. If not, he could always just fly back out. But, he’s come this far, and it’s this close. Enough wasted time, he mentally scolds himself.

Gearing shakes his head as he says, “Nah. I can’t. I really need to go.”

“Is there no way I can convince you to stay? At least for the night? Come back with me and we can talk about it. Then tomorrow, if you’re still certain, you can just head out. No one’ll stop you. It’ll still be there tomorrow. You got nothing to lose,” Priest seems to plea with a type of calm voice that strikes Gearing as odd. Not to mention the sad look in Priest’s eyes. And, to Priest’s credit, he’d managed to maintain as much eye contact as Gearing would allow, instead of gawking at the golden spider web of lines that mark where the left side of Gearing’s head had been mangled not long ago, and is still partially visible at this distance.

Gearing sorts through his inventory again using his PipBuck, and drops out a few more items onto the ground as he shakes his head. “No. I need to go, and the sooner the better. And the only thing holding me up now, is you.”

Priest regards him for a moment then says in that same awfully calm voice, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to force anything on you.” He looks over towards the bridge and sighs. “The choice is, ultimately, yours. And no one here will take that from you.”

“Well, with that out of the way, thanks for seeing me off. But there’s no time like the present.” He points towards the ground in front of Priest. “I gave some of the kids some scrap and salvage, but I forgot about those. Would you give it to them? Figured they could trade it for food or toys or something.”

Priest nods slightly as he regards Gearing. “If that is what you wish, I’ll make sure it gets done.”

Gearing turns and starts heading towards the bridge entrance as he wonders what this buck named Priest had done to get himself in debt with ‘Avarice’. He can’t think of any other reason anypony would want to stick around that money hungry little monster. And the sooner he puts some distance between them the better.

“Gearing!”

Gearing stops and turns to look back over his shoulder, and sees Swift pounding down the roadway asphalt as quickly as she can. So fast that she’s kicking up pieces of black fragments from the road as she continues yelling along the whole way up to the bridge, “Geeaaariiiiiing!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and turns around completely to look at her. “What now!?”

Swift skids to a halt at the bridge entrance near Priest and waves at the bridge behind Gearing. “Don’t go that way! The turrets on the city walls are active!”

Priest’s eyes go wide and his focus zips over to look at Gearing as he asks in disbelief, but with a hint of hope in his tone, “You didn’t know?!”

Gearing rolls his eyes again. “Of course I knew they’d be active.” After a moment’s pause he clarifies, “Well, had a pretty damn good idea on the matter anyway… Why?”

Priest lets out a sigh as he quickly seems to have been momentarily encouraged before instantly getting disappointed again. “Oh… okay.”

Swift rolls her eyes and points off towards the walls. “Those lasers kill anypony that gets too close! Get back here before they ash you!”

Gearing starts chuckling as he says, “What? Naaaah. I’m fine.” He waves a hoof at her dismissively. “You stay back that way though… Like I said, I’ll see you around!”

Swift sits down and screams at him, “But you’ll die!”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at her then gives her a rather cocky grin. “Have you met me yet?” He steps sideways, throwing his wings up and causing a bit of sparkle around himself. He looks down at the ground under his hooves and starts sidestepping, more and more. Ever closer to the Core’s city wall. He glances at the section of the road where somepony had written ‘Mercy’ and can’t help but wonder what all the fuss is about. Well, he supposes, they have reason to be concerned. They know what the turrets are capable of. Probably about as much as he knows. From a functional standpoint anyway. And he finds their care and concern really endearing. Which just makes the conversation with Priest that much more special. Gearing realizes he’d been trying to keep him away from the bridge. Not just simply talk. Gearing nods as he can’t help but thinking that the black buck’s one of the good sorts.

Gearing throws his wings out wide and higher, even more as he just keeps side trotting down the road across the bridge. “See, what did I tell ya? Nothing to worry about. Because I am Gearing! The Glorious Bastard!” He jumps to the side more and throws his wings out at their perfect angles to grab the meager evening’s light and bend it around himself in colorful displays with a massive grin across his muzzle.

However.

Simultaneously the massively creepy feeling that had been crawling over his body earlier returns, the cold feeling between his shoulders starts screaming, and the little blue pegasus in his head starts running laps in fright.

Gearing starts turning his head to look at the walls, and both he and the little pegasus in his head jump up in perfect mimicry of each other, with every limb frantically flailing in various directions, in shock at what he sees.

Pinkie Pie Announcement!

It was at this moment… that Gearing knew… heeeeee fucked up!

Now back to the story!

Gearing tumbles in midair as the red lasers lance through the air and try to bisect him. More and more lasers join in as he hits the asphalt and tumbles away. He tries to run back the other way, away from the walls, but it doesn’t work, and multiple lasers fan out and come at him from various angles.

He takes flight, zipping and dodging as the focus of the lasers follow him around in sweeps, causing him to stop dead and change direction midair repeatedly. Each time he tries to get away, a laser is cutting off his avenue of escape and set to scorch his hide. The best he manages is lateral movement and off the bridge.

He angles his wings, fanning them and his crystalline feathers out as much as possible as he tries to disperse a few laser strikes that are impossible to dodge. His wings are excellent light focal points. They have fantastic properties to redirect and refract light in general. And lasers are just another form of light. And, what’s more, the lenses for most laser weapons are composed of the same material his stained glass looking wings are.

However, even with how pure of a form the crystalline structure of his wings is, it’s not thick enough nor designed to be able to take the high intensity beams currently being thrown at him. These aren’t mere laser pistols. These are city wall defense turrets and their power output is immense enough that most organics are vaporized with the first raking. And his wings cannot deflect power of that magnitude.

However, what they can do is buy him precious time.

He sacrifices one crystalline segment after another as they refract, reflect, and redirect the light elsewhere. Until they crack, break, and shatter from the sudden change in heat and sheer power being focused at him. He zips around, in the air, using the distance from the ground to give himself more wiggle room to maneuver and get closer to shore, and away from the murderous turrets trying to make him brass pudding.

But with the loss of each crystal segment he has just that much more trouble staying aloft. That much more trouble maneuvering. And that much less options. And he can tell the massive spikes in heat are deforming the metal lattice of his wings as well. And it’s only a matter of time before one, or both, collapse on him and send him spiraling down out of control.

So he’s running out of both time, and options. Quickly.

Given how the turrets seem to be working together to keep him within range and not allow him to leave, he only has one more option he can think of, and not enough time to really come up with anything else. He knows it’s not a guarantee, and might simply be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. But, it has a higher chance of survival if nothing else than what he has currently.

So, he bails.

Gearing changes direction suddenly and zips down, using gravity to assist him, as he quickly plunges towards the river below. The lasers try to zap him, and even cut him off as they rake near the water, but he simply dodges as many as he can, and sacrifices a few more crystal wing segments to make it to his goal for the ones he can’t.

But he does make it, with a scream of pure unfiltered terror and pain the whole way down.

A monumental splash erupts from the river, causing a pillar of water to shoot high into the air and, in some cases, turn to steam as the city walls’ lasers continue to rake the area, as the gravity assisted brass pegasus plunges into the murky river.

As the water is falling back down like a localized Hoofington rainstorm over the river, the city wall turrets finally disengage and go dark as their target is no longer visible.

Footnote: !!!’BlueMac.Cred’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’⮐⭦⮤⭦⭻🢣⮐⭠.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’🢤⭲⭧⭦🢤⭣⭲⭨.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

Perk Unlocked: Falling Star Rank 1: Prepare for impact!

Gravity’s a bitch, and don’t you know it. She’s thrown you to the ground so often that you’re starting to get used to it. At this point, you expect it even. Because you have little else you can do as the ground rushes up to greet you, you can at least prepare for impact. Now you take proportionally less fall damage each time you fall regardless of height. This effect is increased if it’s caused from getting shot down, yet again. Furthermore you’ve started to learn how to use gravity to your advantage and started unlocking maneuvers. More maneuvers will become available as the perk ranks up.

67 Dredging Up Bad Memories

Priest runs around the guardrail and down the length of the embankment on Chapel’s side of the river until he’s roughly perpendicular with where Gearing splashed down at. His eyes dart across the surface of the quickly moving water until they find a spot where bubbles are popping up semi regularly and he yells out, “He’s not surfacing!”

Swift trots towards Priest casually as she keeps looking at the high walls of the Hoofington Core. “Hey, Priest, you sure you should be getting that close to the water? Those turrets seem to be of the extra angry sort.”

Priest shakes his head as he spares her a glance. “They don’t shoot this side of the river. So we’re safe.” He looks back and forth between Swift and where the bubbles are in the river as he comments, “He’s still not surfacing; I don’t see him…”

Swift sits down and waves dismissively with a forehoof as she says, “Give’em a minute.”

Priest looks over at her as he tilts his head. “Why don’t you seem concerned about this? Aren’t you friends? After all, you tried to warn him about the defense grid…”

Swift smirks at the black unicorn as she shrugs. “Get to know him, and you’ll find out why.” She looks out at the water and giggles as she says, “He’s survived getting shot down, blown up when a sky wagon detonated, and a building dropped on his head, all in the same afternoon…” She waves her hoof dismissively again. “There’s no way a little water is going to be a problem.”

Priest’s eyes go wide for a moment as he looks at her and tries to figure out if she’s being serious. But, failing to find any real evidence of it either way, he can’t help pointing out a fault in her logic. “Even if he’s tough, that doesn’t mean he can’t drown.” He motions with a hoof at the water. “And he’s already been under far longer than is healthy; we need to get him out.”

Swift waves it off with a hoof again. “Don’t worry, Priest, he can’t drown.” To Priest’s slightly arched eyebrow she adds, “He doesn’t need to breath. We’ve been over this a few times and he’s rather adamant about that fact. Annoyingly and cockily so at that. So he’s fine, I’m sure.” She looks over at the water and partially frowns as she lets out a sigh. “Now we just have to wait on him to get his act together. Again.”

Priest looks back and forth, but the worry doesn’t leave his facial features at all. “If he can’t drown, then why hasn’t he surfaced yet? You sure he’s okay?”

Swift nods and points off into the water a distance away. “His heavy ass probably sank like a rock.” She slaps the side of the embankment for emphasis with a soppy splat sound as she says, “Straight to the bottom.” She holds up her right foreleg to show her PipBuck as she smirks. “I can still see his marker out there. So he’s fine.”

Priest glances at the PipBuck before he asks, “Then… why’s he not climbing out?”

Swift shrugs. “Maybe he found something interesting down there. That buck has some serious curiosity issues.”

“That… doesn’t make sense…” Priest replies quietly as he gives it some thought.

Handy pokes his head over the embankment’s crest a distance away and closer to the bridge, looks around, and spots the pair further down the river. He quickly trots towards them as he asks, “Hey, what’s going on? The kids are running around and flipping out about ‘the shiny metal butt pegasus’ getting in a fight with the city walls?” He looks around randomly some more as he asks, “Where’s Gearing?”

Swift and Priest both point a hoof out into the water.

“He took a dip,” Swift says with a bit of amusement in her voice.

“Your friend had a disagreement with the city wall defense grid and jumped into the water to avoid the lasers,” Priest adds solemnly.

Handy’s eyes jump open as he asks, “He really did get into a fight with the city walls?” He looks back and forth between them and the water before he asks, “Who won?”

Swift smirks and giggles. “Well, his ego bit off more than he can chew this time.” She giggles some more and says in a singsongy voice, “He fought the waaaaaalls, and the waaaaaalls won…”

“Actually,” Priest begins. They look over at him and Priest nods as he finishes in a quieter tone, “Considering he actually survived the encounter with the city wall’s defense grid… I’d say he was indeed the victor.” A slight smile appears across his lips as he says, “He fought hard to preserve his life. And I’m happy to say he still has it. So, yes, he won.”

“Eh, I guess that counts,” Swift replies with a laugh.

Handy walks over near Swift as he asks, “How long has he been under?”

Swift shrugs. “Few minutes.”

Handy looks back and forth between the water and her as he asks, “Has… has he moved at all?”

Swift smirks as she glances at him sideways. “Handy, the indicator doesn’t exactly give me distance here…”

Handy looks out at the water and then mutters aloud as he thinks, “We can get a fix on his position based on our two points and using his indicator marker as the third.” He turns and starts trotting further away from the bridge along the embankment as he says louder so he’s sure the others can hear, “Using our EFSs together we can see if he’s making any progress. Just point out the line you see him at, and I’ll do the same from over here.”

Swift shrugs and juts out her hoof towards where the marker is on her display as she watches Handy get into position about forty feet further down the river on the embankment. Handy sits down, thrusts out his hoof, and then asks, “Do you notice any movement on the marker at all?”

Swift focuses on the indicator along the peripherals of her vision for a few seconds before she says, “Yeah. But not much. It’s kinda jittery if anything. Only slight movements.”

Handy nods as he says, “Pretty much the same thing from here. Only slight movements...”

They sit like that for a few minutes, with nothing really changing, before Handy asks, “Well? Anything different?”

“No, same thing,” Swift replies.

“Oh…. Shit,” Handy replies as his eyes go wide. He starts running towards Swift and Priest as he yells, “We gotta get him out of there!”

Swift waves it off with a hoof as she says, “You don’t gotta throw a panic over it, Handy. Remember, he doesn’t breathe so he’s not gonna drown.”

“He can’t fucking swim, Swift!” Handy yells as he runs past Priest.

Priest’s head zips over to look at Handy as worry and alarm take over his facial features again. “What was that?!”

Handy points off into the water towards the marker on his EFS display. “He doesn’t need to breathe, but he can’t swim.” Handy looks off into the water as his normally grumpy face morphs into fear laced concern. “He might be stuck in the silt at the river’s bottom.”

Swift raises an eyebrow as she asks, “What are you talking about, Handy? I thought Gearing was the paranoid one?”

Handy looks at her and narrows his eyes as he asks, “You remember when you were asking what we were talking about earlier?” Swift nods, so Handy thrusts a hoof out into the water as he yells, “This is part of it! He told me himself. This is like his own personal fucking nightmare!”

Priest starts climbing the embankment as he asks, “What do we need to get him?”

Handy shakes his head and shrugs. “I’d say just lift him out if you could.” Handy points at his head but then adds, “Short of that? Some rope long enough to reach out there and something to help it sink… or, hell, even a long bit of chain.” He looks back out at the water and groans as he says, “We’re gonna have to pull him out.”

“I’d need to be able to see him to have any chance of levitating him, and the waters too dark…” Priest replies over his shoulder. As the other two sit there focusing on the water, Priest quickly runs off and yells back, “I’ll get something to help!”

Swift and Handy sit there staring at the water, and can’t help but notice that the bubbles have long since stopped rising to the surface.

“He’s… he’s really not getting out… is he?” Swift asks as she focuses more on her EFS display than anything that’s actually in front of her.

Handy slowly shakes his head as he keeps straining to look at the surface of the water, hoping to see through it, as he comments, “No… not on his own it looks like…”

“He’ll be fine though… right, Handy?”

“You’ll have to ask him when he gets out… I don’t know how living through a personal hell like that would affect somepony,” Handy replies flatly with a frown.

Swift grins and waves a hoof towards the water. “Awww, come on. It’s not that serious… He’s probably down there plotting what he’s going to do next. I bet once he gets out, he goes and grabs a pile of garbage from the ditch, and comes back with a tank for round two with the walls.” She waves her hoof around as she giggles, “Probably with a whole lot of explosives and while somehow rigging up a balefire bomb out of a washing machine and Sparkle Cola to throw at it. Especially if you hear Dandy tell it.”

Priest comes running back with a bundled up rusting chain floating in front of himself. “Here, I got this, although I’m afraid it may not be as long as I think we need.” A group of young ponies, mostly made up of the gawkers that watched Gearing walk to the bridge, follow close behind Priest. Between a gray colt and a filly slightly bigger than him they manage to carry a box to the embankment.

The pair drop the box along the embankment and the gray colt points at it as he says, “We brought rope too.”

Handy hops over and looks between them as he says, “We’re going to need the weight of the chain so it sinks straight down instead of getting carried off by the river’s current.” He fishes out the end of the rope and starts attaching it to the end of the chain as Priest holds it up with his levitation field for Handy to work on easier. Handy runs the rope through several links in the chain’s end, weaving it back and forth, before folding the rope over and deftly crafting a thick multi wrapped knot around all of it.

As Handy is checking on the connection’s strength, by giving it several hard tugs, he asks Priest, “Do you think you can train the chain out there and dump it like a conveyor belt into the river?”

“What?” Priest asks as he raises an eyebrow.

“I can just take it out there and drop it in for him; I can stay close to the surface. No problem,” Swift comments as she reaches for the chain.

Handy jerks sideways away from her, keeping it out of her reach as he says, “No you won’t. We have no idea how far out those lasers can shoot.”

“Well, it can’t be that serious…” Swift replies as she slowly drops her outstretched hoof back down.

Priest looks at her and frowns as he says, “There are very few that have mapped out where is safe and where is not on the river. Because those that are wrong typically don’t live long enough to tell the tale.” He looks back and forth before he says, “You’re husband is right. The lasers are capable of reaching the water’s surface in certain areas. I would advise against it.”

Swift flops down on her haunches and crosses her forelegs across her chest as she grumbles, “Well I’m not useless you know! I bet I could just jump in there and get him out in like two seconds flat if I really tried…”

Handy and Swift exchange a long hard eye contact as she slowly narrows her eyes. And, Handy knows, he can tell just by looking at her, that she’s strongly debating on doing just that.

“The current is even stronger than it appears, I wouldn’t advise it or we’ll have two ponies that need rescuing,” Priest replies reasonably.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a strong swimmer when I want to be. Like a big ole fish even,” Swift quips with a smirk.

“I still wouldn’t-” Priest begins but gets talked over and cut off mid sentence by Handy.

“No!”

“‘No’?” Swift asks with a venomous tone.

“You’re not being useless!” Handy quickly blurts out, and rather defensively at that. “We all need you to help pinpoint where he is again with your EFS. And once we get him on the chain we’re going to need you to help pull him out.” He shakes his head quickly. “You’re not being useless, just please let us do this a smart way that won’t cause any problems… please?”

Swift purses her lips to the side as she gives it a moment’s contemplation. “But you’re convinced this is a serious problem and he needs rescuing?”

Handy nods quickly before he says, “If he could have gotten out on his own, I’m sure he would have done it. And, if this is all an overreaction, we get to razz him about it for making us worry and lying to me about it.”

Swift rolls her eyes before she turns her head and looks out in the water. “Well, if it’s that serious, we gotta get him out…”

Handy waves the chain’s end with it grasped with his fetlock as he says, “Working on it!”

Swift looks back at him and gives Handy a sweet smile before she says, “And if that doesn’t work, I’m doing things my way.”

After a long groan of understanding Handy pleads, “Come on, Swift… We got enough to deal with without you doing that…”

“There’s no ‘Come on, Swift,’ this time, Handy.” She smirks as she tilts her head and waves it away dismissively. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’ll be careful to avoid any problems.”

Handy shakes his head to cast off all of the gloomy thoughts that creep into his mind before he says, “That assumes this method fails. So we’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“As long as it’s not that bridge,” Swift says with a smirk as she points at the bridge up the river that leads to the Hoofington Core and Gearing recently jumped off of.

Priest nods and smiles at her as he says, “That would be a preferable choice, yes.”

Handy uses the edge of his hoof to draw a small diagram in the ground and starts discussing how he wants the chain to be dropped into the water with Priest. Afterwards he asks, “Can you?”

“I believe so, yes,” Priest replies with a single nod of his head.

Handy starts walking away as he says, “Okay, let’s pinpoint where he is again so Priest can drop the chain down for him. Just remember to go further than you think you need to, Priest. It’d be better to drop it on his head, than it would be to fall just short.”

Handy resumes his previous location, confirmed by his own fresh hoofprints on the embankment, and points off towards where he sees the marker on his EFS. He frowns even harder as he can’t help but notice that, yes, the marker seems to be in the exact same place where it had been previously.

Once Swift resumes her task of playing ‘Point Out The Gearing’ Priest stands in between them and uses their forehoof angles as a target to drag the chain out to. He picks the chain up in its entirety with his levitation field and quickly snakes the loose end of it out in the general direction of where the pair is pointing out just above the water’s surface. Giving a strange impression of a weird glowing water snake in the process. Once there, the end of the chain loses it’s glow, and simply allows gravity to take over as it points straight down towards the water. Using this method of magically pushing the chain out and simply dropping it, Priest quickly starts feeding the chain link by link out into the river.

As the chain is continuously getting fed into the water, with no end in sight, Handy yells over, “How deep is this thing?!”

Priest replies calmly, “There is no telling, actually.” Priest’s eyes jump to the side as he notices a color change in the tether they’d made and watches as the rope portion floats past him along with the chain to get dropped in as well. “We’re already getting into the rope length of it.” He starts using the furthest end of the chain still within his overglow to wiggle and sway the length of the chain side to side to try and draw attention to the dangling bit.

Suddenly the chain gets yanked down into the water, and what had previously been a slow and steady feed turns into an alarmingly fast uncoiling.

“Something’s got the end, I’m losing it!” Priest yells out before he reaches over and chomps down on the rope with his teeth. The maneuver causes his head to get jerked straight out painfully as he’s tugged and pulled towards the water’s edge. The younger ponies, who had simply been standing by and watching the action, jump over as they see Priest getting dragged towards the water. They all form up, grab hold of the line, and start tugging and digging their hooves into the embankment.

“I just saw him move!” Handy yells out as he notices the marker on his vision make a sudden lurch forward.

“Me too!” Swift confirms.

There’s a lull as the improvised cordage has gone completely taut, but is no longer being rapidly drawn out as the force on it has slacked off to simple equilibrium. Priest’s jaw aches from the force he’d applied and getting jerked away by his mouth, but he firmly plants his hooves and keeps his ground as he digs into the embankment and stares out at the water with a steely determination not to let go.

Swift and Handy join the pony line, with Handy getting at the very end and acting as an anchor as he wraps the rope around a foreleg before biting onto it further up the line in preparation to pull.

Swift lands right behind Priest and grabs the rope as she looks off at the water. “He’s not moving again.”

A few seconds later Priest’s eyes go wide as he feels a very rhythmic increase in pressure on his teeth as the rope is pulled, then slightly slacked, repeatedly. In short bursts of three.

Tug, tug, tug.

Tug, tug, tug.

Tug, tug, tug.

“Puhl!” Priest yells as he pushes back and tries to jump away from the water with his grip on the rope. At the same time, everypony else starts pulling backwards, digging their hooves into the muddy embankment as they struggle against the cordage.

And, a split second later, they all jerk backwards suddenly as there seems to be a sudden and massive decrease in pressure at the end.

As they are recovering and reeling in the slack in sequence with each other, Swift yells out, “He moved again!”

But, after reeling in a bit of slack, and far less progress than they would have hoped for otherwise, the line goes taut again. So they start tugging and pulling, but not making any perceivable headway anymore.

Handy swirls the rope around his foreleg as he squats down in preparation for a quick jerk backwards as he yells, “He’s gotta be stuck in the bottom! We’re going to have to drag him out!”

Again they keep a steady pressure on the line as they try to figure out the best way to go about breaking the stalemate.

Then the line starts rhythmically tugging again, from the other side, and Priest instantly screams out around the rope once more, “Pahl!”

Once again everyone starts pulling back with the rope, and even stumble as the rope goes momentarily slack, but a split second later they find pulling the line to be far easier as they all quickly retreat from the river. However, as what had happened last time, the rope goes taut as the pressure on the other end seems like it's being held down by Discord himself. They all start rearranging themselves closer to the water to get ready for another rapid pull of the rope.

Swift zips around Priest and gets in front as she yells, “Everyone turn around and get ready to run away from the water. As soon as I yell, start running and don’t stop!” She turns toward Priest as he gets right behind her at the rope and comments, “Don’t get so close to my butt. Back up a bit.”

Priest’s eyes go wide as he says, “I didn’t mean to encroach on your personal space; I have no ulterior motives, I assure you!”

Swift rolls her eyes and smirks as she shoos him away with a forehoof and waves her wings at him. “I’m going to fly as soon as I can and if you’re too close you might get your teeth ripped out before you have time to let go of the rope.”

“Thank you for the warning, but make sure to fly away from the river to avoid the defense grid.” Priest dips his head respectfully and quickly repositions himself. “Better?”

Swift smiles warmly with a grin so wide her eyes close as she nods. “Perfect!” Then she opens her eyes partially and the glare she gives him is a mixture of smug confidence and malicious glee. “And, make sure you all drop the rope as soon as I take off.”

As she turns around and grabs the rope with her forelegs while dipping downward, taking note at the same time that they are actually getting close to the chain section again, Priest passes the warning along to the other ponies.

A moment later a series of tugs start, and Swift doesn’t even wait for the sequence to play out as she screams, “Pull!” and then she rears up and pulls backwards. As the others in the line start pulling, again the line seems to go slack as the tension on the other end seems to be suddenly cut from the sudden combined force of their efforts.

But this time Swift springs back, jumps, and starts flying up and at an angle away from the water towards the center of Chapel. Instantly the others let go and a few of the younger ponies crash into each other, as they suddenly find themselves so off balance, and watch as the sky blue pegasus with the tornado cutie mark gives them a new benchmark for speed.

The chain quickly comes flying out of the water at an increased pace, and a higher angle, as Swift keeps flying not only away, but up, as she tries to get as much of the chain out of the water before it becomes lodged again. Her method, while potentially reckless, pays dividends as the end of the chain comes shooting up and out of the water, with a massive muddy golden anchor on the end. And as soon as it seems to her like he’s going to make it far enough to clear the worst of it, Swift drops the line and turns back around to fly down towards the embankment again.

Gearing, with the chain wrapped around his body repeatedly, and several times around his neck, hits the water just short of the river’s edge with a metal shipping box held firmly with his legs and wings. His hind quarters, and all legs, are covered in a brackish dark colored sludgy sediment that clings to him relentlessly despite the rapid water movement he just emerged from. Gearing’s wide eyed glare looks up from the box, sees the shore, and uses the metal box he’s holding onto as a stepping stone to jump towards the embankment.

But, as he impacts into the muddy river side, it becomes clear why he isn’t flying. Although he’s obviously trying, he can’t. His wings are barely functional as several points have melded together and refuse to move at all. Causing the rigid limbs to flop around stiffly as he continuously tries to fly away from the water. Even after making it to shore.

As the others are running over to check on him, he quickly scrambles, with every single one of his limbs, as he digs into the embankment in a bid to put more distance between himself and the river. His movements are spastic as he grasps at anything and everything he can to pull himself further up and away from the water while his wings do little to nothing but flop around impotently.

Swift comes back and hovers overheard with a smug grin on her muzzle as she folds her forelegs in front of her chest. “See, told ya he’d be fine.”

“Gearing… are you o-” Handy starts, as he’s walking up, but then stops and jumps to the side as Gearing actually gets more solid footing and starts really moving.

Gearing, still wrapped in the chain, and with his wings nothing more than mangled stiff decorations, goes running as quickly as he can away from the river. In a straight line. And through the air space where Handy had just been occupying. As the others watch with confusion, Gearing bolts away at the highest speed he’s capable of at the moment as the sludge covering him slowly oozes off.

The others follow him, trying to find out what’s going on, as he practically stampedes through Chapel. His wide eyed bewildered look is more than a little concerning as the chain whips along behind him. After running around one of the buildings, he seems to zero in on a spot where a shipment of goods is sitting to be sorted. All in metal and wooden containers and neatly stacked along a wall. The group comes around the corner in time to watch Gearing awkwardly clamber up the stack of boxes. A few of which get knocked over and fall from the stack in the process. As they are watching, Gearing crests the pile of boxes, and backs into the building with his head facing outwards from it. He then squats down and holds onto the boxes under him, regularly testing their solidity with his hooves as he tries to make sure he has a firm grasp on them.

Priest slowly walks forward as he looks Gearing over, and can’t help but notice as Gearing’s strange form seems to vibrate and jerk sporadically as he lays on top of the stack of crates like some dragon guarding its hoard. “Gearing… That’s your name, right? Are you okay?”

“Water,” Gearing replies flatly as he gazes off into space with a thousand yard stare.

Priest nods as he says, “I’m sure that was scary. But you’re out of it now.”

“Water,” Gearing replies again without giving any acknowledgement to anything that Priest had said.

Handy walks up next to Priest as he says, “Gearing…? You alright?”

“Water,” Gearing replies again.

“What about the water, Gearing?” Priest asks as he looks him over. “Did you see something down there?”

“Water,” he replies again. And while Priest and Handy exchange concerned glances with each other, Gearing adds, “Taste funny.”

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks, “The water tastes funny?”

“Something’s in the water,” Gearing repeats quickly. “Water taste funny.”

Swift slowly lands next to them as she looks at Gearing. “Gearing?”

Handy looks at her sideways and lets out a sigh before he says quietly, “He’s not okay.”

Priest’s horn glows, and they watch as segments of the sludge covering Gearing start resonating with the same color before getting scooped off and plopped to the side in a broken bucket. They watch as he slowly works and says in a soft soothing voice, “You’re safe now, Gearing. You’re fine. You’ve found your way back to the light.” Small segment after small segment is removed, revealing his dull dirty brass hide and, eventually, the chains that he apparently worked so hard to bind himself with. “Easy now,” Priest says softly as he changes tasks.

Very slowly the chain begins unknotting itself and unwrapping itself from Gearing under Priest’s careful magically manipulated direction. But despite the weight being removed from him, and the soft grinding noise in some cases, despite Priest’s best attempts to avoid it, Gearing doesn’t move as Priest takes the filth covered chain off of Gearing. The only real movement from Gearing is the sporadic rapid vibrations across various spots on his body. But it becomes obvious that that’s involuntary as it simply doesn’t stop. And all his shivering seems to do is make the muck slide off him just a tad bit faster.

After getting the chain off of Gearing, Priest sets it to the side and resumes magically removing the rest of the dark colored material from Gearing’s metallic pelt.

Swift walks closer to Gearing as she asks softly, “Has… has he locked up again?”

“Looks like it,” Handy confirms with a groan.

Swift reaches up with a forehoof and waves it in front of Gearing’s wide open eyes. Eyes that apparently aren’t seeing anything as they give no response to her encroachment. “Gearing?”

“Water,” Gearing replies again. “Water taste funny… something in the water.”

As Priest is getting the rest of the sludge off of the outside of Gearing he asks, “Something like this happened before?”

Handy nods. “Yeah. He completely locked up and sounded like a one note broken record the day before yesterday.”

Priest looks at Handy sideways as he starts pulling out as much of the gunk as he can from in between Gearing’s many segments. “And what caused that?”

Swift looks at him sheepishly before she says softly, “Pregnancy scare…”

Priest lets out a sigh as he replies, “It’s a sad thing when something so joyous as the creation of a new life is cause for enough panic to label it as a ‘scare’.” He sadly shakes his head before he looks Gearing over again and says quietly, “So this is likely to be more fright induced, instead of a physical malady you think?”

Handy points a hoof at Gearing’s malformed wings and comments, “His wings are definitely in rough shape. But it’s not the first time, so that shouldn’t have done it.”

Swift nods as she looks the crystalline green shapes over. “And the crystals that he’d lost to the lasers have already filled back in…”

“But the metal seems to be warped at certain points…” Handy comments as he leans in and gives them a critical eye. He glances between Swift and Priest as he asks, “So he really did get in a fight with the city’s defense grid?”

Priest nods, but can’t help smiling as he says, “Yes, and yet he lives… Celestia protects, Luna defends…” He takes in a deep breath as he looks Gearing over and comments softly, “He must certainly curry favor with them for him to be so lucky.”

Swift steps closer to Gearing as she tries to get a better look at him, and Priest comments quickly, “Watch your step.” Swift freezes in her tracks and starts looking around as Priest adds, “Your friend may not be well, nor thinking correctly at the moment, but his statement is nevertheless true. There is something in the water that makes those who drink from it ill. So do not step in the river sludge; it’s surely contaminated.”

Swift looks down and quickly back peddles away from the growing pile of filth overflowing the broken bucket.

While Swift is still trying to evaluate the threat level of what she thinks is mere mud, a gray colt trots up with a bucket full of water and sets it down next to Priest. “Here. This’ll help clean him up good.”

Priest looks at it as he asks, “From the rain barrel?” The little gray colt nods and Priest smiles as he starts levitating out some of the water. “I’m sure he appreciates the gesture. Thank you.”

The gray colt flops down on his haunches as he looks at Gearing and blurts out, “Never seen nopony go buckn’ at the gates and make it back before...”

Swift leans towards him and grins as she asks, “You ever seen anypony get a building dropped on their head, and all it do is make ’em mad?” The gray colt’s eyes jump wide open, and he quickly shakes his head. Swift nods towards Gearing as she says, “Happened to him just this last week… Saw it myself. He’s tough, don’t worry.”

“Hard headed is more like it,” Handy adds with a wry grin and sideways glance at Swift.

“Oh like you’re one to talk!” Swift replies with a smirk.

Priest quickly goes through the one bucket of water, and ends up pulling even more of the dark gunk out from in between Gearing’s cogs by flushing it with the water in the process. But it’s a slow process and it actually requires multiple buckets of water to complete, which the watching small ponies are more than happy to provide to Priest without even being prompted. As he’s working Priest takes care in making sure to put the filth tainted water into a separate container so it can all be dumped back into the river from where it came.

After Priest has succeeded in getting Gearing as clean as he can, he starts cleaning up the area around the storage crates. He stops and looks over as he feels a tiny hoof tapping on one of his forelegs. The filly that’d been trying to get his attention holds up Gearing’s mottled blanket and says softly, “Here. He needs it more.”

A warm radiant smile grows across Priest’s face before he takes the cloak up in his magic, and levitates it over Gearing as he thanks the little one.

With Priest’s over glow, the cloak wraps over and around Gearing, then snugs in tightly to his form, even with his wings sticking out at unnatural angles.

A moment later, the cloak seems to magically come alive again, without any form of over glow, as Gearing shimmies into it more, wraps himself tightly with it, and pulls himself into a ball within it so only his face is sticking out. And even of that, just barely so as most of his head is covered in the cowl portion of it.

Like some sort of strange metal filled pony burrito.

Swift walks around the piles of sludge that Priest is carefully gathering up to discard as she asks, “Gearing…”

The flat reply she gets draws a frown from her as he repeats, “Water taste funny. Taste like sad music.” Though the last comment draws confused looks from everypony present.

Hearing the monotoned reply, yet again, the group of gawking colts and fillies decide it’s time to leave. The excitement is over and, at this point, this is a bit too depressing and sad to watch. So they leave the three outsiders to themselves while they go and tend to their own business.

“Why’d you do that? You knew the defense grid was active,” Swift asks with an exasperated sigh as she slaps a hoof over her eyes.

“White list,” Gearing replies in the same tone but, again, adding something different.

“What was that?” Handy asks as he leans towards Gearing.

“White list. Shouldn’t have happened,” Gearing repeats.

“What ‘white list’ what’s that got to do with the city’s defense grid?” Swift asks as she looks back and forth between him and Handy.

“Not possible. Can’t attack white list. Not possible to attack white list. White list can’t be targeted,” Gearing rambles as he keeps his same position.

“Any of this making sense to you, Handy?” Swift asks as she looks back and forth between them.

“What white list Gearing? Where?” Handy asks as he doesn’t look at Swift.

“Not possible. Can’t target white list. Not possible.” Gearing repeats in a quick monotoned ramble.

Swift stares at Handy, taking note that he’s not actually responded to her, as she asks again but with a slightly crossed tone to her voice, “Handy, does this make any sense to you?”

“No sense. Can’t target white list. Not possible,” Gearing replies.

Swift looks over at Gearing and sighs as she says, “Sounds like a broken record again…”

“Broken? Can’t target white list. Not possible. White list broken,” Gearing mutters.

Handy looks Gearing over and says softly, “Can’t target the white list… so if targeted, white list changed…”

Swift flops down and looks between them before she slaps her hooves onto the side of her cheeks and yells out in obvious frustration, “Would somepony please tell me what’s going on in plain pony. Please?! I don’t get it, what does all this even mean?”

Gearing replies flatly as he keeps his thousand yard stare and draws startled glances from both Swift and Handy.

“Somebody’s already inside.”

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’🢤⭲⭧⭦🢤⭣⭲⭨.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’⮄⭧⭦⌤⎋⭾⭿.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

68 Sweet Success

While Swift and Priest walk down the center of the street on the way to Chapel’s namesake, Swift keeps a keen eye on their surroundings as they continue talking quietly into the night.

“… well, if that’s the case, he’d be happy to know that she made it out of Brimstone’s Fall and is doing far better now. She was just here, you’re group only missed her by a matter of hours,” Priest comments before coming to a halt and looking back over his shoulder from where they’d come. “Do you believe telling him that would help pull him out of it?”

Swift stops and slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know. But somehow I doubt it.” She lets out a gushing sigh and looks back at the building where they currently have Gearing stashed at. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to tell him right now. Honestly, the last thing we need is for him to go stampeding off to try to help in whatever state this is that he’s fallen into.” She shakes her head. “It’d do more harm than good for sure.”

Priest raises an eyebrow without even looking at her, and keeping his focus off towards where he knows the gold and green traumatized buck is currently cowering. “Do you have some plan for bringing him out of it?”

“Well Handy’s working on Gearing’s wings at the moment.” She shivers and flutters her own wings in painful solidarity as she continues, “I can’t believe he’s just laying there and letting Handy break his wings over and over… But, apparently that’s what needs to happen to get his wings to heal right. That’s what they had to do before. Break off the fused points and let the other parts heal back together correctly.” She looks over at Priest and adds, “And Gearing seems to be lost in his own thoughts trying to work through things on his own. All of that mumbling and muttering is confusing. But Handy seems to get at least some of it… so…” Swift throws her forehooves up in the air at her sides in a lackadaisical shrug. “Wait until morning and see if he’s any better, I guess?”

“And if time isn’t enough?” Priest asks as he swings his focus back around to look at her.

Swift instantly avoids eye contact with him and sits back on her haunches as she starts slowly tapping her forehooves together. “I have a couple ideas… yes…” She gives him a sheepish grin as she says quietly, “On a related topic: if a gang of raiders or anything attacks in the night, tell Gearing as quickly as you can. That might just be enough to snap him out of it by itself.”

Priest looks her over then asks with only a hint of it being an actual question, and far more understanding in his calm voice, “He has a protective personality, I take it?”

Swift nods and looks off to the side. “Especially when it comes to foals, or youth in general, yeah.” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t even have any of his own, but seems to have a fierce paternal protective instinct that’d make an Ursa proud anyway.”

He frowns and slowly shakes his head. “I would prefer if his recovery didn’t involve bloodshed and the loss of life… but I’ll keep that in mind.” He nods off towards the side as he adds, “Make sure to get some sleep yourself. Your care for your friend is admirable, but you two are going to need rest as well.” He gives her the faintest smile as he says, “You won’t be able to help take care of others, if you’re too tired to even take care of yourself.”

Swift nods and turns to go back towards where Handy is working on Gearing. “Will do. Thanks for letting us stay the night, Priest.”

Priest gives a slight nod before turning and heading towards the chapel. “It’s the least I could do given your friend’s state. Perhaps Luna will guide him back to us during the night. I’ll check in with you in the morning, sleep well.”

* * *

The next morning shines as bright as any other Hoofington sunrise. That is to say it’s as dreary as can be with clouds that threaten to rain at any second. And just as disappointing as the weather is what Swift discovers after waking up and checking on the only non organic member of her current entourage.

Gearing apparently hasn’t moved at all since Handy called it a night and went to bed with her the night before.

The building that Gearing is currently performing a statue impersonation in is one where the residents of Chapel don’t actually sleep in. Not regularly anyway it seems. The space has a variety of items, and as Swift walks in, a couple of the young residents of Chapel go about their business of disassembling some items for their components and separating them out into other boxes for resale at Charity’s. From Swift’s perspective it’s as close to a workshop that they have here, with random fasteners and bits of metal or plastic scattered across the floor as the youths noisily go about ripping apart one item or another.

But Gearing pays them no mind. All he seems to be able to do is sit on top of a metal steam chest, curled up on top of it with all four of his hooves digging into the side of it tightly, as he stares off into space at a wall directly across from him. He’s bundled back up with his cloak, but not nearly as tightly as he was originally. Despite his wings being mostly fixed and actually properly folding at his sides again. It took a minor miracle to get him off that supply shipment and into this room, but Swift can’t help but wishing for it to be okay to ask for another one, and for him to snap out of it finally.

But, no dice.

Her waving her hoof in front of his face produces nothing. Not even flapping her wings and forelegs millimeters from his face, strong enough to make the cowl blow off his brow from the breeze they create, causes him to so much as blink.

Feeling utterly defeated and frustrated she heads back out into the street and starts slowly walking towards the Post Office. She slowly takes in the view of Chapel during the morning light, and finds that her gaze is brought up to the church once more. She looks up at the stained glass picture of Luna, with her warm confident smile, and can’t help but smiling herself in return. And while it draws her focus a feeling spreads over her that causes her to be pulled to it as she changes direction and starts walking towards the image. She’s not sure why she is drawn towards it so strongly, although, as she apparently has the princess’s attention, she can’t help but muttering, “Too much even for you to do in one night, huh?”

But Luna simply smiles back without any comment.

Swift’s eyes lose focus as she looks at the stained glass picture, and her eyes slowly stop seeing Luna, and instead start seeing the various blurs of color. The stained glass work as a whole draws her mind’s eye and a moment later she remembers the short conversation she had with Gearing at this very spot the night before.

‘Coming in, or deciding if you want to make one too?’

Gearing had been so focused on the picture that she couldn’t help but finding it so endearing. He’s a private individual, she knows that much. So to see him so openly reacting to the image of Luna was a refreshing tidbit of information for her. And, apparently, it embarrassed him as he quickly turned around and muttered his reply.

‘No, to either… I’ll be out here…’

A smile slowly crosses Swift’s lips as she tilts her head and stares at the stained glass icon. “Oh… you’re goooood…”

She abruptly turns around and smiles widely as the various ideas swim around in her head, and she mentally thanks Luna for the insight: Gearing likes making and fixing things. He likes being, or at least feeling, useful.

Especially when foals are concerned.

Stable 68 and this entire journey is a pretty clear indicator to her for the lengths he’s willing to go for kids. Both figuratively and literally. Even kids that aren’t even his.

She hops into the air and quickly starts flying around. It doesn’t take her long to spot her target, and she lands next to the gray colt as he’s picking up a box from the pile that Gearing had been lording over the night before.

“Hey!”

The colt jumps up in the air, sending the box that was on his back soaring, as he squeals in surprise. He flips around and glares at her as he crouches down. “What ya want I ain’t done noth’n and I ain’t got noth’n!”

Swift catches the box in mid air, and plops it back on the ground, right side up, in front of the gray colt as she grins at him. “I gotta favor to ask.”

The colt eyeballs her suspiciously before he asks, “What kinda favor?”

She zips over next to him, warps a foreleg around his shoulder, and quickly starts chattering quietly in his ear.

The gray colt tenses up for a moment, then goes through a roller coaster of emotions as he isn’t entirely okay with randomly being grabbed by some strange mare. But, just as quickly, his facial features warp into various stages of confusion and curiosity as she mutters into his ear. After she’s apparently done breathing down his neck she pulls back with a grin and asks, “Well?”

He rubs the side of his neck with a hoof as he thinks it over for a few moments before he shrugs. “Uh… yeah… I’m sure they would…” He looks at her and tilts his head as he asks with blatant suspicion oozing from his voice, “Wwwwhy though? That’s all kiiiiinds of weird?”

“Well, he’s weird, and I think it’ll help.”

The gray colt shrugs then points off towards the post office before he says flatly, “You’re still gonna have to talk to Charity if ya wanna pull it off.”

Swift nods and quickly trots off towards the Post Office as she says, “I was heading there next. Go get any of your friends that’d be willing to chip in and I’ll meet you out at Charity’s.”

As Swift walks into the Post Office, the gray colt trots in behind her and sets the box down that he’d grabbed by the counter before walking off and grabbing a few items off the ground as he talks to the other youth that were busy sorting through various salvage.

Charity looks over at Swift as she’s walking up to the counter and leans sideways on it with a foreleg as she asks, “You here to let me know you and your friend are leaving to go take care of our agreement?”

Swift gives her a warm smile before sheepishly rubbing her neck. “Yeah, about that…”

“He still hogging up my floor space?” Charity asks as she narrows her eyes at Swift.

“Sorta… but… I’m working on getting him out of there… speaking of which, can I get some Sparkle Cola? And whatever sugary snacks you have?”

“They for him?”

Swift nods. “Hopefully it’ll be enough to get him-”

“A hundred caps each!” Charity snaps as she slams both forehooves onto the counter.

Swift’s eyes go wide as she asks, “Each?! Why?!”

“You said they’re for him. If he’s going to be a rude jerk than he can pay the Rude Tax! And the Annoying Charity Tax! And if he doesn’t hurry up and get out of there I’ll start charging him by the square foot for space he’s taking up and money he’s costing me!” Charity quips as she screws up her face in pure annoyance.

Swift looks around the store in pure shock, as if she’d just had a bucket of cold water dumped on her, but then a mischievous smile crosses her lips before she says, “Oh, they aren’t for him to eat.”

Charity narrows her eyes before she asks, “What?”

Swift points back towards the door and starts giggling. “I’m going to load up a bunch of kids with sugar, and send them after him. Weaponize that foalish energy into waking his ass up and get him moving.”

Charity unwraps a sucker as she stares at Swift. She pops it into her mouth before she asks, “So your plan is to annoy him into leaving?” Swift nods and grins even wider. “And who are you going to get to do this?” Swift points over to the gray colt, who’s actually stopped to pay attention to the conversation. Charity looks at him for a moment before nodding towards Swift. “She serious? You know anything about it?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think it’s bonkers, but,” he shrugs, “If she’s goin’ to buy me a buncha sweets in advance, I’m not gonna complain.”

Charity looks over at Swift and asks, “You gonna pay in advance, or expect me to add to your tab?”

Swift pulls out a bag and jingles the caps inside a bit with a wing. “I’ll pay in advance. Don’t worry.”

Charity grins as she says, “Well, in that care… I’ll charge the normal rate…Just to get him out of here.” She points at the gray colt. “But they take it… it’s for them not for that rude jerk, okay?”

Swift nods and starts forking over caps as the other kids run over and start taking items that Charity sets on the counter. After the group of youths skitter off, a group that had actually grown in size while Swift was still in the act of trying to pay, Charity takes the substantial amount of caps and puts them in a container behind the counter. As she’s peeking over the counter at Swift she asks, “Why would you pay so much to try and get him to leave?” She directs her muzzle back down as she mutters bitterly, “Jerk like him ain’t worth it.”

Swift leans over the counter as she says, “He’s not a bad buck, honestly.”

Charity’s head jumps up and glares at her before she says, “I should charge you a stupid tax from now on…”

Swift smirks and says, “He’s really not. I don’t know what that yesterday was about.” She grins and tilts her head as she asks, “Maybe he just needed a nap?” To the bewildered look Charity gives her Swift giggles and adds, “Hey, it was practically a foalish tantrum he threw… I’ve got three, I know… There’s just no logic to it sometimes…”

Charity rolls her eyes and goes back to sorting her newly acquired caps. “He’s too big to be acting like a foal.”

“You’re not wrong… Thanks Charity, I’ll go see about getting him moving again,” Swift comments with a wave of her wings before heading back out the door.

“Yeah, well, if it doesn’t work I am charging you a stupid tax! And don’t keep my help busy all day, they got work to do around here, ya know!” Charity yells as Swift is leaving.

Swift quickly meets up with the group of small ponies as they are already divvying up the various goodies and starting to snack. The gray colt looks up at her with his mouth full of a carrot filled buck cake before he asks, “Ought mow?”

Swift looks around and grins as she watches the kids excitedly munching on the various snacks she’d purchased. She squeezes past and peeks in through the door, only to sigh as she sees Gearing is still sitting perched on top of the metal crate. And, obviously, hasn’t moved a millimeter since she’d last checked.

Swift looks around at the kids, then points in at Gearing, “Okay, so… just do like I’d mentioned before… Talk, ask questions, be loud, whatever…”

A younger filly sipping on a Sparkle Cola asks, “What if he gets all mad though?”

Swift smiles at her and shrugs. “That’s fine. I’ll deal with him. I just need him to wake up first.”

The gray colt points at Swift as he looks at the little filly. “See… so go ahead!”

Swift sits down next to the door as she waves. “I’ll just sit right here and keep an eye on things.”

The kids clamor into the building, drawing stares from the pair of little ponies that were already in there, as the group spreads out and starts bouncing around. The other two ponies stop work, and join in on the fun, and feasting, as the kids spontaneously play in the makeshift workshop. It doesn’t take long before the sugar to start kicking around and the kids to all start bounding and bouncing around. The building starts turning into a rather loud obnoxious party as the kids run around enjoying the sugar high.

But despite their loud sugar induced obnoxious behavior, Gearing doesn’t move.

The gray colt walks up to Gearing as he’s drinking from a Sparkle Cola, and then asks with a chittering voice, “Hiya, so, like. Want some?” Gearing keeps staring off into space and the practical foal starts slowly rocking the bottle back and forth in front of his eyes, at increasing speed. But, still nothing. “No? Who doesn’t like Sparkle Cola?! You’re like.... Weird! Why are you so weird? Here, have some!” He tilts the bottle towards Gearing, but, still, nothing.

The gray colt slowly turns his head towards the front door and his ears flop down as he sees Swift has the same downtrodden expression across her face that he does. Because it just doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hey! Hey mister!” a filly’s voice squeals from behind Gearing. They all look on, and several stop frolicking as their eyes go wide, as the small filly from behind him climbs up next to Gearing, then starts hoping and bouncing around on Gearing’s back, in short, but high, bounds as she makes her way up to his head. She jumps onto his head and starts pouncing up and down as she giddily squeals, “Hey, hey mister!” She flops down onto his head, between his ears, and sprawls out over his head so she can look at him eye to eye from inches away. “Hey, shiny butt! Fix my dolly!”

The others look on in horror as the little filly uses Gearing’s head as a perch and stares at him eye to eye, upside down, and asks with a high pitch filly squeal that seems to echo off Gearing’s face, “Hellooooo, anypony home shiny butt?”

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes as she groans and realizes that, yes, she really did just ask them to subject Gearing to this kind of treatment. But can’t think of anyway of rephrasing it without causing any further problems.

“Wh-what Plum Pie?” Gearing’s voice comes out weakly.

Everyone goes from staring at the audacious little filly laying across Gearing’s head, to his mouth as they try to figure out if that was really him that broke through the noise they were all creating.

“I’m not a plum pie!” the little filly says with a scowl as she reaches down and grabs Gearing by the muzzle. “Fix my dolly, shiny butt!”

Gearing slowly blinks a couple times, increasing in speed with each cycle, before he actually focuses in his eyes at the filly that has her own eyes inches away from his. “What? Dolly?”

The little filly flicks a purple stuffed unicorn that she’d had held with her tail, catches it with her forehoof, and holds it up as she keeps hard eye contact with Gearing. “You fixed his wagon, you can fix my dolly, right?”

Gearing’s eye slowly drifts over to the little purple plushie before he asks, “Wh- what’s wrong with it?”

The little filly waves it around violently, causing one of the legs to eerily flop around before she says, “It’s broken. See.” She drops it on the ground in front of him a short distance from the box before she says, “You can fix it, right?”

Gearing slowly slides off of the box, putting one hoof tentatively onto the floor of the workshop in the process. He pushes on the floor a bit, testing the hardwood slates, before applying more and more of his weight. With one slow hoof step at a time he slides out from under his cloak, and off of the crate, as he steps closer to the treasured toy of the filly riding on his head. “L- let me see…”

After climbing off of the box, and out of the cloak, he curls up tightly into himself on the floor with his legs, and starts slowly looking the plushie over by manipulating it with a wing.

While he’s still examining it with a few careful rotations the little filly asks, “You fix ‘er?”

“That’s me,” he replies quietly.

The filly giggles and rocks side to side before pointing a hoof at the doll. “Well? What take so long?”

Gearing pulls out a metal Mint-al container, and opens it up. He carefully pours the contents out onto the floor, river water and all, and then fishes out a needle and thread from the inside of the puddle.

The other kids crowd around and chatter loudly as they watch Gearing get to work repairing the loose seams and stitching of the small plushie doll. The gray colt looks over at the door in time to see Swift practically vibrating with excitement with her hooves on her own cheeks. After the pair locks eyes she nods rapidly and shoos the colt towards Gearing without saying anything. After he goes over to join in on the rather loud conversations taking place all around Gearing, Swift leaves and does a quick victory lap around Chapel as she squeals with delight at her own cleverness.

But, giving credit where credit’s due in her opinion, she stops by the chapel and pays her respects to the one who gave her the idea as Gearing slowly starts climbing back out of his mental shell.

* * *

Going under the assumption that Gearing would seek them out when he was ready, Swift and Handy kept themselves busy with their own affairs and plans. But when an older colt that they don’t quite remember seeing before zips near them, and starts rummaging in a box near them they can’t but hear him muttering, “What else is broken around here?”

Swift walks over near the box and asks, “Why are you looking for broken stuff?”

The colt looks up and grins as he says, “That gold buck is fixing pretty much anything we give him. And he’s got some great stories!”

Swift shares sideways glances with Handy before asking, “Stories?”

The colt rummages in the box some more as he says, “Yeah, comics, Equestria, all kinds of stuff… ah hah!” He grabs out an old battered mining helmet, and runs off with it. “This should do!”

Handy and Swift look at each other, before Handy rolls his eyes, smirks, and waves a hoof in the same direction. “Go ahead… It’s only going to take one of us to remind him that we got places to be…”

Swift flies and follows the colt after giving Handy a quick peck on the cheek. She lands at the door right behind the excited colt, and catches the door as it’s swinging closed, preventing it from coming to entirely. She pokes her head around the door frame and looks in, watching with amazement as the kids, even as over sugared as they have to be, are all calmly sitting around Gearing in a huge semi circle watching and entirely enthralled as Gearing slowly works and talks with them.

Gearing uses a screwdriver in his mouth to make a couple turns on something held tight, and hidden within, the confines of his forelegs. Then lifts back, and reveals a small Griffonchaser toy as the kids look on with awe. He uses a hoof and pushes on the little toy to make it roll forwards and backwards a bit in sequence. The action of the oversized wheels cause the propellers to move as the toy’s apparently been brought back to life again. He hands it over to one of the surrounding kids, and they start passing it around as other small ponies bicker over what they want to have him fix for them next.

The little filly that had been bouncing on his head earlier has slide down to the middle of his back and starts slapping him on his side. “Hey, shiny butt.”

“Yeah?” Gearing asks as he slowly turns his head to look back at her.

“Why don’t you like… have your cutie mark on your armor?” she asks as she stretches out and slaps at the side of his haunches with a forehoof.

“Huh?” Gearing asks as he blinks with obvious confusion across his face.

One of the other colts looks Gearing over and shrugs as he says, “I bet he just don’t want anypony to know who he is. Lots of bads like to cause you grief if they know who you are.”

Another colt adds, “But the Steel Rangers at least have their markers on the armor, don’t they?”

The little filly lying across Gearing’s back asks, “Don’t have it here cuz you don’t want the badduns to see it and know?”

Gearing looks around at the group surrounding him, then says softly, “Oh… it’s not there… because…” He slowly looks down at the ground as he seems to run through his mind on what he wants to say. The ponies present all start leaning closer, interested in the actual answer, including Swift who actually stretches into the building a bit.

Gearing shrugs and looks back at the little filly before he says, “It’s not there… because I don’t have one.”

The gray colt spits out his Sparkle Cola that he was just sipping from before he asks, “You don’t have a mark?”

“What happened to it?” another colt asks, and instantly gets bonked on the head by a filly sitting next to him.

She hisses at him as she says, “That’s rude to ask!”

Gearing looks at them and shakes his head. “No, I didn’t lose it… I just haven’t gotten mine yet.”

Swift practically falls in the door, having to quickly stumble to keep from face planting on the hardwood floor, but the noise is covered up by the sound of the collective gasps from the younger ponies and instant burst of questions.

“How do you not have one yet?”

“How’s that possible?”

“Aren’t you a bit big to not have your mark?”

The little filly laying on his back leans back, rubs a hoof over where his mark would be if he’d had it, and asks, “Are you really a blank flank too?”

Gearing looks at her and smiles weakly as he says, “Yeah… I am.” He shrugs. “I’m just a late bloomer, I guess.” He lets out a sigh before he closes his eyes and says softly, “That’s what my mom used to say anyway…”

“Your momma?” the little filly on his back asks as she crawls around and looks at him in the face. Gearing nods and she asks, “Where she?”

“Gone,” Gearing hangs his head as he replies. “My mom’s gone…”

“Gone where?” the little gray colt says as he tries to drink the last of his Sparkle Cola, but then ducks down, squeals in pain, and drops it as he’s hit on the top of the head by the older filly sitting next him.

“As in dead, rocks for brains…” the offending pony snips quietly at him.

Gearing looks at them, then slowly nods as he quietly confirms, “Yeah…”

The little filly stretches up and gives him a hug from behind around his neck as she says quietly, “My momma’s gone too…”

Gearing looks at her sideways, then reaches around and wraps a wing around her and gives her a gentle squeezing hug in return.

The gray colt, rubbing the top of his head and wanting desperately to try and change the topic asks, “Sooo… you ever think about what your mark’s gonna be?”

Gearing looks over at him and smiles as he asks, “Yeah… don’t you?”

The chattering picks up as the new topic is fully accepted by the group and they start passing Gearing one thing or another to fix again as they all start talking again. But, as the topic picks up, Swift takes her leave, and silently closes the door behind herself. She’s glad that he’s getting back to his old self. And he seems to be enjoying himself. But out of everything she’d thought she’d run into with this situation, the knowledge she just out right stole via eavesdropping was not in the same plane of existence. It’s inconceivable to her. And all of the implications therein. She actually starts feeling a pit in her stomach, with a creeping crawling dirtiness that she can’t shake. That wasn’t meant for her ears and she knows it. It’s likely he wouldn’t have said anything at all if it wasn’t for the state he’s in. And she realizes that despite fixing things and engaging in conversation, he’s still not back to his old self. How slowly he’s doing everything, even talking, is another indicator of it as she actually thinks about it. So she decides she’s going to give him all the time he needs to get fully back into his own headspace.

But, on the way back to Handy, she can’t help but sitting in the middle of the street and looking up at the cloudy sky above as she mentally asks for clarification on what she’s trying to come to gripes with. Gearing doesn’t have his mark. His phrasing implies he just hasn’t gotten it yet. Like he’s expecting to get it at any time. So exactly how old is he? Is he even younger than I am? How is that even possible?

The implications are making her mind reel.

She tries to cast off all of the unpleasant and mind boggling thoughts by giving herself a violent full bodied shake before following a marker on her EFS. As she’s walking into the Post Office, both Handy and Charity turn to look at her as they pause their own conversation.

“You’re stupid super sugar plan work, or is he still sitting in there taking up space?” Charity asks with a frown.

Swift rubs the back of her neck with a forehoof as she says, “Sorta… he’s up and talking now at least.”

“Can’t he go and talk somewhere else?” Charity asks as she narrows her eyes at Swift. “What’s he still doing in there?”

Swift smiles at her and shrugs as she says, “He’s fixing things for the kids talking with him.”

Charity rolls her eyes as she says, “Great, so now after all of his talk about money being evil, he’s setting up shop in my workshop and not only distracting my helpers but making money off them too.” She ducks down under her counter as she grumbles, “I’m gonna charge him rent! By the square foot! I’m not running a charity here…”

“He is,” Swift says with a coy smile.

Charity’s ears jump up and she looks back over the counter at Swift before she asks, “What?”

Swift shakes her head and adds, “He’s not charging them anything. He’s just fixing things for them.”

“That’s stupid. Like… a new level of stupid tax kind of stupid… Why would he do it? What’s he get out of it?” Charity asks as she leans over the counter and looks at Swift suspiciously.

Swift shrugs as she says, “He’s doing it because they ask… and he likes helping… that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” Charity mutters as she glares at Swift and doesn’t buy it for a second.

The colt that Swift had fallowed earlier comes running into the Post Office with the mining helmet he’d found on his head as he giggles and laughs. He hops over to the counter, flicks his head, and the helmet lands on the counter right next to Charity, who doesn’t even flinch as she watches it come to a clanking stop next to her. The colt rears up and puts his forehooves on the counter as he says, “Hey, lookie! That busted old helmet’s all fixed!” He reaches over and hits the button near the small lamp on top, turning the light on and off quickly as he grins. “See! It even works now!”

Charity stares at it, and her eyes settle on the logo on the side of the helmet for an ancient coal mining company that went out of business suddenly when the world ended. “That hunk of junk? I thought I told you to throw it away in the scrap metal pile?”

The colt hits the button a few times again, scoops up the helmet, and puts it on, as he says, “Well, yeah, but I dug it out and that big colt fix it up good as new!” He starts heavily walking back and forth as he says, “I bet this’ll be great for digging in some of the ruins. Keeps your mouth free for picking through things!”

“Big colt?” Charity and Handy ask at the same time.

“The gold one?” Swift asks as she raises an eyebrow.

The younger colt nods rapidly, causing the helmet to rattle on his head before he says, “Yeah, he’s pretty good at fixing things!”

“Big gold colt?” Charity asks as she raises an eyebrow.

“He’s talking about Gearing… the one you want to evict,” Swift says with a sheepish smile.

“But, colt…?” Handy asks as he goes from looking at her to the helmeted colt parading around in the Post Office.

“Long story, Handy. I’ll explain later…” Swift says with a frown that lets Handy know he’s probably not going to like what he hears later.

Charity rapidly taps on the counter before she asks, “Hey, lemmie see that. How much he charge you for fixing it? Did he use our supplies or what?”

The colt flicks the helmet back over to Charity, who catches it mid air and starts closely examines it instantly. “He didn’t charge nothin’. I just asked him if he could fix it, and gave it to him. And he didn’t even answer. He just gave it back to me fixed.” He hops over and points at the lamp. “He used a busted flashlight to fix the lamp part. And I don’t know how he fixed the holes in the helmet part, but he did.”

Charity turns the helmet over a few more times before she says quietly, “I can actually sell this as more than scrap metal now… a lot more…” She looks over at the colt and asks, “He fixed other stuff too?”

The colt nods and points down the road to where Gearing is hiding in the building. “Yup. He’s just sitting there fixing stuff.”

Charity looks between the three before she takes a helmet and stores it behind the counter. “Well… he’s still a stupid jerk with the sense of a stable pony… but at least he’s not useless…” She ducks down behind the counter as she grumbles. “Fine. He can stay if he needs.”

Swift hops over and grins over the counter as she asks, “What was that?”

Charity peeks up over the edge of the counter at her and grumbles, “I said since he’s being useful, he can stay…” She hops up straight and waves a forehoof at Swift as she adds, “But if he starts annoying me again he’s getting taxed with everything I can think of!”

Swift nods quickly as she says, “Thanks. We’ll get going as soon as we can. I promise.”

Charity frowns as she replies, “You better… we got enough crazies coming through here lately…”

Swift and Handy quickly take their leave before Charity changes her mind and starts charging them simply for taking up floor space. And as they are crossing the road, they are intercepted by Priest.

“I hear your friend is up and about now, I’m glad to hear it.”

Swift nods as she replies, “Yeah, he’s talking and working again, but I don’t think he’s quite ready to go yet.”

Priest looks off towards the bridge to the core as he says, “Understandable given what he’s been through. And I know you two are in a rush, but it might be best to wait a bit longer before pushing on if you can. He’s managed a return trip from the bridge, and that’s no small feat. But even so he didn’t manage it unscathed. His scars are going to run deep from that.”

Handy looks back and forth as he lets out a long slow groan. “Well, I guess we can wait another day… after that we’ll have to at least go and see if we can get this done on our own without him. But what are we gonna do while we wait?”

Priest regards him for a moment before a warm smile spreads across his lips. “Well… the church is always open to those in need.”

* * *

That afternoon, while Handy, Swift, and Priest are deep in conversation as they sit on the pillows of the floor of the church, a meek voice breaks through and draws all of their attentions to the front door.

Gearing, out of his cloak, stands just outside of the threshold, looking in, and repeats a bit louder now that he actually seems to have their attention, “… I need to go…”

The three all get up and Priest motions inside as he says, “You don’t have to stay outside. All are welcome here.”

Gearing looks at him, then around at the interior of the church slowly. He stares up at the ceiling for a few long moments and then slowly shakes his head before he says, “Not me…” then slowly takes a few delicate steps backwards and away from the door frame.

Having lost sight of him, they head outside and find Gearing sitting in the middle of the road a few paces away from the building, but staring at the ground.

“What’s wrong, Charity say something to you about staying out of the buildings?” Handy asks as he frowns.

“You can go in the church, Priest is a good buck,” Swift adds. Then she chuckles as she waves a hoof around, “He won’t bite…”

“No… I just need to go…” Gearing repeats. Then he looks up at Priest and says softly, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

Priest gives him a warm smile before giving him a slow nod of acknowledgement. “It was my pleasure… and thank you for changing your mind about the bridge.” Noticing Gearing’s focus instantly jumping to the ground, and avoiding the topic, Priest asks, “Are you sure you’re feeling up to leaving? You don’t have to if you aren’t. Rest if you need it.”

Gearing shrugs and replies while still looking at the ground. “I need to get moving. Staying still is bad. I’ll get stuck. I don’t want to be stuck. So I have to get moving again.” He slowly looks up before he says, “I have a promise to keep. I can’t if I get stuck.”

Handy slowly looks Gearing’s brass form over and lets out a sigh as the strange speech pattern strikes an unpleasant cord with him. “Lodestar’s in no real rush. We can go when you’re ready.”

Gearing shakes his head quickly and replies, “Gotta go. Can’t stay or I’ll get stuck.”

Swift walks over and sits down in front of him as she stretches out a wing and gently wraps it around him. “Gearing. You don’t have to force yourself. We can go when you’re ready. You know that, right?”

Gearing slowly looks up at her, then darts his focus from one of her eyes to the next before he says in a much firmer tone. “I have to go… I need to do this, Swift. If I don’t keep moving, and stop fighting, I might get used to giving up. There’s too many counting on me for that. I’m not the fastest. I know this. But as long as I keep moving. Keep putting one hoof in front of the other. And never give in to the temptation. I know I can do it. I can keep going. I just need to keep my momentum. Or I’ll get stuck. And if I get stuck, I’ll die… And I have too much left to do to let that happen.”

“You’re devotion is commendable,” Priest says softly. “But are you going to be okay continuing on so soon?”

“Yes,” Gearing replies flatly. “The alternatives are worse.”

“So, looks like we’re heading out sooner than expected,” Swift says with a massive grin across her muzzle as she looks at Handy. She glances sideways at Gearing and asks, “When you want to head out and get started?”

“Now,” Gearing replies flatly before turning and starting to walk out of town towards a marker displaying on his EFS.

Swift looks at Priest and shrugs before taking flight. “Seems like we’re heading off now, we’ll be back later.”

Priest watches them leave, and then slowly turns his eyes towards Handy, who’s still near him, and asking, “Are you not going with them?”

Handy chuckles before he says, “Yeah, but I was just thinking how weird it is that I wished we’d be able to hurry up and just go. And… here we are, trotting off shortly after…”

Priest raises an eyebrow before asking, “Why would that be a bad thing, you got what you wished for didn’t you?”

Handy looks at him sideways and smirks before he says, “As long as it isn’t in a ‘careful what you wish for’ type of scenario, that’s fine.”

“And?”

Handy chuckles and starts following the other two before he quips, “If you knew our luck so far, you’d see the problem...”

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’🢤⭲⭧⭦🢤⭣⭲⭨.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’⮄⭧⭦⌤⎋⭾⭿.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

!!! ’⭬⭫⭭⮠⭍⮄↑→▽←🢪⭭◄⭧.⭧⭲🢤⭦’ Partitioned and Locked

69 Down the ‘Rabbit’ Hole

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing’s smaller-than-average pegasus form sits camped out in the kitchen of his family’s cloud home while sporting the latest iteration of his friends’ experimental illusionary magic. Being an early iteration, it’s not perfect by any means. There are a few tells with it that make it seem like there’s just ‘something off’ with the small dark blue pegasus. But, it’s passing enough that, unless someone was to pay extra careful attention, and/or didn’t really know him, they wouldn’t necessarily notice that something was off with the young buck. Unless he did something to give himself away like stepping on a scale or something else not designed to handle his weight. His head is adorned by his custom modified helmet, with a variety of tools magnetically sticking to the sides, or held on spidery looking mechanical limbs, and quickly at hoof as he manipulates the various frameworks holding different magnification magnifying glasses. He glances over at a book he has laid out on the kitchen table every so often as he moves around the contact probes of an ohms tester from one line of circuitry to another.

His mother sits off to the side, carefully making small stitches in some cloth as she glances over at him working every so often. After a few moments longer of silence, when he sets the ohms meter to the side again, she asks, “Gearing… I… I know you haven’t exactly been happy about what we are but…” She looks over at him, taking in the various obvious and artificial changes from what she’s used to, and asks with sadness across her face and coating her words, “Did they make you do that? As a stipulation for working there?”

Gearing glances up at her, and the whites of his eyes seem abnormally massive as he looks at her. Even without the bug eyed effect of the magnifying glasses. He shakes his head and smirks as he goes back to focusing on the partially disassembled toaster in front of himself. “No, it wasn’t required. But, they did say it was an option… And I jumped at the first chance.” He points at his face with a wing as he takes off the helmet momentarily and reveals his soft looking dark blue pelt. He blinks his blue eyes at her and points at them as he smiles with pearly white teeth. “I’ve gotten some help from some really talented unicorns. They’re working on trying to make sure the illusion works well enough…” He shrugs. “Now it’s just some light manipulating mumbo jumbo but in the future? Who knows… maybe even a cure!” He puts the helmet back on as he excitedly rocks side to side and mentally prances through the possibilities.

His mother pauses sewing long enough to reach over with a wingtip and gently caress his cheek. But, despite the way it looks, she can feel his metallic hide that’s being covered up by the illusion. She lets out a sigh as she says, “Sorry, Gearing.”

Gearing shrugs and goes back to looking at the toaster. “Not your fault. Not like you did this to us intentionally.”

His mom looks at the toaster as she asks, “So, you think you can fix it for her?”

It’s a blatant attempt at changing the subject. To avoid thinking, let alone actually talking, about all of the implications that topic could dredge up. They both know it. But likewise they are both more than willing to play along with it.

Gearing nods as he grins. “Yeah, actually! Don’t worry, I’ll help ya prove you aren’t a braggart.” He pulls out a small bag from his saddle bag and begins working with the super heated needle and long spool of metal wire he withdraws from the storage pouch. As a fine smoke drifts up from the top he blows on it gently and looks at his mother through the magnification lenses attached to his helmet. “Just have to fix this weak solder joint… No big deal. Hardest point was tracking down which one was bad.” He quickly sets the rest of his equipment down to the side as he starts putting her friend’s toaster back together. He holds it up, and depresses the button as he looks inside through the bread slots.

After a few moments it starts warming up, with a gentle glow emanating from the inside along with a considerable amount of heat, and Gearing grins as he directs his eyes over to his mom. “See! Told ya I could do it!”

She snickers as she reaches over and rustles his mane with her wing. “My clever little buck, you’re always going to make me proud!”

He grins even wider and he shamelessly enjoys the attention as she praises him.

Then the toaster pops, having apparently reached the point where it decided it was done with its cycle. Gearing closes his eyes as a collection of burnt bits of bread and unknown other filth comes flying out of the machine peppering and coating his face with the debris.

He coughs and spits off to the side as he scowls at the toaster while covered in the black sooty material. “It’s a good thing I don’t actually breathe!”

His mother sets the garment she was working on down as she laughs for a few seconds at how ridiculous he looks with his face splattered with the grime. Even more so considering the illusion covering his body isn’t hiding the dirt at all, making him look like a typical wrench monkey. In fact, the dirt actually makes him look more like a normal flesh and blood pegasus buck, and that realization just makes her laugh harder.

He rolls his eyes as he takes off his helmet and mutters, “Gee, thanks, ma… Rub it in why don’t you?”

She reaches over and wraps a wing around his neck as she leans close to him and asks softly with a sweet smile, “My little buck having a hard day?”

He shrugs as he says, “There’s so much to learn. I just don’t want to let anypony down…”

“Well, Gearing… just remember one thing.”

He looks up at her as he raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“What’s my greatest treasure?” she asks with a widening smile.

His eyes jump open wide and then he looks off to the side as he says softly, “Awww… I’m too old for that stuff…”

“What… is my greatest treasure… Gearing?” she repeats as she leans in even closer.

Gearing looks around at the table, floor, and the collection of tools. Trying to look at anything and everything except her. But, eventually, he does. He looks up at her slowly as he lets the faintest smile creep across his muzzle. “Me… I am.”

And, just like that, she leans in the rest of the way and plants a soft kiss right between the eyes on his forehead. Lingering there for a few moments before she pulls back and says as she nuzzles him, “That’s right, Gearing. You’re my greatest treasure… and nothing and no one can or will ever change that… Not bad days, not bad ponies… And certainly not this curse. You’ll always be my baby buck.”

Gearing leans into her affections and wraps his wings and forelegs around her neck as he says softly, “I love you, mom.”

She gives him an extra squeeze as she replies with a sigh, “I love you too… Now you should hurry along. I know you didn’t mean to stay here this long, and I don’t want you to get in trouble on my account.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’ve been working closer to here the last week or so. I can get back in plenty of time before it causes an issue,” he replies. Though, as he says it, he starts throwing his tools in his satchel as quickly as he can despite his reassurances that he has plenty of time. After the last item is stowed in the bag, and he’s on the way to the door clasping the bag to himself with a foreleg, his mother calls after him.

He turns to look at her and she smiles as she scrunches her shoulders towards her head. “Don’t forget to take some time for yourself, Gearing. Life is more than just about work…” She leans sideways towards the door as she smirks. “Like maybe a little marefriend? Maybe that little filly that’s been helping you with your arcane studies?”

Gearing lets out a few long retching sounds before he opens the door to leave. “Uhhhg! Mom, you’re so embarrassing!” Then he hops out the door, kicking it closed behind himself before he nose dives down through the clouds. He lazily lets gravity do most of the work as he quickly disappears from sight of the house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing, covered in an advanced illusion that’s creating his blue pelt under the general maintenance uniform he’s wearing, walks around through the cloud house where he’s spent most of his life up until recently. He ambles around a bit, looking from room to room as he’s lost in thought. It doesn’t help that he’s in such a rush and trying to outrun a deadline. As the front door opens, he hurries into his room, quickly starts grabbing a few books and other items, and tosses them into a large duffle bag he’d brought with him this time.

The bed in his room is minimalistic in design. Cloud in construction. One of the few things that’d actually hold up his weight short of some pretty serious structural reinforcement or enchantments. Though, he doesn’t normally sleep in it. And, in truth, hasn’t done so in quite some time at this point.

“Gearing?” his mother calls from the door to the kitchen.

“Yeah, in here, mom!” he replies as he sifts through a few things, then decides against taking any of them and stows them back in the shelves where they had been.

She walks into the kitchen, and notices his satchel bag laying on the kitchen table where he’d dropped it off and taken out the duffle to go gather everything else. She leans sideways as she yells through the hallway towards his room, “Are you staying long? It’s been a while!”

He trots through the hallway and sets down the duffle bag as he shakes his head. “Nope. Can’t. I’ve been directed to get down over near the coast. We’ve got a lot of trouble to deal with, and I can’t stay and chat.” He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Though he doesn’t have to stretch up nearly as much as he used to in order to do it. “Sorry, mom, maybe next time.”

He turns and heads into his old study room, sorting through the various magazines and tools and equipment as quickly as he can as she stands there bewildered at his rather direct statements and unquestionable confidence. She’s not used to the abrupt directness of it. She doesn’t know how to take this strange change in her little buck.

She looks at the duffle bag, and her eyes go even wider as she sees him put a few science magazines into it. “Wha- what are you doing?” She watches him turn around and go back into the workroom as she yells after him, “Are you moving out?!”

Gearing hangs his head as he’s coming back into the kitchen. “See, this is why I wanted to have this done before you got back…”

She looks him over for a few moments and her rear hits the cloud floor with a loud crack as her legs practically give out from under her. “So you are just moving out?! Were you even going to tell me? Ever?!” She looks at the bag on the counter and asks, “Where are you even going to be staying? Just in the office somewhere?” She narrows her eyes at him as she says, “You better be sleeping sometime, young buck!”

Gearing sits down and puts his forehooves together at his muzzle as he tries to figure out how to say what he needs to say. He looks up at her and sighs. “I have my own apartment in the company block. It isn’t much, but I need to be able to pop in and pop out without there being any delays.” He shrugs as he smiles weakly. “It’s time I have my own place, don’t you think?”

She shakes her head and then throws a hoof out at him as she yells, “You’re not even old enough to have your own place! Who even signed the lease?” She looks around and then shakes her head. “I know I certainly didn’t.”

Gearing shakes his head. “It’s a part of the company block. I’m not leasing it. It’s one of the perks of the job.”

She frowns as she says softly, “And you didn’t trust me enough to tell me this?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks around and tries to avoid looking her in the eye. “I’m on call now… There’s no telling when they are going to need me or where I’m going to have to go… They need me close in case of emergencies...”

She walks over slowly to him and says with a crack in her voice, “Gearing… I need you close…” She shakes her head. “This is way too soon. I-” *Tick* “I don’t like this…” She reaches out and gently grabs a bit of fabric from his jumpsuit as she asks, “Please… promise me-” *click* “you’ll come by?” She steps up closer to him as she tries to get some eye contact with him. “Of-” *Tick* *Click*“often enough that I can a-” *click* “actually recognize my own baby buck when he’s walking through the house… I mean… look at you now… you’re so much taller. You’re growing up way too fast for my liking.”

Gearing looks off through the door into the workshop and says softly, “I’ll try… I’ll get back as often as I can. Okay?” He shrugs weakly then pulls away and heads back into the workshop as he says, “That’s all I can promise…”

She sits there hanging her head for a few moments as she hears him rattling through one storage box after another in his workshop. This is hard to process for her as she shivers lightly and tries to control herself. A glint of metal reflecting off the refracted light from her own crystalline wings draws her eye towards his satchel. She leans in closer to it, and then glances at the door to the workshop quickly, before she moves the bit of fabric out of the way to get a better look at whatever it is.

And uncovers a modified mouth grip.

“Gearing!” She yells at the top of her lungs. “Gearing!”

Gearing quickly walks back into the kitchen from the workroom and his eyes go from looking at her, to jumping over to the pistol she’s holding aloft with a wing like it's a dirty diaper.

She shakes it in the air as she asks with a rather shrill voice. “Gearing! What is this!”

Gearing slowly walks forward as he sighs and unceremoniously tosses the pile he was just sorting through into the duffle bag. He starts closing it up as he says, “That is a… ten millimeter semiautomatic pistol… it’s a modified variant called a ShowStopper.”

She waves it around with her wing as she stares at him and practically screeches, “This is a gun!”

Gearing narrows his eyes at her and says flatly, “I’m aware of that, mom… Watch where you’re pointing that thing, would you?”

She stretches out her wing and holds the pistol sideways with it as she asks, “What are you doing with a gun?!”

Gearing finishes closing the duffle bag as he looks at her and shrugs. “We’re at war, mom…”

She rolls her eyes with such gusto that the motion carries all the way down to her shoulders, fully demonstrating that his sass is entirely genetic, before she comes back at him and shakes the firearm a few more times for good measure. “I know that, Gearing! But that doesn’t explain why do why-oh-YOU have a gee-you-en?!”

Gearing steps over and deftly snatches the gun from his mother. Hopping away from her the moment he has control of it as he ejects the bullet that was in the chamber in the process. He grabs his satchel that was on the kitchen table, and slips the pistol back into its hidden compartment as he says flatly, “They’re standard issue.”

She sags her shoulders as she looks around and suddenly seems lost in her own house. This doesn’t make sense to her. Her baby, a genius, is supposed to be in school learning to become the next top executive and inventor… Somepony that’s destined for greatness that would go on to help all creatures everywhere through his pure ingenuity and dedication… But the world has apparently gotten so bad that even he, a mere technician, and a young colt at that, is having to carry around a weapon. Presumably for his own protection from infiltrators or saboteurs while working.

This isn’t what she wanted for her only son. Her only child. And the growing horror on her face is plain to see. She’s so flabbergasted she can’t figure out what, if anything, to say to this sudden realization. Her clockwork brain is too busy misfiring and tripping all over itself to be able to put the puzzle pieces together for her.

Gearing quickly grabs his satchel, throws it around his neck and shoulder, and then runs out of the house with the duffle bag across his back, not even secured properly to himself first, as he says quickly, “I have to go.” As he’s jumping out through the front door he says softly, unsure if she even can hear him given her current state, “I’m sorry, mom…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The late afternoon light of Hoofington is just as dreary as it was that morning, with the moisture hanging heavily in the air. It’s always raining somewhere in Hoofington and Swift and Handy are simply glad they aren’t the ones on the receiving end of it currently as they continue on their way on their task for Lodestar.

Though while the couple have stayed relatively close to each other, keeping an eye on their surroundings while they proceed, Gearing has been noticeably ‘not like Gearing’ the whole way. He’s kept a steady pace, but it’s been barely at a trot speed. Then there’s the fact that he’s constantly heading in straight lines, only changing direction to keep from crashing into something at the last second. There’s no darting around. There’s no slinking off to the side. There’s no running ahead to clear the way. And there’s no communication. At all.

There’s only Gearing simply walking at a near casual pace in a relatively straight line towards their goal.

It’s enough to draw concern from both Handy and Swift, causing Swift to take over the majority of the task of navigating and providing lookout for the group. He’s moving, which is an improvement. But neither of them know how to help him any more than they already have. Neither of them are psychologists and Handy is self aware enough to do his best not to make matters worse, by simply not saying anything to him at all.

Although Gearing seems to be on autopilot as he’s trotting through the devastated landscape of what was once a Hoofington shopping district, he hasn’t completely checked out. Unlike their worry that he may be trying to hide away from current reality by crawling into his own psyche, he is actually processing things. But what they don’t know, what they couldn’t know, is that what he’s processing isn’t so much what he’d been through, but what has been brought up as a result of Swift’s treatment regimen. All of the questions he’d been subjected to had brought many things to the surface of his mind. It’s hard to not think about something, when you’re explicitly asked about it.

And the questions about his mother had especially been a key to unlock a rather large door. One he’d still rather have remained closed. But, what’s done is done. So now he has to confront the facts. And one of them is the fact that even in his near delirious state he’d admitted something that he’d yet to even let himself think about.

His mother. His only family. The only one to support him his entire life.

Is gone.

And, as is the case with many such situations where someone has to reevaluate their life based on new information or realizations, he can’t help but feeling a deep regret. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate her. He did. He did all he could to try and make things better for her. To repay her for all of the kindness that she gave willingly that the rest of the world couldn’t be bribed into giving him.

He’d always thought they’d have time. Later. That, one day, he could come clean with her. About everything. And he would then, finally, be able to tell her the truth and make her understand why he had to be away as much as he was. That the war would finally be brought to a close, and they could go on with enjoying their life without it looming over them every minute of every day. And that he could, and would, make up his prolonged absences to her.

But then the war did come to an end. Yet there was no victory. Only death. And all of his plans and sacrifices turned out to be a complete waste in the end. And now he has a nagging feeling over his entire body for the wasted time. If they’d won, if he brought the war to the close that he’d wanted, it would have all been worth it.

And now he’s not so sure, and he’s left with mounting regrets as he can’t help thinking through various visits he’d had with his mother. And through those moments getting to enjoy their time together in the only way he has available to him now: In memory.

Swift looks at her PipBuck as she stops walking and comments, “Okay, so it’s not terribly far away, but if the information is right, we can access the maintenance tunnels to get there by heading into Hoofington’s Green Line.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s hurry up and get to the Green Line tunnels so we can-”

“No,” Gearing abruptly cuts Handy off as he’s passing the pair at his steady trot. “We’re not going that way.”

Handy scowls as he stares at Gearing, even more so than usual as he hates being interrupted. “Why the hell not? Got a better idea?”

Gearing stares at Handy as a message he’d read plays across his mind’s eye once more.

‘…We have a while, so no rush. But we’re going to need help to get out of here and join you from your side. The side tunnels have either collapsed or been too irradiated to even joke about going through, and only a couple of the other ways even seem functional…’

“It’s a bad idea…” Gearing replies flatly as he looks down at the rubble around their hooves.

Swift looks over at him and rolls her eyes before she asks, “Could you give us a bit more information with your info?”

Gearing looks up at her, staring in silence for a few moments, before commenting quietly, “I found records of what had been happening in the various maintenance tunnels shortly after everything went belly up… It’s dangerous down in those tunnels now.”

Handy stares at him and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “What, from like, two hundred years ago? What makes you think it’s still dangerous down there?”

Gearing slowly raises a hoof and points at a building across the street. Both Swift and Handy look over and watch as the metal frame of the awning of the now abandoned bakery loosely hangs from the building’s front stonework. The metal framework gives out a low mournful tone as it moves ever so much in the wind, and threatens to fall down at any second.

“What makes you think anyone’s been doing maintenance on that area, when nothing else has been worked on?” Gearing finally says after they’ve been staring at the rusty metal skeleton of the awning. “If anything, it’s probably gotten worse…”

Swift looks back and forth between the two before she asks softly, “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough that I’m bringing it up as something to avoid…” Gearing replies in the same quiet monotone voice he’d been using all morning.

“So, you got a better idea or just going to keep playing the vague doomsayer?” Handy asks with a raised eyebrow and just the slightest hint of a smirk. Earning him a sideways elbow from Swift as she rolls her eyes.

Gearing looks at his PipBuck and starts examining the local topography. “Yes. We can use a ponyhole that takes us directly to the maintenance tunnels running under the city. They are scattered out at regular intervals, so we just have to find one near where we want to go.” After staring at and zooming around on the map he mutters, “Lets just hope the drainage flood control pumps are still active, otherwise large portions of these areas are going to be under water…”

Swift cringes as she thinks it through, and starts becoming worried as Gearing neither says anything, nor moves a single metallic hair, for several minutes. “Gearing?” she asks softly.

“I think I found a likely spot… it’s on the next block over,” Gearing suddenly says before turning and walking at an angle to walk around the abandoned bakery and start leading the way.

Handy and Swift exchange sideways looks with frowns across their muzzles before they follow. Shortly after they get past the bakery, there is a loud whining screech as the metal of the support structure finally gives up the fight and falls to the ground. The pair runs away, fleeing the growing dust cloud as they look behind themselves and make sure nothing else is going to fall down. Or, if it does, that it’s not going to come slinging in their direction.

“This whole city’s falling apart!” Handy grumps as he gallops along.

“I think that was Gearing’s point,” Swift says with a laugh before jumping up and kicking her hoof out to bat away a small piece of brick that had managed to catch up to them and was dead set on hitting Handy in the back of the head.

When they catch up to where Gearing has apparently stopped, they look around as they try to figure out what the metallic buck is trying to do now. Gearing starts criss crossing the street, looking down at the ground as he brushes away dirt and debris to double check where the curbs are located. Or, whatever is left of a curb and where it was originally located in the case of a few of the more ambitious sinkholes.

As they stand there and watch, Gearing keeps finding a spot, among the landscape, then turning and making a straight line for a pile of rubble. Time after time he does this and walks to almost the same spot before going and walking off in a different direction to find another point of interest.

“Lost?” Handy asks as he looks around. It wasn’t meant as a snarky comment, but as a genuine question. Because, even with his PipBuck’s navigation, he feels thoroughly lost in this new unknown area.

Gearing clamors up the piles again, walking over a mound where half of a four story building had fallen down on itself and spilled out into the roadway. “Judging by the layout and utility lines, it should be around this area.” He stops and looks down at the crumbled pile of mortar and bricks under his hooves as he says, “I bet it's under this rubble.”

Swift looks at it and sits down as she lets out a groan. “That’ll take forever to dig up… Can’t we go find another spot?”

Gearing shakes his head as he calmly replies, “There’s nothing to say that another one won’t have the same problem. Also, this is a good sign.” He clops a metallic hoof against a bigger chunk of the rubble before he looks over at them.

Swift frowns as she stares at him and is seconds away from calling him on it before she asks, “How could this possibly be a good sign?”

Gearing looks between them before he says, “If it’s buried like this. It’s unlikely anyone else has gotten in here. So, there shouldn’t be any surprises. No traps. No tripwires. And this should insert us in really close to the data terminal so we won’t have as far to go.”

Handy raises a hoof as he grins. “If it means less things trying to blow me up, it’s got my vote.”

Swift looks at him sideways as she asks, “Even if it means we’ll be spending all night digging through bricks?”

Handy nods and grins even wider. “Yup… but… I don’t think we’ll need to…” Swift raises an eyebrow at him and he smiles at her as he asks, “Hey, Gearing, you got this?”

“Eyup.”

“Need a shovel?”

“MmmNope.”

To the startled look on Swift’s eyes, Handy motions with his chin a distance away, “You obviously haven’t seen him dig… just get out of his way…” He turns and trots away a distance, even going so far as to jumping on the far side of the metal husk of a burnt out wagon before peeking through gaps at Gearing.

Swift walks over next to Handy with her eyes narrowed so far they’re almost closed. “Okay, Handy, this is ridiculous, what are you-”

Handy reaches over, puts a hoof on the top of her head, and pushes her down as he says, “You’re gonna wanna duck more.”

Swift bats his hoof away, after being pushed more into a squatting position, but before she can make a snarky comment she looks up and asks, “What the hell is that noise? Is it hailing? I don’t feel anything?”

Handy simply grins wider and points through the rusted wagon wreck.

Swift scoots over, peeks through a hole in the wagon, and instantly her jaw drops. “What the hell?! He’s digging like a… a… dog, or a rabbit or something… I mean wow! Look at him go!”

Kra-baaanngggg.

The noise sharply increases as a chunk gets hefted away as Gearing practically bucks away the large collection of bricks that are still being held together by mortar, only for said collection to shatter into smaller pieces once it hits a delivery wagon across the street.

“Did you see the size of that one?!” Swift asks as she pulls away from the wagon enough to look around it as the pieces are still settling to the ground. She looks over at Handy as she asks with excitement covering her features. “You see him do this before?!”

“Yeah, hun. That’s why I said we needed to get out of his way,” Handy replies with a smug grin.

“So, should I add ‘Excavator’ to his list of talents?” Swift asks with a smirk.

“More like ‘Badger Impersonator’,” Handy replies with a chuckle.

“Nah, I think he looks more like a bunny the way he’s scooping with his forelegs and throwing it back between his hind legs like that,” Swift replies with a grin. “How long do you think it’s going to take-”

A loud scraping of metal on metal rings out and makes their teeth vibrate, stopping her sentence short.

“Found it!” Gearing yells out as he scrapes and scoops a few more pieces out of the hole he’s made and sends it flying through the air.

Swift and Handy come out of hiding and walk over cautiously as they stare at the wide and deep bowl that Gearing has dug into the pile of rubble. But, there, at the very base of the bowl Gearing’s carved out, sits a metal disk set into the concrete. Rusted by centuries of neglect and Hoofington’s bitchy weather. But, despite that, still doing its job of keeping the maintenance access sealed.

“Do we need anything fancy to get it open? Special tool? Passcode? Glyph marked enchanted ID card? Something else stupid that we’ll have to go and track down?” Swift asks with a frown.

“Not really, but a crowbar would help,” Gearing replies flatly as he uses a hoof and scrapes out the dirt in the grooves around the lid.

Handy is already in the process of pulling a thick crowbar from his tools before Gearing had even said anything, and flips it in the air before catching it in his right fetlock and offering its long side to Gearing with a grin. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Gearing replies as he takes it and looks closely at the lid.

Handy straightens up more as he smirks and looks at Swift.

Swift looks back and forth between the two, before waving a forehoof between them in the same motion. “Did you two set this up in advance or something? This seems almost planned.”

Handy smirks and shakes his head. “Naaaaahhh.” Swift looks back and forth before sticking her tongue out at Handy and getting a chuckle for her frustration. “So, Gearing, need some help with-” Handy starts

Klang.

“-that. No, of course you don’t. You already got it off…” Handy comments with a frown as he stares at the heavy metal hunk that was just so casually set to the side, but the impact still broke several brick fragments anyway.

They all three gather around and look down into the deep dark pit that light can’t seem to penetrate.

“So, we just hop down there, hunt around the maintenance access tunnels until we get to the right data center. Get the files we need, then get out, right?” Handy asks as he stares into the black oval between them.

“Yup,” Gearing replies flatly.

“Well, how are we going to do this?” Handy asks as he looks over at Gearing.

“Step one, Hop Down There,” Swift says with a giggle as she jumps into the air and comes back down forehooves and snoot first. “Threetwoone dibs!”

Handy reaches out to bite her tail, to try and keep her from going down further, as he yells, “We don’t know what’s down there, wait!” But he snaps his jaw just short as she disappears down the hole.

“That’s what I’m finding out!” Swift’s voice echoes back with a giggle from the darkness below.

“I didn’t hear her touch down,” Handy comments with a groan.

“She can fly, you know, so she’s probably hovering or flying around,” Gearing observes quietly.

Handy leans down towards the hole and yells down, echoing out around his own ears painfully in the process, “You okay down there?!”

“Yeah, and you don’t gotta yell, it’s not that far down!” Swift’s voice replies with annoyance covering her words. A moment later a light kicks on, out of sight from the hole but still illuminating the water at the bottom which isn’t far below ground level, maybe ten feet by Handy’s estimations, as Swift turns on her PipBuck light. “Ouuu there’s a couple ways to go down here! I wonder what’s behind this door!”

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Handy yells as he gets closer and closer to the edge and almost falls inside in the process. But Gearing sticks out a foreleg and leverages it against Handy’s chest to keep him from tumbling in head first. Handy lets out a groan as he asks, “Why’s she always gotta be like this…”

Gearing pulls Handy back and looks him in the eye blankly for a moment before he says, “Most pegasi are borderline claustrophobic, and wouldn’t just nose dive into a tight hole like that…”

Handy’s eyes shoot wide open. But before he can say anything in response, Gearing spins around and starts backing into the hole himself.

Gearing looks up at Handy from the hole and adds, “You might wanna talk to her about that,” before he continues down and disappears into the tunnel system himself.

Handy stands there at the top, blinking a few times, as he tries to put together what just happened. Gearing’s PipBuck light snapping on helps snap him out of it, before he shakes his head and looks down into the tunnel system.

“Come on down, it’s clear,” Gearing calls up before walking around in the access tunnel room.

Handy looks around then rolls his eyes as he asks, “How am I the last one down? I’ll never hear the end of this…” He whips around, hops in and quickly starts shimmying down the ladder. But, before getting close to the bottom, he slips as one of the ladder rungs tilts under his weight as it practically laughs at him.

After Handy splashes down in a chest deep hole that might as well be a cistern of nasty water considering its size and contents, Handy springs back up in the air and shrieks at the very cold water suddenly soaking him.

“Watch that last step, it’s a doozy,” Swift’s voice comes from a room off to the side. With a voice bathed in a tone of self amusement.

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

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70 Megaspell Alarm Clock

In the dim light of Gearing’s PipBuck, Handy quickly scampers the rest of the way out of the hole he’d fallen into and starts trying to shake all of the cold water off of himself. The metal plates of his armor clink and clatter against each other making a racket like some kind of mechanical teeth chattering against the cold.

As Handy is hopping around and shaking to try and get as much of the water off of himself as he can, Gearing comments, “Watch your rads. It’s not strong, but enough prolonged exposure to it can build up to problematic levels for you.”

Handy scowls at him and partially shivers and partially shakes as he says, “I already know how radiation works. Thank you very much.” But Gearing doesn’t seem to pay any mind as he’s busy off to the side of the hole looking at his PipBuck and apparently trying to get his bearings now that they’re actually in the tunnel systems. But, regardless of however much attention Gearing may be paying to it, Handy can’t ignore the slow steady ticking coming from his PipBuck.

As Handy continuously flicks and kicks one leg after another, discarding a bit of water each time, he takes a look at their surroundings for the first time. The ladder down led to the middle of some sort of four way intersection that’s widened out more than necessary to make a circular space with the ladder as its central point. Directly under the four story building that had partially collapsed, and made rubble that Gearing had to dig through just to gain access to the hatch, is a simple standard metal door. A door that’s currently open and with the tell tale dim lighting of a PipBuck pouring through the doorway. The other three directions lead away with tunnels that seem to practically go on forever. With one tunnel going perfectly parallel under the road way above, and offering the group two of their choices for which way to go. The last tunnel that shoots away from the ladder, opposite the only visible door, seems no different than the others, except it helps create the almost ‘t’ shape that they currently have to decide to deal with.

The tunnel system is boringly repetitive in its design in every direction, save the door. Along the walls, and ceiling sections, are a variety of pipes and cables. They run in every possible direction, and once upon a time helped provide the utilities and services for Hoofington in a way that kept it out of the horrid weather Hoofington was, and is, known for. But, even down here, the signs of the constant rain are clear to see.

What Handy had originally thought was a cistern that he unwillingly took a swim in its chest high water, is actually a sinkhole. One created by the constant drip of the water pouring down through the manhole above. And somewhere along the line between now and the end of the war two hundred years ago, the tunnel work decided it’d had enough neglect and abandonment and gave in to the constant weathering. Thus creating a hole in the floor that’d just kept getting bigger as dirt was washed away. The rest of the tunnel system seems to have fared better. Mostly thanks to the fact that the tunnels themselves had drainage built into their very design and have a channel molded into the bottom center of them that funnels any water that might make it down into the tunnels away to the city’s flood control pumps. The floor isn’t perfectly level because of that, with the sides having a slight gradient and a curve to direct the water flow to the central channel running the tunnels’ length. The design is simplistic, but helps explain why the majority of the tunnel system is relatively dry.

The one saving grace is that it’s clear that most of the lights are actually still functioning. Even as dim as they are. And the intersection is an outlier with its near total darkness. Though Handy can’t help grumbling about the lack of light, and wondering if the electrical system is failing given how dim all of the lights seem to be.

His mind runs through a few quick scenarios, all of which grow in horrible outcomes for them, and finds himself asking, “If the lights are this bad, and the power grid’s failing, are the computers even going to be usable?”

“What about the power grid?” Gearing asks as he looks over at Handy and away from his PipBuck.

Handy points over towards the lights set into the side of the tunnels’ walls a distance away. “The lights look like they’re about to go out, so the power grid’s going down, isn’t it?”

Gearing looks over at the lights in question and then back at Handy and replies flatly, “No, they’ve always looked like that. That’s normal.”

Handy’s eyes go wide before he asks, “Why would they have the place so damn dim?!”

“Energy conservation,” Gearing replies flatly.

“Wha? You mean this twilight hours nonsense is intentional? How is anypony expected to work down here? Why would they do this?” Handy asks indignantly.

“Handy, the tunnels stretch on for miles and miles. If they kept all of the lights on daylight bright down here, the energy consumption would be tremendous. To the point of being prohibitive. They did a bit of research to find the optimum return on investment on power usage for lights, while still being mostly usable. And this is the result. The lights are bright enough to get around without any problem. And if you need to do work, you’d most likely have to have an extra flashlight anyway. Or even set up some portable work lights. So that’s not even an argument to be made. It’s way more efficient power wise.”

“So everywhere is this dark down here?” Handy asks with a groan.

Gearing gives a single quick shake of his head. “Not at all. Areas with higher hooftraffic will have proportionally more light. Some areas are lit well enough that it’s like being in any other building. Like train stations and some of the underground work areas. They only did it this extreme for the maintenance access tunnels, since they are so rarely used.”

Handy lets out a sigh as he looks down at the concrete under his hooves and groans again. “Great, so we’ve gotta stumble around in the dark because the designers were a bunch of cheapskates…”

“Handy,” Gearing starts and, when Handy looks up at him he continues, “Just keep your PipBuck light on. And don’t get in front of me and Swift. Let us lead the way so we can warn you of anything you might not notice.”

Handy looks away and mumbles incoherently a bit before he shivers a few times and changes the subject, or tries to. “Why’s the water gotta be so damn cold…”

Gearing smiles and replies, “It’s the downside to the lack of light. The rain’s already typically cold. Add in it being down here and away from the sunlight and it’s not going to heat up any.”

Handy snorts in disgust, sending a plume of droplets from his muzzle before he turns and heads towards the open door. As Handy is getting close to the doorframe, he kicks on his own PipBuck’s light.

Swift pops up at the door, stopping him at the threshold and staring at him with a barely contained laugh held in her muzzle. She looks him over a bit before she asks, “Enjoy your trip?”

Handy smirks and rolls his eyes before he says, “Oh, yeah, you know me, I just love fall weather.”

She giggles and nods behind her as she says, “There’s some real goodies in here, you’re gonna be happy.”

“Oh?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Well there’s just one thing first,” Handy replies with a growing smile.

“What’s that?” Swift asks as she tilts her head to look at him sideways.

Handy hops forward and wraps his forelegs around her as he starts nuzzling her abrasively. “I just wanted to say I loooove you, and give you a hug!”

Swift starts struggling, although without very much heart in it, as she flops around within his grasp and tries to push him away as she giggles. “Noooo! You’re wet!”

“And cold too! Warm me up!” Handy chuckles more as he practically tries to climb over her.

“Warm yourself up! Dry off, and then warm yourself up! You’re the one that fell in water; it’s your own fault!” Swift says with a giggle as she flares out her wings, flies up a bit, and pulls away from the still dripping wet buck.

“Well misery loves company, and I looooove you, so I’m gonna get you soaking wet too!” Handy chuckles as he keeps his grip around her neck with his forehooves and doesn’t let go.

“Noooo,” Swift giggles as she playfully pushes his muzzle away with a hoof as he keeps kissing the air in her direction.

“I can’t believe I’m the one asking you two this… but do you need some alone time for a while?” Gearing asks with a grin.

Both Handy and Swift freeze in place as they stare at each other. Causing Swift to come right back down to the ground as she even stops flapping her wings. They both slowly look over at Gearing as their eyes slowly grow to their absolute widest.

“I don’t need to hear about who’s getting who wet, that’s your business, I found the way to go,” Gearing quips before he turns around and starts walking away from the doorway. A couple paces away, Gearing chuckles as he says, “My how the turns have tabled.”

Swift and Handy stare at each other for a few moments, and Handy shrugs as he grins at her. Swift’s cheeks turn just a bit on the rosy side before she pushes his muzzle away, hard this time and practically shoving him over onto his side, before she says, “Don’t gimmie that look…” She starts slowly walking away and adds, “I’m telling Sable, he’s getting cheeky.”

Handy chuckles as he starts getting up, but the growing grin on his muzzle pauses as he actually sees where they are. He calls out after Gearing as he says, “Hey, shouldn’t we empty out this maintenance room before we go?”

Gearing turns around and yells back down the tunnel from where he’d gone. “We can grab the stuff on the way out. We don’t want to get bogged down by junk in case we have to make a run for it.”

“That’s fair,” Swift says as she looks out the door. She looks over her shoulder at Handy and grins as she says, “Come on, ya perv, let’s get this over with.” Then she flicks her tail out and caresses the underside of Handy’s muzzle with her tail before trotting out and into the tunnel system.

Handy and Swift quickly catch up to Gearing down the tunnel that heads out directly across from the doorway. As they are getting close to him, Handy asks, “Think there’s going to be a spot up here where we can stop for a bit and I can dry off my clothes?”

Gearing slowly keeps sweeping his gaze and attention around their surroundings as they walk down the tunnel and replies, “Once we find the terminals you can work on that after I start working on getting into the system. There’s no telling how long that’s going to take. Let alone the download afterwards.”

Handy starts trotting a little faster, and starts overtaking Gearing, as he says, “Well, let’s hurry up and get there, so I can get out of these wet clothes.”

The three pick up speed and continue heading down the maintenance tunnel. Every now and then they come across another intersection as they travel. Sometimes a split off that goes to the right. Sometimes to the left. Sometimes it’s another four way intersection, complete with another ladder up. But each time Gearing stays the course and keeps going forward.

Annoyingly, for all concerned, a few red dots appear on their EFSs sporadically along the way. The vast majority of them seem to be coming from beings above them, at street level or higher. Sometimes in concerning sized groups. Other times it’s just singles. There are other markers too that show up, somecreature just minding its own business here and there, but those don’t even make them slow as whoever it is isn’t even a concern judging by their marker color. But, in a couple cases, the red indicators turn out to be in the tunnel system with them. And the ones that are directly in their path are quickly dispatched without any real difficulty. However they still cause a lot of annoyance. After all, mentally preparing yourself for some massive mutated beast, or group of them, only to be confronted by a solitary over sized roach is on its own level of mind job. Then there were the large tubular shaped creatures the size of their foreleg that, once they were killed, their PipBucks identified the corpse as Giant Leech Meat and, after that, their collective disgust level increased to tragic proportions.

Despite all of the distractions they make decent time to the next step that Gearing is leading them to. Although even he ends up stopping to look at the map on his PipBuck to give it some consideration when the tunnel runs smack into a set of elevator doors at the intersection where another tunnel runs perpendicular to the one they just emerged from.

Swift looks over the large set of doors for the elevator as she asks, “Hey, Gearing, Mr. Insider Information… What’s with the large elevator down here? It’s not like you can get any of this sized stuff to the surface through these tunnels. Ponyholes aren’t big enough.”

“Service elevator for the maintenance techs,” Handy chimes in before Gearing can. “So they can move around equipment down here to where it needs to go.” He waves a hoof back and forth along the tunnel running perpendicular to the elevator face. “Tunnels are more than wide enough for a push cart or small pull wagon.”

“And there’s more elevators around, some of which actually do go to the surface level, or higher. This can let you rapidly get materials to where you need without having to deal with whatever’s going on on the surface,” Gearing adds.

“Out of sight, you mean?” Swift asks as she looks at Gearing sideways.

Gearing shrugs. “That’s part of it. But also allows for rapid response during or after an attack. Anything from emergency repairs to a way to get into areas for search and rescue. If something happened and a train tunnel collapsed, the maintenance tunnels are likely the only way responders could get to the victims.”

“So I suppose they have a lot of goodies down in the tunnels, stored for easy use?” Swift asks with a raised eyebrow.

Handy looks over at her and starts narrowing his eyes as he starts quietly trying to clear his throat enough to get her attention.

Gearing stares at her for a few moments, as he can see where the conversation is heading. After the silence drags on long enough that Handy’s ridiculous throat clearing starts sounding like an engine revving in the tight confines of the tunnel, Gearing says softly, “Not as much as what’s available inside the Core, if that’s what you were actually wondering.”

Handy lets out a groan and hangs his head as his attempts at changing the topic failing have left him more than a bit frustrated.

“Is it really worth getting killed in the process?” Swift asks as she stares straight at Gearing.

“Swift…” Handy’s voice practically begs.

“I have no intention of dying anytime soon,” Gearing replies. But does so in a cryptic tone that is more in line with the way Swift is used to with Gearing’s guarded replies.

“Like the bridge?” Swift asks as she narrows her eyes.

“Swift, that’s enough!” Handy belts out. The other two look over at him and he asks as he looks between the two, “Since when have the rolls got reversed here?!”

“Swift, I’m not taking us into the Core. I’m heading in the straightest way possible to where the computer systems that house the data are supposed to be at. If I was intentionally going anywhere dangerous, I’d warn you two about it. And, probably, ask you to stay behind. Though, I’m sure you wouldn’t listen to the advice. You have the right to know what we’re getting into, and I’m not going to drag someone else into the muck with me and keep them blind,” Gearing replies in a nearly insulted tone. “That’s the entire reason I said we should skip the Green Line tunnels.”

Swift walks over, getting face to face with Gearing as she starts looking him over and sizing him up. “Is that so?”

“Unquestionably,” Gearing says as he snorts and narrows his eyes at her.

“So we’re not just going to run in and loot the place and get out of there?” Swift asks as she tilts her head.

“We can grab whatever we want on the way out. But not until then. There’s no telling what kind of security is still active. And if we accidentally trip something, we’re going to have to make billy goat big steps out of there. So we need to hold off, get the most important thing first, the data, then we can take risks getting whatever other frosting on top of that cake you want. On the way out,” Gearing replies with a huff.

“And what was the deal with that maintenance storage room we first saw?” Swift asks as she narrows one eye at him suspiciously.

“That was a local deposit. It just has a lot of the most common materials that technicians need in order to do their jobs. Fasteners. Adhesives. Spools of wire. Pipe. Couplings. And a few specialized tools that don’t get used too often. That way the techs can just go in, get what they need, and use that instead of having to carry around a lot. It was a shared depot for all of the techs that had to work in the sector.” He waves a hoof as he rolls his eyes. “There are a bunch of them scattered throughout Hoofington. Some of which are in areas that are so minor and small by comparison that the ‘depot’ is little more than a workbench with a couple shelves.” He shrugs as he says, “Any time something ran low, a tech could put in a requisition form to get it restocked. But, generally, they had maintenance bots patrol around, take inventory, and replace anything that’d gotten too low. Some places they’d only go by once a month, in other places it’d be every few days. It all just depends on how much stuff would regularly get used out of them. That one we were just at was one of the particularly bigger ones, that’s all. It’s going to have a lot of common supplies that we could certainly use, but nothing particularly pricey.” He snorts as he narrows his eyes at her and comments flatly, “I don’t see what’s so important about it or why you seem so worried about it.”

“It’s not,” Swift replies flatly.

“Then what’s with the interrogation?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow at her.

A smile slowly breaks across her muzzle before she reaches up with a forehoof, and gives him an abrasive rustling of his metallic mane. “Just wanted to make sure you’re starting to think clearly again. You sneaky little shit.” Gearing’s eyes go wide, and he doesn’t move as the two lock eyes. After a few moments of that, with Gearing’s focus noticeably jumping from one of her eyes to the other Swift asks, “Feeling better now?”

Gearing gently reaches up, and pushes her hoof away from his head as he avoids eye contact and mumbles, “Yeah… I’m fine…”

“Somehow I still don’t entirely believe it,” Swift replies with a frown.

“Well, then, I’m not ‘fine’ as in ‘fine’, I’m ‘fine’ as in ‘you don’t have to worry about me right now’… I’ll be fine, once we’re done with all of this and can finally get back and away from any problematic bodies of water… That sound more believable?” Gearing asks with a smirk.

“I’ll buy that,” Swift replies with a grin.

“Hey, if you two are done doing whatever you’re doing… I got some bad news,” Handy replies as he’s looking over the controls of the elevator.

“What’s that?” Gearing asks as he trots over to join him.

Handy points at the elevator as he looks at Swift. “It’s out of order. And it doesn’t simply seem to be a matter of power loss. The switch is getting power, but it’s doing nothing.”

Gearing heads over to the door and starts using his tools to wedge into the gap between the two doors. “Lemmie see what we’re dealing with.” A few moments later the door parts enough for him to get the edge of his forehoof in between, and he brings up his opposite hindleg hoof and wedges it in under his forehoof, and then he straightens out and quickly shoves the doors open with the same motion. Which, as far as the doors are considered, is a massive violation of protocol and they squeal and scream their objections with metallic scraping the whole way. After the door is open, and shows no sign of trying to close back again. Gearing looks straight in, and then leans in and looks down into the elevator as he says, “So… that’s what we’re dealing with.

Handy and Swift comment, “What?” in unison before hopping over and getting on either side of Gearing to see what he’s talking about.

“Where the hell is the elevator?” Swift asks as her eyes bug out at the darkness below.

Gearing points a hoof down as he says, “Down there somewhere… Looks like the cables broke, and the safeties gave out a long time ago.”

Handy looks at him and asks, “How can you tell that? I can’t even see the elevator?” They both look at him and he scowls as he says, “And don’t give me no shit about my eyesight this time!”

Gearing snickers and shakes his head before pointing straight ahead. “The cables are wrong. There’s at least one entirely missing, and their position is wrong along with not seeming to have any real tension on them beyond their own weight. The elevator probably dropped when the bombs were going off. Damage looks old.”

“How do we get down?” Handy asks as he looks down into the void again.

“We could just jump down,” Swift offers.

“I have no idea how far down that is,” Gearing replies as he groans lightly.

“Well, with the PipBuck light on we could just drop and if it’s too far, or we see the bottom, we can just fly and hover the rest of the way down.”

“You can try that, I’m certainly not,” Gearing quips.

“Why’s that? Not so sure about your reflexes being fast enough to do it?” Swift asks with a grin.

Gearing stares at her for a moment before saying flatly, “If it’s got water in the shaft, and I hit that before I can stop, I’ll sink straight to the bottom in an instant. At least you can climb up enough to fly out since you won’t just automatically sink.”

“Oh…” Swift’s eyes go wide before she lowers her head and looks back over the lip of the elevator shaft. “Sorry.” They all stare down into the shaft for a few moments before she asks, “Want me to scout it out first for us?”

“If you would, yes please…” Gearing admits quietly. He looks over at her and gives a sheepish smile. “But, please hover down the whole way. You might be fine. And you might not sink in water like I do. But if it’s highly irradiated it can be just as dangerous.”

“What makes you think there’s even water down there?” Handy asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Because now he’s back to thinking of what might happen, instead of getting stuck on what’s right in front of him,” Swift replies with a grin. “Right, Gearing?”

Gearing smirks as he looks at her for a moment. “Yeah… but it ain’t paranoia if they’re really out to get ya.” Gearing gives a full body shiver before he says quietly, “Get reamed often enough by ’em and you start anticipating the horn…”

“Yeaaaah… the fates suck,” Handy mutters as he looks down the dark elevator shaft.

“Them too,” Gearing says flatly.

Handy raises an eyebrow and looks at Gearing sideways as Swift quips, “Whatever, I don’t believe in fate.” Then she jumps into the darkness and flies straight down the elevator shaft. The only light in the vast void is her PipBuck as she travels down and quickly grows smaller. As she’s getting away she grumbles quietly, but given the closeness of the elevator shaft it’s enough for it to echo up towards Gearing and Handy, “I get to choose what I do or don’t do, so fuck the fates and my dads... Assholes…”

As the light from Swift’s PipBuck turns into a practical twinkling star from being so far away, Handy comments, “That… is a long way down…”

“I doubt it goes all the way to the lowest point… but it could easily be ten or twenty stories or more straight down,” Gearing replies quietly.

“Long way to fall,” Handy mutters.

“It’s not the fall that’ll kill you,” Gearing replies. And when Handy looks over at him Gearing’s lip raises slightly as he adds, “It’s the sudden stop.”

Swift returns a moment later, zipping straight up from out of the darkness and stops in front of them, hovering over the empty elevator shaft, as she comments, “Okay, that’s a long way down.”

“You don’t say,” Handy says with a smirk, causing a grin to cross Gearing’s muzzle as well.

“What’s down there? Find the elevator?” Gearing asks as Handy keeps peeking over the lip of the floor and down into the elevator shaft as if he might actually see something this time.

Swift points down with a forehoof as she nods. “Yeah. Just like you said, it crashed into the bottom. Looks like it’s mostly intact, just warped out of shape mainly.” She looks around as she mutters, “Weird there’s not more elevator doors though… I’m guessing the elevator is blocking the other one.”

Handy nods as he looks down. “Express elevator. Probably not very many stops.” He looks up and nods as he adds, “Yeah, wasn’t meant to be used a whole lot.” He looks between them as he asks, “So, how are we getting down?”

Gearing looks between him and Swift and a mischievous smile crosses his muzzle. “Well, as you both pointed out, the elevator’s out at the moment. So our only real option is flying down.”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he takes a few steps back away from the shaft as he stutters, “B-b- but I can’t fly!”

Gearing looks between them and chuckles as he jumps over the edge and into the shaft without even opening his wings. “Not alone…” As he starts dropping out of sight, with his wings still closed at his side, he adds, “I’ll go see about getting the door open while you two sort out how Handy’s going to be joining us.”

Swift snickers and the bickering between Swift and Handy starts up before Gearing’s even out of earshot. He judges the distance down based on how long it took Swift to make the return trip. When he thinks he’s about half way down he goes ahead and slows his dissent by opening his wings and begins fluttering down with controlled spills of air. But his calculations were a bit off as it becomes very apparent that Swift had returned at a much higher speed than she’d originally left.

Eventually he finds the wayward elevator wreck, sitting tilted at a slight angle. A tell tale sign that either it crushed something under it, or that part of it had actually buckled in. It doesn’t take him long to find the roof hatch to the elevator and get it open. He shines the light of his PipBuck into the elevator, wanting a better view of the damage and destruction so he can figure out what he needs to do. Instead he uncovers more than he’d bargained for.

Inside the elevator car a group of pony skeletons lay scattered around where they had fallen. One of the ponies has a completely crushed skull, from apparently hitting the floor of the elevator when the elevator crashed. The others all likewise have serious injuries evident in their bones, and it’s easy to tell from this distance and even in this poor of lighting. Gearing slips into the elevator, curling around and flipping over so he can slowly drop himself onto an area that isn’t currently being occupied by one of the two century old remains.

All of them have broken bones of one kind or another, and several of them seem to have simply died on impact. One skeleton off to the side, however, seems to have possibly survived the impact. As they are slumped over to the side with another set of remains being held with their forelegs. The empty glass bulb sitting next to the bodies, undamaged and carefully set to the side, testifies further to the initial hunch. Gearing starts checking the bodies over, and it doesn’t take him long before he realizes that the bodies, all four of them, are members of the local maintenance detachment. Judging by the jumpsuit uniforms they all are wearing. But, despite the blood stains, small tears where bones had poked through, and age, they all look in pretty good condition.

Gearing slowly starts looking them over, and the floor of the elevator, for anything of use. Or, at the very least, if there’s any more information he can gleam from the personnel here. He feels more than a little dirty turning out the pockets of the dead like this. Someone trying to kill him and losing the bet is one thing. They wanted to roll the dice, and they lost. But these were simply hard working folks trying to do a job. He finds a variety of items in their pockets, but most of them he simply leaves where they are. Bits included. But the access card he finds in the uniform of the buck being held by the other skeleton is something that he can’t pass up.

And while he’s still carefully looking for anything of use from those remains, he notices a maintenance notebook near the buck’s head. With a blood stained pen next to it. But, judging by the way he’s sitting, and the injuries covering the body, it wasn’t this buck that’d used it last.

Gearing carefully grabs the notebook and looks it over. It’s nothing special. A simple notebook provided for making notes on repairs that were needed, parts that would need to be ordered, and anything out of the ordinary. They’re so trivial that they don’t even put any logos on them. As the information is always expected to be input into the computer system when the technician gets back to their hub. As he’s looking at it, he can’t help but notice that the notebook is actually upside down. Reversed even. So he goes ahead and opens it from the wrong side, looking at the last page first and going through it in reverse order.

And in large mouth scrawl covering the last page is an unmistakably angry message.

I hope you’re happy with yourself you lying bastard!

Gearing’s not sure what brought that on, but his mind, as it tends to do, starts running away with a variety of reasons for such declarations. And the old blood smear on the page lets Gearing know this had to have been one of the final messages written in it, and likely by the person holding the corpse.

He flips the page and quickly skims it, and after reading it, he closes his eyes and lets out a long slow sigh.

You told me we’d be all right. You said to drink that potion you had me pull out of your bag. And then I could give you the other one you had. But you only had the ONE! And you KNEW it. There wasn’t even any broken bottles in your bag. Why would you do this to me? I’d have rather died with you than sitting here with your corpse!

He can tell there’s more to the situation that’s revealed in the notebook. There’s more pages with writing. But he doesn’t have the heart to go through any more of it at the moment. He’s already read through one family’s horrors of living through the bombs. And now this mare, whoever she was, was left to die alone in an elevator car full of her coworkers. Gearing grabs a metal storage clipboard from under one of the other bodies and looks it over carefully. The rubber gasket still seems intact so he slips the notebook he’d just found into the storage area where maintenance crews normally kept their work orders, and stows it in his meager bag. He drags his eyes away from the corpses, and over to the door. And it’s there, next to the door, that he finds the collection of tools the workers had brought with them. The elevator car door is open. And is currently being held open by a pair of screw drivers. But the door to the level is still closed fast.

The lone survivor had apparently managed to get the door open. Only to find out that the elevator was more than half way below the next door. They’d tried to use a few other smaller items to help them stand on, to boost them up, but apparently they just couldn’t get the outer doors of the elevator open. They’d tried contacting someone through the emergency box, even cracking open the panels and trying to hot wire into the communication lines directly. But, even if she’d managed to get it to work, there wouldn’t have been anyone left to answer her calls for help. She’d apparently tried everything she could think of to either get out on her own, or get help from elsewhere, but still ended up stuck in here until she finally passed on.

Gearing carefully steps around the corpses and items littering the floor of the car as he climbs up the section of the elevator shaft revealed by the open elevator doors. He pulls himself up with his forehooves and stares at the door to the hallway as he tries to figure out why she couldn’t get it open. There are multiple tool markings on the doors. From both apparently crowbar scrapes and hammer blows. But the effect was minimal and did little more than loosen the rubber bumpers that keep the metal hallways doors from clanking against each other when they close. He slowly trails his eyes upwards, and leans forward even more, as he follows the seam up towards the roof of the elevator.

And the problem becomes far more clear to him in an instant.

When the elevator hit the ground it didn’t buckle evenly. The side closest to the doors apparently caved in more for some reason, and caused the elevator car to lean towards the door. Resulting in part of the edge of the elevator to cram into the door and hold it in position by a combination of friction and a piece of the elevator embedded in the sheet metal of the door.

Gearing turns sideways and digs his hooves into the rubber bumper between the outer doors one leg at a time until he’s suspended in the air, almost parallel to the floor, as he’s wedged his hooves into the gap. He starts pushing and straightening out as he had done with the door far above him not long ago. But this time it takes a bit of effort on his part, with the metal screeching and grinding as he slowly forces the door open again. The sheet metal, along with part of the roof of the elevator, whine as it mutually gouges each other under the torque being applied by Gearing pushing on the inside of the doors. His hooves leave indents in the doors where they dig into the metal and after a bit he falls down as he gets the door almost all the way open. He catches himself with his wings, swinging down and back up like a pendulum before scrambling into the hallway that the elevator tried to open up to as designed.

The hallways in this section have less of that industrial chic of the maintenance tunnels he’d just left, and have more of a clean transport tunnel feel to them. The walls, floors, and ceiling are all composed of concrete and steel. With access panels set into recesses in the wall signaling that the pipes that were on full display above are probably hidden behind the walls down here. The hallway is also exceptionally wider, such that a tank could be driven down through it without worry of scraping the paint on the grayish walls.

Gearing turns around, looks down at the corpses in the elevator car, and lets out a sigh as it dawns on him. She just wasn’t strong enough. And she didn’t have the proper tools to cut her way out. If he’d been within ear shot, he could have helped her. Or if anyone ever answered her calls they could have helped her. But nopony came. Not until it was far too late to actually matter.

As he’s looking at the dead maintenance personnel, he can’t help but feeling like he’s failed them. And as his shoulders sag he hears a long dead buck’s voice scold him.

… maintenance pony of the most ungrateful nation on this fucking planet…

Where the hell is everypony?! I know we aren’t the only ones. We can’t be.

Gearing bows his head and mutters quietly, “Sorry…”

Where the hell were you and why weren’t you doing your job while I was working double shifts doing mine?!

Gearing takes in a slow deep breath before he says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you…”

They don’t deserve this. To die this way… to hell with you, you worthless bastards.

Gearing jerks and takes a step back from the elevator in fright as he hears hooves clattering on the metal of the elevator and partially expects the maintenance crew to come back from the dead to get vengeance for his lack of helpfulness.

Instead of a squad of maintenance zomponies, Swift’s snoot pokes around the rubble of the top of the elevator car and looks at Gearing through the tiny gap between the roof of the elevator and the doorframe. “Was that you making all that noise? For sure thought you were ripping apart tanks with your bare hooves by the sound echoing up the elevator shaft,” she asks with a smirk. Although the smile falls from her face slowly before she asks, “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…”

“More like four,” Handy’s voice carries out of the elevator shaft as he eases down into the elevator car. Once inside he looks around quickly before making his way over towards Gearing and hopping up to climb out into the hallway with him. “The car wasn’t exactly empty when it fell.”

Gearing helps pull Handy up into the hallway with him, and a moment later they can hear Swift’s voice from inside the car. “Damn…” She hops up and practically pounces clear through the gap and into the hallway with them in a single bound, aided by a timely snap of her wings, before she looks at Gearing and asks, “Friends of yours?”

Gearing slowly shakes his head before he turns around and starts looking down the length of the long hallway. “No, we just met…”

“Another ridiculously long hallway?” Handy asks with a sigh as he looks down the hallway that seems almost magically created by unimaginative ponies by how repetitive it is with a pair of dim lights set high along the walls at regular intervals. All the way down. At least until the end where they can see a set of heavy security doors barring the way.

“At least we’re deep enough now that all of those red markers are gone from our EFS, so there’s that,” Swift replies with a wide grin.

“There’s also only one way to go, so that makes it an easy decision as well,” Gearing adds as he starts leading the way.

Handy looks over at Gearing and smirks as he raises an eyebrow and asks, “Since when are you the silver lining kinda buck?”

Gearing looks at Handy in the eyes as he keeps walking away for a few moments before he says, “One way in also means one way out and it’s easier to get cornered with nowhere to go…”

Handy’s smirk falls off his face as his eyes go wide. He slowly turns his head to look at Swift, who shrugs and replies with a giggle, “You asked for that one…”

As the group is approaching a set of security doors at the opposite end of the long hallway, Swift looks over her shoulder back from where they’d come from and asks, “Why have a blank hallway that’s like a hundred yards long? Bit of a waste of space, ain’t it?”

“Not if all you care about is getting from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’,” Handy replies as he starts looking over the large set of metal doors in front of them that are nearly as large as the hallway itself.

“Especially for ones that are more ‘underground tunnels’ than they are ‘hallways’. Trust me, if you’re hoping for a confusing maze of doors… we’ll run across it soon enough, I’m sure,” Gearing adds with a chuckle.

Handy starts looking over the large set of metal doors as he says, “Well this is going to take a bit to get through.” He grabs the handle and pushes on the left door, then pulls on it, but it won’t budge. “Sealed tight. Probably some sort of maglock…”

“So cut the power and get it open?” Swift offers as she watches Handy walk back and forth in front of the doors.

“That might work, unless it’s fail secure, then we might have to cut through somehow or trick the system…” Handy mutters as he paces and tries to work through the problem in front of him.

Swift looks at Handy, but spares a glance over towards Gearing as Gearing is carefully examining a security pad on the side of the wall next to the doors. “Well, this is annoying…” Handy sits down and folds his forelegs across his chest as he stares at the door and gives it some consideration, which prompts Swift to ask, “Gearing, think you can get this door open?”

“Yeah, it’ll take me a minute though,” Gearing replies flatly.

“Yeah, a minute, uh huh, with a government grade security lockdown system designed to-” Handy quips with a snort, but stops mid sentence as an affirmative beep comes from the security doors.

A green light appears above both of the doors, and Gearing’s wing stretches out and pushes the door nearest to him open.

“What the fuck?!” Handy asks with his eyes shooting wide open and jaw dropping low.

Swift zips her focus over to Gearing and narrows her eyes as she says, “Okay, ‘repair pony’ my ass. There’s no way you bypassed the system that quickly like that!”

“You’re right,” Gearing replies flatly. Then, with a smug grin, he flicks up a previously unseen-by-them access ID card and waves it side to side with his other wing before he steps into the doorway. “This let me in. Work smarter, not harder…”

“And just why do you happen to have a security pass that works here when you said yourself you didn’t work around here?” Swift asks, but the accusational tone is accompanied with a self satisfied grin as she stares at Gearing and waits for some kind of lame excuse.

Gearing stares her in the eye and slowly swings his wing around, deliberately, and points back the way they’d come using the access card. “I borrowed it from a colleague I just met who doesn’t have a use for it anymore…”

Swift’s eyes go wide and her jaw drops before she whips her head back and forth and quickly puts the pieces together. But any retort or reply is lost in a stream of gurgling and tripping over her own tongue.

Handy walks towards the door and looks at her with a sympathetic smile as he asks, “So, how’s that foot taste?” He pulls a tin can out of his saddle bag and sets it to act as a wedge to keep the door from closing all the way as he hold it open for Swift

Swift gives him a sheepish smile then crams her forehoof into her mouth and starts slobbering on it as she follows them through the security door. “Omma nomma ohm nom.” It doesn’t take her long before she pulls it out and spits off to the side. “Bleh… like dirt and that I should really avoid doing that again…” She catches up quickly to start walking along side Gearing as she says, “Hey, Handy, lookie here; your favorite: long boring hallways…”

“Oh goody,” he replies with an eye roll.

“Not entirely, there’s doors and off shoot hallways coming up that I can see already,” Gearing adds and points further ahead and to the right where a terminal is connected to the wall next to a door frame.

“I’m glad you can,” Handy replies as he swings his gaze back and forth at the mostly smooth concrete surrounding them. “At least it’s brighter down in this section.”

Finally they come up to the first door on the right, with a computer terminal set into the wall right next to it, just as Gearing had mentioned. Handy stops and looks at it as he asks, “Should we just go in through this way?”

Gearing keeps his course heading down the hallway as he comments, “The marker on my PipBuck shows it’s somewhere further down here. Let’s try to get as close as we can before we start randomly opening doors. Never know what’s in there or what we might have to deal with behind them.”

“Well, it’s on the right side of the hall, I can see that much,” Swift adds as she trots along and takes in the sights like she’s window shopping in downtown Manehatten. “Let’s just hope it’s on this level and we don’t have to go snooping up and down floors to figure out which one it’s on…” She looks back at Handy as he catches up with them and grins. “At least there’s no red markers down here!”

“No markers at all, actually,” Handy comments as he watches one door after another that they walk by. “I don’t like that.”

“Worst case scenario: there’s a whole group of cloaked hostiles down here waiting to ambush us… Or there’s a hell of a lot of security that’s powered down, so it doesn’t register, and we’re just walking through a meat grinder waiting to happen…” Gearing comments as he looks to the left and stares down a long hallway that meets up with this one but curves out of view quickly.

“And how are the cloaked attackers worse than the meat grinder option?” Handy asks as he looks at Swift, who just grins at him and shrugs indifferently.

“Because with the mob of security, we’ll see it on our EFS as soon as it’s activated and then we can actually avoid or do something about it…” Gearing comments before turning his head to look at Handy. “An invisible assassin is near impossible to get away from. Which is one reason why cloaked zebra commandos were so terrifying.”

Swift rolls her eyes and smirks as she waves it away with a forehoof. “They weren’t that big of a threat. Seriously now…”

Gearing slowly looks over at her before he narrows his eyes and says flatly, “Tell that to the kids at Littlehorn…”

Swift missteps and recoils as she literally bites her own tongue. “Ow! Oof… okay… that was dirty… but point made…”

“We’re getting closer, I can see the marker moving now that we’re all the way down here,” Handy says as he keeps his focus on the little icon hovering in front of his vision.

“Yeah, I see it too.” Swift looks in its direction, then over at Gearing before she comments, “Hey, Mr. Stable-Tec Liaison… how the hell does this thing do that?” She points through the wall towards the indicator with a forehoof as she arches a brow. “That’s always bugged me. The way you can get a marker like right where it is. But it doesn’t work for everything. Like it can tell us exactly where this terminal is that Lodestar wants us to get information from, in a place we’ve never been to before, but it can’t like, find Handy’s hammer when he’s misplaced it in the stable somewhere.”

“You or the kids hiding my tools on me isn’t ‘misplacing it’, it’s being a jerk and ‘pulling a prank on daddy’,” Handy retorts as he glances at her and smirks.

Swift grins at him as she says, “Hey, if you’re not going to play with the kids, then the kids are going to play with you.”

Gearing shakes his head and chuckles as their ongoing back and forth continues. But, after a bit longer, and Swift hopping sideways and nudging Gearing in the side to let him know she’s not going to let him get away from the question, Gearing replies, “Your guess is as good as mine about that.”

Swift leans away from his as she stares at him with suspicion oozing out of her glare. “Oh come on, seriously? You’re gonna be like that?”

Gearing looks over at her and shakes his head. “No, seriously. I don’t know.” To the pair of unamused stares he gets in response he adds, “You’re gonna have to ask Apple Bloom about that. She’s the one that invented it. I’m just a pegasus repairpony. That’s all.”

Swift wraps a foreleg over, grabs hold of Handy around his neck, and pulls him into a sideways hug as she points at him with her other foreleg and temporarily walks on just her hindlegs. “Yeah, right. Apple Bloom’s just an earth pony, not a unicorn, no magic there either, she’s got as much as you do, so don’t give me that nonsense. What’s really going on? Not willing to share company secrets even after the whole thing went belly up?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and shakes his head slowly. “Look. I know how to work on them. I can repair and rebuild them if I have the parts. I know enough about the spell matrices to use, reboot, and restart them. But I can’t make them from scratch from raw materials. And I can guarantee you Apple Bloom didn’t make the various parts from scratch all on her little ole lonesome either.” Gearing looks over at Swift as he narrows his eyes and adds, “She’s a brilliant engineer, no doubt about it. But she also had entire teams working with her and some serious support. Both her and Sweetie Belle’s sisters are ministry mares, in case you didn’t know. And even if they didn’t intend on it, that clout helped them out considerably in getting started and attracting talents. After that, success begets success…”

“So you’re going to just sit there and try and use the fact that she had a company supporting her to brush off the question?” Swift asks as she narrows her eyes right back at him.

Gearing pointedly looks in a different direction as he grumbles, “Arcane Sciences have always been my weakest subject… I’m not some damn machine with all the answers; I don’t know everything.”

Swift flinches a bit before quickly recovering and yelling, “I didn’t say you were! But how about-”

“How about why this terminal’s already open like somepony’s been through here recently?” Handy interrupts the conversation and draws both of their attention to the fact that Handy’s standing at a computer terminal, next to a door, that seems to be close to the marker they’re all following.

Gearing walks over as he’s looking at it and snips, “Because some amateur probably left it open after unlocking it…” He walks right up next to Handy and starts tapping out on the keys with his forehooves as he looks at the screen. “Yeah, whoever unlocked the computer never relocked it… this is a massive breach of security protocol…”

“Good for us?” Handy asks. Gearing hits another key on the terminal’s keyboard and looks over at the doorway as the heavy security door starts sliding out of the way, causing Handy to grin and nod as he adds, “Good for us!”

Handy starts inside but gets stopped by Gearing before he can even make it to the threshold by a solid grip on his armor.

“Me first, Handy, we don’t know what’s in there,” Gearing says flatly as he squeezes between him and the entryway and starts heading inside.

Handy takes a step back before he sighs and relents, “Yeah… you probably should.” He shakes his head as he sways side to side to see as much as he can as he comments, “Looks like a lot of terminals and computer equipment though. Some of it looks like communication stations.”

“Good eye,” Gearing comments as he very slowly looks the room over for anything that might unpleasantly surprise them.

The room is a bit bigger than it would first appear, and from Gearing’s quick look it does seem to be some sort of communications hub. The door from the hallway opens near the corner of the room, with the walls directly to their right, and across from them, being covered floor to ceiling with equipment humming and going about its own business of randomly blinking a light here and there. Another ‘L’ shape of equipment starts to Gearing’s left, at the door frame, and wraps around to meet the equipment in the opposite corner from the entry door. However, the equipment doesn’t quite make it the whole way, and it’s only about chest high along that one wall instead of going all the way up. And the reason becomes clear after looking beyond it. This room is partitioned into two parts. With the area opposite the door having a security gate that seems to be the only way into the part segmented off with thick mesh reinforced glass that runs behind the shorter line of equipment.

Gearing keeps his eyes and focus traveling around the room in slow deliberate scans as he comments, “It seems to be some sort of communications relay hub.”

Handy slowly follows Gearing in, with his ears swiveling around about as quickly as they’ll go, as he asks, “Why would there be any schematics in a relay station?”

Swift casually trots in, and heads straight towards the middle of the shorter line of equipment as she says, “Well, let’s crack it open and find out…” She taps on the keyboard a few times and then sheepishly smirks as she looks over at Gearing. “Uhm…yeah… I think this is why he suggested you do it…”

As Gearing is walking over to join Swift, Handy asks, “Well, can we hurry up and grab it and get out of here? I’m still wet and it’s cold as hell down here.”

“You’re cold because you’re wet, Handy,” Gearing comments as he slowly taps one key at a time on the computer.

“Well, either way, hurry up would ya?” Handy asks as he shivers again and his metallic armor clatters and clacks against itself like someone trying to do a drum roll on cymbals.

Gearing steps sideways and Swift pulls back and motions him towards the console as she watches from the side. After a few minutes of his hooves tap dancing across the keyboard, Gearing looks over his shoulder at Handy and comments with a sheepish smile, “This… is going to take a few minutes...”

Swift grins as she tilts her head to look at him sideways with the profile of her smirk aimed right at him. “It’s already been a ‘few minutes’, Mr. Greatest Technician Bar None.” She giggles as she asks, “What’s wrong, can’t do it?”

Handy slaps a hoof over his eyes as he groans, “Please don’t tell me we came all the way out here for nothing…”

Gearing narrows his eyes and blindly taps on the keyboard, bringing up the security back door access screen again as he says, “I can do it… it’s just going to take time.”

“How much time?” Handy asks with a frown. A split second later he takes in a sniveling snorting snuff of air through his nostrils that sounds disturbing and overly moist. “I still need to get out of these clothes and dry off.”

“I’ll be able to answer that after I’m done,” Gearing replies flatly. Handy lets out a long moaning groan as he sags his shoulders and hangs his head. Gearing looks over at Swift and nods towards the door. “How about you two go back the way we came, find an open room, and get yourself sorted. There’s bound to be something in there to help dry off and warm up. Might even find some usable salvage. Just stay away from anywhere that screams ‘High Security’… You know what I mean, right?”

Swift nods and reaches over with a wing, grabs Handy, and starts towards the door as she says, “Sure. Don’t worry. I won’t draw the attention of a bunch of murder bots… Come on, Handy, let’s go get you out of those clothes before you get sick.”

Handy grumbles as he follows along slowly, “I think it’s too late for that already.”

Swift giggles as she swats him on the flank after he makes it out the door. “Oooohh you big baby. Come on.”

After they’ve gone on their quest of finding a way to get more comfortable, and the door shuts behind them, Gearing turns his undivided attention towards the problem at hoof. His eyes dart side to side a bit as he moves to block the view from the door to the screen, using his own body. He quickly connects his PipBuck to the terminal, and starts going through his various screens.

A snarl crosses Gearing’s muzzle as his vision gets covered with a stream of code and at the end is a string of warnings he’s been seeing for a while, and, in this instance, they go from being an annoyance to genuinely pissing him off.

>Credential Matrix Unavailable.

>‘BlueMac.Cred’ Partitioned and Locked.

>No Further Entries Detected.

>No Security Keys Detected.

>Credential Matrix Refers to Entries That Do Not Exist or Have Been Removed.

>Security Bypass: Unavailable.

“I knew this was going to bite me in the ass…” Gearing growls as he appears to stare off into space, but looks at the blinking code across his vision being provided by the same spell that generates his EFS for him. He lets out an annoyed sigh as he says, “Time to do this the old fashioned way then…” He disconnects his PipBuck from the system and glances at the door out for a moment before he says quietly, “Gotta make sure to check Handy’s rads before we go. He’s been wet for a while and that ticking never stopped…”

‘And when there’s not a fucking thing else to do besides sit on a stone floor and stare at your hooves, guess what they want to do? They want to play. They want to live. So, when they found a hidey-hole behind a panel that had a small pool in it they went to town,’ a disgruntled buck’s voice snarls at Gearing from the void between time and space.

“Not now, Billiard,” Gearing groans as he drops his gaze to the floor.

‘Did I mention the water was highly contaminated? No?’

“Not now, Billiard!” Gearing yells as he looks around in the small communications relay hub.

‘Well then you’re just a dumbass for not figuring that part out yet. Because it was.’

“I’m sorry, Billiard. For you and your family…”

‘My children. My babies,’ the cracking sobbing buck’s voice moans. And before the echoing tones cease, his voice strikes up with a renewed panic to it. ‘Run. Please. Run, Annie. Run as fast as you can. Please make it.’

Sirens quietly blare in Gearing’s mind’s eye and he looks around quickly with his eyes going wide with fright. No, none of the system is alerting. Everything’s fine. Otherwise the system would show him and warn him.

And it finally dawns on him why he can’t stop thinking about those recordings. The room is most likely a doppelganger for the room Billiard had been in when the war came to its horrific end. That systems monitoring closet Billiard had been in when he was caught on record having a smutty call with his wife. Gearing walks around slowly, looking the equipment over, and lets himself recognize one system after another. It’s a relay station alright. And inside of it, it has all of the kit connected to the early warning monitoring systems one would expect or need. Or, if you were Billiard, all of the alarms you’d need in order to know the world is in the process of ending.

Which makes the high security of the room make sense.

Gearing’s eyes settle on a phone set into one of the terminals, and he slowly walks over to it. He knows Billiard’s group was in the Manehatten branch. Far far away. But, this bit of something to touch somehow helps him. He reaches out with a hoof and slowly pats on the phone receiver as he imagines Billiard setting it back on the hook as he desperately tapped out messages to his friends to try and save as many as he could.

With the realization managing to climb itself out of Gearing’s subconscious, and to the forefront of Gearing’s thoughts, the haunting alarms and Billiard’s traumatized voice fade from Gearing’s ears. The simple act of acknowledging it seemingly being enough to quiet it and give Gearing some peace in order to work.

And work he does as he attacks the keyboard with a fervor that would make a programmer getting paid by the job, instead of by the hour, proud.

Even so it takes several repeated attempts until he finally sees a deeply gratifying message appear across the screen.

>Access Granted

And as deeply satisfying as it is to figure it out finally, to solve this digital puzzle, it’s no wonder it took him so long when the password turned out to be some alpha-numeric monstrosity twenty characters long in a language that he hasn’t even come across yet. At least that’s how it looked.

By the time he finally gets in, some time has passed, and he realizes he has a couple messages from Swift and Handy updating him on their own progress. They were all sent as low priority so he wasn’t bothered while he was working, so he’s not particularly concerned. They’d found a room to hole up in, had locked themselves in, and were going to just dry off and then rest up in there until Gearing was finished.

After sending them a quick update on his own progress, including the unfortunate news that, judging by what he’s seeing in the system, it’s going to take a while to get everything they need, he gets back to sorting through the various subsections available through this terminal’s access.

Although it doesn’t take him long to make a very important discovery, and it causes him to start giggling.

Somehow, somewhere, someone made some kind of deal to use the government relay system to handle the backups of their data and information. What Gearing realizes is that this isn’t some data repository. It simply has access to multiple information repositories in order to transfer whatever the user wants to its destination. Whether Lodestar had actually realized it or not, what he’d stumbled across wasn’t simply the location of schematics sent from some random manufacturing company.

Because of the way this is set up, and the high level access required by this equipment, what it is, is a backdoor into data streams. Lodestar was right, in that he’d found a way to get into a repository of schematics. Sort of. What it really is, is a connection point giving them access to where the backups are being stored. And, in truth, it’s far more than just schematics.

Gearing randomly pulls one file after another up, and when he finds an actual schematic, and not just another report some from poor sod that simply reported on his report on some other report that he failed to submit on time had to do, he goes over the diagrams with a keen eye. And, the excitement starts welling up in him rapidly. Although, it quickly gets tempered as a realization dawns on him.

These documents and files are the original schematics. They are probably a duplicate of the master set that were being stored for long term usage. With this, and a bit of technical know-how, and the right supplies and equipment, namely a shop capable of high speed machining, they would be able to manufacture weapons to the exact specifications from during the war. There’s no guesswork. Everything has been included in the mechanical dossier. Including acceptable and unacceptable tolerances. For absolutely every single part.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head crawls up through a mind cloud and pokes its head up just enough to peek out at what’s happening. Deep diving into the information has drawn its attention enough that it slowly crawls out a bit more and comments, ‘Uhm… with this… we’ll be able to crank them out once we get into the Core and get access to the factories… Even if the systems are down, we can reprogram the entire procedure using these schematics…’

Gearing lets out a snort of self amusement as he nods in acknowledgement to the thought. “Yes, once I’m in I’ll have all of the facilities at my disposal… especially the robotics assembly.” Gearing’s muzzle cracks into an unsavory grin as he mutters, “Let’s see the fucking raiders try and eat a horde of fresh sentry bots…”

The little blue pegasus hops out of the cloud and sits on its edge as it starts waving around a long flag with a group of repair bots charging across its surface fixing everything in sight. ‘And then we can have the maintenance drones cleaning up. Raw materials might be a problem for a while, but we can use the rubble to rebuild homes and buildings all over. Won’t be as many buildings, but they’ll be better for sure!’

“And once basic needs for survival and safety start being easier to maintain with the added help… it’ll be easier to work together and come together. Others won’t be competition,” Gearing mutters as he momentarily pauses.

‘A sense of belonging and love is also important to health, and for a society as a whole to stay and grow…’ the little blue pesasus comments.

“Yeah,” Gearing mutters as his mind starts zipping through another set of possibilities.

The little blue pegasus flips up, flops out lazily onto its back on a mind cloud, and holds a book over its face with his forehooves as he shoves his snoot into its pages and giggles. ‘And folks kept saying studying psychology was going to be pointless…’

“Yeah,” Gearing says flatly.

There’s a few moment delay before the little pegasus comments, with it’s muzzle still in the book, ‘You know as well as I do what we need to do.’

“I can’t just give this all to Lodestar without going through it first,” Gearing mutters as he starts going through one file after another as quickly as he can to try and see what they all are.

‘And we need to get in,’ his mental companion retorts.

Gearing snarls as he says, “And figure out who changed the damned white list.”

The little blue pegasus jumps up, flicks the book off into the void, and starts stomping around and flailing his limbs as he starts screaming in an irate rage. ‘Yeah! What the fuck was that all about!? How the hell did they even find that hidden subsystem to change the white list, let alone having the clearance to change it!’

“It had to be someone on the inside,” Gearing mutters as his eyes jump over towards the only door to the room. “That’s the only thing I can think of. I made a point of being plainly identifiable and got rid of the cloak so the system would recognize me as I approached. But it didn’t. And that’s concerning. Did they wipe the whole list or something?”

‘More likely they have some kind of override and not letting anyone in,’ the little blue pegasus comments reasonably.

“If that’s the case then maybe I can punch a hole in the system enough to get me through…” Gearing mutters as he slowly looks down at the floor.

The little blue pegasus starts marching back and forth as it rattles on. ‘Shadow Bolt tower’s high enough that we can go in there and come in from the top. It wouldn’t be the first time we had to. Especially with the air and cold issues that made it such a bitch for most other ponies to do any maintenance or installations. Once we’re at ground level we’d be inside the defensive net so it wouldn’t be as hard… Except…’

“Except for the fucking lightening generator rods… Handy was right. He might not have known what it was that’d ‘fry me’ when he warned me about some kind of defense network keeping things from getting up to cloud level when he mentioned it back at the station, but I’ve seen the little fuckers poking through the bottom of the cloud layer. They’re all over the place. And my brass ass ain’t messing with the kind of voltage those are capable of. I’ll get turned into a tack welded hunk of brass in a flash and crash to the ground…” Gearing grumbles as he starts grinding a hoof into the concrete of the floor.

‘Well… there’s always option ‘B’,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments before turning and nodding towards the area on the other side of the mesh and glass security wall.

Gearing’s focus lands on the locked security door separating the two areas as the little blue pegasus keeps directing him towards it with a pair of glowing sticks like used to get used on the air force landing strips to help the incoming fliers see the ground to land safely and communicate nonverbally. “You’re right… plan ‘B’ it is…” Gearing comments flatly before he whips his attention back towards the console. “Buck it.”

Gearing quickly sets up the system to mass download the entire database that he’s currently connected to, and sets it to actively download to his PipBuck before turning and walking over towards the security door. He squats down and starts giving the lock a discerning eye as he mutters, “They already know this is going to take a while and as long as I stay within range, it should keep connected and downloading… Which leaves me free to give the system the ole reach around…”

The lock proves to be far less problematic than the computer had been, and Gearing soon finds himself cracking open the cases of one computer system after another within the confines of the partitioned area. While sitting on the floor, to have both access to the electronics under the panel, and the terminal keyboard and screen set into the equipment, Gearing begins giving his skills a thorough exercise. And in doing so he begins demonstrating to the world why a talented technician is the most dangerous thing to have around security equipment. Because as long as he has physical access to it, it’s his.

The little blue pegasus in his head prances around as it giggles, ‘Yeaaahh… that’s right… let me have all your secrets…’

By patching into one system after another as a hitchhiker, within the system’s own network, Gearing starts electronically tracing a path through and into the virtual landscape of Hoofington itself. And, more importantly, starts cybernetically drilling into the Core’s infrastructure.

As one line of code after another scrolls across the screen, giving Gearing little tidbits of information and a trail of breadcrumbs to chase after, he eagerly follows them. But, while he’s got his head covered in hanging wires and partially disassembled communication’s equipment, he loses all track of time. His entire thought process is focused on the problem at hand. Because with the way things are going, he can’t bypass any opportunities any more. And this one might be the biggest carrot he’s had dangled in front of him thus far. If he can only get into the central core for administration, he can insert a variety of backdoors to let him outright bypass security. Yeah, his normal credentials are meaningless and aren’t going to help him since they’ve started playing a messed up game of hide and seek.

But when you turn the system into your own little puppet, it’ll spit out all of the credentials you could possibly ever need that it can produce. Or at least something to fake it well enough. So it’s not a complete loss.

While digging through a segment of subdirectories and trying to figure out what they do and where they would be in relation to where he’s trying to get to, a not altogether unexpected problem pops up for him. He notices that someone, or something, has started tracing his connection back to him. He quickly switches over to one of the terminals next to him and activates the segmented spoof he’d set up just in case. It won’t stop them from finding out what room he’s in, but while they are busy fighting it and trying to figure him out, he can keep working via a separate connection entirely. It’ll buy him time. And the amount of time depends on how good the other individual is, or group at that.

He continues digging through the system, using the two systems in tandem, and the grin on his muzzle just gets wider when he realizes that, yes, he’s in. He’s definitely inside the architecture of the Core. Now he just needs to locate the databases he needs and he can insert himself in some nice toys to get around the security in certain areas.

But then the unexpected happens when the second terminal that he’d been using unexpectedly clears. A moment after the screen goes dark a simple line of text pops up with the blinking cursor.

>Hello? Who’s there? _

Gearing stares at the text out of the corner of his eye as he keeps tapping away at the controls for the first one. “Shit. Didn’t last as long as I’d hoped… Maybe it’s enough though.” He narrows his eyes as he snorts. “Who the hell’s in there?” He stretches over a wing and taps out a message back.

>Hello, I’m from maintenance. _

>Where are you? _

Gearing stares at the screen for a moment as he can’t help thinking how odd that question is. He smirks as he wonders if he can play twenty questions long enough for him to do what he wants and get out again. Though, he does realize they may be doing this as a distraction as well. To slow him down and buy them time to actually find him and stop him.

>Hoofington. _

>I can’t see you. _

Gearing quickly looks around and takes note of the lack of security cameras. And grins even wider as he realizes how frustrated they must be at trying to track him down.

>I’m here. _

>Where? _

>Hoofington. _

>But I can’t see you! _

>I’m here. _

>Where? _

>Hoofington. _

Gearing chuckles as he wonders how long he can keep them going with the circular conversation and logic. And as he’s tapping away, a sound he’s heard recently begins making itself known again. But this time it’s not the faint echo of a memory. This time the sirens are loud and clear. And they grow louder and clearer as the equipment in the relay station comes alive and starts screaming out a chorus of alarms and alerts. The room begins duplicating the sound that he’d heard on the recording with Billiard so clearly he starts wondering if he’s just hearing things again.

But the text on the second computer puts an end to that idea quickly.

>WHAT WAS THAT?! _

>Checking _

>Well hurry up with it already! _

Gearing hops into the first segmented room, and starts checking all of the systems. And it becomes clear that it’s not a bug in the system. Another thing that becomes clear is that his sense of Déjà vu was entirely merited.

Because the system clearly indicates there’s been a detonation. Specifically, some kind of mega spell detonation. This earns a raised eyebrow from Gearing as he starts delving into it more. And then a smile cracks across his muzzle as he realizes where the blast was.

Miramare Air Station.

A smug grin crosses his muzzle as he starts having particularly smug thoughts. He’d said he wanted to stay away from that area, because of the hazard it posed. Because of how there could have been something waiting on some poor fool to stumble across it and end them. Well, not on Gearing’s watch is he going to let his friends run into such obvious threats.

The little blue pegasus in his head floats around as he giggles and gloats, ‘I wonder if those Gunner Mercs went back on their word and went that way looking for Nahlah? Timing’s sort of about right. They could have got there, messed with something they shouldn’t have, and got blown straight to the moon.’

“Would serve them right, then,” Gearing comments with a strong nod of his head. He trots back over to the other side of the partition feeling particularly superior as he looks over the computer systems and tries to ignore the sirens.

On the screen he’d been talking to with the unknown individual there’s a string of messages.

>Are you there?

>Are you okay?

>What happened?

>Where are you?

>Answer me, I command it!

>Hello?

>Are you dead?

>You’re not allowed to die until you answer me! _

Gearing smirks and sits down before he replies back.

>I’m back. There was a megaspell detonation. _

>We’re under attack!? _

>No, I believe it was an accidental detonation. There was only one. Possibly from a containment failure. _

>We’re under attack! _

Gearing rolls his eyes and goes back to tapping on the other console. He’s getting so close. He’s almost there. He can feel it.

>W-what are you doing? _

Gearing glances at the screen the message popped up on, but doesn’t bother wasting time replying as he keeps burrowing in.

>Stop what you’re doing! I order you to cease what you are doing this instant! _

Gearing spares the screen a quick glance before his grin just starts getting wider. “So you don’t know how to stop me and are resorting to that? Fat chance…”

>You’re not supposed to be here! Stay out! Stay away from me!

Gearing rolls his eyes and says, “I’m nowhere near you, moron…”

>I can feel what you are doing, you need to stop, NOW! I order you to stop!

Gearing pauses as he looks at the screen and gives it his undivided attention. “What? ‘Feel’? What are you some kind of AI or something?” He checks the directories he’s currently delving into and starts wondering if he’s actually gotten into some area he didn’t intend on. But, no, he’s pretty sure he’s on target to the access control section.

“I know what you’re trying to do!” a mechanized mare’s voice comes through a speaker on one of the terminals.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head’s eyes go wide as it says quietly, ‘It’s taaaalking nooow… I think it heard us somehow…’

“Shit,” Gearing mutters. “Well it’s too late now, I’m already in.”

“You can’t have it!” the voice bellows in response.

Gearing looks over at the screen and scowls. “I’ll be out of your mane in a few seconds more, I swear!”

“Equestria is mine! And you’re not taking it from me, peasant!” A shrill shrieking scream comes out of the speakers.

“Almost there,” Gearing mutters as he types as fast as he can and begins uploading a few little digital toolboxes for him to use later. Gearing grins as he glances at the terminal with a smug grin, “And yell all you want to, that’s not stopping anything.”

A shrill scream answers from the speakers again with unequine tones in uninhibited rage.

Gearing’s eyes jump open to their fullest as his focus is drawn back to where he’d been working on uploading the various backdoor widgets he’d made to help him avoid the security net. His jaw drops as he reads the only text viewable on the screen now.

[Connection to Host Disrupted. Connection Lost.]

“No way…” Gearing mutters as he starts tapping out one command after another. But all in vain. Nothing responds anymore. He can’t even pull up any of the directory listings. “They… they cut the fucking hard line?!” He lets out a snort then slowly looks over at the other screen where the screaming voice had come from. “You couldn’t stop me in time, so you cut the hard line… Physically cut the cables, huh? Or did you intentionally blow a relay? As annoying as that is… I gotta admit, I’m impressed… that’s some quick thinking and some real dedication.”

“I’m going to cut up a lot more than that cable! You insufferable ungrateful little monster!” the voice screams out of the speaker. “I’m going to make you suffer for your insolence, fool!”

The tone and manner of speaking strikes a chord with Gearing that he really doesn’t like. And the little blue pegasus in his head likes it even less as it starts zipping around and waving warning flags.

Gearing heads towards the door out of the relay station as he hurries up and types out a message to Swift and Handy on his PipBuck. He opens the door to the hallway, looks at the progression marker for the download, and groans at how it’s not complete. He stands there in the open door, watching the download continue at a slow pace. He can’t even tell how much of it he’s managed to get, only the relative speed. He knows he can’t just stay there. Whoever had been screaming at him, knows exactly where he’s at. And they aren’t happy with him. In fact, they seem down right pissed with him.

“Yup, pissed. Definitely pissed,” Gearing comments as he looks to his right and sees a red marker show up within his peripheral vision. And then another. And another. And quickly the entire line starts growing across his vision as there seems to be some hostile thing in every direction of the compass. He quickly turns to the left and starts running down the hallway as fast as he can.

It doesn’t take long for him to see Swift and Handy coming out of a room, with Handy struggling to get his saddle bag back over his back. Swift looks at Gearing and gives him a cringing smile as she says, “Sorry! I didn’t think it would cause any problems just playing some game on that terminal!”

Gearing starts running by them as he yells, “Nope, wasn’t you, was what I was doing.”

Handy gets his bag on enough and starts running with Swift to catch up with Gearing as he yells, “The communications room?! Are you kidding me?!”

Gearing shakes his head and looks back at Handy. “Nope. Someone was monitoring the entire thing. They back traced it to me and apparently they aren’t very happy with me right now.”

“Heads up!” Swift yells as she jumps and takes flight.

Gearing starts turning his head back forward, and quickly drops down and tumbles to the side, away from the hallway intersection he was just crossing, as a whirling saw blade buzzes through the airspace where his head should have been. The floating maintenance bot turns all three of its eye stalks towards Gearing and brings up its welding torch. It starts spewing the torch in his direction, but with the settings modified to make a short range improvised flamethrower as it chases after Gearing.

Swift impacts into the side of it with her powerhoof. The first strike knocks one of the eye stocks entirely off the bots frame as she crashes into it from the side. The hovering bot spins around from the impact, and Swift hangs on as she starts pounding on it with one blow after another. Another maintenance bot comes from the same side hallway, and from the sounds coming from that way they all know the pair of bots aren’t alone.

Handy’s pneumatic hammer comes swinging from the side, and hits the second maintenance bot hard enough that it flies back into the concrete wall, and bounces further down the hallway. Handy glances down the hallway they were just crossing, and jumps out of the way onto the other side a moment before a chorus of laser fire comes shooting down the hallway at him. “We’ve got company! A whole lot of company!”

Swift hovers over the bot she’d been beating on, and starts tap dancing on its head with one strong hoof strike after another, powerhoof included, as she says, “Good! I need the exercise anyway!” She glances down at the robot as it’s sparking and hitting the floor. “Down! Go down you stupid thing!”

Gearing hops over, grabs the battered maintenance bot’s long limb with the saw, as it tries to slash at Swift, and yanks it out from under her. He spins around with it and chucks it at the intersection they’d just passed as he yells, “We got a lot more coming, we got to get to somewhere we can bottleneck them or we’re screwed!” The battered robot crosses the intersection, and explodes as it’s flung into the line of fire from all of the laser blasts coming blindly down that hall at anything that moves.

Swift spins around and bucks the robot that Handy had hit, sending the flying bot flying even faster into the intersection before the three start running again.

As they are stampeding down the hallway, Gearing comments, “Don’t worry, with the head start we got, we should be able to stay ahead of them no problem. We can handle a few at a time no problem!”

Swift takes to the air again and a moment later the group starts having to jump and dodge around as the protectaponies that had been shooting down the hallway had turned the corner, reestablished a line of sight with them, and began firing incessantly at them as they steadily march in their direction.

Swift’s eyes go wide as she looks under herself, back the way they’re coming from, and asks, “What the hell is that noise?!”

“What noise?!” Handy asks as he hops and stutter dances around laser fire. “The lasers? The metallic hooves of doom? Or my heart about to explode in my chest?!”

“That rumbling noise!” Swift yells.

“Oh no,” Gearing mutters. He looks over his shoulder and starts twitching his ears around in the direction they are running from before he screams, “That bitch!”

“What?! What’s wrong?!” Handy asks as he looks over at Gearing.

“You’ll see soon enough. Just run. Don’t look back. Just run!” Gearing retorts as he starts running and flapping his wings as he tries to increase his own speed.

“Who turned on the fire hose?!” Swift asks as she turns and flies sideways while looking back the way they’d come.

“I said don’t look back, damn it!” Gearing comments as he keeps running.

“What the-“ Handy starts, looks behind himself, then screams as he jumps into the air, “Water! Water?! Why water?!”

Gearing snorts before he says with a partial laugh. “What did I just say?!”

“What are we going to do!?” Handy asks as he runs as fast as he can.

Gearing turns his head and looks behind them and as soon as his head is turned enough to get a view behind himself, he activates SATS.

And his fears are instantly justified.

A group of protectaponies are in hot pursuit of them. But, being protectaponies, their ‘hot pursuit’ is relatively slow. In fact they could probably out pace them at a decent trot speed given enough time. Their laser weaponry is a problem. But their targeting systems aren’t that advanced so at a far enough distance it’s easier to dodge. And their armor is practically nonexistent. So even though that group outnumbers them, Gearing knows his group could wipe them out in short order once they got close enough. Either him or Swift could do it alone. Easily. So they aren’t that big of a threat.

But in the distance, he can see a quickly approaching column of water. Coming straight up the hallway like some kind of system flush. Which, he realizes, isn’t far from the truth. Whoever is in the system, isn’t happy he’s here. And since they couldn’t stop him directly, they are finding other ways to try and deal with him. So they have apparently shut off the flood control system, and redirected all of the water from the system to flood this entire section. They probably figure that anyone in the area would need to breathe. So that would be a good solution for most infiltrators.

Most. But not Gearing.

But Gearing has more than his own hide to worry about. He’d glanced back and watched the approaching water to give him a good estimate on the speed the water is coming at. He starts running through the math in his head. With how quickly the water is coming. Roughly how fast they themselves can travel. And how much further they have to get to the elevator shaft up.

The little blue pegasus starts writing on the air itself in front of his very eyes with a marker with the various math calculations with a solid blue ink. He does the calculations repeatedly, but, again, the results are the same.

The little blue pegasus turns and gives him a slow shake of his head before he says, ‘Can’t make it to the elevator.’

Well… there’s option ‘B’, Gearing mentally replies.

The little blue pegasus lets out a heavy sigh before snapping the cap back onto the marker and asking, ‘Buck it?’

Buck it. Gearing mentally agrees. Buck it all.

The world takes on its normal appearance as Gearing cancels SATS prematurely.

“Get to the elevator!” Gearing yells as he looks ahead to the security door that is partially propped open with the rusty tin can that Handy had left behind on their way in.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve got a wall of water coming for us, and it’s going to get us before we’re even half way there! The hallway’s too long!” Handy yells as he throws the door open for Swift to fly through. Handy looks over at Gearing as he yells, “I don’t think we’re gonna make it!”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he sees Gearing plant his forehooves, spin around, and swing around towards him. Handy has just enough time to clinch and tighten his muscles before Gearing plants a double hoofed buck right to Handy’s armored chest. But, having experienced this once before, Handy can feel Gearing’s hind hooves asking him, rather rudely, to get the hell out of the way already. Verses what Gearing’s hooves are normally capable of, it’s the most polite they can be given the situation.

Swift whips her head over, watching Handy skid across the ground past her, before she snaps it back the other direction to yell at Gearing. But the snarl falls off her muzzle as she locks eyes with Gearing at the doorway.

“You, will,” Gearing states matter-of-factly, before slamming the security door shut between them and remaining on the other side.

As Handy is picking himself up off the concrete, he groans out, “Again with the kicking across the room…”

The pair look up at the door and Swift zips towards it as she yells, “The hell, Gearing?!” Before she gets there a large pressure change in the air hits them as the door shudders and the sound of metallic banging and scraping across the metal greets her ears. Along with the unmistakable sound of a gush of water. The door buckles slightly, with the joining edges of the two doors turning red in a little semi circle. And a moment later a laser beam shoots through it and arcs wildly up towards the ceiling.

Through the small hole made by the laser, and the crack where the door had started to buckle, water starts leaking, and then pouring, into the hallway with them.

Swift zips around and flies towards Handy as she screams, “Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

Before Handy can even ask, he gets scooped up by Swift, and the two fly down the hallway as fast as her wings can take them.

“Not this flying shit again!” Handy yells as he curls up and simply tries to turn into as small of a package a grown earth pony buck can get.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Handy! Next time I see him I’m gonna kick him right in his ass!” Swift bellows as she aims right for the elevator entrance.

Handy, not having anything else to do, looks behind them then lets out a long low groan before he moans, “Swift…?”

“What is it now, Handy? I’m a little busy here!”

“Must go faster,” Handy mutters.

“What?”

“Must go faster.”

The security doors at the end of the hallway whine and groan as the pressure behind them builds up to points that they weren’t designed to handle. And that becomes painfully clear when they both buckle in more, with the one on the right twisting and opening up almost completely.

With the doors out of the way, a wall of water quickly starts making up time to greet Handy and Swift. And at the front of it is a collection of twisted metal and debris. A good portion of which looks to be very angry robots that got caught in the stream and swept up off their feet and out of the air.

Handy’s body shivers as he lets out an involuntary shriek at the sight quickly chasing after them. Then he begins chanting, “Must go faster. Must go faster. Must go faster!”

“Shut it!” Swift yells before she abruptly halts, while whipping Handy towards the gap in the elevator doors. “And get inside already!” She lands and as he’s scrambling to get into the elevator, she rears up, and bucks him right in the butt to get him in faster.

“Ow! My ass! My face! I landed on a fucking tool box! Why’s everyone gotta kick me today?!” Handy groans as he’s picking himself back up off the maintenance crew’s equipment.

Swift promptly zips in, and half helps him up, half throws him towards the roof access, as she says, “More moving, less bitching!” She hovers up and helps push him through the gap the rest of the way before jumping up and joining him.

But Handy doesn’t even get a chance to make a snide remark, because his eyes are focused on the wall of water that is about to greet them. “Swift!”

Swift grabs Handy with her forelegs, kicks off with her hind legs, and starts flapping as hard as she can as the water crashes into the elevator. The water gushes in through the small gap over the top of the elevator where it had crashed unevenly. And a split second later the water pressure sends the water shooting up at them through the elevator escape hatch creating a geyser that neither of them want any part of. Though the water rapidly filling the elevator ruins the effect as it completely consumes the geyser as well in short order.

Handy kicks on his PipBuck light as he keeps looking down while they’re climbing. “It looks like it’s slowing down.”

“Well we’re not until we’re at the next level,” Swift quips.

Swift zips in through the still open elevator door, and drops Handy before landing and sitting off to the side against the wall along the elevator as she continues to pant and try to catch her breath.

“That was a lot of water,” Handy groans as he picks himself up and walks over to look down the elevator shaft.

“Yeah,” Swift pants before she asks, “Is it still coming?”

“No, looks like it’s stopped…” Handy comments as he looks over the edge down the elevator shaft. He shakes his leg, sending a scattering of water off of himself, before he groans, “I’m all wet again… dammit I just got dry too…”

“Yeah…” Swift replies with a smirk between sucking in air. “Bet that sucks.”

“How are we going to get him out of there this time?” Handy asks as he keeps looking over the edge. After not getting any response for a few moments he looks over at Swift and nods down the elevator shaft. “I mean, I know there’s no silt to get stuck in this time… but the water’s pretty deep… and he can’t swim.”

Swift lays back against the wall in a seated position on her haunches before she slams her head backwards and bangs the back of her head against the wall. “Fuck! Dammit, Gearing!”

“It’s gonna take a lot of chain and rope to reach that far down,” Handy mutters as he goes back to looking down the elevator shaft.

Swift bangs her head against the wall again before she flails her forelegs out in front of herself as if she’s trying to pummel the air itself. “His ass, my hoof, I swear! I’m tired of him pulling this shit!”

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

Unknown Index Reference. . .

Please Stand By. . .

71 H2 Oh NO!

The last protectapony of the group fires its laser at Gearing as it tries to steady itself in the now completely flooded hallway as the stream of water pushes against all of them. But the shot doesn’t dissuade Gearing from his attack, as he angles one of his wings and redirects the deadly beam of light in another, more harmless, direction. Little bubbles come from where the water is instantly heated into steam as it travels and begins adding another scorch line into the wall plating in this segment of the hallway. And Gearing keeps his wing positioned to redirect the fire from the protectapony’s weapon until the laser finally stops firing.

Which only happens once Gearing finishes wrenching the automaton’s head off of its shoulders with his forelegs by twisting it off like a Sparkle Cola’s bottle cap.

Gearing stares into the robot’s optical sensors as the lights go out, and when it’s finally gone dark he drops it to the side indifferently and continues down the hallway. Bubbles form along the surface of several of the crystals of Gearing’s wings, some generating them faster than others, as the heat caused by the recent fight dissipates into the surrounding water.

Sound carries in a strange way underwater, warping it yet making it carry further, and it just makes matters worse for him. He’s not happy about being down here. Underwater. But each slow step that he takes reminds him that he’s actually in a hallway. And not walking across the muddy bottom of some body of water. He tries to put out of his mind the fact that he’s entirely submerged. Logically he knows that he’s not at the river again. Nor anywhere else where he could get stuck into perpetuity. He’s on solid ground. Walking on steel reinforced concrete. A material so sturdy that it can even support his weight, in its entirety, even without his implant. He just happens to be doing so while underwater.

But it doesn’t stop that nagging fear on the edges of his mind that cautions against each and every step. He can’t help himself. So step by step he taps on the floor, testing its strength, and then adding more pressure to it slowly before he actually commits. With each and every single hoof step. So his advance to the elevator is even slower than it would be normally. Because of his own fear induced paranoia.

At the elevator door, he notices that the way is blocked by the corpses of all of the robots he’d already eliminated and got swept down this way. He starts grabbing them and chucking them to the side, causing the strange pinging noise that always accompanies metal hitting stone underwater. After a few of the bodies are moved, one of the protectaponies at the bottom of the pile shifts and turns its head towards him. As the focus for its weapon begins to glow, Gearing gives a swift stomp downwards with a hind leg, while still holding another’s corpse aloft, and stares as the lights dim and blink their last blink finally.

Gearing grumbles and bubbles his irritation. There are so many hostiles in the tunnels now, that every direction is just a wall of red as he looks at his EFS. And it’s hard for him to figure out what’s close and what’s not. He unceremoniously chucks the last few metal husks out of the way and climbs into the elevator car again. He hops up and down a few times, just barely missing the elevator escape hatch in the roof with each attempt. And after his third failed attempt, he sits down and starts bubbling a string of obscenities at the hatch for apparently growing out of his reach. After giving it a rather rude combination of gestures using his forehooves and wing, he starts piling up tools and equipment that the maintenance crew had in the car with them, along with some of the robotic corpses. After getting a sufficiently high stack, he hops on it, then hops up and grabs the elevator hatch. He pulls himself up onto the roof and quickly starts looking around in the actual elevator shaft.

Gearing’s PipBuck light swings back and forth until he’s covered the entire roof, repeatedly. Then he starts looking up. He trails his eyes over the elevator shaft, carefully eyeballing it, as he tries to find what he’s looking for.

You gotta be shitting me! He mentally swears at the universe.

The little blue pegasus in his head pokes its snoot out of the safety of its steam chest just enough to meekly remind him, ‘The cables snapped, remember? They stopped a ways up there…’

Gearing walks around the perimeter of the elevator looking at the walls, and trying to grab any of it, before realizing that the shaft is basically perfectly smooth all the way up. With nothing to hold onto. Even the rails are too far apart for him to try and wedge himself between them to climb up that way. And the corners just aren’t an option with how far up he has to go. That’s simply too far to go to risk falling especially when he’s already soaking wet and he’s pretty much guaranteed to fall. Traction is important for shear wall free climbing.

After sitting and staring at the walls of the elevator shaft for a few moments, and realizing that there’s no way on Equs he’s going to be able to climb this sheer pony-made cliff wall by himself, with nothing to help him, he does the only thing he can do at the moment.

Which is throwing a completely undignified and foalish tantrum as he flops back onto the elevator’s roof and just starts screaming at the top of his lungs at, and into, the abyss while wildly rolling back and forth and flailing his limbs about with no real aim to it. Though any noise he makes in the process is warped, by the water filling the elevator shaft he’s in, into a weird reverberating deep echo.

The glow from his PipBunk seems to flash like a club’s strobe light as his legs flail around. All of the thrashing about generates even more bubbles that twinkle in the glow of the light as they slowly do what he can’t: ascend to the surface.

After yelling at the universe and telling it exactly what he thinks of it, he dejectedly sits up and slowly looks around at the flooded elevator shaft around himself.

This would be an absolutely amazing time for a friendly aquatic creature to give me a lift…

‘Like a sea serpent or an octopus even… it could just grab us and just suction cup its way up the walls with its other limbs… At least enough to get us out of the water,’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he starts climbing the walls of his mind with hoof mounted suction cups.

That’d be great. Gearing mentally sighs.

‘Fantastic even!’ the little pegasus agrees.

They both sit staring at nothing in particular for a few more moments before Gearing mentally scolds himself, Right… shitting and wishing and all of that… I’m just wasting time waiting for something that’s never gonna happen.

After giving up on the universe giving him a break, and for something ‘miraculous’ to happen, Gearing taps out a message to Handy and Swift on his PipBuck.

[I’m fine. I’ll find another way out, we’ll group up later.]

He doesn’t even wait for a reply before he turns around and heads back through the crushed elevator and into the hallway. In truth, he doesn’t even know if they are within range. The water’s filled up so much of the elevator shaft, and it’s so dark beyond that, that he can’t even see where the waterline is. Assuming it didn’t just keep filling up until the upper areas were full as well. And if that was the case, for Swift and Handy to have had any chance they would have had to keep going until they hit street level again.

As he’s walking down the flooded hallway with one strange sounding hoof step at a time, he takes note that the water pressure seems to have finally stabilized. It’s not pushing against him, nor is it pushing the debris in the hallway anymore. And, given the water had come from a distance, the hallway is now littered with far more debris than it was originally. And not simply the smashed and crushed remains of the robots that’d come after them.

When he reaches the bent inwards security doors, he carefully walks over them instead of hopping over them. If he wasn’t submerged in water, he’d probably just flutter over them for good measure. But with the hallways being flooded, he doesn’t trust any of the ground any more. As he’s coming back down the other side he starts walking over the twisted remains of a few of the robots that he’d had to deal with while the door was closed and still holding. His gaze falls on one, and he keeps staring at it as he’s stepping over the protectapony corpse.

Gearing gives an annoyed snort, causing bubbles to come out of his nostrils, before he stomps down with a hindhoof and crushes the bot’s head. And then a few more rapid kicks for good measure. That one particularly annoyed him as it had shot its laser at him constantly while he was fighting one of the hovering bots. He’d directed the beam away from himself with the crystal from his wing, so it wasn’t particularly dangerous. But given how he’d had to fight all the others at the same time, he had limited angles he could direct it to, so it did considerable damage to the door behind him in the process. By the time he’d grabbed it and wrestled it to the ground to finish it off, it’d already cut a hole clean through the door.

But the fight hadn’t been a complete waste of time, so he has that much going for him. True, he’d managed to buy Swift and Handy enough time to get out of there before the water caught up to them. He was worried about that. But since there’s no fresh corpses in the elevator or shaft that means they got out. Especially Handy with his metal armor, he’d sink rather readily. And Gearing himself might be stuck down here without any present way out, but that can still be fixed. Eventually he can figure something out or find another way out. He has time. And thanks to that fight he now knows that there’s no one in direct control of the bots. Someone, somewhere, is sending them orders for things to carry out, and they do.

Which will give him a wide zone to exploit because mindless automatons don’t think for themselves. Not truly. And he can use that to his advantage. He knows he just needs to stay off their sensors, and avoid any cameras he can, so whoever tried to kill them won’t notice they’ve failed and try something else.

Something more effective this time.

Gearing knows if he’s lucky, the ones in question will assume they’ve done the job and managed to kill him and the ones with him. If that’s the case, security should be rather lax. But, he also knows his luck and knows the probability of that happening is about as high as the probability of Celestia herself popping up, kissing his hooves, and begging forgiveness for everything.

Not far from the ruptured security double doors, Gearing finds another door that’s been crushed and broken in by the water pressure. But, as he’s walking by it, he takes note that he’s pretty sure it’s some sort of supply closet and nothing more. A few of the items float lazily in the water near the ceiling where their natural buoyancy tries to rescue them from the flood waters. As he’s watching they slowly spread out from the confined space of the small closet and into the hallway. Gearing glances up at the debris floating above him, and can’t help snorting in annoyance.

‘Never thought I’d be jealous of an empty plastic bottle,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumps as they both stare at the various floating bits of stuff above them.

His eyes are drawn back forward in the flooded hallway by a glow that’s decidedly different from the remaining lights in the hallway. He keeps his eyes on it as he’s about to pass, and can’t help but smile as he stares at the terminal’s screen. Even completely submerged, the terminal seems to be in fully functional capacity. His eyes trail over to the left of the terminal and he starts studying the doorway. The door itself is definitely one of the thicker varieties, and is used as a combination of fire or flood control and security doors. The multi ton of force the door is capable of is actually potentially dangerous for ponies to get caught in. But, as the reality in front of Gearing attests, the strength and thickness of the door has its uses. Especially at containing fires and floods. Gearing slides over to the side and starts working on the terminal. A moment later and the screen changes giving him an opportunity to unlock and open the door. He unlocks it, and steps over in front of it to peek in as he clicks the open button. Instantly the water gushes in and drags him into the opening under the door that is created as the door starts lifting up. As he’s slipping in he grabs hold of the door frame, and hits the door button on the interior side as he’s flailing around against the current as quickly as he can.

Although, regardless of what he might say later, hitting the close button was done entirely accidentally as he was thrashing around and trying not to get swept away with the water and just happened to hit the switch while trying to grab onto something. While still struggling against the gush of water, Gearing activates SATS. Because, given what’s going on, he needs to make the most of every second he can as he tries to process what’s going. And, with the world hyper slowed down to a crawl, he toggles an important setting to help get himself oriented again.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

And it’s after those affects begin to wane when he cancels SATS. Instantly his body flops down onto the ground as gravity reasserts its dominance over his form even before the door changes directions and starts closing again. The pressure against his body doesn’t subside, although its effects on him do as he’s no longer getting thrown across this short hallway and is left laying along the metal plating that seems to cover this entire room’s floor. Gearing starts pushing himself back up onto his hooves as he keeps his eyes on the door he’d just entered through and watches as it slowly shutters and reseals this room. He stands up completely and looks around as he notices that, even as short of a time as the door was open, the gush of water in managed to fill the hallway almost half full and the water’s still up to his chin even though he has his neck as straight up and his head as high as he can go without rearing up or jumping. He’s pretty sure that had the door actually opened up entirely the room would have ended up completely flooded as well. Although, the air pocket between these thick security doors gives him a bit of hope as he heads over to the other doorway by simply walking across the bottom.

From this side of the doors it’s only a hoof-friendly lever-operated rotary switch twist away and the other security door starts rising up. The faintest crack of a smirk crosses his muzzle as he stares down at the metal plating by the security door and watches as the water gets released and practically sucked out of the small room as it spills into the hallway beyond. Before the security door has even risen out of the water, even as quickly as the water level starts dropping, it already confirms to Gearing that the flood that assailed them was localized and, apparently, did not affect this new sector of the tunnels.

Which, in his mind, is both a blessing and a curse for Gearing.

On the positive side, if he finds another elevator shaft, or other way straight up, he can simply fly out of there. It’d make getting around and finding supplies, or simply transversing certain areas, much easier as well. Though he’s certain the bots would have a much harder time in, and escaping, the water compared to him. He’s already had a bit of recent experience with that particular truth. And, now that he’s not submerged, he can fly at will. All of those are definitely things to be grateful for now that the water level has dropped down to barely dampening his hooves as the rest of what had made it through with him has spilled out and into the connecting hallways becoming little more than nuisance puddles.

The down side that makes Gearing grumble is the fact that this means what was done, was done strategically, and with purpose. They could have simply flooded the entire network. Not that it’d really do much more than inconvenience Gearing, but they couldn’t have known that. No, they did this as a surgical strike. Causing as little collateral damage as possible as they tried to remove an, admittedly, serious threat to their network.

Which means they aren’t idiots, and are capable of doing more than many others as, despite what would be in Gearing’s best interest, they obviously have the ‘breathing and thinking at the same time’ skill mastered. And considering these individuals, because he highly doubts it was just a single creature, have access to all of the controls, he knows he’s potentially in for a lot of trouble. He’s going to need to be careful and take his time. He’s going to need to try and minimize his presence. He’s going to need to practically disappear.

Because if he doesn’t, and he draws too much attention to himself, they might just get serious and unleash on him a force that he would stand no chance against. The same exact force and using the resources that he’d had hopes for utilizing for the betterment of Equestria. That which he’d hoped he could use to rebuild Equestria, could easily destroy him instead. And he knows very well that they can do just that if they get the mind to do it. There’s a small, tiny, miniscule possibility in his mind that they might not be aware of The Core’s full potential. But to hope for that would be foolish. It’s been a long time since he’s had actual hope for a positive outcome that wasn’t backed up by favorable statistics and properly loaded dice.

Back when he was shorter, the skies were more friendly, and his friends hadn’t all gotten killed yet.

‘This isn’t a time for leaving anything to chance…’ The little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments. ‘Quick. Cold. Cautious. Calculated.’ He pulls out a pair of stone cubes from a pouch at his side and says flatly, ‘Load’em up.’

Before taking another step, he toggles his implant back on to get every little edge he can muster to mask his presence.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Activated

As he feels the magic take hold of his body, he gives himself a few quick shakes as he flings the water from his wings. Happy to no longer be submerged, he hops into the air, just barely, and starts hovering for a moment. After getting that tangible bit of confirmation he lowers himself back down to the floor and begins standing in the shallow water as quietly as he can.

The little pegasus in his head breathes a sigh of relief before it starts bounding around in his mind space. ‘Yup. See. They work. They’re fine. We’re fine. It’s just the dumb ole water being dumb. Just gotta stay out of the water and we’ll be fine…’

Gearing looks down at the puddle under himself, that is only fractions of an inch deep, but frowns as he stares at the rippling golden image looking back at him that has an unmistakably worried expression on it.

‘More water than that, I mean… A little water’s okay.’

A little water can turn into a lot of water real quick. Gearing mentally moans.

‘Just don’t give the bitches any more ideas and we’ll be fine.’

Gearing slowly steps over to the left side of the doorway, leans sideways, and peeks the opposite way out through the open door and down the hall as far as he can, before doing the same thing from the right side of the door frame.

After still not seeing, nor hearing, anything nearby he quickly zips his head out the door, gives a quick scan, and pulls his head back in to think about what all he’d seen. The glance was only measured in fractions of a second, but was more than enough. Especially since the hallway on the other side is long in both directions, rather repetitive in nature, like most of the place, and, most importantly, there was no movement that he could notice. He quickly sticks his head out again and starts paying a bit more attention to the other doorways in the hallway that he’d seen when he first looked out, and after a bit of back and forth, he steps out, closing the door behind himself, and heads to the right.

Gearing passes a couple of doors before he reaches another door that he’s willing to even touch let alone do something with. The first couple had some form of stronger security on them. One was not only a thick multi-ton pressure capable door used for both security and fire containment, but had a computer next to it that was obviously locked, judging by the screen that was asking for credentials. And, given what he’s trying to do at the moment, he doesn’t want to risk making his presence known too soon. He needs a spot to hunker down and think. Something inside of the dangerous area, but not too dangerous. He quickly looks at the standard door set into the side of the hall and fishes out a couple tools from his bag as he stares at the lock.

It’s difficulty is insultingly low for Gearing, judging by just looking at it, but hopefully it’s going to hold exactly what he needs behind it, right now, and the only way to find out is to open it up and look for himself.

In a short amount of time he has the door unlocked and the door already cracked open, after having checked around its frame to make sure that there weren’t any alarms or anything else sneaky. After being sure there are no traps, and his tools are stored away, he dares to open it up and peek inside carefully. Being increasingly encouraged by the second the more he sees, he dares a smile as he sees exactly what he was hoping for and quickly slips in.

Once inside the small room, he locks the door and slowly starts examining his new surroundings.

He’s not sure exactly what this is supposed to be, but he’s pretty sure it’s not any kind of maintenance closet. It’s got too much in here. A hodgepodge of supplies that seems more like some lazy pony just chucked their deliveries in here for someone else to deal with instead of actually doing their job. But, intended miscellaneous storage or no, the room has just what he needs. And, for once, it’s not one of the items on the shelves nor anything inside of the crates and barrels that have been stacked in the room.

Gearing slowly looks the storage closet over, and then walks around and behind a few of the supply crates. He gently grabs one of the large crates that are placed in the back corner, and spins around with it, switching positions with it in the process, before squatting down and setting the large wooden box in front of him next to one of the large metal drums that take up the left side of the room. After making himself his own personal fort-like cubbyhole made of supplies he slowly sits down as he takes in a long slow breath, and then releases it with a raspy cough as he forces out some of the water that had been sitting in him still. This is exactly what he needed.

A place to sit, collect his thoughts, and figure out exactly how he’s going to get himself out of this mess.

This has gone from a simple information fetch errand buck job, to a deep behind enemy lines serious fight for his life. And the whole situation turned on its head rather quickly. Probably one of the fastest flips he’s ever experienced, at least in areas where he didn’t really expect there to be too much of a problem. He shivers and shakes at the thought of what had just transpired and, in more than a small amount, is glad that no one can see him right now. He’d managed to get out of that river, but only with the help of a large group of ponies that actually gave a shit enough to throw him a line.

He’s not going to have that now. Not here. He has no real support he can count on. And the resources he’d hoped to garner and twist for his own uses, have instead been turned on him. Gearing closes his eyes and starts focusing on his breathing as he tries to think things through. He’s been in tough spots before. He can manage. He always has. But he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that’s only going to happen if he sits, calms down, and thinks everything through. He has to figure out his next move. Carefully. And it’s nowhere near as simple as ‘just get out of here’ despite how much his instincts keep screaming at him to do exactly that. There’s a lot wrong with this, and he has to take this as seriously as possible. Because someone is working against him. A dangerous someone. Because unlike the slavers, raiders, bandits, junkies, and crazies he’s run into thus far, these individuals have true resources and power. Of world shaping magnitude. And he knows that he has no choice but to respect that and everything it means with his plans.

Or he might never see the light of day again.

So, using one slow breath after another, Gearing begins to center himself again. To clear his mind. And try to get himself into the correct mindset.

The mindset that’ll let him to, if not succeed, at least survive.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A green stallion in an Equestrian Defense Force army uniform slowly looks up from where he’d been staring at the array of baked goods held inside of the glass display cabinet that functions as this small coffee shop’s counter.

The peach unicorn cashier behind the glass display cabinet tries to give him a warm smile, but the worry is clear across her face before she asks softly, yet again, “Is there anything else I can get for you today, sir?”

“Huh?” the deep toned stallion asks as he tries to focus on what she’s saying.

The cashier frowns and looks down into the cabinet as she asks, “Did you want any muffins or anything else to go with your coffee? … You’ve been staring at them for a while … and…” She looks behind him at the individual standing behind him and sighs. “A line’s forming so I need to…” She trails off her voice as she looks back at him and notices the thousand yard stare had returned to the green stallion’s face. “Need to… finish our transaction so I can help other customers…”

A young green buck, wearing a full bodied tan trench coat and a wide brimmed hat upon his lime-green-maned head, walks up from the side as he chuckles, “Hey. I know that look.” They all turn to look at him, the soldier included, and he nods as he says, “Relationship problems.” He leans over and grins at the cashier, “You mares will never know the power you have over a stallion’s heart.” He gives her a wink as he quickly slaps down some money onto the counter. “Here’s for the sergeant’s drink, and I’ll take one of theeeese…” He quickly nips out one of the candy canes from the glass jar on top of the counter and flicks it up in the air as he looks at her. “And you can keep the rest for yourself, gorgeous.” He catches the candy cane in his mouth, then tilts his head and gives her a wink as he playfully works the treat around with his tongue.

The cashier smiles warmly, a true warm smile, in gratitude for the turn of events. More so at getting rescued from the awkward situation than from anything else. Although the exuberant tip didn’t hurt matters either.

The green pelted soldier grumbles his thanks as he grabs the cup with a forehoof and starts walking away. “‘preciate it…”

Somepony picking up tabs for a service member isn’t unheard of, so none of them think anything of it as the two walk away from the counter.

But the trench coated buck trots quickly around and to the side of the sergeant as they walk down the street. After they get a bit further away, and the soldier still hasn’t said anything, the trench coated buck says cheerfully, “Some crazy times we’re living in, ain’t it?”

The soldier doesn’t even reply.

The green buck in the trench coat pulls a bit further ahead as he says, “Shame what happened to your marefriend…”

The sergeant doesn’t even look at him as he grumbles with his deep voice, “Look, thanks for the coffee. But I don’t care what newspaper you’re with. I’m not doing any interviews. No quotes. No comments. Nothing. So just leave me alone.”

The trench coat practically flutters as the younger buck chuckles and practically prances along down the street, “Well, I don’t blame you for that. Paparazzi… am I right?”

They keep walking down the sidewalk in silence for a while longer before the unknown green buck in the trench coat comments, “As far as accidents go, that was one hell of a doozy… Applejack’s lucky to be alive… Wouldn’t you agree, Sergeant Applesnack?” He trots ahead and spins around as he looks at Applesnack and starts walking backwards.

Applesnack snorts and hits the ground with his next few steps harder than normal to get his point across as he grumbles his reply, “I’d agree with you getting away from me… and quickly.”

The annoyingly chipper buck plays with the candy cane in his mouth some more and shrugs as he stops walking near an alleyway they are walking in front of. “Alright… alright… fair enough.”

As Applesnack is walking by, and taking his first actual sip of the coffee he’d just gotten, the other buck continues playing with the candy cane in his mouth as he says with a slight chuckle, “Though the only ‘accident’ involving that elevator… was that Applejack survived…”

Applesnack stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns his head as he looks at the trench coat wearing pony smirking at him around the candy cane. “What did you just say?!”

He turns, stretches his neck out towards Applesnack, and smiles widely around the candy cane with a toothy grin. “I said her surviving wasn’t part of the pla-”

Applesnack drops his coffee and lunges at the buck as the younger green buck jumps back into the alleyway they were just passing. But the maneuver isn’t nearly enough as Applesnack is quickly upon them. He grabs the smaller buck, rears up with him, and slams his back against the stone wall of the alleyway. Applesnack holds the other buck there by his throat as his normally deep voice reverberates with an even deeper menace. “Stop toying with me or I’ll break your sorry neck!”

Despite apparently getting choked, the green buck grins at him around the candy cane. He twirls it around in his mouth with his tongue, while staring at Applesnack, and as Applesnack’s anger clearly starts growing across his face, the buck asks, “Do I have your attention now? Can you actually hear me now, Applesnack?”

“You’re about to have more of my ‘attention’ than you’ve bargained for!” Applesnack holds up his other forehoof as he asks, “What was that about the elevator?!”

“Good, you’re listening…” Applesnack’s prisoner looks around and then leans his head towards Applesnack as he says, “How much do you know about elevators?”

Applesnack’s readied forehoof starts shaking as he’s having a hard time controlling himself. “Stop with the twenty questions, and start talking, while you still have teeth.”

“Well, I know a lot about elevators. So let me share something with you,” the apparently unphased buck says as he stares Applesnack in the eyes. “Elevators have been designed with a variety of safety mechanisms built into them. Precisely to stop what happened to Applejack.” He shakes his head. “And that’s not even factoring all of the additional safety measures that were put in place with that elevator.” He tilts his head and says quietly, “She’s a Ministry Mare, and that was her elevator.”

“What of it…?” Applesnack asks as he narrows his eyes at the younger buck.

“Do you have any idea what the likelihood of all of those failsafes having a catastrophic failure, at the exact same time, would be?” Applesnack slams him into the wall again, by his throat, and causes the younger buck to roll his eyes. “Okay, that was a rhetorical question.” He shakes his head. “Look, I know machines. I’ve looked into this the moment I heard about it. The likelihood that the motor and cable control system failed, at the same time the emergency brakes failed, all of them, shortly after a Ministry Mare stepped into the car is so statistically minute that it’s not fucking possible! It’s statistically impossible!”

Applesnack loosens his grip a bit before he snorts, “That doesn’t prove anything…”

Applesnack’s prisoner leans forward towards him as he grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “No… but it’s enough of a ‘coincidence’ that it’s worth looking into more, wouldn’t you say?” To Applesnack’s raised eyebrow the buck adds, “In my line of work, there’s no such thing as ‘coincidences’… so it was worth looking into…”

“What’s your point?” Applesnack snaps.

“My point is this… Who all knew that Applejack was going to be on that elevator, at that exact moment?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s another piece of the puzzle I want you to see…”

“Nopony… We were alone when she found out. So just me and her... and…” His eyes start going wider as he thinks it through.

“Wingright…” his prisoner replies with a silky smooth tone.

“How do you know that?” Applesnack pulls back, letting the green buck down as he says, “That’s… that can’t be right…”

“Wingright is Applejack’s personal chariot driver. She was going up to meet him, and since she’d just called him, he was fully aware of when she was going to be on the elevator.”

Applesnack looks around as he says, “You’re saying her own driver tried to kill her? Why?!”

The green buck reaches under his trench coat, and offers Applesnack a rolled up magazine. He waves it at Applesnack and, as Applesnack reads the barely visible cover declaring Fixit Brother’s Repair Tips and Tricks the younger buck says, “You’ll find page twenty-four particularly informative.

Applesnack snatches the magazine, unrolls it the rest of the way, and flips it open. His eyes go wider by the moment as he sees that, despite the first few pages being typical magazine fodder of worthless advertisements, the majority of the center of the magazine reads more like a dossier. As he flips through the pages he finds that, in fact, the magazine is a dossier, with a variety of information all pertaining to one individual, but printed and placed into the magazine like any other article. He quickly jumps to page twenty-four, and a snarl appears across his muzzle as he narrows his eyes at what he’s reading.

The green buck reaches over and taps on the page near a cartoonish chart as he says, “Quite the sudden windfall of money… don’t you think…” He taps on another spot as he says, “And there’s another large payment… notice the dates…”

Applesnack glances up at him and starts looking him over closely. “Where the hell’d you get this?” He waves it at the grinning buck. “How can I possibly trust this, you obviously had this made up, this could all just be a hoax to stir up trouble?”

“I have access to a lot more information than your average buck… But, as for making it up…” The younger buck shakes his head. “I could… but it’s the truth.” He shrugs. “I highly encourage you to use some of your own back channels to look into this. Maybe get a hold of some of Applejack’s family or friends to get access to the bank accounts. The records are there. Quite clearly. And he has zero excuses for how he could have gotten that kind of money legitly.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the police with this?” Applesnack asks as he raises an eyebrow and waves the magazine at the younger buck.

“Well… for a variety of reasons. But, considering the investigation is ongoing, they couldn’t make any moves on Wingright.” He shrugs. “He’s too small of a fish, and they want the bigger fish…”

“The ones that paid him and actually set this all up?” Applesnack asks.

“Clever pony,” the younger buck says with a condescending grin. He takes off his hat and lets his lime green mane spill out as he fiddles with the hat. “But, in regards to that, we’ve already got enough of a lead on them that Wingright isn’t necessary…”

“So you’re just going to let him walk?!” Applesnack asks as his eyes jump wide open.

The younger buck puts his hat back on as he chuckles. “Oh no… No, no, no, you misunderstand.” He looks up at Applesnack and grins. “There’s no walking away from this. A traitor that’s willing to take part in an assassination simply for a fatter wallet?” He shakes his head. “No, in my line of work, they do not get second chances to do it again.”

“If you’re just going to kill them anyway, why bother showing me this at all?” He lifts it up and raises an eyebrow. “Trying to earn some browning points or something? You expecting to earn some favors from me over this?”

The younger buck grabs the magazine and puts it back into his jacket as he shakes his head. “Nothing like that…”

“Then… what? What’s your angle?”

The younger buck grins at him and goes back to playing with the candy cane. “Well… in normal situations… someone like Wingright would be a starting point. And he’d be dragged in to find out who he’s working for, and then we’d work our way up the food chain until we got who’s really responsible for everything and bring them to justice.”

“But you said you don’t need Wingright?” Applesnack asks as he narrows an eye at him and grumbles.

The younger buck nods slowly. “That’s right…” He leans in and grins as he says, “Because we’ve already got a bigger fish further down the line… Which makes him a useless loose thread that needs to be dealt with, but won’t give us anything valuable.”

“And…?”

The green buck looks him over and sighs before he says, “If you care about Applejack as much as I think you do, I figure you wouldn’t mind taking matters into your own hooves… Probably even happily so at that.”

Applesnack’s eyes go wide as he asks, “You’re asking me to kill him?”

The green buck shrugs. “You’ve been on the front. Killing an enemy of the country and its people, and a known threat to ponies around him, should be well within your morality limits. If you’re not interested, I can arrange something else. But, either way he’s going to die. I just figured I’d let you in on it, give you a chance to exercise some vengeance by exacting justice on the traitor. And at the same time I wouldn’t have to waste any time on it myself. Because he’s got to go before he sells anyone else out…”

“Not that I’m agreeing… but… did you have any ideas?” He grinds his forehooves into the ground as he snarls. “If what you’re saying is true, and I’m not agreeing it is, but, I’d like to pummel him into the ground myself, but that’d cause problems and would be hard to justify…”

The younger buck’s coat moves as he reveals one of his wings that had been hidden at his side the whole time and grins at him. “Well… He’s a chariot driver… and I think one good ‘accident’ deserves another…” His grin turns malicious as he adds, “And, as a pegasus, I can tell you… cross winds on a stormy night can be dangerous. Especially around large buildings… Why… if you hit one, you could break a wing…” He waves his wing at Applesnack slowly as he says, “And, if that were to happen… say… on the edge of a building… The poor pegasus would have nothing to do the whooooole way down, but think about things… before they turn into road glue.”

The young green pegasus grins even wider as he plays with the candy cane again. “Such a tragedy… It happens from time to time you know. Hazard of the job.”

Applesnack looks around at the ground as he gives it careful consideration. He glances up at the green pegasus and asks, “And what about the ones really behind it?”

The green pegasus pulls the candy cane out of his mouth and twirls it with his wingtip a bit before he says casually, “Oh… them? Well…” He pops it back into his mouth before he looks over at Applesnack. “Just to let you know, in advance… it’ll never be proven, so no one’s likely to go to trial over it. But I can tell you, it’s getting handled.” He chomps on the candy cane, breaking it in half and pulling it into his mouth with his tongue before he says, “In a very permanent fashion… so there will not be a second attempt made…” He takes off his hat, places it to his chest, and dips his head a bit in a bow as he smiles, “So I’d appreciate it if you not dig too much into that… let the public forget about it, and let others do their jobs.”

Applesnack smirks as he asks, “So… you’re throwing me a carrot by letting me have Wingright… so I won’t keep digging to find the others?” He shakes his head a bit before asking, “Just who do you even work for?”

The green pegasus shrugs and says, “I’m not here in any official capacity…” He grins widely at Applesnack before he adds, “Officially I’m not here at all… so who I work for doesn’t matter… Just know that you and Applejack have friends. And your friends are looking out for you.”

“Uh huh,” Applenack grumbles with his typically deep voice. “And just what’s your name, ‘friend’?”

The green pegasus shrugs as he grins. “Call me whatever you want…” He flares out his wings and turns further down the alley. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to get to… but… remember,” he lifts off and grins at Applesnack as he hovers in the alleyway, “One good accident deserves another… Take care, Sergeant!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Gearing’s mind jumps around from one thing to another, he can’t help having a brief thought about another elevator shaft that had tried to change the course of history. Slowly a smirk forms on his muzzle as he realizes that, in that case too, the architects of the disaster had failed.

And in a strange way, that actually starts filling him with a bit of confidence and hope. But not too much hope. Just a realistic amount of hope based on what he already knows to be true and possible.

Although, at the same time, there’s something else that crops up and starts bugging him. There are many ways he could go from here. He could go back and sit at the bottom of the elevator shaft and just hope to be rescued by Swift and Handy, but that’s not really something he wants to bet on. As well intended as they are, it’d be a huge problem for them to even attempt. Because he doesn’t know how far the water got before it stopped. Another option would be to go through and head to the heart of the problem.

Into The Core itself.

This could potentially reap the greatest rewards for him. On one side, he could come muzzle to muzzle with whoever just tried to kill them, have them explain themselves, and, failing a good answer, have a bit of fun sending them running from a rushing wall of water and see how they like it. He gives a snort of annoyance as his emotions start creeping in and telling him that it would be a great idea, despite what his logical mind knows to be true. Because to get there he’d have to cut through the thickest portions of the security net. And, considering he knows for a fact it’s not exactly sitting there unwatched, that would be a bad idea. Because at a moment’s notice they could unleash the entire security system on him, and then it would be all over for him in a short period of time.

It’s the highest risk, but the highest reward potential too. He knows he could probably sneak around through the Green Line, and bypass a lot of the security with the train tunnel system itself. But that has its own risks with security and the area itself.

A computer screen flashes across his mind as he remembers the things he’d learned from Billiard and his friend.

I can only imagine the number of ponies that made it down into the tunnels. It’d make sense for being the safest place from the bombs. But they weren’t prepared for the fire and radiation. There’s nowhere for them to go, and won’t be enough supplies down there.

Bill, I hate to be this way, but desperate ponies are capable of horrible things. Don’t take any risks.

Fiz, you were right. Don’t tell Annie about this, but I saw some ponies like you’d described in the tunnels. Flesh burnt beyond belief. Practical running corpses. Discord having a playdate is the only way this makes any kind of sense to me.

Fiz, they’re starving in the tunnels. I saw. On the camera. A group of the burnt ponies chased down a group that didn’t look so bad. They fought for a bit, and one of the pony’s that still had their hair got knocked to the ground. The rest of his group ran away.

While the burnt ponies ate the buck while he was still alive.

“Uhg,” Gearing groans quietly, “I don’t really want to have to deal with ghouls… and all of those ghouls? Even a tunnel full, what could they do? On their own, not much… Trying to eat me is one thing but then it’d be likely I wouldn’t be able to simply get away from them either and they’d end up leading security right to me. And not to mention there’s always problems with them being just a bit too interested and-… wait…” Gearing’s eyes go wide as he thinks about it for a moment and the thought of an ‘interested ghoul’ sparks a completely unrelated wire in his brain.

Gearing quickly lifts his PipBuck up and starts sorting through his items again. And, again, it takes him some time to look for what he’s trying to find. It’s as if the thing itself doesn’t want to be found, and not just a simple matter of him glancing over it out of training and reflex. But, no, there it is.

Stealthbuck Mk I

He carefully withdraws the little module from his bag and quickly starts looking it over. In the same way he’d mindlessly twirled it while Handy and Swift slept, he starts fidgeting with it again: holding it between his hooves, by opposite corners, and spinning it as he’s looking at it and thinking.

The little module turns slowly as he twirls it and focuses on it intently.

The little blue pegasus in his head starts zipping around and squealing with joy as he screams, ‘This is it! This is exactly what we need! We’re getting out of here!’

Gearing slowly nods his head as he whispers, “Yeah… I’ll need to figure out the right path, and find a sure fire way to get out before using it… but… it’s a piece… a large piece.” He cradles it and holds it to his chest as gently as if it were a newborn foal as he looks down at the floor and thinks it through. “Its charge is limited, so I’ll need to be careful and hurry once I activate it, but all I need now is a clear way out and I can just… go…”

The little blue pegasus starts waving pom poms around as he gushes, ‘I swear I’m going to kiss that gorgeous ghoulie lady caravanner right on the lips when I see her! I bet she’s going to freak when she finds out that the little extra gift she gave me was so useful and important.’

Gearing smirks as he says softly, “Know what… I’ll kiss’er wherever the hell she wants after this… I felt bad about flirting so much before, but with this… Yeah, she’s earned whatever ‘quality time’ she wants.”

‘Just make sure Sable’s not around.’

“Of course…” Gearing says with a chuckle and a sigh as he stows the precious little item back into his bags. “Now what’s the best way to go about doing this…”

Being entirely re-energized by having an actual edge, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head starts flipping up one poster after another with a list of pros and cons and quickly ranks them. ‘We could try The Core first, not to actually get into The Core, but to get closer to it and find an elevator shaft up. The closer to the inner city, the more of those surface elevators there are. And we only need one. And they probably won’t expect us to make a beeline straight for those, so they’ll probably be the least guarded while they try and keep the outer perimeter… Which we are already behind, I might add…’

“The ‘Closer to Danger, Further From Harm’ tactic… Risky, but might work,” Gearing mutters to himself.

‘There’s also the Green Line. Same principle. But once we break into there, we can just turn and head straight out. Eventually we’ll come out. In that case we’ll just keep going as fast as we can and just avoid what we can but not worrying about it too much. It’ll be a bit on the rough side.’

And there’s the guarantee of ghouls, as Billiard had warned, so that’s going to be a problem as well… I mean they can’t eat me… I don’t think… but they’ll still be a hindrance, Gearing mentally adds.

‘The other option is to keep wandering around aimlessly through these tunnels until we find a method that goes up…’ his mental sidekick grumps at him.

The problem with that is we don’t know these tunnels, and we could get stuck down here permanently. And, to make matters worse, it guarantees we’re going to have a run-in with security eventually, and draw the asshole’s attention, meaning the rest of the security system is going to be focused on us when they realize that not only did they not kill us, that we’re actually deeper in than we were before… Gearing mentally groans as he can clearly see how that would play out if it happens.

‘Well, what are we going to do?’ the blue little pegasus asks as he starts looking the posters over one at a time and genuinely seems to be struggling with the best way to go about it as none of the options are particularly appetizing.

Gearing takes in a deep breath, and looks down at his hooves as he slowly lets it out. After the little exercise that gives him, he whispers to himself, “Let’s try the one that has the highest chance of success… Forget everything else… our goal is to get the hell out of here. We’ll figure out something later, but right now there’s not much we can do. We’re not prepared enough to be trying to do anything else. And we can’t accomplish anything later if we get ourselves killed down here…”

‘So…?’

“Trying to get to the Green Line seems like the best option, if I can find it. And then just follow it the hell out of here through the tracks, maintenance access hatches, air shafts, or something... Failing that, any methods with The Core’s surface elevators as a backup plan… And if even that doesn’t work we’ll just start causing a ruckus and distractions until I can get a path out of here somehow somewhere someway. If it takes me shoving my hoof so far up that bitches ass I can use them as a sock puppet to get me out then I’ll do it. I’m not staying down here forever,” Gearing starts grumbling and gets a bit louder than intended the longer he rants and the old anxiety of being permanently trapped starts nipping at the edges of his mind.

The little blue pegasus cringes as he asks, ‘You’re not going to try and dig our way out of here… are you? That’d take forever!’

No, because with my luck, I’d dig right in under the damn river and get buried in silt and another flood…

At the mere mention of the thought the little blue pegasus dives into his steam chest and starts shivering and shaking. ‘No, please…’

“Right,” Gearing groans before he throws himself forward and sets himself back up onto his hooves again. “Time to try and find a way the hell out of here that doesn’t involve getting gooed, turned to pudding, or buried alive…”

The steam chest in his head simply rattles in response.

Gearing grabs the box he’d used to hide behind, picks it up with his forehooves, and spins around with it to exchange places with it one last time. He carefully sets it down, barely making a sound as he releases it to its original resting place. But, now that he’s out of his little hiding place, and not typically being one to miss a golden opportunity, he starts looking over the supplies that are in the supply closet with him. He gives each shelf a discerning eye, going item by item, as he tries to figure out what, if anything, would be useful to him.

And, in a lot of the cases, the answer is ‘yes’. Especially if he’d be able to get this back to Stable 68. But, unfortunately, not much of this would really be helpful for him given his current situation. There’s a lot he could use, but not much of it would help get him out of the tunnel system. Plenty of chemicals to mix for offensive or defensive purposes. Plenty of things to clean with. In fact, the entire closet seems to be the maintenance departments storage hub for their cleaning supplies. At least it was before the other random boxes and deliveries were dumped in here. And those he’s too apprehensive to try and open to check their contents. Just in case they get randomly checked by the maintenance bots who might detect tampering. It’s paranoia at this point, but given the circumstances Gearing feels perfectly justified in indulging himself with it.

‘Too bad we can’t clean out the muck from here with all of this cleaning crap…’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head quips as he looks over the last crate of Abronco Cleaner.

“With enough mixes and a few toys I could make some ‘boom’ with this. But given everything going on, I don’t want to carry any more with me than I need… If I need it, I know where to come and get it…” He turns and starts heading towards the door as he adds, “There’s a reason they keep volatile chemicals away from other places… spontaneous accidental ‘boom’.”

‘Instead of a very merry Gearing intentional boom?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says with a giggle as it holds its belly with its forehooves and rolls back and forth in its steam chest.

“Quite,” Gearing comments aloud as he unlocks the door. He waits for a moment before he slowly opens the door and starts carefully listening out through the crack. Again, after not hearing anything, he pokes his head out and makes sure the coast is clear. And, again, finds that, yes, the entire area seems to be devoid of any threats.

So he quickly steps out and shuts the door behind himself. He politely locks the door behind himself to help hide any traces that he was even in there in the first place. And in the process not only help keep anyone off of his trail but, hopefully, give him a known safe place to fall back to in the event he needs it again.

He starts carefully walking down the hallways, checking each of the doors as he goes, to try and find a direction that he might be able to go without attracting too much attention. He knows the general direction he needs to go, up, and that he needs to head towards the Green Line. But, unfortunately, he’s painfully aware that sometimes the fastest way between two places isn’t a straight line, but instead a corkscrew that makes you back peddle a lot to get to where you need to go. Why? His official stance on it is: ‘Ask Luna and Celestia because fuck if I know why my luck is like that’.

He slows his walking as his ears pick up the unfriendly sound of metallic hooves moving in a very mechanical and predictably well-timed pattern. He swears to himself under his breath and zips ahead, towards the sound, as he sees an alcove set into the wall. When he gets there, he sees a lot of metal barrels filled with some unknown chemical. Unknown because some heartless individual ripped all the labels off long ago and any one guess as to their contents is as good as any other. But Gearing is able to zip between them, and swing around to crouch behind a few as the noise of approaching metallic hooves gets louder and louder. As he’s crouched down, he peeks out through the gaps with an eye and focuses on watching the opening to the little alcove.

A short time later a protectapony walks by, just as Gearing had anticipated. And then another. And another. And after the fourth one crosses his vision Gearing starts getting more than a little worried as he realizes that’s more than a normal work detail. Then there’s the added concern that they have been organized in an atypical formation for some other purpose besides simply going from point ‘a’ to point ‘b’.

Fuck, again they’re smarter than I’d hoped, Gearing mentally swears.

‘They’re still looking for us… But why are they just now getting here?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it eyeballs the metallic pony doppelgangers suspiciously.

Probably because there’s a lot of area to cover and they are simply spreading out. From The Core areas.

‘D-doesn’t that mean we need to get the hell out of here even quicker, before the whole area is filled with security?’ the little blue pegasus asks nervously as it nibbles at its forehooves

Fuck, Gearing mentally agrees with his quickly panicking mental companion.

And then both of their eyes go a bit wider as another sound greets his ears now that the noisy protectaponies have continued past far enough away to let the fainter sounds to be captured.

“You gotta be shitting me…” Gearing faintly groans.

He peeks through the gaps between the barrels, and his shoulders sink as his suspicions are confirmed with only a quick glance. Behind the protectaponies is a floating multi-limbed robot with a talisman working away to keep the bot hovering, but giving off that distinctive sound of its thrust in the process. However, as similar to CURE from good old Stable 68 as this robot may seem like, it’s not anything like a nurse bot. And it’s certainly not a maintenance bot either.

The little blue pegasus groans as it holds it’s head, ‘That’s an Equestrian military grade combat variant… Didn’t they call them ‘Mr. Buckys’?’

Gearing’s eyes trail over the saw that’s on the end of one of the bot’s limbs. It’s far more than would be necessary for preparing food or cutting wood and is not only exceptionally sharp but with far more teeth on it, making it able to easily cut through flesh and bone. And on another of its limbs is a small magical energy weapon, capable of gooifying a target on a lucky hit… and then there’s the combat variety of flamer on its other limb. It’s not simply for getting rid of weeds, or cooking, that thing can immolate a creature in short order. And, he knows, it’d be a bad idea to underestimate those pincers on the end of its ‘unarmed’ limb. They’ve been strengthened with the equipment capable of applying a considerable amount of force. Not only can it grab and manipulate lots of things with them about as well as any gryphon can with their paws, but they can also squeeze hard enough that they can practically become scissors.

And then there’s the enhanced hardened frame over the entire robot that makes it able to shrug off loads of damage and overall take a beating before finally going down. Compared to a maintenance robot, its residential civilian forbearer Mr. Handy, these things are monsters on a whole new level.

Gearing keeps looking it over as long as he can as it’s passing, which isn’t long, before it’s out of his line of sight without moving and risking drawing attention to himself. And in doing so he simply confirms to himself, That’s a Mr. Bucky Sergeant variety… A real pain in the ass, but still manageable. Now if we run into an officer class that’s going to be another nightmare entirely.

“Another glorious day in the Equestrian Army!” a gruff robotic voice declares proudly.

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he hears the sound of the hover talisman getting louder and louder, as its owner has turned around and seems to be coming back in his direction.

He quickly hits and activates SATS as he tries to work through his options.

‘Shit! They could just be coming back the other way, and just reached the end of their patrol route and are turning around?’ the little blue pegasus in his head offers unconvincingly.

What’s the likelihood of that?, Gearing retorts.

‘Not zero!’

Factoring in our luck?!

‘Zero, definitely zero!’

What are we going to do?! Shit, I can’t let them find me this early.

‘How about the old ‘Switcheroo Hey-Look-Over-There’ gag?’ his little pegasus offers.

You got to be kidding me?

‘Sometimes a good defense is an overwhelming offense... At least this way we can bluff our way into a position that means we’re not trapped in a room full of unknown, potentially explosive, barrels,’ his mental companion says flatly with his eyes narrowed at him.

Well when you put it that way!

Gearing drops SATS and takes in a deep breath as he looks up at the sky and mutters, “You can’t ream me if I’m not around to ream, you horny bitch. So you better decide what you want more…” Then he hops around the barrel he’d been hiding behind and screams as loud as he can as he starts running out of the small alcove.

“Heeellllp! Help! Security! Help!” Gearing jumps out into the hallway, panting and scrambling as he’s running, and he runs straight up to the floating robot, who spins around to look at him with all of his eye stalks. Gearing scrambles towards him and skids to a stop as he starts waving his forelegs around. “Sergeant, thank god you’re here! Intruders! There’s intruders in the tunnels!”

“Step forward and identify yourself!” the robot demands. And as Gearing is coming to a skidding halt in front of him he stares at him and asks, “It looks like it’s my lucky day! Who are you? Vandal? Saboteur? Mercenary? Changeling?!”

Gearing snaps to attention as he says, “Sir, Sergeant Bucky, sir, I’m a member of maintenance and I was sent down to repair the elevator, but there’s intruders! They’re wrecking the place!”

“Halt! Step forward, present identification, be recognized, and state your business.”

“Sir I’m just a maintenance pony, I don’t know what’s going on. I just know that Intruders destroyed the security doors in the next sector and now the whole area’s flooded.”

“Soldier, please provide proof of your identity. Be advised that I’m authorized to use deadly force if you fail to comply.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment before he asks, “Identification?”

“Yes, muckraker, identification… 73% of confirmed zebra infiltrators deny being zebra infiltrators prior to being apprehended with deadly force! So do you have it or do I get to kill you in the name of Luna?”

“Uuhhhhh,” Gearing groans and the pitch of his voice just gets higher by the second as the robot’s limbs start aiming all of their weapons at Gearing.

“Well, muckraker? If you’re really a member of maintenance, you have identification…” the robot asks reasonably. Then it’s voice seems almost giddy as it asks, “Or are you just a slimy zebra infiltrator? Maybe a changeling?!”

The little blue pegasus bucks Gearing upside his head and points at his bag repeatedly as he tried to get his attention.

Gearing jerks upright and grins as he says, “Sorry, must have got some water in my ears!” He leans over and starts kicking the side of his own head and, sure enough, splats of water come out and hit the floor, actually drawing one of the hovering bots eye stalk’s attention for a moment before Gearing straightens up and says chipperly, “Identification, sure, I have that. Why didn’t you ask sooner!”

The robot revs up his saw as he growls, “I did ask already, muckraker, so how about you stand nice and still so I can carve you up and-” It stops mid sentence as Gearing flips up a security card and waves it in front of himself.

Gearing waves the card a bit side to side as he says, “See, here’s my ID card. Everything’s good, right?”

The eye stalks try to focus on the card for a moment, but then the claw actually zips out, snaps it out of Gearing’s grasp, and holds it up close to its eye stalks as it examines it. There’s a delay as Gearing debates on the merits of pulling out his rifle and shooting this robot in the face while it’s distracted, or simply pony piling on top of it with his true weight and inflicting as much damage to it’s weapon systems as he can before taking off. He’s sure this isn’t going to work and the robot is simply letting everyone else know exactly where he’s at. And just when he’s about to jump at the bot and activate SATS, the bot finally moves again.

It spins its limb around and presents the card back to Gearing as he says, “This identification card is for a member of maintenance… For the next section over!” It leans a stalk closer to Gearing as it asks, “Just what are you doing in this section?! You’re out of your Ey Oh, soldier!”

Gearing takes the card and snaps to a salute as he says, “Yes, Sergeant, but as the Sergeant is aware a good soldier must follow every order that his superior officers gives him, right, Sergeant? For the glory of Equestria!”

The robot nods emphatically as it bellows, “You’re damn right you better follow orders!”

“Sergeant, I was ordered down to fix the elevator,” Gearing says as he stays straight faced and stares at the hovering robot.

“Then why aren’t you fixing the elevator right now?!” the robot asks as he periodically revs up his saw blade menacingly.

“Sergeant! Standing orders for the great Equestrian army are that, and I quote, ‘Any and all suspicious activity is to be reported immediately to security’!”

“Yeah, and?!” the hovering bot demands.

“There’s intruders! Vandals! Saboteurs!” Gearing bellows as he waves his forelegs around. “There’s stinking zebra-sympathizing freedom-hating changeling shenanigans ahoof! They’ve already destroyed the elevator and the security doors to the elevator!” He hops around as he screams indignantly, “You’re security, aren’t you, Sergeant?! I was ordered to find the closest security personnel I could find, and tell them what all I knew,” He stops hopping around and sheepishly grinds a forehoof into the floor as he says quieter, “And then I was ordered to stay out of the sector, until I was told by my superiors that it was all clear, so I wouldn’t be in your mane and get in your way.”

The robot focuses on him with all of his eye stocks, and weapons, as he says flatly, “Analyzing vocal patterns… confidence interval… 92%... Excuse… Accepted.”

Gearing waves his forelegs around as he asks with a pant, “Sir, what about the intruders?!”

“Slow down there muckraker!” The robot bellows. Then he chuckles as he says, “That’s a good soldier, I’ll make sure your See Oh hears of this!” His eyes whip around as he asks, “Where are they?! Where are they?!”

Gearing points back the way he’d come, straight at the door off in the distance that leads to the flooded area, and says, “Their last reported position was at the security door that they breached. The zone is flooded now and I can’t override that.” He snaps to attention and gives the sergeant a salute. “Good hunting, Sergeant!”

But the hovering combat robot has already disregarded him and spun around as he yells out, "Alright maggots, listen up, I want this infiltrator found yesterday! Move it, move it, moooove it!" The group of protectaponies turn and look at the Mr. Bucky before watching him charging off down the hallway the way Gearing had pointed and following as he screams, “Somepony find me something to shoot at!”

Gearing stands there watching them leave for a few seconds and then slowly sidesteps over to the wall to make it harder for them to see him and get out of sight quicker, if they did turn around, before he looks down at the access card. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help!” He slips it into his pocket as he looks around and starts wondering just how many he can fool with this.

‘It’s not likely to work with any of the officers,’ the little blue pegasus in his head reminds him. ‘And it certainly won’t work with anyone that’s actually in direct contact with anyone at the central office. At least not more than once. Querying the database is fine, but if any of those fucks in control of the system catch onto how old this card is, they are going to cancel it instantly.’

Gearing turns around and quickly starts walking down the hallway as he tries to find the fastest route going towards the Green Line. There could be plenty of times that he could try and bluff his way past the security, and succeed, but he doesn’t want to risk it. He’s only going to try that again if he has no other choice in the matter. And, thankfully for him, he has more than enough other options as he continues slinking down the hallways.

In a few instances he has to slip into side rooms as a patrol is coming. In others he quickly darts into an adjacent hallway and finds a way around the patrol. Other times he hides among the supplies in the hallways and just waits for the patrol to get out of sight before climbing out of the barrels or boxes. For the most part, things are going pretty well.

Until he gets to a protectapony group that seems to be doing actual maintenance. And, in an ironic twist, them simply doing their job proves to be the biggest hurdle he’s had to deal with since managing to trick his way away from that Mr. Bucky Sergeant. They aren’t simply patrolling, they are trying to do something to the walls and circuitry behind a panel with one of the hover bots with them manipulating the cables and such.

Gearing watches carefully from a distance, trying to get a sense of timing or the like, but, there’s none. They are doing a task that has no even movements to it and, unfortunately, this seems like the only way to get past them. His only other option is to double back and increases the likelihood of getting caught by one of the patrols that he’s already slipped by.

The little blue pegasus in his head stands on one hindhoof in a ridiculously complex pose and starts throwing little cloud balls at the ground as he says, ‘Poninja vanish!’

Gearing mentally groans at them as he mentally retorts, I’m not using that yet, there’s no clear path out. And this isn’t a comic book I can’t just poof out of sight and- He pauses mid thought as he looks over at a crate full of packing moss and a smile crosses his muzzle as he mentally adds, Or… maybe I can…

Gearing yanks the crate around the side of the corner into the adjoining hallway and quickly empties it right onto the floor. Both housekeeping and his mother would be very disappointed if they saw the kind of mess he’s capable of producing but at the moment he doesn’t care. The contents had long since been removed, so all that was left in it was the soft moss. He quickly flips the crate over himself, and squats down into the large box.

‘This thing is little more than a cardboard box,’ the little blue pegasus groans as he floats around and looks at it. ‘This is never going to work.’

Never know unless we try… Gearing mentally rebuffs.

The box, as sturdy as it is, has quite a few tiny gaps in it between the boards, and provides just a hint of a view of his surroundings from the inside. He starts slowly walking forward. Very slowly. The entire time he advances he has the box held aloft using his wings so that the box is just barely off the ground as he advances back down the hall. He carefully comes up to the corner at a snail’s pace, walking up, and stopping, before looking down the hallway through the cracks. As soon as all of the bots have their sensors pointed at the wall again, he scurries across the hallway, and into the section, before slowly starting to tiptoe down the hallway in their direction. Step by step, and inch by inch, Gearing slowly advances down the hallway that is not nearly as wide as he would like to be trying something like this. When any one of the bots starts turning in a direction he even thinks they might notice him and the box’s movements, he comes to an absolute dead stop until the next time he’s no longer being watched. When he gets closer to the bots, almost behind the first one, the maintenance protectapony suddenly turns its head and looks directly at the box Gearing is in. The two stare at each other for a few moments, as the bot tries to figure out if that new object has anything to do with his current task, before it goes back to working on the wires inside the wall panel.

‘Nopony heeeere… no one here but us shipping crates,’ the little blue pegasus says with a nervous grin.

A moment after the bot has looked away, Gearing starts twinkle hoofing it again and a split second later the bot’s head whips back around, almost looking directly behind itself, as it stares at the box. This time a bit of plastic getting bumped by the box drawing its attention. The bot stares at it again, then goes back to work, only to whip its head around spontaneously and stare at the box menacingly as the plastic had crinkled again.

Gearing stares out of the gap at them and mentally swears, I fucking hate plastic… I swear if wrapping paper is going to be the end of me I’m going to be very cross.

The robot spins around and starts walking over towards the box as it says, “Alert: Unsecured Storage detected. Object located in a hazardous zone. Object does not meet the minimum safe distance from an active work zone.”

The robot grabs hold of the box’s sides and lifts it straight up off the ground. One of the other protectaponies that had come over to assist looks at the box, and the plastic on the ground under it, and comments, “This cargo container is in the wrong zone. Team Lift cargo verified. Logging event. Logging improper storage location. Initiating managerial inquiry into unsafe work practice.” The two bots start walking down the hallway, beyond the work zone, with the box held aloft between them.

All the while Gearing is playing with a delicate balance between applying enough force that he can stay wedged inside of the open ‘bottomed’ box, yet being careful to not apply too much force that it ends up breaking the wooden storage crate as it’s hefted down the hallway by the two protectaponies.

Gearing does his best not to move at all, not a single gear, as the protectaponies haul the crate, with him in it, down one hallway after another. The one thing Gearing does do, besides straining his ears to their maximum potential to listen to everything around him just in case his ruse is discovered, is pay close attention to the floor passing under him. He watches very closely as the floor under him slides by with each mechanical step of the protectaponies as they march down the tunnels in sync with each other. Had this been in most other environments, he’d have an even harder time trying to keep track of where he is, but with the metal plates on the ground he can pretty accurately judge in which direction they are walking, the speed at which they are walking, and when they make turns and shifts. It’s not that easy to tell by inertia itself, because the bots are doing an excellent job of minimizing any of that kind of force on the cargo as they walk. But the plates on the ground let him mentally picture where they are taking him. The one area he has an exceptionally hard time placing what they are doing with him, and admittedly is the one place he actually loses all sense of direction, is when they pass over a large section of concrete that has been polished smooth to the point that any imperfections are so far apart he can’t use them to judge relative distance anymore. And that, added with how long and how far he’s being carried, starts filling him with a deep dread. He starts wondering if it’s in fact him that’s been fooled, and not the robots. If the robots aren’t actually taking him to some area where he can be ambushed and attacked. Or, maybe, just thrown into a security cell outright, complete with magical shielding, until he’s willing to talk or they decide what else to do with him.

He starts having a hard time controlling the little voice in his head that keeps telling him to bolt, and the nipping nagging feeling between his shoulders just grows and grows as the panic starts welling up inside his chest. As he’s trying to make up his mind that, one more section, just one more security checkpoint, and he’s going to break out and make a run for it or not he hears things that really dissuade him from rash action. He’s been hearing more and more bots as they continue on and he can’t help imagining that a horde is gathering up with his pole bearers and that at any second he’s going to be the center of attention for a few hundred magical and light based weaponry.

But then a dim room the robots walk into, momentarily lights up as they are stepping in. A few moments later the box is set down onto the ground. And done so with a level of care that no day laborer would have ever done unless they were being actively watched by some member of management. The bots turn around and start walking away as one beeps and announces, “Logging Event. Wayward cargo secured in staging area. Cargo is ready and awaiting inspection by Receiving Crew team members.”

A few moments later the lights dim again and the door slides shut behind the two protectaponies as the last one out comments, “Returning to assigned repair duty.”

His companion chimes in, “Power levels outside of optimum range. Returning to recharging pod. Alerting shift replacement and logging incomplete work order. Transferring. Complete.”

Gearing stays there, wedged into the bottom of the overturned box using every limb available to him as he listens very carefully. After a few moments of nothing else happening, no lights coming on, no alerts, no weapon’s fire, nothing tearing the box apart, Gearing slowly lowers one hoof at a time to the floor and gently tests it. The smooth stone is cold, but welcoming to Gearing. As stone is nice and solid. And, what’s more, it doesn’t trigger any kind of alarm. All encouraging signs. And he quickly drops down, uses his wings to lift the box up as he pokes his snoot under the bottom edge, and looks around to try and figure out where he’s at and what might be waiting for him on the other side of his tiny wooden sanctuary.

Unlike everything that had crossed through his mind, and every prediction he had made, the bots had, in fact, taken him to a storage area of some kind. He slowly slips out from under the box and looks around as he tries to figure out what’s going on, and can’t help but smiling when he sees the chipped paint across the one wall that proudly declares: ‘Shipping, Receiving, and Sorting’.

He quickly opens his PipBuck and starts looking around at the map in the dimly lit room as he tries to get his bearings, and his jaw almost hits the floor as he sees where he’s at.

The bots had taken him most of the way to where he’d needed to go anyway. Entirely of their own accord. The staging area he’s in, at least he’s pretty sure it’s a staging area, is one that has a direct connection to the train system. There are a few offshoots, if he guesses right, that run straight to the train service lines and the trains would unload their cargo that was headed to the maintenance tunnels through here.

He looks back over his shoulder and a large smile crosses his muzzle as he realizes that the bots, through their dedication to their own task, had managed to get him past a long string of security checkpoints by simply hiding in a box.

The little pegasus in his head starts prancing around as it giggles, ‘Happy little accident!’

Gearing sits down slowly and looks at his map again as he starts reevaluating what he should do. If he can get into the Green Train Line, he could just follow the tracks straight out of here. And even if some are collapsed, there’s bound to be side tunnels that will take him to the similar level that Swift and Handy are at. Assuming they haven’t gone to the surface. After that it’s just a simple matter of meeting up and getting out from underground together.

Again the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in with the same three options he’d brought up before. Now that things have changed, it needs to be reevaluated.

Green Line?

The Core?

But then before the third option shows up, the paper gets shredded and thrown away as the little blue pegasus comments, ‘Bit too far in for this one to even make sense anymore…’

And Gearing agrees.

Gearing looks around as he audibly groans. “I’m so close. I’m probably near the wall…” He looks over at the area on his map where he knows the Green Line is at as he sighs, “You know, if I go through that way… I could go ahead and try to get into The Core through the Green Line… Then just backtrack if that doesn’t pan out… It’s a straight shot… that should be fine… right?”

‘As long as nothing else goes wrong, sure, but do we really want to risk it? We don’t know what else those bitches have set up and active to fuck with us.’

Gearing groans as he looks side to side at a couple groupings of doors. Through one set leads directly towards The Core, at least, in the right direction, the other set leads to the landing station where the trains would bring cargo and drop it off for the rest of the maintenance tunnels to use or for it to be transported to strategic locations. Depending on what it was.

Gearing slowly turns around as he looks at the stacks and stacks of cargo crates in the room and his ears droop as he realizes that the amount of equipment that might be in these boxes, that could very well be right in front of him, might be enough to fund a small army. From combat boots, to helmets, weapons and ammo. It’d just be a matter of digging through all of it to figure out what could be used.

‘But… getting it all out of here would be impossible…’ the little blue pegasus comments as he raises a hoof.

Gearing closes his eyes as he groans, “And I didn’t come here as some kind of looter… There’s a time and a place for everything. And I have work to do.”

‘Business before pleasure?’ the little blue pegasus offers with a weak smile.

“Business before pleasure”, Gearing agrees before he turns his head pointedly towards the Green Line access doors. He starts walking towards the large metal double doors that interlock with each other and eyeballs them as he tries to figure out the best way past them. Sure, they’re big enough for a tank to go through… or two… tightly, but that doesn’t mean there is a tank down here in the tunnels.

That would certainly change the threat matrix on what he should be doing, where he should be going, and how quickly.

Which would be, in his estimates: Running away, anywhere but here, and as quickly as possible. In that order.

That annoying itching feeling that’s been increasing across his entire body just gets worse the closer he gets to the doors and his paranoia alarms start going off as he scurries over towards the glowing terminal set into the wall next to the doors. He sits down, brings up the debugging menu, and quickly gets to work trying to bypass the security’s password. He shifts around uneasily as the nipping and annoyance gets even worse by the second, and it causes him to screw up and misclick a few times, or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself, and forcing him to close out and start over. By the time the computer shifts to the confirmation screen, after he’d finally guessed the ridiculously long password, Gearing is practically vibrating as he’s fidgeting so uncomfortably while sitting there on the ground. He quickly opens the door, and scurries over to the doorframe as he scrunches down, hides, and waits for the door to finish opening for him to decide what to do. But the entire time, despite his normal temperament, he keeps randomly moving a leg or shoulder as the itching annoying feeling just keeps nipping at him.

Once the door opens entirely, and the noise from it dies down, Gearing stays absolutely still as he awaits some kind of response. But, nothing. No alerts. No alarms. Nothing. So he inches forward, peeks around the doorway, and instantly frowns at what he sees.

Another giant door just the size this one is, about 30 yards away.

“Of course… a double security door… uhg…” Gearing groans as he rolls his eyes, stands up ,and trots inside. He walks over to the other door, finds the controls to the door, and begins the process of opening it. His head jerks over and he starts running back to the first door as it starts closing. But his movements are off kilter and he’s having trouble getting his stride right. He stumbles and trips with the edge of his hoof getting stuck in a grate and causing him to tumble as the doors overlap. He pushes himself back up as he glares at it and groans, “Great… walked right into a fucking trap, just my damned luck.”

But, the moment the door closed, the door on the other side, the one he’d tried opening, starts sliding open.

Gearing’s head whips over, and he starts running towards the door, hoping he’s not being toyed with, and as soon as there’s a gap big enough for him to make it through he jumps through. He lands on the other side, with a grinding skid, as he looks behind himself and watches the door open to its max size. Gearing frowns as he says, “Well, that was an unnecessary amount of excitement.”

‘At least it wasn’t a trap… right?’ the little blue pegasus comments and tries to console him.

Gearing rolls his eyes and scolds himself for getting so worked up over it. “A one at a time security door… They’re so common, why the hell did I freak out?” He scrunches down and shakes his shoulders a bit more before he yells, “And why the hell am I still freaking out and feeling all creepy!?”

The little pegasus in his head’s eyes bug out and he slaps a hoof to his lips as he shushes Gearing.

Who, likewise, feels appalled at what he’d just done. He quickly slinks over to a wall, next to some trash, and quickly starts trying to take in the scenery.

Although, it doesn’t take him long to realize that he’s just made such a spectacle of himself, if there were any hostiles in the area, they’d already have his brass ass.

He was expecting a set of train tracks, or maybe a loading station, but what he wasn’t expecting was a practical small station. The area outside of the shipping area has several smaller tunnels going in a variety of directions, with notes along the walls telling anyone who notices which way to the train tracks, which way to shipping, and other interesting destinations those in the tunnels might like to know. But it’s done so openly that he’s sure it has to be some kind of more general use and less of a security area.

Which actually brings a smile to Gearing’s face as he realizes that he may have just hit the jackpot and will no longer have to worry about a swarm of murder bots coming after him. He quickly checks his PipBuck and finds that he’s gotten exceptionally close to the Green Line train tracks. He hops up and starts following one of the tunnels that’s marked ‘Delivery Tracks’ and hopes it’ll bring him to where he needs to go. The train track station has considerably more litter than what had been in the maintenance tunnels. And that probably has a lot to do with the amount of bots, and the amount of ponies, being through the areas recently. The amount of litter gives Gearing the distinct impression that there was an influx of individuals, but no one has bothered to take the trash out since.

His shoulders and back continuously bothers him as he takes one step after another through the off white hallways. The hidden sconces, set decoratively into the walls, gives him a decided impression that this area was, at one time, deemed important enough to at least have the façade of some kind of a ‘modern’ aesthetic. At least what had been considered ‘modern’ before everything got a new coat of balefire bomb fallout green paint. And the area is a great example of what he’d been telling Handy not long before. The lighting levels increased pretty well as well, except for the lights that are no longer functioning because of neglect or damage. After a gentle curve starts, Gearing slowly starts following the curve the rest of the way as it morphs into a practical spiral staircase that descends and takes him down and under the station. A bit further beyond the bottom of the staircase and the hallway suddenly opens up into a waiting area that, apparently, once had a huge egg shaped hall, with the tip gently guiding ponies to where they could board the trains once they arrived, where ponies could lounge around and wait for the next train to come by. But, as he’s getting closer to the tracks, he realizes that this is most decidedly not the Green Line.

The tracks seem to be made for a train that’s more for passengers than it is for cargo. Or, if it’s for cargo, it’s not for industrial level cargo. The ceiling just isn’t high enough over the tracks for it. He walks over to the side of the train station platform and slowly looks around as he tries to take in the view. Indeed, the same motif of the off white walls continues even along the train tunnel. He’s not sure why that would be necessary, and it quickly dawns on him that’s because it isn’t necessary, that it was done for looks purposes. The entire tunnel system going to his left is lit up as it fades into a single point as it curves away. And the only sign of any dimness around there is from lights that have blown, been destroyed, or are currently covered in one kind of filth or another from either pony or some other creature. He looks to his right and he takes in the view as the tunnel seems to open up quickly right past the station. He leans out with his neck far out into the train tracks as he sees that, yes, that area is not only wider, but is more industrial than the rest of the other direction.

Gearing screws his face up one way then the other as he looks back and forth and the only thing that makes any sense to him is that this is the supposed ‘End of the Line’ for the common folk, and that beyond here is where the tracks get more serious for goods transporting and where function matters more than looks. He can’t help but snickering as he wonders if that tunnel to the left leads straight to the Ministry of Image hub, as she’s the one that’s more worried about image more than any others.

He gives his PipBuck a quick glance again before hopping out onto the track and starts trotting his way towards the right. No, it’s not the fancy direction. But considering it’s more open, and more industrial, it’s more likely to have more access ports and doors for maintenance and side tunnels. He’s pretty sure if he went the other way, there’d probably not be another opening until it reached its destination, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that. Especially if some psychotic bitch in charge notices him and sends a train down the tunnel after him just out of spite.

‘Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel, is a train fixing to run you over,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grumps.

“Ain’t that the damn truth,” Gearing mutters to himself as he leaves the station, by walking along the tracks, and keeps his eye out. He stops dead in his tracks just past the end of the station as he looks at the dirt off to the side, under where that curved staircase had been, and sees a collection of property that has been piled up in a very specific manner. He slowly starts walking over there, looking at the bit of pink that he can see on the other side of the low wall of suitcases, and walks as quietly as he can. After he gets close enough that he can vector at an angle to peek around the luggage, he does so, and instantly his ears droop.

He changes course again, and heads straight for under the stairwell, as he stops even trying to be quiet.

There, under the stairwell, huddled like they were hiding from the world itself, is a pair of equine skeletons. Judging by the clothes that contain the majority of the bones, it would be an older mare, and a younger filly. They’re huddled together, wrapped in each others hooves, but the only thing left of them is dingy dusty bone. He slowly looks over the scene, and can see where they’d laid out a couple of their belongings, or things they’d scavenged, and huddled up under the stairs together on a pile of clothes they’d pulled out of the luggage. Judging by the clothing the mare is wearing, she was well to do. Or, maybe, she just found the dress and decided that if she was going to die she was going to do so as pretty as could be. But, then again, that pair of diamond earrings laying around her skull lends credence to the former idea.

Gearing slowly looks the scene over, and sees how they’d used the luggage stacks as a sort of privacy screen. And, judging by the number of empty wrappers, cans, and other filth, this had been their home. For a while. But not for terribly long either. He doesn’t see any signs of trauma to either one, at least not evident by their bones, and none of the options he can think of would have been pleasant ways to go. Starvation. Dehydration. Radiation. All of the above. There’s no telling. All he knows is that a filly and, presumably, her mother died in the dirt hiding under a staircase.

Gearing slowly walks over and looks at the bodies, as they sit there, huddled together, and still, despite being dead, look absolutely terrified. He leans over, grabs the faded dirty blanket that has a variety of cartoony animals all over it next to the filly, and leans back away from them. He gives the blanket a vigorous shake, snapping it and flinging dirt around and away from him, towards the tracks, before he comes back and flicks it out with his teeth and wings. He carefully lays it over the pair, which is just big enough to cover the filly entirely, along with the mare’s head and torso, as he says, “No matter who we are, we can’t take it with us… I hope you two found peace, wherever you are.”

He steps back slowly and looks them over as he lets out a sigh. He’s not even sure why it bothers him. He never knew them. He’s pretty sure of that. They’ve been dead for hundreds of years. It’s like getting choked up over ponies that had died during the unpredictable weather before Equestria became a nation. They died horribly, many from malnutrition and or cold. But he doesn’t sit there staring at their graves wondering what he could have done to help.

‘Because we didn’t fail them, and there actually were things we could have done to help these two,’ the little blue pegasus says as he glares at Gearing like he’s stupid. ‘You know that. I know that. The only ones here that don’t know that are the two sitting there, and telling them isn’t going to do anything to help.’

Gearing turns and starts walking away as he mutters, “No… but eventually they’ll find it out. And I only wish I could apologize, but regardless of whatever happens, that’ll never happen.”

‘Nope,’ the little blue pegasus says as he floats around inside of Gearing’s mind space. As Gearing turns and continues down the tracks the little blue pegasus starts using a hind leg to scratch at his own shoulder and back of his left ear. ‘I swear if I didn’t know any better I’d think we had mites or something… This annoying stuff is bugging the shit out me and driving me up the walls!’

“Mmhmm” Gearing grumbles as his face sours considerably. “I don’t know if there’s some kind of contaminant in the air or something. I mean, I don’t taste anything other than normal dirt, moisture, and the normal mildewy smell of the tunnels… with a bit of exhaust mixed in for spice… but there’s gotta be something down here causing this.”

‘Maybe that’s what killed the pair?’ the little blue pegasus offers quietly.

“Maybe,” Gearing mutters, “It’s a good thing Swift and Handy aren’t with me then, because if that’s the case it’d probably get them as well.”

The little blue pegasus gives a weak shrug as he comments, ‘Hey… there’s some benefit to this living hell at least…’

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

Unknown Index Reference. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

72 Green Means GO!

Gearing continues walking along the underground train tracks away from the small station as he keeps a careful eye on his unfamiliar surroundings. And not far beyond a jutting outcrop of roughly hewn stone that the tracks noticeably turn to avoid there is a decided dip in elevation. Just after that, and while still tilting down noticeably, the train tracks crisscross with another set of tracks that come from an opening to his left and Gearing can see the wreckage of where a couple trains had collided with each other and derailed. At least the beginnings of the extended field of destruction as every direction except the one he had just come from is home to different pieces of the disaster. Some of the cars had passengers in them. Others were mostly cargo judging by the shape of the overturned cars. As he gets closer and starts walking through the accident scene he can see bodies everywhere. Or, what’s left of them at least. In some cases they had been smashed by the heavy containers falling out of the other cargo train. In some they seem to have just died where they landed, from where they were ejected from the cars during the accident. All of them have been reduced to skeletons. Some still have their clothes, though most don’t. But then the more he looks at it, the more that itchy feeling over his body just keeps growing.

‘I don’t like this,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says as his mane bristles.

Gearing walks around the wreck, keeping a good distance from it, as he skirts around the outcropping and starts trying to walk along the right side wall’s edge. As he’s walking over one of the skeletal bodies that looks sprawled out on the ground, he stops dead in his tracks as he suddenly looks down. The buck, judging by the skeleton, has bones scattered around him. Also, the limbs aren’t really in any position they should be considering the way the body is laying. The longer he looks at them the more the strange markings on the bones become evident. And, after staring at them for a few seconds, they become crystal clear to Gearing as his eyes start growing wider by the second.

Teeth marks. Equine teeth marks. All over the corpse’s bones. From the legs to the head and everything in between seem to have gouges in them.

Suddenly the odd placement of the legs makes sense. Once he stops trying to mentally force any idea of the pony just falling down dead and decaying where he fell, it becomes obvious that their legs had apparently been practically, if not actually, ripped away from the body as they were held down and feasted upon by other equines.

‘Ghouls,’ the little blue pegasus says with a groan as Gearing’s head whips up and he starts looking around in sudden alarm and with increased alertness.

The damage is old. The corpse is old. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t still lingering around, especially if what he’s heard about their life spans is correct. The one thing he can’t entirely figure out is why the bones are so intact and close together. As morbid of a thought he realizes that is, he’s seen what happens when scavengers get a hold of a body before they can be reclaimed. Or when something big attacks a pony, like an adolescent dragon. Or even a manticore like those that he’d been warned about that called the Everfree Forest their home. Bones aren’t normally this kept together when the body is being devoured. They get scattered around more if not actually consumed as well.

He kneels down and uses a wing to gently roll the head of the buck over so he can see the other side of his muzzle. And the difference is quite stark.

‘No bites,’ the little blue pegasus comments as they both pay careful attention to it and start mentally placing direction of bites to cause the damage pattern.

Gearing sets the skull back the way it had been as he straightens up and then starts walking around it as he thinks to himself. Something interrupted their meal. They ran off without finishing it entirely.

‘Could something have scared them off?’ the little blue pegasus muses.

Doubtful, more likely they saw something else and went after it instead.

Gearing walks along the overturned train cars, avoiding all of the debris he possibly can, as he goes back to trying to be as quiet as he can be. The ghouls might be a problem for him. Or they might not. But he’s absolutely certain that whether they are dangerous on their own or not, they’ll cause enough of a commotion to draw more attention to himself that he really doesn’t want. When he approaches an area where there’s a lot of wreckage and debris, but enough head space to do so, he jumps and flutters over the mess instead of having to try and pick his way through it. And, from the air, he can see that the tangled mess is about as bad as it could be. In a couple instances he sees where things had caught fire, but nothing had put it out. No one had come. No rescue. No bots. Nothing. And it was left to burn until it finally burned itself out.

Which is tragically evident and portrayed by the passenger train car that is still full of skeletons, at least a large pile of them, as the entire box car had burned down to the metal. The heat had been so intense that the metal had warped and caved in as the car burned, and several of the bones are actually sticking out of the metal itself. The bones seem to be baring themselves to the world so that any viewing the scene would realize that the victims of the crash didn’t simply rot away. They were burned, trapped in the metal, and, unfortunately, were just as likely to have died in the flames as they were from dying in the accident.

The further down the tracks Gearing gets, heading towards The Core, the stronger the itch all over his body gets. And as he’s landing on the ground, he jerks his head around as the sound of him stepping on a can seems to echo out. But what caused him to have a momentary spasm of his head wasn’t entirely to do with the fact that he’d accidentally made more noise than he had intended. It was because he’d heard it in an off-putting lopsided way. He tilts his head left and right, and starts rotating his ears around as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

‘It’s like someone turned down the world’s volume,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says with a concerned frown.

“This is bad… If I’m having a hard time hearing, they’ll be able to sneak up on me easier,” Gearing mutters aloud to himself.

‘Well, at least the right seems okay…’ the little blue pegasus adds with a horribly ineffective smile of reassurance that neither of them really feel.

Gearing slowly starts walking, while moving and adjusting his shoulders again, as he groans, “God this itch is annoying me… I gotta figure out whatever this gas is or whatever it is so I can come up with an anti-itch counter measure.”

‘It’s annoying... it really is,’ the little blue pegasus in his head grumps as it starts rolling around and scratching at the left side of his shoulder and face with both of his left hooves. ‘What is this?!’

Gearing steps around a car that had been so thoroughly cast away from the train wreck that it’s not only not even attached to the rest of the destruction, but it’s laying a distance away and against the tunnel wall to boot. As soon as he’s on the other side of the teetering car, he notices a door made for hoof traffic, and not likely to be used by normal customers but only actual work crew members. Gearing walks over, and pauses as he looks at a smear of black ichor on the door frame next to the computer terminal. He stares at the black damp ooze and can’t quite figure out what it is. He runs it through his mind a few times, thinking it almost looks like burned or coagulated blood. But, then again, nothing around here looks like that so it’d be strange for it to be here. All of the fires had burned out so long ago that any of the blood should have dried to dust decades if not centuries ago.

He shakes his head, and mindlessly starts scratching at the left side of his face with a hoof as he directs his attention to the computer terminal. It’s locked, although, judging by the card reader next to it, it looks like it had override cards that could let someone get inside without having to go through the hassle of unlocking the terminal itself. He debates on trying the ID card that he’d acquired earlier, and already successfully used once, but quickly dismisses the idea. If it works, it’ll create a log of the access. And if anyone’s paying attention to the access control system, they’ll know it’s been used. True, logging in with the password will also create a log, but that’s not nearly as suspicious as a unique card that hasn’t been used in over 200 years suddenly being used everywhere. That just screams ‘breech’ and Gearing knows it. Gearing starts tapping at the keys with one hoof and in short order the door is unlocked and ready to enter. He keeps scratching at the left side of his face as he hits the button to open the door and starts walking forward with his head down as the door splits in half vertically and slides into the flanking walls in front of him revealing the dark passageway beyond.

As he’s stepping into the entryway, he hears a hissing gush of wind like a ruptured pipe venting air, but it turns into a low rumbling sound that makes his head jump up and forward. The lights in the short hallway kick on in front of him in a wave, one after another away from him, as he’s walking, and, as he’s looking forward, and the lights are coming up, the door behind him closes.

Before the lights are even all on, the source of the noise becomes clear as dark skinned creatures start bounding down the hallway towards him. As they charge at Gearing, they let out a blood curdling unequine scream while black ichor flows out of their mouth and their jagged broken teeth gnash the air in anticipation of the meal they are about to enjoy.

‘Welp, that explains where the black crap came from,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head says flatly as its ears fall down and its frown turns comically colossal.

Gearing’s head turns to the right, letting him quickly take in the scene behind himself, and confirming that there are none behind him. But, also, there doesn’t seem to be a way to open the door again from this side. No computer. No levers. No switches. Nothing. Gearing starts turning his head back towards the oncoming attackers as he grumbles, “Of course I picked the wrong way!” The first ghoul jumps at him, and Gearing rears up, bringing his own forehooves up over the ghoul’s head, and then bringing them down again simultaneously as he growls, “Just my fucking luck!”

As the ghoul tries to give Gearing a very forceful and undesired hug, a line of code crosses Gearing’s line of vision as he toggles his little helper.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

The ghoul’s forelegs wrap around Gearing’s neck, successfully, but when Gearing’s forelegs come back down, he tilts his forehooves to impact into the ghoul’s shoulders with the edge of his hooves as he resumes a nearly standing position. However, the practically rotten flesh yields nearly instantly to the brass wedges being driven into it, and separates the bones at the joint with loud cracks and pops as the ghoul suddenly ends up flank over mane in front of Gearing as their body gets twisted from the maneuver so unnaturally.

The ghoul screeches and seems more angry than hurt as it snaps and bites at Gearing’s hindleg, yet otherwise doesn’t seem as phased as Gearing would expect an individual to be when two of their limbs are practically ripped off. The second ghoul in the short hallway doesn’t even blink as their friend is delimbed and instead jumps over them in an attempt to hit Gearing with all four hooves simultaneously as it lets out the same horrible scream.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head starts tossing a few geometrically shaped stones in the air with a wing as he asks, ‘Time to roll the dice again?’ He tosses a couple of the cubes in the air and sits down as he watches them tumble through his mind space, itching, scratching at himself, and twitching regularly the whole way.

Gearing greets the incoming ghoul with a hoof of his own. But, instead of trying anything fancy, he simply plants his other three hooves, then stretches out as much as he can to stick his right foreleg out as straight as he can. Towards the ghoul. With his hoof tilted just so and effectively making a large brass spear.

The hoof sized spear tip doesn’t deter or deflect the ghoul in the least, as it impales itself on Gearing’s hoof with its own momentum. Gearing’s eyes go wide as, despite his forehoof being buried deep in the ghoul’s chest, the ghoul continues to lash out with all of its limbs and grabs a hold of Gearing before trying to pull him in closer so it can bite him. Its maw comes in and snaps down on Gearing’s head, trying hard to get purchase, but doing nothing more than breaking teeth. However, after repeated gnawing attempts and many shattered teeth, the pointed teeth from recently being broken find purchase in an abnormally wide gap on the left side of Gearing’s face and it chomps down harder.

Gearing lets out a howl of his own instinctually as, despite everything he would have thought. That. Hurt.

When the ghoul adjusts its bite to gnaw on Gearing’s left ear, Gearing swings his right foreleg attempting to take the ghoul away from the left side of his body and get it to stop biting and causing whatever damage it’s managed to do. But that’s not what happened at all. Instead, Gearing’s foreleg simply rips right through the side of the ghoul’s practically rotten chest, sending ichor all over the wall to the side, as a variety of disgustingly coated bits splat along the floor.

The partially eviscerated ghoul doesn’t seem to care, and with the right forehoof no longer in the way it moves in to bite more on Gearing.

But Gearing is no longer interested in staying quiet.

The first ghoul had managed to scoot forward while Gearing was dealing with the second one and started chomping down on Gearing’s left hindleg. And while it hadn’t done any real damage as far as he can tell, certainly not as much as whatever the thing on his head had done to him, it’s a hindrance he doesn’t have time for right now. So while he grabs the ghoul on his head with his forehooves, rearing up in the process, he shifts his weight so that he’s temporarily only standing on one leg, the one getting bit, and then stomps down with his other hindleg onto the ghoul as soon as he can. As the ghoul under him’s skull is suddenly turned into a disgusting horseshoe for Gearing, Gearing uses his forelegs and flings the ghoul biting on his head away from himself with both forelegs by hurling them away in opposite directions. And the ghoul does finally get flung away from him.

In two pieces.

‘Boxcars,’ the little blue pegasus in his head says as he looks at the dice coming to rest at the same time the ghoul splats against the metal plating and comes to rest.

The upper torso of the ghoul hits the left side wall of the hallway, while the back half hits the right. With the two sides being connected by black ichor covered ropey material. The creature’s head whips over and lets out another scream at Gearing, one that even causes Gearing to shiver from the horror of it as he can actually see the lungs of the ghoul hanging out of the chest cavity and moving with the noise. With any chance of stealth now lost, Gearing hops forward and smashes down with his right forehoof again. This time making sure to go for the head.

And the sound is mercifully cut off with a punctuating splat as the ghoul’s head is caved in and smeared across several feet of the metallic wall.

Gearing looks around quickly as he takes in his surroundings and tries to listen for anyone or anything else. There are no more attackers, not that he can see. But he knows he’s not out of the woods yet. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong. Even more so than he’d have known or thought of before this experience. There’s no way equine teeth should have done that much damage to his head. Gearing tenderly reaches up with his left forehoof, feels around on the left side of his face, and winces and groans as he works his way over the damage.

“Yeah… they got me good…” Gearing groans as he holds his head and feels the uneven warped area of his face.

‘Snake eyes,’ the little blue pegasus in his head says with a frown as he grabs the dice and starts rattling them again.

Gearing starts looking around the short hallway as he holds onto the left side of his head and groans, “This is ridiculous…” He checks the door he had come through, verifies that there’s no immediate way that he can tell how he can get the door to open normally through this way, then starts going back the way he was originally heading before getting attacked. As he’s approaching the other end of the hallway he can see where the other door is partially ajar from being damaged. And then he finally gets a clear look at a pile of debris scattered around the front of the door. He slowly moves his left hoof out of the way of his eye as he takes in the scene in front of the apparent exit door.

‘I think we found what interrupted their meal…’ Gearing’s little blue pegasus comments with a frown.

Gearing nods as he whispers aloud, “They chased others into here, and some of them got through to the next area, but some couldn’t… This poor sod… or sods… got eaten alive right here.” Gearing comments as he pushes around the blood stained and torn apart fabric with bone fragments all over the place. Even the skull had been gnawed as much as possible by their assailants it seems.

‘Onward and upward?’ the little blue pegasus asks as he points towards the door in front of him.

“Not much choice otherwise,” Gearing mutters as he steps over to the door and looks it over. The controls had been smashed, and the door had gotten jammed by something as it closed. He’s not sure what happened in which order, but it is definitely a problem. Probably fatally so for the owners of the bones he’s politely trying not to step on. He cracks open the panel of the controls and starts fiddling around with the wires for a little bit. As he’s working, he keeps reaching up to scratch at the left side of his face, but keeps hitting an exceptionally sore spot and hisses as he jerks his hoof away from it. “Damn this shouldn’t be hurting this bad, and why isn’t it healing quicker?”

‘Well quit picking at it, Dummy! It’s not going to heal if you keep picking at it!’

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya, Cross… I know, I know,” Gearing mutters as he keeps working on the door. After a bit of work he says, “I can’t get the controls to open the door, but I can at least trick the system into trying… Which will make pushing it apart easy… er…”

A few short sparks later and Gearing pulls away from the destroyed panel and looks at the door as it whines and grinds, but doesn’t really accomplish anything. Gearing hops over, braces himself against the adjacent pieces, and pushes off. The twisted metal bends even more, but it yields and the motors do actually help retract the door even further as Gearing helps push while it pulls. And, once the door is open, Gearing can see that the carnage in the hallway he’s exiting isn’t the only place some abomination and crime against equinity had occurred. On this side of the door there are a couple more spots where other ponies seem to have been preyed upon by the cannibalistic monsters. Judging by the ancient blood stained stone and metal sporadically covered with clusters of ‘leftovers’. But, there are also a couple of ghoul bodies laying out and, apparently, seemingly untouched by rot itself. He’s not sure if that’s an attribute of ghouls themselves, if they died recently, or if something else is going on. But he makes sure to toggle on SATS and tries to target several of them. In the majority of cases, nothing at all shows up. As this particular enchantment focuses on living threats to help limit targeting options for optimization purposes. Don’t ask Gearing why it can target some things without a pulse, like grenades and robots, but not others, like ammo boxes, that’s something he’s puzzled over repeatedly. All he knows is it’s something with the spell’s matrix programming, and that’s not his particular expertise. Though, in an act of paranoia reinforcement, his PipBuck proves useful in one particular case here, with a ghoul curled up behind a piece of furniture in what Gearing assumes is a small lounge for workers: that ghoul was targetable. Gearing carefully walked over, as stealthily as he could, and held up a forehoof over its head. Then he grabbed an empty bottle off of the floor near it and dropped it onto its side with his wing. The ghoul instantly startled awake upon impact and looked up at him.

But before Gearing could ask them anything, it started kicking as it was working its way onto its hooves. And the snarl he’d seen before in the short hallway returned as well but to this one’s mouth as it started the first few notes of that horrible scream of theirs. But, as soon as that bit of confirmation was made clear, Gearing quickly stomped down with the hoof he’d had at the ready and put them out of their misery.

The door he’d entered through had four possible ways he could go as the hallways came in at angles to meet up at the access point to the train tracks. Directly to the right, going back towards away from The Core by his judgement, is a check-in desk where personnel would check in and out and check their assignments before heading on to their individual duties. And across from that small booth is the small lounge where Gearing had found the only living ghoul nearby. The hall directly to the left of the track access heads straight for The Core it seems, but weaves and it’s impossible to see for much further because the hallway angles such that the view gets cut off not far away. The one directly to the right of the one headed towards The Core splits off in a strange forty-five degree angle. It goes towards The Core, assumedly, but not as direct. Yet, it draws Gearing’s attention for that fact. And for the fact that the other two passages, that don’t make a beeline for The Core, terminate at security doors before the hallways have a chance to fade or bend out of sight.

So he picks option two, and starts walking down that way. He knows he’s getting closer to The Core, but he hopes this odd angle means it’s going to go somewhere else, like out, before doing so. Sometimes direct routes like this are put in to make getting to emergency exits or elevators that much easier.

Though the lack of ‘Exit’ signs is really putting a damper on that hope.

Gearing continues trotting along down the hallway, itching and scratching at himself as he gets increasingly agitated about his circumstances. In a short while the hallway makes a gentle turn, and afterwards he can see the hall terminating at what seems to be another large storage area. This instantly fills him with a bit of hope as there’s possibly a way out. Since these areas are all hoof traffic, they have to have some kind of way for the large amounts of cargo to come and go. And hopefully it’s more than just back to the same train tracks that he’d run into before. He’s sure it should be, considering there’s already the one depot behind him and not far away from this set of doors.

He starts picking up speed as he’s approaching the doorway. But, as he’s getting closer, he notices that this doorway is just a frame. The doors aren’t simply being held open. The doors, such as they were, were simply swinging doors with no real security holding them in place. They were the doors at least. Because they had been broken in and are now lying mangled on the ground several paces within the storage area. Both of them are covered in the same kind of black ichor that he’s already become accustomed to that means bad news is in the area.

‘Great, more of them,’ the little blue pegasus says with a groan. He starts rattling around the pair of dice again as he asks, ‘Shall we try again?’

Gearing’s focus stays on the door, and he swears at the universe for the problems his left ear is giving him as he continues to look into the storage area. A bit of movement catches his eye as he’s walking past a doorway on his left, and he slowly starts turning his head to look that way.

As he’s crossing in front of the doorway for a typical office meeting room, a snarling burned pony face greets him, covered in ichor, before any sound at all is heard by Gearing. They stare at each other, and as the first notes of the scream escape the creature's lips, it is joined by more and more. And then, in the back and behind the giant mass of writhing warped flesh, the room lights up with an unhealthy green color as yet another equine stands up. But this ghoul isn’t like the others. Its skin has cracked and opened up and it looks like it is composed of pure magma. But instead of the white hot or red liquid hot hue, it’s a sickly luminescent green color that flashes out of the cracks in its blackened hide. All of the eyes of the ghouls give off a faint nearly amber glow. But the eyes on that green one are glowing with a balefire green fierceness like they are trying to challenge the sun itself for supremacy.

There seems to be a slight pause for Gearing as the green ghoul rears up and takes a deep breath. But it’s not any form of SATS’ magically assisted shenanigans. It’s pure hyper focus caused by a gnawing valid fright. And as the forehooves of the green abomination hit the ground, it lets out a guttural battle cry that could shatter eardrums. In the same instant a visible wave of semi-transparent greenish energy gets expelled from it in an ever expanding globe. The ghouls that were sluggish in getting up, seem to get amped up by this burst of energy as their movements start quickening.

And as for Gearing, his PipBuck screeches almost as loud as the green glowing monster as he’s bombarded with a massive dose of magical radiation. But that’s the least of his worries at the moment as the ghouls start charging the door to the hallway, practically stampeding over each other, as they all try to be the first one to try this new golden colored treat.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head starts waving a pair of checkered flags as he screams, ‘Green means ‘Go!’! Light’s green motherfucker! Go, go, go, go, go!’

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Activated

Gearing quickly breaks off into a full gallop as he heads straight into the storage area in front of him while the ghouls start pouring out of the meeting room in ridiculous numbers.

Gearing isn’t a fan of making a break for it and running in a direction he hasn’t been to before to get away from a threat. Not in enclosed spaces anyway. That’s a horrible idea. Because he knows you can easily end up trapped that way. But in this particular case he already knows three of his other options are a dead end, which leaves him only one other unknown. Given that this room is much bigger and wider than the hallway, and gives him more room to maneuver, he begrudgingly thinks better of simply turning around. Because at least in here he has a decent chance of fighting off his assailants if not actually getting away from them. As soon as he’s through the door, and has enough head space, he takes to the air and starts flying upwards. He might not be the most agile nor fastest flier Equestria has ever seen. But one thing he’s got over all of those ghouls is wings, and he’s going to use them to his advantage as much as he can. He circles around and looks down as the ground bound ghouls pour into the room, and he doesn’t travel up as far as he would otherwise. He wants to find a way out. This delivery staging and storage section seems to be about three stories high, if not more, and practically hollow except for the concrete and steel supports that is. And while there might be a way out further up in the space, he doesn’t want to miss out on any possible exits on the ground or lose sight of his pursuers. They’ve already surprised him once with their trying to gnaw his ear off, and almost succeeding, he doesn’t want them to get the jump on him again.

‘This is like those damn 68 roaches all over again!’ the little blue pegasus in his head grumps.

Gearing spins around, grabs a large box off of a high stack, and dive bombs back towards the line of ghouls as the thicker part of the murder herd starts making their way through the door frame. With a last second quick flick he uses his added momentum to hurl the crate at them before pulling up and away again. The box isn’t nearly as effective as he’d hoped for, but it still crashes into a good cluster of them and seems to seriously injure, if not actually kill, several of them.

But, as he’s pulling out of the dive, he notices the hallway growing in brightness with a green color. And on his way back up the green ghoul steps into the room and over the others. It doesn't even seem to pay attention to the others at its hooves. But it lets out a long howling scream, rears up, then slams their forehooves into the ground again. And, again, a burst of green energy explodes out of it in a large dome. But, this time at least, Gearing’s far enough away from the blast that he doesn’t get dosed with more magical radiation. However, he’s close enough to see the effects on the other ghouls as their speed seems to increase again. And, what’s worse, before his very eyes he can see that some of them that he’d just injured, are actually rapidly healing as the green glow seeps into their flesh. One leg that he had quite proudly broken, rapidly covers the exposed bone back up with black flesh and the ghoul starts running around like nothing at all had happened.

“Oh come on, that’s cheating!” Gearing bellows as he rolls over on his back and shakes a hoof at the green ghoul. The pair lock eyes for a few seconds, and Gearing’s eerie sense in between his shoulders makes itself known, even above all of his full body itchiness, as the two maintain eye contact.

The green creature’s muzzle starts growing into a sneering smile as it tracks Gearing’s flight path while taking in a massive breath.

‘Uh oh…’ the little blue pegasus says as his eyes go to their absolute widest.

A split second later the green ghoul’s head whips back, and a massive green blob appears on top of its head, then it flips its head forward and shoots out the gnarly misshapen blob of energy in his direction. Momentarily the green ghoul dims, and with its corona not blocking his view anymore, Gearing gets a clear view at the extent of his troubles.

This isn’t simply a ghoul. Or a green ghoul. Or a green ghoul that can heal its comrades at will, whenever it wants. No, that would be too easy.

This glowing green ghoul... is a unicorn.

Gearing twists midair and dodges the ball of magical plasma as he screams, “Fucking cheating horn headed bastards!” He’s far enough away that he swings around, intentionally, and keeps his eye on it as he tries to figure out what that thing could possibly do to him while still keeping the green ghoul in his peripheral vision. It could just be a ball of magical radiation, in which case he won’t really have to worry about it in the future. But given he’s never seen anything like it before, he’s erring on the side of caution just in case.

‘Trust nothing!’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head yells. ‘Because when you expect everything’s going to kill you, or try, you’re pleasantly surprised when you’re wrong.’

He gets his answer when it hits the right side of a suspended platform that has multiple crates on it. The support cables, made from steel wire rope, instantly snap on the one side, both of them. The platform starts falling down, as the metal is heated up to such a point that it’s turned instantly into slag. The couple of wooden crates that were caught in the small blast instantly combust, with a few of their contents likewise bursting into flames and in other cases outright liquefying. In the case of a few random objects, they don’t burn. They don’t melt. They don’t get blown away.

They turn into liquefied green magical goop that just falls down to the concrete and splats on the ground as the other burning debris smashes around it and bounces off in every practical direction.

Gearing’s eyes jump wide open as he whips his head back over to look at the green ghoul again. Just in time to catch its sneer as it seems to be charging up another one. “Oh to hell with this!” Gearing yells as he changes direction and decides to leave well enough alone.

‘If they want the damn hallway bad enough they can have it! I’ll find another way!’ the little blue pegasus comments as he keeps zipping around in the mental mind space of Gearing’s head in understandable panic. ‘This is beyond stupid!’

Gearing watches as the ghouls in the lower levels start scrambling up on top of various boxes and crates as they continue to chase after him. He circles around quickly, dodging another large green glowing orb of death that warps the metal support above and behind him, as he takes in a quick look of where they are. “Screw this. It’s time I started heading up anyway.” He grins at the ghouls down below and makes a rather rude gesture with his forelegs before he turns and starts shooting straight upwards. Towards the ceiling high above.

As he’s climbing, he notices a scaffold style staircase built into the one wall, and that it circles around and around until it gets to the top floor. Figuring that hoof traffic should have a way out, he starts vectoring that way as he starts cresting the top line of storage crates, boxes, and barrels. But, as he’s coming up, he can’t help but notice something odd.

The ghouls aren’t using the stairs to come up after him, regardless that it's easy for them to see where he’s heading.

He sees a few gather up and start scrambling over some crates at the base of the stairwell, at least a distance away from it, but they advance no further. He starts wondering if they know that it’s trapped or something, and quickly darts his eyes over it as he tries to spot any dead ghouls up its length so he knows where to avoid the same mistakes. The more he rises and the more he looks in vain for a corpse, the more his shoulder blades scream at him that something is wrong. And that’s when it hits him.

Literally.

As he’s still in a haze, focusing on the stairwell, while trying to ignore the pain in the left side of his face, and the general itchiness all over his body, several rounds start impacting into his body before he even hears the weapons that fired them. Gearing yelps and tries to dodge, but the effect isn’t nearly as significant as he would like. Because, unlike the walls outside and around The Core, the source of this fire isn’t coming from a line of turrets along a wall that he can just back away and get away from.

He’s flown up right into a kill zone.

All around him turrets pop out of the walls and ceiling as a variety of laser and projectile based defense turrets starts opening up on him. The lasers he directs away from himself with his wings, for most cases anyway. These are far underpowered compared to the turrets on the walls around The Core that tried to slag him outside of Chapel. But, where they had power, these turrest have numbers. And they also have something the other turrets didn’t have.

Friends that don’t care about his wings’ light bending capabilities.

His wings rapidly take damage as laser fire and bullets zip after him from nearly every direction. And it doesn’t take long before his wings have been damaged to the point that he’s having trouble staying aloft, and his angling becomes practically impossible to continue.

So he starts another nosedive to try and get away. But, unlike last time, he doesn’t actually have a choice in the matter this time. He’s already lost so much thrust that he’s coming down whether he wants to or not. At least this way he can control it and try to decide where he’s going to crash land, instead of just coming straight down onto the concrete.

And as he’s falling back down below the crest line of the storage supplies, the ghouls start springing towards him. A movement that is signaled by the glowing green unicorn. Gnashing their teeth as they move to intercept him, the ghouls get energized by another wave of magical radiation as they swarm in to meet him.

But this time Gearing doesn’t try to avoid them. This time he’s sick of being everyones bucking bag and he decides he’s going to share the pain. Because, in fact, he is in a lot of pain at the moment. So much so that he’s having trouble seeing straight as he increasingly feels more fuzzy the further he gets across the hall.

Several ghouls run ahead of him, and circle around where they are pretty sure he’s going to crash like excited dogs expecting a treat, which is near a couple sets of doors on the far side of the storage area. One set is directly opposite of the doorway he came in, but apparently still closed. And they start swarming and getting close as they prepare to welcome him with broken teeth, an endless hunger, and blind hateful rage.

As soon as Gearing dropped below a certain level, the turrets in the upper levels ceased firing. Even the ones that have a clear shot and Gearing is tremendously grateful for what he assumes is a safety measure to keep supplies from getting destroyed. As it’s left him with just enough of himself to do what the rage in his chest is really urging him to do.

Which is embracing the sweet caress of one of his greatest adversaries: Gravity.

Gearing angles and flaps his wings as he changes direction and turns himself into a guided brass missile. He’d been trying to avoid crashing before. Because hitting the ground at speed hurts. But after recent events, he’s not as worried about it anymore. In fact, he’s looking forward to it.

Because misery loves company, and right now he’s rather lonely.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

Gearing comes crashing down towards the ground, in a near nose dive that looks like he’s going to fall just short of the gathering group of ghouls. And, as they watch him, they prove that they aren’t entirely mindless as they start moving and shuffling as they start trying to intercept him again. However, as they are moving closer towards him, he banks, and changes direction.

Right into them.

Gearing comes crashing down on them at an angle that sends him down and through them, into the ground, yet lined up with the set of double doors behind the group. With all of his mass being hurled at them at a speed that would be dangerous in the best of times. Gearing himself proves to be the biggest safety violation in the entire complex, as he delivers his metric ton of flank right onto the gathered horde. Hooves first.

At the last second he flings his wings back, providing an even smaller silhouette as he plows into the gathered mass of burned monstrous ponies. His hooves, all angled to introduce themselves edge first, bite deeply into the flesh of those unfortunate enough to be directly in front of him, as he doesn’t even slow down as he travels right through the tightly packed group. But, because of his mass and inertia, even those that he doesn’t skewer, but are in the collision path anyway, end up crushed under the sheer bulk of his brass body. The shrill horrid inequine screams that escape their muzzles as he passes through the crowd changes in pitch as the ruckus increases.

Gearing hits the ground, but doesn’t even slow as much as he was thinking he would from the impact as a wave of black ichor, bone, and flesh fragments start sailing in a wake away from him. Reducing several of the cannibals to a little more than black smears on the ground as he grinds them into the concrete floor using his own body. But all of the disgusting black ichor doesn’t simply act as these creatures' life blood, there’s so much of it in one area that Gearing practically hydroplanes across the impact zone, and into the pair of doors behind all of them. But where Gearing had hoped to simply hit the doors, and either knock them open from the impact, and then enter, or even use the doors to bound off of and go in a different direction, neither of that happens. Instead Gearing is sent crashing through the doors with nearly his full speed intact, thanks to the black ooze that’s covering him helping him slide across the ground.

The doors were never designed to take that kind of impact, let alone the added force of the couple of ghouls that got caught between Gearing and them yet did little more than explode like balloons when the group crashed into the door, and Gearing simply continued through them all and only barely slowed down. The security doors cave in and warp unnaturally as Gearing hits dead center on the seam where the doors meet each other, but his body continues straight through them and twists the metal away from himself as the doors are nearly ripped off of their hinges. The maglocks at the top and bottom try their best to keep the door in its frame. But they aren’t designed for this kind of maneuver either, causing the top right one to break away from the doorframe entirely, along with the door, and that section of the door to bend into the beyond hallway with Gearing.

Gearing tumbles and crashes further down the hall, smacking into a wall that suddenly juts out, and screams as even more of his wings shatter from the impact on his back.

Instantly the alarms start sounding and lights begin flashing as the security door proves it wasn’t merely for looks. And as Gearing is trying to pick himself up off the floor and get away from the now opened doors, he can see the crowd of ghouls starting to enter through the hole and coming after him. They hiss and squeal and scream as they clamour over each other. Several of them are missing limbs. One is little more than a head as half of its chest is missing, and the entire hind portion of it is nowhere to be seen, yet it’s one remaining foreleg keeps flopping around as its jaw continuously snaps at him.

A chorus of robotic voices starts yelling out various declarations from the storage room Gearing just accidently escaped from.

“Looks like somepony needs their flanks kicked!”

“This area is under the protection of the Equestria Army, remove yourself or be prepared to kiss your flank goodbye!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just going to kill you!”

“Come out, identify yourself, and be incinerated!”

“Lawful use of lethal force has been authorized, and encouraged!”

“Not on my watch you zebra bastards!”

Almost half of the ghouls look behind them as they hear the weapons fire behind them, and the unique call of the green ghoul greets them. They swing around and start running after their new targets as bullets fly and laser fire starts picking up out in the staging area.

But, not all of the ghouls follow suit. Gearing rolls over onto his hooves, and starts pushing himself back up by leaning against the wall that is jutting out. As he starts trying to slide around it, and get away from the approaching ghouls, his body is screaming at him. His head especially so, and he’s having a massive problem hearing anything in general. His left ear feels like it’s muffled beyond belief. Like he’s stuck his head under a whole mattress or something similar.

And, aggravatingly, on top of all of that the itching feeling just keeps getting worse.

As the bullets and laser fire fly outside, so too does the giant green balls of death. And Gearing can see the light illuminating the whole area from the hallway he’s in as, apparently, the green ghoul has no qualms with engaging in close combat with an unknown amount of robotic security.

Gearing knows he is in no condition for trying to fight any of them, and turns and starts running again. His legs hurt. That impact was worse than he was expecting. Not in the sense of hitting the ground. He was expecting that to suck. In fact he actually managed to cushion his own blow from the fall by using his legs as a sort of shock absorber. And the ghouls helped in that regard as well as their bodies functioned nicely as a buffer between him and the concrete floor. But, still, his legs and shoulders are hurting tremendously from the fall. Especially the left foreleg’s shoulder.

But, knowing that the ghouls are right behind him, at least a few of them, he takes off at a run as fast as he can. And to make things easier on himself he reactivates his implant.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Activated

And it ends up helping him far more than he was expecting as his limping hops turn into proper gallops now that he’s not having to use so much strength to simply haul his own weight around. And it’s a good thing as the ghouls that have stayed the course to come after him, don't seem to have any such limitations. Even with the ones that are injured. The most bizarre of them being the one in the middle of the pack that’s not only missing one of their forelegs, but actually part of their shoulder where it used to attach to as well.

‘And now we know why people refer to them as the trotting dead,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head quips with a frown. ‘What are our odds of getting out of this one? Wanna roll for it again?’

Gearing starts running down the long hallway as he grumbles out loud, “The only dice I’m going to be playing with for my life are loaded!”

The little blue pegasus grins as he rattles a couple cubes and asks softly, ‘And how's that different from any other time?’

The itching feeling across his body starts becoming practically unbearable as the ghouls, unfortunately, start catching up to him. The hallway makes a sharp turn to the right, and instead of trying his luck with taking that turn, especially covered in so much ichor that seems to change its mind randomly if it wants to be sticky or slick at any given moment, Gearing jumps at the walls, and leaps off of them, conserving as much momentum as he can, as he changes directions ninety degrees to the right.

The ghouls seem to take his display of acrobatics as a challenge as they run down the hall and, in a couple cases, actually run along the inside of that outer wall as they don’t even break stride. But as he’s going, he notices that there are only maybe six of the monsters after him. The rest of them have either fallen behind or had intentionally turned around to help with the battle out in the sorting area.

‘Robots versus zombies.’ The little blue pegasus in his head scoffs. ‘That sounds like a comic book instead of reality.’

Gearing can’t help but laughing as the thought crosses his mind. “I’m living in a fucking comic book! The worst one ever! Zero out of ten stars, do not recommend!”

His morbid humor causes a grin to show up on his muzzle as his eyes start having a hard time focusing. He’s not sure if it’s the pain, or the damage he’s sustained, but he knows he’s not doing well at the moment. And, in a weird twist of events, he’s surprisingly okay with that. He’s not going to go down without a fight, he’s not allowed. But he’s going to make sure it’s going to be one for the record books.

Gearing sees a set of double doors coming up on his right, so he angles to run into the wall across from it. As he’s getting close, he jumps into that wall, legs first, and then springs off of it at the set of doors with his shoulder. And in doing so trying the same maneuver that he had done to get through the security door previously. And it works this time too. But not in a way that he wanted nor expected.

Because the doors aren’t nearly as heavy, and aren’t even locked, so he just threw way too much flank at them at once. The resulting practical explosion sends the metal doors sailing inside as he tumbles and rolls from his own overzealous attack. It takes him a few moments to get to his hooves again, and in that time the ghouls catch up enough to nearly grab him. He starts running again as he sees a collection of offices and other rooms ahead. And the itchy screaming feeling across his whole body gets worse and worse with every single step. Noticeably so. The hallway has a few offices on both sides, but then after a short distance of doors on either side of him the room opens up suddenly with a variety of simple tables and chairs around everywhere. But Gearing is running so fast, while paying attention to those behind him and keeping his tail out of the mouth of the lead ghoul’s snapping jaws, that he doesn’t realize, and doesn’t even have time to notice, the unknown puddle of goo covering the floor in front of him.

As soon as Gearing’s hooves step into the thick pulpy maroonish slime, his hooves slip out from under him on the stride and he starts tumbling and sliding all the way across the hall.

The ghouls that were right behind him likewise suffer the same frictionless fate, but they don’t seem nearly as concerned with it as he is.

At first.

As Gearing crashes through the collection of tables set up in this area where ponies would sit down for lunch during their breaks, the itchy feelings that have been steadily growing spontaneously explode across Gearing’s entire body. With an order of magnitude he can’t even comprehend. His vision flashes white as he slams into the cabinets on the other side of the entryway and starts bellowing in pain and rage. But, there’s something else going on besides the cabinets and tables he’d just broken. His whole body starts tingling as the nipping feeling runs laps all over his form and the hearing in his left ear entirely cuts out. He leans over, and starts trying to scramble to pick himself up, but he feels like he’s practically flying instead of being on solid ground. He has a sense of complete weightlessness as his mind reels in an indescribable fog. His vision itself starts fracturing and fuzing as his eyes are having a hard time to work at all. And things seem to be much much further away than he knows for a fact that they are. The chair he kicks away from himself with a forelg seems to be dozens of yards away from his perspective. His forelegs seem impossibly long to him. And his whole body feels like he has fallen on a cloud of some kind. Or, more accurately, like he’s fallen off of a cloud and is simply continuously falling, but without the added benefit of air resistance to tell him which direction he’s being taken.

And he does feel like he’s being taken somewhere. As surely as he was carted off by the pair of protectaponies not long ago, his very center feels like it’s moving. Though he doesn’t know where nor why or even how.

The only saving grace for Gearing is that he doesn’t seem to be the only one suddenly having trouble dealing with reality at the moment. The ghouls are too. His vision zips in and out like someone is playing with the focal length of a telescope while he’s looking through it. And, as he’s looking at the ghouls around and near him, none of them seem concerned with him any more. Several of them are writhing on the ground and seem to be screaming. As their mouths are open to absurd uncomfortable levels as they thrash around. Several of them kick and hit each other randomly as they are lost to the throws of whatever this is. As Gearing is watching, the one that had the missing foreleg sinks to the ground as a few of their bones literally fall out of their body near the wound. Another one kicks and thrashes around at things that only it can see but even so the movements are slowed as it seems to struggle against some unseen force.

Gearing starts trying to walk away from them, one weird wobbly and uncertain step at a time as the sense of feeling starts draining away from him entirely. The itchiness is still ever present and insane. But the pain he was feeling is disappearing. Quickly.

And that’s scaring the living shit out of him.

He reaches up to the left side of his head, to feel his face, as the pain is practically gone except for the eerie itchy feeling. He touches the area that has hurt so bad for so long, gingerly with his forehoof, just to make sure it’s still there. But even though he can’t feel him touching himself, his hoof still confirms it’s there. And as he pulls his forehoof away, in preparation to take another step, a shining bit of gold catches his eye. And as he’s slowly walking with his other three legs, and wobbling unsteadily, he looks down at his left forehoof. It takes him a few moments of focusing, as everything is fading and fuzzing like he’s looking through a thick fog embankment. But the shining brilliant color stays on his forehoof. In a sea of black ichor and maroon slime. But after a few moments, his eyes snap into focus enough to get a clear picture of what he’s seeing.

And it’s then that the real fear takes hold of his heart.

The black ichor on his left forehoof has decided to act like a glue in this particular occasion, and at the moment he has a shining bit of gold stuck to his forehoof embedded in that improvised glue. Although, he has enough wits about him to realize it’s not gold. It’s brass. It’s his brass. And, more importantly, it’s a lot of his brass. His eyes dart over it as quickly as they can, even as his eyes focus change on their own, as he tries to figure out what is going on. But, there’s no mistake. An entire section of his outer shell has come off on its own. Spontaneously and with no real warning. He slowly looks around at the ground under him, then over in the corner where he sees a filthy collection of clothes and blankets. He’d noticed it when he’d come crashing in, but thought it was nothing more than cast offs from ponies who didn’t want the added weight to carry as they made good on their escape. But, that’s not it. It’s not the contents from a luggage bag that they decided they didn’t want to worry about anymore. And that’s evident by the bones that are tangled within the damp gooey fabric. He looks down as he slowly picks up the pace to leave as he realizes the ponies that owned those clothes didn’t abandon them. Because in truth they’d never left. And they’d somehow been practically liquefied. Gearing looks over at the ghouls, and watches as wounds that the ghouls didn’t seem to care about open wider by the second, right before his eyes, as the ghouls thrash around and fight their own mental demons. Several have already stopped moving. The one that had the shoulder wound already has flesh missing from it’s skull. More flesh that is, as it’s melting off of their body and seems like even their body isn’t immune to whatever is eating at him.

None of them care about the harms of radiation, not even Gearing. In fact they’ve actually actively healed from it. But whatever this is is an equal opportunity maleficent and is actively trying to kill them all at the same time.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head stares off into space as he slowly sits down. ‘Bad. Run. I’m stuck. Don’t get stuck… we can’t get stuck…’

In Gearing’s mind’s eye he remembers a conversation he’d had in Chapel, and the words echo in his mind space as the world around him has gone quiet.

I need to get moving. Staying still is bad. I’ll get stuck. I don’t want to be stuck. So I have to get moving again… I have a promise to keep. I can’t if I get stuck.

Out of the deathly silence a long howling scream pierces Gearing’s mind space. It comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. It’s simultaneously a single voice, and many. A chorus of pain and torment and terror. It’s a high pitched single monotonous tone that could quickly drive most insane. But for Gearing, it’s a spur to the side that he needed.

“Run,” Gearing says flatly as he slaps the piece of gold back to the side of his face and holds it there as he starts scampering away on his other three legs. He looks back at the ghouls, and watches as they slowly succumb to the invisible onslaught. But, in the peripheral of his vision, and being worrying enough it actually draws his full focus, he sees his own wings. They aren’t replacing their crystals. They aren’t healing. Infact, some of the twisted pieces of metal that make up his wings have actually dulled in color And, as he’s watching, a piece that’d grown particularly dull simply falls away from him and clatters across the ground.

The little blue pegasus in his mind space gapes at it for a moment before it starts screaming in a voice that’s even louder than the monotone of terror filing his ears, ‘Run! You can’t stop now if you do you’ll never be able to keep the promise you made! This doesn’t count! So run!’

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

“Fucking enervation!” Gearing bellows in a moment of clarity as he starts going as fast as he can move. He starts huffing and throwing his body forward with every kick he can manage as he scrambles back the way he’d come and back out of the break room turned slaughterhouse. Gearing holds the pieces of himself to himself the best he can with one hoof as he’s running. He can’t risk using his wings, they’ve been too damaged to be able to reliably do it. On some level he wants to just cast the pieces aside, in order to try and run faster, but he’s not sure how bad the damage is to his face and if he casts them aside there’ll be no reattaching them this time. As he’s running away, he can feel the itchiness get to be more manageable. And the noise in his ears slowly starts subsiding. But, unfortunately, his hearing itself still hasn’t returned. The further away he gets, the more his body seems to be able to pull itself back together. And for his will itself to reassert itself to let him see normally.

Although he’s running away in a panic for his very life, he doesn’t simply backtrack entirely to the sorting room. As even on an instinctual level he could feel that’d be a most likely fatal mistake. So he took a different path, chosen mainly for its lower itch factor. And after some scrambling around trying to flee his invisible assailant, he stumbled across a stairwell that mercifully was also devoid of any apparent immediate dangers and he quickly ducked through the door and into it.

Gearing slowly climbs the stairs, looking around as quickly as he can, before he stops on a landing between levels and checks his PipBuck. He looks around at the map function, until he traces over to where that hellscape he’d just escaped from was. And he lets out a long low sigh of annoyance as the truth seems to stare him back in the face.

“That area was really close to The Core… We really did do it to ourself… fuck…” Gearing groans as he looks over the map. He slowly sits down on the stairs, trying to will himself to feel anything and everything he possibly can. He’s practically numb from that encounter, and that’s not a good sign. He’s said time and time again that pain lets you know you’re still alive, mostly as a morbid joke, but in this instance he’s really seeing the deeper truth of the statement. He digs through his bags and pulls out the couple potions he’d managed to squirrel away in case of emergencies. Normally he tries to save them, and just let his implants take care of most of the leg work. If he doesn’t take too much damage at once, it’s usually a good idea to save the potions for later. For when he does take a lot of damage in one fell swoop. Like getting shot down, blown up, and a couple tons of concrete dropped on his head. That was certainly worthy of a healing potion or two. As is the damage that’s been unleashed on him now.

He holds up the bulb as he prepares to remove the stopper from the top, but stops as he actually sees the contents in the dim light. Potions getting dull from enervation he'd heard of. It slowly saps their magical abilities. But what’s in front of him now, is beyond that. The liquid inside looks down right putrid. Like it’s fermenting and stewing in it’s own juices. He’d heard about potions going bad, but never thought it would look quite like this. It looks like someone decided to bottle up Discord’s diarrhea as some kind of disgusting souvenir. From what he’d learned, others simply throw out potions that look bad. Although, bad is a really subjective term. In this particular case, it’s objectively bad. Other’s haven’t wanted to risk it, because of concerns of it possibly making them sick. Gearing cracks a weak smile as he shrugs and stares at it. “Well, I can’t get sick… so that’s not a concern for me…” He pops the stopper out of the glass vial and holds it aloft in a blind toast to the universe, “For science!” and then quickly takes a swig from it.

And instantly regrets it, along with many of his life decisions that led him to this fateful moment.

His body shakes. His mane bristles. His tail shoots out backwards, and his mangled wings flop around impotently. The thick liquid has nearly turned the consistency of coagulated rotting blood, and it shoots out of his muzzle even faster than it went in. Gearing shakes his head and starts spitting off in various directions. He hangs his tongue out of his mouth, about as far out as it will go, and whips his head back and forth as he tries to shake the remnants off of it. He looks around, sees a grimy magazine sitting on the pile of trash overflowing from the trashcan in the corner, and he quickly grabs it. Gearing starts scraping the thick fluid off of his tongue with the sheets of paper he pulls out of the magazine, and casts each single piece off to the side before grabbing another one. After a bit he shoves several into his mouth at once, and starts swirling it around inside, wiping his mouth out with his own tongue using the paper, before spitting the filthy wads out. After several rounds of this Gearing groans out loud, “Bad tingle. Bad tingle. Bad tingle!”

He coughs and gags before he eyeballs the rest of the liquid inside of the potion bulb. “I have never found anything that actually tasted bad before… I’m almost tempted to keep this just to analyze it later and figure out what the hell is going on with it.” He puts the stopper back on it and looks over at the trashcan as he says, “Almost… but not bad enough to want to risk that again… Blech!” He chucks the potion over by the trash can, not even caring when it bounces off the top of the trash and slides between the trash can and the wall it’s sitting next to. Quickly two more potions join the first one, with the last one actually breaking on impact against the wall and smearing the surface down to the ground in a disgusting display of disregard for decency.

He quickly goes through his bag and pulls out the one magical healing bandage that he has, and starts unwrapping it, but then frowns as he bites into the end of it. He pops the end into his mouth, then lets out a sigh before pulling it out again and looking at it with utter disappointment carved into his features. “Magic’s been sucked out of or corrupted in this too… shit…” He tilts his head to the side, replaces the patch of brass he’d been holding to himself as close as he possibly can to where he’s sure it’s supposed to go on his face, and starts wrapping himself up again. He’s not doing nearly as good of a job as they had done previously, but that can’t be helped. He doesn’t have anyone else helping him, he only has the one bandage, and his wings are absolutely wrecked. But, even so, he does a pretty decent job of almost mummifying the left side of his face again. The act stings, and he cringes as he forces and wedges the loose pieces back in place. But in spite of the pain, he sees it as a good thing.

Pain is better than numbness. Pain means he’s not dead yet.

As he’s finishing going through and confirming that, yes, he’s completely out of any kind of healing supplies, he grumbles, “The hell am I gonna do now.” He sits and stares at his wings and the frown just grows as he mutters, “I’m still in one of those fields… aren’t I?” He gingerly reaches over and rubs on one of his wings, and can’t help but grunt as they are exceedingly sensitive, but none of them are regrowing even a stitch of crystal.

He checks his ammunition, making sure of what he still has left and brings out the rifle he’d gotten from Dolor. He’d not used it because he wanted to avoid fighting if at all possible. Because stealth was more on his side and would have a higher chance of success. Fighting just draws attention to yourself and brings the possibility that he’ll end up in just one long running engagement after another. Which is bad. Because his resources are limited. He’s already injured. He’s not healing at all. And his opponents’ resources are, for all practical purposes, unlimited given where they are and what he knows is in the vicinity.

It’s why he wanted in after all.

But now he’s out of options. And his hearing is especially dampened so he’s going to have to be extra careful as he makes his way out in whatever way he can finally accomplish. He heads up the stairs one slow hoofstep at a time, keeping an eye, and an ear out, the entire time. Though, instead of trying the next level up, he goes even higher. However, the top two levels that this stairwell have access to, have a keycard access that he doesn’t have with him. In a moment of desperation he even tried the identification card that had gotten him out of one sticky mess already. But, no dice. The doors beeped at him for his insolence and sent him on his way without opening. But the next floor under those was unlocked and easily opened. And, thankful to make any progress, Gearing takes it without question.

This floor is another series of offices. But, they seem to be used for clerks and other administration tasks, judging by the large collection of horizontal file cabinets lining the walls of the walkway. Maybe some sort of record keeping section Gearing ponders. And then can’t help but smiling as he sees a sign on the wall pointing in both directions along the hall he’s walking near declaring ‘Records: Receiving || Records: Shipping’ with arrows pointing in opposite directions as he continues on down the way towards the receiving area. At the end of the hall, he sees an open area surrounded by glass with light coming in from the other section that isn’t quite the same level nor color as what's in the office space. He adjusts his path, and peeks into the strangely colored room, and can’t help but walk in further.

The manager, judging by the plaque on the desk, had their office set up with a glass wall so they could look over and down at the receiving area where storage containers are set up and awaiting someone to do something with them. As Gearing walks over towards the window and looks down, he realizes that he knows that area very well. It's the location of the battle that he’d just ran away from. And, judging by what he’s looking at now, it’s a good thing he did.

The entire area is completely demolished. The nice neatly stacked crates, barrels, and boxes have been knocked over, scattered around and, in a lot of cases, burned, scorched, torn apart, or out right exploded. The support structures in several locations have been warped by fire, weapons fire, and, if his estimates are correct, more of that glowing green unicorn's death ball attacks. All over the floor down below there are pieces of dead robots. Some of which had been slagged to molten metal. The protectaponies were easily out matched. But to see some of the military grade hover bots laying in heaps gives Gearing a moment of pause. And there’s more than a couple. But, despite everything going on down there. There’s no more fighting currently. A few robots have taken to try and reorganize the place. But the fighting has ended. But the entire thing bothers him as the bots doing the reorganizing are not any of the combat capable ones. Only the basic protectaponies that are normally used for manual labor. Like the ones that carried Gearing through the security checkpoints. And it nags at him.

‘Where’s the green bastard?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as he smashes his face against the glass in Gearing’s mind space and tries to look around frantically. ‘That fucker wouldn’t go down easy, and I’m not going to believe it’s dead until I see the corpse myself…’

And that’s the ruffle in his feathers.

“It’s still in this place somewhere… it probably moved on elsewhere. I don’t know if it’s smart enough to try and hide from the machines, or simply chased after them. They’re not exactly stupid but they’re hard to predict too…” Gearing groans as he says, “I doubt we’ve seen the last of that green fucker.”

He starts rummaging around in the office, looking for anything that he can find and use that might help him. There are several medical boxes set into the walls, as per Ministry of Peace code and guidelines, and Gearing quickly raids each and every one of them. Their locks barely prove to be an annoyance to Gearing let alone actually stopping him. However, all of the potions in them have turned so far rancid that in a few instances the caps blew open and spilt its putrid contents all over the inside of the box. There’s plenty of other medical supplies in them though. Most of them seem fully stocked otherwise. Including some tiny scissors and bandages. The drugs that are in them, the Buck, Mint-als, Med-X and others, are going to be pretty much no use to Gearing. But they might be useful to someone else. And there’s no point in leaving them here. This is a death trap. And if he makes it out, he can make sure they end up in the right hooves. Thankfully the bandages had been sealed in bits of plastic, so that even though the potions had exploded all over them like some kid’s volcano experiment, they are still salvageable. Although he can’t help from sighing as he sees the icon on the side of them informing him of their magical enchantments, and knowing that they’re currently lying to him.

Garing smirks as he whispers to himself, “I wonder who I could sue for false advertising…” He closes the last box and heads over to the door marked ‘Supply Closet’ as he hopes maybe something in there is useful.

But, again, the room ends up being full of broken hopes and desires. Plenty of supplies, but nothing he really needs. Gearing uses his tools and breaks into the tool cabinet that’s in there by picking the absurdly easy lock. He goes drawer by drawer trying to find something, anything, that might help him. In other circumstances, he might have a use for some of these things. At least as spares. But for now there’s basically nothing he needs. The closest things he finds that he might find a use for is a half empty can of turpentine, which is only useful because he decides to grab the couple packets of Wonderglue. If he makes a mistake, he can use the turpentine to clean himself off. But, he’s not even sure how the Wonderglue will be useful. All he knows is that he doesn’t have any, it’s really useful for a lot of things, and he’s sick of coming up empty with all of his searching.

So he takes them anyways because he needs a win, for morale reasons if nothing else. Even as petty of a ‘win’ as this may be.

After stowing away his meager findings he continues down the twisting hallways. He wants out. He wants to go up. And, most importantly, he wants to get as far from The Core as possible. No one’s said anything about The Core being responsible for Enervation. Except him that is. But he doesn’t think many, if any, have made it down this far. And Dandy herself was extremely skeptical of it. But now that he’s this close, and this deep, to run into an enervation field so strong it ripped ghouls apart simply by being within it? And it was doing a rather terrifyingly impressive job of doing the same to him to boot. So it doesn’t simply react to only organic materials. That would simply be too easy for him. But, given the number of robots running around, he’s sure the field has no effect on them. And the thought, as weird as it is, and the morbid place it comes from, puts a smile on his muzzle. As, if nothing else, this is yet more proof that he’s more pony than he is machine. The field seems to affect life itself. In all of its forms. Him included.

‘But I’m not going to just keep jumping into Enervation fields to show that it can fuck me up, just to prove a point! Shooting myself is a bad enough idea!’ the little blue pegasus says as it starts kicking up tuffs of mind cloud. ‘People suck… and that shit hurts… and people suck for not believing me unless I do… and they suck even worse if they still don’t believe me afterwards.’

“Well… if Handy can learn, anyone can, right?” Gearing says aloud as he trots down the remarkably clean hallways and chuckles to himself. As he’s traveling through he keeps looking around and taking in the sights. It’s rather mundane and non impressive looking. A typical office. But what is remarkable is the condition of it. Yes, there are scattered papers here and there. And there's still trash in the trash cans. But the place isn’t destroyed. It’s like it’s frozen in time. Work left abandoned in the middle of it. And the minimal amount of dust makes Gearing ponder about its air filtration system. The place looks more like they all left for lunch, or suddenly staged a walkout, instead of what one would think about being caused by the end of the world plus two centuries. The place hasn't been cleaned up, so obviously this area doesn’t have any maintenance bots. Whether that’s because they have been destroyed, put in stand-by mode, or there’s some kind of protocol keeping them out of the office he’s not sure.

‘Maybe they kept them out because of all the records? A bot would just throw away any paper it finds, and that’d be murder for a buracracy with this much red tape,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head offers as it flutters around and snoops about as much as he can.

“Maybe,” Gearing verbally acknowledges as he reaches another door. But, this one isn’t like the others in this office. This one’s got a maglock at the top, and a button to push to open it up outwards into wherever it’s going to. He hits the button, and the light above turns green and allows him to open the door with little to no resistance. After poking his head out, he realizes that it’s another long hallway, one way heading back towards The Core, the other heading in the exact opposite direction. But, because of a turn he can’t see how far it goes or if it dead ends. He quickly grabs a trash can, tips it over, and puts it in the doorway to prop the door open as he’s stepping out. From the hallway’s side, the door requires a key card to open. And he doesn’t want to get trapped in this section of the death maze with no way out if he runs into anything up ahead. Because going back towards The Core is not an option now. Not until he can figure out a way of dealing with that enervation field. Or at least mitigating its effects against him.

Once he’s sure the door won’t just slam closed behind him, he hurries down the hallway. Down the entire length are doors set into the sides exactly like the one he’d left from. This could get maddening to anyone that didn’t have a frame of reference and just got dumped in here. Like a never ending nightmare. Outside of each door is a plaque explaining what the door protects and conceals. But it’s in some kind of code that he doesn’t understand. A pair of alphanumeric digits a dash, and another pair. Some four digit code that Gearing can only guess at to mean departments or sections. To Gearing this one seems like it’s pretty specific to this building in particular and is probably part of some beurocrat’s wet dream. But, like the other door, these doors all have security pass card slots as well. And, again, he doesn’t have one. As he continues on, peeking in through the small window panes here and there that have metal security mesh, he starts picking up his pace. Looking in is giving him nothing except more views at similar offices. And they’re all abandoned. He starts going faster and faster as he whips his head back and forth to look in. He doesn’t need another office. He needs an escape out. Preferably a set of stairs going up. But, despite any hopes, he doesn’t see any exit signs. And he only glances in the windows just enough to be able to see if it’s a stairwell or not, beyond that, he keeps going, and he doesn’t even break stride.

And the fact that the screaming in his head has disappeared, and the itching feeling covering his body has subsided tremendously, provides even more motivation to keep going. He might still be in an enervation field, at least a smaller, weaker one, but either way, the less of that nonsense he has to deal with, the, relatively, happier he is.

After turning back and forth to the left or the right as the hallway snakes away from where he’d come from, he finally makes another couple of turns, and, despite the dire situation, a genuine smile crosses his muzzle. And the green glowing sign over the door is his personal harbinger of happiness.

Emergency Exit

As Gearing runs up to it he notices another sign on the wall next to the door that declares: ‘Emergency Exit Fire Escape. Be careful and follow the path to the fastest escape route.’

Gearing stops dead in his tracks and starts examining the sign very closely. Underneath the sign is a map of the maze he’s in. The huge grid of various shapes becomes a blur that he can’t really make out nor distinguish from each other without paying careful attention. He knows this isn’t the entire area. It’s probably not even the entire sector. But despite the jumble he can make out the receiving docks area, it’s the only large wide open area on the map. But what he sees very clearly, is the red line on the map with a mare trotting across the top of it. The word box next to her declares: ‘In case of emergency, follow me to safety!’ Gearing lifts up a hoof, and slowly starts tracing the lines, counting out which turns, in which directions, and about how many doors or intersections he has to go through along the way. He follows the red line from the right side of the paper, down and to the left, and then stops. A scowl crosses his face as he slowly hangs his head and slides his hoof off the sign.

‘Fucking figures,’ the little blue pegasus groans as it flops down on a mind cloud. ‘Wanna wake me up when shit stops sucking?’

Gearing looks up at the map again and traces along the edge where someone had ripped off a portion of the sign. It was done quickly, with haste. And he can’t help but feeling a little bitter about it. Because now he doesn’t know where it leads to, or how many more turns he’ll have to make. And it’s because someone decided to vandalize the sign.

‘Well… maybe someone ripped it off and took it with them, because they wanted to get out but their memory sucks? Not everyones’ is as good as ours,’ the little blue pegasus offers with a shrug.

And, oddly enough, that actually does make Gearing feel better. Because that would mean someone used the sign to get out of here. And even if it means he’s going to have a harder time. If they got out, he’ll accept that. Especially since he didn’t stop the need for the emergency in the first place.

The little blue pegasus in his head uses his forehooves and gathers up a bunch of mind cloud and then buries his face in it as he groans, ‘Karma sucks…’

“I’ll live though…” Gearing mutters as he turns to the side and checks the door.

And, like he’d expected, the door had already been opened. If it had an alarm on it, it had been triggered long ago and was no longer a problem. He can’t help but smile as he looks down and sees where someone had dropped a dictionary in between the door and the frame to keep it open. And after getting to the other side of the exit door, he can see why. There’s no way back in. This was meant as an emergency exit, and not an entrance, so there’s not even a key card access slot. Gearing thanks the kind soul who’d left the book, and carefully replaces it.

As a bibliophile, it irks him that the book is being used in ways that it was never intended in being used. But, being used as a lifesaving device seems fitting. And, who knows, maybe one day it’ll help someone else again. Gearing looks around, as he’s in the next section, and frowns as he has to go down the stairs as this particular section doesn’t have any more going up. And after a couple sets of stairs going down, with no other doors, he finally comes to the fire exit door at the bottom. And this one is being propped open with a large trash can full of debris. Whoever came through here, wanted to make sure that that door didn't close on anyone else.

And when he steps through he finds himself walking through another office. But this one has several differences compared to the ones previously. It still has that remarkably well preserved feel to it. But this one has been actively cleaned as well. There’s not a spec of trash anywhere inside. And the trash cans have all been emptied. Except the one trash can sitting in the emergency escape staircase. Gearing double checks and can’t help but smirk as he visualizes the line and confirms that, yes, the bots seem to be set on a protocol with a bounding box that excludes the stairwell. Which is probably why the previous individuals did what they did, otherwise the bots would have taken the item and let the door close.

But this presents another problem, and he can hear it even with his muffled hearing. Mechanical hooves step in time one after another and patrol around the office. He quickly zips among the maze of cubicles, arching towards the door on the far side of the room where the map had told him to go but has to keep changing directions to avoid the patrols. He’s not sure how many of the protectaponies are in here, but he knows its at least four. And they aren’t exactly going to be happy with him being here if his hunch is correct. He follows along and listens carefully as he hears the automatons make their rounds of looking over the office. At least as much as he can with his left ear practically dead and his right ear toned down. He’s not sure if he just came in at a bad time, or if they are simply stuck in cleaning mode until someone tells them to go away. But, either way, he’s stuck in the room with them until he can make it to the door he needs. Quick peeks up, by rearing up just enough to look over the cubicles, confirms that he's on target to get there. But it also confirms that three of the bots had decided to congregate over by the door. The exact door that he’s trying to get out through.

He ducks into one of the cubicles as a fourth protectapony walks by and gets close to him by walking down the perpendicular path in front of him. He curls up under the desk and pulls the chair in close to himself as he starts straining his ears to listen, but otherwise he goes deathly still. After a few seconds, and the steps of the bot pass him by and actually start getting just a bit quieter as it’s walking away, Gearing starts getting impatient, annoyed, and, unfortunately, desperate. He pushes the chair away from himself and quickly starts rummaging through the desk as quietly as he can. He glances at the pictures on the desk, of some unicorn mare and her young colt, as he starts slowing down. The mare and the colt are in most of the pictures, with the colt alone taking up the remainder of them. Digging around in the large drawer to the right, and finding a large purse, confirms that the mare in the picture is likely to be the one holding and playing with her son. And he can’t help but feeling a pang in his chest. He slowly looks up and draws his eyes over the peach colored mare as she’s cradling the little blue colt with one of her forelegs in one picture as she’s practically treating him like a foal. In another they are dressed up for Nightmare Night in paired costumes as she’s dyed her coat white and black and looks like a milk cow with a pair of toy horns on her head. Which looks even more ridiculous considering her own horn is far bigger than the other two and now she has three and a big brass bell on a necklace around her neck, as the young colt is dressed up as a cowpony complete with a Stetson and rope lasso. In another there’s her looking over the sleeping colt while he’s sprawled out on the bed in a ridiculous manner, but the look on her face is pure contentment and adoration. Which, Gearing realizes, is probably why she wanted to save the moment in time with the picture.

Gearing lowers his eyes as he sighs. He knows that look. He’s been the target of it himself, and always acted like the constant attention was so embarrassing. His mind starts wandering but quickly he shakes his head as he goes back to snooping through the drawers again as he mutters quietly, “There’ll be time to kick myself for being an ungrateful bastard later…”

While he was hoping to find something to use to cause a distraction, he can’t find a bottle. Empty or otherwise, and on some level he regrets not keeping those putrid healing potions for just such an occasion. Inside the purse he finds a mug, and a smile breaks out across his muzzle as he breathes, “Ah hah!” But, as he pulls it out, the smile falls off his face as he sees the side of it.

‘World’s Best Mom!’

Gearing stares at it for a few moments, then looks up at the picture of the pair. He carefully sets it back into the purse as he whispers, “I’ve fucked over one mom bad enough… I don’t think so… there’s gotta be something else…” After coming up empty in the side drawers, he uses his tools and quickly opens the top center thin drawer. Inside is a lot of writing implements, paperclips, and other assorted office supplies. The paperclips he laps up with his tongue and quickly spits them into his bag. They aren’t exactly bobby pins, but they’ll work in a pinch. Then, in the same tray, he finds a couple bobby pins, which actually does bring a smile back to his face.

Which only grows wider as he sees the little red hunk of metal behind the drawer’s organization tray as he’s grabbing the bobby pins.

He opens it up a bit more, then fetches out the still shiny polished red stapler. He gives it a bit of a feel as he measures and approximates its weight by its heft. It’s definitely one of the good ones. A decently put together older model that’s been the staple in many offices. For good reason. It’s reliable and he’s never heard of one breaking, even from falling or getting knocked off the desk repeatedly. Its design is rather superb. And apparently the mare who sat in this cubicle thought so as well, given she not only put it inside of a locked drawer, but pushed it to the back of the drawer to hide it from prying eyes.

“Some individuals cling to the strangest things,” Gearing mutters with a chuckle. He leans out into the walkway of the cubicles and looks at the far end of the collection of offices. And then he starts rocking side to side as he winds up for the throw. He leans back, and then leans far forward and whips the stapler like a bullet straight down the walkway towards the area where the higher ranked administration staff apparently had their personal offices.

And Gearing’s eyes go wide as his jaw drops at what he’s unintentionally unleashed.

True he meant to throw it. True he meant to cause some noise so that the bots would go to investigate. True he was expecting to break or damage something.

What he wasn’t expecting was the stapler to fly straight through the window to the manager office, causing the entire thing to cascade down in a ruckus that even the dead could hear. And he certainly wasn’t expecting the stapler to keep going until it smashes into the display cabinet in said manager’s office. Sending that glass raining in and down as the stapler passed right through it. And he certainly didn’t expect the stapler to hit the objects inside of the display cabinet, and cause a avalanche of awards and models as they all fall, break the glass shelf they are sitting on, and cause a shower of glass and breaking knickknacks as the entire shelf display implodes in on itself in an explosion of glass and mirror-like material.

“A disturbance has been detected. Commencing search.”

“Scanning for malicious messes.”

“Do not be alarmed. Order will be resumed soon. Please stand by.”

Gearing huddles under the desk again, after recovering from his shock, and pulls the chair close to him. And, in this case, it proves to be a good idea as one of the mechanical equine doppelgangers walks right down the walkway by him as it heads towards the back office, while the others take their own routes. As soon as it’s past him enough, Gearing slips out behind it, whips around the corner, and performs a silent stampede straight for the door.

As he’s getting to the door, the protectaponies are throwing a fit about the mess he created and start cleaning it up together. And he can’t help but smile and dip his head in thanks towards the cubicle of the mare whose stapler he’d borrowed. Though he can’t help but snicker at the thought that shit like that is why she didn’t want to loan her stapler out to anypony and why she was so protective of it. Once in the next hallway, he rocks his forehoof side to side as he mentally goes over the map again, and then points to the left. He looks that direction and mutters, “thataway,” before he turns and starts creeping down the hallway.

Gearing follows his mental map as he tries to make sure he stays out of sight of any of the automatons that are still functioning in this area of the complex. And his ego gets boosted here and there as he comes across various doors that have the same ‘Emergency Exit’ written on it that leads to the next section. Right along the path his mental map has laid out. He would really like it better if more of the path had him going up, but right now he’ll take what he can get. But things start getting more nerve wracking for him the longer he walks. Yes, there are automatons everywhere. And, yes, their frequency is increasing. And, unfortunately, it’s not always basic protectaponies as hovering maintenance bots start making an appearance and showing up frequently as well.

The problem is that he’s getting near the end of his map. And, despite how much he’d like to the contrary, he hasn’t found another one.

And the reason becomes obvious as at one of the security doors he sees where the wall was damaged. In the exact shape of the map that led out. As much as he’d like one for himself, he really doubts he's going to find another. As whoever had left before him had been grabbing their own on the way out. It’s more than a little selfish, he realizes this. But at the same time he can’t entirely blame them. For the most part the path is pretty well laid out in an intuitive manner that having a map isn’t really necessary. The fact that he’s gotten this far just from a glance is proof of that much. But, still, he’d like to know what’s coming up. In this particular situation, not knowing can literally be the difference between life or death because, unlike those that used to work here, he doesn’t actually belong. So he can’t simply walk past security checkpoints.

Although, he does have a weird nagging inclination to just walk up to one of the robots and ask them which way out or if they could escort him out. But, that gets squashed. In the old days, maybe. But not now. Whoever is in control of The Core’s systems has eyes and ears everywhere in the shape of security nets. All it is going to take is for Gearing to have the misfortune to come across one that they are actively looking at, before all hell breaks loose for him, and he knows it. Especially this close to the core.

Gearing lets out a sigh as he walks through the section of hallway that empties out into the great void of the ripped map. From here on out he’s not going to have a clue what’s coming up. But, thankfully, he’s not having that much of a problem finding his way. He just has to get to the emergency exit that’ll take him to the surface and he should be fine.

‘Let's hope the emergency surface exit doesn’t take us to The Core… That would be bad,’ the little blue pegasus in his head says with a frown.

“Oh shut the hell up with that!” Gearing growls at himself aloud.

The little blue pegasus starts rattling some dice as he says, ‘Don’t blame me, you know how bad our luck is.’ He tosses a couple of the cubes against a wall and watches as they roll back, ‘Blame the dice…’

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

Unknown Index Reference. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

--== E R R O R ==--

73 Persistent Threats

Gearing snorts and grumbles as he starts walking faster through the complex maze of halls and rooms, even though he’s in completely unknown and uncharted territory. He knows it’s absurd, but he’s getting really annoyed again. The itching is constant, even as faded as it is compared to before, but at least the screaming is gone from his mind. He glances at his wings and finds that, unfortunately, they still aren’t recovering from the damage that had been done to them by the ghouls and the turrets. But at least as far as he can tell, he’s not getting any worse. Though the sting he’s feeling in the left side of his face has returned. And as odd as it sounds, he actually sees that as a good sign.

He follows the signs through the hallways a bit longer, in the area that’s in the section of the map that he doesn’t know about. Even his PipBuck is no help as there are layers and layers of floors blocking everything at once. After making a sharp turn he sees another set of double doors. And these had been security doors. Or, at least, they still are. But judging by the damage on them, they aren’t going to stop much anymore. At some point the doors had been bucked repeatedly and almost, if not actually, been kicked in despite what the mag locks had tried to do. The mag locks themselves have been ripped out of their reinforced casings, and the right side door is barely hanging on by the bottom hinge while the door on the left is warped in a variety of directions and is as wide open as it can be as the metal along the bottom actually grinds into the concrete floor.

But the worrying part is, the damage that had been done, had been done on both sides. And the damage on the side facing the massive room Gearing is stepping into also contains signs of weapons fire damage. Especially laser and, in a couple cases, Gearing’s sure some kind of explosive. Like a rocket or a missile judging by the blast pattern. It doesn’t take Gearing long before he confirms his own suspicions and fears. Not far from the door is a destroyed Sergeant class hover bot, with its body a mangled mess. And scattered out in a semi circular pattern are entire groups of protectaponies that had been destroyed and left where they fell. But there are corpses as well. In several instances, the corpses were obviously ponies. Ones that had the misfortune to run into an area where they weren’t supposed to be, and security didn’t take kindly to that. Among the bodies are a few ghouls. Ranging from various levels of freshness.

Tick

Tick

CLICK

Gearing groans as he says softly, “That’s why they kept taking the maps off the walls… it had the safe path to go that security wouldn’t chase after them… Fuck!”

‘Snake eyes,’ the little blue pegasus says as he folds his ears down angrily and snatches the dice back up off the mind clouds.

Gearing starts walking around as he stares at the storage facility. Unlike the area he’d been in earlier, these don’t have massively high ceilings. Maybe fifteen feet. Twenty tops. But there are boxes everywhere and line of sight is cut down to pretty much a few paces in any direction. All across the floor there are markings with different codes and lines and arrows. And the boxes all seem to be stacked neatly within bounding boxes that have codes written at the bottom. An interesting system that Gearing can’t help but looking at and wondering about as he walks past them. But the tour gets cut short when he starts hearing the metallic hoofs of automatons.

Very close to him.

He zips over behind some of the crates, and does his best to play keep away as he keeps the stack of boxes between himself and the protectapony as they both simultaneously walk clockwise around it, but on opposite sides of the stack. And, as soon as Gearing’s in the next walking path, he quickly scoots away as he tries to find the next door that he should be going through. It doesn’t take him long before he realizes he has several options, and none of them are particularly helpful. There are markings and codes along the doors, but there’s nothing for a normal pony to decide which way to go. And all of them are labeled as exit, except the one he came through.

To make matters worse, he can clearly see where there have been weapons fired and impacted along the various walls. Despite the repair and clean up attempts by some of the bots. And that just increases his anxiety by the second as he mentally pictures the various doors and tries to figure out which one he should go through.

‘The one furthest away would be what would make the most sense, at least for what we want, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that the actual exit is that way either,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as it looks around and rattles the dice. ‘Shall we roll for it?’

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, getting fucked any way I go,” Gearing mutters singsongy as his eyes dart around. He quickly zips to another lane of boxes, and hides behind them as he hears the tell tale sound of a hovering bot’s talisman keeping it aloft and approaching. He again plays keep away with himself, but as soon as the hovering bot has its line of sight obstructed, Gearing slides over to the first door he sees and he looks around as he says, “I’ll just peek in and see which way I need to go…”

He looks around with a quick shake of his head before he grabs the door and pulls it open. A smile breaks across his muzzle as it easily opens and he slips in and spins around as he backs up and tries to make sure nothing saw him. “Okay now I just gotta make sure not to be seen while I look this area over…”

Gearing turns around as he still has his eyes on the door, but after a couple seconds he brings his gaze back forward to see where he’s going, and instantly stops in his tracks in the short hallway that he finds himself in that T’s only a few paces away.

Not far in front of him are several boxes moving around as they are carried and carted off. Gearing stays perfectly still as a couple bots walk by a short distance away from him going both left and right down the hallway perpendicular to the one this door leads to. They are busy going about their own business, walking straight and not turning their heads because they have no real reason to do so as they transport the crates back and forth. Gearing’s not even sure how many are in that hallway, but considering he can see two or three at any given time the answer is ‘too fucking many’.

Gearing very slowly starts walking in reverse moving as slowly as he can as he tries to pretend to be invisible. And, after he’s taken a step backwards, and is starting on another one, a protectapony transporting a box comes into his field of view, and wipes the smirk right off of his face as it starts to turn into the hall with him, but then stops as it sees him.

Gearing and the robot stare at each other for a fraction of a second before the bot starts beeping a communications code. The moment it does, several other bots turn and look at what it seems to be talking about.

Gearing grins widely and waves with his forehoof as he says, “Uh… hi guys… is this the way to the bathroom? I really gotta pee.”

The robot that’d seen him lowers its crate as it says out loud, “Event logged…”

“No, really, don’t stop what you’re doing. I don’t wanna interrupt; you don’t have to show me.”

“Unauthorized individual detected in restricted area. Alerting security,” the robot finishes and starts walking towards Gearing.

“Awww come the fuck on!” Gearing bellows as he starts scrambling backwards.

Then the hallway beyond begins cascading with a series of monotone voices as they repeat and pass along the message in a verbal confirmation.

“Intruder detected.”

“Intruder detected.”

“Intruder detected.”

“Intruder detected.”

“Intruder detected.”

“Intruder detected.”

“Can’t we talk about this?!” Gearing asks as he looks over his shoulder at the door behind himself. A beam shot at him by the closest bot, and only missing him because he’d already set his legs far enough apart to sway and dodge it, answers the question. “Ahhh piss on you too!” Gearing yells as he jumps back through the door and starts running along the wall as the robots start marching down the hallway and into the main storage room.

As the robots open the door, and continue beeping and sending out their alert message, a hovering bot changes direction and charges as quickly as it can from the nearby maze of containers as it screams, “I can’t wait to find you so I can kill you as a personal favor to Princess Celestia!”

As Gearing is getting near the next doorway, the door opens, and a group of protectaponies come in, all looking around and beeping and, most annoyingly, declaring the same, “Intruder detected,” message the ones behind him had started. Word spreads throughout the bots in the room rather quickly as the room becomes a loud din of activity that makes it hard for Gearing to even figure out what’s going on. He starts looking over his shoulder and instantly starts jumping and skipping around to dodge the laser fire from the bots coming out of the side doors and following from behind. He’s faster than them, no problem, but the amount of fire coming in starts getting concerning especially since he knows there’s more within the maze of delivery crates.

Deciding that a diminished visibility distance would hinder them even more than it would him, he jumps down one of the side foot paths as soon as he can and starts zigging and zagging between the boxes and stacks. He figures that if they can’t see him, they can’t shoot him. So he’ll have the advantage even if he stumbles across one at point blank. Given that more protectaponies seem to keep coming in from the doors on the far left, he’s pretty sure that entire thing is connected and is just chock full of problems for him at the moment. So, instead, he aims for the far end, the ones that are in the direct path that he actually wants to go in, and hopes for the best. To get there he has to take a longer stretch of walkway than he’s comfortable with, given the number of bots trying to find and shoot at him, but he doesn’t run into any others even though he can hear them running around.

At least until he turns the corner and runs straight into the side of a protectapony that was in the middle of setting down its cargo into its designated spot. And was, objectively, minding its own business at the time.

Gearing jumps at it, deactivates his implant, and simply stampedes over it as he continues down the way he’d turned.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

The protectapony gets knocked over onto its sides, and then ends up getting kicked and partially dragged as it rolls over and over like a barrel under Gearing’s hooves as he runs over it. As soon as it slams into a stack of crates, and is no longer an obstruction for him, he reactivates his implant and redoubles his efforts.

Gearing looks back and down at the robot as multiple limbs are bent at awkward angles and pieces are scattered around it. The transparent guard that goes over this model of protectapony’s face has been broken and shattered, exposing the bare circuitry underneath. The robot flails and kicks its limbs feebly as it squeaks and squeaks in alarm in code before it starts yelling, “Alert! Assistance requested! Alert! I have been assaulted! Heavy damage received!” It flails around a bit with one of its legs falling off with the attempt and it screeches, “Emergency! I’ve been assaulted! Help! Maintenance required! Alert! Violent intruder discovered!” It flops over on its side, staring in Gearing’s direction, and yells, “Warning! Damage to government property is subject to fines, imprisonment, a stern lecture, and or death by the authorized use of lethal force!”

“I’m sorry it was an accident! I’m just trying to leave!” Gearing yells before jumping to the side and breaking line of sight with the distraught robot.

‘Did that robot just threaten to kick our flank and kill us for that?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks with an amused smirk.

“Pretty much,” Gearing chuckles as he zips through the stacks of supplies.

When he goes through an intersection, where he can clearly see a door on the far side near him, a hovering bot nearly crashes into him as it charges down its own lane. But as it sees him, it raises its flamer and starts spewing a large corona of fire at Gearing. Gearing, seeing the trail of fire quickly catching up to him, jumps up and grabs one of the boxes as he’s passing it and spins around to use it to block the waves of flames coming after him. He’s not so much worried about getting burnt, as painful as that is, but he doesn’t want his equipment to get trashed. Because then he’s sure he’ll really be screwed. The box is a lot heavier than he was expecting, but it’s big enough that it mostly blocks what he’s worried about as he continues backwards. He tosses it up in the air with a flick, spins around, and apple bucks the box at the bot as it keeps spitting fire at him.

And in this case the box’s mass was certainly useful as it crashes into the bot and they both go tumbling backwards as fire shoots in a variety of directions. The wooden crate had already started burning, and was well on its way to a full blaze before Gearing chucked it at the hovering murder bot. But with the mindless automaton shooting off its flamer in wide arcs, other boxes start catching fire too. As Gearing is running, the alerts the robots are spouting off start changing to warnings about the fire. And as he gets to the doors he can see that several of the bots have actually stopped pursuing him entirely as they try to put out the fire that one of their own had actually started.

Gearing quickly heads through the door, and quickly makes it to the hallway that runs perpendicular to this door’s entry, as he tries to listen for anyone else in this particular area. But he hears nothing.

However, with his ears as damaged as they are, that’s not saying much.

He zips around the corner and arbitrarily decides to go to the right. For one thing, that helps him put even more distance between him and whatever hallway it is father back the other way that is full of protectaponies. And another it seems to be a little different with panels on either side of the walls that he hopes means this is more of a maintenance area. But that old cold feeling starts showing up between his shoulders the further he travels and the more attention he pays to the large panels. Because, they seem to be just a bit too big to be maintenance access panels.

And then the area rocks from an explosion powerful enough to throw the doors open that he’d run in through and sends super heated air rushing down the hallway in a shockwave towards Gearing. As the wave is passing over him, Gearing snuffs at the air, and his eyes go wide as he yells, “Boom?! That was ordinance?! Why the hell are those bots using flamers in explosive ordinance storage?! Who the fuck is running this place?!” Gearing starts running even faster as a few more smaller explosions take place. Because he’s not sure what’s all in there. On one side, he’s sad that he didn’t take the time to check the boxes. To see if anything was useful. Because some high grade explosives would be amazing right about now. But, now he needs to get his distance. Another explosion rocks the area, and this time a white fumed smoke exits into the hallway with him as he’s running. And the alerts spread as the sirens wail about the explosion, the fire, and an intruder in the area.

After a few snuffs he rolls his eyes as he yells, “A bit late for the fire suppressant gas to be released, ya think?!”

But as he’s looking backwards and making his snide comments a panel on the left side opens up in front of him by popping backwards into the wall just slightly before rising up and out of the way. Gearing catches just the tail end of this, and his mane starts to bristle as the occupant starts to exit into the hallway with him.

“Status report: Green. All systems within acceptable operating parameters… Beginning standard patrol pattern.”

‘It’s a fucking sentry!’ the little blue pegasus screams inside Gearing’s head as it starts zipping around in a panic.

If robots were considered related to each other through some kind of arcano-technology family tree, the standard sentry would be the meat-headed big brother of the protectapony that’s high on Stampede and extra Buck. They are only vaguely equine in shape using the loosest definition possible. Yes, they move about using four legs. But they don’t have metallic hooves. The four limbs end in balls that track around in pretty much any direction allowing them to spin around in a circle at a moments notice and giving them an excellent turning radius. And then there’s the additional two limbs coming from the sides of it’s vertically extended torso that are basically built in weapons that a normal pony would wear on a battle saddle. And then their head is something else entirely and doesn’t even look remotely equine. The head portion sits down into the torso section, with the red glowing ‘eyes’ peeking out through horizontal slits in the ‘helmet’ it seems to be wearing. But it has no muzzle, or anything else to make it look personable. Its very design is meant to be a menace, right down to it’s lack of a mouth. Though the pair of heavy weapons it totes around, one on each limb, doesn’t hurt the intended look at all. Especially since they are live and the destructive capabilities of it are no act.

As Gearing is closing the distance, and is mere feet away, the bot finishes exiting its station and turns to face him with its pair of miniguns.

Gearing picks up speed, jumping and even using his wings, as useless as they actually are, to flap and give him every extra bit of momentum as he jumps at the robots left side.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

Gearing impacts into the robot hard enough that it rocks sideways, onto just two wheels, and its torso spins around as it yells out.

The sentry’s especially robotic even toned voice reverberates with an echo that seems like a deep grumble as it declares, “Engaging hostile target. Weapons free. Noncombatants are advised to stand clear.”

Gearing pushes off the wall a bit more with his hind legs as the bot tries to regain its balance while at the same time trying to spin its miniguns up and shoot him. The two crash in a heap, with the right side of the bot rather dented from the heavy weight impact. The bot tries to turn its torso, and Gearing holds onto its minigun arm with his forelegs as he wraps his hind legs around its torso and begins applying torque. The sentry bot starts firing off bursts from its miniguns as it can clearly see him, but can’t quite acquire a target lock as its been bashed so hard and it’s in a sub optimum position. Gearing twists his torso as he grunts, and then screams in rage as he’s completely had it with this day. The right minigun starts sputtering and sparking as he rips the weapon arm off by bending it against the joint and creating an opening. After peeling the gun back like a can opener, Gearing starts raining down hoofblows on the sentry bot’s head. But, despite the added mass, and the considerable dents each strike creates, it’s not really doing much in terms of slowing it down as he’s having to focus a considerable amount of strength just to keep it from turning and shooting him.

‘The turpentine!’ the little blue pegasus yells as it starts waving around a giant ‘flammable’ flag.

Gearing uses his sorting spell on his PipBuck by tapping out commands with his tongue, and then quickly grabs the small can from the top of his bag. He tries to use a wing to hold the can, but it simply can’t and he ends up dropping it to the ground. So he has to scoop it up again with a hoof, and in the process the bot starts thrashing around as it starts rotating its torso to try and get an angle on him while still laying on its side, and Gearing’s having to use the whole of his mass and strength to keep it from simply flicking him off and shooting him. Gearing chomps on the top of the cap, and simply bites the entire can open. After getting it open he changes his position and starts pouring the turpentine into the hole that leads into the bot’s circuitry, and all over the weapon, before simply cramming the can into the hole where the right arm had been attached. Then he grabs the head portion of the torso with his forehooves, and starts using his hind legs to kick the inside of the remaining minigun. It keeps shooting, but after a few solid hits the joints loosen up enough that it’s wobbling and not acting right. However, with Gearing changing tactics, the bot is finally able to start spinning its torso around and start getting up. Or trying to anyway. Gearing’s weight is still a problem and the speed at which it gets up is massively hindered. Gearing keeps knocking it off balance as he keeps hitting it in close melee and working on the minigun. After a few more strikes the minigun sags and starts aiming to the ground as the vertical supports have broken entirely and its control system has been damaged to the point of near uselessness.

Having done enough of a job on it, and being worried about more coming out of any of the dozens of panels around him, Gearing jumps off of the downed robot and starts running away as he reactivates his implant. Gearing doesn’t get far before the bot starts spinning its torso again and aims its minigun at him. However, and exactly according to Gearing’s plan, the calibration is off on the mini gun and as it pulls the trigger on him, the mingun fires impotently at the ground far behind Gearing. Regardless of the robots ability to track him, the weapons themselves simply aren’t doing the job.

Seeing its target getting away, the sentry bot gives chase as it keeps shooting. But between the sparking of its damaged limb and the bullets firing, the fumes coming from the turpentine catch fire and the sentry bot turns into a rolling inferno as it chases after Gearing at full speed.

‘Maybe we should have busted up its legs too!’ the little blue pegasus groans as it holds onto its muzzle in disbelief at what’s taking place right behind them.

The bot chases Gearing through the next set of doors and into a new area full of robots and storage again. Shooting at him the entire way. But shortly after getting through the door, the bullets start discharging sporadically and start sounding like popcorn. And they start zipping out at various, unpredictable angles as the sentry bot’s ammunition boxes start overheating and the rounds start going off on their own. A couple of them even impact into the side of the security bot itself. And the sparking and colors of the fire change as the circuitry inside starts burning and very sensitive components start getting the rough treatment. The bot veers off, crashes into a stack of supplies, then keeps on. But the entire time the bullets in its magazines are discharging, as it seems to have forgotten how to let go of the triggers as well. The other bots in the rooms converge on the ruckus and the fire suppressant system kicks on above. But while the protectaponies in this room try to contain the fire, Gearing scrambles up a set of stairs on the right side and tries to get up and away from them as quickly as possible while they are distracted. He no sooner makes it to the to the next level before the remaining ammunition detonates and blows up the majority of the torso of the bot while it sits there and burns, damaging multiple protectaponies and other crates in the process.

Gearing slinks around and spends a tense time trying to find his next area. He’s pretty sure he’s gone the wrong way, but he’s going the right general direction: Away from The Core. But at least with as many bots as there are, they have seemingly lost track of him as he starts trying to back trace to where he’d come in originally. The green line’s practically a death trap. The Core is a death trap, so his only hope is the one way he didn’t want to even try which is just finding a way out randomly. Although he knows it’s not completely hopeless. At some point he’s bound to find another emergency exit trail or something else that’ll lead him out. For now he just needs to stay out of sight and endure.

The bot patrols have picked up and, strangely, he’s found several other robots that have been damaged and destroyed. A good portion of them are so fresh that they are still sparking. Gearing keeps wandering and sneaking through one hallway, office, or work area after another as he tries to find some kind of lead. In one of the rooms that seems the least guarded, he finds a treasure trove of supplies. Scrap electronics. Wire. Fasteners of all kinds. And shelves full of all kinds of adhesives. The maintenance hall is the perfect place for him to simply enjoy existence itself.

Except he’s behind enemy lines, can’t use any of this currently, and the items would simply slow him down if he tried to take it with him. And, again, the medical box in the room provides him with a collection of medical supplies. And, again, the healing potions inside are as putrid as the rest, from prolonged exposure to enervation, but he simply grabs everything and takes it with him this time. Whether he uses it or not is anyone’s guess. But at least it’s something. And he bids a fond farewell to the exceptionally well stocked maintenance bay as he really wishes he can take everything with him. He walks over to the door and gives it one last sweep before he starts heading out.

But then he about faces, runs over to one of the shelves, and grabs a brand new can of turpentine and the couple Wonderglue packages and tosses them in his bag as he grumbles, “I just used the last bit, I might need more later…” Then he turns around and slinks out of the maintenance bay.

The little blue pegasus in his head stares at him with his eyes narrowed and asks flatly, ‘Really? More glue?’

“Shadap,” Gearing mutters as he exits into the hall and continues on his way. He gets excited when he finds another sign saying ‘Emergency exit’ and starts following it. Turn after turn he follows the green glowing signs and the arrows pointing him through the turns, up and down stairs, and through narrow hallways. As he’s trotting through a brightly lit office space, he can’t help but noticing how there’s been a lack of robots recently. He wonders if it has anything to do with getting further away from The Core and if he might be getting close to actually getting out.

The lights flicker over head, and the entire room has a brown out as it fades to dark momentarily. Gearing stops walking, and slowly looks over to his left across the office he’s passing through as a glow caught his attention.

A hiss and a gush of wind reaches his ears as the glow intensifies as the green glowing unicorn rears up and slams down its forehooves. Instantly the group of ghouls that were huddled with it in the office conference room join in with the inequine scream and start scrambling to their hooves as the dome of green magical radiation energy floods over them.

Gearing starts off at a sprint again as they start spilling out and chasing after him around the various tables, and low cubicles. There’s going to be no hiding from them in here. And even if he did, they’d be on him in seconds if he even tried. As he’s reaching the door, only to find it ripped off its hinges, he finds why there are no robots in the room.

They’ve all been destroyed and lay in crumpled heaps in the hallway. The protectaponies. The maintenance hover bots. Several combat variants of the hover bots. And some of them completely unidentifiable because they’ve been converted to magical glowing goop.

As he’s running down the hallway the ghouls are quickly after him. All howling and screaming as they chase after him. Yet, this time it’s different. There seems to be an extra added twisted sneer across their muzzles. A glow in their eyes. Not simply the magical radiation bathing them from the green one that’s keeping up with them. But apparently a kind of hellfire burning hatred. They don’t simply want to kill him, they want to utterly destroy him. And the snapping snarling maws give testament on their chosen method of execution as they keep up with an unending endurance.

Gearing keeps running as quickly as he can, jumping over one crumpled robot wreck or another and leaping over damage that had been done. He keeps looking for more signs of the exit, but again they have disappeared. Again he’s left to his own devices. But this time he has a clear path. A path of death and destruction to follow.

The same one that the ghouls had apparently created on the way in.

And he gets a good look at their handiwork as he charges through a sorting center, and starts scrambling up the stair cases he finds inside. As soon as they cleared the doorway, and resumed a line of sight with him again, the green unicorn threw another ball of green death at him. The staircase near him melts into slag as it misses, but the stairs themselves seem to have their integrity compromised. So he runs up even faster. But in the process of looking down and watching for the next ball of doom to be thrown at him, he sees the other ghouls swarm the protectaponies that had been working in the area and Gearing hadn’t even seen yet. In short order they’ve bashed in the metal and in a couple cases ripped them limb from limb. The protectaponies weren’t exactly helpless. They had inflicted many wounds. In fact, several of the ghouls had gone down.

But then their tactics become clear to Gearing as the green unicorn ghoul simply walked through the group of injured, sent out another dome of green radiation, then continued casually on as the ghouls on the ground picked themselves up off the ground as they knit back together and continued the assault.

‘You know… being on the receiving end of seeing that, I gotta say… that’s really… really… really… unfair…’ the little blue pegasus in Gearings head says as he stares at the ghouls exasperated. ‘How are we supposed to kill shit that can just heal at a rate faster than we can damage them because of their cheating horn headed bullshit?!’

Gearing chuckles aloud as he replies, “The same way anyone with means would take my ass down… Go for the head… And enough times to make sure.”

The little blue pegasus sticks out its tongue in disgust as it groans, ‘We’re going to have to be digging rotten grey matter out of our legs for a while again, like with No Shoes, aren’t we?’

“Can’t be helped.”

‘Oh yes it can, and you know it!’ the little blue pegasus says as it glares at him and waves its forelegs indignantly. ‘Now’s as good a time as any!’

Gearing stops running as he gets to the upper platform, and watches as the ghouls perform a running riot on the robots down below. The bots seem to do little more than slow them down. Even the Sergeant that sprays its flamer in one direction, while sawing another practically in half gets overwhelmed and destroyed. Only for the ghouls to get bathed in a ridiculous amount of radiation and pulling themselves back together again.

“Fuck this,” Gearing says as he lays down at the edge and swings his rifle around. He looks down at the crowd and watches as they clash with the next row of bots. Fearlessly. Like they know they are going to win. They have their own tricks. They are invincible.

With a pop from the rifle, one of the ghouls that had jumped on top of a protectapony collapses in on itself and falls off to the side.

The green unicorn looks over and spews out another wave of radiation. And again, their companions pick themselves up and pull themselves back together.

Except for the one that fell off the protectapony’s back.

The green unicorn hisses and screeches and walks over calmly as it looks at it while the others around it continue fighting. It stops over the ghoul and looks down, gathering up another pulse and sending it out in another display of brilliant green. But, again, the ghoul Gearing shot doesn’t get up. The ghoul reaches out with a foreleg, and pushes it, then grabs it and pulls it near it, and that’s when it sees the gray matter splattered out behind it. It stands frozen as it stares at this, trying to make sense of what’s going on.

Pop. Pop. Pop. More ghouls go down around it, one falling and crashing into it as its body is thrown away from a protectapony that was in the middle of clashing with it. The green glowing ghoul looks over at the protectapony and screeches before it grows brighter and blasts the protectapony nearly point blank with the same green orb it had been using against Gearing earlier.

The protectapony instantly explodes in a shower of molten slag as the ghoul continues to scream at it. The green ghoul looks down at the others around it, and sends another burst of green domed energy out as soon as it can. But this time most of them aren’t getting up. The other ghouls with it, that haven’t fallen, look around and seem just as confused as it is. Then one seemingly sharing eye contact with the green glowing ghoul jerks and flops over to the side as the side of its head explodes outwards.

The green ghoul jerks its head over to the side and up, following the direction of the splatter, and makes hard eye contact with Gearing as he’s sighting down his rifle again. The green ghoul starts glowing brighter and brighter, even more brightly than it had before, and it leans its head back in a massive scream as it rears up. Gearing quickly takes the shot, aiming at its head while its focus isn’t on him but anticipating the head coming back forward soon.

The ghouls head whips forward and though the glow coming from it dims considerably from the expenditure of energy, it sends a massive glowing green ball of magically super heated air right at him. The bullet, heading true to the target, hits the green ball not far from the green glowing unicorn itself. But what comes out the other side isn’t so much a bullet as it is a chewing gum sized blob of molten metal that splats against the ghoul’s side. It hisses and screams as its already burnt and glowing flesh is burnt further and it gets branded by what was once the bullet.

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he sees the ball of energy coming that’s volume is multiple times his own.

‘Oh nutter,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head whimpers as its ears flop down and its lower lip quivers at the sight.

Gearing rolls over to the side, hops up, and jumps clear through the plate glass on the side of the observation deck as he leaps for dear life towards the stair casing he’d come up on. He impacts into the staircase, flips over the top set of railing, and falls down to a lower level set of stairs before rolling over and off the edge of the staircase. He manages to get a grab onto the railing where it had been warped and damaged from the last magical strike, but this does little more than let him get his hind legs under him before he drops straight down the entire length to the floor.

The observation deck, the whole thing, flashes with a brilliant greenish white light as the ball of green glowing energy impacts into and continues through it. The destruction is immense as pretty much everything in its path is either incinerated, melted, or turned to green glowing goop that starts pooling and dribbling down. And there are few exceptions and of those are scorched stone. And the ball had continued on in with the impact like some sort of magical meteor before it detonated and sent a shower of molten metal and green goop flying back out of the hole where the observation desk used to be.

Trying to lessen his impact, Gearing curls up and then kicks the last section of stairwell as he’s passing it. This sends him shooting off away from it, as he basically bucked it, but this gives him the opportunity to tumble with the fall by hitting the ground at an angle and with a considerable amount of horizontal momentum to help offset the fall. Even so, Gearing’s left shoulder strains and screams as he hits the hard concrete. He stows his rifle the best he can before he turns and starts running for the nearest door. He doesn’t like this at all, and the growing developments are becoming an all consuming concern for his ability to last much longer. Like how his left foreleg groans and creaks with each step as he runs.

The ghouls don’t even wait for Gearing to stop tumbling before they begin their pursuit with rage filled inequine screams. The remaining four, glowing green ghoul included, charge after him as he disappears through the doorway and quickly start gaining on Gearing as he’s struggling to get down the hallway.

As he’s being pursued, Gearing keeps looking over his shoulder to see where they are and, more importantly, if that unicorn ghoul is going to throw any more annihilation orbs at him. As Gearing is getting to another sorting room, the lead ghoul gets close enough to jump and grabs a hold of Gearing’s mangled wings. Gearing bursts through the door screaming with the cannibalistic monster on his back as it twists his wings in unnatural shapes as it clamors up for more purchase. As the ghoul bites down on the back of Gearing’s neck, he hears a sound nearby that gives him mixed feelings

“Do you have no respect for government property, you slimy little striped bastard?!”

Gearing glances sideways, then stats spinning around and bucking counter clockwise before suddenly changing direction as the ghoul’s hind legs come off and trail behind like some kind of macabre cape. He grabs the ghouls torso with one leg, and pushes it up and away from him, while it’s still clamped onto his neck and gnawing on him, as the saw blade from the hover bot comes down to strike at Gearing. But he holds the ghoul in between and gives the robot the satisfaction of eviscerating the ghoul and nearly cutting it cleanly in half.

With a good portion of the body no longer holding onto him, Gearing is able to scrape the ghoul off of him the rest of the way by jumping into the hover bot as it slashes wildly at the pair. And after the ghoul has been knocked off of him, by an overly zealous strike to the head that takes off a large portion of its skull while it’s still trying to bite through Gearing’s neck, the other ghouls start closing in. Gearing ducks and rolls passed the hover bot, dodging the flame it starts unleashing as well as the additional slashes of the quickly whirring saw. One of the other ghouls jumps on the hover bot, drawing all of its attention, and learning the unfortunate lesson that the tactic that it was used to isn’t nearly as effective with so few numbers. The bot grabs hold of the ghoul with its pincer, mostly severing its foreleg in the process, hits it point blank with its flame, brings its saw up from underneath and starts opening it up like a bloody letter for its insides to get thrown on the floor, as its magical weapon fires into the side of it. The creature becomes the unfortunate demonstration dummy for why these models of combat drones can be so dangerous, especially to unarmored opponents.

And, wanting to make sure the party doesn’t start cooling down anytime soon, as the bot is ripping the ghoul to pieces, Gearing apple bucks the robot towards the other two still standing ghouls. He can already see the growing amount of sickly green light and he’s not sure which the ghoul is going to throw out, but Gearing figures whichever it is, it’s better for the bot to take the brunt of it than for him.

And because he’s had quite enough of this whole situation, as soon as the bot’s body gets knocked towards the ghouls, Gearing takes off at a run again. And because cool ponies don’t look at explosions, he doesn’t bother looking back as he hears the fighting pick up and sees the growing green glow illuminate the walls around them all.

As he’s running, he finally realizes that he’s in some sort of small package sorting facility, almost like a mailroom, and that in all likelihood there’s going to be a lot of areas for him to get to and hide. But, for now, he’s got to get away from that green glowing menace and the murder bot. It doesn’t matter which one wins. Either way, it’s going to be bad for him. Especially if the fight is decided too soon. So he beats feet as quickly as he can. His left shoulder starts tweaking and he actually has to start watching how he’s running as the shoulder itself seems to want to simply come apart at the seams.

He lowers his speed down to a trot, and pushes his way into another storage area, this one seems to be where skids of smaller boxes are put together and either sorted out from here, or packaged up and shipped elsewhere. There are stacks of small boxes sitting on wooden pallets all over and they are laid out in a variety of grids. Again, there’s some sort of sorting system with numbers painted onto the ground at their base. But most of the boxes are wrapped up tightly with shipping plastic that helps keep them safely together during transit. However, there’s so many he ends up walking into another maze.

He hopes he can sneak by, and maybe find another way to get out of here, but his options are quickly evaporating from him. This one doesn’t seem to have as much bot traffic, so hopefully it’s low enough security that they won’t bother. Or, perhaps, they are all off dealing with other concerns. Gearing hears what sounds like conveyor belts running on the far side of the room and starts working his way that way. Hoping that there will be an exit around the conveyor belts. As he’s walking that way, one slow step at a time, his left leg gets worse by the second. It’s not simply sliding and moving like it should normally, but shifting outwards like it’s trying to fall off on its own. He even uses his right foreleg and pulls the shoulder in towards himself, and grunts and groans as it does indeed shift. After enough pressure something gives and breaks, letting the shoulder sink into its normal position.

Gearing stumbles and leans against a skid of boxes as he rests his head against the plastic sheeting. “My shoulder’s not supposed to pop out of sprocket like that… damn this is messed up…” He steps around the pallet he’d been leaning against and starts walking further towards the sound of the moving conveyor belts.

“Alert: noncombatants are advised to leave the area… security sweep in progress… Lethal force may be used without warning…” an echoey robotic voice states from the same direction of the conveyor belt noise.

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he freezes solid. However, the conveyor belt noise continues, and, as he’s looking down the hall, he sees a familiar set of limbs come into view that are held aloft by roller balls. Gearing quickly steps back and zips around the stack of boxes on the pallet right next to him as the Sentry bot comes into view. Gearing peeks around, and watches as the bot turns the other way, and starts slowly going away from him. He breathes a sigh of relief as he realizes it’s just on a standard patrol and nothing more. If he watches it long enough he’ll figure out the pattern of its movements and will be able to slip by it without any problem.

A sound like a deep sucking in noise draws his attention behind him; and Gearing turns around quickly to see what decided to throw a wrench in his plans. And he instantly recoils back into the stack of boxes.

The green glowing ghoul starts slowly walking down the foot path, staring right as him, as its mouth is twisted in a rage filled snarl. The ghoul’s body is increasing in its green glow as it seems to be charging up for something. Something malicious.

Gearing steps to the side, away from the boxes and more out into the walkway as he stares down the green glowing ghoul. After side stepping into the hallway, the ghoul seems pleased by the apparent challenge and almost seems to smile.

Time practically stops as Gearing activates SATS

What the fuck you got against me, you horny bitch?! What the fuck did I ever do to you?! Gearing mentally bellows. Who pissed in your Sugar Apple Bombs?!

‘The same thing we’ve ever done: exist,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head groans as it quickly looks between the green glowing abomination in front of him and the sentry bot behind him. ‘Stuck between a rock and a hard place…’

Well I’m tired of playing around!

The little blue pegasus starts casually tossing a couple of the cube dice before he asks with a sinister smile, ‘Shall we play a game?’

Only if they’re loaded…

‘Like you can’t twist it to more suit your needs in the first place.’ He tosses the dice up in the air and sits down as he manically grins, ‘Let’s see how they fall!’

Gearing uses his sorting enchantment to use a thrown weapon, like he would a fragmentation apple, but this one’s no grenade. He queues up the target.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety percent chance of success.

Confirm. Confirm.

While under the effect of the spell, and still mostly looking at the ghoul, a small glass bulb pops out of his bag as he grabs it, and in slow motion he turns and whips it towards his chosen target. And the moment the glass strikes the surface, it instantly shatters and Gearing drops the remaining charge of SATS and quickly pulls back to where he’d been standing originally.

The rancid potion vial that Gearing had thrown strikes the back of the sentry bot with a resounding clang. Sending the disgusting liquid all over its back and making quite the racket.

As Gearing is turning back around and getting into position, he turns to look at the green glowing ghoul and his ears flop down as he sees the growing energy amassing around the ghoul’s head. At this distance it’s become quite clear. She’s pissed at him. She’s lost all of her friends. Her whole herd. And she’s going to make him suffer with magical death. Her color grows and grows as she starts tilting her head back, but keeping an eye on him to make sure she doesn’t miss this time. He’s close enough, and boxed in because of all of the supplies, so his movement options are limited. And they both know it.

“Alert: Hostile detected, commencing neutralization… Weapons free.”

The sentry bot starts rolling down the walkway, coming back the way it had come. The broken glass got its attention and when it spun around to see what had hit it, the only thing it could see was the ghoul as Gearing had made sure to use the boxes to stay out of its line of sight.

The ghoul’s head turns slightly as it takes its eyes off of Gearing, to look in front of it. It snarls as it sees the sentry bot closing in and, just as the sentry bot starts shooting with its miniguns, the green glowing ghoul thinks better of who is the more dangerous threat at the moment. She whips her head forward and hurls the massive energy it had been building up straight down the lane towards the security bot. Gearing stumbles to the side, and scampers over and around more to get as far away from that green ball of death as he can. And his panic is instantly vindicated as the cardboard boxes instantly burst into flame as the orb passes. They don’t even have to touch the orb for them to be incinerated, burnt, or warped. And the orb, while not as big as the one she’d thrown at him after he’d shot her friends, is still large enough to fill the entire width of the walkway.

The robot, having already started shooting, and having no reason to stop, continues to unload with both of its miniguns at the ghoul as it slowly rolls towards her. But the bullets are all mostly incinerated from the heat as they pass through the ball’s dead center with only small bits of slag making it through and doing little more than annoying her.

And just like last time, as soon as she unleashed the energy, her body grew considerably dim. The ghoul lets out a shriek of rage as she grows dimmer and her attack is on the way. And then, before the orb even strikes the sentry bot, because she obviously already knows what’s going to happen once it does, she starts turning her head to pay attention to Gearing, and to finally finish him off.

And her eyes go wide as she stares right down the barrel of Gearing’s rifle.

As soon as she’d unleashed her spell, and he was sure where the ball was headed, Gearing activated SATS again and used it to not only pull out his rifle, but aim it at the ghoul. And just as she started turning her head to look at him, Gearing fires his two shots. The first one actually misses his intended target, despite his high probability of success, and instead hits the ghoul’s horn, blowing a huge semicircle out of it as the bullet partially bounces off the bone but still continues through it. The damage causes a burst of green energy coming from it as she had obviously already started building up another charge to unleash on him. But the second bullet strikes true.

Right into her left eye socket.

As time resumes the sentry bot is consumed by the magical ball of death, instantly exploding as the circuitry is melted and burnt and the temperatures rise rapidly to the point that the ammo detonates and blows molten slag all over the sorting department, the ghouls head opens up and sprays the pallets of cargo behind her with green glowing chunky material as her hiss gets cut off mid tone. Then her body slumps over to the side.

The dice fall flat from the sky with their predetermined numbers showing straight up. ‘Double box cars, two for one…’ the little pegasus in his head comments as he looks at the dice. ‘If you can’t find an opening… make one.’

“Nothing like making your enemies help you kill them,” Gearing comments as he walks forward and looks over the ghoul’s corpse.

‘Think it’s dead? Like dead dead?’ the little blue pegasus asks as he starts rattling the dice around again. “Wanna roll the dice on that one?”

“No… I really don’t” He lifts his leg as he aims it over the ghoul’s head, but pauses. “Wait…” He kneels down and starts looking the glowing ghoul over. The radiation coming from the corpse is steady and ridiculous, even with it down and apparently out. So he’s not sure if that’s an after effect, or simply another sign that she’s going to be back up soon. He uses a hoof and gently lifts her face up to look at him. As he’s staring at her, he starts carefully looking over her features. Even as misshapen and cracked as they are. He tries to imagine it like some sort of weird caked on makeup, picturing the outer part as just nothing but a disguise.

‘Oh don’t tell me,’ the little blue pegasus practically moans as he drops the dice.

His mind jumps to a picture of a mare dressed up as a cow, with a happy little cowpony colt next to her. And after staring at her for a few more moments, the comparison and likeness is unmistakable. Especially with the cheekbones and eye brow ridge. “Yeah… it’s her…” He gently lays her head back down as he groans. “Fuck, and here I was worried about smashing her coffee cup.”

‘She was probably mad that we hurt her family…’ the little blue pegasus says as it decidedly tries to avoid eye contact with anything.

“Yeah, that’s probably the reason. And the reason they got hurt in the first place doesn’t even matter… family is family… and I made her watch as I slaughtered hers right before her eyes.” Gearing slaps a forehoof over his face as he groans. “I’m a real bastard to caring mothers, aren’t I? My own… this lady…”

The little blue pegasus, whether in agreement, or attempting to disagree via disregarding the question, doesn’t even reply.

“Yup, a real fucking piece of work, that’s what I am,” Gearing grumbles before stepping over, and delivering a quick downward stomp that caves in her skull completely and makes his PipBuck squeal from all of the rads he’s just been exposed to. He quickly starts walking away as he groans, “It’ll catch up to me eventually… Finally… It’s got to…”

‘Everyone’s reckoning comes eventually, and we’re waaaay past due for ours,’ the little blue pegasus in his head says with a sigh as he rattles around the dice. ‘Eventually it’s going to be our number coming up.’

“What’d I tell you about that hope shit?” Gearing grumbles as he starts angling towards a door frame he sees in the back corner. But before he gets too far he hears a mechanical grinding from nearby, and looks over in time to see one of the panels set into the walls pop out and start lifting up. And he turns his head the other way in time to see yet another panel open.

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

Please Stand By. . .

--=ERROR=--

Please Stand By. . .

74 Playing With Annihilation

“Alert: Security unit has ceased function. Hostiles are in the AO. Security threat matrix raised to level two. Beginning sweep for hostile targets,” the menacing echoey voices of the sentry robots call out as they are brought online.

Gearing runs as quickly as he can, which isn’t nearly as fast as he would like, before jumping into and crashing through the set of double doors on the other side of the mail room’s sorting facility. As soon as he’s through the door, he can hear an ongoing commotion coming from nearly every direction in the hallway as one robotic voice after another declares its intentions and tasks. But they all seem to have one thing in common: Destroying whoever they can find.

Gearing quickly turns and starts heading away from The Core again as he tries to figure out the best way to go. This is getting to be a problem, and he can’t simply wander around anymore. The area’s security is waking up and on active alert so it’s not a matter of if he gets discovered again, but when. He looks at his mangled wings and groans as he sees that, still, none of the crystals have started regrowing yet.

“I gotta get further away,” Gearing moans as he trots as quickly as he can. He takes a peek at the map on his PipBuck, and can’t help but notice that he’s not terribly far from where he’d originated. But that doesn’t really mean anything. He knows he could be twenty feet from where he needs to be, in a straight line, but if he can’t get there without drilling through solid rock and steel it might as well be on the far side of Luna’s cursed moon for all of the good it’d do him.

As he’s paying more attention to the map than anything else while walking, he almost misses the slight green glow in the peripheral of his vision to his right. Almost, but not entirely. Not after having been hunted down by that green glowing menace repeatedly. He hops and jumps away from the glow as he jerks his head over and looks. But, thankfully, it’s not the green glowing ghoulified unicorn come back from the dead.

Instead it’s her handy work.

After noticing the still popping glowing green puddle of goo, he quickly darts his eyes around this smaller distribution room and takes note of the other damage. Yes, it’s evident that the ghouls had come through here on their running rampage through the facility. There’s destruction everywhere, in the shape of weapon’s fire and destroyed supplies and robots.

However, there’s not a single dead ghoul among the carnage.

He starts trailing his eyes up a set of stairs not far away, ones that had been partially melted and burnt by various weapon’s fire and the green ghoul’s own magical death balls, as he tries to see if it’s a possible way out.

But his inquisitive search gets abruptly halted as an already weakened platform above gives up the fight with two of its cables and a smaller cargo container comes swinging down towards the ground as the cable rope snaps.

Gearing has enough time to barely register the noise, and look over, before the edge of the shipping container smashes down on top of him, edge first, and drives him down into the ground as the edge of the cargo container tries to bisect his back.

Gearing lets out a scream of pain and surprise as he unwillingly kisses the concrete as the large metal box falls on him. But there is a slight reprieve as the edge of the box bit more deeply into the rifle barrel slung over his back than him, causing the barrel to get noticeably, and horribly, bent as it gets wedged against Gearing and the floor under him, but the box kept pushing down anyway. The leverage of the barrel’s end biting into the concrete floor as the other end is propped up by Gearing’s body practically destroys the barrel, but it causes just enough of a hitch in the fall that the box starts coming down flat because the edge gets deflected off to Gearing’s side.

Although few would call that a blessing as the rest of the container crashes down and comes to rest flat on top of Gearing.

And it only takes a split second after the container comes to rest before Gearing starts pushing it up and sliding out from under it as he lets out a long string of frustration induced blasphemies against existence itself. “Fuck me hard with Celestia's hindhooves! Bitches gonna just spit roast me like this, what the fuck'd I ever do to deserve this bullshit?! Fuck'n dingle berry laden festering corpse rim jobbing diamond dog testicle gargling cheese dick licking bobbing for dingle berry lovin' road apple eating colonoscopy jelly gonorrhea milkshake!”

He scrambles out, and bucks the container off of himself. Then looks over his shoulder with a scowl, which only gets wider as he sees the barrel of his rifle impersonating a hockey stick with its bend, and starts bucking the container repeatedly, heedless to his environment and the situation, as he screams, “Fucking great! Now I don’t even have that anymore! Piece of shit worthless inbred spunk factory burrito gobbling queen of stupidity!”

The little blue pegasus in his head repeatedly waves its forelegs and hisses at him, ‘Quiet you fool! You’ll get us both killed!’

Gearing gives it one last massive kick, with both hindhooves, leaving a considerable dent in the side of the metal and actually knocking the shipping container away from himself several feet. As its still screeching across the concrete, Gearing stomps away from it and heads out through another door as he grumbles, “Fuck you guys, I’m going home!”

Though he’s still fuming he manages to get more control of himself to at least keep his swearing and screaming in his own mind space instead of out for the rest of the world to hear and ‘enjoy’. However, the annoyance and frustration show up in other ways as he is steadily picking up his pace as he continues down the hallway he’d discovered once escaping the storage facility that had tried to crush him. And the repetitive nature of the nondescript doors he passes just further serves to sour his mood.

It doesn’t take long before Gearing hears a set of mechanical hooves echoing down a hallway coming from his right, that dead ends into the one he’s in, and quickly scrambles backwards as he checks the doors along the sides. The supply closet on the right is locked, but, for some reason, the small office on the left is unlocked. He quickly slips in, shuts the door behind himself, and turns the lock’s knob before hopping over behind the office’s desk for good measure. As Gearing is watching, but not moving, he can see through the warped frosted glass on the office door. He can’t make out exactly what’s passing, but judging by the lights and the silhouettes there’s a group of four protectaponies walking down the hallway, and not far behind them is a hover bot.

“I want this place searched top to bottom!” the voice of the hovering sergeant bellows out as he’s passing the door. “They’re not going to get away from me!”

“Yes sir,” the protectaponies’ voices reply in unison as they continue on down the hallway the way Gearing had come.

Gearing groans as he looks around. “Great. Not only are they increasing their security, they are sending their military grade hardware out on patrols. And the protectaponies are probably to help search faster. Shit…” Gearing lifts his head up and looks into the trashcan next to him. His eyes dart around a bit as he sees the various Sparkle Cola bottles filling up the small bin. “I guess no one’s taken out the trash in a few decades…” He looks over at the door and, realizing he has a bit of time before he can even do anything else, goes ahead and starts pulling out a few bottles. And then, there at the bottom, he can’t help but snicker as he sees a collection of caps that are more than the bottles that he’s withdrawing. He quickly scoops them out, and adds them to his bag as he keeps one eye on the door. “From trash to cash… who’d have thought it…” He lets out a sigh as the aching in his shoulder and face start picking up now that he’s not focused on running away. “The kids would be proud of me…”

Gearing groans as he’s pushing himself back upright and starts walking towards the door, “Speaking of the kids… I need to get going so I can actually get back there before they grow old and forget what I look like…”

Gearing carefully opens the door, peeks out, and, after making sure the coast is clear, slips out again. And, just in case, he keeps the door unlocked this time. After all, that’s how he found it, but, again, he might have to double back and hide again.

After a few more turns, and after Gearing passes through a security door that has a door frame considerably shorter than the ten foot high ceiling it's a part of, Gearing starts coming up to a four way intersection as his right ear twitches. His shoulders start feeling cold as he hears a variety of sounds that he really doesn’t want to hear. Repetitive metallic hooves, the exhaust from a hover talisman, and most worryingly of all, even as faint as it is, the hint of what sounds like a conveyor belt to him. He quickly doubles back and jumps through the security door as he hits the button on this side, closing it as he’s leaping through it in a bid that the robots won’t see him before he can get away.

A few seconds after the door shuts completely, a group of protectaponies come walking out from the right side hallway intersection; they make an abrupt turn, and start walking towards the security door. And, as they are reaching it, a hovering robot turns the corner after them humming an equestrian army marching song to the cadence of the protectapony hooves. It pauses and glances down the other hallway, looking at the individual coming its direction, and then turns and continues on to follow the protectaponies.

The protectaponies change their walking formation, from two dead center and close together, and the other two out a bit wider and practically walking along the walls as they make an even edge shaped formation, to a simple tight four block as they open the security door and start walking through. Close behind them the hovering bot continues through with them, but even after it passes the doorframe it doesn’t bother even trying to close the door again. And the reason is perfectly clear as the four wheeled heavily armored big brother to the protectaponies passes through the doorway slowly.

Above the door frame, and squeezed tightly into the corner with a couple of the utility pipes that run the length of the hallways, Gearing has wedged himself over the door with his hooves and stares down at the opening with his eyes as wide open as they can possibly go.

The security bot that rolls by is a terror to behold. It’s slightly bigger, with armor plating that seems on the far side of excessive. Instead of a simple dual machine gun armament, with one on each side of its torso, it has far more dangerous weaponry. On the right side the minigun has been swapped out for a chaingun. True, it has a slower rate of fire, if you want to be technical, but the larger caliber rounds it slings, and the damage each individual round is capable of, more than makes up for it. On the other side of the torso, a missile launcher looms waiting to deliver rapid fire explosive pain on anyone it could possibly even see. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, mounted on the shoulder is a gleaming magical focus that’s capable of as much if not more destruction than the missiles.

And time stops as Gearing stares at the rolling arsenal and activates SATS.

‘T-t-that’s an Annihilator class! What the fuck is that doing here?!’ the little blue pegasus in his head screeches as it looks the robot over and takes in every horrifying detail in rapid succession. ‘That shit’s meant for forward fire bases or offensive combat position defense. Maybe convoy defense! Those things are fucking unstable! Why are they in the city?!’ The little blue pegasus grabs a cloud, pulls a large cloth out of it, wraps it around his eyes, lights a cigarette, and starts belt-fed chain smoking them from an ammo box as he says, ‘That’s it, kiss our flank goodbye. If we’re already running into these, than the systems totally fucking awake and we’re screwed! We’re screwed, man! Game over, Gee Gee, we’re fucked and they’re not using lube!’

I’m tired of getting reamed… I’m tired of being fucked with… and I’m sick of this bullshit! Gearing mentally swears.

‘Well what the fuck are we going to do?! We can’t fight something like that, not without some serious hardware, and in a better condition than we are now. We’re barely holding together as it is!’ The little pegasus starts flicking one spent cigarette butt after another at the robot as it screams, ‘They’ve been fucking hardened so even if you hit them with a spark grenade it’s just going to slow them down for a bit. And piss them off. Did I mention that? Because it will. It seriously pisses them off when they get zapped!’ He throws his hooves in the air and glares at Gearing. ‘So the fuck we gonna do this time smart guy!?’

Load the dice, Gearing replies as a mental sneer crosses his muzzle.

‘How the fuck do you expect-’ the little pegasus asks, then stops as the inventory sorter does its thing and the item in question becomes highlighted in Gearing’s peripheral vision. ‘Oh… that’s how…’ He flicks the cigarettes off to the side and shrugs his shoulders as he says, ‘If there ever was a time to pull something out of our ass, this is it…’ He throws the dice over his shoulder way up into the air as he puffs on the last cigarette and asks, ‘How do you like our odds?’

I don’t play fairly if I can avoid it, Gearing mentally replies.

‘That’s not an answer,’ the little pegasus says as it blows a long stream of smoke to the side.

Let’s see whose number’s up… Gearing replies as he cancels SATS. A moment later he steps to the side, wedges and holds himself to the pipes with his other limbs as he reaches into his bag and pulls out the item on top. He looks at it while it’s held in his right fetlock, he pops it into his mouth, and then carefully inserts the old module into his PipBuck. Gearing closes his eyes as he begs, Please work… I swear I’ll make it worth your while if it works…

The little blue pegasus in his head holds a forehoof over its eyes as it doesn’t even want to watch as it says in silent resignation, ‘Who’s horn do I gotta suck off to get a break? Or, hell, spit roast me if you two bitches want. Just toss me a fucking carrot here…’

A moment later the enchantment showing the display across his vision fuzzes and shakes as Gearing’s frown slowly increases. “Shit…”

A moment later the enchantment comes back with full clarity, possibly even a bit more than it was before hand, oddly enough, and in the corner of his vision he sees a new toggle activation option.

Gearing quickly hits it, and then the grin that crosses his muzzle grows massive, before it fades out of sight entirely.

The little pegasus in his head jumps to his hind knees, throws his forelegs in the air high above himself, and screams out loud, ‘Fucking thank you!’

Stealthbuck Mk I activated.

Gearing quietly slips down to the ground lowering himself to his hooves by holding onto the pipes, door frame, and supports as he nearly silently steps back to the floor. Once firmly on the floor again, he quickly scurries after the security bot, coming up right behind it as silent as a ghost and no more visible then a heat mirage.

The back panel of the annihilator pops open as it’s rolling down the hallway on its patrol. A few seconds later, it comes to an absolute halt, ceasing all movement entirely. The back of the security bot shifts ever so much as added weight is applied to its back. Gearing’s voice whispers from behind the robot, “Voice control, begin new security search patrol to designated sector.”

The annihilator shutters and shivers, then spins around abruptly and says “New orders acknowledged. Beginning patrol duty.” Then it starts rolling back the way it had come.

‘This is crazy enough it might work,’ the little pegasus says while chewing on its forehooves.

The panel on the back of the security bot closes and secures itself as Gearing mentally replies, Bots got me in here, maybe they can get me out…

Gearing, completely invisible thanks to the magical effects of the stealth buck, rides on the back of the annihilator as the drone travels along on the task it had been given. The whole time Gearing is practically wrapped around the back of the robot’s torso, with his legs clamping onto the bot’s back like a spider trying to give a hug, but careful not to impede its movements. It wouldn’t be necessary, but he knows, according to their search patterns, and the way their eyesight is fixed forward, they turn their torsos to look around. If he blocks the movement, he’ll be discovered. If he gets knocked off suddenly, he’ll get discovered. There’s a hundred things that could go wrong with this, but he’s pretty much out of options. And then there’s the change of task he input into the security bot. It was a bit of a gamble. Gearing doesn’t actually know where the section he wants to go is. But he made an educated guess that the robot itself would either have the knowledge of the layout itself preprogrammed in, would be able to query the security nets database for where it’s supposed to go, or would be able to follow all of these codes written on the walls that he can’t translate. All he knows is the section that he needs to get to.

A bit of information provided to him via an identification card that a long dead colleague had loaned him. And, yet again, he can’t help feeling indebted to an individual he’d never even met.

The security bot easily rolls through one security checkpoint after another. The doors open for it, other bots steer clear, and absolutely nothing even challenges it as it slowly rolls down one hallway after another. Another hunch that Gearing had that turned out correct.

‘Heads of Security usually have all of the keys, so it’d make sense that the baddest tools in their arsenal would be able to get wherever they needed to get as quickly as possible without having to check in with anyone nor drawing suspicion,’ the little blue pegasus declares happily.

Don’t get full of yourself. We both know this guy isn’t exactly the highest on the food chain. If a super sentinel gets a bur up its mechanical ass this annihilator is toast. Gearing mentally grumps. And then there’s a few others that could give it a run for its money using a combination of equipment and tactics. It’s powerful, but it’s slow, and that’s a disadvantage I could really do without.

‘Which is why we have the gravity modulator…’ the little blue pegasus says with a shrug.

I wish I could make this guy speed up without drawing attention. But the only time they ever go into overdrive mode is in the middle of combat and when they are trying to close in for melee or reacquire targets. It’s a waste of energy otherwise. So if he starts speeding down the halls, it’s going to raise some alarms, Gearing mentally moans. And this Stealthbuck isn’t going to last forever. I think I got about an hour on the charge. Which should be enough if the bot goes straight there with no interruptions. It wouldn’t have taken me that long to get where I did if I wasn’t having to constantly backtrack and dodge things, let alone all the fighting.

‘Let alone being as lost as a noble in an empathy convention,’ the little blue pegasus groans.

That too.

As they are getting closer to the area where Gearing thinks he can break away, he checks his PipBuck regularly. For most of the way there he has one eye on his map function, and the other on the surroundings, careful only to glance at it when there’s nothing that might actually see it, and the rest of the time keeping it off so there’s no possibility that any glow will give him away. And he actually starts feeling a bit of an accomplishment as the bot steadily gets back towards the sector he was in before. He can see it on the map as the bot takes the absolute most direct route there. Although, the bot starts using side tunnels that he’s not even seen, and suddenly turns perpendicular to take a different path then what Gearing had expected. But it’s heading that way at the same steady pace and has given no other indication of anything being wrong, so he wonders if the bot is going to use another more accessible entrance.

And as they are approaching a hallway that this dead ends at a ‘T’ into, Gearing looks over the shoulder of the security bot and his eyes go wide as he sees the ensemble coming around the right side corner and into the hallway with him. This group is the most heavily armed as of yet. He’s already been passing more and more bots. And not just protectaponies, other security bots, and military grade hovering drones. But this single group consists of six protectaponies, all of which making up a wedge formation as they lead the procession, with a pair of sergeant military grade ‘Mr Buckies’ and in the far rear is another annihilator security bot. But, as bad as all of that is, out of all of them, the one robot he sees that makes his hair stand on end and fills him with a sense of dread is not, in fact, the second annihilator that he’s seen today. It’s the hover bot floating along lazily in front of it, and behind the two sergeant class combat units.

‘A fucking officer,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head groans. ‘Why’s it got to be a fucking officer?! Officers screw up everything, living or not.’

At least it’s a lieutenant Mr. Bucky and not a major, Gearing mentally adds as he looks the combat hardened robot over.

As the groups converge, neither of them really reacts to the other’s presence. Except the protectaponies, in unison, step to the side and march in two lines to give the sentry bot plenty of room to pass through, likewise the two sergeants crest around it like water hitting a rock. But, just after passing the pair of hover bots, the sentry bot Gearing is riding on abruptly changes course, getting along the right side wall as his counterpart does the same thing with the left side wall. But as it’s getting close to the lieutenant Mr. Bucky, the hovering bot yells out, “Halt!”

And, just like that, every other robot in the hall comes to a grinding stop.

Including the one Gearing is riding on.

The lieutenant floats over by the security bot and focuses all of its eyes on the eyes of the sentry. “You will immediately tell me what you are doing in my combat zone, soldier!”

“Status report: Green. Unit is in route to perform patrol duty in designated sector,” the security bot instantly replies.

“What’s your purpose, soldier?”

“Advisement: This unit’s current task list is as follows: Travel to designated sector. Engage search pattern Delta. Search for known violent infiltrator operating in the area. Engage infiltrator with lethal force until target is destroyed.”

“Where’s your support crew, soldier?”

“Advisement: This unit has no attached units to its deployment.”

“Well that doesn’t sound right at all! You shouldn’t be alone, even as Celestia damned glorious as you are!” The lieutenant looks around with its other stalks as it says, “You should join my detachment, we’ll figure out what to do with you later once we find some spare help.”

“Negative.”

The lieutenant’s eyes whip over towards it before he asks, “What did you say to me, soldier?!”

“Advisement: This unit is in active pursuit of a known saboteur. Priority has been declared. No other orders can supersede the termination order at this time.”

The lieutenant sputters in the air and gets closer as it screams, “Are you refusing to follow my orders, soldier?!”

“Advisement: This unit is under the orders of an officer of a superior rank. Lower ranked officers do not have the authority to countermand the orders of a superior officer.”

The lieutenant’s hover talisman shows its irritation as it sputters momentarily, “You’re really getting on my nerves, soldier.”

After a short pause the sentry replies tersely, “Advisement: If the lieutenant is displeased with the operation of this unit…” the security bot’s torso pointedly turns as its sensors aim at the hovering robot. “Take it up with the colonel.”

The lieutenant grumbles and starts moving around him as he grumbles, “I think I just will! Now get out of my face, you maggot!” As he’s passing the security bot he yells, “My troops, on me, resume search operations! I want this intruder found like yesterday!”

The other robots continue on with their path, and a moment later the security bot that Gearing is on continues on its way, taking up its position in the middle of the hallway as it had done before and continues rolling at the same slow speed.

Gearing mutters quietly, “That fucking officer is going to cause a problem…”

The little blue pegasus rattles some dice then quickly flicks them up in the air. He catches them and shows a pair of sixes as he asks with a grin, ‘Well then… why don’t we load the dice and make sure that doesn’t happen?’

Gearing groans as he mentally replies, This is either the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, or one of the most brilliant.

The little blue pegasus in his head shrugs as he says, ‘Only one way to find out…’ He chucks the dice up in the air behind himself and folds his forelegs across his chest as he looks out and watches.

Gearing, still invisible, hops off of the security bot he’d been riding, and turns around. He quickly sneaks up behind the other annihilator and starts walking in time with it as he looks over his shoulder at the bot he’d already compromised. As soon as his annihilator has turned the corner to the left, Gearing scoots closer and quickly gets to work on this annihilator as well by popping the back panel open with overly practiced skill.

A few seconds later the robot shutters and comes to a complete stop. And, a fraction of a second later, there’s a pop and shower of sparks coming from the back of the annihilator. A fraction of a second beyond that a shrill loud scream of pure uninhibited mayhem and rage bellows out of the annihilator. The other bots in the hallway, hearing this, all quickly spin around and look at the annihilator that is bringing up their rear. And before the annihilator gets to do anything, they all start opening fire on it as it stands there and screams. A moment later it starts unleashing all of its weapons simultaneously while charging at his squad mates at full speed. The protectaponies get mowed down by a combination of chaingun fire and, in the case of two, it simply runs them over and bashes them into the wall. Missiles, bullets, and magical weapon fire fills the hallway as the melee increases at a disastrous pitch.

But Gearing is nowhere near the fighting by the time it really starts picking up. As soon as he destroyed the robot's combat inhibitor, he jumped away and left it to its own devices. With it facing the way it was, it had plenty of targets to choose from and absolutely no reason to look behind itself. But, just to be safe, Gearing didn’t even start until his own ride had gotten out of line of sight around the corner. But, even so, Gearing ran as fast as he could, completely disregarding any attempts at stealth or giving away his position by the sound of his invisible hooves. The berserking annihilator not only more than made up for it with its screams of rage, but it posed an obvious and immediate, visible, threat to those around it. All of which immediately took action to try and stop the monstrosity. Gearing quickly catches up to his slowly rolling security bot and hops back onto its back. A moment later, after giving it another command, the bot starts traveling at its top speed as it starts charging down the hallway to get away from the fighting.

‘If that thing comes around that corner, we’re right in the line of fire, you know that right?’ the little blue pegasus asks as he nibbles on his forehooves.

And, to complicate matters, the robot comes to a stop at a large metal security door not long after. They are still within line of sight to the intersection and, as he’s watching Gearing can see more and more fire pouring out from the hallway where he’d sent the berserking Annihilator. And the weapons fire coming down the hallway gives evidence that more robots had joined the fight as there’s simply too much laser fire for the number of bots that were originally there.

Gearing looks at the door, and at the robot with apprehension. After a while of the door not opening, Gearing asks quietly, “Why have you stopped?”

“Advisement: Sector has been quarantined and sealed off. Doors will not open while they are in fire flood control mode.”

Gearing groans as he asks, “Great, so we can’t open the doors because the area on the other side is flooded?”

“Affirmative.”

The little blue pegasus scoops up the dice he’d thrown earlier and spins them around as he shows a pair of 7’s that are on each of the six sided cubes. ‘What fun is there to play by the rules?’

Gearing steps off the security bot as he says, “Concentrate fire of shoulder mounted weapon on the left side segment of the door until a hole is cut through.”

“Affirmative.”

Instantly the shoulder mounted weapon opens fire on the thick steel door, and the results send shivers down Gearing’s spine. The metal instantly starts heating up, with pockmarks eating deeply into the metal. After a few moments holes start developing in the steel like someone was shooting a paper target with a rifle. In short order a small section looks like a partially melted colander from all of the holes. And the more it fires, the more the metal either disappears or starts dripping downwards. After a few moments, and Gearing watching carefully as the hole widens, he steps to the side and comments, “Cease fire.”

Instantly the robot cuts off its weapon and replies, “Affirmative.”

Gearing steps up to the hole and carefully looks over the whole area. It’s big enough for him to get through. But he’s not too keen on touching any of the edges just yet. And, to answer his curiosity on why there’s no water pouring out, Gearing frowns as he sees yet another security door on the other side. But as annoying as that is, the very fact he’s having trouble getting through shows that the design is in fact working as intended.

The metal starts cooling and hardening back up, and after tapping on a couple still glowing pieces, and making sure they have cooled enough to no longer be molten, he takes a running jump and leaps through the hole. It doesn’t take him long to notice that the other door has already sustained severe damage just as a factor of the bot concentrating fire in one small area for so long and the shots that didn’t quite hit where intended. As Gearing turns around to look at the bot, his eyes go wide as he sees a group of bots coming from further up the hallway, straight towards them. But, as they are crossing the intersection. The entire group turns and joins in with the fight in the side hallway. But instead of simply more hover bots or protectaponies, this group also has a pair of security bots with it. And the pair of security drones live up to their name as they open up with all of their weaponry as soon as they have line of sight on their target.

“Fuck, even an annihilator isn’t going to last long against all of that.” Gearing looks over at the door that’s been shot and commands out loud, “Using shoulder mounted weapon, concentrate fire at the bottom left section of the second door until a circular hole one meter in diameter is cut through the metal.”

“Affirmative,” the security bot replies as it begins firing through the hole it’d already made, and at the lower section of the next door.

As Gearing watches, it’s like the robot is playing one of those unfair carnival games where the carnival booth owner wants you to shoot out the red star using a fully automatic bb gun. The rounds being fired are just accurate enough that they are in the general proximity of where they are being aimed, but the magical jitter on it causes line after line of dents to show up instead of concentrated cutting. Although Gearing is aware if he wanted that kind of precision, he’d need a torch or a laser weapon. And this is neither of them. But the one thing it does do is, with the aid of the first hole created, allow water to start pouring into the area between the two doors where Gearing is at.

‘Or a magical lance would get through in a jiffy,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head reminds him.

“Shut your whore mouth with that shit!” Gearing instantly balks at the mere thought of the thing he’s reminded of. “I don’t want one of those things anywhere near me!”

‘Does anybody?’

“Lunatics, sadists, and sociopaths,” Gearing mutters aloud as he watches the progress. But over the firing, Gearing hears something else. Or, more accurately, things start quieting down. He leans sideways, and barely peeks around the edge of the hole to look back and behind the annihilator as it magically tunnels through this several inches thick of solid steel.

‘It’s still fucking alive!’ the little pegasus in his head says with shock as he sees the fighting is continuing. And, to make things worse, the variety of fire is cutting down, so the home team hasn’t exactly won the day yet.

“It killed the other sentry bots… oh shit.”

More bots come from the far end, this time it’s mainly a large group of protectaponies and hovering bots. But, even from here, Gearing can tell the hovering bots actually consist of mostly maintenance drones. They aren’t the combat variants.

And his eyes jump to the size of saucers as the annihilator he’d unleashed, comes charging out of the side hallway with a protectapony and hover bot in front of it as it continues straight on until it hits the wall at full speed, crushing the two other bots between itself and the solid wall. The annihilator is smoking. It has damage over the majority of its body, the missile launcher is completely destroyed and the limb ends in a sparking stump, and the chaingun’s calibrators have been wrecked so the jitter from the rounds shooting makes them have a huge ‘cluster’ that the ‘grouping’ seems more like a scatter shot then a precision weapon. More like a blunderbuss than a rifle. But it only takes one hit to cause massive damage, and as it spins its torso towards the new arrivals it proves the point by unloading a constant stream of bullets at them. But the fighting picks up never-the-less as the other robots, heedless to their own survival swarm the berserking security bot with everything they have.

“Oh damn this is going to suck if he looks this way,” Gearing groans. “If him and my security bot start fighting I might not be able to get through entirely.” He hangs his head and sighs. Instantly his eyes jump even wider as he quickly scrambles backwards further behind the security door and starts trying to hug the wall. He looks down at his legs, his completely visible legs, and then starts looking at his PipBuck as he groans, “It fucking wore off already. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now I’m really boned if he looks this way. Because if it sees me it won’t stop until it gets me and I’m just fucking trapped!”

Gearing looks beyond the annihilator that’s currently impersonating a plasma torch and watches as another wave of hovering maintenance bots arrives on the scene. But their numbers are starting to dwindle faster than they can be replenished by reinforcements and they are effectively doing nothing to the seriously damaged security bot that seems like it’s having the time of its life performing this running riot through all of the bots stupid enough to get in front of it.

Gearing looks over to the side, and sees that the hole is, for the most part, cut. He’s going to have a bit of a problem getting through at this rate. But, it’d be manageable. It’s going to take some finagling, but during the entire time he’s going to be vulnerable to attack from behind. And he knows it. He looks around back and forth, between the annihilator that is helping him and the hole that’s slowly widening as it gushes water. Between the hole that is being cut and represents his impending freedom, and the damaged annihilator that represents the strong possibility of everything up to this point being wasted.

‘Load the dice,’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments flatly. ‘When it’s all or nothing, don’t leave it up to chance…’

Gearing groans as he hangs his head. A moment later he yells, “Cease fire,” and jumps over to the hole as soon as the magical energy bursts stop pouring in. He looks at the annihilator that’s staring straight ahead for a moment, then looks behind it and says, “Turn around one hundred eighty degrees,” as he watches the fight take place further up the hallway.

“Affirmative.” The annihilator’s four wheels turn in conjunction giving a zero radius turn as it quickly does an about-face and starts watching the fight taking place further up the hallway.

Gearing pops open the hatch on its back as he says, “Thanks for all of the help. I know it’s weird, but you’ve saved my life. I wish there was something I could do for you. Maybe take you with me or something. But I can’t. And I’m truly sorry for this. But I hope you’ll understand why I did it.” He looks up at the back of its head and smiles widely as he says, “But, maybe this’ll be enough… because if the rantings of a few others I’ve known is to be believed… You might just enjoy having a bit of uninhibited free will…. So… Thanks for all you’ve done and give’em hell!” He leans to the side, and quickly makes the final adjustment, ripping out the critical component before quickly sliding to the side and hiding behind the security door again out of sight.

The effect is instantaneous as the annihilator’s voice bellows out in a scream of rage. But unlike the other one, it can clearly see a fight taking place. And it wants in on the action. Before the water around Gearing’s hooves can even stop rippling from his movements, the annihilator starts unloading with its entire arsenal. Missiles zoom off in a rapid succession of three at a time, chain gun, fully functional and undamaged, rains accurate doom of the hot lead variety, and the magical weapon on its shoulder just randomly sprays in the general direction. All while the annihilator spins its wheels in the water pouring out of the second hole before getting enough traction to practically gallop off towards the other robots.

Gearing rears up onto his hind legs, and melts into the corner as much as he can, as he hears the screaming war machine roll away from him at the highest speed it can manage. It doesn’t care about self preservation. It doesn’t care about overloading its weapons with too much usage. It uses everything to the full extent possible. And after he’s sure the robot isn’t going to hear him moving, he starts sorting through his baggage again. He needs to get through this hole, and quickly. He’ll find a way out of the elevator shaft himself. If he has to start piling up junk or collecting enough empty plastic bottles to give himself the buoyancy he needs he’s going to do it. But now isn’t the time for second guessing himself.

The one thing that draws a slight smile to his face is the fact that as he’s digging through his bag, he notices a bit of green on his wings. He tilts his left wing in front of himself carefully, looking along the edges, and taking in the faint green growths showing up. They are growing back in, but slowly. He breathes a sigh of relief as he realizes that he’s managed to get far enough away that his implant is actually able to outpace the damaging effects of the enervation field. In fact, the left side of his face isn’t stinging as much as it was before and that annoying itching feeling has dropped down to barely registrable.

He pulls out a metal box and holds it to the side as he looks in for more, but then his eyes dart over to it as they slowly cross over the metal container with the dings and scuff marks on the surface.

“That’ll do,” Gearing mutters.

He quickly opens the lid and stares in at the small collection of fangs and teeth that he’d swiped from the museum’s dead dragon before all of this got dropped on him. He holds it aloft with one hoof, as he uses his tongue and draws out other items to the top of his bag with his sorter enchantment. Now that he has an idea of something to do, he knows what to pull out. It takes a couple entire tubes of Wonderglue, but he manages to glue several of the dragon’s claws to the underside of his forelegs, but he’s exceptionally careful that the angels of the claws aim more outward, towards his sides, so that he won’t end up stabbing himself in the belly if he steps wrong. It’s not the easiest thing to manage, and he ends up wasting more glue than he cares to admit, but he manages it none-the-less.

He just had to stay standing on his hind legs long enough to make sure it set. Which, given it’s Wonderglue, didn’t take very long. Gearing peeks around the side of the hole to the outside hallway, watching as the water pours out of the hole as quickly as it’s pouring in from the other hole, and can’t help but smiling. His annihilator laid waste to the other one, which isn’t surprising considering the damage it had already received, then it took out the other bots while following the line of reinforcements further up the tunnel. The sounds of fighting are so distant that he can barely hear it, and typically only the sounds of chain gun fire or missile explosions are all that travel so far at that.

Gearing grins widely as he says, “Give’em hell big guy! And considering how that bitch tried to kill all of us, I hope you find her and wreck her shit too!”

‘It’s going to take a while for them to be able to stop that berserker,’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments. ‘It probably won’t get stopped until it’s near The Core.’

“Good… because unlike us, he’s going to have no problem with the enervation fields and can just give the business to all of those fucking things that tried to rip us apart,” Gearing replies as he finally drops to all four legs and gingerly walks over to the hole cut into the next security door. “And now to get the fuck out of here…”

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

Gearing uses his forelegs and twists and swings the claws awkwardly at the dangling hot solidified metal over the holes that are partially acting like bars to keep him from advancing. It’s exceedingly awkward, and shows that sometimes ideas work better in your head than they do in reality. He turns around and starts bucking at the metal stalactites, beating and bashing and warping them until they get out of the way, and a couple others actually do break off thanks to the gouges cut into them from the claws. So, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Gearing walks into the gushing water and continues fighting the stream’s current with his sheer mass as he gingerly works one limb after another through the hole that’s just barely big enough for him to fit through. The rifle is a particular problem as the barrel’s now bent from all of the abuse he’s suffered, but he’s not going to just discard it. He’s sure he can fix it. He just needs to get access to the right set of tools, equipment, and or spare parts.

Plus, it’s sort of grown on him since Dolor told him to keep it. So he doesn’t want to ditch it unless he absolutely has to.

He ends up having to play a weird contortionist style game getting through there, especially with having to take off his bag just to be able to fit, but hold onto them well enough that he can pull them in with him despite the constant water pressure gushing out against it. But, after a few moments, he manages it. All without getting shot in the back. He gets back inside the flooded tunnel and, once inside, and a couple steps away from the hole, the pressure actually equalizes out so much that he doesn’t really notice the flow. Gearing stares down for a few moments as he manipulates his legs around and stares at the pairs of dragon’s claws glued to his legs. After a few cycles of twisting them this way and that, repeatedly, he slowly shakes his head and lets out a snort of amusement. “I look like a fucking salad shooter…” He slips his bag and the rifle back on and starts trotting down the flooded hallway as he casually looks around.

‘You know… I never would have thought I’d actually be happier, and feel safer being completely submerged and basically trapped with no way out… This is a cruel and weird world we live in,’ the little blue pegasus comments as it actually lounges back and seems like it’s not only not really phased by the suddenly damp surroundings, but actually amused by it.

It’s not silt though, Gearing reminds him. And that current washed off all that gooey crap from those ghouls…

‘True, but trapped is trapped and this just feels… fine… Like we’re gonna be okay,’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments.

Gearing can’t help but admit that, despite what he would otherwise normally feel, how he actually felt not long ago, he’s handling this far better than he’d expected. And he has an even further amount of luck as he looks at the map on his PipBuck and watches as he gets closer and closer to where he knows the elevator is. He comes to an intersection, and looks up as random movement catches his eye.

Above him a few floating plastic items slowly meander their way across and in front of him, coming from the left, as they just keep moving with their own flow. His eyes lock on one plastic bottle in particular, and a smile crosses his muzzle as he thinks, What are the odds that there’s another one of those in here, with the exact same rip on its label?

‘So now plastic bottles we’re jealous of have decided to show us which direction to go? Because they feel bad for us? What is this one of Fluttershy’s kiddie stories?’ the little blue pegasus says with an arched eyebrow as it watches the bottle continue floating down the hallway he’s turning into, but the opposite way.

If it were one of her stories, we’d have already woken up in bed and telling others about the horrible nightmare we’d had and they’d blow smoke up our tail telling us how silly it is and that we’re safe and surrounded by friends, Gearing mentally grumps.

‘Yeah… and we’re neither,’ the little blue pegasus says as it looks down and mindlessly plays with some dice.

Gearing trots along, away from the floating bottle and down the hallway it’d come from, as he comments, At least we’re going in the right direction… and entirely changes the topic away from a dark chapter of his life that he’d really rather not have opened at the moment. It doesn’t take long before he comes to where the hallway dead ends by ‘T’ing into a hall perpendicular to itself. And as he’s getting closer, a smile crosses his muzzle as he sees a series of scorch marks in the wall directly in front of him. He runs up to the intersection as quickly as he can while avoiding stabbing himself, and looks side to side. His excitement only increases as he sees that, yes, this is the exact intersection where they first ran into the maintenance bots that had attacked them. He turns and starts down the hallway at a steady clip and grins as he sees the twisted mangled remains of the security door where he’d held the bots, and the water, off long enough for Swift and Handy to get away. And, beyond that long hallway past it is the elevator shaft. He’d managed to make one giant loop. And, while he’d not gotten what he truly wanted while coming down here, he’s leaving with the information he’d actually come for and, most importantly, his life. Which as far as missions are concerned with him, denying the enemy the kill is, in itself, a victory. So he’s trying not to be too sour about everything that's happened.

He continues down to the elevator shaft, again, as the hallways are completely flooded, still, and he has no idea what he’s going to find when he gets there, again. But this time the bots that he starts climbing over and past are definitely dead as not a single one so much as shivers as he pushes them out of the way and crawls into the elevator car. He spins around, looking at the various debris in the elevator, and frowns as he notices that the force of the water mangled the corpses to the point that they are little more than bones and cloth sitting in a pile against the opposite wall. He looks them over, and then gives a deep respectful bow before he rises and smiles. He speaks with a bubbly distorted sound with the water acting as a strange modulator on his voice as he says, “Thanks guys. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help you. But you helped me anyway. Rest easy.” Then he looks up, turns off his implant, and jumps up towards the escape hatch again.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Activated

But, this time, it proves to be more than a little problematic as he has the claws sticking out of the sides of his legs and makes him have to finagle himself to get them through. After a bit of struggling, he decides to stop fighting against the claws, and instead try and use them himself. With a change in tactics he thrusts his right foreleg through the hole completely, close to the left side of the gap, claw and all, then slides it back over to the right side and uses the claws to hook and hold onto the elevator roof while he did the exact same, but inverted, maneuver with his left foreleg. Gearing dangles there by the claws and smirks as he says, “Wonderglue is ridiculous… I just wish I had a medical brace so I could have done this properly instead of this butcher shop job.” Gearing hoists himself up on top of the elevator and quickly looks around.

But, despite his secret hidden hope, the water level hasn’t apparently dropped. He’s not sure if some other water is constantly being pushed in to keep the area’s flood level the same, or if the water level in the elevator shaft was just so high that even with the new drainage hole the annihilator carved through the doors that the level is still so high that it’s outside of his view despite the ongoing loss. And then there’s the fact that there are no chains, rope, cabling, or anything else new that he could use to get himself out. So Swift and Handy hadn’t been able to come up with a solution either. Gearing stares at the walls for a while as he grumbles, “The walls are just too slick to grab onto…”

The little blue pegasus looks at the wall, looks at him, looks at the wall, then at him again as a coy smile crosses his muzzle. ‘Are you sure about that?’ It rears up and starts waving its forelegs, showing a grouping of claws appearing along his limbs in the same pattern Gearing has along his. ‘I bet these have enough bite to get us up there.’

Gearing rolls his eyes as he snickers, “They’re claws, not teeth, but fair enough…” He walks over to the side of the elevator shaft and starts eyeballing the steel and concrete as he says, “It’s worth a shot after all.” He lifts up his foreleg and his eyes dart back and forth as he muses, “Dragons have climbed stone well enough with these… so … I should be able to as well, right?”

He walks over to the wall, rears up as far as he can, and slams the claw into the concrete facing. And his eyes go wide as he sees that the amount of oomph he put into it was disgustingly over what was needed as the claws sink in deeply and chunks of concrete fall away from the wall.

“No way!” both Gearing and his mental companion say in unison before doing the same with the other foreleg. Then he lifts his hind legs up and just dangles there for a few seconds as he looks around. “Okay… this… this is kinda cool.”

‘Now what?’ the little blue pegasus asks as he looks around completely confused.

As odd as it sounds, it’s a valid question, as the angles that he sunk the claws in, compounded with the angles that he has them glued to himself, combine to mean that his movement ranges are extremely hindered and he’s not really able to advance any. It takes him several tries to get any kind of progress figured out, before he actually pulls his body closer to the wall, and comes up with a pattern of climbing that involves him trying to walk on the underside of his cannons, where the claws are glued on, instead of his hooves. The more he works at it, the more the angles become more intuitive, and the faster he manages to climb up the elevator shaft.

One foreleg at a time, using only his forelegs and the claws attached to them, Gearing scales the deep elevator shaft as he performs a weird near shuffling crawl that ends up with his hindlegs dangling uselessly behind him as he moves claw by claw up the elevator shaft. He goes in as straight of a line as possible. There’s a possibility that he could get fancier with it, and get up faster, but he’s worked out a method that works, and right now that’s what he needs. The closest to giving up on his chosen method and doing something else doesn’t happen until he finally breaks the surface of the water and he looks back at his wings. They have regrown a substantial portion of crystal by this point, in fact the growth rate is not only noticeably faster, but has increased to the point that the crystals are growing at a rate easily detectable with the equine eye.

Which, seeing that, does make him happy, for a variety of reasons, but unfortunately his wings are not even close to being able to hold him up. And he knows it. From prior experience. Lots of prior experience. Painful experience. So instead of even dwelling on the fact that his precious beautiful wings are a useless mangled mess, he focuses all of his attention on the climb. One hoof in front of the other. One claw in front of the other. If he can manage it, he stabs steel, because he notices that it’s not only easier to sink into it, but that since it doesn’t break away he doesn’t have to worry about sliding back down, which he’s nearly done a couple times. So steel girder and reinforcement sheeting gets sacrificed again and again, at every available opportunity, just to give Gearing an easier hold on the walls.

Because he might be out of the water. But all that means is that he’s that much further from the bottom. And the further up he is, the longer and further he has to fall before impacting into the ground. And, with his luck, if he does fall, he’s sure that by the time he hits the bottom, the water will be drained, and he’ll hit nothing but steel, stone, and concrete. A landing that he’d really rather avoid at the moment.

He keeps his face curled around and down, watching and carefully aiming and executing each plunge of the claws. He doesn’t measure distance, because that would just bother his anxiety. He intentionally tries not to count how many steps he’s taking, because that would make him think of how far he has to fall. So he just mindlessly works on the task. Not thinking about it. And just doing it.

Yet, despite the attempted lack of thought, he ends up looking up just in time to see the lower lip of the elevator door frame come into view not much further above him. And the light pouring in from the still open elevator door. Gearing fights the urge to speed up. He’s too close. And a mistake now would mean having to start all over. And as he’s closing in he can’t help but count out how much more he needs to go based on distance. Four steps, and he’s digging into stone with his right foreleg. Three steps as he’s stabbing into a metal I-beam with his left foreleg. Two steps, nearly there, as the bottom lip of the elevator door frame gets punctured and turned into a hook hold. One step as Gearing’s foreleg hooks into the actual floor space of the level he’s been trying so desperately to get through, and the claws sink into the floor but catch on the outside of the elevator door frame. And Gearing quickly uses all of his limbs to scramble in the rest of the way onto the delightfully filthy and damp floor that he hasn’t seen since a lifetime ago. As he’s climbing out, and starts kicking his way away from the elevator shaft, his PipBuck chimes with a series of messages.

He quickly looks them over and realizes that, by some function of distance or interference, the message system couldn’t connect to the others, so they didn’t get his message when he’d originally sent it. He glances through the messages quickly and can’t help smirking as they had told him that they were working on a plan, but it was being slow. And then a fresh message pops up from Swift as he’s still trying to read the others.

[Well it’s nice of you to finally fucking reply! I’m glad you’re okay, but like I’d said we’re working on a way of getting you. If you manage to get out before we get done we’re in that maintenance supply closet thing you talked about when we first got here.]

Gearing snickers as he rolls over, stands up, and starts walking down the walk way towards the ponyhole cover where they’d entered the tunnels. He has a smile on his face as he gets further down the tunnel, and it only gets wider as a blue marker pops up on the edge of his EFS. He’d turned it off and kept it off down in the deep sections because it’d be useless with that maze. And only served as a distraction. But, in this case, it’s acceptable. Because it’s always nice to see a blue marker in a sea of red.

Gearing hears a grinding metallic noise as he’s walking into the circular area that surrounds the ladder down from the pony hole above. He carefully walks around the water filled impression, having decided he’s spent more than enough time submerged for one day, and heads to the door of the maintenance closet. He slowly walks up and peeks in as he looks for the blue marker. And there, just inside and steadily at work at the table, is Handy. Around his hooves is an immense amount of chains and ropes and cabling. And as Gearing is watching he sees that the sound he’d heard when he’d walked up was Handy, wearing a welding helmet, cutting into and modifying the chains. More specifically, he’s cutting into links, and using the tools to use the improvised split rings to attach the various chains together. One weld at a time. And Handy does just that, setting two ends of chain together, connecting them with one of the cut loops, hammering it closed again, then welding the gap with a torch.

And judging by the pile around Handy, he’s been working at it for a while.

Gearing steps in slowly as he knocks on the door as Handy grabs another link and prepares to cut into it with a power saw.

Handy’s helmeted head jerks over towards Gearing, and he stops dead in his tracks as he stares at Gearing. Handy uses the back of the power saw and pushes the mask of the welding helmet out of the way, revealing his saucer plate sized eyes, before he asks softly, “Gearing?”

Gearing, leans sideways onto the door frame and grins as he says, “Hey, Handy.” He gives him a wink as he says, “I told ya I’d find my own way out.”

“You could have said you already got out and were on your way, jackass!” Swift screams as she comes zipping in from behind at full flight speed. She chucks a bundle of rope that she’d been carrying to the side into the tunnel, spins around, and bucks Gearing right in his rear as she comes in for a hard and fast landing by planting her forelegs for a proper double smack. “My hooves, your ass!”

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

Please Stand By. . .

--=ERROR=--

Please Stand By. . .

Reinitializing in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

75 New Directions

The impact into Gearing’s hind quarters is significant as he gets knocked clean into the room, and smacks into the shelves next to where Handy’s working before crashing tail over mane into the pile of chains and makeshift cabling around the workbench. Handy jumps back and away from the table, with a visible wince on his face as he watches Gearing come in for an unexpected and unpleasant crash landing. The shelving teeters and slowly falls over as the damage done both from Gearing crashing into it and partially crushing part of it, and the claws on one side of him ripping slashes clean through the supports, is more than enough to make it unstable.

Swift flips in through the door to the maintenance storage room, doing an about-face, as she starts waving her powerhoof in Gearing’s direction. “What’s the big idea pulling that shit!? You have any idea how hard we’ve been busting our flanks to try and rescue your sorry ass?! Why didn’t you say something and let us know you were okay sooner?!”

Gearing tumbles around, twisting various ways as he tries to pull himself together and climb out of the chains. After some effort he manages to flip around and right side up, into a mostly seated position, as he turns and looks at her with his eyes narrowed and replies flatly, “I did… the message just didn’t get sent until I made it back up. Just like I didn’t get your messages until I got back within signal range…”

Swift pauses shaking her hoof at him as the scowl across her face slowly fades away. “You serious?”

Gearing nods slowly as he starts flicking the chains off of himself and scraping the ones that somehow ended up looping around the claws sticking out of his forelegs. “Yeah… I got all of your messages, except that last one, as soon as I made it out of the elevator shaft.”

“OOohhhhh,” Swift says softly as her voice trails off. She gives him a sheepish grin before she asks, “Well… how’d you get out then? Fly?”

Gearing shakes the chains off his back, and stares her in the eyes for a few moments before stretching out his left wing, and showing the mangled crystal covered mesh where his once glorious green stained glass segments once had been. “Since I can’t fly now… no…” As her eyes shoot to their widest, Gearing raises his right foreleg and tilts it so they can see the claws he’s glued on to them. “I glued these spikes to myself, and climbed my way up.”

Handy tosses the helmet to the side as he stares at him and asks, “Climbed? The vertical shaft? The whole way?!”

Gearing looks over at him and asks, “Well what the fuck else was I supposed to do?”

Handy waves over at the pile they’d been working on and says softly, “We’ve been trying to make a cable system long enough to drop it down for you. But it’s so far down that we’ve been having a hard time finding the materials… I’ve been having to improvise a lot here.”

Gearing looks over at him and smiles as he dips his head in his direction. “It’s appreciated. Really. Actually I wish I just stayed in the shaft. Things probably woulda turned out a lot better if I just waited on you.”

Handy smirks as he looks away but waves a hoof at him. “Awww what are you talking about… You got out on your own… You didn’t need us.”

Swift walks over slowly as her eyes trail over Gearing’s form. She eyeballs the spikes sticking out of his sides, then trails up to the rifle he has slung over his back, and she balks as she notices how bent it is. “What the hell happened to you?” She gives a faint smile as she points at her own head. “Did you get a building dropped on your head again? You’re doing your old mummy impersonation.”

“I got a whole transport of whoop ass dropped on me…” Gearing groans as he turns and looks at her, but sits down as he tries to focus on the feelings all over his body.

“You’re head alright?” She asks as she leans in and starts carefully looking at the bandage job on the left side of his head.

Handy walks around and next to her as he stares at it and says with a wince, “It… looks like it’s out of alignment…” His eyes jump down to Gearing’s and he balks for a second before he waves a hoof defensively. “I’m not trying to be weird, I can’t think of any word that’d make sense, it just looks like it’s not seated correctly!”

Gearing nods as he says softly, “Yeah, I’d had a lot of problems with everything down there. I should heal just fine…” He shakes his head and smiles as he waves his foreleg. “I ran into an enervation field like you wouldn’t believe down there. It’s like it was ripping me apart and I barely got out of there.”

Handy waves a forehoof at Gearing’s face as he asks, “You want us to take a look? Just tell us what you need us to do and we’ll do it, no questions asked.”

Swift smiles as she nods. “We’re not Sable, but between the two of us I’m sure we’d manage.”

Gearing nods and points up at his head. “Yeah. If you would. I’m not entirely sure if I got it in the right place, going by feel isn’t always the best way.” He looks down then gives them a sheepish smile as he says, “I’m sorry, but could you get the bandage off? These claws are making it hard to do pretty much anything and it’s going to take some time and turpentine to get them off.”

Swift giggles as she hops forward and starts undoing the bandage. “Sure! But, why’d you glue them on yourself instead of like… making clawed versions of powerhooves? Couldn’t you like, strap them onto those medical braces you have and have a set of climbing claws really quick?”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Yeah, I could, but I left most of that kind of stuff back at Megamart, I didn’t want to have to worry about added weight and things I didn’t really need.”

Swift smirks as she continues to unwrap the soggy bandage. As she’s nearing the end, she starts using both hooves to hold onto the side of Gearing’s face. And then adds a wing. And as the bandage mostly falls away, except where she’s currently pressing against his face, her eyes go to their absolute widest. Her mouth opens. As if she’s about to say something. But then it shivers and closes quickly again. She trips and chokes on her words as she keeps her focus on the left side of Gearing’s head.

Gearing looks at her with just his eyes and lets out a snort of amusement as he says, “You don’t have to keep it pressed so hard, it’s fine.”

Swift’s eyes go a bit wider, somehow, and she glances sideways at Handy’s whose own eyes start increasing the amount of white that’s being shown.

“It’s fine, really, it’s not hurting me,” Gearing comments as he changes his focus to Handy.

Handy keeps staring where Swift is holding, and asks softly, “You sure? You sure that doesn’t hurt, Gearing?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Handy. Why?” Gearing asks as he raises his right eyebrow.

“Because something is wrong,” Swift comments softly. She pulls her hooves back towards herself, with a cupping action as her voice changes a few octaves, “Really really wrong…”

Gearing turns his head towards her, and instantly his eyes are drawn down to her hooves. He stares at what’s in her hooves, and tries to focus as he tries to comprehend exactly what she’s holding. He tilts his head to the side a bit, rotated so that his right ear raises high in the air.

In rapid succession, a cascading of clinking and tinkling comes from Gearing’s left, and increases dramatically in volume for him at the same time. Swift and Handy’s faces morph into pure abject horror and revulsion as Gearing turns to look for whatever chain just fell over.

Instead the chains next to him are covered in a smattering of shiny brass pieces. Of various sizes. And when he looks down, the vision in his left eye simultaneously widens, as if his peripheral vision has increased, but blurs as a few more pieces fall off from around his face.

The pain in the left side of Gearing’s head increases and he lifts up his left foreleg, but it shudders and shakes, before a sprocket pops completely loose from his shoulder and falls off of him causing his leg to list unnaturally. And his hoof comes right back down quickly as he has a hard time keeping his balance.

Gearing’s left eye seems to barely be held in his head, as the eyelids themselves have entirely fallen away from him, as he looks at Swift and Handy and asks softly, “What’s…. what’s going on…”

“You’re… you’re falling apart,” Handy says in a soft gush of air.

Swift drops the pieces she’d been holding, hops forward, and grabs Gearing by his chest as she turns and pushes him over and onto his right side to make him lay down. And, surprisingly, and even more worryingly for her, she has no real trouble in accomplishing the task. She looks at his face as she asks quickly, “Gearing, Gearing can you hear me?”

Gearing’s jaw shutters as he gasps for breath to talk, “Yeah…?”

“Gearing, how can we fix you? Come on, you gotta tell us… how can we fix you?”

“I… I don’t know… this never happened before…”

Handy leans over and asks, “Potions? You think potions would work?”

“All gone… enervation ruined them,” Gearing says softly as he goes still.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head lays sprawled out with its limbs in every direction as it asks, ‘Why do I feel like, I’m out of energy… I feel so weak…’

“Potions! Get all the potions,” Swift yells as she carefully tilts Gearing’s head with one foreleg as she rummages through her bag with the other.

Quickly Handy takes over the task of sorting through her bag as she brings up a potion and pops the cork off with her teeth. She holds the bottle with a wing and says soothingly, “Come on, Gearing, open your mouth and drink this.” His jaw shivers and shutters, but instead of really opening it simply goes slack. And she decides that’s good enough as she pours the purple liquid in a tiny stream into Gearing’s open maw. But, it doesn’t quite go down, and the first bits actually spill out the other side despite her efforts, so she tilts his muzzle upwards and just pours it straight down his throat. “I really hope you still can’t drown…” Swift moans as the fluid splashes in his muzzle and starts going down the back of his mouth like a funnel.

As fuzzy headed as Gearing is, he notices that the liquid poured into his mouth doesn’t seem to have any effect. In fact, he can’t really taste it at all. It doesn’t really have a taste, as much as it has a wetness. And he can feel the temperature change, and where it’s going based on that. But, beyond that, nothing.

And it starts making him really worry and start fighting to focus more. But, as the fluid does pour down his throat. It’s not completely useless. The feeling starts off from the inside of him. From where the potion had come to rest in whatever voids it can fall into. Areas that aren’t nearly as damaged as the outside from all of the trials he’s been put through today. And from that area a spark grows. And grows. And he feels the tingling radiating out from his stomach and chest. And then in very noticeable lines and patterns within his jaw and other parts of his body. As the second potion is poured down his throat, Gearing starts leaning towards it, instinctively, and eventually even bites on the end of the bulb and tilts his head back as he greedily sucks that one down as well. And with this second one the warmth starts spreading out towards his limbs. And his wings. But, as the tingling travels outwards, there is a very unpleasant backlash. As the reestablished and awakened connections start letting him know one very clear fact.

He’s far worse than what he’d originally thought, and the flood of pain that he’s starting to be made aware of is because his entire body was so damaged that it wasn’t even responding correctly to what functions as his nervous system.

But he has one thing no other clockwork has ever had. An implant specifically designed to redirect healing where it was needed most, and with a will to keep him alive at all costs. So the implant is bypassing entire areas, even largely seriously wounded areas, to target more critically important zones. It crisscrosses his entire body with a lattice of healing as it tries to spread the healing energies as much as possible in a bid to keep him together.

Because Handy was right. He was starting to fall apart. Literally.

By the time the third potion is shoved down his muzzle, Gearing is having a panic session of his own. The lack of sensations in most of his body was disregarded as not problematic, but in fact was exceedingly problematic, and was actually a symptom of what was wrong with him. And when the third potion actually starts teasing his muzzle with tingling goodness, he can’t help but hold it in his mouth as well as he can.

“We’ve only got two more,” Handy says as he holds them up and looks at Swift. She glances at him with a daggered eyed stare and he adds quickly, “I’m just saying we need to use them in the best way possible for him. We’re getting out of here. He needs way more than we have. But I’m not sure what’s better, to just give him the potions now, or save them and give them to him along the way and hope he heals better that way.” He waves a hoof over towards the left side of Gearing’s head as he says, “And what the hell are we supposed to do about that? He’s missing practically half of his face and his damn ear just fell right the fuck off of his body!”

“Wh-what?” Gearing asks as he looks between them quickly. “My ear?!”

Swift pats him on the side of the muzzle as she says, “It’ll be fine, Gearing. You’ll heal up. You always do. Remember? You’ve had this happen before. It’ll be okay.”

Gearing looks around for a moment as he tries to piece together everything that’s going on and why this might be happening to him. And the memory of the pieces sticking to his hoof when he touched his face in that lunch room break area, while the ghouls died around him, flashes before his mind. Especially how he couldn’t even feel touching himself. He could feel his hoof touching his face, but not the other way around. It was a strange sensation, almost as if he was touching some-thing and not touching a part of his own body.

Tick.

Tick.

Click!

The realization drops on him like a ton of bricks as he flinches with his whole body at the thought. He chokes and gasps on his own words before he gurgles out, “Inert! They went inert while still attached to my fucking body!? How?! That’s not supposed to happen!?”

He reaches up with his left foreleg to feel his face, and Swift tries to stop him, “Don’t do that, it’ll only make it worse!” But he forces his way through anyways and starts gingerly touching at the sticky strange shapes poking out of the side of his head.

“It’s gone… it’s all gone… the ear, the whole side, all of it…” Gearing mutters as he pauses and tries to think of how and why this damage could be so consolidated. The ghoul’s bite comes to mind, but one had bit him on the back of the neck, and had been there for a considerable amount of time longer than the one that bit his face, so he doesn’t think that’s it. He’s sure it had to be something unique to that area that the back of his neck, and hindleg, didn’t have. He slowly lowers his forehoof as he asks, “Does… does this look like the same kind of damage that I had when we took off the helmet from my head?”

Swift and Handy look at each other, then slowly lean over and look at the oozing wound covered in partially transparent fluid.

“Actually…” Swift starts, but keeps looking at it carefully.

“Now that you mention it, yeah… isn’t that the side that got hurt?” Handy comments as his eyes trail over the various twisted pieces of metal jutting out of the side of Gearing’s face.

“It aggravated the wound. It was healed, but I guess that ghoul that bit me made it worse. But… somehow it made the wound go inert and fall off. Fucking enervation…” Gearing mutters as he stares straight ahead.

“I thought they don’t go inert if they’re attached?” Handy asks.

Gearing lets out a sigh as he says, “They don’t normally, but injured parts do have a tendency to get shed a bit earlier than normal. Especially bad wounds that aren’t directly healed with magic. It’s normally not that bad of a situation though. But apparently this hastened the process and made the parts prematurely get cast off… Before they were ready at that…”

Swift looks his face over as she asks, “Okay, but, how does that help us treat you?”

Gearing’s eyes drift around aimlessly for a moment before he asks softly, “Do you have any gems?”

Swift and Handy look at each other for a moment, with Swift arching an eyebrow at the strange question. Handy smirks as he asks, “Why, going to surprise us with being part dragon and wanna snack?” He gets a pop on his foreleg from Swift before he adds, “No sorry.”

“Magical ammo cartridges maybe?” Gearing asks with more than a bit of hope in his strained voice.

“Sorry, Gearing, we’ve only been finding and using bullets. Any of the other stuff we’ve been trading off since we don’t use it. Why, think it’d help?” Swift asks as she leans closer to Gearing’s face.

“Damn,” Gearing groans. “It might of, yeah. Possibly. But don’t worry about it if we don’t have any.”

“Soooo…?” Handy asks as he looks back and forth and is obviously trying to find some sort of guidance here from one of them.

Gearing lets out a groan as he says, “We’ve only got two potions, and one serious injury…” He looks up at her and limply waves at the side of his head. “This is going to sound screwed up, but just pour one of the potions directly into the seeping wound. There should be enough healing ability in it to at least keep it from getting any worse. At best it’ll help the parts underneath mature faster so they can take over the job.”

“And then you drink the last one?” Handy asks.

“And then I drink the last one,” Gearing adds. “After we get my wings un-mangled so it doesn’t try to waste any more magical energy on working out the bends when we can do that ourself.”

Swift opens the second to last potion and carefully holds it over the gaping hole on the left side of Gearing’s face as she scrunches her nose. “This is so gross…” And then she starts pouring a slow steady thin stream of the thick purple liquid into the crevices of his gears. She trails it up and, not getting any other feedback, pours a good portion of the potion straight into the hole where Gearing’s ear had been and now isn’t much more than a near rose petal configuration of mangled thin plates. It seems to be the right course of action as the purple coated brass starts twisting and moving and, in a few cases, growing in size right before their eyes. And she doesn’t stop pouring until the entire potion has been used to flood the area with its healing goodness. As they watch carefully, with Gearing not moving, the potion starts seeping in even deeper into Gearing as the liquid level starts lowering. Though part of that can easily be blamed by the slow steady stream of bubbles coming from the void of Gearing’s left ear as the fluid decides to fill up the clockwork equivalent of sinuses.

None of them move, with Handy and Swift watching carefully as Gearing just does his best to try and not make matters worse. And they simply let the liquid work.

After a while, Gearing finally declares, “Alright, I think it’s done about as much as it’s going to… now for the sucky part…”

Gearing rolls over and Swift and Handy begin the process of trying to help straighten out Gearing’s wings for him. It’s a horrendous process for all concerned, especially for Swift as she can’t help but imagining her own wings being so violently treated. Some pieces of the metal framework are so brittle, that they snap and sheer right off instead of bending. And to make matters worse, they actually end up having to fight against Gearing’s healing implant. The implant is doing it’s best to try and heal him, but the rate that it straightens out the metal is slower than the crystal regrowth. Which means they have to regularly break and shatter pieces of crystalline wing in order to move some of the framework. And in other cases the crystals shatter anyway from the torque being applied to pieces they are adjusting. To say the process is unsettling, for all involved, would be an understatement. Because though it may be necessary to do, there’s nothing they can do for him for the pain. Not the pain he’s already in, nor the pain they are constantly inflicting on him. And it’s noticeable, despite how hard Gearing tries his best not to grunt, whimper, or even react to what’s happening to him.

And, in this moment, both Swift and Handy realize why Gearing wanted to be alone with Sable while he was worked on. The misery is palpable in the air itself as they feel like they are torturing and mistreating him.

They aren’t entirely sure how to go about it. But, in this case, Handy’s mechanically minded habits give credence to his own name. He doesn’t know exactly how Gearing’s wings function. But the articulation on them is so precise that he’s able to figure it out and keep making adjustments until his wings are mostly in the shape they should be and actually move around with relative ease under his manual manipulations.

And when that unpleasant business is over, they finally give Gearing the last potion. But, instead of chugging it quickly as they’d expect from him. He lays there with it. Gingerly sipping on it as he takes quite a while to nurse the one bottle like he was some sort of depressed barfly in a tavern.

As they sit off to the side, watching spurts of healing and repair take place all over Gearing’s body, Swift asks, “So, you going to run around giving idiots Da Business with those claws, or you going to take them off?”

Gearing pauses halfway through his bottle as he comments flatly, “They’re Wonderglued on. But I got some turpentine in my bag to get them off.”

“Mind if I…?” Handy asks as he starts moving towards Gearing, but stops as he awaits permission.

The pair shares eye contact for a few seconds before Gearing gives just the faintest hint of a nod before he uses his PipBuck and gets the container to the top of his saddle bag. “It should be right on top.”

Handy opens Gearing’s bag and, sure enough, the brand new container is right on top. As he’s pulling it out he asks, “How’d you find a sealed one? I bet this cost a pretty cap.”

Gearing shakes his head as he’s taking another sip. After swishing it around in his mouth a few times, and slowly swallowing, he comments, “Found it down below. There’s a fully stocked maintenance bay down there.”

Swift smirks as she leans down and asks, “How much did you bring back? Pilfer it all?”

Gearing smirks as he says, “In normal circumstances, I’d barely be walking…” He brings the bottle up to his lips and says with a scoff, “That place is a fucking death trap…” before taking another swig of the healing potion.

As Handy gets to work using the turpentine to remove the claws from Gearing he asks, “Speaking of death traps… What the hell was with that wall of water? The bots I get, automatic security… but that was…”

“A death trap?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow and in a tone that sounds more like he’s making fun of Handy for being slow on the uptake.

“Yeah… what’s that about?”

Gearing finishes off the potion bottle, then starts tilting it so the dregs will accumulate where he can get them as he says, “I just said it, Handy, the whole place was a fucking death trap.”

“You mean, intentional trap?” Handy asks with his eyes wide open.

“Yeah… an intentional trap…” Gearing says flatly.

“Did that fucking Lodestar set us up?!” Swift asks as she jumps up to her hooves.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve been wondering about that,” Gearing admits.

Handy waves a forehoof to calm Swift down before he says, “Okay, hold on, before we go bat shit, what happened?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks around and tries to think of exactly what to say. While it is true that the systems and alarms and all of the problems didn’t occur until after he was digging into the system to try and get into The Core, there is just one bit of information that causes serious doubt for him that that was actually the cause: The fact of how quickly they found him. He’s good. He’s fast. But not even he’s that fast. It was like they were already monitoring the closet remotely, and watching him to see what he did. And after the sirens went off about the detonation in MiraMare they decided play time was over and wanted him out. Then there’s the fact that the section itself was flooded in order to kill anyone in the area. But only that section. Loop after loop he runs through it in his mind and eventually comes to the solution with the highest probability: that he’s pretty sure he’s not the one that woke the system up. After all, the commands were coming in remotely from inside The Core.

‘The alternative is that we’re the ones, or at least helped, the security system come online because of our intrusion…’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments as he puts his dice away into a small pull string pouch. ‘And it’d suck to have done this to ourselves.’

“Handy, I’m not positive about anything… but what I do know is that it wasn’t set up by Lodestar. However, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware of it. And since he’s already been to that room before, it causes other problems, because that means he got out of there… Considering he got out, that means they let him leave at best, or, at worst, he made a deal with them and they let him leave. I don’t see any other options. He’d had to of known.”

“Who let him go? The security?” Swift asks as she looks back and forth.

Gearing tilts the bottle, and quickly laps out the rest of the healing potion’s last couple drops near the inside lip of the bottle as he shakes his head. “No… Someone was monitoring that closet. And it wasn’t a standard security automatic response. Not with the way they were talking.”

“You talked with them?!” Handy asks as his eyes go wide. Gearing gives a slight nod and he asks, “What’d they say?”

“Basically told me to go fuck myself, said I couldn’t have the data, ranted about owning Equestria, and then cut the hard line when they couldn’t purge me from the system.”

“And that’s when the murder bots and tsunami showed up?” Swift asks with a raised eyebrow.

Gearing twirls around the bottle with his forhooves as he groans, “Yeeaaah… That’s when things went from bad, to worse, to Nightmare Moon’s wet dream…”

“Convenient,” Swift says with a snort as she looks at Handy, who’s scowl is growing by the second, even by Handy standards. She looks over at Gearing and asks, “So, what you gonna do?”

Gearing curls his hooves around the bottle as he sighs. “Look, I don’t know for sure. But I want some fucking answers. But if he set us up I wanna kill the sonovabitch.” He reaches his forehooves up and starts mimicking grabbing the air. “And I don’t mean simply a bullet to the head. Oooohhhh no. I mean I want to grab him by his lying stinking throat, and strangle him with my own hooves. And just keep on squeezing until his head fucking pops off like a cheap ass Flim Flam brothers made toy!”

“I just knew that buck was a slime ball! He didn’t want to pay us what he owes and wants to keep all of the things to himself! I shoulda kicked his ass in Megamart when I had the chance!” Handy scowls as he hits the ground repeatedly with alternating forehooves. “He tried to get us killed instead of coughing up the info. After we saved his life. That’s low. That’s real low!”

Swift smirks as she waves a hoof nonchalantly, “Nah, we woulda been fine. I’d have just kicked the ass of anyone that tried!”

“No, you wouldn’t, Swift,” Gearing says flatly.

“What?” She looks over at him and rolls her eyes before she snorts and looks over at the wall. “You really underestimate what I’m capable of, Gearing…”

“You have no idea what was down there… There was security turrets set up specifically to shoot down fliers… There’s military grade front line hardened assault drones down there… And it doesn’t matter how many you destroy because there’s factories churning them out just as fast, or faster, than they are taken out… Not to mention the vast stockpile they have locked away in the very walls…”

Swift smirks as she looks at him. “You’re joking…”

Gearing shakes his head. “No, and that’s not even the worst of it… Swift, there’s enervation fields down there so strong that living things are ripped apart in short order… Any organics that blunder into the wrong area end up liquefied. And if you already have an injury that just makes it go that much quicker. A single scratch gets magnified to ridiculous portions…” He raises a hoof and points at the left side of his head as he says. “I’m pretty sure that’s what did all of this to me… Swift, it sucked the very life out of me and turned the other creatures into puddles of goo… Do you really think you’d fair well in that? Come on, don’t be stupid…”

“Well… I mean… I have my own tricks…” Swift says lamely as she looks away.

“Swift,” Gearing says sternly as he lifts his head and looks right at her. “It doesn’t matter what creature it was… what kind of organic… flesh liquefied right off the bones. Hell, the couple potions I had turned so rancid that even I could taste how bad they were.” He lays his head down and closes his eye as he says, “ You would have died… you both would have died… All three of us would have most likely died… Anyone that goes down there is just going to die…”

Swift gives him a weak smile as she waves towards him. “Well… you got out so-”

Gearing cuts her off as he snaps, “I shouldn’t have!” Both Handy and Swift’s eyes go wide at the forcefulness of his assertion as he whips his head back up to look at her. “I really shouldn’t be alive right now! The only reason I am is pure dumb ass luck and because of something I simply forgot to take out of my bag back at Megamart. That’s it!” He lays his head down as he groans, “That and a security bot that I hacked and tricked into carrying me all the way out.”

Handy and Swift stare at him for a moment before Handy asks, with more confusion than anything, “Why didn’t any of the other bots try and stop you? If you got control of the entire net it wouldn’t have been a problem anymore, right?”

Gearing lets out a sigh then looks over at Swift. “You remember that ghoul caravanner mare we ran into? The one with the song and dance routine?”

“Song and dance routine?” Handy asks with a shake of his head and utter confusion in his voice.

Swift smirks as she asks, “The one you were flirting with hardcore?”

The comment draws a startled look from Handy, which slowly morphs into disbelieving disgust as one side of his lip curls and scrunches up.

Gearing snorts and says softly, “Yeah… her…” He clears his throat unnecessarily before saying louder, “Remember that extra tip she gave me afterwards?”

Handy waves both of his forehooves and looks away from him as he hangs his tongue out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I don’t want to hear anymore about any kind of ‘tip’ you got from a ghoul nor why she felt inclined to give you one!”

Swift gives Handy an amused side eyed smirk as she says, “Get your mind out of the gutter, ya perv.” She looks back at Gearing as she asks, “What about it?”

Gearing lets out a sigh before he says, “Well, she gave me the broadcaster I’ve been using to keep in touch. It was compatible with my PipBuck and gave me the option for long term broadcasting to send messages one way. So I was really excited about that.”

Swift raises an eyebrow as she asks, “And why’s that important?”

“And why didn’t you just use that to tell us you’re okay?” Handy asks.

Gearing looks at Handy and frowns as he says, “Because for you to have had any chance of receiving the message without making modifications to your PipBuck, you’d have to have your radio on. Which you don’t walk around with it turned on usually. And since it’s a broadcaster it would let them know I was still in there and it’d help them find where I was by tracing me. So, no fucking thanks.” Handy frowns and rolls his eyes as he nods and concedes the point.

“Well,” Gearing starts, “that wasn’t the only thing in the bundle she gave me…” He reaches over and holds up his foreleg where the module is still sticking out of his PipBuck. “She gave me a Stealthbuck too…” he pulls his foreleg in tightly to his chest and rests it under his chin in a semi caressing nuzzle. “If it wasn’t for this I’d likely be dead… I just hitched a ride on the back of the sentry bot and got through the security checkpoints that way.” He shrugs with a groan before he says with a gush of air, “Dumb fucking luck that that mare gave it to me, and that I didn’t leave it behind, that’s the only reason I’m alive right now. And it wouldn’t have worked on two let alone three of us… As it is it wore off before I got out of there anyway…”

Swift smirks as she looks down at Gearing. “Sounds like you owe that mare an extra special thank you the next time you see her.”

“And an apology, in whatever form she wants,” Gearing replies deadpan as he doesn’t even move. “I owe a lot of mares an apology…” Gearing says with a sigh. He lifts his head and looks at Swift as he says, “Swift, I’m sorry.”

Swift rolls her eyes and waves it away with a hoof. “Where’d the hell that come from? You don’t owe me an apology… Not your fault you got stuck… just… try not to let it happen again…”

Gearing lays his head down and closes his eye as he says with a groan. “It just kind of dawned on me how shit I’ve treated mares in the past… Caring mothers especially… my own included… So… sorry…”

Handy looks back and forth before he leans in closer and asks softly, “What the fuck happened down there?”

“I got a glimpse of hell and didn’t like the taste…”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing head lets its tongue hang out until it rolls along the floor as it just keeps on growing to absurd lengths. ‘Like that damn rotten potion!’

Handy frowns as he changes his focus to look at his wife. After a few moments of eye contact he asks, “So what are we going to do about Lodestar screwing us over like this?”

Swift lets out a sigh as she says, “Well, without the data we’re not going to have any leverage, so that’s gonna be tricky.”

“Got it,” Gearing says flatly.

Swift and Handy’s focus both jump to him as they ask in unison, “What?!”

Gearing weakly lifts his foreleg, with the PipBuck on it, before letting it fall back to the ground. “I got it… I managed to download it before getting too far out of range, since I was stuck in the same area for so long… I mean… not all of it… but a good amount of it at least…” He lets out a groan as he says, “Enough to be worthwhile to someone, I’m sure.”

Swift wraps a foreleg around his shoulders as she starts energetically rocking him side to side. “You did that while trotting through hell?! That’s amazing, great job!”

Handy looks at Gearing, sharing eye contact for a few seconds before giving him a rare smile. “Thanks crazy… good job.”

“So, Lodestar?” Swift asks as she looks between them.

“Kill the backstabbing pile of shit, and sell the data to whoever has the parts we need?” Handy asks with his eyes narrowed and a matter of fact tone to his voice.

“Gearing?” Swift asks as she looks down at him.

“As much justice might get served by killing him before he gets anyone else killed, I have some serious concerns,” Gearing grumbles as he sits and just tries to let his body heal and not do anything to hamper his implants’ functions.

“Such as?” Handy asks with a nearly accusational tone that makes it clear he’s already not happy with where this is going.

“First, I don’t know for a fact that he set us up-”

“You said yourself that there’s no way he couldn’t have known!” Handy blurts out and interrupts him.

“There is the possibility that whoever is watching decided not to act because he couldn’t get into the system. Because doing that would show their cards and let the outside world know that they’re there… And that’s assuming that they didn’t start monitoring it until at that point or after he’d left. It would be the smart thing to do,” Gearing replies reasonably.

‘There’s also the small, teeny, tiny possibility that we’re the ones that triggered it ourselves, that we woke up the system with what we were doing…’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments as it plays with the little bag holding his dice.

And I’m not killing someone who might be innocent… but we can’t tell them that, Gearing mentally replies.

“That’s a big ‘if’ there, ain’t it Gearing?” Swift asks.

“Yeah, a ‘not bloody likely’ ‘if’,” Handy quips with a disgusted snort as he looks off to the side.

“It still exists, and I want to know for sure before I do something permanent that can’t be undone,” Gearing says softly.

“That’s ridiculously forgiving!” Handy says as he flails his forelegs around. “I mean look at you! And I ended up with a gash on my shoulder that got all fucked up and took a potion to get rid of!” His face twists up in rage, scrunches one way, then the other, and Gearing opens the one eye that has the ability to open and close at the moment and looks at him as Handy seems to have a localized facial seizure while trying to figure out what obscenity to scream out next.

Then Handy whips his head over to the side, while leaning his head back, and comes back forward with a whiplash inducing, room echoing, sneeze. A sneeze so powerful his tail whips up in an arch from the recoil. A huge blob of thick mucus trails out of his nose and he uses a shop rag to wipe his nose before blowing a soppy sounding exhale into the red cloth that quickly starts filling up like a diaper. He leans over and groans as he moans, “My fucking head…”

“You alright?” Gearing asks as he looks between them.

Swift gives Gearing a sheepish shoulder shrug as she says, “Well… apparently he wasn’t joking when he said he thought he’d caught a cold.”

“Told you!” Handy says as he looks over at her with one eye as he finishes wiping the snot off his nose before tossing the laden shop rag into the far corner of the room. The others stare at it as it splats against the wall. And hangs there. For far longer than it should have before it finally slips off and plops onto the ground.

“So, what then?” Handy asks as he resumes the conversation and tries to ignore what he’d just unleashed onto the world.

“Uhm… right…” Gearing blinks a few times before he says, “Well. There’s also the problem that Lodestar’s part of Happy Trails which means they’re Finders… and that brings up a whole mess of issues because I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to build up a relationship with them. And if I do anything it could really ruin any chances of getting anything further from them… not just supplies, but leads and information…”

“So, what? You just want to log a complaint with that manager, what’s her name, Bottlecap?” Handy asks with a smirk. “Tell her her employee’s been a bad colt and needs to be sent to his room without dinner or given a slap on the hoof? You can’t be serious?”

“I’d feel better if we talked to someone that knows more about what might happen and how big of a deal it could be. Someone that won’t feel obliged to go and report the situation on their own and give them a heads up we’d made it out alive and aren’t happy about how things turned out,” Gearing says with a groan.

Swift taps on her muzzle for a bit, before a sly smile crosses her face. “Oh… I think I know just who we can talk to and get the lay of the land… and… I’m pretty sure they’ll be more than willing to tell us all we need to know, while not tipping Lodestar off to what we know… hell… they might even help us with whatever we decide after we tell them what’s all going on.”

Handy and Gearing both look at each other before Handy looks at her and asks, “Who?”

Swift savors the anticipation of the moment for being the one to think of it. But, also for the reaction that she’s sure she’s going to get. “Well… that’s simple…” She waves her hoof around for a few seconds, far longer than necessary as she drags out the pause for dramatic reasons alone. “Big!”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he asks, “Big Daddy?! Why him!?”

Gearing lets out a groan and lays his head back on the ground as he closes his eye, eliciting a giggle from Swift.

She reaches out and taps on his foreleg a bit as she says, “Hey, like it or not, you’re a qualified Reaper. Dems the rules. And word around is you fuck with one Reaper, you fuck with them all.” She waves her hoof around as she grins, “You don’t simply fuck over a Reaper, sending them into a death trap, and expect to get away with that. Backstabbing a Reaper? That’s bad for business. Backstabbing two? That’s bad for life expectancy!”

Gearing lowers his head and covers his muzzle with his foreleg as he gingerly tries to cover his lidless eye as well. “Crap.”

Swift reaches out and taps on his foreleg as she giggles again. “Been telling ya you can’t hide from him forever… and now’s a perfect time to go there… get some information… find out what’s all up… Maybe even get some help…” She sits down and tilts her head as she asks, “Why are you so against this?!” She waves a hoof towards him as she frowns. “Especially given your condition. This isn’t a time to be turning down a golden opportunity.”

Gearing pulls his leg away from his face and stares right at her for a few seconds before he says flatly, “Because I’m already spoken for, and he doesn’t seem like the type to take ‘no’ for an answer. So that’s going to cause a problem… Because…” He taps on the ground with a forehoof forcefully as he says, “There’s only one mare that’s ever been able to order me around and I’d actually listen to. The rest of equinity, hell the world, has to take a number and better ask… Any other ‘orders’ I get, I’ll take under advisement but I’m not doing shit just because someone thinks they’re above me and orders me to do anything… I’ve never responded well to that shit…”

Handy rolls his eyes and smirks as he says, “Speaking of Sable, you know we gotta wrap this up and get back there soon or she’s gonna start tracking us down.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he looks at Handy. “What are you talking about?”

Swift grins and then puts a hoof to her chest as she looks pointedly off to the side and slightly up towards the ceiling as she chimes in, “And if you think I’m going to cover for your ass when she comes asking why you’re not back yet, you better think again…”

Gearing rolls his eyes and lays down for a second as he grumbles and mutters to himself. Then he starts kicking and flailing around his legs as he says, “Alright already! Fine! We can go to the Arena and talk to Big Daddy about what we should do.”

“Great!” Swift says with an oversized grin as she closes her eyes and looks at him. “So, when do you wanna head out?”

“Sthooner the better,” Handy adds in, earning him a raised eyebrow from Gearing. It’s at this point, with enough healing having taken place, that Gearing’s hearing has gotten just better enough to hear the distortion in Handy’s voice. A tell tale one that tattles on the fact that Handy’s sinuses are probably as full of as much crap as a public port-a-potty outside of a hoofball stadium on game day.

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” Gearing says as he rocks a couple times side to side with the effort before he gets his hooves back under himself and starts picking himself up.

As Gearing is picking up the pieces of himself off the floor, Swift’s grin falls off her face as she asks softly, “Are you sure you should be moving now?”

“I need some pretty substantial healing, and that’s not going to happen with me sitting here. Not in any reasonable amount of time that is. Not with what supplies we have. My implant had a hell of a time trying to make up for what the damn enervation field was doing to me. The potions helped, but I need more, a lot more, or a lot more energy and potency… And we’re not getting that in here…”

Swift lets out a sigh as she looks him over again. “Well, how are your wings at least?”

“I’m grounded for a while. Easily. They’re mostly back together, it seems, but considering what the enervation field did to my face I don’t want to risk straining them too soon. They might fall apart or buckle under me mid flight. And, no thank you,” Gearing says with a quick dismissive wave of his forehoof.

“Well, come on, let’s go den,” Handy says as he waves with a forehoof towards the ladder outside of the maintenance room. “Dah sthooner we get out of here dah sthooner we get dere.”

As Gearing is slowly walking out through the door first he says with a smirk, “Make sure to grab some of those shop towels, sounds like you’re gonna need them.”

“Yah yah,” Handy says with a groan as he starts sorting through a shelf nearby.

“I’ll head up first and make sure nothing tries to surprise us,” Swift says quickly before jumping over Gearing, flying over to the ladder, and skittering up and out the remaining distance.

As Gearing gets to the hole and starts climbing the ladder, he hears Handy blowing his nose. He pauses climbing and looks over at the door as the sound changes tones and force, but then sounds like something pops as if a huge release of air escapes. “You alright in there, Handy?”

“Peachy!” Handy replies sarcastically with his voice muffled by the efforts and the fabric before he resumes blowing his nose. A moment later there’s another, louder, release of air before Handy yells with a mostly clear voice, “How is there so much coming out of such a small space?! This shouldn’t be possible!”

Gearing starts chuckling as he keeps his position. When Handy trots out to the ladder and looks up at him Gearing asks, “Feel better?”

“Breathing better at least, for now, so... yeah. Much!” Handy replies with a forced grin before they both start up the ladder again.

Once on the surface, Swift flutters around Gearing as she asks, “What took so long? I was about to come back down there.”

Gearing chuckles and waves off to the side as Handy is scampering out of the ponyhole. “Handy blew his brains out all over the wall. Such a mess.”

“Ahhh bite me you brass bastard… I’m sick, lemme alone…” Handy grumbles as he climbs out and starts walking past Swift with his head hanging low.

“Oh, you big baby, you’re gonna be fine,” Swift says with a smirk as she watches him walk away.

After Handy’s a distance away Gearing leans towards Swift and asks, “How bad is he? Really? Do we need to start looking for some antibiotics?”

Swift waves it off and smirks before she leans closer and whispers, “Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ve seen him like this before. I know exactly what this is and he’ll be fine…”

“And… what’s that?” Gearing asks as he looks back and forth.

Swift grins widely as she says, “He’s got the dreaded Buck Flu!” She giggles as she nods towards Handy. “Positively convinced he’s dying and he’s going to get absurdly grumpy and just want to lay about while whining about how bad he feels.” She waves it away with a giggle as she says, “It’s not the first time I’ve seen him do battle with such a ‘deadly disease’.”

They share a snicker then start following as Handy yells without looking back at them, “Ya’ll coming or what?!”

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

--=ERROR=--

Please Stand By. . .

Reinitializing in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

System Check in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

77 The Games We Play

It doesn’t take them very long after leaving Short Road’s group before the trio catches sight of the Hoofington Arena in the still early morning light. And, surprisingly to Gearing, they don’t run into any more trouble along the way. Which is a good thing given how useless Handy is currently, as he’s sprawled out over Swift’s back. Their path is free from any other issues as well. Not so much as a wayward oversized roach disturbs them. In fact a very definitive, and mostly clean, walking path, that’s more than large enough for carts and wagons to come and go, leads straight up to the main entrance of the old sports complex. Unlike many other roads that still have two century old wreckage on it hampering movement, these paths have had extreme pains taken to make, and keep, them clear for traffic. And, even from a distance, the trio can see a variety of creatures coming and going around the iconic nearly egg shaped structure.

Swift strolls next to Gearing at a casual pace, despite Handy still slung over her back, as she asks, “You ever visit this place back before the war?”

Gearing gives a quick shake of his head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Fucking hated sports… such a waste of time…” Gearing grumbles with a particularly sour scowl.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head slowly lays down as his head droops. ‘Man, I feel so tired… Drained even… like a spark battery that’s about to die… What’s going on? I don’t hurt anymore, that little cocktail worked a treat. Like it always does. But now I’m just feeling… bleh… foggy headed like I’m not all here. I feel… light, but in a bad way…’

Side effect from the enervation? Gearing mentally wonders.

‘Didn’t really start noticing it until the Hydra Protocol ended... after that it’s felt like I’d lost a lot of energy in the process.’

That’s never happened before.

‘It’s like the caffeine crash that others kept talking about... Feeling great with sudden energy and then, bam, when it wears off feeling even worse than before...’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head groans.

This is weird, and problematic. I can move fine but I just feel...

‘Thin?’ the little pegasus offers.

Yeah...

‘Uhg’ is the only reply he gets as the little pegasus doesn’t even seem to have the energy to carry on the conversation at the moment.

Swift stares at him as her jaw drops. After a few moments of bewilderment, and his continued silence, she asks, “What? I’d figure you’d be great at it!”

Gearing looks at her sideways as he lets out a long sigh. He shakes his head slowly and then replies, “That’s part of the problem… Either I was so over-the-top good in a category that it’d cause people to start asking too many questions… Or I sucked at it so bad that I wasn’t even competitive. There really was no in-between…” He shrugs as he goes back to looking over the arena. “In fact, I was actually banned from all forms of competition as a matter of course…” He finishes by muttering quietly, “And official policy…”

Swift’s eyes widen to their max as she asks, “Do what?! You weren’t allowed to play any games?!”

“Nope,” Gearing replies matter-of-factly. “Nothing competitive in the least.”

‘Yeah… not even card games,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in as he grins wryly and lays out on his back on a mind cloud with his forelegs behind his head as he continues grumbling. ‘But we’ll leave that little tidbit, and the reason why, out of the conversation for now…’

Swift frowns as she follows his gaze to the egg-shaped building and comments, “That just doesn’t seem fair…”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “It’s okay… I hated sports anyway… I’d rather be reading or something else…”

They pause their conversation as they get closer to the old sports complex and take in the view. Around the entire thing is a tall thick metal fence. It originally helped with crowd control, but now double dips and serves as a rather useful line of defense. The vertical bars are close enough together that most things wouldn’t be able to get between them. Nothing larger than a typical house cat anyway. The main entrance on this side sits up a small private drive from the road, and the gate is wide enough for the comfortable traffic of three lanes of wagons. But, at this bottleneck, the current occupants have set up a checkpoint where those coming and going have to pass through to get through.

And, strangely to Gearing at least given the Reaper’s reputation, the flow of traffic is relatively mundane and calm. There’s a few rambunctious conversations going on between those coming and going, but it feels almost civilized to Gearing. And not the powder keg just waiting for a spark, any spark, to blow that he’d expected thus far. A fact that only serves to confuse him even more as he sees several ponies walking out of the complex wearing a style of attire that he’s gotten used to killing on sight: spiky intimidation. Along with unmistakable hide armor. Ponyhide. Just to be sure, Gearing quickly kicks on his EFS, and looks at the pair out of the corner of his eye. But, no, their marker shows them as non hostile. After confirming that they don’t seem to be planning on ambushing him, he drops the enchantment and his focus returns to the pair.

Just in time to catch eye contact with the mare as she looks over at him sideways.

The smile on her muzzle grows slightly as the two look at each other. It’s almost flirtatious with the way her grin is actually inviting him. But, regardless of what most others might think, the invitation isn’t something most of equinity would willingly partake in. Her slow steady walk. The calculated cadence of her hooves on the ground. It’s an unmistakable mark of confidence that Gearing can’t ignore. The knowledge, and willingness, to unleash a level of destruction most couldn’t even fathom, let alone survive. She can more than hold her own in a fight. She knows it. Gearing knows it. And, more importantly in the moment, she knows that Gearing knows. But, even so, the invitation stands.

A sweet alluring invitation to death itself is written across her lips. All you have to do is try her, and she’ll be happy to oblige. And Gearing can’t help thinking that unlike all the others wearing similar attire that he’s dealt with these last few weeks, this pair’s attire isn’t just for show. By Gearing’s appraisal, if these two were action figures they would be the original official merchandise, whereas the rest are simply cheap imitation knock-offs manufactured by the Flim Flam brothers.

But, after the two continue past each other, yet each keeping tabs on the other the whole time, the tension fades as they both have their own business to attend to at the moment. And neither of them is interested in picking an unnecessary fight here. So they continue on their way on their respective paths and leave it at that.

As Swift and Gearing are approaching the checkpoint, a bored looking buck sitting next to the table comments to Gearing, “You know, eyeballing a Reaper like that’s likely to get your ass kicked, if not killed.”

Swift smirks as she says, “Awww, nah, I think she was just flirting with him.”

“Then you’re flirting with death,” the buck quickly quips.

Gearing stares at the buck blankly and replies, “She knew what I was doing.”

“That’s even worse,” the buck says with a frown.

“What was?” a mare stepping out of the shipping container turned mobile building behind him asks.

The buck turns sideways and nods towards Gearing as he says, “He was eyeballing someone he really shouldn’t have been.”

The mare looks over at Gearing, sizes him up a bit, and frowns lightly as she keeps staring at the golden colored plates all over him. And the more she sees the less she apparently likes. “What? Trying to start a fight or something?” She leans over the table and looks down the path towards the road. Her eyes go wide before she asks, “How didn’t a fight break out if he was staring at her of all ponies?!”

“I wasn’t staring at her. I was keeping an eye on her. There’s a difference. She knew I was acknowledging her skill, not trying to get under her tail… She seemed to like the fact I considered her a potential serious threat,” Gearing says with a dismissive wave of a hoof.

The buck waves it away and shakes his head. “Well, whatever, you get your ass kicked or not, it’s your business.” He taps on the table and adds, “I haven’t seen you before. Check in your ranged weapons here. You can pick them up on the way out. We’ll lock them up in the container behind me.”

Gearing narrows his eyes a bit as he asks, “Another place I gotta dump all my weapons before entering? Seriously?”

Swift grins as she looks at Gearing sideways. “Should I get some popcorn for the show?”

The mare behind the table shakes her head. “Melee weapons are fine. Just no ranged weapons. No firearms, lasers, magical weapons, or anything that isn’t used to bash, slash, or stab someone. Things get messy if ranged weapons are involved. We don’t want idiots missing their targets and fucking up the arena.”

Swift shrugs. “Makes sense.” She pulls Handy’s Proditor’s Gladius from his holster and sets it on the table as she says, “That’s it for us.” She scrunches up her muzzle and nearly spits as she says, “I hate guns…” She holds up her powerhoof as the near snarl turns into a grin. “I prefer being up close and personal… To really feel the shit get knocked out of them…”

Gearing slowly narrows his eyes for a moment as he stares at the mare managing the weapons. She stares right back at him, deadpan in the face, and says flatly, “Don’t try and mean mug me. You’re not going to scare me. I’m around Reapers all day every day, so you’re going to have to step it up a notch if you’re going to even try fazing me.” She points at the table. “Hand’em over, or get lost and don’t bother coming back. Oooooor… you could try and force the issue, but I wouldn’t recommend it since, you know, you’re basically surrounded by Reapers…”

Swift smirks as she looks at the mare and says, “They’re even closer than you think.” But the comment doesn’t draw so much as a blink from the mare.

Gearing slides his rifle off of his shoulder and sets it upright on the table as he asks, “You want this too? Because until I get it fixed it’s not useful as anything more than a club.”

“How’d that barrel get so bent?!” asks the buck as his eyes jump wide open.

“Shipping container fell on me with the mistaken impression that that would do anything more than piss me off…”

“Riiiiight,” the mare comments with a tone clearly indicating they don’t believe a single word of it. “Nah, go ahead and keep it. If you’re dumb enough to try and use that wreck as a gun, you deserve the ass beating you’ll get for it. Assuming it doesn’t blow up in your face.” She points at the extra worn saddle bags over Gearing’s back where she can clearly see something poking out. “What about that stuff?”

Swift looks at it and shrugs as she comments, “It’s some crap I got off a few assholes that ambushed a caravan. Figured I’d trade it inside for some stuff we need.”

The mare looks over at Swift and frowns. “If you want to go sell your crap, go to Megamart. Finders love doing that kinda shit. You’ll waste a lot of time just trying to find someone in here that wants to buy your crap. And if you’re looking to buy something, and they don’t already know you, they’ll want caps, not junk.”

Gearing looks over at Swift and raises an eyebrow. Swift rolls her eyes and waves it away with a forehoof limply as she answers his unspoken question, “Just give’em the whole damn bag then. I’ll just trade it off once we’re back at Megamart.”

Gearing nods, takes off the saddle bag full of still bloody gear, and drops it on the table with a loud deep toned thunk. As the mare is grabbing the surrendered bag, Gearing pulls out an old revolver from where he had it kept in place between his saddle bag and his body. He notices the raised eyebrow from Swift and comments, “What? You weren’t using it.” She snickers and rolls her eyes as he puts it on the table. When the mare reaches for it, he quickly puts his hoof back on top of it, drawing her attention. The two lock eyes for a moment before Gearing says coldly, “Me having weapons gives me options. It’s a kindness. But I’ve had one hell of a bad day, and the way I’m feeling right now if anyone makes me feel like I need a gun they’re gonna wish I had one on me so at least then it’d be quick.”

The mare glares at him in the eye, not backing down an inch, but as she stares at the way his eyes change a smile breaks across her muzzle. A smile with actual glee beaming from it. “Damn, buck, that’s more like it! Gave me a shiver and a tingle. You keep that attitude up and eventually you might make it in yourself!”

Swift scrunches up her muzzle before she asks, “You gonna give them the old No Shoes treatment?”

“No Shoes?” the mare asks as she looks over at Swift.

Gearing shakes his head. “No Shoes got off easy by comparison.”

The buck sitting next to the table pauses writing up a receipt as he asks, “You know No Shoes?”

“Unfortunately,” Gearing grumbles.

The mare asks, “He a Reaper yet? Last I heard he was close.”

“Oh, he got in. Big Daddy was there when he fought his last fight out at the Freight Cars Junction,” Gearing replies.

“Good. Asshole owes me some caps so he needs to hurry back,” the mare comments.

The buck filling out the receipt looks between them as he wonders aloud, “Big Daddy’s already back… Why didn’t No Shoes come with him? If it was me I’d be in a rush to get the real party started.”

The mare looks at him, and then looks over at Gearing as she raises an eyebrow as the question makes her wonder some things as well. Gearing simply pulls his hoof off the pistol, finally letting her take it, as he looks her in the eye and says flatly, “Ask Big Daddy about it if you want… but don’t lose any sleep waiting up for No Shoes to get here…”

“Uh…. Huh…” the mare comments as the phrasing starts making her question quite a few things.

“Well as long as I don’t gotta clean up the mess, whatever…” Swift turns and starts facing in towards the main doors as she asks, “So are we done here, or do you two wanna flirt some more?”

Gearing looks at the mare and raises an eyebrow as he waits for her to say something else. But she doesn’t. As they are looking at each other the buck to the side finishes his write up and waves the paper over in between the two of them. “Hey, here’s your check in paper. Don’t lose it if you want your shit back.” As Gearing is taking it the buck adds, “There’s a couple other Halfhearts inside already. They checked in a while ago before you got here.”

Gearing starts to stow the paper as he says, “Thanks. Hopefully they got some spare parts I can get off them.” He nods towards the entrance before he asks, “We good to go?” The buck nods and waves him off before going back to sitting there and looking bored.

As Swift and Gearing start trotting off, the checkpoint mare asks, “What’s the Halfhearts have to do with anything?”

The buck looks at her sideways and asks, “Didn’t notice the charm on that busted up rifle of his?” She looks over at Gearing’s retreating form and shrugs. The buck chuckles as he comments, “It’s hard to intimidate someone who’s basically given up on life.”

The mare rolls her eyes as she scoops up the items and takes them into the improvised armory. “Whatever… That bullshit shiny armor of his says otherwise… probably a real whiney crypony.”

The buck points down at the ground before he says, “Pieces of bloody bone fell out of the gaps in his leg armor while he was standing here. I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you…”

* * *

After they get through the outer doors, there’s a long tunnel that leads to the field. Gearing slows down as images of the past start playing before his very eyes. In some cases they entirely replace his vision. This isn’t the exact same as what he remembers, but it’s very similar to another sports complex. And he can’t help but feeling a bit uneasy as he remembers the last time we walked through one of these tunnels, and how he got jumped by a group of disgruntled tryouts. They were angry at him and, apparently, thought he was a threat to their future careers. He can’t help but wonder how they felt, for the rest of their lives, knowing that they themselves had killed any chance of ever achieving their goals.

Let alone how they’d feel knowing their ambush helped get him the job that he ended up getting.

He finds the sudden nostalgia confusing as it was so randomly triggered. Which helps to make the feeling fade. To Gearing, his mind space stops hogging up his focus as he actually takes in the tunnel’s sights. While it’s definitely older, and has similar construction, it’s definitely a lot cleaner than they’d left that tunnel after their fight during the Shadowbolt tryouts. Although, there are a lot of posters and adverts for hoofball teams that have a considerable amount of graffiti on them. So the lack of trash and debris is a notable sign of effort on their part, instead of complete vacancy.

And then they emerge out into the bright light of the stadium's interior. Causing Gearing to zip his head up at a familiar sight. But, it doesn’t take him long, disappointingly so, to figure out that it’s an enchanted ceiling, and not the clear open skies that he’s been used to for the majority of his life. But, still, it’s rather nice to see, even if it is artificial in nature. The clear sunlight is even enough to make the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head stir with a slight smile, despite how bad they’re both feeling.

Gearing and Swift look around as they take in the interior of the Hoofington Arena and slowly advance. There are far more ponies here than they’d expected. Not exactly to standing room only, not by a long shot, but a considerable number of individuals nonetheless. There is obviously far less than the stadium could hold, since its original seating capacity was more accurately measured in ‘tens of thousands’, but more creatures in a single spot than most locations in the current age for sure. All over there are tents, shacks, and camping areas set up. A bona fide shanty town, at least by prewar standards, inside of one of Hoofington’s biggest attractions. The exceptions to that are the field, which looks nearly identical to how it was during the war, and the box seating areas where VIPs could enjoy the entertainment without having to deal with the rest of equinity. And, unlike those two, the regular stadium seating areas have been transformed entirely. The original seats had been ripped out, and in their place a number of platforms and other structures had been constructed. And it doesn’t take the pair long before they start recognizing a couple of the symbols of the different groups. And Gearing notices and recognizes a couple of the symbols, quickly, as being related to a few of the gangs around the Hoofington region.

Swift leans sideways before she asks and while Gearing is still standing there looking around, “So? What ya think of the place now that you’re actually here?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, ‘Underwhelming… I still don’t get the point of it all. Didn’t back then. Certainly don’t now…” He waves around with a hoof as he says, “At least they’re using the space effectively… Would be a shame if they didn’t take advantage of the fact that they could use it to keep a roof over so many heads... And if they’re smart they’re using the field as an added food source too…”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head looks around and asks softly, ‘Is it just me, or is that itching entirely gone? I mean, I’ve been feeling it here and there. And now that I know what to look out for it’s really noticeable… but… in here… there’s notta…’

Gearing lets out a sigh as he mentally adds, No enervation in here would mean it’d be a good place to rest up and recoup.

Gearing starts walking slowly and looking around as he keeps taking in the scenery: the various gangs and groups hanging out and talking, a variety of merchants that’d stopped by to trade with them, ponies all over sparing, with and without weapons. All of them seem to be in pretty high spirits. Especially since the gangs, as far as he was aware, were so territorial that in normal situations they’d be fighting each other to the death in the streets at times. So to see them camped across from each other in a practically civil manner is strange to say the least.

As they continue walking they listen carefully to those around them as they try to get a feel for the area. It’s not lost on either of them exactly where they are, and its potential dangers. On some level they’re hoping they haven’t just trotted into a trap. So they’re staying extra vigilant as they look for any signs of an incoming ambush. But everywhere they look all they really see is groups or individuals more concerned with their own affairs than others.

But then a pair set to pass in front of them draws their attention.

A purple mare with her mane entirely cut off walks next to a brown earth pony as they continue talking about some kind of food between themselves. But it’s mostly garbled and lost in the ambient noise except when she violently shakes her head and yells, “Fuck no I ain’t trying that purple shit, looks unnatural.”

And the brown buck simply laughs as he adds, “Yeah, that lumpy shit looks like road apples… I ain’t touching it either… I don’t care what he says. The name alone sounds disgusting…”

The last thing either Swift or Gearing hear from them, despite tilting their ears to follow the conversation and blatantly eavesdropping, is the mare spitting off to the side and laughing, “Yeah, it’s probably full of taint!”

Not far away there’s a buck walking around with a neck strap mounted vendor tray, like the ones that used to get used during the old hoofball games for selling snacks and souvenirs in the stands. But instead of popcorn or hats, the buck has a pile of lumpy purple almost hoof-sized orbs in it. He tries going one way and then another, but pretty much everyone he gets near turns their nose in disgust and quickly avoids him when they see the weirdness he’s carrying. Other times he’s the one avoiding them as the stares he receives promise death if he so much as speaks to them.

He sees Gearing and Swift eyeballing him and, sensing an opportunity, quickly trots over towards them with a massive grin on his face as he says, “You there! Would you like to try a new delicious delicacy?! Of course you would! It’s got all the body needs, is super tasty, and, what’s more, it’s got a ridiculously long shelf life so feel free to stock up on lots of it!”

Gearing smirks and then raises the side of his lip in a bit of confusion edging on disgust as he asks, “Just what is that? It’s about the size of an apple but… that’s not an apple…”

Swift snuffs at the tray, and the response her nose gives her isn’t anywhere helpful as she keeps staring at them.

“Oh no, sir, it’s not an apple at all! This is my proprietary one-of-a-kind delicious fruit that I grow on my own farm!” the buck replies quickly with a nearly excited voice.

“But what the hell is it?” Swift asks as she can’t stop staring at them. “Is it even edible?”

“It’s a proprietary cross -only available by yours truly- that is especially hardy against the harshest of weather conditions and they even thrive in radiated areas!” the bucks replies with a quick hop as he looks back and forth between them. “And of course they are edible! In fact, I’ve been eating them pretty much exclusively since I discovered the wondrous treat!” He rears up and starts swaying as he grins. “And look at me! I’m as healthy as can be! All thanks to these wonderful purple marvels!”

Gearing looks the fruit over before looking up at the buck. “But exactly what is it a cross of?! It looks almost like a blackberry… except it has the tough thick skin of something like an orange… except it’s all warped and bulbous like a blueberry… while being the size of a big apple…”

The buck gives a sheepish smile before slowly lowering himself. “I… don’t know actually…” He lets out a sigh before he leans towards them and starts whispering. “Okay, look, I know it looks like something a hellhound shat out, but it’s really good!” He holds one up with a hoof as he says, “I found a patch growing and I was so hungry I just ate it anyway. And it’s really good! Hell, I took over the abandoned farm house near by… For all I know it’s a cross of all of the fruits that got warped together when the bombs fell or whatever. But, it really is good!” He looks around as he frowns. “But no one wants to give it a chance because of the way it looks and its weak smell…”

Swift recoils as she asks, “You’re selling radiated fruits?”

The buck waves his forehooves quickly as she shakes his head. “No! No no no! They aren’t! Or at least no more than other food grown in contaminated soil. But, it’s actually less than a lot of that! I’m serious!” He waves at her foreleg. “You got a PipBuck… Just eat one and you’ll be able to check your own rad level for yourself!” He gives her a wink as he says, “Just one taste and I’m sure you’ll be hooked!”

Gearing frowns as he asks, “Drugs?”

The buck rolls his eyes and then sighs as he says, “It’s just a sales pitch… I watched some vids from those Flim Flam Brothers on marketing tactics…” He holds up the fruit as he says, “But, honest, this stuff tastes great and once word gets out about how good it is I’m going to make a fortune!”

Swift looks over at Gearing and then at the buck before she asks, “And… just where’s this farm of yours at?”

The buck actually takes a step back and shields his tray of fruits from her as he lays his ears back and scowls. “Oh no! I’m not giving up the location! Why, so others can go and steal my crop? Or, worse, dig up the plants and go make their own farm and be competition? I don’t think so!”

Gearing chuckles as he looks at Swift, “He’s certainly territorial enough about it that he might be serious.”

The buck rolls his eyes as he says, “Of course I’m serious…”

Swift looks at him for a few moments, then at his fruits, before looking over at Gearing. “What ya think?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks at them. “Well, I think I could double check to make sure they’re safe once I get back to the lab if nothing else…” He looks up at the buck and gives a sheepish smile as he says, “I’m sorry, but I’ve been all over the world and I’ve never seen anything like that so I’m a bit paranoid about feeding it to kids.”

The buck perks up as he asks, “Ya got kids?”

Swift frowns as she says flatly, “Yeah…. Why?”

Gearing nods as he stares him in the eye. “Quite a few, and I’m not going to expose them to something until I’m sure exactly what it is and that it’s safe.”

The buck grabs a bag from his saddle bag at his side and starts dropping one fruit in after another. “That’s great! Here!” He quickly fills the bag half way and offers the bag to Gearing.

Gearing looks at it as he raises his eyebrow. “What? I didn’t say I was going to buy any, and you didn’t say how much you wanted.”

The buck grins wider as he says, “I know… but once your kids get a taste you’ll be back for more, and you’ll probably tell everyone about it…” He bobs his head before he leans in and gives him an oversized grin. “I’m so absolutely positive that your family will adore it, I’ll give you this for free just to try it out!”

“No strings attached?” Gearing asks as he narrows his eyes without moving a millimeter.

“Positively no strings attached at all!” the bucks says with a massive grin and a nod of his head. Then the grin turns sheepish before he says, “Well… actually…”

Swift rolls her eyes before she waves a hoof dismissively. “I fucking knew it… Gearing, don’t fall for this shit, this is more fishy than the river…”

The buck shakes his head quickly then waves the bag at Gearing. “Oh, no! I was going to say the string, that’s not really a string, honestly, it’s more like a… common courtesy or even a thank you… but definitely not a string-”

“Spit it out already,” Gearing says flatly.

“Please give it an honest try. Don’t just throw it out and waste it. I’d rather eat it myself than that. And if you like it, tell others about it because, honestly…” He looks around and sighs as he says, “No one around here’s willing to even give it a shot. They’re too paranoid that I’m trying to pull a fast one on them or something and that it’s something else…”

“But if you don’t get any money, how is this worth it?” Swift asks as she raises an eyebrow.

The buck laughs before he rattles the vendor tray at her. “Do you see how much of this shit I have?! I’m not going hungry anytime soon. And there’s not much else to worry about beyond that… and this is only a small fraction of how much I have.” He waves a hoof as he chuckles. “The plants are really productive. It’s nothing for me to have to harvest every day just to keep up with it.” He waves the bag towards Gearing. “But if you happen to try it, and like it, and spread the word… that just might be the hoof in the door that I need so I can start raking in the caps and finally start eating something else besides this mutated fruit for a change…”

Swift smirks as she narrows her eyes. “I thought you said it was nutritious and delicious and has everything a body needs?”

The buck narrows his eyes right back at her as he grumps. “It does, but after you’ve been living off of it, and nothing but it, for a few months it starts getting old… and I’ve been sucking it down for a few years.”

“Alright,” Gearing relents with a laugh. “I’ll take it and give it a try.” After the buck eagerly shoves the bag into Gearing’s awaiting grasp, Gearing asks, “How do I find you afterwards?”

The buck grins and waves a hoof around as he says, ‘Oh, I travel around a lot… you’ll find me out and about.”

“Well, I do too, so that’s a problem. Because two moving bodies are less likely to run into each other,” Gearing replies flatly.

The buck seems to visibly deflate before he says softly, “Shit… hadn’t thought of that…”

Gearing stows the bag of fruit in his bag as he asks, “Well, since you don’t want to let me know where your farm is-”

“Damn right,” the buck quickly snaps.

“How about we use the Finders as an intermediary?” Gearing asks before looking up at the buck with a smile.

The buck’s eyes go wide as the thought strikes his fancy. “The Finders?!”

Gearing nods as he says, “Sure, I’ll put in an order with the Finders if that’s the case. And they can put up a bulletin or whatever. Or, if you trust Bottlecap, you could have her folks bring it straight to you.”

The buck rubs his chin as he thinks about it. “It’s about a thousand caps to pay for entry into the Finders. And if the fruit sales start taking off I could get that real quick… hmmm it’s not a bad idea, I’ll think about it.”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “You do that… But, thanks! I hope this is as good as your saying!”

The buck grins at him as he holds up another one. “Well, you could always try one now and find out!”

“I could… but that wouldn’t actually tell either of us what we’d really want to know and it would be particularly bad for you,” Gearing says with a shake of his head before he lets out a long disgruntled sigh.

The buck shakes his head quickly before raising an eyebrow and asking with clear confusion and disbelief in his voice, “I really don’t see how; I’m not trying to scam anypony.” Gearing beckons him over with a pinion then leans over and starts whispering in his ear when he’s close enough. The buck’s eyes zip around as he partially closes them. “Uh huh… yeah… Oh. Oh!” The buck’s eyes suddenly go wide as he starts staring straight ahead. “Oh that sucks, I’m sorr- … What?” His eyes start slowly traveling around, going from pony to pony, from grizzled buck to fanatical combat loving mare and he swallows slowly. “No… no, no, no… you gotta point… Yeah… yup…”

Gearing pulls back and gives him a wide smile before he says, “So I’ll just get back with you later after I get a chance to properly test them and get the rest of the family’s opinion.”

The buck forces a wide smile on his face that looks especially nervous before he dips his head and gives Gearing a tip of his sports cap. “I look forward to it! Thanks for your patronage! Enjoy!” Then he turns and starts walking away as he slowly starts looking around for anyone else that might be willing to give it a shot, but others pointedly avoid eye contact with him and still others just give a sneer of contempt that makes him not even want to try.

Swift and Gearing continue walking on and after getting out of ear shot she asks, “What’d you tell him that made him look like he was about to piss himself?”

“Basically just that if I took a bite out of it, and didn’t seem to enjoy it, it would look really bad on him in front of all of the gangers and Reapers around here that he’s been trying to sell to. That they’d think he was trying to scam them. And I told him I have a complicated palate because of my implants so I’m really not the best judge because everything tastes like dirt.” Gearing looks at her sideways and smirks as he says, “Smart buck figured out the rest of how that might of went on his own…”

Swift snickers as she shakes her head. “So, you basically lied to him just to get him to go away?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks around. “Enough truth to what I told him that the important parts came across clearly.”

“Uh huh,” Swift replies with a roll of her eyes. She looks over at a group of mares passing by them on the opposite side of Gearing and asks, “Hey, which way to the clinic?”

The group of mares stop and look at her as they pause their bantering and conversation. It’s easy to tell that they are all members of the same group. All of them are wearing white collars. And they all have some sort of grease-like paint dying their manes that gives it the appearance of a rainbow. Although Gearing’s less than impressed by the cheap imitation. The empty holsters they have draw only a moment of his focus, while the power shoes two of them are wearing actually cause him to stare.

The one closest to Swift raises an eyebrow as she asks, “What’d you say?”

“Clinic. Where… Not a difficult question,” Swift says with her eyes narrowed.

The next mare in line leans around the first and looks at Swift as she says, “Ya ain’t gotta be all rude about it.”

The first mare asks, “Why? You look fine.”

Swift points backwards where Handy limply lies across her back as she stares at them like they’re idiots. “Well he’s not.”

The closest mare gives a fraction of a second disregarding glance at Handy before saying flatly, “If it were me, I’d just have left him to die…” And the snickers and giggles from the other colorful fillies just make her muzzle twist into a self amused smile.

“Ah’d be fahn wid dat,” Handy comments with a deep toned groan while not even moving. “Put meh outta mah mis-ree…”

The pitiful sounding request causes the mares to laugh that much harder.

Swift looks back at him and scowls as she says, “Fat chance of that happening!”

The closest mare to Swift has her eyes light up as she says with a silky tone, “OOOoohhh So that’s how it is, huh? … Well… I can’t say anything about your tastes… Bucks,” she shakes her head and sticks her tongue out in disgust, “Blech!” She turns and happily points off to the direction where Swift needs to go. “She’s right over there. Look for the mare with all of the medical mark ponyhide, you can’t miss her!” Then she leans sideways, towards Swift, as she says, “And, hey… if you ever change your mind on that… dump the trash somewhere… and come look us up. We’re always happy to have another cute filly to come join us.”

Swift looks over at her and narrows her eyes as she says, “Fat chance of that happening too…”

The mare pulls back a bit but the smile on her muzzle gets just a bit wider before she glances at her friends sideways and giggles, “Oooooh do you see that? She’s got some spunk!”

Swift rolls her eyes and starts walking away as she groans, “I don’t have time for this shit.” She glances over at Gearing and adds, “Come on, Gearing, let's get to the clinic so we can get Handy taken care of.”

The closest filly uses a forehoof and taps on the currently empty holster on her other foreleg where a laser pistol is normally stored and grins. “We could take care of that buck in a flash if you want? Just need to make a quick trip to the front gate and get my laser pistol.”

Swift comes to a dead stop and her muzzle curls into a snarl as she slowly starts turning her head around to look at the brazen mare. “What… did you just say?”

Gearing takes a few quick steps, gets in between them, breaking their line of sight with each other, as he stares right at the callous filly with the apparent laser pistol fetish. “I think it’d be best if you continued on your way before something bad happens here.”

The filly’s eyes flash wide in an instant rage before she asks with a snarl of her own, “Who the fuck do you think you are threatening me, you bastard buck!?” Her friends swing around to get into position to help as all of them start easing towards their weapons. One of which activates her power shoes as they start to spark lightly.

Gearing, not deterred in the least, stares her straight in the eyes and says with a flat even tone, “It’s not wise to threaten Iron Hoof’s family… Those that do tend to get real dead real quick… And that happens to be her husband.”

The mare tilts her head in contempt as she starts looking down her nose at him. “Like I’m scared of a little shit like you with the preppy paint job on his armor.”

“Iron Hoof? Why’s that name sound familiar?” one of the fillies to the right of the group asks as she looks at the others.

A couple in the center have noticeably increased the visible whiteness of their eyes and one of them says softly, “That’s one of the new Reapers.”

Another nods slowly as she says, “That’s the one that beat Goldfish…”

The mare in the lead turns to look at them and nods her muzzle towards Gearing as she says, “That’s not Iron Hoof. Iron Hoof’s a proper mare! Not some bastard buck!”

Gearing points back with a wing while still maintaining hard eye contact with his challenger. “That’s Iron Hoof, moron, not me, and if you even joke about killing her husband one more time she’s likely to shove your head through your own ass, and she really won’t care where we are when she does it.”

“Hey, Gearing,” Swift calls over, causing him to slowly turn his head to look back at her. Her snarl turns malicious as her eyes get a fanatical gleam to them usually seen on the eyes of jacked up raiders. “How’d that challenge shit they used on you work? Reapers just get to say they want something and they gotta cough it up or fight, right?” She starts grinding her forehooves into the ground as she snickers. “And you said you needed some magical weapon cartridges, right?” She starts laughing as she says, “I’ll wholesale kick her ass just for one!”

One of the other fillies balks as she asks, “Are you really going to challenge her over a fucking single piece of ammo?!”

Gearing looks at them and grins as he says, “No… but once she gets you in the ring whatever she does to you is nice and legal and…” He leans towards them and says quieter, “I suggest you leave now… because unless I tell her ‘no’ she’s going to make a point of it, and then you’re going to be in traction for the foreseeable future.” Gearing lays his ears back as he frowns and says quieter, “I’m trying to save your fucking life here, so would you kindly just go?! Please and thank you?!”

“Well, Gearing?” Swift asks as she starts rocking side to side with her forehooves and has the same glee filled grin on her muzzle.

The other fillies quickly start turning and walking away, while one wraps a foreleg around the first one and turns with her as she nervously giggles, “Oh, see, you’re such a kidder! You really need to work on your jokes though. Come on; let’s go get some Sugar Apple Bombs. You’re always grumpy when you haven’t eaten and your jokes are just sooo bad that no one can tell you’re joking!”

They start walking away but come to an absolute stop when Swift yells out.

“I didn’t say you could leave!”

Their eyes slowly grow wider as they both start looking over their shoulder at Swift.

“Well, Gearing?” Swift asks as she glares at the one. “How bad do you want some of that ammo?”

Gearing looks back and forth before he stares them in the eye for a few seconds. He motions them on with a forehoof and replies evenly. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll pick some up later. I don’t need any at the moment.”

His comment earns startled looks from the fillies.

“You sure?” Swift asks as she starts easing up.

Gearing stares them in the eye for a second, then his eyes darts down to watch their hooves as they slowly shift them ever so much to carry them away. Gearing looks up into their eyes then gives them a warm smile before he tilts his head and scratches the back of his mane with a forehoof. “Yeah, I’m sure, Swift. Thanks anyways.”

Swift spits off to the side in annoyed resignation. “Tch… fine… Spoil sport…” Then she turns and continues walking away. “Coming, Gearing?”

Gearing waves at her with a wing without even looking. “I’ll catch up.”

“Fine… don’t get into any trouble… without inviting me first…” Swift replies with a chuckle before trotting off to find the promised medical pony.

After a few moments, with Gearing’s ears twitching and carefully listening to his surroundings, he lets out a sigh then smiles as he says, “Close call, huh?”

The one mare that’d instigated the entire thing lowers her head and groans, “I need a fucking drink.”

The mare next to her clops her on the back of the head as she hisses at her, “What you need to do is work on your damn flirting technique! Your libido almost got your ass kicked. Again!” She pulls away from her and raises her lip in disgust as she says, “You’re almost as bad as some of these bastard bucks walking around here…”

The offending filly hunkers down and holds her head with both forehooves as she flushes and yells, “I suck at flirting, alright! What am I supposed to say to someone so cute? I mean she’d give Shy a run for her money in the sweet flank department!”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “How about more of something like ‘Hi, what’s your name? I think you’re cute, would you like to get a drink together?’ and less ‘Want me to kill your husband for you?’ I mean I’m no expert but that ‘Alpha Mare’ shit just don’t cut it.”

She moves a hoof out of the way and glances at him before she mutters, “Oh what the hell would you know…” and then gets helped up and turned around by one of her group.

Gearing shrugs and starts turning around as he says, “Not much, admittedly. Mares confuse the ever living fuck out of me. Always have…”

The mare directing her friend away asks Gearing, “Hey, buck…” When Gearing looks back at her she asks, “Would she really have killed her over a single cartridge?”

Gearing shakes his head and replies flatly, “No… She would have used the cartridge as an excuse to do it… She’s very protective of her family.”

The other mare flushes even more before she starts walking away and groaning, “God that’s even hotter…”

Her friend looks at her with a narrowed eyed scowl. “You’re fucking clinical, you know that?”

Gearing rolls his eyes and continues on as he mutters, “Mares… I’ll never understand them…” and leaves the colorful fillies to banter and bicker among themselves. A short stroll later and Gearing’s ears shift from rotating slowly to pick up various conversations, to jumping in the same direction as he hears, and then pinpoints, a familiar voice.

A collection of ponies sit around a cooking pot. Most of them are still wearing one stage of the Hoofington Fire department uniform or another, a few are just sitting there in naught but their hide. But of all of the ones that can be seen, all of them have one type of burn or another on their body. Some of them look like they’ve been crisped pretty good. Others simply have scares that make their hide look like melted wax where hair no longer grows.

But, regardless of what anyone may think someone in that position might do, they are cracking jokes, talking merrily, and just seem to be having an overall good time simply enjoying life. Especially with their boisterous conversations.

“You’re pulling my leg!” a buck on the far side of the pot says with a laugh

“No, really!” the familiar voice replies.

“And just how high were you when this went down?!” another buck asks with a smirk

“Stone cold fucking sober. And you would be too if you saw what I did! It was nutsy!” the same familiar voice says quickly.

“Uh huh… So he threw a wagon and killed one of these super mares, and then dropped a statue on another one? Like… just picked it the fuck up, and dropped them? Just like that?” another buck off to the side who’s laying out and propping his chin up with his hoof asks as he grins at the brown buck in the middle of his story.

“Just like that! Splat!” the russet brown buck says as he slams his forehoof onto the ground before he starts taking a drink from a mug.

“Hey, Soots,” Gearing calls over as he’s passing by and only a yard or two behind the buck’s back.

Soots spits his muzzle full of beer out and leans over coughing and hacking as he completely drops the mug onto the ground and spills what’s left of it.

The buck that’d been laying down frowns as he wipes some of the spittle off the side of his face with a flame mangled foreleg and groans, “Party foul, dude…”

Soots looks up at the buck directly across the cooking pot from him and shakes a bit as he says, “That fucking voice… ah Celestia fuck me!” He slowly turns his head and gives a sheepish smile as he sees that, in fact, his ears were entirely correct with placing the voice. “H- hey boss… you’re… you’re looking good… How’s things? I uh… I hadn’t seen you here before… I… I see you uh… made … it… heh.”

The one across from him points behind Soots and asks, “Wait, you’re talking about him?!”

Soots whips his head around and puts his hoof to his lips as he shushes him. “SHHH shshshshshs! Shush! I like living!”

One of the bucks off to the left, still in his full Hoofington Fire Department uniform looks at Gearing for a few long seconds before saying flatly, “Doesn’t look like much… And I’ve never seen him around… You sure he’s a Reaper? Like a real Reaper and not just some wannabe claiming it?”

Soots shrugs as he says, “Well I haven’t exactly gone up to Big Daddy and asked, but if you saw what I saw you wouldn’t even question it.”

Gearing smirks as he rolls his eyes. “Hey, Soots, you get a chance to drop that jacket off at Patches yet?”

Soots’ eyes go wide, then he starts looking around him before he grabs a Hoofington Fire Department jacket that’s laying on the ground next to him and whips it up in the air as he says, “Not yet, here ya go!”

Gearing looks at it and asks, “That’s yours aint it?”

Soots nods quickly before he says, “Yeah, but I made it to my friends. It’s no worry, I’ll get another soon enough.”

Gearing waves it away as he says, “I’m in no rush. I was just wondering. I’ve been busy the last couple days and decided since I saw you I’d ask.” He waves it away again as he says, “Keep it, you’re probably gonna need it.”

“You see Big Daddy yet?” the buck on the left asks as he keeps staring at Gearing.

Gearing looks over at him and shakes his head. “Not in a while, no.”

The buck on the ground grins as he waves a hoof off towards where the box seats are. “Oh, well in that case… Big Daddy’s probably over at his place. You know where that is, right? I’m sure he’d like to see one of his Reapers if it’s been that long.”

Gearing shrugs as he starts looking around. “I’m sure I’ll run into him eventually before I leave.”

Several of the bucks share glances before they almost communally roll their eyes.

The one in the suit on the left comments flatly, “Oh, I’m sure of that.”

Gearing turns and starts walking away as he says, “I need to find out who’s selling what around here…”

While Gearing’s leaving, the buck in the fire department suit walks over, grabs Soots with a foreleg, and starts pushing him off to the side before the pair walk off in a different direction together.

As Gearing is meandering around he can’t help but notice a few of the oversized cages where the local bouts are fought. He slows down as he starts looking them over and can’t help but draw parallels with the ones that were at the Freight Cars’ Junction. And it doesn’t take much of a mental jog for him to realize that the mimicry was done intentionally. He starts wondering if that’s why the bouts there are also condoned as being official. Considering they took so much care and time to duplicate the same kind of things that are available here. Even more so in some cases as he doesn’t see any sign of having barrels set up to dump toxic materials on the occupants.

But, considering that kind of fight was called a ‘Fillydephila match’ it makes sense to him that the match had more to do with another area. Presumably somewhere in Fillydephila.

As he’s admiring the domed cage, a pair of bucks walk up from the side and one comments, “I see you are still carrying the rifle.”

Gearing turns his head and his eyes dart between the two real quick before he settles on the ocher buck. “Oh, hey, Dolor, fancy seeing you here.”

“Surprising seeing you here too,” Dolor says with an emotionless expression across his face. “After not seeing you for a while I’d half expected you to not show up.”

Gearing chuckles as he waves a hoof around. “I’ve been busy. I hope you haven’t been hanging around here waiting on me?”

“The only thing I’m waiting for is an end,” Dolor says with an annoyed sigh.

Gearing rolls his eyes before he waves a hoof at him. “Yeah, well, that’s gonna take a while, for both of us.”

“Some sooner than later,” the buck next to Dolor says flatly.

“Ain't that the unfortunate truth?” Gearing says with a sigh as he takes the rifle off and holds it up. “Sorry about what happened to the rifle. I got the shit kicked out of me and had to jump like three stories to avoid getting caught in a magical explosion. And then a shipping container fell on me. Edge hit the rifle pretty hard on the way down and it bent the barrel.”

The buck to Dolor’s side raises an eyebrow as he asks, “You avoided oblivion?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks the rifle over and says flatly. “I have to. Just giving up, letting it happen, is just as bad as doing it intentionally. Because I have too much work to do before the end and if I don’t give it my all, the whole way, it won’t count.”

Dolor looks at his companion and raises an eyebrow as they lock eyes and seem to share some unspoken communication between each other.

As they are still silently going back and forth Gearing holds up the rifle as he says, “Thanks for the rifle, too. It seemed to work. No more of your friends tried to shoot at us… so there’s that.”

Dolor nods before he waves at the rifle with a forehoof. “That was the plan. No reason for unfortunate accidents to cause bigger problems for others.”

“How long you been here?” the other buck asks as he looks Gearing over. “First time I’ve seen you, ever.”

Gearing shakes his head and slings the rifle back over himself. “I just got here. Took a few detours along the way looking for supplies to take back home. It’s been one long mess.”

The buck slowly nods as he says, “Well, good luck with that. Though, Reapers really should check in more often, make their presence known… make sure others know who they are and what they look like.”

Gearing looks at him and raises an eyebrow before he says, “What? And that pretty much goes against my entire personality.”

“There you are!” a distorted voice yells from Gearing’s side.

Though it takes Gearing a second to actually register it. But the world stops making sense in short order.

He’d just been looking at and talking to Dolor and who he assumes is one of Dolor’s gang mates. He’d just been finishing his sentence when he’d heard something, but then suddenly found himself flying. And fast at that. He’s not sure how, but suddenly he’s sailing through the air. And it’s not some form of temporary amnesia where he blacked out or something. Especially considering his wings are still lazily and comfortably folded at his sides. No. In fact, he’s still standing and in the exact same position and pose that he was when he was talking to Dolor. Except now he’s sailing through the air at a quick speed with the air whipping through his mane and tail rapidly before he even realizes what is going on. But it only takes him a second to know something’s changed and in a completely reflexive action he activates SATS.

Time slows down to a near stop as the world seems to blur around him.

‘What the hells going on?!’ the little blue pegasus in his head asks as he looks around. Despite feeling like he’s nearly out of energy, this has certainly woken him up in full panic mode.

Gearing takes in all of the information he can as quickly as he can, and starts trying to reassert himself into reality. But, yes, this is actually happening. Currently he’s several feet in the air. Almost like he’s rearing up, except his feet are straight out like he’s trying to stand on the ground itself, even though the ground is below him and under his right haunch. His legs are stiff as a board, where they’d just been holding his weight up and it gives him an added level of confusion. From where he’s at he can see several ponies around on the ground under him. Several are already looking at him. Several seem to have an amused look on their face. Others seem entirely confused if not shocked and caught off guard as much as he is to suddenly see a buck sailing through the air like someone just threw a ponnequin.

He deactivates SATS twists slightly, and activates it again as soon as he has a slightly different angle. And things start making more sense to him as he looks around.

Because there’s Big Daddy, reared up and in the follow through for what must be an enthusiastic Hoofball toss. Gearing’s seen that still image pose before: in several magazines and on the covers of newspapers where they are trying to catch the action shots. And, true to form, Big Daddy’s living up to his name as his muscles are currently betraying him and the fact that he might be older than most ponies, but his body is still a biological machine capable of mayhem.

Behind Big Daddy is a group of ponies that have gathered up in a semi circle and apparently were in on the joke even when Gearing wasn’t. And there behind him, and dead center, is Soots with a massive grin on his muzzle and a fresh beer held in his hoof as he sits down and seems to be in the middle of a giggle. He has an exceptionally pleased smile on his muzzle as he stares right at Gearing in the mid air flight. And the buck that had been at the camp with him, wearing the full HFD suit, is standing right next to him and looking up at Gearing. But with the mask on it’s impossible to read their expression. To the other side of Soots is Dolor and his companion. But as they crane their neck to follow him soaring through the air, their expression is flat and emotionless. They obviously have some interest in how this is going to go, but are detached from it. Whatever is going to happen is what’s going to happen and that’s the end of it. Like fate is something inevitable to them and there’s no reason to get worked up over it.

Okay, so Big Daddy just hopped over, and threw me like a championship shot put going for distance contest. What the hell is this about though?

The little blue pegasus in his head shrugs as he says, ‘Well, we’ve been walking around with Swift, letting everyone know that she’s a Reaper, and that they shouldn’t mess with her. Maybe he’s cranky that we didn’t stop by first to confirm her position?’

There’s also been several that have been constantly saying that I’m a Reaper too, Gearing adds. And that probably got under his skin a bit since I took off without saying anything to him.

‘Hey! We never claimed it! Other people keep saying it! Not us!’ The little blue pegasus says as he hops around. ‘We never agreed to that shit, that was all No Shoes’ idea!’

I really doubt that that matters to Big Daddy. They really seem to care about their image with all of this nonsense, Gearing retorts with a groan.

‘Well what the fuck are we going to do then?! Is he trying to kick our ass?!’

Gearing looks at Big Daddy, and sees the grin across his face. It’s not malicious. It’s actually a wide genuinely happy grin. Actually, I don’t think that’s what this is…

‘Well, what then?’

It’s more of that Alpha pony bullshit… he’s probably just trying to show me who’s the boss…

‘Well… again… what are we going to do?’

I have a few options to this, and I’m not sure what’s the best way to go, Gearing says as he starts pondering.

‘Right!’ the little blue pegasus says as he pulls out a couple scrolls and sets up a poster. ‘Option one… throw on the air brakes, spin around, and start clobbering him. Maybe if we show him we’re not scared of him, that’ll earn his respect. Whether we get our ass kicked or not. Although, I haven’t seen him fight… So if he’s in charge of a big group of lunatics like this there’s a strong possibility he’s not just simply some old buck that knows an ungodly amount of martial arts… I bet he’s got some secrets of his own and that’s why he’s lived so long.’

Yeah, like a healing talisman or some other type of implant. Which could be really problematic really quickly, Gearing adds.

‘Option two,’ the little blue pegasus says as he sets up another poster and shows the various diagrams of the actions. ‘He just threw us, so we could play along with it, but show that it was nothing more than a game to us as we land and walk right back to Dolor and carry on the conversation. You know… sort of super badass ‘you’re not even worth my time’ level of thing where you don’t even look at him to acknowledge that he threw you in the first place.’

Gearing mentally groans, No… that’d be inviting a lot of trouble. That’s a hugely disrespectful thing to do. Practically slapping him in the face. In front of everyone at that. And if he’s trying to pull the alpha card and prove his point, he’d have to kick my ass on principle alone…

‘Well then what are we going to do, just let him rag doll us all over the fucking arena?’ the little blue pegasus asks with a huff.

Gearing mentally grins as he says, Actually. I have another idea… Something that’ll let him sooth his ego, while at the same time cementing our capabilities to those around…

‘I don’t follow…’

Easy… make him look good, by going along with it, but making it look like he did far more than he did… and in doing so increase both of our reputations.

‘Are you going to get us seriously hurt again?’ the little blue pegasus asks with a moan as its eyes go wide and doesn’t like the idea at all.

Nope, I’m using the loaded dice, Gearing replies with a mental chuckle before he says, Just watch this! And then he deactivates SATS prematurely.

While he’d used a good amount of the charge, his thought process and jumping from point to point went rather quickly, even for him, so he still has some of the charge left by the time the world returns to normal speed. And as soon as it does, the feeling of air whipping through his mane and tail returns with a vengeance as he continues sailing through the air.

Gearing lets out a startled yell, and flails around a bit as the arc is flattening out and he starts coming back down. He twists and turns, and starts preparing himself for his landing as he sees his target. But, where his actual trajectory would have made him land somewhere in an open patch of grass, Gearing intentionally adjusts his angle with flaps of his wings disguised as panicked flailing. And he travels a bit further than he was going to originally. As he’s heading for the flat side of a metal box delivery wagon, Gearing gives one last flap to increase speed and activates SATS. And again the world slows down around him.

Gearing mentally grins as he thinks, And now for an extra bit of flavor…

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

As soon as the magic starts losing hold, and he’s sure that it’ll be in effect when he needs it, Gearing drops out of SATS again.

Gearing’s metric ton of brass slams into the wagon at the same ridiculous speed he was thrown at, but further enhanced with an extra last second wing powered boost. He folds his wings tightly to himself and crosses her forelegs in front of his head as he continues to yell in mock surprise and hits head first. The impact causes the wagon to flip over violently as Gearing passes right through the one side of the wagon, crashes into the merchandise that was stored inside, and impacts into the far side of the wagon as his landing is mostly cushioned. But, once inside, he quickly flung out his legs, splaying himself out to increase the surface area of impact as much as he could to try and avoid simply going straight through the wagon like a bullet. And, his plan works. Except instead of simply knocking the wagon over, the wagon rolls a full 270 degrees from the impact, contents and all, and comes to rest with the entry hole sitting on the ground.

The end result is a splayed out pegasus shaped embossing set into the sheet metal on the opposite side of the entry hole and coming to rest pointing straight up towards the artificial sky for all to see.

Everyone’s eyes go wide and a few snicker in a ‘damn that had to hurt’ tone as others physically wince at what had just been unleashed on Gearing. Everyone seems some level of startled, confused, impressed, or outright shocked.

Including Big Daddy himself as he tilts his head down with his jaw slightly loose. He lowers his sunglasses with a hoof and peeks over them at where he’d thrown Gearing as he takes in the damage he’d apparently unleashed.

Soots’s eyes go wide before he holds onto his belly with a forehoof and looks at his friend next to him in the Hoofington Fire Department uniform. “Holy shit did you just see that!? Big Daddy just threw him through a fucking wagon!”

Footnote: Reinitializing in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

System Check in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2 . . . Cycle Complete

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2: On Stand By Awaiting User’s Input . . .

Please Stand By. . .

78 Flag on the Play...

“My mutfruit!” the buck with the neck strap vendor tray yells out in dismay as he falls to his hind knees and slaps his forehooves onto his own cheeks in horror. He would recognize his wagon anywhere. Especially with all of the time he put into getting it moving again. And Big Daddy just wrecked it by throwing someone into it. And, worst of all, to him at least, he’s positive that his entire stock of fruits was just ruined or out right destroyed.

But no one pays the distraught buck any mind.

Murmurs start picking up among the crowd of witnesses to Big Daddy’s display as they try and figure out what they should do now, if anything. A few bets get passed around on if Gearing’s even still alive after that. Although it’s even money between those involved. And those who are sure he’s alive are convinced the ‘crypony in the golden armor’ wouldn’t be wearing the gaudy gold armor if it didn’t provide at least some protection. A few comments get passed around wondering who’s going to get stuck cleaning up the mess this time. A few wannabes, who swear they always get stuck with said duties, quickly make themselves scarce as soon as they realize the possibility of being chosen, yet again, to clean up might be happening soon.

But the comments from the peanut gallery come to an absolute halt shortly after they started as a rumbling noise escapes out of the wagon from unseen merchandise being moved and mangled.

Without any further warning, a golden brass foreleg, covered in some kind of purplish syrupy semi transparent ooze with small chunks of white and purple in it, punches up and out through the embossed sheet metal from the inside. Then another one with a PipBuck on it joins it through the same hole and thus widening it just a bit more. The protruding limbs pull apart from each other, ripping the sheet metal apart as the legs open up as if they are about to give someone a hug. The legs clamp down on the side of the wagon frame, near the top where the frame has more support, and then Gearing hoists himself up and pierces through the already mangled metal with his snoot and head.

And in doing so gives the impression to those around that some kind of mutant metallic baby bird is hatching out of the wagon itself.

Seeing this, and knowing exactly what the viscous fluid covering Gearing is, the vendor cries out, “My muuuutfruuuuuit!” But no one notices.

Gearing, with the rest of him covered in the same semi transparent purple fluid as his legs but with additional fragments of wood stuck to him too, looks around with a frown at the crowd of spectators as he asks, “What the hell?” Then he continues to look around before looking over and pointedly staring at Big Daddy. “Oh.” He pulls himself through the rest of the way, the metal squealing and screeching as it scraps against him until he’s out enough to hop away from the wagon. But instead of leaving he looks up, and then looks around himself, before turning around and sticking his front half back through the hole into the wagon. “Dammit, where’d that thing go?” He stands there, perched on just his hind hooves, as he rummages around inside of the wagon, before he pulls back upright holding his bent rifle with one forehoof. “There you are!” He gives it a vigorous shake, flinging off bits of sticky goo in various directions before slinging it back over his shoulder. “We’ve been through a lot today, ain’t we?” He gives the rifle’s butt a pat as he’s turning around before he hops off the wagon and flutters a bit. “I hope you didn’t get hurt any more with that nonsense.”

As Gearing is leaving the wagon, covered in pureed mutfruit, the vendor hangs his head and moans quietly, “My mutfruit…” But apparently no one cares as no one so much as looks at him.

Gearing comes in for a gentle landing, and then starts casually trotting towards Big Daddy as he asks, “Well hello to you too, Big Daddy. What the hell I do this time, or is this going to become our standard greeting? Like a secret hoofshake or something?”

Collective jaws hit the ground as even Dolor’s typically melancholic expressionless face is even painted with shock and confusion at the turn of events. And not least of all sources being Gearing’s nonchalant audacity of apparently not even caring about being thrown through sheet metal.

Gearing looks over at Soots as he’s walking towards Big Daddy and grins as he starts flicking off the purple goop that’s all over him. “Hey, fancy seeing you so soon!” He points towards Big Daddy as he gives Soots a mischievous grin. “See? I said I’d find him sooner or later.”

Soots’ deep belly laugh stops mid note as his face seems to freeze solid mid laugh. Like his face got stuck in that expression for a few seconds. Then his eyes slowly grow wider before he leans towards his Hoofington Fire Department suit wearing friend and says softly, “He- he’s not worried about Big Daddy…”

Big Daddy straightens up as he looks at Gearing and keeps sizing him, and the situation, up. “Well you’ve been taking your sweet ass time getting here. And that’s after you just took off in the middle of the night without a word. Kinda rude, don’t ya think?

Soots’ eyes go even wider as his body starts to shake, and his mug of beer starts splashing over the rim and out onto the ground as he whispers to his friend, “A- and… Big Daddy knows him… he knows him!”

His friend turns his helmeted head, pointing his facemask right towards Soots, and says flatly, “If you care about me in even the tiniest bit… don’t tell anyone it was my idea…” before he sharply turns and starts trotting away at an increasingly faster pace to get away from the gathering of ponies.

Soots sheepishly comments as he looks over at Big Daddy, “So… yeah… heeeere he iiiiiis… Just like I said… Right?” He looks back and forth as he gives a rather cringey grin. “We good? We’re all good?”

Big Daddy smirks as he looks over at him and nods. “Yeah, I know him. And yeah he did what they’ve been saying… I saw it with my own two eyes.” He leans down and looks at Soots over the edge of his sunglasses with his lightly glowing eyes.

Soots grins and nods before raising his shaky mug up towards him and says with a nervous chuckle, “G-great! You two should catch up and I… I should …” He looks into his mug, sees it’s nearly half empty now since he’s spilled it all over the ground, and quickly downs the entire thing in one go before holding up the mug upside damn and commenting, “Go get another drink! Yeah! Have fun!” He starts to leave then looks over to Gearing and says quickly, “Goodseeingyouagainhavefungoodbye!” before he takes off at a full blown run through the crowd and away from Gearing and Big Daddy.

Gearing stops a couple paces from Big Daddy and looks at Soots stampeding away as he comments, “I do believe that buck needs to take a break and relax. Seems awfully stressed and worked up.”

Several of the other ponies around snicker and snort, then turn around and leave as they’ve decided the excitement’s done passed and they’ve got better things to do than watch nothing happen. Although others have pointedly decided to linger around. Because if Big Daddy has taken an interest in somepony, then it’s somepony that they should be paying attention to as well by their reckoning. And there’s a few who have already connected the dots through several rumors and bits of news, and as such are already at least partially familiar with some of Gearing’s exploits. Whether Gearing likes it or not.

Gearing looks over at Dolor and frowns as he says, “See what I mean? I get thrown around and crash into shit all the time. It’s a big inconvenience sometimes.”

Dolor gives the slightest hint of a smile before he shrugs. “Well, you’re not dead.”

“Yeah, for better or worse, that’s true,” Gearing replies with a shrug. Earning an actual snicker from Dolor’s companion before Gearing asks, “You guys got any spare parts for this rifle? I really need to get it fixed.” He looks up at Big Daddy and shrugs as he says, “Bent gun ain’t getting much done.”

Dolor starts walking away as he says, “There are parts and those with things to help. I’ll help you get them later. I think you have bigger concerns at the moment.”

Gearing looks over at him and raises one eyebrow and ear as he asks, “Like?”

Big Daddy’s forehooves come down, wrap around Gearing’s head, and then turn it to face him as he says, “Like me for example?”

“Oh, yeeeaaaah… What’s up?” Gearing replies as he looks up at him with a smirk.

Big Daddy looks him over before giving an amused shake of his head and readjusting his sunglasses to cover up the faint illumination coming from his eyes. “Come on, I need to talk to you for a bit. We’ll have a drink while you explain yourself.”

Gearing trots along beside him as he asks, “How about I make you a drink while we talk?”

Big Daddy laughs with a deep chuckle before he asks, “Trying to suck up already?”

Gearing waves it away as he says, “Nah, but booze is wasted on me and you seem like a buck that might enjoy a few recipes I know.”

“Sure, why not,” Big Daddy replies as he leads the way towards the side of the arena that had the arena’s large scoreboard on it.

As they are walking in that direction Gearing can’t help but trailing his eyes towards the scoreboard and giving it a critical eye. It was painful to look at when he first walked in and saw it, so he’s tried not to. But now he can’t really avoid it as they’re walking straight in that direction. The neon lights that declare Hoofington Sports Arena are in need of some serious work. The constant flickering is maddening. Each pulse makes a certain part of Gearing want to fly up there, and take care of it himself. The whole place needs some work, in one way or another, but that sign is physically uncomfortable for Gearing to look at. And that cartoonish mascot of a stereotypical ‘reaper’, a scythe wielding skeletal pony, doesn’t help matters any in his opinion.

‘Home of the Hoofington Reapers’? No shit, Gearing thinks as he glares at the words on the sign and tries to will the lights to stop blinking out randomly. While he’s watching, a small section throws out a few sparks, and stops flickering. Because it goes out entirely. Gearing lets out a snort and bristles at the blatant neglect.

‘Would it make you feel better to join up with them, just so you can whip the ass of whoever is supposed to be taking care of this place, and isn’t?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it’s face down on a mind cloud and splayed out. It’s back to being the antithesis to ‘energetic’, but even though it’s far from feeling better in the least, at least it’s not gotten any worse.

Don’t tempt me, Gearing mentally retorts.

Gearing manages to tear his eyes away from the techgore by paying more attention to all of the ponies and other encampments they are passing. He can clearly see various markings showing who they are affiliated with. But, that only adds to the puzzle for him. For the closer they get to their apparent destination, the more Gearing can see of the various individuals. And their apparent favorite pastime: Training.

Along the whole way there’s ponies sparing, practicing various fighting styles, or just sitting around hoof wrestling. All of which have some level of spectators off to the side either cheering on one side, or both, or seemingly trying to learn from the others. And, side by side in some cases, are blatantly opposed gangers, judging by the affiliation they are wearing in various forms. The removable kind of marker, Gearing can see being practical, like the colored scarves some are wearing around their necks or legs. The tattoos some have might not be removable, but he can understand the choice. Tattoos go way back, after all. The ones with their gang affiliation actually branded into their very hide, with either hot irons or some other technique, Gearing can’t understand at all and he wonders about the mental health of any pony that thinks doing that to themselves is a good idea. True, it unquestionably shows dedication; he admits that. But it also shows a desperate need for a therapist by his measure.

But, even with the over aggressiveness of all of it. Even with the amount of muscle on display that would get both recruiters and lecherous ponies hot, bothered, and overly excited. Even with the amount of blood being drawn in a few cases. Even with the amount of drinking taking place. And in spite of the overall ‘might makes right’ vibes he’s gotten over these last few weeks: this is all coordinated competition. They aren’t simply trying to slaughter each other. It’s more like a pugilist combat-as-sport social group.

A fact which gets reinforced for him as he watches a mare miss blocking a strike from an incoming lead pipe, launched by the mare she’s sparring with, and take a devastating blow to the side of her head as a result. Blood spurts everywhere, and the mare starts stumbling as it looks to Gearing like her orbital bone was probably just crushed. Instantly the fight comes to a stop, a couple spectators come running over, and the assailant actually drops their pipe and starts helping the bleeding mare sit down. As they start tending to the bloody mare with various medical supplies, she actually starts laughing. Gearing twists his ears in their direction, wondering if it’s a form of concussion induced madness, but can’t help a smirk developing on his muzzle as he hears the half blind mare chastising herself for ‘being so stupid’.

Not long after that the pair start climbing a set of steps that are built into the stadium seating. Except these don’t go to where the majority of seats are, or were, located. This path leads to a tunnel. Above the tunnel entrance is an old original sign declaring Box Seating: A – H. Below that is an obvious newer addition, painted on the surface, stating Top Ten Only.

Given what he knows of the Reapers, and their constant jockeying for position, Gearing figures the sign is pretty self explanatory. But even so he makes a mental note to ask about it if it doesn’t come up naturally. Just in case it’s even more important than he thinks it is.

The tunnel the stairs led them up to is a relatively wide hallway that’s lined with poster displays for the teams that played here during the war. Some of them are mostly intact; others are completely gone with only the faded fragments of the original team poster dangling inside of the busted frame giving testimony to their existence. But as random as the condition of the majority seems to be, there are two very noticeable outliers. On one side, literally, is the practically religious shrine to the Hoofington Reapers hoofball team. What functions as the offering plate for those devote individuals tithing to the spirits of the past, are a group of trophies that Gearing can’t even place. To him, even at a glance, they look like cheap plastic novelty souvenirs. But, despite their chipped edges, cheap manufacture, and questionable origins, they’re currently stuffed with various offerings, including piles of caps that no one dares touch. On the other side of the hall is another oddity, especially for Gearing as he is very well aware of the ongoing beef the two teams had with each other. The Manehattan Maulers, despite being unrepentant rivals, have their own poster enshrined in a place of honor across from the Reapers. But instead of caps, the Maulers have been tithed a variety of creative words and phrases. Some of which are so comically badly written that Gearing has to suppress a laugh. Whereas the Reapers have piles of caps, The Maulers have their ‘gifts’ written on the wall, floor, and even ceiling, radiating out from the poster, in every direction and tightly packed at that, for nearly a dozen feet. But, despite the ire directed at them, the poster itself remains unmarred, unblemished, and protected such that not so much as a foalish drawing of a mustache has been applied to any of the ponies. Which just confuses Gearing all the more.

Further up the hallway, and not long after passing the puzzling ritualistic behavior, they arrive at a door labeled Manager. Big Daddy opens it casually, walks through, and then heads over to where an old couch and end table have been set up. As he’s opening up the end table he waves over to the corner where a bar is set up. “Bar’s stocked. Normally I’m the one making drinks in here. But, let’s see what you got hot shot.” He pulls a cigar out of the end table, nips the tip off, pops it into his mouth, and lights it with an old golden lighter. But despite the care given to it, time has played havoc on it and it clearly registers for Gearing as not actually gold but instead tarnished brass: a metal that Gearing is intimately familiar with.

Big Daddy spins around and lounges on the couch that’s so old and used that the fabric covering it has started falling apart with individual threads clearly visible in places. Big Daddy watches Gearing step into the room and nods towards the bar with his chin, with the burning cigar pointing right at it, before using his tongue and rolling the lit cigar to the side of his mouth. “There’s some towels back there too, wipe that goop off of yourself while you’re at it.”

“Thanks,” Gearing comments as he’s stepping in and closing the door behind himself with a forehoof. As he’s finishing the rotation, from turning around to close the door to facing the bar, time comes to a near halt as he activates SATS.

Gearing makes a quick mental check of the room now that the door is closed. Closing it wasn’t just a matter of privacy, he also looked to see if there was anyone following them. He wasn’t sure what to expect once Big Daddy got him alone. But unlike Gearing’s concerns, Big Daddy seems perfectly amiable for a lengthy conversation. Especially with how he’s already gotten himself comfortable on the couch. And, now that Gearing thinks about, he realizes the same amount of concern crept up with Bottlecap. The parallels draw a mental smile as the thought crosses his accelerated mind. Despite his actions or apparent reputation and rumors, both are perfectly comfortable with being in a room alone with him. Both have private offices that are decorated with 200 year old memorabilia for their chosen hobby. Although Big Daddy’s office has far more newspapers pasted up on the majority of the space. There’s also that projector set up behind the couch, which Gearing figures is for Big Daddy to watch old Reaper game footage using that large spot on the wall without newspapers as the screen. Gearing can’t help but mentally chuckle as he wonders if Big Daddy had brought him up here to fix his projector. Big Daddy also has the unquestionable advantage of a window with a view. Many of them at that, as the one whole wall is nearly nothing but windows and lets in the artificial sunshine to light the room spectacularly. And beyond that, you can see the entire arena from this vantage point.

And that realization starts making Gearing concerned about potential snipers. But it doesn’t last long as he remembers that this particular group prefers things up close and personal. They want you to know who did you in when it happens. So he wills himself not to be so worried about it, even if he is potentially behind enemy lines and in the belly of the beast at the moment.

After finishing his sweep, looking for signs of hidden doors with security behind it, or hidden turrets, Gearing’s goes ahead and deactivates SATS. Although as time resumes, he can’t help noticing that the newspapers hung around on the walls have a surprising number of mentions of the Manehattan team. Even more so given that the win-loss ratio with them was tragically unflattering for the Hoofington Reapers.

Without missing a beat, and giving no outward indication at all that he’d just taken a time warp time out, Gearing heads straight towards the bar as he says, “Thanks! This stuff’s sticky!”

Gearing trots over to the mini bar and grabs a couple of the aforementioned towels. He quickly starts wiping off with them, dropping the sticky soiled towels in a bucket behind the bar that already had others of the same type as they become oversaturated with the purplish semi transparent mess. After getting himself mostly clean, Gearing starts rooting around behind the bar as he says, “I just gotta make sure you got everything, or see what I can use as a substitute… Ah HAH!” Gearing sets a bottle of whiskey off to the side on the counter and pops the top off of a Sparkle Cola as he’s setting up a hot plate with his wings. In short order he’s simmering the Sparkle Cola in a small pan over the hot plate while he gets a glass ready off to the side.

Big Daddy casually puffs on his cigar as he looks at Gearing working at the bar: proficiently at that. He takes a long pull from the cigar, before letting it out in a long exhaust-like sigh. He balances the cigar on his forehoof and holds it off to the side before he asks, “So you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Gearing carefully stirs and cooks the Sparkle Cola and watches it as it loses a lot of its volume and thickens up considerably. “The drink? It’s just something I picked up during the war. Couldn’t always get what we needed so we had to improvise. And you strike me as a buck that’d enjoy this one.”

“I’m not talking about the drink, I'm talking about that stunt with the wagon. I know I didn’t throw you hard enough to cause that kind of damage and I know where you should have landed… So why’d you do that?” He takes a puff off his cigar before he angles his sunglasses down and starts paying close attention to Gearing. “Did you just say ‘war’?”

Gearing nods as he removes the thickened Sparkle Cola concoction from the heat, turns off the hot plate, and starts mixing everything together in the glass by pouring it over a large ice cube in the center of the cup. “Yup.” He gently starts stirring the drink as he’s holding it with one hoof, by swirling the little metal swizzle stick the whole way as he makes his way to Big Daddy. He hands it over as he looks Big Daddy in the eye and says flatly, “The war. And, yes, I’m rather confident in saying I’m most likely older than you and everyone you’ve ever known. Depending on how we’re gonna count age that is.” He pulls the swizzle stick away as he grins at Big Daddy. “This is a Front Line Old Fashioned… lemmie know what ya think.” And after waving the swizzle stick over the glass like it were a magic wand, he starts mindlessly twirling it with the pinions of his right wing off to the side.

“Uh huh…” Big Daddy takes the glass and understandably raises an eyebrow at Gearing’s declaration before gently taking a sip. His glowing eyes go wide as he looks down at it. “That’s not bad, not bad at all!”

Gearing grins widely at him, and then sits down in front of him, on the floor, as he says, “I’m glad you enjoy it.” He waves a hoof as he says, “And, now for your question… I’m sure you realized it, but I did it intentionally.”

“Uh huh, but why? Trying to showboat?” Big Daddy asks as he eyeballs him suspiciously. Though it doesn’t stop him from enjoying the drink with regular sips.

Gearing shakes his head. “Nope. I did it to make you look good –not that you need help in that, obviously- but I wanted to make sure that anyone that thought I’d come here to challenge you would know that that’s not the case and that I’m well aware of the pecking order around here and, most importantly, I’m falling in line with everyone else… That I know who the boss is around here and have zero intention of being some kind of rival or competition for the group.”

Big Daddy swirls the drink around a bit before he says, “And somehow… I don’t believe that.”

Gearing takes in a deep breath, and then lets it out in a heavy sigh. “Mind if I give you my personal impression, and assessment of your Reapers? Then you can correct me if I’ve made any mistakes in my understanding. But either way I’m sure you’ll understand the ‘whys’ of my reasoning afterward.”

“Sure, let’s hear it,” Big Daddy replies as he waves towards him with one hoof but settles back into the couch.

Gearing sets the swizzle stick onto the end table, walks over to the window, and looks out. He momentarily glances up at the artificial sky above the field, and feels a pang of regret at the visual representation of what he’s lost. He forces his view down onto the ponies and the general Hoofington Reaper’s settlement as he starts arranging his thoughts. He wants to diffuse any potential unfavorable situation that might arise from this whole chain of events. Best case scenario in his mind is being on good terms with Big Daddy and his Reapers, so that they’d be more likely to provide information willingly, without being expected to take part in whatever nonsense they get themselves into.

Gearing slowly starts moving his head, and focus, around towards the different areas outside as he talks, keeping apprised of everything going on out there as he explains his point of view. “Around Megamac, I’d barely gotten any information besides a name and a lot of fanfillying over said name. So all that did was give me a footnote to look into later… I got a lot more information from Silver Shoes, Orchid, and the rest of the group of Freight Cars that were there after I dug myself out of the rubble of that building. Once they realized I was with Iron Hoof, they were all too happy to chatter and share information as we cleared out one building after another on the way back to the crash site.” Gearing shakes his head as he smirks, “The level of hero worship those fillies were gushing was like they were talking about the second coming of Rainbow Dash herself…”

He pauses as he looks at the large wire dome at the end of the field where he’s sure official bouts are fought. “So that gave me the expectation that the Reapers were an elite fighting force that split their time between training, and kicking ass of whichever group that others couldn’t handle.” He glances at Big Daddy and gets a slight shrug in response, so he goes back to examining the goings on outside of the window. “But that’s all second hand information. Useful, but not enough to really make any judgments. Even as a ‘first impression’ because I hadn’t really had any interactions with them.” He quickly glances over at Big Daddy and adds, “Meeting you at Megamac doesn’t count because I didn’t know who you were at the time.” Then he stares at a few ponies down below hoof wrestling as he says, “Which means my first impression… was No Shoes trying to rob and extort me… and using the Reapers to do it.”

Gearing looks over at Big Daddy, and notices that Big Daddy is simply staring back at him, albeit over his sunglasses. But Gearing realizes the buck is old, wise, and considerate enough for Gearing to actually say his piece. And that Big Daddy seems to have noted that Gearing’s not even nearly done with his analysis as he’d just now gotten to his own ‘first impression’, let alone anything else. Gearing sees the thoughtfulness of it as a positive sign and gives a slight nod before turning and looking out the window again. “You see, the biggest part of my job during the war was threat analysis… Collect all of the information I could about a particular individual, or group, from every source I could. Then weigh it all based on various criteria, including how trustworthy the source itself was. And then deal with any threats that I could, or make recommendations on how to mitigate them. In whichever way deemed appropriate.” Gearing waves a hoof as he rattles off, “Mark them as harmless if that’s what came up. Have them arrested. Call in a strike. Buy them off or sell them out. Whatever was deemed the best choice for each situation.”

“Take their head off by smashing it straight through a sheet of solid steel?” Big Daddy asks as he gives a slight grin around his cigar.

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks around. “Look, I didn’t want any part of that. It wasn’t my idea. No Shoes forced me into it.”

“And you stomped his head straight through the train car before I could even get my drink,” Big Daddy says matter of factly as he swirls what’s left of his current drink for emphasis.

“Again, his idea.” He waves a hoof around. “Well, I mean, I gave him a chance to back out, but made it perfectly clear what the stakes were.” He shakes his head. “He was just too busy being stuck on stupid to listen. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life worrying about our foals getting kidnapped or murdered because of some greedy dumb ass. I’m not gonna do it.”

The two look at each other for a few moments as Gearing can feel the tension rising in the room thick enough to choke a normal pony.

Gearing pointedly turns away from Big Daddy, showing him his back, as he continues on. “I take it as a matter of personal pride, and prudent attentiveness, that no matter what an individual does, I do not blame whatever group they are a part of just for the individual’s actions. It doesn’t matter what group you use as a sample, inside of that group is going to be a ‘worst of the worst’ even among the most righteous. And it wouldn’t be right to punish the rest for some idiot’s fuckups.”

“And what about the Wild Ones?” Big Daddy asks, drawing Gearing’s immediate attention. Big Daddy grins widely as sees the reaction. “What? Didn’t think I’d hear about that? You went from just meeting them to a kill on sight mentality in the course of minutes. Because one shot you down? How do you reconcile that with your ‘prudent attentiveness’?” He waves it away with a hoof and leans back as he appears rather pleased with himself. “Don’t get me wrong, they deserved it whether you realized it at the time or not… But it does contradict what you just said.”

“First, that wasn’t one of them.” Gearing says with his eyes instantly narrowed. “It was a large group of them. They were working in tandem in that ambush. It was coordinated. They were working to herd us into even worse crossfire. So the group as a whole was taking part in it. But, you know what, despite that… if that was it… I would have left the rest of them alone. I would have dealt with the ones actively trying to kill us, and leave it at that.”

This time it’s Gearing’s opportunity to be self pleased at Big Daddy’s reaction.

“What, didn’t expect that?”

“No, and I don’t think I really believe it either,” Big Daddy says as he chews on his cigar.

Gearing shrugs as he looks at him. “It’s a fact… But then that wasn’t all that happened, as I’m sure you know.” Getting nothing further from Big Daddy, Gearing continues, “I heard the drugged out fiends talking among themselves. I also got more information from various Freight Cars. And the shit I heard made me sick. So, yeah, they are kill on sight for me.” He tilts his head and grins. “Just like they are kill on sight for all of the Freight Cars and Reapers…” He waves his hoof at Big Daddy and adds, “If I found out about it in that short of time, and you already have them listed as free game, then you already know the sick shit they’ve done for sure.”

“That’s the reason you slaughtered them wholesale?” Big Daddy asks as he arcs one of his whitening eyebrows.

“All of it combined, yes. It wasn’t a single act. Nor a single individual. The group, as a whole, was rotten to the core.” He tilts his head as he follows up. “But you already knew that part, didn’t you?”

Big Daddy grins around his cigar as he takes in a deep breath. “Of course.”

“And, for an example going the other way…” He motions towards his rifle. “Few bucks made the mistake of shooting at us… I managed to convince them that knocking it off would not only be better for everyone involved, but for their life expectancy too.”

Big Daddy chuckles as he asks, “That a fact?”

Gearing nods. “Well, the first couple weren’t very cooperative, so they were dealt with… the last buck was smart enough to see the writing on the walls and listen to reason… And from what I can tell thus far, he spread the word and kept up their end of the bargain. None of their group has tried anything else since then. So I consider the matter settled.” He looks at Big Daddy a bit longer before adding quietly, “During the war I was in the thick of it. For long stretches at a time. I’ve seen shit that’d make a goat vomit. But, regardless of everything that happened, even how the world ended up… I do not hold any grudges against the zebra. Certain ones? Sure. I know for a fact some lived far longer than would be karmic… But then, the same could definitely be said for a good number of ponies too… Especially those self important uptight asshole nobles.”

The last comment draws a snort of amusement from Big Daddy before he sips from his drink again.

“So, no, I don’t blame groups for the actions of an individual. Never have, never will. If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now because I’d make it a point of avoiding the lot of you. Because No Shoes did, and without question, make a point of making himself an unavoidable threat to me and those I care about. Unlike that dumbass, I don’t make enemies of people unnecessarily. That’s a really moronic move. And that’s not even factoring in the fact that, eventually, you’re most likely going to piss someone off that you really shouldn’t and end up with your head getting knocked off for you.” Gearing waves towards Big Daddy with a hoof. “I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about… And have had to knock the heads off of more than a few ponies who started trouble with you and obviously didn’t know who they were fucking with.”

“Ohhh yeaahhh…” Big Daddy confirms with a single nod as he chuckles. Though the comment sounds extra pleased with the analysis. But then Big Daddy adds, “Sometimes somepony shows they’re just a bit too psycho to be left around. And we have to cull the raider population every so often because there’s just no reasoning with them. So they gotta go too and for the same reason.”

Gearing looks over at Big Daddy and a smile works its way up his muzzle as that’s not only new information, but pleasant to hear for him. And, potentially, something he can use to his advantage. And soon at that. “Right. So.” He looks out the window again and waves towards the ponies down below with a forehoof. “And then I get here…” He takes in a deep breath, and he can feel Big Daddy’s intense stare at his back.

Gearing looks over to where there’s a bonfire, surrounded by what he assumes are Burner Boys. “And at the front gate you have a weapon’s check station. Not for all weapons, just ranged weapons. So no one accidentally gets hurt if a beef breaks out into a full on fight. But those coming and going are trotting around just as casually as they would have 200 years ago… and inside here, there’s lots of aggressiveness. Being actively encouraged at that. But, it’s all organized chaos: despite the fighting and injuries there’s a lot of care taken. All of these groups have come together for a common goal. And the strength here, of the ponies in general, is statistically ahead of the curve from what I know as standard. Which means, you’ve been siphoning off the best ponies for your own crew. You’ve been pirating the muscle from the surrounding gangs, thus lowering their strength and limiting what they can do. And, with all of the perks, and name recognition, it seems you’ve made the Reapers a prestigious organization. Something that people aren’t just clamoring to, to avoid getting their ass kicked by you, but because it’s genuinely something to aspire to. It’s not simply a matter of being the most feared bad ass gang in all of Hoofington. Because there is definitely a difference between fear and respect, but you’ve managed to deeply inspire both. You’re not all trying to just kill each other just for the sake of it, you’re improving yourselves. You’ve pretty much made a game of it. But, like with games in general, you have your rules you follow and a strong sense of sportsmanship… You might be kicking the crap out of each other, but it’s all in good fun without animosity for each other in the process. You’ve forged genuine camaraderie even among members of various opposing groups.”

Gearing turns back around towards Big Daddy, and pointedly sits down, before he says, “So. I get it… The Reapers are a product of the times… and from what I can tell, over all, its mere existence is improving the Hoofington wasteland… Given what all I’d seen, and with you all existing and ‘being a thing’… I can imagine how bad the area was before you, and how bad it would be without you… so… I get it.” He tilts his head and asks with a smirk, “So, how’d I do? Did I hit the nail on the head, or did I miss something?”

Big Daddy takes a long drag from the cigar, then blows it out in a puff of smoke, right towards Gearing. And as his lips curl into a smile, the ring he’d blown grows and perfectly encircles Gearing’s head as it washes over him. “A pretty good bullseye actually,” Big Daddy comments with a chuckle. “I didn’t expect you to be a ‘big picture’ kinda buck based on your hard line stances and how quickly you seem to pass judgment.”

Gearing shrugs. “I’ve had a lot of practice…” He lets out a sigh. “I have a general code to follow. Rules and regulations. But, snap decision making isn’t only expected, it’s mandatory.” He waves a hoof towards the window as he looks down. “If you get intel that a buck is carrying a bomb, you have to make a decision. And you have to take in all of the available information, weigh the risks, and make a decision based on your goals. Sometimes the information is wrong. Sometimes it was a distraction… Sometimes that might cost an innocent buck his life… But that’s the cost of playing the game… The term they used was ‘Collateral Damage’… as if that euphemism made it better…” He stares Big Daddy in the eyes. “But that was also reality. Because the other possibility is that the buck intended on detonating it in the middle of a crowded mall, concert, or school.” He taps on the floor, hard. “As an officer you are put in a scenario, and you are expected to make a decision. And, typically, there is no clear cut black and white answer. And you gotta make your decision quick, because delays and indecision can be far more fatal.” He shakes his head. “My tactics have always involved starting from the least damaging and working my way up from there.”

“And that bounty hunter you stomped on right in front of Megamart?” Big Daddy asks, but the smile on his face wavers just a bit as the question doesn’t even seem to faze Gearing.

“I put myself in that position looking at the big picture. Every single one I can convince and avoid fighting, by convincing it won’t be worth it, is one less individual I have to deal with later. They get removed from the equation. The asshole in question demonstrated his unwillingness to change by trying to kill me. But he gave me an opportunity to convince many others to give up their bullshit.” Gearing shrugs. “His death saved dozens, if not hundreds, of lives. And countless lives in the long run.” He lets out a sigh and brings up another point, “Words are the lowest costing attempt. I always start with them. And only progress from there if words fail.” He waves towards the window as he says with another sigh. “I tried to convince No Shoes when he challenged me and tried to extort me. He wouldn’t listen. His mind was made up. It wouldn’t budge… Words failed. And the end result of him losing his life is because of that and I had few other alternatives.”

“Like not killing him over a property challenge?” Big Daddy asks.

“Like killing everyone to make sure there was no one left to try and extort me again?” Gearing asks quickly and gets a surprised look from Big Daddy as a result. Gearing waves his hoof around. “It was another big picture situation, Big Daddy. That challenge and all of the Reaper rights and rules was sprung on me out of nowhere. I had no idea where it would end. I had no idea what else would be dropped on me. Nor if it really was an actual rule or just some bullshit that was being played on me by a group who was going to keep changing the rules to make sure the house wins. So I had to kill No Shoes to set a high cost of entry for trying that shit again. Again, showing that it just ain’t worth it. Just like that bounty hunter that tried to skewer me. Otherwise I could have been challenged one after another after another after another and, eventually, that would have crossed the line at some point and I’d just have to deal with the whole group.” He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t want it to come to that. And that’s why I left in the middle of the night. To remove the conflict from the equation so nopony else had to die.”

Big Daddy downs the rest of his drink and sets it on the end table next to the couch before leaning back and puffing on his cigar thoughtfully. After a few more smoke rings are blown up towards the ceiling, with his eyes glued on Gearing, he asks, “So… that’s the real reason you came here, huh? To see if you could talk your way out of whatever you think you’ve gotten yourself into… but if not, we got a problem?”

Gearing closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath before letting it out long and slow. “Look, I didn’t want any part of that fight with No Shoes. I did everything I could to get out of it. I wasn’t trying to fight the Reapers. I wasn’t trying to become a Reaper.” He flicks a hoof towards the window as he says, “You’ve got hundreds of ponies practically killing themselves to do exactly that.” He taps on his own articulated chest plates as he says, “I don’t want it!” He shakes his head and leans in as he says, “Big Daddy, I’m the wrong buck for the job. I hate fighting… I hate killing. I can’t fucking stand it.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying I find that very hard to believe given your history,” Big Daddy comments evenly as he waves his cigar at Gearing.

Gearing looks down as he says softly, “I have… killed… more people… in the last week alone… than I did during the entire war…” He looks up at Big Daddy and narrows his eyes. “And I’m not pulling some bigoted shit here… If you tallied up the souls of every single zebra, griffin, pony, or any other sentient creature… If you added them all up, the ones I killed- I had to kill… the number is far smaller than the lives I’ve had to take this past week alone…” He waves a hoof off to the side. “Back then I had options… Now my only options are trying to convince them to change… letting them continue their rampage of causing others misery… or killing them… that’s it.”

Big Daddy pulls out his cigar and twirls it on his forehoof a bit as he looks at it and asks, “So, what, you want out of being a Reaper? That’s your whole reason for coming here?”

“I didn’t want it in the first place and didn’t even know that was a thing until well after the fact,” Gearing replies as he looks straight at Big Daddy.

A sly grin crosses Big Daddy’s muzzle before he pops his cigar back into his mouth. He lets out a throaty cackle before he asks around the burning embers, “What if I told you that Security will be joining us soon?”

Pinkie Pie Announcement

Okay, that’s just plain MEAN, ya big bully!

Can you believe the NERVE of this guy?

I would make a joke about his smoking habits being the death of him, but I don’t want to give away too many spoilers.

[grabs another book off a nearby shelf]

[flips through pages]

Yeah, that’s what I THOUGHT… TANK you very much!

Now back to the story!

Gearing blinks a couple times. “Excuse me, what?”

“I’ve heard about your little escapades with disrupting the bounty hunters after her. Made a big deal about making yourself an obstacle to them. Smashing heads. Gunning them down.” Big Daddy chuckles as he waves a hoof around. “Just generally putting the fear of Nightmare Moon in them…” He leans towards Gearing and grins. “All to keep her safe. A pony you’ve never met. Is that the kinda pony that turns you into a fanfilly? Apparently Red Beard thinks you have the hots for her…”

Gearing finds himself lost in a sea of confusion. He shakes his head before he says, “She’s doing good work. Doing real good around The Hoof. Anyone that wants to off her for that’s gotta be a bad pony to begin with.” Gearing waves a hoof dismissively. “Not a hard line to set when you look at the big picture.” He tilts his head. “But, what about her? What’s this about her becoming a Reaper? That’s the first I’m hearing about it.”

Big Daddy nods as he leans back and is quite pleased at the attention this has garnered. “Yeah. She is.” He spits his cigar out onto his hoof, then points at Gearing with it. “See, you killed No Shoes. He was a Reaper. But he was the lowest on the scoreboard, because he just got in after all of the fights he’d been through.” He flicks the cigar up into the air, and deftly catches it between his teeth. He takes in a deep pull from it before he lets the cloud of smoke come out in a gush through his wide grin. “Security, on the other hoof, killed Gorgon… and he was in the top ten.”

Gearing stares at him for a few moments before asking quietly, “So that we’re all on the same page here. ‘Top Ten’ would mean… the strongest ten fighters you have, right? Highest ranked?” Big Daddy gives a slow solitary nod so Gearing looks off to the side as he finishes, “Right. Figured as much given the apparent meritocracy going on around here…” He taps on his chin a bit before he says quieter, “If he made it into the top ten, then, given how everyone else is below that, he’d have to be pretty damn tough… and if she beat him-”

“Means she’s even tougher than him and we want her in,” Big Daddy finishes Gearing’s thought for him while confirming it too.

“I see,” Gearing replies flatly.

Big Daddy waves it off with a forehoof as he says, “I sent one of the other top ten to go track her down and bring her here. With a hole in the top ten roster, that’s going to make some waves. We can’t have ponies thinking we’re getting soft. So she’s gonna join us.” He smiles as he says, “I’m sure she’ll join us, we’ve got a lot to offer her. Including helping her with this little bounty problem she has. Because if you fuck with one Reaper, you fuck with us all.”

“And, since you’re not into slaving,” Gearing ponders aloud, “she’d probably not have any problems with working with you.”

“No siree.”

Gearing holds up one foreleg with the other by resting it on his elbow while he taps on his chin with his free forehoof.

“Well?” Big Daddy asks with a genuine smile.

“I’m still the wrong buck for the job.”

The smile falls off Big Daddy’s face.

“Now, hold on a minute,” Gearing says as he waves a hoof towards Big Daddy. “I’m not saying I want nothing to do with you. And I’m certainly not planning on setting up some kind of rival operation.”

Big Daddy’s face darkens as he puffs on his cigar and obviously really doesn’t like this not going where he was expecting it to.

Gearing points out the window. “You’re entire shtick is being the biggest baddest badass gang around, right? No one wants to mess with you because they know the repercussions of it. Right?”

Big Daddy lets a malicious grin cross his muzzle as he nods agreement.

“Okay, see, that’s the problem?” Gearing says.

There’s a light of recognizance in Big Daddy’s eyes before he relaxes a bit and waves for Gearing to continue. “What are you seeing in this big picture of yours?”

Gearing grins warmly then nods as he’s hoping he can articulate it well enough. “I work better when no one knows me. I work better in the shadows. Where others don’t even know. If I’m so recognizable on sight, as the Reapers normally are, that will make me less effective at what I’m doing.”

“I’m pretty sure that cat’s out of the bag already. Especially with your gallivanting around pissing off slavers and bounty hunters left and right,” Big Daddy replies evenly, and reasonably.

Gearing nods his head around and lets out a long groan. “Valid… if I had my damn skin it wouldn’t be such an issue. I could just blend in easier.”

“So if you’re being recognized easily anyway, why not join? What’s the difference?” Big Daddy asks as he leans back into the couch and looks Gearing over.

Gearing looks at Big Daddy for a few moments before he says, “Because there’s a strong possibility that the things I’m going to be getting myself into, is going to be drawing a lot of agro my way. And if there’s a large organization attached to me, there’s the possibility that they’ll go after them, trying to hurt me in some way.” He taps on his chest as he says, “A single pony is fast, maneuverable, and can strike and disappear. An organization is big, slow, and an easy target.”

Big Daddy starts chuckling as he asks, “So, what, you’re concerned about us?! That you’ll get us dragged into something because of something you do?”

Gearing throws his wings up in the air, grabs the artificial sunlight coming in through the window with them, and sparkles it around himself as he strikes a pose. “Well, I am THE Glorious Bastard… I’m a professional at pissing people off. I’m talking weapons-grade thorn in flanks.”

“I believe it with the headache you’re giving me,” Big Daddy says with a chuckle as he’s putting out what is left of the stub of the cigar he’s been smoking on.

“Okay, so, hear me out…” Gearing says as he quickly, and brazenly, pulls out another cigar from the end table, and the lighter Big Daddy had used. Gearing holds the cigar with one wing, deftly cuts the tip off with a pair of his crystalline pinions from his other wing, and then holds it out for Big Daddy. Big Daddy smirks and accepts it watching Gearing carefully. Gearing flips the lighter and ignites it, holding the flame up for Big Daddy. Big Daddy lightly shakes his head, pops the cigar in his mouth, and leans in as Gearing lights the cigar for him. After Big Daddy gets it started with a strong ember, Gearing replaces the lighter and goes back to looking at Big Daddy as he settles back into the couch.

“Tell me what you think of this…” Gearing starts as he waves his wings off to the left side. “You already have Swift. We’ve talked about it before. And she’s a martial maniac. A pugilist at heart. She just loves a good fight.” Gearing points to the right with both wings. “So she’ll be a good fit with you all. I can’t really speak for her, but we’ve talked before. And she’s definitely interested in getting better and improving herself. That was her whole reason for traveling to Freight Cars territory after the fight at Megamac. And she’ll deny it, but she loves the attention and recognition for her skills. And if she runs into any serious problems, even if they come for you all, I’d likely end up getting involved just as a matter of course.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Big Daddy asks before he takes in a light puff of the cigar, tasting the smoke for a while before letting it out.

“At bare minimum, a nonaggression agreement,” Gearing says matter-of-factly.

Big Daddy starts laughing, loudly, before he leans sideways and points at Gearing. “With… you? Just… you?!” He waves a hoof around as he asks, “Isn’t that something you normally do with an organization?”

“Normally, yes. But I’m not a normal pony, and I think you know that. And, in the event your worst case scenario comes up and I do start up an organization, I’d be the one in charge of it and the agreement would not only stand but apply to whatever organization as well,” Gearing says flatly.

“And why wouldn’t we just stomp you into the ground instead of dealing with that nonsense?” Big Daddy asks point blank.

“Because you’d lose a lot in the process. And I’m not just talking about the number I’d probably remove from the chessboard before being taken out myself… Though that would be a large loss of life in the process that I’d rather we avoided… I’m an asset. You wanting me here at all proves you already know that. So… you can call in favors… and depending on what’s going on it might not be so much a favor as you just letting me know something I want to know and me taking care of it anyway.” He waves between them and adds, “And all I’m asking in return, is not to unnecessarily make us enemies… and some information here and there.” Gearing grins as he says, “And in return you get someone who’s capable of removing heads with hooves or guns in a matter of seconds if and when the need arises.” He stares at Big Daddy’s blank expression and ends up flailing his forelegs around as he says, “Awww come on! It’s a great deal! You know what a nonaggression agreement is, right?”

“Yeah, I do…” Big Daddy says as he slowly smokes his cigar. “We have a ceasefire agreement going with the Steel Rangers… but the way things have been going it won’t take much and we’ll be smashing Crunchy Carrots’ toys. One spark is all it’s going to take for all out war to break out.”

“Well, see… I don’t want there to be that kind of tension between us. There doesn’t need to be. And if you’re worried about me just coming back later for whatever reason… We’ll up the agreement…” Gearing comments reasonably. To the raised eyebrow he gets in response Gearing adds, “We’ll agree, that if something comes up between us that makes us pissed at the other, we’ll at least talk about it first. And nothing happens unless those communications break down, and both are fully aware of it at the point of leaving. There’ll be no sneak attacks. No blind sides. I don’t just arbitrarily screw people over, and have no intention of doing it to the Reapers.” He smiles as he shrugs. “I’m not from here. I don’t intend on staying around The Hoof. But just because I’m not going to be here, doesn’t mean there needs to be animosity between the Reapers and me. I mean, it’s not my arena after all.” He grins widely and leans sideways as he looks at Big Daddy expectantly.

Big Daddy just keeps looking at him.

Gearing slowly raises an eyebrow.

Big Daddy slowly raises an eyebrow in response.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments, ‘I… don’t think he got the reference…’

Gearing blinks a few times before asking, “You know… like the Manehattan Maulers?”

Big Daddy’s eyes pop open a bit more before he asks, “What?”

Gearing waves his forehoof as he says slowly, “The Manehattan Maulers… ‘Not My Arena’?” He waves his hoof around to all of the newspapers around as he says, “Oh come on! That was clever!” To the blank expression Big Daddy gives him Gearing sighs and says, “The entire reason for the rivalry between the Hoofington Reapers and the Manehattan Maulers?”

“What?!” Big Daddy asks in genuine surprise, and that just draws a smile from Gearing that grows by the second.

“Wait, you didn’t know?!” Gearing asks with a wide smile across his muzzle. Big Daddy looks around a bit, trying to get some kind of direction for the conversation, then just shrugs. Gearing prances around in a circle towards the window while chuckling to himself. He turns around, and starts walking and wobbling as he says with his voice doing an impersonation of a really old pony, “You ain’t hear tell of what all started the fight between the Reapers and the Maulers? Well now! Let this geriatric old relic tell you young whippersnapper a thing or two.”

Big Daddy snorts an inhale in amusement, and ends up coughing. And the coughing devolves into laughing as Gearing seems to take on the persona of a pensioner.

Gearing sits down and waves a hoof at Big Daddy, “It was neigh on over 200 years ago… during the great war! When the grass was green, the sky was blue, and coal prices were higher than a noble’s snobby nose!” He points over to one of the newspapers with the Manehatten Maulers and comments, “There was a great player that got drafted. And not in the military. They got brought on up to the professionals here in Hoofington… They became a Reaper!” He waves a hoof around at all of the memorabilia. “Oh, but that’s just the beginning, not the happy ending, no siree bob… Because this player, was reeaaaallly superstitious… They swore that Hoofington was full of evil spirits. That they could hear their screams! The Hoofington bowl scared the shoes off them it did!” He chuckles then waves off to the side. “So, despite just getting signed to a contract, they did everything they could to get away from Hoofington. They paid a slew of fines and penalties but managed it. They even refused to do any public events in Hoofington. And this made a lot of ponies around the Hoof mighty sore. They felt snubbed. So when they signed up for the Manehattan Maulers, a lot of folks took it personal.” Gearing points over to a newspaper of a match between the Maulers and Reapers. “That first match between the Maulers and Reapers since they jumped teams, was here in Hoofington. And that match had the highest fouls and penalties of any single game in professional hoofball history… almost exclusively committed by the Reapers.”

Big Daddy leans in, his attention focused and Gearing can’t help but smile as he sees the buck’s genuine glee at hearing about it.

“The Reapers wiped the floor with that pony. But, they never gave up. It didn’t deter them. And even though several Reaper players got ejected from the game for getting in foul trouble, the game went on. The Reapers lost that match because they were too focused on punishing the pony they felt snubbed and disrespected them.” Gearing nods before he says, “The next game was at Manehattan’s arena… And even though the pony was still beat up from the last match, they still played. They never backed down. And the Maulers won that match too. And during one of the interviews they were asked about how things were going and if they were worried about the continued abuse from the Reapers. The pony went on to ask everyone to respect the players, and the sport. That they had no ill will towards the Reapers. That them leaving Hoofington was a personal choice, with their own personal circumstances and it had nothing to do with the Reaper players nor the fans of Hoofington. They smiled for the cameras and said they looked forward to playing them again. And they hoped everyone understood that. They’d said there doesn’t need to be any animosity between the Reapers and them. And said ‘It’s not my arena, after all. My home is in Manehattan.’ And even after that the only time they went to Hoofington, was to play the Reapers, but they never missed a match. And it didn’t take long for the grudge to fade away and the teams to get back to enjoying the game again.”

Gearing stands on his hindlegs and waves his forehoof around above him as he says, "And that’s the story of how a single superstitious pony caused grudge matches between a pair of teams, only to have it evolve into a respectful rivalry where teamwork and sportsmanship were held in highest regard.” Gearing looks down at Big Daddy and smirks as he says, “They still kicked the crap out of each other… but it wasn’t out of animosity. Just in good fun.”

Big Daddy grins as he asks, “Where’d you learn all that at?”

Gearing shrugs as he sits back down on the floor. “I knew a guy that was a hard core Maulers fan. That buck was a walking fountain of trivia and would spew facts over anyone that’d listen. He put the ‘fan’ in fanatical. Never missed a home game, regardless of what was going on, and even took vacation one time so he could travel around and watch away games too.”

Big Daddy leans back and looks up at the ceiling as he blows a puff of smoke upwards. “Imagine that…”

Gearing leans towards Big Daddy sideways and grins as he says, “Imagine just letting me remove the conflict from the equation so we both come out ahead.” Big Daddy lowers his head just enough to smirk at Gearing’s segue. “You just mentioned you have a beef with the Steel Rangers. I’ve heard a lot of shit about them that makes me not exactly all smiles to be around them either. If shit blows up between you two, well, I’ve had a lot of experience with their equipment.” He holds up his PipBuck. “I can fuck up their tech pretty good if it comes to that too. And I know how to get around armor.”

Big Daddy straightens up as he asks, “You saying you’re willing to go to war against the Steel Rangers when it comes to it?”

Gearing waves a hoof at him as he narrows his eyes. “I’ve said, repeatedly, I don’t blame entire groups for the actions of a few… but if there’s some that are disgusting monsters I’ll deal with them…” They stare at each other for a few moments before Gearing says, “I don’t know enough about them yet. All I’ve heard is that they hoard tech and that they have a bad habit of taking it from others… forcefully.”

Big Daddy starts laughing as he leans towards him. “That’s sugar coating it. They’ve been known to shoot first and not bother asking questions. Any tech they find is theirs. No one else’s. They think tech is the cause of the war. They say they don’t want it to happen again, so they keep it away from everypony else. But then they call everypony else ‘tribal’ and would rather kill a pony than help them.”

“Got any specific instances of it?”

Big Daddy stares at him for a few moments before relaxing back into the seat. “Yeah… I remember Crunchy Carrots stomping and smashing a Water Talisman, instead of letting anyone else use it, for any purpose.”

“That bitch!” Gearing yells as his eyes go wide. “With how scarce clean water is? The hell?! How many fucking lives were lost because of that crazy bitch!?”

Big Daddy’s eyes go wide as he sees Gearing’s outburst, and a very pleased smile grows across his muzzle. “Oh, now that attitude I like… I like that…” He casually takes a pull from his cigar, enjoying the taste, and turn of the conversation, before he says, “That’s their whole religion… And she did that before she brought a whole mob of them up here to back her up.”

“So they really do kill civilians and scavengers, just for the tech they have?”

Big Daddy nods as he enjoys his cigar. “And that’s not limited to the Hoof. Though some chapters are more fanatical than others.”

Gearing looks at him and says softly, “Then there’s another reason not to be a Reaper… because if I see’em doing it. I’ll mail them straight to Tartarus. Care of Nightmare Moon.” Gearing grins maliciously. “And if I’m not a Reaper… it won’t be breaking the ceasefire agreement between you two.”

Big Daddy frowns lightly as he says, “That’s a bit of a dishonest workaround, isn’t it?”

Gearing waves his hoof between the two as he says, “This entire conversation has been about me not wanting and not being a Reaper… so not really.”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow. “But would you help us when the time comes?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath then lets it out in a sigh. “I’ll take out the ones that really need to be taken out, if that time comes. So in that sense, yes. If you don’t want to help now. Fine. Just let me know when shit goes down and where to find the worst of the worst and I’ll start thinning the herd.”

“I thought you said you don’t like to kill?”

“I don’t, but what the hell else am I going to do? Lock them in the brig?” Gearing retorts.

Big Daddy laughs. “Yeah. Good luck with that…”

“Right?” Gearing asks as he sighs. “Look. I’m not promising to go on a one horse stampede over the whole group. But I can do targeted strikes, and take out the hotheads that cause too much trouble. I’ll keep an ear and eye out and see what I can see, and if any of them have, or are, crossing the line I’ll deal with them.”

“I’d prefer if you’d hold off on that. Let them fuck it up.” Big Daddy grins widely. “It’ll make it all the more satisfying when ‘the savage tribals’ were the ones that kept the agreement, but stomped Ranger ass for breaking it.”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at Big Daddy, and after a moment a smile grows across his muzzle. He waves casually with a forehoof as he says, “Sure, Big Daddy. If that’s what you want, you got it. Just let me know when you want to take the kid gloves off.” He raises an eyebrow as he asks, “But is that just the local group, or all Steel Rangers? Remember, my old decrepit ass gets around…”

Big Daddy chuckles as he waves it away with a dismissive hoof. “The agreement was with Crunchy Carrots’ Rangers. Outside of the bowl, it’s no hair off my tail…”

Gearing grins. “Excellent.” Big Daddy chuckles again and Gearing follows up with, “You got a similar agreement with the Finders? I mean I ran into Roadie, one of Bottlecaps’ caravanner bucks, and he was headed here to do some trading so… How’s that all working out?”

Big Daddy chuckles as he waves his cigar around. “The Finders are a bit of a mix. You got Finders Keepers, an old lech more interested in collecting caps and flank slapping every mare he meets than doing anything else, who started the whole group. They have three branches, run by his three daughters. You have Caprice out in Flank, her specialty is serving vices… every kind of chem or drink imaginable, along with a rather busy brothel. The town is packed with junkies, but generally nothing for us to worry about. Then you got Usury, out in Paradise Mall… who you already know a bit about.” Big Daddy chuckles lightly as he sees Gearing’s eyes narrow. “Yeah. She sells ponies. There’s not much else to say.” He taps on his chin as he muses aloud, “Though she’s been growing her operation more and more and getting a bit full of herself lately because of Red Eye’s money coming in. She’s greedy enough that her head’s going to get too big for her neck and we’re going to have to buck it right off her shoulders for her at this rate. Her crew just keeps getting bigger and with all of their guns and support from Red Eye they seem to be thinking they’re invincible. Which means they’re going to do something stupid…” Big Daddy shrugs as he goes back to puffing on his cigar. “And lastly there’s Bottlecap, in Megamart… She’s got a lot of ponies working for her, and a lot of influence. Their trade caravans travel further and further each day. But she’s no serious threat, because all they are interested in is trade.” He waves his hoof around. “Not like, just making money, not like the others, she’s more interested in just moving things around constantly. Getting crap from people that don’t want it to places where people need it. She’s got a lot of ponies, guns, ammo, and equipment…” He slowly shakes his head as he smiles weakly. “But they aren’t fighters… not real fighters.” He waves his hoof around. “So we got an agreement. Bottlecap helps keep us stocked, and makes sure her traders are generous with their prices to us… And in return, anyone that causes them too many problems, we explain to them why that’s a bad idea. And if they don’t get it at first, we keep explaining it until they finally get the idea.” He leans forward as he adds, “Like this little upstart shitty ass no name gang… Most of them came here looking for riches from Manehatten or wherever… Couldn’t get rich quick enough so they started hitting caravans and shit. Mallet went and had a conversation with them. Took out one of their ambush parties and smashed the leader’s hindlegs with that hammer of hers while she explained how things work in the Hoof.” Big Daddy waves his hoof around as he shakes his head. “The others scattered. But apparently they didn’t learn their lesson, they just moved to a different area. We got a lot of other stuff going on with raiders popping up all over and causing problems. Even the Steel Ranger’s are having trouble with them. So I’m going to have to crush that little group of theirs soon since they don’t seem to learn and want to get with the program. They have like, forty ponies in their crew, and they think they’re a match for us? They think they can hijack caravans, piss us off, and we won’t do something about it?” He shakes his head and leans back in the couch as he grins. “That’s not going to stand. No siree… They aren’t worth calling for a full Stomp, obviously, I’ll just send a couple on a traveling training exercise to clean up the mess.” He grins around the cigar. “It shouldn’t take long.” He waves his hoof off towards the south as he says, “They got their warning to straighten up. They blew it. Now comes the pain.”

Gearing follows Big Daddy’s hoof, and looks in that direction. He looks back and forth before he lifts his leg and checks his PipBuck. He looks from the map display, to the direction Big Daddy had pointed as he’s double checking his bearings. He looks over at Big Daddy, who’s taken note of his sudden and strange behavior, and asks, “Out Miramare way?”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow before waving in that direction again. “A bit further than that, but that way yeah, why?”

Gearing smirks as he gets up and walks over near Big Daddy. “It… it wouldn’t happen to have been around… this area… would it?” Gearing asks as he points to an area on his PipBuck’s map.

Big Daddy looks at it, then swirls around on the map quickly to double check area landmarks, before he nods. “Yeah, actually… How’d you figure that out?”

Gearing closes out of the PipBuck and asks sheepishly, “The problems… they recent?”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow before he asks, “Well, reports been trickling in and getting worse. But they’ve been ramping up, and getting more brazen. Last attack I’ve heard about in the area was from a little over a week ago. But there’s no reason to think it’d slow down any.”

Gearing gives him a sheepish grin. “Weellll… Don’t expect to hear anything more about it… And don’t worry about sending anyone to go take care of it… not necessary.”

Big Daddy chuckles as he asks, “Oh? You planning on going there and checking them off your list yourself?”

“Kinda… already… did,” Gearing says sheepishly as he taps his forehooves together and gives Big Daddy a nervous smile.

Big Daddy sits up straight as he asks, “What!? When?!”

“Uhm… a little over a week ago…” Gearing says. “About a week…” Gearing shrugs lightly before he says, “A group a little over three dozen in strength tried to attack a convoy with foals in it… At least one of them was a murderous pedophile… So… Yeah…” Gearing gives a sheepish smile as he says, “If you heard about that pile of weapons and equipment that I sold at Megamart…” He waves in the same direction Big Daddy had. “That’s… that’s where I got it… heh…”

Big Daddy takes a slow long drag from his cigar as he eyeballs Gearing. “By yourself too, right?” Gearing nods. “All of them.” Gearing nods again. Big Daddy leans back and starts laughing loudly on the border of becoming obnoxious. “And you keep trying to tell me you’re the wrong buck for the job!” He shakes his head. “Considering I saw you at the Freight Cars’ Junction, and the distance to Megamart, that couldn’t have taken you more than an evening!” He laughs even louder, crossing into full on obnoxious territory as he says, “What? You were just passing on through, saw a whole decent sized gang, and thought to yourself ‘Eh, there’s only like forty of them, I got time.’ And then killed them all and took their shit?”

Gearing opens his mouth to retort as he points a hoof at him. But he closes it. He opens and closes it a few times as he keeps trying to say something else, but stops. After a few cycles of this, with Big Daddy cackling in his face, Gearing says, “Well… you’re not wrooong… But it just sounds so weird when you put it like that! It’s weird! You’re making it weird!”

Big Daddy slows his cackling long enough to take a puff as he’s looking at Gearing. He lets the smoke out before he asks, “The kids alright?”

Gearing nods quickly. “Oh, yeah. Notta hair so much as singed.”

“Well, that’s good,” Big Daddy says as he pulls the cigar out of his mouth and examines it while he thinks.

“So, yeah…” Gearing starts before he clears his throat unnecessarily. “Ahem… How about you guys take credit for that?” Big Daddy’s eyes jump over to him, and Gearing continues, “You have that agreement with Bottlecap and the Finders… You were just telling me you were planning on stomping them anyway… so… ta daaaa… stomp complete!” Gearing grins as he throws his forehooves out to the side and strikes a pose like that. “Mission accomplished. Obligations fulfilled.” He waves both hooves as he says, “And, hey, as for the raiders… just feed me info, and I can take care of them, no problem. I can’t get infected, so I’m the best choice. And whatever bandits that cross the line too. Then the Reapers can get credit while reminding everyone what badasses they are. So I just keep taking them out, Reapers get the credit, and then that means the Finders, along with everyone else really, will have less problems at the same time. It’s a win-win all around!” He shrugs before he says sheepishly, “Well, I mean, except for the raiders and asshole bandits that won’t straighten up… Because they’ll be dead… But their opinion don’t count anyways…”

“Reapers only take credit for what Reapers do,” Big Daddy says with a grin.

Gearing deflates a bit before he says, “Well, crap… It was a thought… Valid point though…” Gearing takes in a deep breath before he says, “Speaking of the Finders, I have a question that may be related to the conversation.”

“Oh?” Big Daddy asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Gearing looks around at the floor before he says, “Hypothetically speaking… What if one of the Finders ended up on my list for being a backstabbing fuckwit that tried to get me, Swift, and her husband Handy killed?”

Big Daddy’s eyes narrow as his face darkens a bit as he slowly draws from the cigar. He learns towards Gearing, getting right in his face as he releases the smoke and asking with a flat, but menacing tone, “What happened?”

And, hoping that he’s reading the situation right, Gearing tells Big Daddy the whole tale. Starting off with the initial disappearance and continuing on through the rescue, the clean up, the deal for information, and the subsequent nightmare that they ran into underground as a result. And quickly follows up with the trio’s thoughts and theories on it.

Although he does leave the whole fiasco surrounding Chapel out of it, as it’s not only a memory he’d rather not think about but, thankfully for him, it doesn’t actually pertain to the situation he’s talking about.

Big Daddy has been staring at him intently the entire time. Listening as he slowly smoked and paid attention to every detail. Gearing almost felt like he was being interrogated, or was giving an after action debriefing to someone that really didn’t like what they were hearing and might, just might, make him suffer for it. But when Gearing finishes, Big Daddy eases back into the couch and continues to puff as he thinks it through and looks up at the ceiling. After a bit, and Gearing giving him all the time he needs to process it, Big Daddy chuckles dryly, “That whole thing sounds like it sucked.” He chuckles a bit more. “Although I coulda told ya to stay the hell away from the Core. Anypony could. Shoulda asked a foal.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and frowns lightly. “Thanks for the insight, oh guru of the mountain. I would have never figured that out on my own.”

Big Daddy chuckles before he brings his eyes from the ceiling back down to look at Gearing. “I won’t blow smoke up your tail and say it can’t happen… Greed does shit to weak ponies. So, it’s possible. And if it did happen, that’s going to make things real complicated. So I hope you’re wrong. But, I really don’t think he did it on purpose.”

“You just saying that to avoid things getting complicated by you getting involved, or do you have reason to not think so?”

Big Daddy chuckles as he says, “Oh, don’t you worry none, I’m not trying to avoid a fight.” He leans to the side and shows off his horseshoe cutie mark. “I love a good fight. Always have. So, no. Besides, Bottlecap would be just as pissed if it’s true.” He puffs on his cigar a few times as he regards Gearing. “Lodestar’s got a reputation of being able to get from one place to another as quickly and safely as possible. That’s his special talent.” He rolls the cigar to the side of his mouth and points a hoof at Gearing. “I know for a fact that he’s hauled some pretty high end cargo, because they hired some Reapers for extra security, and not a thing went missing. Ever. He’s not a greedy buck. Every trip he splits the profits among the whole caravan. His crew is stable and he keeps the same ponies on trip after trip if he can. He knows details about them like they’re family. And he’s generous with both praise and caps. A greedy buck willing to sell out his own caravan so he doesn’t have to share ain’t like that.” Big Daddy chuckles as he waves towards the windows. “There’s been a few times that he’s asked for extra security, and the jobs so sweet that a couple Reapers have ended up getting challenged for the right to take the job.” He relaxes back into the couch as he shakes his head and says, “So I really don’t see it.”

Gearing frowns as he looks around before he ends up staring at the windows. “Got any suggestions on what I should do?”

“Well first off, if you find out for sure that he did, I want to know. He needs to be dealt with then. Beyond that?” Big Daddy shrugs. “I’d say look into it more. Talk with him. Try to figure out a way to get him to tell you one way or another what’s going down.” Big Daddy chuckles before he says, “But kindly don’t just blow the place up, please. I just got a bill from Bottlecap for the damages from the last time one of my numbskulls started a fight in there.”

“Well, gee, thanks,” Gearing replies. “I’ll make sure to limit the explosions to when I catch him outside and see if he can hit the moon from here.”

“If he did it,” Big Daddy adds with a puff of smoke for emphasis.

“Right, if he really did sell us out,” Gearing replies.

Big Daddy nods before he asks, “Got any other questions for me?”

Gearing looks at him for a few moments, and then shrugs as he asks, “Yeah, what kinda eyes did they give you?”

Big Daddy pauses puffing on his cigar as he asks, “What?”

Gearing points at Big Daddy’s sunglasses. “I thought about asking back at Megamac but didn’t wanna be rude to someone I just met, especially because of what it might mean.” He shrugs. “There’s only a couple I know of that’d cause something like that. But there’s apparently a few.” He tilts his head as he asks, “So, did the zebra give you a fetish, or curse you?”

Big Daddy uses a hoof to lower his sunglasses, and stares at Gearing. “There’s more than this? You’ve seen’em before?”

Gearing bobs his head around. “Well, yeah. I’ve gotten around a lot.” He waves a hoof dismissively. “Whether it’s helpful or not depends on what the zebra meant to do… I knew one mare that got cursed by a zebra witchdoctor. It fucked with her vision and gave her double vision. But one of them was a few seconds faster than the other. Like, see what’s about to happen kinda craziness. She slowly got used to it and started taking advantage of it. But, eventually, and like a few others, the other sight took over and it was all she could see.” He shrugs. “Was a really weird form of blindness where she could get around normally, as long as things weren’t moving around her.” He smirks as he says, “She eventually got stuck in a clerical job, because the words and files wouldn’t run away from her… as she put it.”

Big Daddy stops smoking and just stares at Gearing as he tries to figure out if Gearing’s blowing smoke up his tail.

“So, what they do? I doubt it’s night vision,” Gearing prods.

Big Daddy chuckles as he looks around. “Actually I’m not sure what the crazy bastard did to me. Threw some glowing sand in my face, and next thing I know I see shit when I focus on other ponies.” He glares at Gearing over his sunglasses, with his glowing eyes in full view. “But, it lets me see exactly who a pony really is.”

Gearing stares back at him for a few moments before a smug grin crosses his muzzle. “Oh… That’s helpful.” He sits prim and proper as he stares at Big Daddy with the smug grin turning especially pleased. “So what are your eyes telling you about me? As if I didn’t know…”

Big Daddy smirks and then starts staring at Gearing. And Gearing, to his credit, doesn’t even move. He matches stare for stare as he waits for the verdict with happy anticipation. Big Daddy’s face screws up a few times as he obviously tries to make sense of what he’s seeing. After a bit longer of this he finally exhales. “Shadows and secrets.”

Gearing’s smug grin slowly fades off as that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. “Huh?”

“You’re made of shadows held together by secrets. Secrets from others. Secrets even from yourself. You have shadows all over you. Hell, they seem like they’re pouring out between your bits. Your body’s casting shadows. Many shadows. But they’re all different. You got shadows crawling around and enveloping you. Eating up any light that tries to touch you. Stars keep trying, but the shadows keep eating them. And you’re just standing there. Basking in the dark like a lizard basks in the sun. It’s comfortable. You don’t want the shadows to go away because then you’d have to deal with the light. You hate that. It’s like you don’t think you deserve it so you avoid it. But there’s cracks all over you. I’m not talking about the gaps in your plates. Your cogs. Your plates. Your gears. They all have cracks in them. Like shattered glass. And out of those cracks there’s a dark light leaking out. Like a painted light bulb about to break. But the shadows and secrets are holding you together. Like a glue made out of pure willpower… and spite… Providing you strength. Sharpening your resolve. Giving you direction. Purpose. You’re steadfast and unwavering, like a mountain, and as long as you keep moving you won’t end up devouring yourself.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as his jaw drops. That wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting. Maybe a bit cryptic, sure. More power for the course when it comes to zebra fetishes and curses. But that wasn’t on brand as far as he would have thought what was going to be said.

Big Daddy rubs his glowing eyes before pushing his sunglasses back up. “You’re a living contradiction… Balanced chaos… Bright darkness… Dark lights…” He looks at Gearing and smiles as he asks, “What’s with that look? Not what you were expecting?”

“No… I was expecting something more like… I don’t know… something like I’m helpful and telling the truth about not wanting to compete with the Reapers…” He shrugs before he says lamely, “Something that’d help my case, I guess.”

Big Daddy grins as he says, “Oh… I can see that you meant that. You have no interest in being the center of attention. So you wouldn’t be interested in becoming competition.” Gearing’s face lights up. And Big Daddy’s smiles in return, but his eyes narrow. “I’m sure you’re telling the truth about it. And that you’ll keep to your nonaggression agreement.” He leans towards Gearing as he says, “But I also know that if something happens that you really don’t like, and we can’t come to an agreement, you’ll become a problem that we’ll have to deal with… Because we’ll be on your list otherwise.”

“I don’t have any intention-” Gearing starts but gets cut off.

“No, you don’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that you won’t abandon your principles. And while I can admire that, I don’t like not knowing when you’ll be set off,” Big Daddy says sharply.

“Easy. Keep up the competition and good sportsmanship, so those that like fighting are more busy trying to one up each other, and stay away from rape, murder, pillaging, burning, and foal fiddling,” Gearing replies quickly. “So as far as I can see, there’s nothing different from what you’re already doing. I’m not a fan of that challenge right bullshit that No Shoes used on me, you already know that, but, big picture, I can live with it. It’s not the end of the world. Not a deal breaker. Hoofington is better off with you here. So I don’t see a problem.” Gearing points a hoof at him. “But if you all suddenly decide to lose your mind, and start up a sex ring filled up with kidnapped Crusaders, then we’re going to have a fucking problem. And it won’t be me causing the problem, you’ll have lost your way at that point…” Gearing stares at him as he folds his forelegs in front of his chest before he snorts in disgust at the mere thought of it. “But, because of the agreement, I’d still warn whoever was in charge at the time before doing anything…”

Big Daddy grins widely around his cigar as he says, “Like I said, you have some pretty hard lines around your principles that you won’t back down on. I do like that…” He waves towards the window with a forehoof as he says, “We do as well… and it circles around not screwing us over or doing wrong by us.” He nods towards Gearing as he says, “You’re worried about us having a conflict, and want to remove it, right?” Gearing nods quickly, which causes Big Daddy to wave it away dismissively. “Then I don’t see a problem here. I see a solution. You just do what you said you’re gonna do, and help us out when the time’s right, and beyond that just be your own pony and do whatever you want.”

Gearing stares at him blankly for a few moments before he replies, “That sounds… reasonable. Yeah.”

A single knock on the door draws both of their attention.

Big Daddy looks at the door and back at Gearing. “If there’s nothing else, apparently there’s somepony else who needs a chat."

“Uh, no… Nope. I’m good! Thanks!” Gearing gets up with a wide smile on his face as he starts walking away. “Want me to let them in on my way out?”

Big Daddy stays on the couch puffing on his cigar and nods as he stares at Gearing walking away. As Gearing is opening the door, Big Daddy calls after him, “Have fun on your raider hunt, and let me know how that caravanners issue turns out.”

Gearing nods as he looks forward. He stares at the caramel unicorn mare on the other side of the door, respectfully standing off to the side and waiting for whoever to leave so she can enter. And then there’s that huge hammer that she has floating near her. Gearing’s sure if Handy was here, that he’d love it. But then Gearing’s tinkering mind gets to work and it takes him only a fraction of a second to realize the weight balancing needs to be adjusted for an earth pony to really get the most out of it.

The hammer wielding mare raises an eyebrow as she stares at him.

“Oh, sorry, was just thinking someone I know would like a hammer like that but I’d need to balance it so he could use it. Earth pony. Needs more weight on the back side for a better spin,” Gearing rambles as he steps out into the hallway and waves her in.

The comments actually draw an amused smile from her as she starts heading into the room. “To each their own… but let me get a look at it when it’s done. You got me curious.”

“Sure!” Gearing nods and then looks past her towards Big Daddy as the unicorn mare starts shutting the door behind herself, “Well, cya around. We gotta get back to Megamart and see which way this is gonna go.”

“Yeah, you will,” Big Daddy replies flatly. “And make sure to make time in between all your flank kicking to stop on by.” He smiles around his cigar as he says, “That way you and the others will get to know each other better.”

The little blue pegasus lifts his head wearily and asks, ‘Did we just spend an hour talking to him only for him to say ‘Yes, very sad… Anyway. Welcome to the Reapers.’?’

Gearing stares at Big Daddy in disbelief and his shoulders sag as a growing smirk on Big Daddy’s face is the last thing he sees before the door shuts between them. “…Fuck …”

* * *

The mutfruit vendor sits dejectedly with his back towards his overturned wagon as he plays with a beer bottle in front of him. One of the other ponies in the arena, who'd seen the whole thing with Gearing getting thrown through the wagon, felt bad for him and gave him the drink. The bottle’s mostly empty, and he’s trying to figure out what to do with himself now that his wagon is wrecked.

He hangs his head and moans, “The cargo I can replace… but the wagon? Ah maaaan…” He downs the rest of the beer before he looks at the empty bottle and says with a hitch in his voice, “You’re gone too, huh?”

A metallic creaking draws his attention and he slowly turns around. Then he jumps up to his hooves, and jumps away from the wagon, as the wagon gets lifted into the air, and rotated. A few of the other ponies that’d been walking by, stop and watch as the wagon is carefully laid back onto its wheels. A long impressed whistle comes from one of the bucks that had been walking by before he mutters, “I need to step up on my weight training,” before he carries on towards the front of the arena.

A moment later Gearing comes from the far side, giving the wagon a once over as he circles around it. He looks over at the vendor and gives him a sheepish smile. “I’d say bill Big Daddy for it, but I don’t know how that’d turn out.” The buck’s eyes go wide, then he shakes his head quickly. Gearing nods before he flicks a wing towards the wagon. “I can’t do anything for your merchandise, but I can get the wagon road worthy for you… if you’ll let me…”

The vendor looks at him and his eyes go wide before he narrows them suspiciously, “And what’s that gonna cost me?”

“Not holding it against me for Big Daddy throwing me through it?” Gearing asks with a sheepish smile.

The vendor’s eyes pop back open to their widest as he asks, “That’s it?”

Gearing waves his hoof around. “I mean if you really wanna do anything for me… I can always use information on raider nests, slaver trafficking, and, generally, on any no good down right rotten ponies that really need their flanks kicked.”

The buck stares at him for a few moments before saying, “Y-yeah… I can do that… no problem… Just let me know what you want to know and I’ll keep an ear out.”

Gearing grins and nods as he starts walking over to the wagon. “Sure. Just get it to Bottlecap to pass on. She’ll know where it’s supposed to go.” Gearing starts working on the one wheel, getting the wheel back seated into its rotor correctly as the wheel had almost fallen off. He uses his own hoofs to bang and tap them into the correct shape again. Then he stands up, lifts the wagon up with one hoof, and spins the wheel with his wings checking its balance. As he’s working on it, completely handling it with sheer brute strength, he starts developing a crowd around the wagon.

Both big holes in the wagon are formed from the metal giving, tearing, and curling out of the way as he passed through. On the one side, where his impact left an embossing of his body, the metal is curved outwards from the wagon like it was some kinda weird metallic flower. Without even using tools he starts uncurling the sheet metal, and flattening it out, as he starts filling in the hole he’d caused. Then he does the same thing to the other hole, but from the inside out. Those watching him work find the whole scene rather surreal as he manipulates the sheets of metal like they’re some kind of stiff cloth.

After he gets the metal sheets about as straight as they're going to get, and the massive hole has been reduced to a few irregular gaps, he flies out and starts examining the damage from the outside.

“I see you’re still among the living,” a buck's voice calls from the side.

Gearing looks over and sees Dolor looking up at him. Gearing smirks as he says, “I don’t know, maybe we’re both in hell… would explain a few things.”

Dolor lets a faint smile cross his muzzle before he asks, “You were gone a while; we were starting to wonder. What’d Big Daddy have to say?”

Gearing shrugs and starts running a hoof over the side of the wagon, feeling the imperfections and the small gaps in it that still need to be filled in. “The short of it is he told me I need to stop by more often so others know what I look like.” Gearing chuckles before he points a hoof at Dolor. “Now that I think about it, it’s the same thing your friend told me, right before Big Daddy chucked me through this wagon.”

Dolor nods as he says, “That he did. It was good advice.” He walks closer as he pulls out a long rolled up cloth. He respectfully sets it down and unfolds the cloth as he presents a barrel similar to the one Gearing currently has. Minus the bend. “I got this for you. It’s the right one for the rifle you have. If it’s not good enough, let me know and I’ll get another.”

Gearing looks at it and shakes his head. “As long as it’s intact, I can give it a cleaning and polish. Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

Dolor waves it away and starts respectfully backing away. “Nothing at all. Thanks for smoothing over that disagreement…” He waves towards the barrel. “Consider this a… welcome gift.”

Before Gearing can say anything, Soots pokes his head around the side of the wagon and looks at Gearing. A forced smile, edging into extremely nervous, crosses his muzzle as he says, “H-hey, Boss…” Gearing glances over at him and Soots flinches under the stare. “Lookin’ good! Uh… how’s things?” He looks down then holds up the fresh beer he’d just gotten. “Want a beer?”

Gearing smirks and says, “Give it to him,” and points at the vendor sitting a distance away and watching Gearing work.

Both of them seem confused by it, but Soots quickly slides over as he says, “Sure thing, Boss!” and passes the new bottle off to the vendor who appears exceedingly confused.

Gearing glances at the wagon as he mutters, “Gonna need some scrap to fill in these gaps.” And a moment later a sack of scrap metal plops down not far from him from where somepony in the crowd behind him had bucked it to him. Gearing looks at the sack, before calling out, “Hey, Soots.”

Soots snaps to attention as he asks, “Yeah, Boss?”

“You guys have any torches?”

“Uh… yeah, Boss? Why?”

“Well, your friend from earlier owes me a torch… and at least enough gas to get this thing fixed.”

Soots seems to have a localized seizure in his face as he can’t figure out how things ended up with that being the conversation and he starts wondering if he blacked out and missed something. “What?”

Gearing looks over at Soots and narrows his eyes as he asks, “It was his idea, wasn’t it?” He nods towards the wagon as he says, “He caused it so the least he can do is help me fix it. Or do I-”

He’s cut off by a cry of pain from Soots as a metallic cylinder clonks him on top of the head, hits the ground, and rolls close to Gearing.

A voice from somewhere in the crowd yells out, while still trying to remain hidden, “I’m sorry!”

Soots holds his head and looks around as he asks, “Who the hell?! Why the hell?!” He looks at the thing that hit him and holds his head with one hoof and shakes his other hoof in the general direction as he yells, “You don’t throw a fuckn’ torch, you asshole, I don’t care how scared you are!” He looks at his hoof then scowls as he says, “Great, just great! Now I’m fucking bleeding! And you just had to hit the good side of my head too, didn’t you? Like my face ain’t scarred up enough already!”

Notably, he doesn’t get a ‘sorry’ in response.

Soots turns to look at Gearing, and sees he’s staring right at him, so he asks with a grumble, “How’d you know? Big Daddy tell you?”

Gearing grins at him and points at his ear. “I have excellent hearing… I heard him ask you not to tell anyone.”

Soots holds his head and frowns as he asks, “Yet I’m the one that gets bonked in the head?”

Gearing looks over at him and grins as he asks, “Well, why not bonk him back… but be sure the helmet’s off to make it fair though.” Then he picks up the torch, and scrap metal, and gets to work fixing the wagon.

Soots grins and hops up to his hooves as he says, “I think I just will!” He turns around and starts trotting towards the crowd. “Hey, come’r; the Reaper told me to kick your ass for’em!” There’s a ‘eep’ from the crowd before a pony in a Hoofington Fire Department suit goes running away with Soots in hot pursuit. “Get back here, you lil shit! I’m gonna put the blood in blood brothers!”

After they’ve gone, Gearing looks over at Dolor and says, “I still think that buck needs to relax and work on his stress…”

The comment draws a couple chuckles from a few of the gawkers as Gearing gets to work on filling in the gaps. It doesn’t take long before Gearing finishes welding up the holes he caused. They aren’t pretty welds. They aren’t finished in the sense of being ground out to flush or polished. But they’re functional. As soon as he’s done, he grabs the bundled up barrel that Dolor gifted to him and takes flight while the welds are still hot. He swings by the camp where he first saw Soots, and air drops the torch off to the side before spinning around and going to find Swift. He’s in a hurry to leave and eager to get things sorted out. And he can’t do that until he gets to Megamart and can start questioning Lodestar.

* * *

“…So, yeah, I spent all that time trying to convince him I’m a bad fit and don’t want in anyway, only for him to basically ignore the whole conversation and send me on my way,” Gearing comments as he keeps looking out around their surroundings and half expecting some pony to jump out and challenge them since they’d left the arena. Especially with the stares he got from the mare and buck when they gave him back his stuff at the weapons check in. As it was they ended up burning the whole morning between Handy getting treated and Gearing dealing with Big Daddy and all that caused. “Like, I’m not sure if he just decided I’m in no matter what… Accepted the deal I offered… Or just wants to talk about it later because we got interrupted.”

Swift snickers before she replies, “Could be all of the above… but I’m going to wager the first… They don’t want someone better than one of their own getting away.”

“Awwww my aching head,” Handy groans as the group trots down the roadway towards Megamart.

Swift looks over at Handy and frowns as she says, “Hey, it won’t last much longer. Doc Psycho did what she could. Gotta let the rest of it work its way through your system… and, hey, at least you can walk now.”

“Doc Psycho? Was her name really Psycho?” Gearing asks as he takes a break from being paranoid of their surroundings to look at Swift.

“Noooo that wasn’t her actual name, but it should be,” Swift says with a laugh. She points a wing back towards the arena as she says, “That bitch was wearing ponyhide for a fashion statement… All of it had some kinda medical theme. I don’t care what anyone says, that’s some psycho shit to be doing.” She scrunches up her nose. “Fucking disgusting…”

“Well, what’d he say to you? It looked like you two didn’t even talk all that long?” Gearing asks.

Swift shrugs as she says, “Not much really… Asked if I was planning on sticking around. I told him we had some shit to do but I’d be stopping in to spar whenever I can. Made sure I was going to. I said maybe see about a few rounds in the ring too. He basically asked if I thought I could control you, I laughed in his face…” She grins at Gearing. “I told him if he wanted to talk to the one that holds your leash, that she’s currently at home with the foals.” She snickers a bit as Gearing rolls his eyes. “He asked how much I trusted you. I said you’d taken a point blank shotgun blast to the gut to save my life when you were already half dead.” She flutters a bit. “Talked a bit about the Lodestar situation too. But that was more him telling me to let’em know what we find out than anything.”

“I still say, kill the bastard,” Handy grumbles before he pulls out a cloth, blows his nose, and chucks it, and the filth contained within it, over a guardrail and into some mostly dead scraggly brush.

“I understand how you feel, Handy, believe me,” Gearing replies as he goes back to keeping an eye on their surroundings. “But the whole situation is one big cluster fuck and we need to do this smart.”

Handy looks over at Gearing and scowls. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on just letting him skate on by after what he tried to do?”

Swift shakes her head as she says, “Not happening.” She starts chuckling as she’s throwing out random forehoof strikes in front of her. “I vote for snatching his ass right out of there and stringing him up from that collapsed bridge over there.” She nods in its direction. “Not from his neck, ooooh no. Truss him up good and proper and just beat him.” She practically prances as she says, “My own personal piñata!”

Gearing trots up faster to get next to Handy as he says quickly, “I’m not talking about letting him go scot-free if he did.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Handy grumbles.

Gearing looks around then gets closer as he lowers his voice. “Look. Bare minimum, we need to get the shit for the stable.”

“So you’re going to let him get away with it if he coughs the stuff up anyway?” Handy asks as he narrows his eyes.

“I’m saying if we just rip his head off, we’ll never get the supplies,” Gearing retorts. “But after we get the shit, and if we find out he was fucking with us the whole time, then we can come up with something to deal with him properly.”

“Like what?” Swift asks as she looks over.

Gearing lets out a disgruntled sigh before he says, “First we need to make sure which way this has gone. If he’s really fucked us, we need to make sure we’re not screwing our chances of getting help from the Finders.” He looks at Handy as he says, “Big Daddy was not only pissed when I told him what happened, but he’s pretty sure Bottlecap would be too. I could see it in his eyes. So if Lodestar did screw us, and we can prove it, Bottlecap shouldn’t have a problem with us dealing with the problem. Hell, she might even pay us, or do it themselves.” Gearing shrugs. “But if we just go in there and jump him, we’re going to have one hell of a time and no one is going to want to help us get the shit we need anymore.” He flutters his wings in irritation. “Face it, we need the Finders…”

“So what are you thinking we should do, Gearing?” Swift asks as she starts fluttering overhead to be close to the conversation and not have to be as loud.

“Talk to him. See what’s up. See if there’s any other possibility for what’s happened. Look into it with others. See if anyone else has had an unfortunate ‘accident’ that benefited him in the past. And if not, we chalk it up to bad luck, get our shit, and leave it at that.” Handy instantly looks appalled at what he’s saying so Gearing cuts him off before he can say anything. “Hey, I’m the one that got ripped apart and nearly died, remember? I know my luck too, so that’s not entirely off the table. If he honors the deal, without any tricks or other nonsense, we can just get our shit and go.”

Handy snorts and starts grumbling about how he can’t believe how forgiving and naive Gearing’s being.

“What if it wasn’t an accident, though?” Swift asks. “What if he really was trying to screw us and has no intention of giving us the info? Or, worse, the info he gives us is a crock of shit and we won’t get what we need?”

Gearing looks between them then lets out a sigh. “Okay. That’s fair…” He takes a deep breath. “How about this…” After he’s sure he has both of their attention he says, “We look into him, and pay attention to everything. Even for stuff like if he’s actually surprised to see us when we get back. And, if after everything, we find out that he really is a crooked sonovabitch that tried to kill us, and even if we get what we’re supposed to, we don’t let him know we’re onto him. We play the same game. Act all smiles and cupcakes. And then later… after we know he’s dirty… We wait until he thinks he’s in the clear and got away with it…” He looks between them before he narrows his eyes. “And then we snatch his ass when he goes out somewhere. He’s not going to stay inside forever, and if we don’t give him reason to be concerned he won’t think twice about heading somewhere. And that’s when we got’em.”

“And then what?” Handy asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Swift giggles and gives him a malicious grin. “Then we kick the tar out of him!”

“Question him at minimal,” Gearing confirms. “And depending on how all of that goes, take care of his ass however seems best.”

“Like what?” Handy asks with a slight smirk and more than a little morbid curiosity.

“I don’t know… break his legs and use him as raider bait… Maybe just drop him from altitude and feed some roaches,” Gearing replies flatly and seemingly only half interested in that particular topic at the moment.

Swift scrunches her nose. “Damn, feeding him to raiders, that’s kinda messed up… I bet he’d rather I bashed his head in…”

Handy shivers with his whole body and actually recoils from Gearing. He looks between him and Swift as he says, “I swear you fliers just love to fucking tease those of us without wings… That sounds terrifying as hell.”

Gearing looks at him and smiles, which the warm nature of it just seems so much more creepy given the context. “That’s the point, Handy… Either way he’d die screaming for his horrible shit.”

Swift folds her forelegs across her chest as she says, “Sounds fair, given what he’s done.”

Handy shivers. “Yeah, fine, okay… just- just leave me out of it and out of ear shot if you decide to drop him from the moon or something… I don’t need that kinda nightmare fucking with me for the rest of my life...”

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head. “Okay, so we’re agreed then?” They both nod. “Great, so we have a plan regardless of how things go. We’ll deal with it based on what we find out. Just try to keep it in mind that he very well might be innocent. Let’s hear the guy out and see what he says. Give the buck a chance, you know? So let’s not let bias cloud our judgment. Follow the information and evidence.” He looks between them and smiles. “We’ll do this smart. We’ll let him say his peace. And we’ll look into it. And after we have all of the information, then we’ll decide what to do.” He looks them over again as he asks, “If he’s dirty, there’ll be plenty of time later to deal with him. Sound good?” He gets nods of agreement again, although Handy’s is obviously only begrudgingly so.

“Excellent! Just keep that in mind. Because getting pissed off and picking a fight in the middle of Megamart is not going to help our cause.”

Footnote:

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2: On Stand By Awaiting User’s Input . . .

Please Stand By. . .

Quest Perk: Local Legend II - “Guess who I just saw!” Your various deeds have become the topic of conversation around campfires, bars, and back room meetings in equal measure. Your reputation is outpacing you. Even those in positions of power are starting to take notice of you. Those with a positive outlook of your exploits will be more likely to provide even more favorable rates in trade and divulge information you request or they think may help you. How generous they will be is proportional to the reputation you have with them. Some may even seek you out with special offers or to volunteer information valuable to you. Note: Expect the exact opposite from those you’ve annoyed with your meddling. Some may even try to seek you out to remove a thorn from their side. It’s the price of fame.

79 Unnecessary Roughness!

Gearing’s not exactly sure how things have turned out the way that they have. Nor how they escalated so rapidly. And he certainly hadn’t walked into Megamart today expecting to end up surrounded by armed security personnel, all of whom have their weapons trained on him. He’d expected, and intended, on having a long conversation with Lodestar where he’d find out just what Lodestar had in mind and why things went the way they did in the tunnels. At least, from Lodestar’s perspective. He had hoped that he’d have learned that Lodestar was just as shocked as they were about everything that happened to them. That he was super apologetic about the whole thing and that he eagerly was ready to complete their transaction as proof of it. And then, they could all commiserate over how bad the place was, maybe some awkward laughs with morbidly dark humor, and they’d all go about their own business. With Gearing, Swift, and Handy heading off wherever Lodestar would point them to so they could finally pick up the supplies they need, and, ultimately, head back home to Stable 68. And Lodestar, of course, could return to his life of trading and make his small fortune off of the data Gearing would provide. That would have been the best case scenario. That’s what Gearing wanted to happen.

That is not what happened.

According to the plan, in the worst case scenario, and if Lodestar had revealed himself to be a slimy dirtball, someone that Gearing could find no redemption in, Gearing was intending on making the others leave, and then he would stick around shopping for information with Bottlecap. And then, later, at some other time, shooting the lying stinking reprobate right between his eyes the next time he stepped out of Megamart. Letting him die in the dirt like so many had before. Or, if things would have allowed, snatched him for a long intimate conversation. With Swift’s hooves doing the questioning on the trio’s behalf. But somewhere where they could find out exactly who put him up to trying to kill them and why. But, either way, it would have been done in such a way that his relationship with The Finders, and everyone else, wouldn’t have been tarnished. Because ponies dying in the wasteland is a common enough occurrence, and he’d make sure they’d have a good enough alibi for when he met his end. Gearing had spent the whole trip here soothing Swift and Handy’s ego and righteous rage, with promises of eventual justice. That was the plan for the worst case scenario when they were walking into Megamart today. Clean and cut.

That also did not happen.

And, if you would be able to get an answer out of Gearing at the moment, even he wouldn’t be able to tell you what went wrong or how he ended up in this position. After all, it’s not every day that he finds himself standing upright on his hindhooves while holding a stallion up by their neck, using his own brassy forehooves like a noose, and screaming at the hapless buck while those around them have a hard time trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. This is a really strange turn of events and pretty much everyone is left trying to ask themselves the exact same question: ‘What the fuck JUST happened?!’

And most concerningly, if anyone else were to know that is, even Gearing is mystified and asking himself that same question as things are a bit fuzzy for him at the moment. And the little pegasus in his head is no help as he’s still too weak to say or do much, let alone think or offer thoughtful advice.

He’d planned and planned and planned for what he was going to say and how he was going to react in order to get the information he needed to make the decisions he’d needed to make. On the way here he played many scenarios in his head, and practiced what he’d say in response. He had it all scripted. And it worked. At first. He was calm. Collected. The picture of hospitality. But then Lodestar had said something about not expecting them back so soon. There were some jokes about the danger that they’d dealt with. Gearing’s pretty sure there was mention of the place being a death trap. But then Lodestar made a comment about not giving up the location they needed until after Gearing gives him all of the data first. And that was just one callous comment too many.

Apparently that was the last straw for some part of him.

Because somewhere around that statement Gearing stepped forward, wrapped his hooves around the stallion’s neck, and stood up with him. In a flash and before anyone really had time to process let alone react, Gearing ended up dragging Lodestar over the pile of goods he was standing behind and holding him there, up in the air, but with just enough pressure to hold him aloft without strangling him or breaking his neck. But, nonetheless, stringing the trader up in the air by his very skull in the process.

And all hell broke loose around them as the word spread for security as Megamart is supposed to be neutral territory.

A growing number of fully geared security show up, aiming their battle saddles at Gearing with their variety of weapons, and several of them seem shocked at what they discover. But, regardless, the turn of events seems rather obvious as he’s quite blatantly standing in the middle of the aisle strangling Lodestar in broad daylight. So the growing number of security scream out commands to drop Lodestar, to stop fighting, and various threats about shooting if he doesn’t comply.

Yet Gearing doesn’t seem to care, and, in fact, can’t entirely hear them at the moment as he’s focused his entire being on Lodestar. Gearing’s ears don’t twitch nor rotate to hear what’s going on around him, instead they are both trained forward on Lodestar as he continues to snarl out allegations at the helpless buck.

And the dark fumes emanating from Gearing’s nose and mouth give others reason to run as they wonder if he’s about to blow right then and there. Especially as the fumes come out in spurts as he’s yelling at Lodestar with a gruff voice that borders on draconic.

“Who the fuck put you up to it?! Was it Usury? Red Beard?! Tell me!”

“N-no one! I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lodestar screams as he uses his forehooves to hold onto Gearing’s forelegs and tries to provide himself some relief from the pain caused by his entire body weight being supported by nothing but his skull. He’d tried to pull Gearing’s hooves away from himself, as any reasonable pony would, when he was first yanked up off the ground. But it took a fraction of a second for him to realize the strength difference of fighting living metal and he has instead started trying to mitigate the damage while he pleads his case.

“Don’t give me that fucking shit! You sent us into a gods’ damned death trap!” Gearing roars as a plume of smoke comes out of his muzzle to match.

“I swear it wasn’t that dangerous when I was there last! It wasn’t! I didn’t even see any turrets around it!” Lodestar yells as he tries his best to take over the job of holding his weight up, instead of his skull doing it. Because he can feel the muscles stretch and bones hyper extend and he keeps imagining being held there as his own body weight makes his head come off regardless of what the practical brass dragon holding him up has in mind.

“I’m not just talking about the damned robots and security turrets!” Gearing growls.

Handy sits off to the side and blows his nose as he’s having a hard time breathing and wants enough air, but keeps nodding along with Gearing mindlessly anyway. And when he gets the chance he chimes in, “It was a fucking setup!” He looks around at the security around them and his eyes go wide as he finally notices the guns pointed at them. “Someone was waiting for us and tried to kill us!”

Lodestar’s eyes go wide as he struggles to turn to look at them. “No!”

“Yes!” Gearing roars as he doesn’t take his eyes off of Lodestar’s face. “Whoever the fuck you’re working with waited until we’d split up and got comfortable while we waited on the download. And that’s when they redirected the flood control system to flood the entire section.” Gearing shakes Lodestar with a quick jerk of his forelegs as he screams, “They were watching us the whole fucking time!”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that! I didn’t know!” Lodestar yells as he looks up at the ceiling at Gun and hopes that shooting doesn’t break out anytime soon.

“The hell you don’t know anything!” Handy screams with a cough as he waves his hoof at Lodestar. “You’ve been sketchy as hell since we rescued you, and it’s really got me thinking. Especially all of this. You’ve wanted to keep that location to yourself and gave us that sob story about how you got ambushed. Well I have another idea on how and why things turned out!” He looks over at Happy Trails and scowls as he talks directly at her, “He’s supposedly so great at finding the best route to go places, huh? Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that the guide marched the whole convoy into an ambush? And then just so happened to be the last one alive from all of that?” He looks over at Lodestar as he snarls. “Is that what really happened?! Did you feed your own friends to those damned raiders to line your own pockets?!”

Poor Happy Trails flops her rear onto the ground as she looks back and forth between all of them as she tries to figure out what’s going on. Things had happened so suddenly and the allegations pouring out of them are not only horrendous but hard to follow along with. She’s known Lodestar for a long time. This doesn’t seem like him to her. But she can’t think of a single reason that not only would they be lying about it, but seem to be burning with anger. Almost literally in the case of the brass buck doing the spot on impression of a coal engine smoke stack.

Lodestar stops struggling and chokes as he groans, “N-no… nooo I wouldn’t do that to them!”

Swift sits off to the side, leaning against a shelf display, absentmindedly nitpicking tiny pieces of dirt and debris from her powerhoof as she says, “Hell of a coincidence then…”

Handy nods as he waves a snotty rag at Lodestar. “We get you out of that, getting pulverized in the process, and even after all of that you said you just couldn’t hand it over, despite what most others would probably do, because of your crew’s sacrifice. And, you know what, that almost sounded fair. But then you sent us to an area with homicidal system admins, murder bot factories, ghoul farms, floods on demand, and the strongest fucking enervation field anyone’s even heard of?!” Handy coughs into the rag before flicking it away and pulling out another one to wipe his nose with. “And you didn’t think to tell us about any of that before sending us into it to get the data?” He blows his nose as he glares at Lodestar over the red fabric. He wipes the end of his muzzle before he says, “Just how fucking dumb do you think we are?” He shakes his head and waves a hoof dismissively at Lodestar. “There’s no fucking way you didn’t know at least some of that, and since you didn’t say anything about it… that makes anything else you have to say pretty damn suspect…”

While they are still berating Lodestar, the green, brown, and gray mottled head of security walks up with another pair of guards from behind Swift and aims her rifles at Gearing. “You?! Why the hell are you in here causing problems?!” She shakes her head and scowls as she says, “Alright, you know the rules, no fighting! This is a place of business and if you’re going to be trying any of that you can stay out!”

Gearing doesn’t even look at her as he’s glaring at Lodestar and they can’t tell if he’s simply frozen in place or thinking.

“H-Hey! Did you hear me?! The hell is wrong with you?!” Keystone asks as her presence isn’t even acknowledged.

Swift finds a tiny piece of a rock in a crevice in her power hoof and slowly starts working it out with her other hoof as she stares at it and comments, “Yeah, I don’t really think he can hear you right now…”

Keystone looks at her and asks, “What the hell’s going on!? He’s always been good about keeping trouble outside of the store. Annoying threats to jackasses that deserve it are bad enough, but just attacking merchants outright?”

Swift flicks the rock off then looks at her and shrugs comically as she giggles. “Honestly I don’t know either. All I can tell you, and with all sincerity, was that this was not part of the plan. He was pissed at Lodestar, but he’d spent the whole trip here from the arena getting us to calm down and hear Lodestar out. He wanted us to give Lodestar a chance. But something set him off, I’ve never seen him like this either.” She looks over at Gearing and grins. “Kinda proud of the buck…”

Keystone looks back and forth again before she tilts her head and practically pleads, “Can you please get off your ass and get him to go cool off somewhere?” She glances at Gearing and sighs as she says, “After everything he’s done I really don’t want to shoot him but I will if he doesn’t straighten up.” She looks over at Swift, and Keystone narrows her eyes as she says, “The rules apply to everyone, even those that are helpful. Otherwise this place would just fall apart.”

Swift’s muzzle splits into a wide grin as she asks with a giggle, “You want me to get him to calm down?!”

“You’re friends aren’t you?”

Swift throws her head back and laughs manically before she leans onto the vendor counter next to her and holds her belly. “That’s fucking rich!” She props her head up on her powerhoof and waves her other forehoof at Gearing nonchalantly. “I have never seen him like this. I’m as confused as you are. But what I do know is that because of Lodestar we’ve gone through hell, and Gearing nearly fucking died on us.” She shakes her head. “You really don’t understand the situation.”

“Enlighten me,” Keystone asks as her eyes narrow at Swift.

Swift points her hoof at Gearing and stares at Keystone as she says with a grin, “He’s the cold, calculating, calm one!” She throws her head back and laughs before she points her hoof at Handy, “My husband’s a confrontational ass suspicious of everypony, and right now he’s miserable and sick and just hates the world. And I’m always looking for an excuse to get in some exercise. I don’t even need a reason to fight; fighting is a reason all on its own! Gearing was the one trying to keep us calm, and now he’s completely flipped his bit over here! And it happened so quickly I don’t even know when or how. Frankly I’m impressed!” Her head bounces around as she hoots and laughs at the thought. “And then there’s the other problem.”

Keystone looks back and forth before she practically growls as she knows she’s likely going to have to do something soon, “And what’s that?”

Swift sits down as prim and proper as she can as she stares at Keystone and says matter-of-factly, “Because I can’t make Gearing do shit. You expect me to go over there and pry his hooves off that buck’s neck? Not going to happen. Not unless he lets me. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s far stronger than I am.” She shrugs. “Unless you want me to clock him upside the head with my powerhoof. But… two problems with that too.” She lifts it up and looks at it before she looks at Keystone. “One, I’ve already done that before and he just looked at me and asked ‘Are you finished?’ like I’d slapped him or something. I gave him a bit of a headache at best… And two… if I did, or actually attacked him to stop him…” She looks over at Gearing and frowns as she says, “I really don’t know how he’d react, but somepony’d likely get hurt in retaliation if he feels like he has to defend himself in this state. And it might turn into a real fight. He’s not thinking straight.”

Keystone kicks her battle saddle to change out the ammunition as she groans. “I gotta do something, or somepony’s going to get seriously hurt.”

“Don’t!” Swift snaps.

Keystone waves a hoof at Gearing as she looks at Swift. “I can’t just let him kill that buck!”

Swift shakes her head as she hops up and points at Gearing. “Use your damn eyes! He hasn’t actually hurt Lodestar! Trust me: if he was going to kill Lodestar right here he could have easily already done it. If he can pop a buck’s head like a zit just by stepping on it, that buck’s head is only still intact because he hasn’t made up his mind on killing him. But if anypony attacks him -me, you, anypony else- that might change.” She looks over at Gearing and frowns as she adds, “Words are your best weapons right now. Use those instead of bullets…”

“The hell it wasn’t ‘that bad’!” Gearing roars out and draws everyone’s attention back to the fact that Gearing has pulled the buck’s head closer to him and is staring at him eye to eye.

Fumes continue to spill out from his nose and mouth as he talks while snarling and growling, “Well I’ll tell you what I know for a fact! The flood was just the fucking beginning! They didn’t just have a lot of maintenance bots, they had front line assault drones the EDF used to help secure forward bases! And lots of them! There were ghouls throwing balefire balls that’d melt and destroy entire rooms at once. And the enervation field was so widespread I couldn’t heal on my own. At all! And as bad as that was, that’s to say nothing of the one enervation field I stumbled into!” He shakes Lodestar as he rages, “The field was so strong it was ripping me, me, apart! Every single other creature that went into it with me liquefied while they were still walking! You hear me?! Their fucking flesh melted right off their bones, and their bones were falling out of their bodies while they were still alive! The only reason Swift and Handy made it out alive is because they made it to the surface before the water got them and we got separated! That’s it! I barely made it out as it is but if they stepped hoof in that they’d be dead too!” His eyes go wide as he lets out a long slow plume of smoke. “So tell me how the fuck there was all of that, and you didn’t know anything?!”

Several others around stand agape at the vivid descriptions of what Gearing is ranting about. One buck with a particularly vivid imagination, and weaker constitution, turns and starts vomiting into a trash can as he mentally pictures the scene. A few others that had been rather upset about what was taking place, suddenly aren’t so angry about the fact and start murmuring their own thoughts about the situation. Notably no one is trying to urge security to intervene anymore, not even to get business back to normal.

Lodestar shakes as he actually starts crying and thinking about everything. “I’m- I’m sorry… Had I known I’d never sent you; please believe me!”

“And yet you still won’t give me what we were promised?! What you promised?! Why the fuck should I believe you?!” He yanks Lodestar’s head closer and presses his forehead into Lodestar’s as he looks Lodestar in the eye from only inches away. “You better fucking have it or I’m going to pop your lid off like a Sparkle Cola cap!”

Swift groans, “Oohhh boy…”

“I do! I have it!” Lodestar yelps as the tears stream down his cheeks. “I’ll give it to you as soon as you give me-URK!” Lodestar quickly replies before getting cut off as Gearing actually does choke him for a split second to shut him up before he digs himself any further.

“Oh no… we’re not playing that bullshit!” Gearing snarls as he lets out several growing plumes of fumes from his muzzle and Lodestar starts coughing and gagging in it.

Keystone looks over at the other security members and nods towards their weapons before she says quietly, “Ditch crowd control rounds.” She starts motioning to the other security personnel and they all quickly follow suit as she quickly passes word to open fire, at once, on her signal.

Members of the crowd that either see what’s going on, or are within earshot of the messages being quietly passed around in a circle, quickly turn and hurry off. Others, seeing the turn of events, quickly bolt away as well.

But everyone stops and looks up as Gearing roars out, “Bottlecap! I know you’re here!”

Bottlecap speaks up from behind the security personnel as she continues to wave others to get away from the incident, “I’m over here, and I can’t have you doing this in Megamart.”

Gearing keeps staring at Lodestar as he asks, “You mind playing intermediary?”

Bottlecap frowns before she leans around and looks at him as she asks, “Hostage exchange?”

“Business transaction,” Gearing says flatly. Then adds a moment later, “I don’t fucking trust this buck as far as I can throw him.”

Swift, off to the side, looks at Keystone and grins as she waves at Gearing and interjects quickly, “Which that’s actually a lot farther than you’d think otherwise for most ponies… really…”

“And he won’t cough up the location until he gets the data I have,” Gearing continues.

“What do you have in mind?” Bottlecap asks as she raises an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re apparently at an impasse… and I’m sure you’re eager to get back to normal operations and back to business… so how about you play intermediary for us. He gives you the location we need. You can confirm I have the data, and I’ll give you all of it, and you give him half of it now, and then the other half when we confirm he isn’t lying about that too.”

“That wasn’t the deal!’ Lodestar chokes as he struggles against Gearing’s hold as Gearing re-extends his forelegs and holds him up again.

“Fuck you!” Gearing roars in response. “The agreement was just to get whatever I could find in that computer! There is no set amount! I could give you one fucking stupid ass TPS report and it’d still count!” He looks over at Bottlecap as he says, “But I can confirm that there are at least a couple schematics mixed in with the data dump I got. So it does have some value it just needs to be sifted through more.”

“This wasn’t part of the deal either,” Lodestar groans.

“And neither was ninety percent of what I fucking dealt with!” Gearing yells at him as he finally drops him to the ground. Gearing looks over at Bottlecap as he points at Lodestar and says, “Charge that asshole whatever you want for the hassle. He’s the one being a stubborn ass and suspect as hell.”

Bottlecap’s eyes go wide as she asks, “So… we’re done here?”

Gearing nods as he says, “Well, I’ll trust you. Not him… So if you agree, that’ll help us both out, but if not we’ll have to figure something else out. But I’ve caused enough of a commotion in here.” He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath as he grumbles, “Sorry.”

The security detail around them quickly looks back and forth between all of them, looking for some kind of signal on what they should do. Even Keystone seems like she’s on hold. But there’s just a bit of hope, from all concerned, that this hair trigger volatile situation won’t progress anymore.

“And if I refuse?” Bottlecap asks flatly as she arcs an eyebrow.

Gearing shakes his head as he says, “I won’t hold it against you. This is a rough situation and I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to get involved. But either way I’m done with him for now.”

Handy looks over at him and balks before he asks, “Really? Just like that? And what happens when he reneges on his responsibilities again?!”

Gearing looks down at Lodestar, who’s sitting on the floor dejectedly and holding his throat and neck as he tries to focus on his breathing. “Then I’m going to rip his fucking head off and hoofball hurl it straight to the arena to use as a new ball…” Gearing growls as fumes billow out around the edge of his mouth but in a calm flat tone that makes it so much eerier than it would have been otherwise. Causing Lodestar to recoil and stare up at the brass monster looming over him.

Swift hops up and down a few times as she grins and asks, “Oh?! We going back to the arena? Gonna challenge the other Reapers to a skirmish match? Or you just going to try and make a goal from here like a trick shot? You going to get all fancy with an off-the-billboard-through-the-window-nothing-but-hoop kind of thing, or just straight through the hoop with his head?” The others around them look at her absolutely appalled as she describes playing with a pony’s decapitated head. She looks at a few, then sees the questioning look from Keystone before she waves a hoof nonchalantly, “Hey, don’t look at me like that, I’m pretty sure he’d have a decent chance of pulling it off! And these are the important questions in life… ‘Are we playing ball or not?’”

“I thought we agreed to no killing, or fighting, in Megamart?” Bottlecap asks as she puts a hoof over her eyes.

“That’s only if he is the lying bastard we think he is… But It won’t be here… he’s gotta leave sometime,” Gearing says reasonably. Or, tries to, but the fumes still spilling out of his mouth and nostrils doesn’t help the appearance.

“And I know I asked you to stop threatening those inside of Megamart,” Bottlecap says as she lowers her hoof just enough to glare out at Gearing.

“I’m just stating the terms of the deal…” He looks down at Lodestar and points over to Bottlecap as he says, “If she agrees, I’ll give her the data. After that you have a day, twenty four hours max, to give her the location in exchange for half of it with the understanding you’ll get the other half once your information is verified.” He leans over Lodestar and points at him with a hoof as he growls, “And you have zero excuses for disagreeing… If I don’t have the location within a day, I’ll know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you really did try to get us killed. And after that?” He waves around over their head to the ceiling as he adds, “Megamart will become your personal prison because if you ever step outside I won’t hesitate to remove your shit stain existence from Equestria once and for all.”

Bottlecap lets out a huff as she says indignantly, “You know I still haven’t agreed to this, right?”

Gearing shrugs as he says. “Doesn’t matter. He still has twenty four hours to cough up the location he agreed to give us. If you won’t do it, he has to find some other way. But, he’s got a day.”

Bottlecap clicks her tongue a few times before she asks, “Well if you’re done scaring away customers, can we talk? In private? Maybe go over something that’ll help you put that aggression to good use while you cool off?”

“Sure,” Gearing says with a grin. A grin which looks weird as a light fume still spills around his teeth and out of his nose as he looks at her. He looks around at the group of security around him and asks, “So are we done or are you going to start trying to use me as target practice with those live rounds?”

Keystone’s eyes go wide as she stares at him, and then she starts motioning for the others to stand down as she nods.

Swift leans towards Keystone as she keeps looking at her powerhoof for anything else to clean off from simply walking on it. “His hearing’s actually gotten even better since he got healed up… as scary as that sounds…”

The security detail starts dispersing as Gearing dutifully walks towards Botltecap. But Keystone grabs Swift and asks with a hiss, “What the hell happened? Really?”

Swift looks her in the eye and the smile falls off her face as her ears lay back. “Exactly what Gearing said. He’d held the doors against the flood so me and Handy could get away, but got trapped down there by himself. He spent most of the night trying to escape a living hell. When he finally got out he was literally falling apart in front of our eyes… So, yeah, he’s a little pissed off right now.”

Happy Trails walks over and kneels down next to Lodestar as she asks softly, “Are you okay?”

Lodestar looks at her and sniffles as he says, “I don’t know what happened.”

Happy Trails shakes her head as she says, “I didn’t see that coming either.”

“No. I mean, I’d been there before! There were a few maintenance bots here and there, most of them were on standby. There were turrets around but they weren’t around the terminals and were easily avoidable.” He shakes his head and looks down at his hooves. “I… didn’t do this…” He looks up at her and says with a choke, “Please, believe me… you know me… I didn’t intend for this to happen… none of it… Not getting caught… Not everyone getting killed…” He waves a hoof towards Gearing as he’s walking away with Bottlecap and says, “And not for them to nearly get killed just running an errand… This doesn’t make any sense… Where’d I go so wrong?”

Happy Trails wraps a foreleg around him and pulls him into a bit of a hug as she rests her chin on the top of his head. “I don’t know, Lodestar, but if you want to clear yourself you need to make good on this promise…” She leans her head down and whispers in his ear, “Because I can tell from the way a few are looking, they are half-way wishing he’d just went ahead and killed you.”

Lodestar chokes and covers his face as he quietly sobs. “They probably blame me for the caravan… and… I don’t blame them…”

She nuzzles him softly and asks with a groan, “Why didn’t you just give it to him? Why were you so stubborn about it?”

Lodestar shakes his head. “It’s all I got. It’s all that’s left of them… And once he has it, that’s it, I’ll have no leverage and it’ll be out.” He waves a hoof weakly as he says, “They’re probably going to strip the joint… so I had to get something.”

“You gonna give it to Bottlecap?” Happy Trails asks as she raises an eyebrow.

Lodestar nods quickly, but then shrugs. “If she’ll take it. If not I’ll find someone else he trusts…” He throws his hooves up in the air and says with a choked laugh, “I’ll just ask him who else he trusts if she won't… I hope she will though…”

Happy Trails smirks as she gives him one last nuzzle before she starts to pick up the mess that was made from Lodestar getting grabbed and pulled up and over their display counter. “You’re gonna owe Bottlecap a lot for this one. Better start thinking how you’re going to pay her off next.”

Lodestar stands up as he wipes the tears from his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll have some ideas herself… I’ll just wait until she brings it up… Stay out of trouble that way in case she declines… I don’t want to pester her.”

* * *

After Bottlecap gets Gearing away from the scene she asks, “Mind filling me in on exactly what that was about?”

Gearing shakes his head. “I’m sorry Bottlecap, I don’t know what got into me. I didn’t come in here expecting to start a fight… I came in here expecting to find out if I was going to have a fight on my hooves later, and figure out what to do from there.”

“Well, that’s concerning,” Bottlecap says as she looks sideways at Gearing and watches him casually walk along next to her and pays careful attention to how the fumes from his muzzle do indeed seem to be dissipating. “Do you really think he was trying to kill all of you instead of dealing with you?”

Gearing lets out a groan, which is notably fume free, before he says with a sigh, “I admit, it doesn’t make business sense. Unless he thought we wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or that we couldn’t afford it, and he decided to get rid of a threat before we did something…” He looks up at the ceiling, staring at the massive gun turret set into the ceiling over them, as he says, “There’s a lot of questionable things going on that makes his actions really suspicious. So many questions that need answering. I can’t prove anything either way now, and I realize that’s a problem.” He snarls as he says, “Him trying to blow off how bad the trip was didn’t help… And flat refusing to give us what we agreed on made it sooo much worse.”

Bottlecap turns to look at him before she asks softly, “I’ve known him for a while, but ponies do change for one reason or another… Do you think he’s a threat? Do you really think he intentionally got his caravan killed so he wouldn’t have to split the profits?”

Gearing lowers his head to look at her and replies flatly, “I can’t say either way. But, I will say that I would not trust him with anything that might get anycreature hurt or killed. Not until this is sorted out.”

Bottlecap frowns as she asks, “And just how do you expect to do that when you already can’t prove anything one way or the other with two separate suspicious incidents?”

Gearing grins as he tilts his head and shows her a gleaming profile view of his muzzle before he says, “That’s easy… If he doesn’t cough it up within a day, we’ll know he’s dirty and was lying about the whole thing the whole time…”

“And if the location is another trap? A better one this time?”

Gearing looks at her and smiles as he says, “Still easy… Because I’m going to give you all of the data-”

“I still haven’t agreed to that,” Bottlecap interjects.

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine, but I’ll give somebody the data… and then they can give him half and give me the location. It should only take me a week to check it out… and if I’m not back within two weeks, everyone’ll know. And whoever has the data can keep it and sell it to the highest bidder themselves.” He narrows his eyes as he says, “And I highly suggest you guys get rid of him. Either throw him out or kill him but at that point you’ll know he’s intentionally killing your people and will only be a threat if you let him get away. So your best bet is to have Keystone put a round through his head and throw him out for the radroaches.”

“If you don’t come back,” Bottlecap says with extra emphasis.

“Exactly. Because if I’m not back by then, then either I’m trapped or dead and either way it’ll be his fault,” Gearing says flatly. But then shrugs as he says, “Inversely… There is the small chance that he’s on the level, and all of this has been one huge misunderstanding and string of bad timing and events that had nothing to do with him… In that case you’ll know that as well and we can all get on with our lives.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly as he says, “I know it’s only a small chance. But I know how shit my luck is… That’s why I don’t want to just kill him. Or punish him. Or anything bad to happen to him unless I know for sure that he’s a bad egg.”

“And grabbing him by his neck and stringing him up like a sack?” Bottlecap asks point blank.

Gearing grimaces and looks off to the side as he says lamely, “He wasn’t giving the conversation as much attention as he should have and I think that’s why I made him… um… ‘hang around’ and give me all of it…”

She slaps a hoof over her eyes before she asks, “If anything like this happens again, would you kindly do me the favor of bringing it to my attention first before you go and confront someone in the middle of my store?” She lowers it and frowns as she says, “You’ve been great at helping get things squared away, but I don’t want to start thinking of you as a problem.”

“I’ll honestly try, that’s all I can say, Bottlecap,” Gearing replies as he shakes his head.

She lets out a groan as she looks away and says softly, “I suppose that’s all I can ask… thanks…”

Gearing taps on his PipBuck with a wingtip and quickly scrolls to an area that he’s already setup in his data storage section. “Well, here’s one of the schematics I found in that computer.”

“I’ll look at it later,” Bottlecap says flatly.

Gearing looks at her and grins as he says, “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“It means I have something else I’d like to talk with you about at the moment,” Bottlecap replies. And then as they’re walking up to the door to her office she says, “You’ve seemed to have calmed down and are able to talk… Think you’ve got enough control of yourself for a conversation that’ll let you do something more constructive?”

Gearing nods as he says. “Sure. Just let me know what you need.” He lifts up his PipBuck as he grins. “So… about the data job?”

Bottlecap looks at it, then up at him as she gives him a soft smile. “I was always going to help you with that. From the moment you said it. If nothing else it’d diffuse the situation… but… we’ll talk about that… later…” As she says the last syllable, and before Gearing can reply, she opens up the door and steps to the side out of the way as he’s stepping towards the doorway.

But, he stops dead in his tracks as he hears the quiet sobbing of some mare sitting on this side of Bottlecap’s desk, with her face buried in her forehooves on the desk as her whole body heaves.

Gearing slowly looks over at Bottlecap, who’s peeking around the edge of the door and staring at him. They lock eyes for a moment, and then she quickly darts hers towards her office before looking back at him and giving her head just the faintest of tilts.

Gearing smirks and nods before he slowly starts walking into the office.

As the door’s closing Bottlecap says loudly, “I’ll be back later; you just hang out in there for a while and get yourself sorted.”

And that just leaves Gearing in the room with this completely distraught mare.

The little blue pegasus in his head puts a large smoking pipe in his mouth and starts walking around as he comments, ‘I deduce that we were, in fact, intended to speak in here. But our previous assumption about which mare we would be speaking with was wrong as it was intentionally obfuscated. But why?’

One way to find out, Gearing mentally replies.

Gearing slowly walks over and by the mare, before sitting off to the side of Bottlecap’s desk. She doesn’t seem to pay any attention to him. Whether it’s because she simply doesn’t care or doesn’t notice him he can’t tell in the slightest. He leans forward, rests his own forehooves on the desk gently, and rests his chin on them as he looks at her. There’s not much he can tell about her from this position. But, then again, there’s a lot he can tell.

She’s a dark cerise mare with a cotton candy mane that lies particularly well against her head and body which is without a horn or wings. Her hat, a dirty black Stetson, has been cast off next to her, where it was either dropped or simply fell off of her head, he can’t tell which. She’s wearing the same kind of universal traveling clothes that a lot of the caravanners seem to enjoy these days. A combination of comfort, utility, and durability. And she’s pretty road traveled judging by the various stains and dirt. She didn’t even bother to kick the gunk off her boots when she came in, and there’s a bit of it around her on the floor of Bottlecap’s office. Which tells Gearing a bit of her state of mind. And then there’s the variety of smells he’s picking up. Gunshot residue from some kind of recent skirmish. Gun oil that’s still strong enough to let him know she’s got at least one firearm stored in that jacket of hers. And then there’s the alcohol. Apple Whiskey. The cheap stuff. And she’s been at it a while. Long enough that the reek of the bender is actually coming out of her sweat. But, given what he can see of her, he doesn’t think the tears are alcohol induced. Instead, he thinks the alcohol is tear induced and, just maybe, the reason for Bottlecap’s strange introduction.

After looking her over for a few moments and deciding that he’s learned enough, and that she’s not going to just introduce herself to him at this rate, he tilts his head and says softly, “Wanna talk about it?”

She chokes and snorts before she says, “Sure, if you want a laugh. But there ain’t no fixing this.” Her gruff voice cracks as she chokes on her own words as they cut so deep just being said.

Gearing looks her over slowly as he says, “I don’t know… I’m pretty good at fixing things… Why don’t you give it a shot and we’ll see what we can do?”

She starts snorting and chuckling with her head still buried in her forehooves, “Buck, you don’t know shit about shit, I’ll tell ya. If you knew even half of what’s going on you’d just give me another bottle and walk away…”

“Try me.”

She snorts then lifts her head and stares at him with blurry eyes. And it’s not just the alcohol causing the blood red look to her eyes. The tears have done an excellent job of contributing in mangling her aquamarine green eyes into sockets of despair for what is undeniably an ‘ugly cry’ session. Her nose dribbles and drool readily falls out of her mouth. And she doesn’t care. She’s beyond caring. She’s beyond trying to impress anyone. And, as Gearing stares at her, she bears the look of a mare that’s hit absolute rock bottom. But, unlike a lot of others, she can’t seem to grasp why. Like it’s not even her fault.

She narrows her eyes as she looks at him. Then she wipes her eyes with the back of her hoof as she grumbles, “Been drinking too much, ya look fucking shiny.”

Gearing smirks as he says, “It ain’t the booze, miss.”

She leans towards him, and stretches out her neck and muzzle towards him with her ears folded back, as she glares at him and tries to decide what’s going on and if she needs to deck somepony messing with her when she really would rather be left alone.

Gearing reaches over with a wing, grabs the empty bottle by her hooves, from where she’s been keeping it buried under her muzzle, and asks, “How about I fill this with some water for you? You’re gonna need it if you’re going to keep crying like that.”

The glint from his wings draws her attention. She shakes her head quickly, and then her eyes, as blurry as they seem to be, grow to their absolute widest they can go. She locks eyes with Gearing, for so long that he can actually make out the individual spider web of blood veins in her eyes as she leans even closer to him. She reaches over and taps him on the side with her forehoof then lets it fall to the ground limply as she asks, “Green wings? Gold buck? Are you Fixer? You can’t be…”

Gearing waves the bottle around as he gives her a grin. “Well, that’s what a few have started calling me… yeah…” He slowly gets up and walks over to a bucket he’d noticed that’s been catching rainwater, and slowly fills the empty booze bottle up with it.

She spins around, walking around on her forehooves to keep her eyes on him as she doesn’t blink, like she’s scared if she looks away he’s going to disappear on her. “Are you real? Like, real real, for real real?”

Gearing walks back and gives her the bottle of water as he says, “Well if not, then you’re the only one in here… So take a drink of this and tell me what you think.”

She grabs the bottle with a forehoof, and quickly throws it back as if she’s taking a deep drink from a flask. She coughs and looks around before she pulls the bottle away and grimaces, “That’s the most watered down, of watered down hooch I’ve ever drank!”

Gearing grins as he sits down and waves a hoof towards her. “Like I said… you look like you could use some water… So… how about it?”

She slowly sinks to the floor as she lays down and cradles the bottle close to her cheek. “I don’t know what to tell you…”

“Just tell me what you feel comfortable sharing… How about starting with a name?” Gearing says reassuringly as he lies down as well so they can look at each other at the same level.

“Name’s Magnolia… Most just call me Mags. I work the caravans for Bottlecap. Guard duty mostly. I work the trails while my hu-husband minded the h-house,” She snorts and closes her eyes as the pain hasn’t been numbed at all despite how much she’s drank. “Fucking slavers… They- they hit the house while I was out working. Took my husband… and my son…” She brings the bottle around to drink from it. Then gives it a dirty look after she pulls it away from her mouth for giving her water instead of the whiskey she’s craving. “And then the lowlifes in the area looted my house for all it was worth… I’ve lost everyone and everything.”

Gearing grabs the bottle, refills it, and sets it back down in front of her as he asks, “When’d this happen? Do you know which way they went?”

Mags shakes her head and snorts as she says, “It’s too late… I know how long it takes before it’s too late…” She snarls through her tears and snot coming from her nose as she says, “That fucking cunt Usury is really efficient about that… She’s desperate to keep Red Eye happy, so they don’t keep them around long.” She waves her hoof around as she says, “They always need more ‘volunteers’ for Red Eye’s grand vision!”

She slams half the bottle in one pull before she looks at Gearing and snorts. “I told Bottlecap about it. About how Usury intentionally targeted her caravanner’s family. I was hoping for some kind of help but she said she can’t do anything against her sister or it’d probably cause some kind of war or some bullshit.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head puffs on his pipe before he pulls it out and says flatly, ‘And there’s the answer we were looking for…’

Gearing looks her over for a bit before he says, “I’m sorry I can’t save your family…”

She chokes and looks off to the side as she waves him away with the bottle. “It’s not your fault… You don’t even know where it’s at… You didn’t even live there... I did. I shoulda been home with my family instead of traipsing all over this fucking wasteland trying to turn a cap!”

Gearing leans towards her as he says, “I’m sorry I can’t save your family… but… if you help me… I promise to avenge them… I just need some information…”

She crawls towards him a bit, letting the bottle fall to the side and the water start slowly spilling out in the process. She grabs ahold of his right forehoof and asks, “Are you really Fixer? The buck Roadie was talking about? The one that stampeded over Tower Towing, Killed Cookie, and brought in an arsenal of weapons from raiders you’d killed? Are you that Fixer?”

Gearing brings up a wing and starts counting off on his Pinions. “Yes I am. Yes, that's me. Yes, yes, yes, and yes!”

She glares at him for a moment before she says, “Prove it.”

Gearing grins at her as he lifts his PipBuck, opens up his map, and shows her as he says, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Roadie’s crew…”

And in sync the pair of them recites: “Gimmie some cords, and I’ll give you some corpses.”

Gearing grins as he gives her a wink and says excitedly, “You got it!”

Her jaw drops as she says flatly, “It is you!”

“Eyup!”

In the next moment she’s pushed him over onto his back and is on top of him and practically mounting him. And for the second time today, Gearing is completely confused about how things have changed from his intentions and how things could have escalated so quickly.

She practically lays on him as she grabs his face with her hooves and looks him in the eye. Tears resume. They resume with a force like a Hoofington downpour as she stares at him and starts yelling at him. But despite the pain and the tears, she wears a snarl across her muzzle. Because as much as this hurts, now is a time for vengeance. For Justice. For her family.

She shakes and tries to smoosh his face with her hooves as she starts talking in rapid fire snippets that are covered in grief, rage, and an iron will to see this through. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything! I’ll tell you shit I shouldn’t even know, that I’m not supposed to know! I kept it to myself because I didn’t want to draw any trouble to my family. But fuck Usury! She’s ruined my life and I want you to ruin hers! I know locations, time schedules, routes, you name it!” She leans down and the tears from her cheeks start plinking off Gearing’s muzzle as she says, “I’ll tell you… please… I’ll tell you… I’ll help all I can… Just gut that bitch. Hit her where it hurts. And just keep hitting her until she feels as bad as I do! She took everything from me, so leave her with nothing!” She leans down and starts hugging him as she pleads. “That’s the deal, right?! I tell you what I know, and you get your rocks off kicking their flank. Right? Right?! Please?” She holds on tightly as she completely breaks down and sobs into his neck. “Please… Celestia… Luna… Anypony… please…”

Gearing, wraps his wings around her, and starts patting her on the back with a hoof as he says, “You ain’t gotta bring them into all of this… I’m actually here…” He tilts his head and whispers in her ear. “So tell me what you know and I swear I’ll do everything I can with what you tell me to positively wreck their shit in the worst ways possible…”

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

80 TIPS

After having a lengthy conversation with Mags, getting all of the extensive information and knowledge from her that he can, he exits Bottlecap’s office and leaves the dark cerise mare where she lay on the floor. Right outside of the door, and not far away from the entrance, Bottlecap stands talking with a member of security as they go over some paperwork on a clipboard. She looks up from her clipboard and catches eye contact with Gearing.

After the two have been looking at each other in the eye for a bit, long enough that the tan mare next to her starts getting uncomfortable and starts wondering if there’s going to be a problem, Bottlecap gives a dip of her head and smiles as she says, “I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long. Are you feeling better? Ready to talk about the transaction between you and Lodestar yet?”

The little blue pegasus in his head narrows his eyes with a wide smile across his face as he says, ‘Oh… she’s gooood…’

Gearing looks at her and a smile grows on his muzzle as he says, “Thanks for letting me use your office to cool off.” He starts walking by them as he says, “We’ll talk about Lodestar later when we both have the time.”

The tan mare’s eyes go wide as she turns towards Gearing. “You going somewhere? I thought you were in a big rush to get this over with?”

Gearing looks at her, then at Bottlecap as he says, “In a rush to find out if I’ve been cheated and set up, sure… but I think it’s best if I go outside for a walk… Let everyone have enough time to destress with me out of sight….” He looks at the tan mare and grins as he says, “Maybe catch some air and think things through while I’m running some other errands…”

Bottlecap’s eyebrow rises as she asks, “Are you sure? I’m ready now if you are?”

Gearing looks at Bottlecap and waves a hoof dismissively. “I’m sure. Besides, this’ll give you and Lodestar time to talk privately about what you both want to do without having to worry about me.” He turns his head to show her the profile of the smile on his muzzle as he says, “There’s been something that’s been bugging me for a while, and I need to go do something about it…” He shrugs and starts casually walking away as he says, “Sounds like perfect timing to me.”

Bottlecap lets just a hint of a lip curl twitch on her face before she says, “Well, when you have the time, I’ll make myself available to go over the details with you.”

Gearing nods and continues walking away but then spins around and sits down as he makes a snap with his wing and draws both of their attention as the two mares had just started to look at each other to continue their interrupted conversation. “Oh! Just one more thing!” He trots back over and tilts his head as he asks, “I just want to check… make sure we’re perfectly clear with each other… See, I got a lead on some work… from someone else… And I didn’t go through the Finders, so you’re not going to try and stake claim on some of the profits from that, are you?”

Bottlecap’s eyes go wide, and she shakes her head for a moment before she says, “Absolutely not. We only charge a commission fee for those transactions we help facilitate. Why would you think that?”

Gearing grins as he says, “Well, it’s just that… with all of the work I’ve been doing for the Finders, some might be under the impression that I am one of you,” He glances at the tan mare and then leans towards her as he looks at her and adds, “Which I’m not.” He looks at Bottlecap and tilts his head as he says, “So, just in case you’re under the mistaken impression that I work for you… that I’m one of the Finders… I just want to clear that up… Because I don’t work for you… I might do some work for you here and there but…” He waves his hoof dismissively. “I’m simply a hired hoof. A contractor. A mercenary if you want. Nothing more. You pay me for ‘a’ job, and I do that, and that’s it… understand?”

Bottlecap’s eyes narrow as she looks him over. She purses her lips to the side before she raises her head and nods. “That’s perfectly understandable. Thank you for the clarification on your loyalties.”

Gearing nods as he says, “Good, so you get it?” He asks as he raises an eyebrow and she slowly nods. “Great… because beyond that I have no affiliation with you.”

To the guard’s surprise Bottlecap actually smiles at Gearing as she nods. “We agree. You have no affiliation to the Finders and are simply a hired hoof we sometimes contract for jobs that you are suitable for. As we do for any other pony.”

The tan mare curls her lip in disgust and asks as she looks at Gearing, “What the hell’s that all about all of a sudden? Why’s your affiliation so important?”

“Because to some it matters, and I can see how there might have been some confusion in the matter given all he’s done on the Finder’s behalf recently,” Bottlecap comments evenly.

“And then there’s the problem with others already staking claim on that and who I’m with,” Gearing says as he looks at the tan mare and shrugs.

“Like, who? What group are you really with?”

Gearing looks between them and smirks as he says, “Well, the answer to that entirely depends on who you ask.”

Bottlecap actually raises an eyebrow at that and asks, “Such as?”

Gearing looks at Bottlecap and waves it away with a hoof as he says, “If you ask me… I’d say I’m an unaffiliated independent. A neutral party that’s not even from around here.”

“Sounds like a typical merc; so who’s trying to call dibs on you?” the tan mare asks with a smirk.

Gearing looks between them then rolls his eyes before he says, “Well, if you go to the arena and ask them, Big Daddy’s staked claim. He spent a good amount of time this morning chewing me out over the possibility of anyone else saying otherwise and how he’s not going to stand for it.”

The tan mare’s eyes go wide as she asks, “Wait, you’re a Reaper?!”

Bottlecap chokes and coughs for a second as she wasn’t actually expecting that given the conversation she thought they were having. “Since… when? That’s certainly a new development.”

Gearing looks at her and sighs before waving a hoof off in the general direction of the Freight Cars territory. “Since before I met you, actually. An asshole named No Shoes tried to rob me and threatened some foals I’m looking after. Even issued an official challenge over it… So… I killed him in the ring.”

“So... you’re a Reaper too? Not just that ‘Iron Hoof’ you hang around with?” the security pony asks.

“According to Big Daddy, yeah,” Gearing says with a shrug. “I don’t really claim it, but Big Daddy’s pretty insistent in the matter. So if anyone asks, make sure there’s no confusion on that. I’m not a Finder.”

The tan mare looks over at Bottlecap and says quieter, “That explains more than a few things…”

Bottlecap, noticing the growing attention and potential witnesses around them because ponies had stopped in their tracks and blatantly started listening in on the conversation after the mention of the name ‘Reaper’, slowly nods in agreement to the tan mare. She directs her attention back to Gearing and says with a slightly louder tone than she had a moment before, “Well, whether you’re a Reaper or not, I expect you to behave while in Megamart. We have a standing arrangement with Big Daddy and his Reapers. You’re still as free to shop and do business as everyone else is. Take contracts from the wall or commission them if you wish. It’s up to you as long as you follow the rules.” She shrugs and then gives the faintest smile as she says, “I really don’t see the difference between what you’ve already been doing and now… Except now we know your affiliations… It’s not like you’ve ever said you were a Finder.” She grins wider as she says, “I’d have had to have a discussion with you about your lack of license payment if you ever did.”

Gearing nods rapidly as he smiles. “That’s fair.” He gets up and starts leaving as he says, “Now, I got another job to get to; see ya later.”

The tan mare calls after Gearing, “You really gonna kill Lodestar?” and gets a scathing stare from Bottlecap for her question that makes her ears fall back quickly and give a sheepish smile in return.

Gearing glances back at her and says flatly, “That depends how he wants to play ball. Either he gives us what we agreed on, and proves it’s one big misunderstanding like he’s saying… or he’s lying, and, well… I wasn’t lying when I said I’d rip his head off if it turns out he did set us up to be killed… The jury’s still out on whether I’ll actually give it to Swift and the others to play hoofball with, considering that’s not one but two he backstabbed if that’s the case.”

Bottlecap interjects, “I’ll have a word with him shortly and get this sorted out. But, again, please do not go threatening the merchants in here. And absolutely no fighting! I don’t care if you are a Reaper, Big Daddy still hasn’t paid the balance from the last time one of you started a fight in here.”

“I’ll keep any messy details outside of Megamart, I promise Bottlecap,” Gearing says as he turns and keeps on walking away. Gearing can’t help but notice the number of ponies that suddenly remember they have other places to be, and quickly scramble away as he walks away from Bottlecap.

As he’s walking, there’s a lot that he has on his mind. Although, contrary to what most would think, the whole situation with Lodestar is only a small part of it. He’d learned a lot from Mags. And he’s trying his hardest not to judge her too harshly. He’s already sure she’s going to be beating herself up for everything more than enough for the rest of her life over it. He doesn’t need nor want to add to it. Especially since the information she got in the process is most likely going to make all the difference. Not just for her quest for vengeance, but for his own long term plans as well. He’d still rather not associate with slavers. At all. Unless he’s only doing it to pump them for information to wreck their world. But that’s exactly what she did. Fraternizing with the enemy. That’s how she knows so much. Loose social connections with a few of Usury’s slavers. She can’t prove it, but her theory is that one of them got behind on their quota, knew she wouldn’t be there to help defend the home, and they broke in and took them to try and save their own skin. Red Eye’s appetite for pony flesh to do his work is insatiable. And he’s apparently been growing more aggressive. And to make matters worse, or better depending on your point of view, Usury’s been falling behind in her obligations to him.

Which might be exactly the wedge that Gearing had been trying to find to crack the whole operation apart.

But it saddens him that she had to lose her entire family to it before she was willing to say anything. He would have helped her and started the moment he was told had he’d known. He knows that. And, what’s worse, she knows it to be true as well. He’d already proven the point with the slavers that took Sugerbell’s father. So she’s got to be the one who has to live with that: keeping secrets she shouldn’t have until it was too late and bit her in the flank. Although that’s even a sketchy point in itself as well.

Because he feels a bit slimy on the things he did say to her in that regard.

She’d moaned and cried about how much she wanted to die and be with her family. And how she’d already been debating on either eating a bullet herself, or just getting so drunk she doesn’t feel anything more, and then shooting up Paradise Mall as much as she can before they finally take her down. Maybe take a few of them out with her. Which seemed to be the winning option in her mind.

Until Gearing twisted her grief and shame against her.

What he told her amounted to her being selfish for putting them into that situation, but then taking the easy way out and killing herself. And he’d asked why they had to keep suffering until they finally died, while she got to just give up. At the bare minimum she can wait until Usury is taken care of. Or, if she really wanted to atone, stop feeling sorry for herself and do something about it. Not in a drunken blind rage that’s doomed to fail, but in a way that’ll do some actual good. Or, and even better, get all the info she can, and feed it to him, so he can take care of it. Because eventually they’ll get the ones that snatched her family and then her family will properly be avenged and can rest in peace.

And then there are his parting words, which were something that he still actually regrets saying. He told her that she had a decision, and could either do something to make right for her mistakes, or she could give up entirely and in doing so fail her family a second time. It cut deep. He saw the look on her face in agonizing detail as the syllables fell out of his mouth. And as someone who knows more than a little bit about the guilt failure brings, it was a double edged sword that cut him as well. Possibly even more than it did her.

If anyone else had seen the exchange he knows that he’d be getting yelled at as a self righteous bastard that has no right to say something like that to her. And, he’d have to agree with them, at least on an internal personal level. He’s in no position to judge anyone over their own mistakes. But at the same time he hopes the push, the biting stinging statements, will stay with her. Because as long as they torment her, she’ll be thinking about it. And as long as she has the capacity to think, she’ll be alive. What she does with that is up to her but he hopes that she can turn her grief and anger into a fuel to keep her going.

It’s worked so far for him.

As he’s still scolding himself for his piss poor choice of counseling techniques he walks around Megamart in a roundabout way. He intentionally avoids going near the area where Happy Trails has her booth. There’s enough tension that just walking by it might break the seal and get everyone covered in muck. So he starts walking by the area with the cots as he’s trying to figure out where he should go and what exactly he should do.

And, as he’s walking by, a flash of white catches his eye and he glances over. On the far end, away from everyone else, is Swift and Handy lying on cots as Dandy sits near them talking with them. Or, what would be a more accurate explanation, would be that everyone else is actively staying away from them after the Lodestar incident and the pair were just being polite enough to stay in the far side back area. Dandy, obviously not perturbed by the news of the incident, sits nearby and chats merrily with an apparently very sleepy Swift.

Handy, for his part, seems to be just as, if not more, exhausted. But he’s far more awake as his cold is contributing to quite the pile of mucus filled cloths on the floor near the head of his bed as he rolls over one way after another and tries to get into a position where he can breathe easier and get some actual sleep. And as Gearing is looking them over, he can’t help but notice the pile of supplies in between and under Swift and Handy’s cots that he’s not sure where it all came from.

As he’s trying to see what it could all be, Dandy happens to glance over in his direction, whip her head to look right at him, and a grin explodes across her muzzle.

She raises a foreleg high in the air as she calls him over. “Hey, Gearing, over here!” She climbs up into the cot next to Swift and starts getting comfortable as she stretches out and looks at him. “Swift’s been catching me up with what all you guys have been up to.”

“Oh?” Gearing asks as he walks up and sits down on the floor not far from them but closer to Dandy’s cot to avoid the mess on the floor. He arcs an eyebrow as he looks at Swift, as the cheerfulness of the greeting really didn’t seem to match what he’d expect.

Swift groans as she stares at Gearing with her eyes drooping. She yawns as she says, “Just the highlights… not… everything… else…”

“Fuck the lowlife lowlights,” Handy mutters from his cot as he performs another comfort seeking rolling tumble across the top of the cot and, this time, ends up belly down as he hangs his right two limbs off the bed.

Dandy grins as she looks at Gearing. “Did you seriously scale an elevator shaft by gluing spikes to yourself? That’s so crazy!”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Yeah, but, they weren’t spikes…”

Dandy scrunches her face to the side as she raises an ear. “What?”

Gearing reaches into his bag and pulls out the smallest pinkie claw he’d salvaged from the museum from the metal box it's stored in and holds it up with his wingtip. He starts twirling it around with his green wingtip, seemingly enjoying showing off his dexterity with it, as he says with a grin, “It was some of these… not spikes…”

Dandy’s eyes go rounder by the second as she seems absolutely mesmerized by it. But then she extends out a forehoof and starts waving it at the claw as she asks, “I-is… Is- Is that- Is that a wyvern’s claw?!”

Gearing flicks the claw up into the air as he chuckles. He catches it again and goes back to twirling it as he looks at her and smiles. “Dragon, Dandy, dragon… It’s a dragon’s claw… wyverns only pretend to be dragons until the real dragons show up!”

He scoots just a bit closer to her as he holds it for her to see.

‘What… what’s that smell?’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as he lifts his head and looks around, despite how tired and weak he feels.

Gearing mindlessly scoots just a bit closer as he mentally replies, I’m not sure.

The movement catches Handy’s attention and he starts eyeballing Gearing suspiciously.

Dandy’s jaw drops, and her foreleg stops mid shake, as her eyes go to their absolute widest and seem to practically sparkle. “H-he said it…” Her ears and cheeks start turning rosy as a flush seems to grow across her entire body. “Heh… hehe… pretend… to be dragons… heh… hehehehe…” She seems to lose all sight of their surroundings as she slowly turns into a drooling giggling mess and seems to practically melt into the cot as she gets lost in her own thoughts. “Heh… claws… hehe.”

Swift’s eyes suddenly seem to lose their sleepiness as she looks over at Dandy’s sudden rapid devolution into a giggling mare puddle. “What the hell? That’s a weird ass kink…” Swift sniffs the air a few times before she rolls her eyes and starts changing positions. “Oh hell… seriously? I’m too tired for this…” She flops over in a decidedly different direction and tries to ignore whatever it is Dandy’s doing.

With Dandy lost in a world of mental thoughts and apparently unable to speak anymore, Gearing shifts over and looks at Swift and asks, “What’s with all of the stuff under you guys?” Although he shifts closer to Dandy ever so much more while talking to Swift.

‘What is that smell?’ the little blue pegasus in his head asks as he closes his eyes and starts snuffing around.

Swift groans, “We don’t trust Lodestar, so we got our shit back from Happy Trails. Had security drop it off for us. The stuff they had of yours is under Handy’s head. Apparently Patches still has some of your other stuff though, but that should be fine.”

“Ah, okay,” Gearing replies as he leans over ever so much. He closes his eyes and slightly shifts as he takes in a long slow snuff and tries to follow the scent.

Swift’s eyes go wider by the second, as Handy’s narrow. As what’s taking place before him happens, Handy mutters flatly, “Bullshit… bullshit…”

Instantly Dandy’s eyes zip open crystal clear as she’s violently pulled out of her fantasy world.

All because Gearing had started his long slow intake of air at the base of her neck, trailed it up her mane, behind her ear, and ever so lightly brushed against her horn and ear with his lips as faint as a butterfly’s kiss. She slowly starts shaking as he retraces the path, and she shivers as he brushes past her ear yet again.

“Bullshit,” Handy mutters again as he stares at Gearing mindlessly casually invading Dandy’s personal space.

‘Why’s her hair smell so good?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it’s completely confused.

“G-Gearing!?” Dandy shrieks as he tickles her neck with his lips. Yet again. “W-what are you doing?”

Gearing pulls back a bit, just enough not to butt heads as Dandy jumps her head up to look at him. He looks her in the eye and asks flatly, “New shampoo?”

Dandy stares at him blankly, although the flush working its way down her neck doesn’t diminish at all. “‘New shamp-’?” She looks over at Handy, who is glaring at Gearing endlessly, and Swift, whose eyes couldn’t get any bigger if she tried. A smirk grows across her face as she says, “Oh, I get it…” She taps him on the cheek with a forehoof, in a light slap, as she says, “You’re getting fresh, aren’t you?” She climbs out of the cot as she says, “Mmm hmmm, that’s it. I need to have a little conversation with you and your habit of invading my personal space.” As she’s walking by him, she wraps her tail around his neck and says, “Come on, you, let’s go have a chat… I know where we won’t wake up ponies trying to sleep.”

Gearing tilts and leans towards her, and then gets up to follow along fluidly as he says flatly, “Uh, yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

As Gearing is walking out of the Megamart cot area, Handy mutters, “Bullshit… Don’t know what I’m talking about, huh? No way you’re that dense… no way…”

As Dandy is leading Gearing up the metal stairs that lead to Megamart’s roof, the little pegasus in Gearing’s head keeps leaning closer and closer as he asks, ‘What is that smell?’

Gearing mentally replies as his body mindlessly follows Dandy, I don’t know, but I want it…

* * *

After Swift had fallen asleep, and with Handy still wishing he could, a pink lemonade pelted mare in a caravanner outfit comes trotting through the cots without paying much attention to her surroundings. Whether she’s too focused on what she’s wanting to do, or because it’s so early in the day she doesn’t expect anyone else to really be trying to sleep, her hooffalls aren’t exactly quiet. So she draws Handy’s attention as she quickly marches over to where another caravanner mare is laid out on a cot.

The audacious mare stops right next to the cot, and unceremoniously starts poking the orange sleeping mare in the side with a hoof, quickly waking her up.

The mare laying down jerks at being touched, then looks at the mare next to her and asks grumpily, “The hell you want? I thought you all went to go play cards?”

“I did. We did. Gimmie a cigarette…” She pokes her a couple more times. “Gimmie a couple, actually.”

The orange mare in the bed lets out a few grumbles and growls before she says, “Did you really just wake me up for a fucking cigarette?!”

“I need one, I need one bad… And we haven’t been paid yet and you owe me a few.”

The mare in the cot rolls around and grumbles. A moment later her horn glows and the jacket she had laying over the side of her cot floats up. A pack of cigarettes comes floating out of one of the pockets and then gets flicked at the mare that woke her up. “You don’t smoke that often, how could you need one so badly?” She lays down and glares at her. “Bad enough to wake my ass up?!”

The mare quickly grabs the pack, flicks a cigarette out of it and directly into her mouth, and lights it up.

The momentary flare up reveals the pink lemonade mare’s face more and the mare laying down lifts up a bit before she asks, “Why are you so flushed?” She smirks. “You’re pinker than normal.” She taps on her own cheek with a hoof to indicate where she can see a very noticeable color change in her friend’s complexion.

The smoking mare takes a few more puffs before sitting down next to her. “I just had a hell of a time. We’re all up there trying to enjoy ourselves with a game before our next run … but apparently Patches decided to enjoy herself some other way.”

The mare lying down rolls over to look at her and grins. “You mean…?”

She puffs on the cigarette a few more times before she says, “Oh, it wasn’t just somepony… She musta hired a professional.” She puffs a few more times and lets the smoke out in a long stream. “Whoever it is has got Patches making noises that’s getting everypony frustrated and going to have a hard time sleeping tonight.”

The mare on the cot chuckles as she stretches out. “Got you all hard up, huh?”

The smoking mare stares her in the eye and groans, “I swear I almost came just hearing it.”

The mare on the cot chuckles as she asks, “Why don’t you just knock on the crate and ask if you can join?”

“Because they might say ‘Yes’ and I might just die,” the smoking mare replies matter-of-factly.

“Patches? Why’s that name sound familiar?” Handy asks quietly.

“That’s the armor mare Gearing’s been dealing with,” Swift says with a yawn and betrays the fact that she’s been more awake than those around might have otherwise thought.

Handy raises an eyebrow as he asks, “He left with Dandy… It can’t just be a coincidence; can it? What’s he doin’? Trying to get a discount?”

Swift snickers and shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna know…” She lifts her head and smirks as she looks at Handy. “In case you haven’t heard, that buck gets around.”

* * *

The orange and pink lemonade mares have been joined by a few of their other co-workers and friends from the trail. After a while, it got to be too much for them and they came down to get out of the noise radius of whatever is going on inside of Patches’ personal crate. And, after enough of them came down, they started another pickup game of cards, with even the orange mare joining in. After all, any chance of going to sleep early went out the window a while ago after the next two came down to join the mare that woke her up.

Gearing comes down the aisle way, bopping and just a half beat below prancing as he makes his way to Megamart’s cot motel. He pauses long enough to stretch out with his forelegs, extra long as he slides his forehooves way out and wiggles all over as his front half dips low and his tail flies around behind him.

The little blue pegasus in his head mimics him perfectly as it has a wide smile on its face and performs the same downward dog stretch. ‘I feel so much better!’

Gearing straightens up and starts trotting down the aisle with a warm smile on his face as he casually looks back and forth, dipping his head respectfully to those that he locks eyes with along the way.

‘I was wondering how long it was going to take before that enervation crap worked itself out of us…’ The little blue pegasus in his head actually prances in place. ‘Not going to lie, I was starting to worry with how long it was taking.’

I hear ya, I’ve never felt so off in all my life, Gearing mentally replies.

‘I felt fuzzy, and only half here, and just ridiculously light. Like the implant had malfunctioned and was making us weigh less than a cloud.’

Yeah, what was that all about? Gearing mentally asks as his outward face momentarily twitches into showing how perturbed he is at the thought. Felt like I was going to drift away at any second!

‘Well, it’s over now. But at least we know that we just needa give it more time and rest away from that craziness.’ The little pegasus starts flying around in casual figure eights going through cloud hoops as he says, ‘I feel all topped up, full of energy, and ready to go!’

Really weird coincidence on the timing though, Gearing mentally chuckles.

The little blue pegasus in his head giggles as he replies, ‘I know, right?! If that acted like a battery for us, we could be super charged all the time!’

“Wouldn’t that be something though?” Gearing mutters aloud as he turns and starts walking into the cot motel at an energetic trot.

The entire way Gearing has been oblivious to the attention directed at him. He’s been keeping an eye out, as he normally does, for trouble. But in this instance, the looks stay under his radar as they are, in general, rather amused about something. And he doesn’t even pay attention to the card playing mares as they all look over and stare at him as he enters the area.

After a few whispers there’s a general consensus of agreement, before they all end up sharing the same sort of amused smirks as those Gearing had passed on the way here.

“He must really enjoy his job,” the orange mare comments as she shamelessly stares. “I wonder how he’s even walking already after all that… I’d figure even a pro would be sleeping it off now.”

The mare with the deck of cards continues shuffling mindlessly as she asks, “I wonder what he charges?”

The pink lemonade mare lights up another cigarette before she says, “He’s fucking gold… I don’t think we could afford it even if we pooled our money…”

The mare with the cards makes an exaggerated show of taking a long time to bridge shuffle the cards. “Judging by the noise he drew out of Patches, I wouldn’t mind fucking some gold myself…”

The orange mare sits up, her eyes going wide as something caught her eye. “Wait… did I just see green wings?!”

They all stare and focus more, and slowly their eyes go wide as well as they see the extremely shiny buck ruffling his crystalline feathers. Then, as one, they all gasp in quiet voices as they all turn to look at each other. “““Fixer?!”””

The name, as quietly as it’s uttered, draws the focus of one of Gearing’s ears. Then he turns his head and glances over at them sideways to see if they had any actual business with him or if they were trying to get his attention. As the group looks at him, and he returns the attention, he gives them a smirk of a grin, before gently waving with one of his wings as he continues on towards Swift and Handy.

‘Oh… lookit… more fans it seems,’ the little blue pegasus comments as he energetically waves at the group of card playing caravanners. Although, none of them can see it for obvious reasons. ‘They don’t seem mad at us for Lodestar.’

That’s a plus, Gearing replies. But I’m still not too enthused with being so easily recognizable… Damn I wish I had my skin…

The caravanners all start snickering before the mare with the cards starts dealing and comments, “Yeah, sounded like he fixed’er good alright.” She gets a mischievous grin on her muzzle as she suggests, “How about the first one out goes ask how much a ride’d cost?” She quickly gets shot down by the rest of the caravanner troop who throw out a variety of excuses on why they don’t want to.

Not detecting any problems that he needs to deal with, or avoid, Gearing focuses on Swift and Handy. Both of which are sprawled out on their respective cots and neither looks particularly well at the moment.

“You guys alright?” Gearing asks as he looks them over.

Swift lets out a sigh before she replies softly, “Yeah… we’ll be fine… just need some sleep… like, a lot of sleep.” She limply waves a hoof over towards Handy as she says, “He got some sleep here and there in the tunnels, but not as much as he’d like, and he’s still sick. And I haven’t really had much rest since we left Chapel… I’ll be good in the morning. That’s why I’m turning in so early.”

“Alright, well, you guys take it easy and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gearing replies evenly.

“You going somewhere?” Handy asks after he has rolled around again and has now flopped on his side so he can look at them without having to use his own strength to lift his own head.

“I got a lead I want to follow. And I need to get some equipment and stuff sorted. Plus I think getting out of here will give everyone a chance to chill out,” Gearing says with a shrug. “Give me something to do besides sit and stew. Keep myself busy.”

Swift opens an eye to look at him and waves a foreleg at him as she yawns. “Just don’t go getting yourself in any more kind of trouble. Alright? At least let me get a nap before you try to start another world war or something.”

Gearing snaps with his wing as he grins and asks, “Awww… How’d you know what I wanted to do? You’re no fun.”

She waves a hoof limply and giggles as she says, “Okay… fine, no world wars but anything less than a local skirmish is fine...”

Gearing rolls his eyes and waves it away. “Fine fine, I’ll wait until you’re feeling better before I start running around and challenging them all to a hoofball game.”

Swift lifts up just enough to look at him as she asks, “You can’t be serious?”

Gearing chuckles as he grins widely. “Nah, I fucking hate sports!

Swift nods a couple times before laying back down. “That’s what I thought… Was just checking…”

Gearing walks over near Handy and asks, “Sinuses still messing with you?”

“My kids mess with me. My wife messes with me. Misplacing my tools messes with me… My sinuses are fucking killing me,” Handy says with a groan.

“You’ll be fine, Handy, you’ve had head colds before…” Swift says with a groan.

Gearing reaches out and points at Handy’s muzzle using a wing as he says, “Well, you know, if it’s that bad… you could cut into the sinuses here and here… insert a tube to drain them and flush them and it’d help clear it up quicker.”

Handy looks from Gearing’s wingtip, that’s pointing at the side of his muzzle, up to Gearing’s eyes before he asks with his own eyes barely open, “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s called a lavage; it’ll flush all that crap right out through your nostrils. I’m sure we can get what we need from Bonesaw, or just have him do it for you,” Gearing offers evenly.

Handy slowly looks over at Swift and groans, “Swiiiiift… Gearing wants to cut my face up and give me a lozenge…”

“It’s perfectly normal for bad sinus infections, and safe when done clinically,” Gearing replies as he looks over at Swift.

“If I have to get out of bed, I’m kicking everypony’s ass,” Swift groans as she presses into the cot and squeezes her eyes tightly closed in frustration.

Handy waves a hoof at Gearing and grumbles, “If it’s such a great idea, go test it on Lodestar… if he survives I’ll give it a shot…”

Gearing rolls his eyes and starts sorting through the supplies below the cot under Handy’s head as he says, “All that’d prove is that the procedure is safe, not that it works. Drilling a hole into Lodestar’s sinuses might seem funny to you, but beyond proving you can, it’d be a waste…”

Swift grumbles as she puts her hooves over her ears, “Really, do I need to separate you two so I can get some sleep?!”

Handy, flops around again, and ends up looking away from them as he starts to get comfortable. But then the honking from his nose starts as Gearing resumes digging around for his own supplies.

After getting a selection of items from his belongings under Handy, Gearing heads back the scenic route around Megamart as he makes his way to Patches’ booth. As he’s walking up he finds her sitting on the inside hard at work at her bench. And she only looks up after she hears a soft knock on her table. She looks over at him with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth as she starts giving him a critical eye.

Gearing gives her a sheepish smile as he asks, “Uhm… am I still allowed here?”

She doesn’t even bother to remove the cigarette from her mouth as she says flatly, “It wasn’t my neck you had all strung up in the air.”

Gearing has the good sense to at least cringe a bit before he asks, “Soooo?”

She pulls her cigarette out of her mouth with her magical field, and holds it to the side as she blows the smoke up into the air above them. “So, what, you wanna talk about it?”

Gearing shakes his head. “That’s not why I’m here, but if you have questions I’ll answer them.”

She puffs on her cigarette as she looks his face over. “You really think he did what you’d said?”

Gearing lets out a sigh and closes his eyes as he replies, “I don’t know for sure. If I knew, I woulda probably already killed him. But, I don’t. So I haven’t.” He opens his eyes as he stares at her and adds, “But might know within a day if I’m right… two weeks tops.”

“I hope you don’t mind me sayin’… but I really hope you’re wrong… like really hope so,” Patches comments as she goes back to puffing on her cigarette. “Things are barely holdin’ on ‘round here and by mighty frayed threads… Somepony doing that, killin’ off their so called friends, fellow caravanners, merchants,” she waves towards Gearing, “the ones they hire… That’s the kinda stuff that keeps ponies from workin’ together. At all.”

“And I hope you don’t mind me saying that I truly hope I’m wrong too,” Gearing says with a wide smile. “I mean, it doesn’t happen a lot… but, it’s been known to happen.”

She snorts and puts out her cigarette before she asks, “Well, what can I help you with today?” She looks him over as she says, “You’re a bit loud today… visually included.” She smirks as she asks, “Where’s that cloak you’d been running ‘round with?”

Gearing shrugs and waves off towards the Core. “Gave it to some kids at Chapel. They looked like they needed it more.”

“Mmmhmmm and jus’ what you gonna do now? I mean, you’re a little conspicuous and it’ll only take a glance before some o’ those Steel Ranger assholes notice you.”

Gearing slowly walks closer as he waves towards under her table. “Well. I was hoping you could help me out with that, actually. And I came to pick up Snakebite and a few other things.”

She slides back from the table and then uses her levitation to drag the box that she’d stored his things in out in front of her. She flips it open as she says, “I haven’t been able to repair your armor yet. Sorry. I got a bit busy. And you still needa take care o’ the helmet business yourself. That thing looks ready for the recycle bin, but you said you were sure you can fix it… So that’s on you.”

“I can,” Gearing says flatly as he nods and starts looking over the box’s contents.

Patches watches as he pulls out the fabled ‘Snakebite’ and can’t help but smirking as she asks, “Why is it that even that thing that looks like a toy to me, seems like it can be dangerous in your hooves?”

Gearing pulls out the two pieces, separately, and starts looking them over carefully. Snakebite looks like some kind of toy that young colts and fillies would play with when playing war or some other such foolishness. When fully assembled, and the two pieces put together, it resembles a small rifle. Much too small for a full grown adult to be taking seriously. And the interior diameter of the barrel is so small very few could take it seriously in general. The stock portion isn’t actually a ‘stock’ as much as it is an air canister for compressed air. A canister which is used to launch the small projectiles relatively long distances. Although, it has a secondary mode with a tension spring that flings its ammo silently at close distances, but needs to be pulled back and cocked each time it’s fired. Snakebite’s composed of two primary pieces. The first accounts for the majority of the barrel’s length. And though it comes off, the weapon is still capable of being fired without it. The extra length is a simple addition to allow longer more accurate shots. But, even with it, it’s a medium ranged weapon at best because the projectiles lose velocity after exiting the barrel quite quickly. The second piece is ‘everything else’ that makes up the weapon. It has a quality of life feature where a set of clips on the side of the main body allow the barrel to be safely stored when not needed. But, even when it’s clipped to the side, it doesn’t stop Snakebite’s function. A function that has a lot to do with its name.

Gearing pulls out a cloth bag from the box, and quickly stores it on himself, before he pulls a Mint-als tin from inside of the box and cracks it open. It is at this point that Patches finally gets to see the ammunition for Snakebite. A collection of small darts lay tightly wedged in with foam inside of the Mint-als tin. To the casual observer, they don’t look like much. Maybe tiny doses of some medication. But for anyone that had known a bit of Gearing’s recent history, the darts would take on an entirely new meaning. Because they are the exact shape, size, and configuration of the darts that he’d found in a similar Mint-als tin in the R&D section of Stable 68. And the fact that Snakebite, as it is currently designed and laid out, is capable of firing these darts, and thus those, is no accident. And just as with those darts, it’s not the darts that are dangerous, but what they could potentially carry.

And that’s by both intent and design.

For the darts he has are capable of holding pretty much anything in them. From a sedative, to a poison, or any other kind of injectably delivered cocktail. The ones currently in his possession he made by diving through the trash and refuse piles. And Bonesaw’s trashcan was particularly fruitful for spent and damaged needles or empty med-x injectors that Gearing was able to repurpose.

Although, because he doesn’t quite know what he wants to do with each one, and because he’s a fan of forethought, he’s already sterilized them extensively. After all, he doesn’t want to intend on knocking someone out, only to end up giving them raider disease from a junkie’s dirty needle.

Patches looks at Gearing as he’s closing up the tin and asks, “What are you gonna do with those little things?”

“The plan is to get some answers. But I need to get ahold of something around here that’s got some poison I can milk or a gland I can remove and use.”

Patches smirks as she says, “You know, there’s this crazy mare that’s always cookin’ with scorpion glands and puttin’ orders on the wall. Most o’ her last order had already been filled, but she might want some more.” She waves towards the board on the wall a distance away. “The old gravel mine’s always had a problem with them. But they can be pretty much anywhere. I mean, you could try to hunt down some snakes, if you think that’d work, but I think the scorpions would be your best bet.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he says, “Yeah, but unless they are jumbo sized arachnids it’d take quite a few to really do anything. One per dose if I’m lucky.”

Patches lights a new cigarette then grins as she takes a puff from it. She pulls it out with her magic and points it at him as she asks, “You really are new around here, ain’t ya?”

* * *

After an excessive amount of teasing about his lack of common knowledge, Patches was willing to help him out with some information to help him along his way. And, arguably more importantly, help get him ‘dressed for success’. The full body suit she’d provided him probably won’t last a terribly long time. Especially if he moves around excessively. It’s so ridiculously form fitting that his gears pinch it in a variety of locations. However, the fabric is thin enough that it doesn’t jam up his movements. It just makes it feel weird when the thin bits slide in between the rotating gears along his sides and legs. The down side is while it doesn’t harm him, it does stress the fabric and will, eventually, start developing holes. He’s not sure what the bodysuit is really for, or was originally intended, as it covers everything from flank to up to the top of his head. And it leaves just his hooves and face poking out. Although, after Patches compliments him on his ass and how the suit makes it look, even providing a mirror to prove her point, he definitely has a few ideas on the original purpose. Especially since he had to agree with her.

But, in a move that would make Sable cry if she were around, they complete the look with a couple layers of other fabric to help him be able to blend into his surroundings and move easier. As much good as the body suit does for toning down the amount of visible brass across his body, its main job was actually to keep the rest of the fabric out of his gears. Because that has a much higher chance of causing some kind of problem. For his wings, he simply returns to the wing sleeves from the riot gear compilation. As that was one of the few things that Patches was able to actually get put back together. And Gearing is more than happy to have the rubbery material covering his wings once more. Although, at the same time, he hopes he doesn’t run into any beam weapon wielding maniacs. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t simply use their weapons against them. And, more importantly, it’d increase his chances of getting burnt and ashed by not being able to reflect and refract the light elsewhere. The last thing she sets him up with before she lets him out of her sight is a cloth face mask and head covering cowl combination. Along with a pair of goggles that she’s not even sure how he can actually see through them, but whatever makes him happy and works she’s happy with.

After a quick stop by the posting board, Gearing happily yanks down a piece of paper and chases down the pony who’d put it up.

As Bonesaw is closing up his clinic for the night, he looks up as the commission announcement is dropped on the counter in front of his face. Bonesaw looks up, and balks as he sees Gearing’s grinning face not far from his. Even though Gearing had thoughtfully removed the facemask and goggles, so Bonesaw could easily see who he is, his sudden silent appearance still startles Bonesaw so badly that he jumps in surprise and has goosebumps crawl all over him.

Gearing taps on the paper a few times as his smile just gets bigger by the second. “You need scorpion glands, right?”

“Y-yeah?” Bonesaw asks as he pulls back and has a hard time understanding why the brass buck looks so happy. “To make some antivenom. I’m running low because idiots keep getting stung.”

Gearing leans closer, causing Bonesaw to recoil more, as he asks, “Well, tell me where they keep getting stung, and I’ll solve both problems!” His grin gets wider as he asks, “Where’s the scorpions?!”

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

80.5 Confounding Evening

With it already being late in the evening, Patches decides to go ahead and close up shop. She’s pretty exhausted by this point; with everything she’s done during the day it isn’t any wonder. On top of normal daily stressors, and dealing with a certain green winged individual, there’s also the entire fiasco surrounding Lodestar. That whole situation spread through Megamart like a wildfire. Most creatures in the building already had the gist of the situation before security even arrived on the scene.

But the potential ramifications of it have everyone in Megamart stressed.

So Patches is extremely eager to get to bed and sleep away the rest of the night. She’s hoping a night of rest will be able to put it out of her mind long enough for it to sort itself out instead of hanging over her head. Which is a tactic that many ponies routinely fallback on when faced with the realities of the wasteland. She lights up a cigarette and is just taking her first drag from it as she finishes closing the front of her booth.

A mare caravanner, that Patches only vaguely recalls seeing before, walks by her as she finishes closing up the booth and asks, “Hey, Patches, you’re still up?”

Patches nods as she steps away from her booth. “Been a long day. I’m exhausted.”

The mare giggles before she says, “I bet you are…” She continues on down the aisle as she gives Patches a mischievous smirk. “Business must be pretty good for ya.”

Patches nods as she starts walking the opposite direction of the caravanner. “Yeah, actually, it’s been really good lately.”

The comment just makes the mare giggle even more as she shakes her head and continues on her way.

As Patches is walking down the aisle, she notices that a couple of the other ponies standing around, talking among themselves, seem to glance in her direction. And a telling smirk crosses their muzzle as they notice her. At first she didn’t notice. But then she did. And after a bit, and it seems like nearly everypony she’s passing has that same smirk on their face, she starts getting a little self-conscious. Like there’s a joke that she’s the butt of and doesn’t even know about yet. Except, not quite: as none of it seems malicious and rather it all seems based in amusement.

But it still confuses her to no end.

As she’s rounding a corner to head towards the stairs up, she sees another caravanner mare walking towards her. The mare, with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, takes one look at Patches and her eyes bug out.

Patches can’t help wondering if she’s got something on her face or what could be causing these reactions. Especially after this mare gets the exact same smirk on her muzzle a moment after recovering from some kind of shock.

The mare slows her trot as she asks, “Patches, how are you even awake right now? Your endurance has gotta be ridiculous!”

Patches raises an eyebrow, and then shrugs as she smiles. “Get used to long days after a while. Just gotta take it in stride.”

The mare’s eyes bug out again as she snorts a laugh so powerful that it seems to hurt her. She slaps a hoof on the ground repeatedly as she laughs and says, “Well, some of us can’t afford to ‘take it’ like that.”

Patches shakes her head a bit before she says, “Well… I don’t know what to tell ya… I guess not everypony’s built to handle it.”

The mare just laughs louder as she carries on down the aisle. “Oh how I envy you, Patches!”

Patches continues on as she’s looking back at the laughing mare. “What is up with these caravanners tonight? They get into the good hooch or somethin’?”

As she’s almost to the metal staircase that leads to the roof, she catches sight of an orange unicorn mare coming back from the direction of the bathrooms. A moment after catching sight of each other, the orange mare gets the same ridiculous smirk on her muzzle, and causes Patches to narrow her eyes suspiciously at her.

The mare picks up pace just enough to get closer before she asks, “Hey, Patches, I heard you’ve expanded into working with professionals.” She gives Patches a wide grin as she continues strolling up to her.

Patches blinks a couple times. “Huh? I mean, yeah. But, what?”

The orange mare waves a hoof as she has the same cheesy smile on her muzzle. “You know… that green winged golden stud you serviced?”

Patches casually puffs on her cigarette before she says, “Oh, yeah. Him… To be honest, I don’t know who’d really be the one providin’ who service there. That buck knows what he’s doin’!” She waves a hoof. “It’s awe inspirin’, honestly.”

The orange mare tenses up as her giggle changes a few octaves and she fights herself from exploding at the thought. “Oh you!” She puts a hoof to her mouth as she giggles a bit more. “So I’ve heard!” She trots over closer before she asks quietly, “So, uh, I’ve got a bit of a bet going on… What’s something like that run?”

Patches slowly takes a drag from the cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she stares at the mare. The conversation really seems a bit weird. Even more so as she can’t figure out why the orange mare’s cheeks had suddenly started getting flushed. After shrugging and thinking that it’s probably alcohol kicking in, Patches replies, “Well, we just worked somethin’ out. Bartered on the specifics on what would be done and how long it was gonna be.”

The orange mare’s jaw drops as a sudden thought explodes into being in her head. “You mean it doesn’t have to be straight caps?!”

Patches shakes her head as she smiles lightly. “Nah. Not at all… I mean, caps talk. But salvage, equipment, hell, even information can count and be bartered towards the price.”

The orange mare’s grin spreads from ear to ear as she practically squeals, “Sweet, Celestia, that’s amazing!”

Patches raises an eyebrow before she blows out a puff of smoke. “I mean… if you think so… But it’s just good business practices really.”

The orange mare prances in place before she starts quickly trotting off towards the Megamart cots. “Thanks for the info, Patches! I can’t believe I actually might be able to afford it!”

The giggling mare quickly gets out of sight and Patches calls after her, “Uh, yeah, just swing on by the booth when you get a chance!” but the giggling mare doesn’t hear Patches as she’s too lost in her own world.

Patches continues on and starts up the stairs as she says, “I guess she’s really been wantin’ a new suit o’ armor… Can’t blame her with the way things have been going to hell lately.” She pauses on the stairs and looks back and down in the direction the mare had gone. “But what was with her getting’ all flushed about it though? Embarrassed to ask or somethin’?” She shrugs and continues on. “Oh well, I’ll figure it out later.

As she emerges onto the roof of Megamart, she sees a pair of mares not far from the entrance hoof wrestling. Judging by their physique and attire, she’s pretty sure they’re guardsponies for the caravans. As she’s turning to head towards her private crate, what amounts to her home like many of the other merchants here, the two mares look over at her. The sudden movement makes Patches look over at them as she feels the stares directed at her.

And a split second later both mares develop the same cheesy grin that she’s been getting subjected to since she left her booth tonight.

Patches rolls her eyes and starts trotting away faster as she shakes her head. She’s going to have to ask someone about this tomorrow. For sure. This can’t be a coincidence. She knows there’s got to be something going on, but she’s too tired to deal with it tonight.

As she’s approaching her metal crate, she slows as she sees a light coming from the inside shining out of a couple cracks and holes in the sheet metal. Very faint light, but very noticeable considering how dark it is now. “Shit, did I forget to turn a lamp off this mornin’?”

She opens the door, which groans with a metallic squeak. And she stops as she sees the cloth curtain she has set up just inside the door. She pauses because she knows for a fact that she’d moved it out of the way and left it open when she left this morning. But, here it is, closed and doing a modest job of providing privacy inside.

But before she gets a chance to say anything, a noise from the inside draws her immediate attention.

“Eeeeh heh heh heeeh…” the unintelligible voice groans with a giggle from beyond the curtain.

Patches scowls as she takes in a deep puff from her cigarette, causing the ember at the end to flare up red and give an excellent visual for the spontaneous rage that’s sprouted up within her at the realization that somepony was in her room.

Her horn flares as she steps in, and the cloth curtain gets thrown back by her magic, as she starts yelling, “Who’s-” but she stops as the curtain is yanked back and the perpetrator is revealed. But, what has more to do with her sudden silence is the unmistakable whiff of what gets wafted into her face from yanking the curtain back and accidentally using it as a fan to circulate the air. She takes a side step, as the smell’s rather overpowering, and she tries to fan it away from her face. “Gah! Smells like sex in here!”

Indeed the smell is so powerful she feels like it’s actually thickened the air like some type of fog.

She props the door to her crate open, and starts using the curtain to fan and vent the miasma with her levitation magic as she looks down at the obvious cause of the reek. Although the anger’s gone and has been replaced with straight confusion. “Dandy!? What the hell!?”

Dandy lays sprawled out on the makeshift bed, belly down, with her head turned to the side and still giggling here and there as she drools lightly. “Ehhh… hehehe… Hiiii Patcheeeeees… Heh… hehehe…”

Patches keeps fanning the room, doing the best she can even though the place is rather small and without any other bigger holes to bring in fresh air through. “I said you could use my room when you really needed, but what the hell is this?! What happened to you?!”

Dandy giggles some more, then a shiver crosses her pelt starting at her shoulders and working its way down to her tail. “Heh… I… I don’t know…” She rocks her head ever so slightly, weakly at that, and looks up at Patches. “I don’t know what he did to me… But… I’m exhausted… I’m spent… I can’t move…” She giggles a bit weakly as she looks at Patches with her eyes barely open and drool escapes her mouth. “I think I might die… but I think I’m okay with that… heh… hehehe…”

Patches smirks and finally walks in as she comments, “I haven’t seen you like this since you got that big bounty las’ year, and spent the whole thing in Flank.”

Dandy giggles as she looks over at Patches. “Oh… this is better… sooo much better…”

Patches walks over and lies down on the bed next to Dandy, propping her head up with a hoof as she looks Dandy in the eye. “Oh? How so?” She looks her over as she says, “Besides, your sweat already seems to be dryin’, but you still seem to be breathin’ heavy…”

Dandy turns her head to face Patches as she giggles. “He… he just drained me… I don’t know how…” She tries to lift a forehoof to point at her head, but it shakes a bunch from the futile effort before flopping back down. “He did something to my h-h-horn!” She gasps at the thought and her buddy shudders. “Felt like he sucked the magic right out of my horn… I’m spent.” She giggles. “Magic’s so weak now I was barely able to lift a bottle of water to drink from…”

Patches eyes go wide as she asks, “Wait, you’re almos’ burnt out?! From a hornjob?!”

“Spent… I’m spent…” She giggles and smooshes herself into the bed a bit as she groans and closes her eyes. “In all of the best ways possible…” She opens an eye and says softly, “I… I just needa rest a bit… Then I can go… I… I just can’t move… now…”

“Oh?” Patches asks with a grin.

“Uh huh… I’m too weak.”

Patches grins as she leans in. “Oh. If that’s the case…” She floats her cigarette out of her mouth and puts it out into an ashtray nearby as she leans over and gives Dandy a kiss right below the ear before she whispers into it, “I could totally take advantage and punish you for wreckin’ my room and getting’ it all smelly. Hmmmm?”

“Noooo… I’ll die,” Dandy moans. A shiver travels down her whole body as Patches gently nibbles on one of her ears. “Murder… it’ll be murder… I’ll die…”

Patches giggles as she says, “Oh, look at you, already leanin’ into it…”

Dandy moans, “Can I have a raincheck? I’ll pay you back… promise…”

Patches stretches out her legs, wraps them around Dandy, and gently pulls her in. “Nuh uh, I needa pay you back for this nonsense.”

“Awwww,” Dandy groans as she gets physically manipulated to lie onto her side, with her back towards Patches. But she can’t help but smile as Patches wraps her up in her legs and she gets turned into the little spoon for a very welcome cuddle session. After they’ve been laying down for a bit, Dandy lifts her head just enough to ask, “So… are you gonna kill me?”

Patches smirks as she stares at the side of Dandy’s face. “Are you bein’ hopeful about it, or…?”

Dandy smiles weakly, then slowly scoots back into Patches a bit more. “I’m tired…”

Patches lets out a sigh as she relaxes. “Me too.”

Dandy asks softly, “Talk about it tomorrow?”

“Better believe it, filly.”

Dandy smiles and relaxes to the point of practically becoming a fluid as she goes entirely limp.

Patches uses her magic, turns off the small lantern that’s still on, and then locks the door to her crate. All while keeping Dandy wrapped up in her hooves. As she’s settling back down she asks quietly, “What did he do to you?” and then she giggles as she feels Dandy’s entire body shiver at the thought of it. “That good huh?”

Dandy grins as she says softly, “Totally worth the risk of death… totally…”

“You’re cleanin’ my room tomorrow,” Patches says flatly as she quickly starts dozing off.

Dandy lets out a groan before she waves a hoof limply. “Fair… that’s fair…”

Footnote:

Author's Note

Reminder about the half chapters: they can be skipped and you lose nothing from the main story, but they do provide extra information and clarity to bits. In THIS case, it helps the reader straighten out a few things that has been mixed up with the characters in verse. This short chapter also gives a bit of a hint of what ACTUALLY changed with Gearing, whether he realizes it or not.

81 Sowing Seeds of Chaos

Gearing sits in the dark tending to a small hot plate that has a tin can sitting on top of it simmering at a low temperature. The building he’s on top of is practically falling down all around him. In fact, it’s mostly fallen down already. He’s just on a section of the roof with a sturdy enough pillar under it that he’s fine. The wall built all the way around the roof’s edge to help with rain water control makes for an excellent spot to hide behind. And he follows a strict light discipline. The hot plate’s lights have all been covered up with various debris and cardboard, and the whole thing is sitting inside of a crate to keep any glow from being seen from anyone at ground level far below. He doesn’t particularly care about those above seeing him. If a pegasus comes down for a chat, he’ll have plenty to say to them.

Like how Bonesaw had chased him off, yet again, but did give him a good lead on where a nest of scorpions were around Megamart that folks kept running into. And Gearing found them. The whole not-so-little monster family had taken up residence in a large drainage pipe and a few of them were always out and about and terrorizing those that would walk down the road. There were a dozen of them, which, given the glands he was able to successfully harvest from them, would complete Bonesaw’s order.

But, like a lot of things Gearing has done recently, and since meeting the older looking buck, Gearing’s going to end up disappointing and annoying him further by not completing the order.

In fact, Gearing’s still debating on turning in any of these glades at all.

He’s already used four of them to give himself a nice supply of forty doses of what he’s wanting to make. The glades are particularly big, compared to what he’s used to, and it took him a bit of time to narrow down the exact best ratio for the doses. One whole glade was lost to experimentation. So he still has seven left, which he could give to Bonesaw to make the antivenoms he wants to make. But, at the same time, that seems like such a waste to him. Especially considering Bonesaw had made him aware that they can be lethal with only one or two stings, so the potency of the venom contained within the glands hasn’t been reduced at all. It’s actually been increased if anything. But the volume each gland contains has unquestionably been increased. In Gearing’s opinion, it shouldn’t take that much to make a sufficient cure for the poison. According to Bonesaw, it’s a one to one ratio, and that just seems a bit fishy to Gearing considering how big these things are. Either that or some level of incompetence, or working with a recipe that was never optimized. He’s pretty sure if he really put his mind to it, and with the right equipment, he could probably get a couple dozen antivenoms from just one gland of this size. The only reason he’s getting only a fraction of that for his own purposes, is because he’s doing something else with a bit more malice behind it.

But, as he’s working, and thinking, he regularly leans over to the side and looks through the scope of his rifle that he has set up and pointed off into the distance. It’s dark, so it’s hard to see anything really, but that area does have a few lights here and there. A few burning fires and lanterns help illuminate other areas sporadically. There are still a few ponies active, despite it being this time of night. But Gearing keeps a close watch on the area around those fires to make sure that there’s no big movements or signs of alarm. Because that is what he’s worried about.

Because according to Magnolia, that site of an old small mining company is where Red Eye’s forces have established a small foothold in Hoofington. And, more importantly, that is one of the locations that they gather the slaves that they’ve collected from Hoofington before they send them on down to Equestria proper and, eventually, Fillydephila where they’ll be worked until dead. And the biggest spur that got Gearing to need to do this tonight, is the knowledge that the group of ponies they have now are sentenced to be picked up for their eventual execution via inequine treatment and being worked to death. Tomorrow. So he only has a matter of hours to work with to get this plan of his kicked off. The window of opportunity is tight, but he’s sure he can do it.

He has spotted a couple ponies moving about down there at the small complex, but he’s not sure the exact number currently in the camp. With it getting well into the evening, he’s sure at least a few will be going to bed soon. He has to do this tonight, and before the sun rises. Because for his plan to work, he’s going to have to have this done, and settled, with the soon to be freed slaves so far gone from here no one will know they were ever here. And that’s a cornerstone for his whole plan.

After repeated rounds of simmering, and mixing a variety of ingredients, he strains out the concoction into a clean jar and lets it sit to cool. But, before it’s completely cooled off, he starts filling his tiny darts. The first ones he fills gets loaded straight into Snakebite’s five round internal magazine. He could have made a bigger one, but he didn’t want to risk having a lot of any one kind of toxin in it at once. The next grouping gets carefully put into an ammo belt he has wrapped tightly around the fabric covering his right foreleg so he can pull them out, load them, and use them as quickly as he can. The remaining twenty get put into their dedicated foam lined Mint-als tin for later possible use. He sucks up the rest of the dregs from the bottom of the jar with a syringe, caps it, and stores it for some as of yet undecided purpose. Maybe he’ll find someone that’ll need a bigger dose. Maybe he’ll load up a few more darts. He doesn’t know, but there’s no point in wasting it.

However, with that finished, and the night in full swing, he decides it’s time to pay his new friends a visit. So he shuts off the hot plate, grabs his rifle, and takes to the air.

He had done a higher level sweep when he first swung by to try and make sure this was the right place. He didn’t want to ambush innocent ponies in the middle of the night. But the cages set around the central building, with ponies inside of them, pretty much put any of those kinds of worries to rest.

The central building isn’t nearly as big as some other commercial operations. It looks like a giant barn made of sheet metal, but with tracks leading up to the doors in the front side that seem to take up the entire wall. There’s a few windows lined up in rows just below the lip of the roof on all sides, but beyond that, and the one pony sized door on the wall to the right of the giant front doors, there’s nothing to really see with it. All around the building are a variety of shipping containers in various stages of rusting. But the real boundaries seem to be the fencing that delineated where this company stopped and where other lands began. But, even so, it’s not particularly big by Gearing’s estimations. There’s a huge pile of gravel and rocky debris on the northwest side, pushing up against the fences and threatening to break them. Even in the dark he can see the various ancient machinery scattered around the complex. But, from the lighting, and a few items he can see, it seems like there’s a container or two being used as living quarters. Which, given their size, could substantially increase the number of hostiles he has to deal with.

Then there’s his true goal. On both sides of the main building, but a distance away from it, are the slave cages. There are nine in total with three on each side of the main building, except the side with the tracks, and clustered together. But for some reason the majority of the ponies are on the east side, with only two, judging by the view from Gearing’s scope, on the west side and in a single cage. The rest of the cages are empty.

Which gives Gearing a nice visual on Red Eye’s apparent expectations versus reality. And it makes him smile because he’s intending on making the gap far worse.

He sweeps over slowly and silently, doing a circle over the main building as he keeps an eye on his EFS before he falls back to the company’s water tower set up near the railroad tracks that lead up to the building. The ladder had fallen away long ago from a sky wagon crashing into it. So getting up here would be particularly hard for any of the earth bound creatures. But it does give him a great vantage point to look down at the couple figures patrolling around the central building.

Near the corners of the central building’s front a pair of standards hanging down from wooden frames declares to all who approach that this area has been claimed by Red Eye’s forces. And Gearing makes a point of paying careful attention to both it, and the tan pony walking around out front.

‘Is that supposed to be a mechanical iris or an eye or what? I mean, I’m trying not to take offense here… but… too late… eyes don’t normally look like that and that’s too close to mine for me to be comfortable,’ The little blue pegasus grumps with his right eye twitching, along with the eyebrow, and his forehooves tightly folded across his chest. ‘Then there’s that tan bozo marching around like he owns the place. Ooohhh so scary with his black outfit with the red decorations. So edgy. I don’t know where they got it, or made it, but that looks like crap… Probably even pieced together, and not in a good way either. In fact the only decent thing that asshole has is his carbine and he probably stole that!’

Gearing can’t help the snotty thoughts as he glares down at the patrolling buck. But he manages only a sneer of distaste instead of actually laughing. The armor looks rather similar to what he’s currently wearing. With lots of extra fabric but pieces here and there sticking out to explain the bulk. He’s not sure how effective it would be against actual weapons fire, but he’s sure it’d still be better than what normal raiders run around in. So, they have that going for them at least. And then there’s that helmet cowl thing the pony is wearing. Almost like someone took a hoofball helmet, glued some fabric to the inside, and poked holes for eyes. But, instead of simply looking through the eyeholes, they’re wearing goggles too. So the whole thing covers his muzzle entirely. But it does so looking more like a sack and less like a gasmask.

And then, oddly enough, the tan pony looks around quickly as if they’re trying to see if anyone’s looking, and then they start walking around the side of the building and a moment later disappears from Gearing’s line of sight. This draws a frown from Gearing as the pony is now out of view and he hasn’t been able to figure out what’s up with that building. There are rusted conveyors and carts all over the place. But he doesn’t see the actual mine. His only thought of the matter is that this is either a distribution hub, or the mine entrance is inside that building itself. Which brings up a slew of other problems to Gearing’s mind. Because when he’d flown closer, his EFS lit up like a Hearth Warming log. There are a lot of hostiles in the camp, and judging by what he can tell from his EFS, the vast majority of them aren’t on the surface. Which means either they have a sizable force underground, and these are just the patrol guards, or there’s something else going on.

With no one else directly in sight, Gearing zips over to the building, comes around the side, and grabs hold of the side of the building as he clings to the wall just under the roof lip and tries his best to meld into the corner under the eave as he glances in through a broken window.

There’s not much in the way of light on the inside. And, in fact, this area looks hardly used at all. Despite it being the most solidly put together. There’s a table with a radio on it, and a couple chairs, but that’s it. It looks more like a sometimes used break room, or at worst a guard station. The rest of the interior has a few crates and boxes here and there, but other than that it’s mostly empty. The train tracks do actually come into the building through the main door, but they stop half way through the building. And there are no carts on it at all. The only thing of note is the makeshift door that’s been welded and pieced together from sheet metal and multiple layers of fencing and grates. A door which is currently being held closed with a combination of cross beam rods and a couple locks.

As Gearing is watching, the tan buck stares at the gate to the restricted section and then slowly looks around to make sure no one’s watching again. But, a second later, he walks up to the grate and starts tapping on the metal with a booted forehoof.

Instantly hissing and growling comes from beyond the barricaded door. And while Gearing’s eyes go wide at the very recognizable inequine howl that comes up from deep echoey places beyond that door, the tan buck doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. Not even when a ghoul crashes against the metal, and starts thrashing against it as it snaps its jaws and launches spittle in the tan buck’s direction.

A moment later another guard comes in through the side door, wearing the same kind of armor as the first, and runs over as he says in a loud whisper, “The hell are you doing, Stubs?! Don’t agitate them!”

The tan buck looks over at him and casually waves towards the door as it barely shakes from the impacts. “It’s fine. Look. They can’t get through. They’re too stupid… So why do we got to put up with this? Just a couple of us could go in there, and clean the place out, and we wouldn’t have to deal with the noise anymore!”

The other buck slaps a hoof over his face before he groans. “Because Flapjack said so, that's why. And I’m not going to go and stick my nose in his business.”

The tan buck waves his hoof as he says, “I’m just saying. If I was in charge, we’d have cleaned that out. We wouldn’t have to worry about them. And we’d have a much better place to sleep at night. Especially when it rains… Which is like all the time in this fucking area.”

“Yeah, well, Flapjack ain’t worrying about it,” the other buck says with a dismissive shrug.

“Of course not, because he gets to sleep in that nice shipping container, all to himself, while the rest of us just have to suffer with whatever we can find. I joined up with Red Eye’s army to get a better life, not worse. Whatever happened to the future of Equestria bit?”

“Better not let Flapjack, or any of the others hear that kind of talk, or you might end up with a collar on yourself,” the other buck warns.

The tan buck lets out a half-amused half-disgusted snort. “I’m just annoyed by this. Babysitting new volunteers is bad enough. But sitting on our hooves when there’s a problem right here we can solve is so much worse. I mean… what kind of equipment could still be down there? We don’t know. And we’ll never know as long as all we do is keep the door sealed,” the tan buck grumbles as he waves a hoof at the door.

“Well get ready to be more annoyed, because Flapjack sent me to tell you that your shit lasts ‘til sun up. You’re not getting relieved because he needs the others to help him later and doesn’t want them falling asleep on the job when the transfer happens.”

“Just. My. Fucking. Luck,” the tan buck groans as he hangs his head.

“You need anything?” the other buck asks.

“An end to this stupid shit would be nice,” the tan buck replies bitterly.

“Hey, look at it this way, maybe ole Flapjacks will get transferred out and we’ll get someone new… Can’t possibly be worse than him, right?”

The tan buck looks over at him and shakes his head. “Don’t say that shit, things can always get worse!”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head giggles before he says, ‘Look, a buck after our own heart… It’s like he knows we’re here.’

The other buck waves him over and then the two start leaving as he says, “Ain’t that the truth! Well, come on, let’s get out of here. I gotta get back to my own route before I get skinned.”

Gearing watches them slowly leave, and a grin crosses his muzzle as he looks back over at the reinforced gate that’d acting as a barricade. The ghoul inside rears up and bangs on the gate a few more times before it presses its head into the grates where it can see through and directs its amber glowing eye in the direction of the door the two have just left through. Then it rears up and beats on the door viciously for a few seconds before settling down and walking away from it as the noises from deeper in calm down as well.

‘So… Now we have two names to work with, and a herd of ghouls just waiting to tear the bastards apart… Oooh I’m smelling opportunity here!’ The little blue pegasus in his head rubs his forehooves together greedily as he grins.

And that also means that the extra red I saw... wasn’t reinforcements, or the main force even, but it’s a crap ton of ghouls trapped under this building instead, Gearing replies

‘Which means’ there’s only six of them…’ the little blue pegasus chimes in.

And just think… I spent all that time making dozens of doses… Gearing comments with a smirk.

‘You get the feeling we’re over prepared and overdressed?’ the little blue pegasus says with a massive grin.

And in unison they say, ‘No,’ as Gearing breaks off from his bat-like perch on the side of the building and swings around.

The tan buck had gone back around front to his normal spot walking around, diverging from the other buck as soon as they stepped outside of the door. As soon the other buck is around the side of the building, with the other red markers out of sight, Gearing crawls over the roof of the main building, lines up his angle with Snakebite after attaching the longer barrel, and quickly bulls the trigger as soon as he sees a clear line to his target.

The buck jumps,looks to the side, and he reaches up towards his neck with his foreleg, as he asks, “Whath death?” Then his front end falls down causing him to face plant before his hind legs slop over limply. All together it looks like a rather painful way to lie down.

Gearing zips off to the side where he sees someone going into a little area that is setup for outdoor sleeping. The roof, as it is, is nothing more than fabric setup over the shipping containers lean-to style. And as Gearing’s watching he notes the other two red dots are ponies already asleep -a mare unicorn and an earth pony buck respectfully- and the mare who just entered is headed towards the cot at the end of the row.

Gearing quickly zips in behind her silently, landing with a flutter just outside of the opening to the sleeping area before stepping in. He points Snakebite at the still standing mare as he nips out a dart from the ammo belt on his foreleg. He leans over and gives the sleeping unicorn mare a kiss right on the flank, as gentle as a butterfly. But leaves the dart imbedded as he quickly pulls away. He pulls out another one, and sneaks up behind the last mare, but leans over and kisses the buck on his neck. Again, leaving the dart right in place. But the buck jerks slightly and his mouth opens as he wasn’t entirely asleep yet. Gearing quickly leans down on him, and after a quick kick, that barely does more than tink on the cot’s frame, the buck’s movement and spasming stops. But his eyes are wide open and full of fright as he stares right at Gearing but with no focus to them.

Gearing sneaks up behind the last mare, as she’s shaking out of her armor. And, as she’s turning around she looks up and gives herself a vigorous shake as she enjoys being free from all of that equipment. But her eyes go wide as she feels a stinging prick, like a mosquito bite, nip her right under her chin on her neck. She looks down, and her eyes widen as she sees Gearing standing there squatted low with the rifle pointed right at her. And beyond Gearing she can see the one buck staring at the two with unabashed terror in his eyes as he seems to beg her to do something.

But it’s already too late.

Especially as Gearing hops forward and grabs hold of her muzzle with his wings. Keeping her muzzle shut as she tries to scream, even as weak of an attempt as it is. But the fast acting poison quickly goes through its rounds of numbing and then paralyzing her as well. Gearing slips forward and gently holds her in his hooves, as her hind legs give out a couple weak spastic kicks and fight with the sudden but impotent rush of adrenaline. And a moment later she’s held up by nothing more than Gearing’s gentle embrace. He carefully picks her up, turns, and plants her in the cot she was standing near. As she and the stallion watch, he carefully tucks her into bed, and then covers both of their heads with the sheets so that no one will notice their terrified looking eyes.

Gearing turns away and grins as he quietly says, “Sleep well…”

He slowly trots away from the shared sleeping area as he disconnects the barrel from Snakebite and puts it into its reserve mount along the weapon’s side. “Four down, two to go…” He vectors towards the area of the rundown compound with the shipping crates, guided by a few lights, and where the ranting guards had inadvertently promised their leader was. And, as typically happens when the information comes from eavesdropping, the information appears true as he sees a single red dot among the shipping crates and the added light. As he’s getting closer, he keeps his eyes moving around and focused on looking for anything that could trip his plans up. And he can’t help but smirk as he sees some low hung tin cans set up as some kind of early warning against intrusion crisscrossed over the path to the shipping container opening. And as he’s almost upon them he doesn’t even slow his stride as he unfurls his wings, casually flaps them a few times as he tucks his legs in, and simply floats over each of the strings until he’s at the entrance. That might work for some dumb animals, or maybe even ghouls, but it’s not going to work on someone whose profession is paranoia.

On both sides of the door, if that’s what one would want to call the hanging cloth that separates the inside of the shipping container from the rest of the world, hangs another pair of the Red Eye’s army standard, gently flapping in the wasteland breeze. Gearing has to try extra hard not to simply rip them down and do an improv tap dance routine on them. And the only thing that’s helping Gearing is the fact that he knows for his plan to work, he can’t just wreck the place like that. Not even with as much as he really wants to. He slips up to the cloth divider and stops as he hears a voice coming from the inside.

A snotty sounding buck that seems to elongate his enunciation to absurd levels comments, “… and it is with the greatest of frustration I must report that Paradise has failed to meet expectations. Once again! We, my subordinates and I, have done all that we can with what resources we have here to try and make up for their blunders, but I’m afraid even that is not enough. I humbly request more resources. More ponies to command, so that I might begin collecting more volunteers from the local population. And it is of my opinion that the agreement with Paradise be amended. For if they cannot meet our needs, we should look elsewhere. And, should that be the case, I would be willing to take on the additional duties to see it done. For the future glory of Equestria. For Red Eye!” There’s a slight pause as the buck hums to himself before he finishes, “Faithfully your humble servant… Commander Pancake.”

A bit of shuffling around later and the stallion’s voice practically giggles, “Between the new volunteers I’ve got and this letter, if I don’t get another promotion I don’t know what it’ll take!”

Gearing dares to peek around the cloth and look into the brightly lit shipping container where a portly grayish-green earth pony stallion stands admiring himself in a full length mirror. And, just beyond the mirror, is an armor stand where a flamboyantly decorated set of armor currently rests. An armor with an immaculate polish job, done by his subordinates, and the Red Eye emblem painted in various spots all over it. And, Gearing has to keep himself from laughing as it looks like the stallion had taken a set of hoofball armor and painted it up to use as some Nightmare Night costume. Just another costume with a lot of other garishly placed unnecessary decorations in Gearing’s opinion.

‘Another bullshit officer just looking for one easy promotion after another… You’d think after two hundred years, and the end of the world, at least that shit would change,’ the little blue pegasus says with a groan as he slaps a hoof over his eyes.

In any century, it seems, greedy and self centered asses end up in positions of power… somehow… Gearing mentally grumbles. But then his muzzle splits into a wide grin as he mentally adds, Speaking of asses…

Gearing raises Snakebite up around the fabric, just barely poking the end of the barrel inside, and points it at the hind end of the apparent leader. He gently squeezes the trigger before quickly withdrawing Snakebite and readying another shot.

The buck keeps staring into the mirror, then frowns lightly as he snaps his tail in the direction of the dart sticking out of his right cheek. “Infernal insects! I should inquire with the Society if they hath anytheeng tooth… Whatha?” The buck looks behind himself and his head lolls down as he sees his hind legs have splayed out. His eyes go wide as he seems himself doing what should be a very uncomfortable split as his rear slowly lowers to the ground. But unlike how this might normally occur, his legs practically jut out perpendicular to his body like his hind hooves just had a disagreement and are trying to get away from each other as fast as they can. But, before that can even register, the rest of him flops down as his forelegs seem to simply resign on the spot. The whole body mutiny causes his considerable bulk to splat onto the bottom of the shipping container.

Gearing steps in and looks at the grayish green stallion as he lies on the floor in a very uncomfortable position while uncontrollably drooling onto the floor. Gearing walks over, as Pancake stares right at him but with his eyes unfocused, and pulls the dart out of Pancake’s rear. Then he reaches up and sticks it back in, but in the side of Pancake’s neck. “See, that’s what happens when you’re that fat… it takes longer to circulate. This’ll do a better job of keeping it circulating.” He narrows his eyes as his voice turns cold and menacing. “Given your gut, and the rampant desperate scarcity of food, I can only imagine the fucked up shit you do and how much you exploit others for your own personal gain… You just lay there; I’ll be back for you in a few.”

Once outside he flies over the tin cans, and heads in a path that circumvents the cages, but takes him to the one remaining red dot on the surface. Again he zips over the central building, avoiding all of the lights below, before dropping back down to the ground near the corner of the building. The tan buck had just walked from over here, so as Gearing peeks around the corner, he can see the dejected looking buck walking away at a slow pace just about a dozen yards away. He raises Snakebite, with it still in its snub-nosed configuration, and grins as he takes his final shot.

Instantly Stubs rears up as he lets out a heartfelt scream of pain and surprise, and as soon as his forelegs come back down from his surprised jump, he bucks out behind himself blindly. But while his hind legs do kick out, they don’t retract properly, and he slaps onto the ground as his rump is no longer supported. But as much as it must have hurt to unintentionally belly flop, that’s apparently not even the biggest of his concerns. He tries to crawl away with his forelegs, but they just flop around with increasingly impotent wiggles. But his scream doesn’t end. Even as his head flops down onto its side and he can no longer move, his muzzle keeps the same horrified open position. And as long as that might have seemed to have taken from his point of view, it was, in reality, measured in fractions of a second. But still, he was still reacting to the sudden and rampant pain coming from his hind end before he had even registered that it had already gone numb.

Gearing sheepishly smiles as he’s walking up to the downed tan buck. “Awww… damn… I am so… so sorry for that… so sorry. Right in the chocolate starfish… Oof!”

The little blue pegasus nods as he scrunches up his muzzle to the side. ‘That has got to hoit!’

Gearing smiles as he looks down at the buck. “You know, I hate to waste these things, but, really… that was my bad. Obviously I need to get more practice with this without its barrel extender.” He pulls another dart out from the ammo belt on his foreleg, and quickly jabs Stubs in the neck with it, before reaching down with a wing and removing the offending dart that’s buried just south of the tan buck’s tail. Gearing holds it up and frowns as he says, “An extra dirty dirty needle… well… shit…”

‘Literally,’ the little blue pegasus snickers.

Gearing looks down at the buck and grins as he says, “You just hang out here. I’ll be back to make you comfortable in a bit.”

‘Keep an eye on the clock, that’s pretty long lasting but not forever,’ the little blue pegasus reminds him as Gearing is walking away. He quickly stows his equipment and then takes off into the air. He zips over the central building where the mine access is being secured, and curves over towards the cages that are mostly empty. He lands on a shipping crate and peeks over the edge as he looks into the one cage on this side that has the pair of ponies in it. Gearing pulls out his rifle, and uses the scope to get a closer look into the cage.

Inside is a pair of unicorns. Their horns are easily identifiable as they are huddled up next to each other resting their heads on the other in an attempt to comfort each other. On their horns are magical disruptors to prevent them from trying anything. And the bomb collars around their necks help ensure their cooperation further.

Gearing sweeps side to side slowly as he looks around and lets out a sigh. As he’s confirming the general line of sights on this side of the compound, the little pegasus in his head says softly, ‘This… is the part of the plan I hate…’

Gearing groans as he closes his eyes and looks down. He holds his head between his forelegs for a few moments before he hops up and takes flight, but makes sure he stays out of sight of the cage with the two unicorns inside. After he gets out of their line of sight, he makes a beeline for the next set of cages where he’d seen others huddled inside in the night. And as quiet as a shadow he swoops in and lands near the welded cages as he looks around. As he’s walking up to the cages he can’t help but notice the reek. They’ve obviously been in these cages for a couple days, and they’ve had to stay in the cages with their own filth. Not being absolute idiots, they’ve taken to using a back corner to relieve themselves. But, regardless, the reek is everywhere and Gearing can’t understand how they aren’t physically ill from it. But then his question is answered as he sees a couple spatters outside of the cage that let him know a few of them have ended up hurling from the smell alone.

He looks the two cages over and quickly does a headcount of the ponies inside. Six in one cage, four in another. There are unicorns and earth ponies mixed in, of various ages including a young filly. Gearing reaches in through the bars and taps on the flank of one of the older stallions and gives him a nudge.

“Hey, psst… wake up,” Gearing whispers loudly.

The stallion jerks from the contact but then lays his head back down without even looking as he groans, “You assholes can at least let me sleep…”

“Wake up… and get the others up, but be quiet,” Gearing whispers again as he nudges his side.

“You really going to make us walk all night, without any sleep, after that long spiel about being on our best behavior for Red Eye that you gave us yesterday?” a mare next to him asks with a yawn. “Come on, we can’t move if we’re falling asleep on our hooves…”

“I’m not from Red Eye,” Gearing says and instantly every head in the cage jumps up to look at him. Instantly Gearing puts a hoof to his lips as he shushes them before they can even say anything. “Quiet; stay quiet!”

They start slowly getting up and the buck asks, “You busting us out of here?”

“You have the keys?” the mare from before asks.

“Forget the keys, how about the detonator for these collars?” asks the young filly as she doesn’t even bother getting up as she looks at Gearing skeptically.

Gearing goes over to the next cage and quickly gets them up and motions them all to get as close to the bars as they possibly can. He hops back and forth as he asks, “First, I need to know, who all knows that you’ve been captured? Anypony? Anycreature at all? Besides Paradise and the Red Eyes forces here?” He spins around as he asks, “Did anyone you know, know you got captured?”

“Why’s that matter if you’re letting us out?” the annoyed stallion from before asks.

“It matters. A lot.” Gearing says sharply.

The four in the one cage shake their heads as the older mare comments, “Not us. They nabbed all of us at once. Nopony else saw. That’s probably how they got away with it.”

The young filly walks up to the cage and stares at Gearing for a moment as she tries to figure him out. But then she lets out a sigh and hangs her head as she says, “Me…”

Gearing hops over and looks at her as he asks, “Who? How? Why?”

She sits down and stares at him for a few moments before she says, “My little sister. Slavers cornered us, or tried to, but she crawled into a sewer pipe and hid while they chased after me. I kept yelling for her to run but… we had a system… That was just to make the slavers think they were catching up to both of us.” She shrugs. “I tripped over a damn bit of wire sticking out of the ground and, boom, they had me…” She looks off to the side as she says, “Kicked the shit out of me for not giving up my sister’s location… but at least she got away.”

“And you’re sure she got away?” Gearing asks as he leans towards her.

“Yeah… I’m sure… otherwise we’d have seen each other as we were being marched off to Paradise.” She lets out a sigh before she looks up at Gearing and asks miserably, “So that means you’re not going to let me out, right? Because word’ll get out? I mean… that’s fair I guess…” She gives him a sad smile as she says, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them anything… I’ll just say I slept through the whole thing…” She flops down, folds her forelegs, and rests her chin on them as she closes her eyes. “So I might as well at least get some shuteye… make it partially true at least…”

Gearing reaches in and taps her hoof as he says, “No, that’s not it,” When she opens her eyes he says, “I need you to do something for me.” He gives her hoof an encouraging shake before he says, “I’m getting you out of here, all of you, but I need you, specifically, to do something for me.”

She lifts her head up and the hope she’d tried so hard to suppress becomes evident for a split second across her face before she asks suspiciously, “What?”

“I need you to make two things reality…” Gearing says flatly.

She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

Gearing looks her in the eye as he says, “It’s simple. I’m going to tell you something… and you are going to remember it. And what I need you to do is to practice and think about it soooo much…. That when anyone asks you, that’s your instinctual reaction… I need you to repeat this so often, that it becomes the truth.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and says, “When anyone, anypony, anycreature, ever asks you about tonight. Or about being captured. Deny it. Okay? I need you to deny being captured.” He looks up at the others and says, “And that applies to everyone else here as well.” Then he looks at her and says, “If anyone asks where you’ve been, tell them you were running and hiding from slavers and it took you forever to get away from them. That they just wouldn’t leave you alone. But that you eventually got away and made a break for it. Understand?”

She nods as she tries to think it over. “Yeah… but… I don’t get it… and what’s the second thing?”

Gearing grabs her hoof and demands her attention. And after the pair have locked eyes he adds, “Your sister is going to know better. Or at least question it. So, in private… here is the second lie you have to make true. Tell her that you were captured by the slavers. But on the way back to Paradise a gold armored pony attacked, killed the slavers, and set you free. Tell her that he asked you to be quiet about it, so nopony knows he’s out hunting slavers. And that if it’s ever found out, they might come after them. And both of you as well. So that both of you have to keep it a secret and pretend it never happened.”

She smirks as she says, “A gold armored buck? Somepony’s been reading too many comic books. That’s just ridiculous. Nopony’s going to believe that…”

Gearing grins at her under his mask as he says, “Yeah… it’s a bit ridiculous…” He reaches up and pushes the cowl back on his head and rotates his head side to side so she can see the shining brass underneath it in the light provided by the fireplaces not far away. And even though the fires are far enough away that their illumination doesn’t really reach him, it’s more then enough to create a golden reflection off his muzzle and head. At least where the bodysuit isn’t covering. Her mouth drops, her eyes shoot wide open, and then he starts covering back up as he says “Isn’t it? But, don’t worry, there’s enough that have seen me during the day that even if that gets out, they’ll know exactly who it was.”

“Aren’t you worried about reprisals?” the stallion asks as he looks around. “You’re really stepping in it with this.”

Gearing looks up at them, then around at all of the others as he says, “Which is why… the price of your freedom, is to make the same lie reality that I told her. I need you, each and every one of you, to deny ever being here. Deny being caught. Deny being turned over to Red Eye’s forces. It doesn’t matter what happens or what you hear. I need you all to forget this entire thing ever happened.”

An older mare shivers as she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget something so horrible happened…”

Gearing looks at her and smiles as he says, “Change your frame of mind then… because as bad as whatever you’ve faced so far has been, you know where they were going to take you is even worse, right?” The mare’s eyes go wide before she rapidly nods. So Gearing continues, “So simply realize this is your reprieve. Your second chance. Focus on the future you’re going to have, full of possibilities, instead of the horrible death you know you’d face otherwise. If nothing else, maybe that’ll help your brain want to avoid thinking about it.”

The older stallion with the group of four eagerly nods as he says in a loud whisper, “If that’s the price of getting out of here, count me in! I wouldn’t want the buck that saved my life getting targeted anyway, so that’s a no brainer. I give you my word I’ll never mention you, Paradise, this place, or any of that to anyone.”

“Alright, well, come on, I’ll get these collars off, then I’ll lead you all out to a safe place,” Gearing says as he quickly looks between the two cages and tries to catch as much eye contact as he can. “And don’t try running off. I haven’t checked the whole area. And if I let you out of here, and you run the wrong way, you might trip a mine and blow yourself up… and if you get yourself killed after I’ve gone through all of this to save you I’m going to be very cross with you, understand?”

The macabre humor actually draws a chuckle from a few of the ponies, and a giggle from the young filly, before they genuinely agree.

Gearing beckons the little filly to get closer, then starts looking over the collar closely.

The filly closes her eyes as she groans and whispers, “You sure you know what you’re doing? I’d feel better about this if you just went and got the controls instead of trying to techno wizard this off of me.”

Gearing starts working on it as he asks, “Would it surprise you to know that you’re not the first filly I’ve taken one of these collars off of?”

“Was her head still attached when you were done?” the filly asks bitterly.

“Yeah, otherwise she’d lose it; she’s always losing things,” Gearing says with a chuckle. And, as the filly’s eyes are clamping tighter by the second, he slips the now deactivated collar off of her neck, closes it back up, and sets it on top of her head like a strange tiara. “I’m not one for fashion, but I do think it makes a better tiara than a necklace.”

The filly opens her eyes and looks up, then balks and jumps back away from it, smacking it off her head as she yelps, “What you trying to do, blow up my noggin?”

Gearing reaches in, grabs it, and quickly pockets it into one of his bags as he says nonchalantly, “It’s off. It won’t blow until it’s reactivated.”

The filly reaches up and feels her neck then flops down as she continuously rubs it and looks at her fellow captives. She looks at the older mare next to her and whispers with tears in her eyes, “Is this real? Is this really happenin’?”

The matronly mare smiles and wraps a foreleg around her, giving her a hug as she whispers back, “Looks like it.”

Gearing waves everyone to the bars again as he whispers, “You’ll have plenty of time to revel in your new found freedom later, I promise, but we’re kind of on a time crunch here and I need to get you all far from here before the sun comes up.”

The first stallion he woke up presses against the bars and waves towards himself as he says eagerly, “Say no more! Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it!”

Gearing hops over and gets to work as he replies, “Just stand still, and don’t say anything, or make any noise at all, if you can avoid it.” A split second later, after he notices that the stallion doesn’t even reply as Gearing starts tinkering with the bomb collar, he smiles and quietly comments, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take Gearing long to get the various bombs off of the ponies. The most challenging part of the whole process was actually getting the magical dampener rings off of the unicorns. They weren’t too enthused with him messing with them, but after assuring them that he’s a buck of many talents, and producing a few tools they’ve never even seen before, he manages to get them off as well with some tinkering.

As Gearing is picking the lock on the first cage, he asks, “Show of hooves, how many of you have used the bathroom in here? Don’t really care about pissing, but who has gone number two?” Gearing glances up and then his ears flop down as he mutters, “Great, looks like everyone then.”

The young filly, looking rather abashed, says defensively, “Well you can only hold it for so long before you just gotta, you know!?”

Gearing waves it away with a wing and shakes his head as he says, “Yeah… I know… just more work I have to do for this.” He looks up from the lock and asks, “Is it at least all in that same corner? Except for the vomit out here?” After getting general nods and nopony telling him otherwise he says, “Well, that’s something at least.”

The older mare asks, “Wouldn’t it be better to get the keys?”

The little filly groans as she puts her hooves over her own cheeks, “Please tell me you didn’t get the collars off just to tell us we’re still stuck in here?”

Gearing looks her in the eye, and his smile grows wide as he slowly turns the tumbler and the cage door unlocks. He gently pulls it open a crack as he says, “I didn’t get the collars off just to tell you that you’re still stuck in there.”

The filly runs over to the gate and then looks up at him as she asks with a grin, “You got any other tricks up your sleeves?”

Gearing trots over to the other cage as he says, “Lots.”

The ponies slowly walk out of the cage, but then meander around as a cohesive herd as they obediently wait for Gearing to tell them what to do next. He’s got them this far. And the last thing they want to do is screw up their own chance at freedom by not listening to the one pony that actually seems to have a plan that’s working.

But as Gearing gets to work on the second cage’s lock, the filly asks, “Why were you asking about our poop?”

Gearing keeps his eye on the lock as he mutters, “Because I gotta clean it up and get rid of it. Hide it, toss it in their latrine, or something.” As he’s opening the newly, and quickly, unlocked gate to the cage he looks over at the filly and says softly, “I gotta erase as many traces of your presence here as possible. In case anyone checks.” He motions the group of four out of the cage as he turns and starts walking away. “Follow me everypony. And walk in single file. It’ll make getting rid of your tracks easier for me.”

The filly gets right behind Gearing as he leads the way, with the other nine falling in line and making a living train as Gearing winds through the various rusted equipment in a beeline straight for the fence. As they are passing a broken down excavator the filly asks, “You’re taking this ‘without a trace’ stuff extra serious… Why?”

Gearing hurries over to the ten foot security fence as he says, “I’ll explain a bit more once I get you to the safe house.” He looks behind him and says, “Pass the word, just step up to the fence, and I’ll carry you over. Just stay here. And after I drop you off on the other side, stay where I put you until I say otherwise. Kapeesh?”

The ponies all readily nod, and then their eyes go wide as he rears up, puts his forelegs around the young filly, and takes flight. Because at first they almost don’t see his wings spreading out, given how dark it is and the wing covers he’s wearing, and they almost wonder if he simply jumped the distance or if he’d levitated himself somehow.

As he’s putting the filly down on the other side she hunkers down and covers her face with her hooves as she groans, “I peed a bit. I’m sorry, you scared me.”

Gearing groans as he lets her go and turns around. “Yeah, I know. Well, at least it wasn’t on me.”

He zips over the fence and his next passenger proves to everyone that his limitations are far greater then they’d imagined, as he grabs a portly mare, the biggest of the group, and flies up and over the fence with the same grace and speed he’d done with the filly.

As Gearing is gently setting the older mare down, the young filly hisses at him, “Well ya shoulda warned me you were gonna fly first. It’s not like I’ve flown before!”

Gearing smirks at her as he says, “Don’t worry, that’s the last flight I’ll be taking you on, on this trip.” Then he quickly fetches another pony.

As Gearing’s setting down the buck he’d grabbed, the filly says quickly, “Oh, I don’t really mind it. I kinda liked it after I realized what was happening so if you wanna do that again it’s cool. You just scared me at first SoIPromiseNotToPeeOnYouSorry!”

Gearing doesn’t even bother responding before he fetches the rest of the ponies with quick back and forth zips. Then, after doing another head count, after already making sure he’d brought ten over, he quickly flies to the front of the group and lands as he says, “Alright everyone, follow me. Single file again. I don’t know if there are landmines out here, but I’ve already cleared a path. So just follow me and we’ll all be fine.”

Then he takes off at a fast trot, but regularly looks behind himself to make sure they are all following. After they get a distance away through the low growing dead brush and rubble that he decides to use as a path, he leads them to a stretch of broken asphalt, and then takes off at a full run as he regularly looks over his shoulder to make sure they are keeping it. One crumbling building after another passes them before he stops at the front of a building that’s mostly intact, except its roof had collapsed straight down to the first floor and it looks more like a box made of stone than anything. He waves them in and points towards a room off to the side that still has its roof intact. After doing another quick head count, and making sure his herd of rescuees is still ten strong, he follows the last one in and meets the rest of the ponies.

He quickly clicks on the light from his PipBuck as he says, “Okay, here’s where we’re going to have to split up. I have a map right there that I drew up with the safest route I know of. That’ll take you straight to Megamart. You can either head there and figure out what you want to do, or vector off from there. But please make your way in a way that won’t have you getting nabbed again. Wherever you go is up to you. So you have to figure that out on your own. I’d suggest steering clear of Red Eye’s forces and Usury’s goons. But, beyond that, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

He waves at the metal cabinet that’s currently open behind all of them and says, “I’ve got a bit of food and water in there for you too. But I ask that you wait until you’re at least a couple miles away before you consume it. Or at the very least hold onto your trash.”

He looks them over one at a time, holding eye contact for a few seconds with each of them as he says, “And I cannot possibly overstress how important this is… but… this never happened… you were never caught… you never saw me… and you don’t know where the Red Eye base is… understand?”

There are a few nods of agreement as a few of the ponies actually hug each other and sniffle about having their prayers answered.

But, and while Gearing is trying to ignore the nth ‘Thank Celestia’ from the group, the stallion he’d woken up first asks, “Why are you so set on trying to make this night not exist? You’re like a bona fide hero! Stole us right out from under the noses of those Red Eyes assholes!”

Gearing’s eyes narrow as he grumbles, “Firstly, do not call me that… ever.” And the tone is strong enough that it wipes the grin right off the stallion’s face who quickly nods in agreement. “Secondly, I have plans… Big plans… And they require that you’d never been caught. That Paradise never delivered you…”

“That’s the part I don’t get though; what’s all of that matter?” an older mare asks as she leans over and looks at Gearing. “What’s your real goal with all of this?”

Gearing looks at her and sighs as he just wishes they’d simply go along with it instead of asking so many questions. But, given both curious natures and general distrust of good fortune, he can understand their need for answers. He knows that, truth be told, he would want some as well as this would seem too good to be true if he was on the receiving end of it. He sits down and takes in a deep breath before he says, “I can’t tell you the specifics...” He looks around at them before he clarifies, “I won’t tell you the specifics… Both for your own good and so that my plans don’t get screwed up…”

“Plan? What kinda plan?” the mare asks with unmasked suspicion.

Gearing looks her in the face for a few moments and then says flatly, “I’m working on getting rid of slavers.”

The stallion from the quad group rolls his eyes as he waves his forehoof. “We can see that, and you’re obviously doing better than most… But, what beyond that?”

Gearing shakes his head as he looks at him. “No, I don’t mean ‘these slavers’ or ‘some slavers’ I mean… ‘slavers in general’. The system itself. The whole rotten practice. I’m talking about bringing down the house of cards.”

The young filly’s eyes go wide as her rear hits the ground hard and she asks, “You can’t seriously mean you’re wanting to get rid of all slavers?! By yourself? That’s nuts!”

Gearing looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “Is it? Is it really?” He looks around at all of them as he says, “Why is it strange to want to own the sweat from your own brow instead of some lazy bastard with a bomb around your neck getting fat off of the fruits of your labors while you’re left to die a miserable death?” He shakes his head. “Ponies managed to do it before. With mutual cooperation. For mutual benefit. We can do it again. We just have to work together instead of against one another or at each other’s expense.”

The young filly rolls her eyes as she looks at the older mare next to her and points at Gearing with a hoof. “Great… a freaking idealist… Just what the wasteland needs…”

Gearing looks at her and snaps, “Call me an idealist if you want, but I’m a realist. And the difference is I actually have a plan, and one that not only could work, but is already working. And all of you need to do nothing more than deny you ever got caught.” He shrugs. “At least for a few weeks…” He taps on his muzzle as he gives it some thought. “Yeah… a few weeks should work…A month tops if you can’t bear to wait any longer… But the longer you do hold off the better…”

The little filly raises an eyebrow as she asks, “What happens in the next few weeks?”

Gearing grins at her as he says, “I’m ruining Usury’s life, as a personal favor to Equestria and by explicit request… Going to buck her right off of that slave built throne of hers… While doing as much collateral damage to Red Eye and any other slaver organizations as I can in the process…”

The little filly’s eyes practically sparkle as she asks, “You gonna kill her? Ohhh please say ‘yes’!”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “That part’s yet to be seen. But if I can get the same results that I want with her dead, then she’s radroach chow… But if it has a higher chance of success with her alive, I might just go that route… at least for a while… but only time will tell.” He looks the group over and then says, “But this is far greater than just one pony. It’s more than Usury. It’s more than me. It’s even more than all of us here combined. I know you don’t believe me. But it is. And in the long run we’re talking countless numbers of lives saved.” He takes in a deep breath then lets it out before he says, “But that all depends on all of you… Because, honestly, you could easily screw me over by running straight to Usury, right now, and telling her what I’ve said. Hell, she might actually reward you instead of slapping another bomb collar around your neck. But, if you do, you’ll be directly responsible for this failing, and the lives it’s going to cost into infinity.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m only one buck. I can’t wage a full scale war against such a large force. So, I need your help… in the way of silence…” He puts his forehooves together and asks, “Will you help me help Equestria?”

They all stare at him for a few moments, and then around at the others of their group. And, after a few moments of silence, the portly mare comments, “You know… you didn’t have to go through that big highfalutin speech to get us to keep our mouth shut.” She looks around at the others and smirks as she says, “Fuck Usury, and the slavers. And if you can ream them and blow up their whole house, more power to you. I wish you luck. Really I do. But, and I can’t speak for everypony, but keeping my mouth shut about all this probably helps me out anyway. So I’m not going to say anything… Ever…” She looks over at the young filly and smiles as she says, “I’m just going to pretend this was one big bad dream.”

There are a few murmurs of agreement before Gearing dips his head low and says, in all sincerity, “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

As the others congregate around the metal storage cabinet and start divvying out the meager supplies within, the little filly looks at Gearing and asks, “What are you gonna do now?”

Gearing points out the door and says, “Head back to that camp and remove all traces of you being there, and then get on with the next step of my plan.”

“Will we ever see each other again?” she asks as she looks him over. She scrunches her face to the side. “And… what’s your name? What do I even call you?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Maybe… maybe not… Only time will tell… And as far as what to call me, don’t even worry about it.” He removes his goggles long enough to give her a wink and holds up a pinion as he says, “I’m just a figment of your imagination… We’re not even here… remember?” Then he reaches over and quickly ruffles her mane before he turns around and runs out of the door for the building.

She grumbles and pushes her mane back out of her eyes before she chases after him and hisses, “Hey, that’s not fair, you can’t just-!” but then she stops as she gets to the door to the building, looks over in the direction that he’d gone, but sees nothing. Not a single sliver of movement to be had. She looks up, and at the sky, and around everywhere she can see from here. But then she turns around and walks back to the others with her jaw hanging open. “H-he’s gone… just… Poof… disappeared!” She sniffles as she reaches up and pinches her own cheeks. “I’m not dreaming am I? This is really happening, right?”

The portly mare walks over and wraps her up in a hug as she says, “No, hun. This has all been one big bad dream… Remember?” She pulls back and has tears in the edges of her eyes as she says, “This never happened.”

It doesn’t take long for the ponies to take off from the building. A few stick together, but most of them head off as singles on their own as they plan out their own ultimate destination in their individual heads. But, even leaving separately, they head in the same general direction, following the directions laid out for them with a map that Gearing had placed in the metal cabinet and that they all had thoroughly examined before they took off. He’d not lead them astray so far. And they are all eager to not end up back in shackles again.

Because whether whatever grand crazy plan he has actually succeeds or not is beside the point. They have their freedom now, thanks to him, and quickly beat hooves as fast as they can so they can be sure to enjoy the precious gift of a second chance.

* * *

When Gearing gets back to Commander Pancake’s quarters he marches right in and steps over the downed buck as he walks towards the desk at the far end. He grabs a stack of papers from it, and hops back onto the bed as he looks down at the rotund earth pony. Gearing waves the papers at him, seeing the blank stare in his direction, before he asks, “Don’t mind if I read your mail, do you?” He waves it around a bit more as he chuckles, “Well, speak up!” A moment later he kicks back, by stretching out on the bed and leaning against the side of the shipping container, and starts quickly reading as he grins. “Thanks! You’re a real pal.” He pauses reading just long enough to look down at Pancakes and tut-tuts him, “Tut-tut, Flapjacks… laying down on the job again? Welp… Soooomepooooony’s not getting a prooomoootiooooooon!” And Gearing giggles and gets a sense of euphoria as he hears the buck make a gurgling snort sound. “I know, I’m such a pain in the ass, huh? I hear that all the time!” The buck lets out a quiet forced cough and a snort in response. Gearing looks down at Pancake and narrows his eyes as he says, “Laaaaanguaaaaage!” before flipping through the papers one after another in rapid succession as he reads through the Red Eye commander’s correspondence. Both his private messages and his official messages. Which, he quickly finds, has a variety of drafts of letters that might not have even been sent. Including the one he was working on earlier.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grins as he says, ‘Ouuuu I just love fresh juicy ammo!’ and then starts loading a machine gun with the letters as if they are belt fed magazines.

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

82 Mining the Fort

As the sun starts rising over the old mining company turned Red Eye slave trafficking outpost, Gearing continues to slowly patrol the compound. Out in the open, and without even trying to hide himself. In fact, he’s intentionally making himself, and his new outfit, as visible as possible as he practically struts around the compound like he owns the joint.

Because he stripped Stubs of everything he had, and is wearing it himself. He stripped the rest of the Red Eye’s personnel in the camp as well, of course. His own personal equipment he squirreled away where no one is likely to find it. He’s wearing the same goggle-eyed sack-headed modified hoofball helmet on his head that Stubs was wearing. And the rest of him is covered with the piecemealed armor that Stubs had been wearing, plus additional contributions from the last mare he subdued. Gearing had even taken off the bodysuit, because that was a bit too different if anyone had seen it. The primary difference between the two is that Gearing has wrapped extra cloth around his entire body before putting on the armor, to cover his brassy hide, but done in such a way that there’s not a noticeable difference from the outside. The baggy sections covering his legs were taken from the mare, and do an excellent job of covering up the lump from his PipBuck. However, by donning the Red Eye soldier’s armor, he’s learned a thing or two about its capability. Namely that under all of the fabric there was even more armor. And that it’s not as puny as he’d originally thought. Enough so that he’s pretty sure AP rounds might just serve him better than he would have otherwise thought. And the carbine that he’d previously admitted to most likely being better quality, after closer examination, was just as advertised. It’s got some wear on it, but beyond that it is in perfect working order. Which he realizes that means they do in fact have the resources to keep their troops armed and their equipment maintained. Details that he’s not soon to forget.

Though the one change that he had to make, by necessity, was with the added layers that he put over his haunches and what he’s done with his tail. Stubs’ haunches were easily seen, even from a distance, and that’s how Gearing could identify the tan buck was in fact tan. But with the way Gearing’s own body works, he might get away with something to make him look a similar color, but would not get away with any kind of real look at him. Because plates and cogs look nothing like pony hair and he knows it. So he’s completely covered himself with more of the armor and fabric. And he’s taken a page from the one mare he’d surprised, and wrapped fabric around his tail, then braided it with more fabric tightly tied to it with some bits of metal here and there giving himself an apparent baton. If she got away with it, it should work well enough for him. It took some time to figure out a way to make the costume seem seamless. But Commander Pancake’s full body mirror was priceless in its aid. A fact that Gearing regularly thanked the commander for while he was getting himself dressed for success for his plan.

It took a while for Gearing to get everything situated and for him to learn what he could from the outpost. And, before the sun even thought about coming up, alone in the cold dark of night, Gearing finished everything. The whole monumental task. Everything that needed to be stowed away has been. Things that needed to be cleaned or removed have been. And now he alone is the guard of the complex as he waits for the next stage of his plan to start. He wishes he had something else to do, because since he started worrying about being spotted, or more accurately, not being spotted on patrol, he’s had little else to do but think about what he’s doing as he’s walking around out in the open.

And it’s tearing him apart as if he’d stumbled into another enervation field like the one those ghouls had chased him into. But this time it’s one of his own making, and he could dispel it at any moment. He has time. But, he stays the course and instead chooses to damn himself further. He’s sure it’s the only way his scheme will work. Because who would ever conceive of anyone doing what he’s doing, willingly, and intentionally. Especially someone that regularly gets hailed as a ‘hero’.

With the sun peeking over the mountains and the area starting to lighten up, Gearing heads over to the area where he knows the supplies are kept. Thanks to a key he’d found around Pancakes’ neck before he carried him off to his own holding cell, he’s able to stroll right up to the shipping container and unlock it with the intended key. Of course, he could pick the lock and get in, but appearances are important and he has no idea who may be watching. Especially with the light levels coming up all around The Hoof.

He pulls the shipping container’s door wide open, and trots right in. For added theater he clicks on the electric light that’s inside, and carefully looks over the shelves of supplies. There’s quite a bit in here. Enough for the outpost’s personnel and their ‘guests’ for quite a while. And, as Gearing had learned, even more so as Pancake had been shorting what he’d been giving to their captives before sending them off. Since the entire time he’s been here. So he’s amassed quite a bit of supplies off the books.

But Pancake isn’t here right now. ‘Stubs’ is.

So Gearing grabs the clipboard off of the wall, and quickly peruses what’s available. He puts a few items into his own saddle bag. Then grabs a couple items and puts them into a plastic shopping basket that was sitting on the floor of the shipping container. But, despite what others might think, he actually lists everything he takes on the clipboard, including the rations he put into Stubs’ saddle bag hanging from his side, before replacing the clipboard and leaving. One thing that he’s learned about these ponies is that, if nothing else, they are very strict about keeping records. He’s sure there is some level of corruption and things being taken ‘off the books’ by some individuals when they know they can get away with it. Discipline is never 100%, especially with an army of apparent slaves. Pancake is a perfect example of that. And the real Stubs is as well, at least judging by his open complaining among other things that Gearing’s learned about them. But Gearing is trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. This is an important role that he himself has to play.

The role of an obedient slave soldier of the great and fantastic leader Red Eye.

And, being the only one on guard duty, it’s up to him to do what needs to be done. So it would draw no suspicion from anyone, even if they were to see him, to watch him stroll right up to the cage with the two unicorns in it that are still sleeping. Gearing sets the basket down away from the cage, and then starts passing the items in one at a time inside through the bars. After he gets the items inside he steps back and looks them over again as they lay in the trampled dirt of their confinement pen.

‘I really don’t like this,’ the little blue pegasus says as he looks off to the side and refuses to look at anything more than mind space clouds.

If you got a better idea, I would love to hear it, Gearing mentally groans back. But the little pegasus in his head remains adamantly silent.

After a few moments of standing there looking in. Gearing reaches up with one of his booted forehooves and smacks the metal of the cage. “Hey! Quit pretending to sleep already… Get up.”

The aging buck raises his head and stares at Gearing wearily as he says, “Why?”

Gearing hits the cage a couple more times, before he says, “You need to eat this.”

The buck blinks a few times, and then glances down. His eyes go a bit wider as he asks, “What’s all of that? You all didn’t give us that much before?”

The mare lifts her head finally and looks over at the meager meal before looking up at Gearing. “What’s that gonna cost us?”

Gearing waves a forehoof towards it as he says, “You’re gonna need it. You’re getting transferred out today. So you better eat it quick before they get here. Because if you think they’re just going to let you lay there if you pass out from hunger you got another thing coming… Not alive anyway…”

They frown then slowly walk over and grab the plastic bottles and gingerly sip from the water. Though it takes the buck an embarrassingly long amount of time to get it open with just his mouth and hooves and his frustration at not being able to use his magic is evident on his face. His eyes jump wide as he looks at the bottle after managing to take his first sip. “What’s with the water? It doesn’t taste like radhog ass like the stuff from yesterday?”

Gearing avoids looking at them as they start eating and grumbles, “That’s because those bottles were filled from the rain water catchers. So they aren’t as dirty.”

“Oh, well that’s nice of you,” the elder mare says as she nibbles on some kind of stale cake made from unknown grain and plant matter. But Gearing catches the look on her face and it just hurts all the more as he sees that she wasn’t being sarcastic. She was actually grateful for the ‘treat’ of clean water.

Gearing looks around quickly and then stealthily slips out the rations he’d taken for himself. He leans towards the cage as he says quietly, “Hey… gimmie that wrapper… trade me your empties.”

They look from his hooves, with the new food, then up at him, and Gearing says, “You can have this too, but I need the empties…”

The mare looks at him and smiles as she asks, “So they won’t know you gave us more than you should?”

Gearing doesn’t verbally reply beyond a disgruntled sad sigh as he waves the newly filled packages towards them. They quickly transfer their water into their one bottle, and grab one of the newspaper wrapping papers that the mystery cake had been in and passes them both over to Gearing. And he quickly stows the garbage in his bag as they take the freshly delivered food as well. As they start divvying up the extra food between them Gearing says with a grumble, “Don’t tell anyone I did that…”

The mare smiles as she shakes her head. “I won’t. I wouldn’t want you to get punished for trying to help us.”

The older buck asks quietly, “There wouldn’t be any way I could talk you into just letting us out of here and letting us go, is there?”

Gearing steps up closer to the cage, and the buck actually recoils away expecting some kind of violence hurled at him and ends up sitting down accidentally. Gearing leans on the cage and whispers, “I can’t do that… I’m sorry… If there was any other way out of this I’d take it. I swear.” He hangs his head and sighs as he says, “I’m sorry.”

The mare walks up to the cage and gently taps him on his boot. When he looks up she gently rubs the mask on the side of his muzzle as she asks softly, “We’re not the only ones trapped, are we?” She tilts her head and lets out a sigh as she says, “You may be on the other side of the cage… but you’re just as much a prisoner as we are, aren’t you?”

Gearing slowly lowers his head as he lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. This is the best I can do for you now.”

The mare smiles as she has tears on the edge of her eyes. “I never thought I’d hear such kindness again…” She pats him on the side of the muzzle as she says, “It's okay… I understand… really, I do… It’s not your fault… You’re a good buck.”

Gearing looks up at her and says flatly, “No. I’m not. A ‘good buck’ would find another way out of this.”

The older stallion gets up and walks over to the cage as he smiles. “Buck… you’re young… we’re old… We’ve had a good life for the most part… There’s no point in getting yourself and others killed on our account.” Gearing and him share eye contact for a bit before the buck holds up the bottle of water and asks, “But any chance of getting some more water? If it’s going to be a long trip I’m not gonna make it dehydrated.”

Gearing nods quickly as he says, “I can do that. I’ll just grab some water out with a cooking pot and give you some tin cans, will that work?”

The mare smiles widely as she says, “That’d be amazing, dear.”

Gearing quickly runs over to the cooking area, grabs one of the long handled cooking pots, fills it from a rain barrel, and hurries back to them. After dropping off the pot of fresh water he scrounges up a couple tin cans, without the lids, and drops them off as well. As he’s setting down the two improvised drinking implements and picking up the trash from where they’d finished and left it outside of the cage for him, the older stallion says happily, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Gearing looks up at him and says quickly, “Please, don’t thank me. I do not deserve your thanks.”

The mare sitting at the edge of the cage smiles at him as she says, “That’s not the way gratitude works, young buck… but… don’t worry… We won’t tell on you to anyone.”

Gearing hangs his head as he looks away. “Well… thanks for that.” Then he turns and goes back to his patrol around the compound. He’s not sure when they are supposed to get here today, just that they are supposed to get here today. And he really hopes they don’t wait until nightfall to make an appearance. He’s already going to have enough of a problem explaining where he’s been all night. He even starts debating on what kind of mischief he can get into on the way back that he can blame his absence on.

As it’s getting into the late morning, and he’s walking from guard post to guard post near the main entrance where the train tracks are, he hears an ear-splitting blood-curdling scream of pure terror.

Coming from behind him.

He turns around and starts running back towards the building where the mine entrance is held, and then vectors around towards the side as he hears the old stallion and mare crying for help.

As Gearing is coming around the corner of some shipping containers, and clears the rusted out debris of mining equipment, he regains line of sight on the slave cages and sees the mare and buck using the cooking pot to beat back a trio of oversized scorpions that are trying to get into the cage with them. Each one is so big that their pincers alone are the size of a pony’s hoof, let alone the rest of the little beasties. There are two at the front of the cage, and one on the side nearest to Gearing. And giving the pair a perfectly good reason to be so terrified, the one nearest to Gearing has managed to flip itself sideways, and is in the process of trying to figure out how to get itself the rest of the way into the cage with them. It wiggles back and forth as its legs skitter in mid air as it works its body between the bars. All while its pincers are stretched out as far as they can be and sweep side to side in a bid to snip off bits of pony to nibble on. Its tail is high and ready to strike but is thankfully blocked by the rails of the cage. It’s slowly making headway into the cage with them; despite the fact the matronly unicorn keeps bashing it in the face with the metal pot that Gearing had left them for water.

Gearing charges in as fast as he can as he yells, “More fucking scorpions?! Hold on, I’m coming!” He stampedes towards the cages as quickly as his hooves will take him, and as he comes up behind the clever scorpion almost getting in. He grabs it by its tail with his forehooves, and simply jumps back and away from the cage while holding onto it. Several of the scorpion’s legs that had been on the inside of the cage, and tried their best to hold it to the cage despite what Gearing was doing, snap and break from the sudden unrelenting force. Gearing yells and screams as he rears up and spins the scorpion over his head with it still held in its forehooves by swinging it by its tail. He takes a few steps, increasing speed by turning his own body, before hurling the scorpion a distance away. The scorpion slams into the side of a massive rusting metal shipping container, and then limply falls down into the fifty-five gallon drum that was standing next to it and under the critter’s point of impact. Gearing only watches for a moment longer before realizing that he’d make the right choice. He was pretty sure that one was only partially full of trash, and the fact that the scorpion hasn’t already scurried up enough to be seen proves it.

Gearing hops over and grabs the second scorpion by the tail, and performs the same spinning maneuver he’d done with the previous one, before using it to smack the third one away from the cage, sending it flying a short distance away.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head frowns as he says, ‘I see we’re in the ‘so pissed off we’re using a motherfucker to beat another motherfucker’ stage of annoyance…’ He shrugs before he smiles. ‘Hey, at least we’ll get some more glands out of this… so don’t crush the spiky bits too much.’

Instead of throwing this one away, he slams it down on the ground, onto its back, then quickly slides over and steps onto its body with a hind hoof as he controls the tail with his forelegs. After giving the tail a hug, with the stinger feebly pointing away from him, he straightens up and twists away, ripping the tail right off the scorpion in one cracking, sucking noisy action. The scorpion, to its credit, lets out an angry pained screech as it tries to skitter away and thrashes around but can’t get itself upright because of Gearing stepping on it.

Gearing jumps back and away from it as he spins around in time to avoid the third scorpion’s stinger zipping in from the side. And he halts the fresh scorpions advance with a quick snap of his heavily wrapped baton-like tail, proving the effectiveness of the mare’s design by batting the tail away from himself while in mid air. Then he starts pacing around the scorpion in a circle trying to get a good angle on it.

In the meantime, as soon as Gearing is chased off of it, the second scorpion flips itself up right and then starts chasing after Gearing as well. It might not have its tail anymore, but it has its pincers and a whole lot of anger.

“Careful!” the mare yells from the cage.

“Don’t get stung! Their pincers are bad enough, but their venom can sometimes kill a full grown stallion in one poke!” the old stallion adds.

The mare reaches out and throws the long handled cooking pot towards Gearing as she yells, “Here, use this!”

Gearing tap dances around the pair of scorpions, keeping clear of the four pincers, two pairs of mandibles, and the one stinger among them as he keeps glancing over at the pair in the cage.

Dammit, if they weren’t there this would be so much easier, Gearing mentally groans.

‘If we weren’t trying this whole bullshit in general this would have already been over,’ the little blue pegasus in his head reminds him.

Gearing jumps over the tailless scorpion, grabs the pan with a forehoove, and spins around with it. He smacks the tail of the other scorpion away, causing it to stumble and recoil as it actually felt the pain in its tail from moving suddenly in an unintended direction so violently. He smacks the tail side to side a few more times, aiming for the stinger barb with the metal, as he tries to keep the two scorpions positioned to block each other. Then when he sees them separate a bit more, to try and come at him from different angles, more in a sense of getting annoyed at each other for getting in the way of their own meal than any kind of actual cooperation or planned move, Gearing takes advantage. He spins the pan around, and catches the stinger inside the pot as he jumps over onto the scorpion that had lost its tail. For the second time in a matter of minutes it’s insultingly pinned to the ground under Gearing, but this time right side up. It reaches back and keeps trying to nip at his hindhoof as he firmly plants it there, but can’t quite make it as he’s just outside of the distance of where the scorpion can reach. So it keeps struggling under him as he’s trying to ward off the other one with the cooking pot.

Gearing glares at the one that keeps trying to sting him, and yells, “Wait your turn!” before smacking it away with the pan. He’d figure out its timing between strikes, where it would sting at him, hit the metal pan, then pull back and shift to try again. But as soon as it struck with its tail, he quickly brought the pan down on the scorpion’s head, before swinging around with a follow through and catching the scorpion right in the mandibles with the thick side section of the pan and knocking it back a few feet. As soon as he makes contact with that one, he turns his head sideways, just enough to make sure where the one he’s standing on is, before he brings the edge of the pan down on the head of the furious little arachnid under his hoof. He manages two good smacks before the third scorpion is on him again, but by that time the tailless scorpion is thoroughly stunned and laying flat under Gearing’s hoof.

This time when the third scorpion attacks him, he simply bats the stinger again, and then angles the pan down towards the scorpion’s head. But the scorpion, still having a rather sore mouth from the last hit, uses its claw to absorb the blow. Except Gearing wasn’t actually trying to hit it in the head this time. He traps the claw inside of the pan as he’s hopping forward towards it. And as he is shifting to the side of the scorpion, he quickly grabs the stringer with his other hoof as it zips in at him. And as soon as he has a hold of it, the fight is decided as he releases the pan, spins around, and begins the same maneuver he did before. He twirls the scorpion over his head, before bringing it down on its back.

Right on top of the still stunned scorpion.

Again and again. And the pair screech in mutual pain and frustration as their carapaces crack and fracture. And after repeating the maneuver so many times that it’s becoming absurd, the tail of the scorpion finally simply breaks off from the abuse and the two scorpions are left on the ground broken and leaking greenish yellow liquids through the many fractures in their carapace and where their tails have been ripped off.

Gearing drops the tail to the side, picks up the pan, and bashes their heads in a few more times. And he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing really identifiable left of the heads except fragments of chitin and greenish insect jam. Gearing drops the pan and scurries over to the cage as he asks, “Are you two okay? They didn’t sting you did they?”

The two unicorns stare at him wide-eyed before they both, in unison, shake their heads slowly.

“You sure?” Gearing asks urgently.

The mare looks herself over a bit before she starts looking the stallion standing next to her over as well as she says, “We look fine.” She looks at him and smiles widely as she says, “That was something! You really saved our keister!”

The stallion waves at Gearing and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay? Couple of those stings looked like they got close.”

“Close, but that was it,” Gearing replies with a sigh.

The mare opens her mouth to say something, but the area echoes out with a howling cry in the wind.

Both of them huddle together in the center of the cage as their eyes go wide and she murmurs, “Oh no…”

Gearing looks over towards where he was sure the sound came from and starts twitching his ears.

‘You have got to be shitting me…’ the little blue pegasus in his head asks incredulously.

More and more calls echo out, and then some, quieter, fainter, start coming from inside of the large central building.

Gearing runs over to the side, and looks around the rubble and shipping containers, and his ears fall down as he sees a group of ghouls meandering in the front of the compound but headed their way. Gearing slips the carbine from his back and props it up over one of the rusting tipped over mining carts as he snarls, “Fucking ghouls!”

And, to remove any question on their mentality, they let out the same eerie unequine screams that he’s been hunted by before as they look over and notice him.

Gearing aims his rifle as he sees the group growing by the second and activates SATS. And Gearing concentrates on them as time slows down to a near stop.

‘It’s a whole fucking herd!’ the little blue pegasus says as he groans.

Well, I’m not in a stupidly ridiculous enervation field. I’ve got skies above me, and a lot of area to maneuver. Oh, and I don’t have to worry about being quiet or a whole swarm of murder bots might slag me, Gearing replies.

‘Yeah, ‘Gearing’ doesn’t have a problem… but Stubs does! Or are we going to throw all of this away and go ahead and rescue those two?’ the little blue pegasus in his head grumps. He puts a hoof to Gearing’s nose as he says, ‘This is your fucked up idea, you know?! So what’s it gonna be?’

Shit… no… I gotta do this right… Gearing mentally mutters.

‘Well, how does Stubs even fight? We don’t know. He could either be a markspony or a complete idiot. And if we suddenly start dropping them too quickly that could cause problems as well,’ the little blue pegasus adds.

Fine, I’ll split the damn difference… think three rounds per would sound about right? Four?

The little blue pegasus groans as it visibly cringes, ‘That’s such a waste of ammo…’

Three per kill, mix up ‘missing’ with kill shots, Gearing counter offers.

The little blue pegasus points at the rifle and scowls as he says, ‘This rifle either has been in a surplus crate until recently, or it’s been out and about and getting used. I really doubt they’re manufacturing these now. It’s one of the same type of rifles that were being used before we got our asses frozen for two hundred years. It has a proven track record. Don’t insult it!’ He waves towards the front as he says, ‘And don’t forget the front attachment… This one doesn’t have extended magazines so we just might need it.’

And a lower amount of rounds for this than I would have liked, Gearing mentally groans.

‘For Equestria?’ The little blue pegasus offers with a cringey smile.

For the future, Gearing replies flatly before dropping SATS.

Gearing, with the rifle propped up over the side of the mining cart to steady the aim, opens fire on the group of ghouls running into the compound towards him. The first three drop in rapid succession as Gearing slowly shifts the barrel back and forth and releases one hot welcome package at a time toward the ghouls closing in on his position.

‘Hey, dummy, you’re too spot on! Go for a few body shots, save the head shots for later!’ the little blue pegasus scolds as he’s quickly tallying the shots fired and factoring in the accuracy percentage with each squeeze of the trigger.

In between the shots the compound echoes out with the horrible screech of the ghouls as they charge at him as quickly as they can, while calling in others to help them. And, as Gearing is pulling out a fresh magazine and reloading the rifle, he can hear that the ones in the mine are trying to break down the gate to join the ones outside in their assault.

‘That’s seven,’ the little blue pegasus says as rotten matter spatters across an excavator that’s half buried in mud and silt. ‘Um… we’re going to have a problem here,’ the little blue pegasus comments as he sees more than double that number pouring in their general direction from several avenues.

After getting the fresh magazine in, Gearing starts backing up from the overturned mining cart as he reaches under his right foreleg with his muzzle. He bites down on the handle and quickly pulls the long blade from its sheath where it was hidden before transferring it to his hoof. He gives quiet thanks for the cloth face covering and how it didn’t prevent him from doing this. He also apologizes to it for making fun of it for most of the night. Gearing quickly attaches the long serrated blade to the mount on the end of his rifle as he quickly backpedals away from the advancing herd.

“Hey! Get us out of here!” the stallion unicorn yells as he beats on the inside of the cage.

“If scorpions weren’t bad enough, now ghouls?! They’ll tear us apart!” the mare screams as she huddles up next to the older stallion.

“Hey, where are you going! Come on, let us out, you can’t just leave us in here to die!” the stallion yells as Gearing backs up in front of them with no apparent intention to do anything for them.

Gearing looks over at them and yells, “Get to the center of the cage! They’re ghouls, but they’re still ponies. If you can’t get out, they can’t get in. Just stay out of their reach!” He raises his rifle and unleashes a torrent of bullets, emptying half of the magazine and dropping two more before he yells, “I’ll protect you!”

“You’re nuts!” the stallion yells as they both quickly scurry back away from the edge of the cage as a large group of ghouls come pouring into the area.

Gearing unloads the rest of the magazine into them, and when it clicks empty he’s more than a little annoyed by the fact that he’d actually killed less than he’d meant to. He runs over to the side towards the large shipping container not far away with a couple fifty-five gallon drums next to it, and as the closest two ghouls are getting near him, he thrusts out with the rifle, right into the first ghoul’s head, before hoping back, grabbing the fifty-five gallon drum next to him, and swinging it around open side first. With a sweeping scooping action he catches the ghoul as it jumps after him, and the ghoul ends up slamming right into the bottom of the fifty-five gallon drum head first. Gearing pushes forward, forcing the ghoul into a seating position onto its haunches. And as the drum goes up and over it upside down, he screams, “You two have fun!”

And the screams coming from the drum magnify as the ghoul thrashes around and gets its face unwillingly introduced to the already very angry scorpion that’s been trapped in the bottom of the drum since Gearing threw it. And, unlike how Gearing had surprised it, this ghoul had no such advantage and the scorpion instantly starts taking its frustrations out on it with mandibles, pincers, and tail stings unleashed at the fastest pace it can manage.

Gearing quickly grabs the rifle, kicks the dead ghoul off of the bayonet, and swiftly starts running away as other ghouls pour into the area.

Even though Gearing is in plain sight, and in a straight path, the ghouls notice the two unicorns off to the side, and most of them run over to the cage and start thrashing against it from all sides. The mare and stallion huddle in the center, and scream in terror as the ghouls try their best to get in at them. Their limbs flail through the gaps in the bars and their muzzles snap at them. And all around the pair all they see is writhing angry ghoulish flesh with glowing eyes staring at them.

Gearing runs up one of the large industrial conveyor machines, hopping over certain areas where the metal chain link mesh that the machine had been using to transport the ores had rusted through. Thankfully the rollers are still mostly intact so he makes good time until he gets up to the top of it where it would normally drop the ores off into some storage unit for shipping or sorting. But, instead, Gearing sits down, props up the rifle with his hind hooves as he rolls back, and sights down towards the slave cage.

The first time any one of them notices anything is wrong is when a ghoul that had used the others as an improvised equine ladder manages to get on top of the cage. As they are scrambling across the top, and trying to bite their way into the metal cage, their head explodes in a shower of black ichor and rotten chunks. The creature instantly goes still and limply falls down as its eyes stop looking at anything in particular.

The report of Gearing’s carbine screams out one after another, and several more ghouls fall down around the cage as they are busy trying to get at the couple. But the ghouls don’t respond to it. They have something far more interesting in front of them if they can only just reach it.

That is until the ghouls that had kept going after Gearing come around the bottom of the conveyor, reacquire sight on their prey, and let out a long inequine scream as they start scrambling up the conveyor belt towards Gearing. Instantly the surviving ghouls at the cage turn, look over and up as they follow the sound, and then answer their herdmates call before charging off to join them.

The couple looks around at the various corpses as they shake from fright. Then they look up and see Gearing shooting down from the conveyor belt a distance away. The elderly mare screams out with as much panic in her voice as she had a moment ago when she was terrified for her own safety, “Look out! The others are coming!”

On top of the conveyor belt Gearing rotates the gun around and shoots straight down the conveyor belt’s length at the ghouls charging up at him. Given this is his last magazine for this weapon, he decides to cut back on his intentional missing. Although, with the way things are swaying as the rickety machine has ghouls starting to clamor all over it, he’s actually missing more often then he likes anyway. Which only gets worse as other ghouls actually start climbing the framework of the conveyor machine straight up the sides towards him.

And when his carbine clicks empty, he rolls over onto his hooves, and pulls the carbine back as he prepares to defend himself from the coming horde. The first ghoul that manages to make it to him has a couple holes in its chest where a few well placed, yet ultimately impotent, rounds had already injured it. Gearing brings his rifle around, kissing the side of the ghoul’s head with the butt, and kicking it off to the side with the same momentum, before using that entire motion as a wide up to stab the next ghoul in the head. But before he gets the rifle back out of the fresh corpse, another ghoul jumps over the one he’d just stabbed, and ponypiles Gearing. He falls down onto the conveyor belt, onto his back, as a ghoul had managed to climb up the entire length of the conveyor belt, using just the frame, and came from the side to grab onto his hind leg and bite it as it yanks him down.

Gearing lets out a yell of anger, surprise, and pain as he slams into the conveyor belt with the ghouls closing in on him. The one that had jumped on top of him, he gets his hindleg under it, the one that isn’t currently being feasted upon by another ghoul, and heaves it up and off of him with a flinging kick that sends it up and off of himself and over the side of the machine. He reaches over, grabs his rifle with his forehooves, and then starts bashing on the ghoul that’s trying to eat through the boot on his hind leg. After smacking it off of himself enough to stand up, he rears up with the rifle to smack it with the rifle again, but another ghoul has managed to make it the full length of the conveyor, jumps into his side, and it completely knocks Gearing off his balance as the conveyor machine is already swaying wildly from the ruckus happening all over it.

The three go tumbling over the side, from the top, and the pair of unicorns watch in horror as Gearing falls down and disappears behind a collection of debris and shipping containers, with two ghouls clinging to his body the whole way down. They visibly wince when they hear the audible sound of the meaty crunch as the trio impact into the ground somewhere out of sight.

And the elderly couple start shivering and shaking as they hear the screeching calls of the ghouls, even after their guard had fallen from such a height. Over time the calls start settling down, and getting more quiet. Even the ones from inside of the mining building start tapering off without any further incitement. And, slowly, the mining compound turns eerily quiet. Where the only sounds are their own fretting, the howling of the wind through the bars of their cell, and the squeaking grinding sound as the old rusting equipment sways with the wind.

The stallion groans as he holds the mare close to him, “Young fool… he should have just made a run for it.”

“What are we going to do? I haven’t seen anyone else? We’re stuck in here!” the mare moans.

The stallion shakes his head. “He’d said we were getting transferred out today, remember? So somepony’s gotta come by for us sometime…”

She buries her face in his neck as she moans, “I almost hope the ghouls get them too… As much as I don’t want to starve to death in here, that just seems more fair.”

The stallion gives her a gentle shake as he chuckles morbidly, “Careful… you might just get your wish on that.” Then the two bury their faces in each other’s necks in mutual comfort.

A few minutes later a loud crunching sound catches their notice, before a banging metallic clang echoes out. And they look up in time to see Gearing dropping the metal fifty-five gallon drum to the side as he examines the destruction the scorpion and the ghoul had unleashed on each other. Apparently the ghoul didn’t take kindly to getting stung and bit. So it bit back. And the two have absolutely mangled each other as the scorpion had held onto the ghoul’s face and snipped and slashed large swaths of ghoulish flesh away as it struck it in the face, head, and eyes, again and again with its stinger.

But, just to make sure, Gearing uses the knife that functions as his carbine’s bayonet, and stabs them both in the head. He looks over at the unicorn pair and asks with a pant, “You two okay? Have you seen anymore?”

They stare at him with their mouth agape before the mare jumps towards the cage bars and screams, “You’re alive?! How?!” She looks him over and shakes her head as she says, “We watched you fall!”

Gearing flicks some filth off of his knife, then wipes the rest off on the side of his boot before putting it back into its sheath. “Yeah… that sucked.” He starts walking towards them, slowly, limping with a back hind leg as he says, “Thankfully the ghouls were kind enough to cushion my fall.”

‘The cab of that tractor buckling in under our weight helped too,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head groans.

The older stallion looks him over as he asks, “You’re not hurt are you?”

Gearing lets out a laugh before he says bitterly, “Nah, it fucking tickled.”

The stallion grins at him as he says, “I’ll be damned…”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he slowly sits down and stretches out his hind left leg. “Well, I’ll be there for sure, so you’ll be in good company,” Gearing replies with a snort. Gearing looks around as he asks, “Where the hell those scorpions come from? I’d been patrolling around so how the hell they just sneak in like that?”

The mare points off to the back by the kitchen area as she replies, “From that direction I think.”

Gearing nods as he says, “Okay, well, I’m going to go check it out. If you see anything yell… and I’ll come running.”

The mare smiles at him as she asks, “Again, you mean?”

Gearing looks over at her as he says flatly, “As many times as it takes.” He readjusts his carbine over his back as he turns and limps off towards the camp’s storage area to resupply.

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

83 Reapering What You Sow

A short distance away from the Red Eye’s army camp where Gearing has been masquerading as Stubs the guardspony, a group of eight real Red Eye soldiers hides among the elevated broken rocky terrain and vegetation. A couple of them look at the camp through the scopes of their rifles; though a unicorn mare looks at it through a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck.

A dark gray mare in a set of heavy armor, with Red Eye emblems predominately displayed on it, stands behind a boulder next to the mare with the binoculars and asks, “Well, Cupola?”

“I don’t like this, Wild Strikes… I’ve only seen the one pony this whole time guarding the place; no one else,” the mare with the binoculars replies as she keeps her eyes on the encampment.

“You sure it’s the same one? Can’t see a hide color from here with that armor they’re wearing,” the heavily armored dark gray mare asks as she keeps her eyes on the encampment as a whole.

“No, I’m not, but considering they’re the only one that dealt with the scorpions… Then no one else came when that roving herd of ghouls stopped by, regardless of all the ammo they used, I doubt anyone else is there. Should have been more weapons fire if that were the case,” the mare with the binoculars replies flatly.

“Yeah, but they also took a swan dive off that machine, with two ghouls on them, and walked away from it. So they aren’t just your typical grunt,” a buck lying out off to the side says with a smile. “I bet that guy’s a real flank kicker, that’s why he’s on guard duty.”

The mare with the binoculars looks over at him and arcs an eyebrow as she asks, “What makes you think they’re a buck?”

He looks over at her and grins as he asks, “What makes you think they aren’t?”

“Bet you my last sparkle cola that it’s a she, and she’s probably second in command.”

“I’ll take that bet, but I don’t think they’re second in command. Probably just got the short straw… He did, I mean,” the buck says with a grin.

“Knock it off you two,” Wild Strikes says as she scowls. “I don’t like this either… Where are they now?”

‘Stubs’ stands up a bit behind them and to the side, still in the same bulky Red Eye armor, as he calls out to them from not far away, “Is there a reason you all have been out here for hours staring at my camp?”

The entire group of Red Eye soldiers whips around and points their weapons at him, but Gearing doesn’t even flinch as eight weapons are directed right at him.

Gearing turns his head slowly, intentionally letting them all know that he can see them just fine, including the buck that had been crouched in a bush behind all of the others but somehow still didn’t see Gearing’s approach. “Well? State your business, or move along.”

Cupola, the mare with the binoculars, looks at him and scowls as she asks, “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I asked you first,” Gearing says as he stares at her.

The buck sitting next to Cupola grins as he asks, “Hey, buddy, what’s your name, bro?” and then glances over at Cupola with a smug grin of victory across his muzzle.

Gearing looks at him and replies flatly, “Stubs.”

The buck waves over towards ‘Stubs’ and gets a massive grin on his face as he starts bouncing his eyebrows at her. “Told ya… That cola’s MINE!”

Wild Strikes steps towards Gearing as she demands, “Where’s your commanding officer? Why are you out here all by yourself?”

Gearing looks at her and says flatly, “I’m doing my job of protecting the camp. And I’m not answering another question until you tell me exactly what you are doing out here and why you’ve been watching me for the last few hours.”

Cupola’s eyes go wide as she asks, “You noticed us?!”

Gearing stares at her, for a few moments, in complete silence, before pointedly turning his muzzle towards the dark gray mare in the heavy armor and asking, “Well?”

Wild Strikes marches up towards him, heavily stomping the ground the whole way, as she snarls, “Don’t take that tone with me! Do you have any idea who I am!?”

The buck off to the side, who is currently cracking open a Sparkle cola under the scowling gaze of Cupola, comments, “Considering he’s already asked twice, I’d say the answer to that is ‘no’…”

Wild Strikes looks back at him and narrows her eyes as she gives him a disapproving snort. Even more so as he simply waves it off with a hoof and smirks at her, as the common sense of it is so painfully obvious that she can’t actually disagree with him. She turns back to look at Gearing as she says, “We’re here for the volunteer transfer. If you noticed us you should have went and told somepony.” She waves a hoof at him and snarls as she says, “Why have you kept us out here waiting all this time?!”

Gearing looks her in the face as he lets out an exaggeratedly annoyed sigh.

The little blue pegasus rattles his bag of dice as he asks, ‘Wanna roll for bullshit?’

Gearing replies evenly, “My orders were to safeguard the camp until either Flapjacks returns or the team arrives for transfer… And since I’m the only one here I couldn’t just come out the first moment I saw you to check on you…” He looks around at all of them before he lets out another annoyed snort. “As you’ve seen… I’ve already had a very busy day and it’s not even noon yet…” He waves a hoof around nonchalantly, “Thanks for the help by the way…”

Wild Strikes stomps in front of him and looms over him as she growls, “It is not our place to do your job.”

Gearing looks her in the face and replies matter-of-factly, “Well if you are who you say you are, your job is supposed to be to take possession of the new assets and escort them back to Fillydephila. A job that you have, up until this point, failed to accomplish… You’ve unnecessarily wasted hours of travel time. Intentionally.” He tilts his head as he stares at her. “I’ve done my job, which is keep the camp secure and the assets safe, and I’m just one buck… What’s your excuse?”

“Excuse me?!” Wild Strikes asks as she scoffs at Gearings audacious attitude.

“Do your job and I’ll think about it. We’re already tight on resources around here, and dead weight will just drag us down,” Gearing quips.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” the dark gray mare asks as she leans in and gets in his face.

“Stubs. And I not only think, but I know that I’m currently the highest ranked individual at this camp until Flapjacks gets back. And my standing orders are to keep the camp secure, and assets safe, using any means necessary… And you’re all rather suspect right now…” Gearing says with a matter-of-fact tone that slowly turns grumbly and menacing at the end.

Wild Strikes raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Who the hell is this Flapjacks?”

The buck with the half drank sparkle cola waves a hoof at Gearing and chuckles as he says, “That’s the nickname they gave Commander Pancake… So either this guy’s a good friend of his to get away with that, or is so far gone he doesn’t even care anymore.”

‘I’d been wondering about that,’ the little blue pegasus says as he scratches his chin. ‘Welp, learn something new every day!’

Wild Strikes takes in a deep breath as she tries to compose herself. “I understand.” She waves her booted forehoof around as she straightens up and keeps her eyes closed. “You’ve had a tough duty assignment given to you, and were in rough position. After careful thought, I can see the need for your suspicions. It’s actually… commendable, soldier.”

Gearing looks at her and says with a sigh, “Ma’am… I haven’t slept in nearly two days… Before I got stuck with this, and left here alone, I’d already worked a double. So would you please help me complete this transfer so I can go crash somewhere?”

The dark mare nods as she pulls out a sealed rolled up piece of paper from her bag and offers it to Gearing. “Here are the transfer orders. That should be sufficient for you to prove who we are. Yes?”

Gearing eases over, grabs the paper, breaks the wax seal, and starts reading it quickly.

The dark mare’s eyes go wide as she snaps, “That wasn’t for your eyes, that’s for your commander!”

Gearing looks up at her and replies evenly, “Until Flapjacks gets back, er… Commander Pancake… I’m in charge…” He rattles the scroll as he says, “Which means it’s my job to make sure everything gets done… including this…” And then he goes right back to reading the paper right in front of her.

“That’s… reasonable…” Wild Strikes says as she narrows her eyes at him but obviously doesn’t like it.

This is ridiculous… It figures these bastards would keep contracts and paperwork. This is really detailed, Gearing mentally grumbles as he reads over the slaver transfer scroll that authorizes the bearers to take the slaves from his location to Fillydelphia.

‘Is it a whole organization of lawyer worshipers?! Like how Freight Cars are obsessed with trains and Burner Boys are obsessed with flamers? No wonder they’re evil!’ the little blue pegasus in his head chimes in.

“Satisfied?” Wild Strikes asks as she narrows her eyes more by the moment.

Gearing rolls the scroll back up and nods as he says, “This seems to be in order, yes.” He motions towards the camp with the scroll as he says, “Right this way.” He abruptly turns and starts trotting off back towards the camp as the others just stare at him flabbergasted. As they are walking along, Gearing adds, “We’ve got a lot of problems here, and I’m sure you’re not going to like what you find.”

The little blue pegasus in his head grins devilishly as he comments, ‘That’s the plan anyway…’

The dark gray mare trots up next to Gearing quickly before she asks, “What do you mean? Are you saying you’ve lost assets? And where is your commander? Where is everyone else? Why are you here all by yourself?”

Gearing pointedly turns his head to look at her and comments with a grumble, “I haven’t lost anything that’s been put in my care. I’ve actually done my job despite what we are dealing with.” He looks back towards the camp and grumbles a bit before he swears just a hair above ‘under his breath’, “That fucking Usury…” the comment causes more than a few ears to jump in his direction as the snarl he’d unleashed with the name oozed with genuine hate and disgust.

Gearing slows his pace as he looks at the dark gray mare besides him and says, “It’s a good luck cluster fuck out here. There aren’t many of us to begin with. And then that slimy ass Usury keeps screwing us over on deliveries. Making up tons of excuses for why she can’t or won’t deliver.”

Wild Strikes glares at him as she replies, “You better not be telling me we came all the way out here and you don’t have anyone to transfer. This trip better not have been a complete waste of time.”

Gearing spins and sits down as he looks at her and sighs. “It almost is, yes. She’s stiffed us yet again and shorted us what she said she’d deliver.” He shakes his head then vaguely waves off to the north as he says, “That’s why I’m here by myself. Flapjacks ordered me to watch the ones Usury did cough up, while he took everyone else to try and scrounge up some volunteers himself. He was hoping to get back in time to be able to supplement the numbers by making up for Usury’s fuck up and actually make it worth your time. But they haven’t gotten back yet.” He looks off to the side and grumbles, “I just hope he didn’t run into any of those Paradise assholes and had any problems.”

The buck with the sparkle cola bottle taps the last few drops into his mouth before summarily throwing it off to the side and breaking it against a rock as he looks at Gearing, “Hey, Stubs, why would Paradise slavers be causing you problems?” Wild Strikes shoots him a dirty look and he shrugs as he says, “They’re supposed to be on our side, aren’t they? They provide the bodies, we pay them.”

Wild Strikes looks over at Gearing and raises an eyebrow as she seems to agree it’s a valid point.

Gearing looks around and then says quieter, “Okay, look. I can’t prove anything. But we’ve had problems with them before. One of the times I was escorting the new arrivals from there to here, we got attacked on the way back. At first I thought it was some so called hero trying to rescue them.” He shrugs and waves a forehoof as he leans towards her. “But the problem is, after we fought them off, I checked the body of the one we’d managed to kill… And I know for a fact I saw him in Paradise that same day. And he wasn’t wearing any bomb collar, or in a cage. I mean he was one of Usury’s bucks!”

“Why would he do that?” the buck off to the side asks as he looks at ‘Stubs’.

Gearing looks over at him and grumbles as he says, “I have my own theories, but I can’t prove anything.”

“And?” Wild Strikes asks as her interest seems to be piqued.

Gearing lets out a sigh before he says, “My honest thoughts on the whole thing?” The dark mare nods, so Gearing continues, “Well, first, I gotta say, I’m not the only one here that’s thinking it. I know it’s been pissing off Flapjacks. It’s bad enough that we’re out here understaffed and short on supplies for what we need. But Usury is making us all look bad.” He looks around at the group of eight ponies and then asks as he tilts his head. “You guys show up with lower then expected numbers, who catches an ear full? You, right? Just like Flapjacks is getting concerned about getting it from you or someone higher up. And just like I know I’ve been hearing it from Flapjacks. We’re not the ones causing the fuck up, but we haven’t been able to fix it, and that gets laid on us.”

Wild Strikes holds up a hoof to stop him as she rolls her eyes and says, “Enough trying to cover your own flank. I get it… But what’s going on.”

Gearing looks at her and says, “Usury’s on a power trip. Completely out of control and full of herself. Somepony’s got her tail in a twist and instead of honoring her obligations to us, and more importantly Red Eye, she’s using her resources to try to get even with some bimbo for no other reason than just because.” Gearing shakes his head. “I don’t even think she actually knows the bitch, just feels personally snubbed so she’s using everything she can to get back at her just to stroke her own ego.”

The mare with the binoculars around her neck asks, “You mean Security?”

Gearing nods and points a hoof at her as he says, “Yeah, her. Like there’s no reason for that!”

Cupola narrows her eyes as she says, “Well she did declare war on anyone in the trade, so it does kind of make sense on why Usury would want to have her taken out.” She waves her hoof as she says, “It’s all over the radio.”

Gearing slams a hoof down as he says, “One! It was one incident with a dumb ass alcoholic.” He looks back at the dark gray mare leader as he asks, “Do you have any idea how many other morons say shit like that? They might even hit a group in transit,” he looks over at Cupola as he adds, “Just like Security did,” then he looks back at the dark gray mare before he asks, “Yet Usury hasn’t put a bounty on them? Hell, we haven’t put a bounty on them. Let alone making the largest bounty in Hoofington history.” He waves his forelegs around as he says, “There’s no way that makes sense. It’s disproportionate to the problem.”

The mare with the binoculars says quietly, as she’s thinking it through, “But, she didn’t put the initial bounty out, she just doubled it…”

Gearing points at her and nods before shaking his hoof at her and looking at the rest of the group. “Yeah! Exactly! See?! There was no reason for it. She’s going to get got eventually, and Usury just decides to jump in on the bandwagon too? By doubling what was already the highest bounty ever? Just because?” He tilts his head as he says quieter, “Like the money didn’t matter at all?”

Wild Strikes asks as she looks straight at Gearing, “Your point?”

Gearing shrugs as he sits back up. “Oh, nothing. Just that it seems awful fucking funny that she can do something like that, but then she gives us bullshit excuses about not having the resources to meet her obligations to Red Eye.” He slowly shakes his head as he looks at the dark gray mare. “You can be too broke to meet your obligations, or rolling in so much dough that you can throw it around without a care… You quite literally can’t be both.”

Wild Strikes purses her lips to the side for a moment before she asks, “I can see where you’re going with this… But what else haven’t you told me?”

Gearing points off to the camp as he says, “Well, Flapjacks asked me to have whoever comes in to pick up the volunteers to send off some mail for him when then get back. He wants everyone else to know what’s going on and that something needs to be done. And he seems to be just as suspicious of her as I am.”

“Meaning?” Wild Strikes asks with a snort of annoyance as he seems to be dragging this conversation out unnecessarily.

“Meaning, I think Usury has other plans… Ones that don’t include Red Eye. And, considering how she’s been getting more brazen about her bullshit I think she’s getting close to pulling whatever it is off. I don’t know if she’s planning on becoming some kind of direct competition for Red Eye. Or if she’s found someone else that’s paying her more money for our property. Or what. I don’t know. All I know is she’s not quite ready yet because she’s still in the ‘giving excuses mode’ instead of outright telling us to piss off.”

Wild Strikes’ eyes go wide as she snorts, “She wouldn’t dare! She should know the consequences of crossing Red Eye!’

“Yeah, well, honestly, I don’t think she gives a flying fuck about that. Or she’s absolutely convinced she can challenge Red Eye directly, and get away with it,” Gearing says evenly.

“I don’t believe this,” the dark gray mare says as she looks over at the others. “Have you ever heard of such impertinence?!”

Gearing turns and starts walking away as he says, “It’s just my theory on matters. Take it as you will. But I’m sure it’ll make sense if you think about it and see what we’re dealing with.” He motions them to follow with a hoof as he says, “Come on, I’ll show you to the transfers.”

As they are walking along the tracks through the front entrance, and start turning to the side, the group looks around warily as they start seeing the ghoul corpses. As the leader is stepping around a small cluster of dead ghouls she asks, “Why is it that you were left alone if you had these sorts of dangers around here?”

Gearing turns to look at her, then tilts his had as he chuckles. “We don’t quite get this much excitement normally. So don’t think we’re constantly under siege, even if it feels like it at times. But, even so, I’m here because I handle business!” He kicks backwards with a hindleg and smacks a ghoul in the head hard enough to cause it to flop and roll over. “And between a choice of me, or two others for guarding the camp, you see what he chose.” He shrugs. “I don’t blame him there, an extra pony helps make cornering easier. So leaving me and taking them makes perfect sense.”

Cupola asks, “You trying to say you’re worth two of any of the others combined? Are you really that narcissistic?”

Gearing looks back at her as he blindly walks through the corpses, without getting tripped up, as he’s making it around the over turned mining cart and heading towards the cages with the unicorns in them. “Flapjacks apparently thinks so. But all I can say for sure is if you put any of the other two here, trying to do the same that I did today, you’d likely come back to find at least one of them dead after all of this.”

“Why’s that?” the mare with the binoculars asks with a smirk.

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Need to think quick on their hooves. They probably would have tried to keep the line, or keep them out, and got overrun.” He points at himself as he says, “I kept giving ground as I thinned their numbers meaning by time they got to me there wasn’t nearly as many to deal with.” He resumes walking forward as he says, “Dying gloriously in service, isn’t so glorious if in doing so you fail your assigned duty.” As he’s walking up to the cage he turns and points at it as he says, “And, as you can see, my charges are perfectly fine.”

They look around at the various ghoul corpses around the cage, including the one that seems plastered to the top of the metal bar roof, and take in the gory scene. And it takes them a few moments before they look beyond the ghouls, and actually see the occupants inside the cage. The dark gray mare walks up, looks in, then continuously goes back and forth as she seem to have a hard time counting. She pulls back after a few seemingly endless cycles, before looking over at the other two cages within sight. The entire time, the confusion she’s feeling continues to grow on her face.

She leans back and points at the two inside as she asks, “This can not be the only two you have?! Where are the others? This is it?! This isn’t worth the trip!” She kicks the cage and causes the two inside to huddle together closer as they look at her with wide-eyed fright.

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I can show you the other cages if you want-”

“You better do that,” Wild Strikes snaps with a snarl before motioning him on.

Gearing dutifully turns and starts walking away as he says, “Here’s the next two, and as you can see they’re empty…” Then he leads them around to the side of the main building opposite of the tracks and walks through the center area where the three cages are and comments, “Aaaand here’s the next three… all empty…” Then he trots over to the far side, where he’d rescued the ten the night before and spins around in an exaggerated circle with his forehooves out far as he says, “And here’s the last three cages… also empty.”

The dark gray mare walks around in a pacing action back and forth in front of him as her nostrils flare and her face darkens from the building rage. To say that she finds this unacceptable would be a suicidally ridiculous understatement.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head giggles as he holds up a giant fan and starts waving it at Wild Strikes, ‘Ooouuu look at that smoke coming out of her ears! She’s piiiiised! Fan the flames, fan the flames, fan the flames! Get tilted, bitch!’

Gearing, not wanting to tilt her too much, says quietly, “Now you know why Flapjacks was so desperate to try and get his hooves on some more…” He looks over his shoulder at the cage and groans as he says, “We have the capacity, but Usury’s really screwed us good.”

“This is all? You’re not trying to pull some kind of moronic prank, are you?”

Gearing groans before he limply waves a hoof around. “You have no idea how much I wish I were…”

“This is entirely unacceptable!” the dark mare screams as she rears up and slams her forehoves down onto the ground repeatedly. Her metallic boots bite into the ground repeatedly and betray that they aren’t really normal boots but more like low tech power hooves as she practically screeches. “Unacceptable!”

Gearing nods hard as he says, “I entirely agree with you.”

Her muzzle zips over to look at him and she snorts a few times before she says, “You said your commander had some letters to send in? Get them!”

Gearing hops up and quickly runs off towards Commander Pancakes’ private quarters. The others give chase and as he gets closer he looks over his shoulder and yells back, “Mind the alarm trip wires!” before he simply jumps over the entire series of them and disappears inside.

The others stop and stare at the lines of tin cans and metal bits on strings as they hear ‘Stubs’ inside muttering to himself, “He said it was on his desk… These? Ah hah!” Then Gearing comes trotting out with a set of letters in his mouth. He carefully steps over the various alarm lines before hoping over the last couple and turning to present the letters to the Wild Strikes. After she takes them Gearing says, “That should be all of them.”

She looks them over and sorts through them quickly with her hooves before her eyes jump wide open as she reads the intended recipient of one of them. “Vermillion?!” She quickly breaks the seal and pops it open as she starts reading it.

Gearing narrows stomps his foot a couple times as he says, “Whoa! Hey! That wasn’t for you, he was very adamant on that!”

She looks over at him and gives him a self satisfied smile as she says, “Just as you were told to take care of matters and opened a letter not intended for you. Vermillion is a very busy person and only the most important of matters should be brought to his attention. The rest of it gets delegated to others so he’s not bothered. I’ll be the judge of it!”

Gearing waves a hoof at her and sits down as he says, “Fine. No hair off my tail. I was told to give it to you, you breaking the seal afterwards is on you.”

She scowls at Gearing again, and then stares at the letter as she reads it again. Her nostrils flaring with each breath before she starts reading it aloud through gritted teeth.

“To my esteemed General Vermillion

It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that I believe we have been lead astray. I have reason to believe that our so called allies in Paradise seek to disrupt the great vision of Red Eye. Though I do not know their true aims, I have seen and experienced their treachery with my own eyes. We, my subordinates and I, have done all that we can with the resources at our disposal to make up for Usury’s failure to meet her obligations. But as distressing as that is, it’s not as worrisome as her active attempts to undermine us. Half of my subordinates have been injured in service to the great Red Eye Army, by agents of Usury. There have been multiple incidents of her subordinates ambushing our patrols in attempts to steal what rightfully belongs to Red Eye.

Stubs in particular had warned me of it after a particularly fierce battle where he’d saved the lives of his other two comrades. Though injured himself, he managed to kill one of them, and showed me the body. He swore, upon all that he holds dear, and his vow to Red Eye himself, that the buck in question was working for Usury. That he’d seen them working as a collector for Usury. I thanked him for the information, and told him that I would look into it further. However, even though I did not tell him at the time, I confess to you now that I do not need to look into the matter any more. For I had seen that very buck in Paradise myself, a few times, and on more than one occasion talking with Usury in her office. There is no doubt in my mind that she had sent them.

General Vermillion, we have been betrayed. I humbly request more resources be allocated into getting to the bottom of this. And it is of my opinion that the agreement with Paradise be amended. For their treachery. For their inability to meet our needs. We should take action and at the bare minimum sever ties and look elsewhere. With a small investment of additional forces, I can dedicate a team to collecting more volunteers from the local population. And while that may help increase the flow of volunteers, I fear Paradise itself might still be a threat to our plans as long as Usury is in power.

Personally I would very much like to turn my forces loose on them, and teach them the error of their ways for betraying Red Eye’s trust. And I must admit that a smile crosses my face when I imagine telling Stubs that he’s free to have his revenge on them for the bullet put in his back, and the kind of carnage that would bring upon them. But, it is not my call. I am loyal soldier of Red Eye’s Army and will follow whatever orders I am given. But please know that, should that be the case, I would be willing to take on the additional duties to see it done. For the future glory of Equestria. For Red Eye!

Never the less, it is with the greatest of frustrations that I must now attempt to make up for Paradise’s ‘blunders’. Paradise has failed to meet expectations. Once again! There is a team coming to collect the volunteers here, but all Usury had given us was an old couple! Despite the previous agreement. The only salvageable aspect of it is that they are a pair of unicorns, and given Red Eye’s mandate on the importance of unicorn volunteers I felt it important enough to give them a personal guard. To make sure nothing happens to them before the transfer team can claim them. So I will be leaving shortly, and taking every pony under my command with me, save for Stubs who will remain behind, alone, and keep watch of our new volunteers. I hope to capture a few more volunteers myself, and get them back in time to be sent along with the unicorn couple. But given the short time frame before the transfer team’s arrival I do not think we will have much chance of success in returning in time for this shipment. So we will simply keep whoever we find until the next scheduled transfer.

Faithfully your humble servant,

In service to Red Eye

Commander Pancake.”

The other Red Eye soldiers around stand with their mouth agape, but silent otherwise, as Wild Strikes finishes reading the letter with the letter shaking along with the forehoof she has holding it.

Gearing breaks the silence as he says with a scoff, “That asshole… He played it off like it was no big deal or I was mistaken.” He sits down and folds his forelegs in front of his chest. “I thought it was fishy how nonchalant he was about the whole thing, he knew I was right!”

The mare with the binoculars looks over at Wild Strikes and asks, “What are we going to do, ma’am?”

“We have a duty to attend to,” Wild Strikes says as she carefully folds the letter back up, and then stows the entire stack in her saddlebag.

“Speaking of which,” Gearing chimes in before he jumps over the trip lines again and comes back out of Pancake’s room with a folder of paper. He offers it to her with a pen sticking out of the top as he says, “I need you to sign that you’ve taken possession of the two. Forms already filled out, and I’ve already signed them, but I need you to sign both copies too.”

“Yes, yes, I know how requisitions work,” Wild Strikes says with a snort as she snatches the folder, opens it, quickly signs, closes it back up, and then practically throws it back at Gearing.

Cupola asks, “Ma’am, weren’t we supposed to go to Paradise before heading back? With the new requisition contract to give to them?”

Gearing says with a menacing chuckle, “Oh, I wouldn’t mind heading to Paradise for you and giving it to them…”

Wild Strikes whips her head over to look at Gearing as she purses her lips to the side. After a few moments consideration she asks flatly, “Commander Pancake knew you well enough that had he told you the truth, you’d likely start popping Usury’s associates like you did those ghouls, right?”

Gearing looks at her and shrugs as he says, “I never got the bastard that shot me and almost killed my friends…” He stares at her for a moment before he says, “Whoa! I don’t mean I’d go rogue.” He stands up strait and puts a hoof to his chest, “I’m a loyal soldier and I follow orders. I don’t have to like them, but I’ll follow them.”

Wild Strikes looks back at her saddlebag as she snorts, “This needs looking into, but I need to get that contract to them, and get these volunteers back to Fillydelphia.” She looks at Gearing for a moment before she stomps towards him and puts a hoof to his muzzle. “I can’t risk loosing the few we do have, so I want you to take this contract to them while we hurry up and head back to Fillydelphia. But you are not allowed to start a fight and do not let on that we’re suspicious of them at all. Keep your anger in check, you understand me?”

Cupola asks as she frowns, “You sure that’s such a good idea, ma’am? All by himself?”

Gearing stares at Wild Strikes as he grumbles for a few moments before asking, “What if they shoot at me first? You ordering me to just stand there and die?”

A malicious smile crosses Wild Strikes’ muzzle before she says, “Oh no… I want you to take down as many of those traitors as you can, but on the way out!” She taps him on his chest armor a few times, causing him to rock back from the clanking impacts as she says, “You’re priority is to survive. I’m ordering you to get the hell out of there, and get to safety. If they try that shit, report back. Go all the way to Fillydelphia if you have to. But make sure word gets back about what happened. You’re not just a fighter, you’re a survivor. So survive!”

Gearing groans as he hangs his head and replies miserably, “Yes, ma’am.”

She pulls out a scroll from her bag and a carved wooden red and black badge, with the eponymous Red Eye in the very center of it, and passes them both over to Gearing as she says, “Here’s the contract. And this badge will let the ones at the gate know you’re there on official business from Red Eye.”

Gearing straightens up and nods as he takes it. “Understood.”

Wild Strikes leans in and stares at the goggles blocking Gearing’s eyes as she asks, “Now… repeat the orders I just gave you… as you understand them… just so we’re on the same page.”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and then replies with a monotone voice, “After you leave, I’m to go to Paradise to deliver the new contract to Usury. Show them the badge so they know who I am. Do not let any of them know that we’re onto them and the epic flank kicking that’s coming. But if any of them attack me, I’m free to rip their ass to pieces as long as I can get away and report on the ambush. My survival and confirmed report is more important than body count. So don’t take any risks and run to Fillydelphia if I have to.”

Wild Strikes smirks as she says, “Close enough.” She turns and heads towards the slave cages as she says, “Alright let’s get out of here.”

Gearing hops into the private quarters of Commander Pancake before coming out and following the group. He runs around the others and up to the cage as he looks in at the pair of unicorns inside. “Your escort is here.” He partially lifts one of the dead ghouls, then kicks it off to the side before he unlocks the gate and pulls it open. He motions them out, and they slowly obey with their heads hanging low. As they are walking past, Gearing adds, “They’ll keep you safe.” He slowly closes the gate behind them then passes a control box to Wild Strikes. “Here you go. They’re your responsibility now.”

The dark mare takes the remote and puts it into a pouch on her foreleg before she nods and whistles. She motions with her head and they all start walking towards the front of the complex. She looks at the two elderly unicorns and frowns as she says, “Come along you two, we’ve got a long way to go.”

Gearing escorts them to the front fence, and, as they are walking out, he says loudly, “Good luck and please be safe.”

The Red Eye soldiers wave it off nonchalantly, but the elderly unicorn mare dares a glance back and sees that though he’s looking the area over, the moment he noticed her look at him, he locked eyes with her. And the smallest smile crosses her mouth before she nods and mouths, “Thank you. You’re still a good buck,” as she doesn’t break stride.

‘We forgot to tell them that those control boxes are faulty… oh well,’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments as he looks on with a blank stare.

Was I supposed to tell them that I ripped out the transmitter in it? Oops… Gearing mentally replies back as he watches them continue to walk away and jumps up on top of a tipped over mining cart and rests his forehoofs on top of a taller piece of rusted out machinery. Should I tell them?

Both him and his mental companion say, in unison, ‘‘Naaaahhh.’’

It’s the best I can do for them, Gearing groans as he slowly lowers his head and intentionally clanks it against the rusted metal of the machine.

‘This…. This is the part I hated of the plan…’ the little blue pegasus says with a sigh as he looks at the ground and tries desperately not to notice the pair of elderly unicorns getting marched off to their doom.

At least it was only two… If they’d had them spread out more I wouldn’t have been able to get away with rescuing as many as I did… Too many witnesses that might sell the information for their own benefit… like… life… and … freedom… Gearing groans as he bangs his head on the machine a few more times, creating a soft clank as his helmet gets scuffed up on the edge.

* * *

As the group is walking through the area up the nearby hill where they’d been watching the camp for hours not long ago, the mare with the binoculars asks, “Is that really such a great idea to leave him back there by himself? You really think he’s going to listen?”

Wild Strikes looks over at her and gives her a smirk as she says, “I don’t know what’s going on with that dynamic. But apparently his commander trusts him enough to watch the base all by himself… And, with good reason. We just need to focus on getting back to Fillydelphia and reporting about all of this.” She shakes her head and snarls as she says, “If Pancake and Stubs are right, something has to be done, and sooner than later.”

A rifle report greets them, and they all glance back towards the camp quickly and dart their ears around as they focus on the sound.

“What’s he shooting now?” Wild Strikes asks as she looks over her shoulder at the camp that’s still waving the Red Eye’s Army banner.

One of the bucks asks with a sigh, “Does that buck ever get a break?”

Cupola looks through her binoculars then her ears jump up in alarm as she says, “He’s pointing his rifle at us!”

They all look around at each other to see where the bullet was meant for, including the two unicorn prisoners who have a slight tinge of hope that maybe he’s changed his mind on rescuing them.

Budda budda thump thumpa budda.

A meaty thumping sound grows in their ears and they all turn to look up the hill in time to see a ghoul cartwheeling down the hill. They quickly part like water around it to avoid its attack, yet it simply passes right through their little herd. And, given the way its limbs flail about in a rag doll fashion, they’re pretty sure it isn’t simply having some wonky ghouly fun. It crashes into one of the larger rocks jutting out of the ground and warps around it as it comes to a rest with a sickening splat.

Cupola hops over and pulls out a knife as she jumps on the ghoul, but then simply pushes its head to the side. She stows the knife and looks back at Wild Strikes as she points at the bullet exit wound on the side of the ghoul’s head. “I found who he was shooting…”

A buck that’d jumped out of the way of the falling ghoul whistles lightly before he says, “That was a hell of a shot… and with a carbine?”

Wild Strikes looks over at the camp and a smile crosses her muzzle as she says quietly, “Stubs, huh? ... I’ll remember the name.”

The mare with the binoculars around her neck asks with a sheepish grin, “And uh… just why aren’t we taking him with us? We could totally use the extra support.”

Wild Strikes turns and motions for everyone to continue along with her as she says, “We all have our orders. That’s why… And from what I’ve seen, that camp needs somepony like him there or the whole thing will crumble.”

Cupola grins as she trots up next to their leader and asks, “So, how about a request for transfer then? Swap him out for another group; that should even it up. Then we get Commander Pancake to add him to our unit.”

Wild Strikes rolls her eyes and smirks before she says, “I’ll think about it.”

Cupola starts practically bouncing as she squeals with glee.

The buck that’d won a sparkle cola from her on a bet looks over at her and asks with a grin, “If you’re that hard up looking to shack up with him, why don’t you run back and have some fun in the hay? He’s home all alone and, after falling off that conveyor belt, I’m sure he’s got all kinds of ouches you could make feel better for him.”

Another buck shakes his head as he asks, “What the hell’s got you so hot and bothered by him anyway? You never even seen his face, he could look like a ghoul’s testicle under that helmet.”

She points back towards the dead ghoul as she asks, “Did you see that shot?! One round! I’d love for him to teach me how to do something like that.”

The buck that’d made the bet with her grins as he shakes his head and grins, “Yeah, right… I know that squeal… and the tone says you’re interested in his gun, but it ain’t the carbine you wanna get your hooves on.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” Cupola says as she looks off to the side. “And I don’t care what he looks like…”

There are a couple minutes of silence before she looks up and notices Wild Strikes looking at her with a smirk. They exchange eye contact for a while before the dark gray mare raises an eyebrow and asks, “Well? Are you gonna tell us you’ll catch up later or what?”

The rest of the group starts roaring with laughter as the Cupola starts stammering and stuttering as a flush starts in her cheeks and slowly grows out until it covers her entire face.

After not hearing anything either way, Wild Strikes says with a laugh, “Alright, you lot, that’s enough joking around. We got a long way to go. So keep an eye out.” She looks over at the Cupola and snickers before she says, “And, you, I don’t want to hear you bitching about it and whining about missing the chance later on. You hear me?”

* * *

Back at the camp Gearing stays at his position standing on top of the rusting shipping container as he watches the procession walk off. The entire time, he struggles with himself. He knows this really is his last chance to change his mind on rescuing the unicorn couple. And that the further away they get, the less his chance of success with it would be. But, eventually, they disappear within the rocky landscape of the hill a distance away, and Gearing loses sight of them finally. Which simultaneously makes him feel better, yet worse.

He hops down off of the shipping container and starts patrolling around the encampment again. There are a lot of things he could be doing now. There’s no one left to watch. But, he needs to make sure to give the transfer team plenty of time to get away before he heads off to Paradise. Because it would be a shame to have things fall apart at this stage when he’s managed to sew some very productive seeds. After a couple of laps, and a considerable amount of time passes, he heads over to the commander’s private quarters. After making sure no one’s following him, he hops over to the mirror, and detaches the back part of it as carefully as he can. In between the mirrored glass, and the wooden backing, are a considerable portion of letters and correspondence. He takes all of them, and stuffs them into his saddle bag as he slowly looks around. He lifts up one of the letters, and can’t help but smiling as he admires it.

The little pegasus in his head smokes on an over sized elaborate pipe before he says, ‘Mmm yes… another masterpiece… although… I messed up on that one ‘g’ right there… I accidentally copied it from a letter Stubs wrote, instead of Pancake… but other than that I think it’s more than passing.’ He starts giggling as he says, ‘The art skills required to copy diagrams has all sorts of uses, doesn’t it?’

And it makes it so much easier when you actually have the supplies they normally use… especially their wax seal… Gearing adds gleefully before putting the last couple pieces of reference material and forgeries into his bag and closing the mirror back up the way it was before.

‘Time to go to Paradise?’ the little blue pegasus asks with a grin.

Gearing’s grin turns malicious as he says, “Actually… I’m going to take out the trash first…”

Gearing leaves the commander’s quarters then does a circuit around the compound again as he looks around and does a great show of keeping an eye on the place. But, in truth, he wants to make sure that no one will be close by to see what he’s going to do. He walks by the central building, and opens up the side door before walking off to a different section of the camp. It’s still well within the walls, but out of sight of the front area and the cages where the two unicorns had been kept. The one thing it does have a lot more of is loose dried soil scattered about. Gearing heads over to a shipping container that’s partially sitting on concrete, hops onto the ancient broken concrete, crouches down, grabs the end of the shipping container, and lifts. The container strains and gives protest with a faint metallic popping noise as Gearing uses the lip of it to hoist it. But he doesn’t lift it too far, and he quickly shifts to the side to rotate it ever so much.

Revealing a dark freshly dug hole underneath the shipping container.

Gearing pulls up the abundance of cloth on his left foreleg and activates the light function on his PipBuck before he lowers his front half into the hole and looks around. Considering the inside is so dark, because it’s little more than a hole in the ground covered with a shipping container, the dim light from the PipBuck seems especially bright.

Especially as it illuminates the five tied up ponies that are, for all intents and purposes, entirely immobile. Except where a couple of them twitch here and there, especially the grayish green portly stallion that jerks suddenly when the light hits him and he struggles to get his muscles and body to do what he wants as Gearing returns to his sight.

Gearing looks at him as he sporadically twitches, and says happily, “You’ll be happy to know that your transfer team just stopped by… and they’re gone… like… long gone.” He hops down into the hole with them and grins in Pancake’s face as he says, “And you’ll be happy to know that they took alllll of those lovely letters you wrote for you.” He puts a hoof to his chest as he grins. “I mean, I had to make a few slight modifications… Added a bit here and there… Okay, I mean, I entirely rewrote the letters for you… but… they look great… So you look great.” He stands at attention and gives an official EDF salute as he says, “An extra loyal soldier doing his duty for the future of Equestria!” He chuckles a bit as he looks down at them. “My, my, my… it’s already wearing off again? I guess it’s all that fat on you…” Gearing pulls the ammo belt from under the Red Eye armor, around his neck, and quickly starts nipping one out at a time and stabbing them in the rump of the various ponies lying under him. Except Pancakes, he gets his in the neck again. “Don’t worry; this is the last time I’ll have to do this… I promise.”

Gearing quickly resecures the ratty blindfolds he’d put on them, then hoists them out of the hole, one bound and paralyzed pony at a time. Afterwards, he quickly carries them on his back, two at a time, towards the central building. Except Pancake; he gets carried on his own mainly because of his rotund girth making it hard for him to stay on Gearing’s back instead of rolling off. But with Pancake, Gearing pulls out a large duffle bag that was down there with them and carries that in his teeth. Once he has all five of them laid out on the poured concrete inside of the mine access building, he closes the door, tosses the bag onto the ground, and he starts strategically placing all of them. He goes from pony to pony with the over stuffed duffle bag, and performs quick costume changes on them. And in the process getting them quickly dressed for the part they will soon be playing.

He removes all of their bindings, except the blindfold, removes the darts sticking out of them, and dresses them back up in their normal suits of armor. Completely. As if they were about to go out on patrol. Except for the small pieces he’s commandeered for himself where applicable. And the entire time he is dressing them he openly talks. “Now, you’re probably wondering where Stubs is… Considering he wasn’t in the hole with you and all. Well, I have other plans for him. Me and him have a loooot to talk about. And since I just got some new orders from the transfer ponies, I need to get on that. I’m going to Paradise, in case you were wondering. And, yes, I’m going to be gone for quite a while. Quite a while indeed…”

Once he finishes with the last pony, Pancake, which he actually manages to get entirely into his suit of ridiculously elaborate armor from the armor stand, he walks to the front of them all and announces loudly, “Now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today.” He gives a short snicker before he simply walks away from them. He leaves and comes back with another duffle bag. He trots towards them as he’s pulling out a variety of weapons, and slinging them over his shoulders and neck. And after getting a collection of firearms on his back, and looking like a walking arsenal, he starts pulling out a variety of melee weapons and starts dropping them around on the floor around the paralyzed ponies.

Gearing looks around at how he’d laid things out, and then turns and throws a knife and a cleaver towards the one wall, causing both of them to get imbedded in wood and the sheet metal of the building respectively.

“That answer is very simple, actually,” Gearing says flatly as he starts walking around and pulling the blindfolds off of the Red Eye’s Army soldiers. And as he pulls the blindfold off of Pancake, he says right to his face, “Because there’s a special place in Tartarus for bastards like you all… and it’s about time someone arranged your travel plans.” He walks back and forth and can see the fear welling up in their eyes, even despite their body not responding to their wishes. As each and every one of them clearly knows exactly where they are right now.

And, worst of all, they can already imagine what is coming. As the noise that Gearing had made had already started attracting the attention of a few ghouls that were closer to the door and they’d started hissing and growling in their native cannibalistic ghoulish tongue.

Gearing walks over to the sealed door and says as he doesn’t even look at his captives, “You’ve all been doing despicable things. Forced labor to the point of death is bad enough. But I know of more than a few of your own personal atrocities.” He turns his head back towards them and smiles as he says, “I like to read, so I read pretty much everything.” Gearing starts working and taking all of the barricades off as he says, “Reports. Letters. Correspondence. Diaries. The works. Every little bit was helpful in figuring out where and how to place the chisel to crack this nut wide open.” He looks back at the mare with the braided and bound tail as he says, “And you, you disgusting bitch. I know all about your little colt fetish. Doing what you were doing, promising them freedom if they cooperated, threatening parents when you were able if that didn’t work, then sent them on to Fillydelphia anyways? And then clopped to the thought of it afterwards? Yeah… Consider this a tiny slice of justice for each and every one you tortured… Because I’m sure they’d love to have a piece of you if they could… but they can’t.” Gearing removes the last bar as he pulls out a key from around his neck and holds it up with a forehoof. “But I know a few others that not only can, but would happily get a piece for themselves as well…” He quickly starts undoing the locks with Pancake’s key as he snarls. “You ponies are the worst kinds of creatures. Corrupt to the core. Irredeemable. And the world will be, un-qustionably, better off with-out you!” Gearing gently pulls on the gate as he makes sure he’s removed the last barrier to do so. And, from not too far down inside the mine entrance, Gearing can hear hissing gurgling breathing from ghouls less than a hundred feet away.

Gearing slowly turns to look at the Red Eye soldiers. He’d made sure they were all facing this way when he carefully laid them out in a semi wedge formation. “But, even so… I wish I could just put a bullet in your head. I would if I could. But, given I just had to let two innocent ponies march off to their death, I’m not going to spare you from this and risk ruining everything, and waste their sacrifice. Because, I need you to die from something else. And I need to be somewhere else when it happens.” He waves a hoof around as he says, “I mean, ‘Stubs’ needs to be somewhere else. Seen somewhere else.”

He looks them over and sighs as he says, “Yeah. Those other ten? They got away. I made sure of it. And no one but you and Usury’s degenerates will ever know they were even here…” He chuckles as he says, “But, you’re gonna be dead, and no one else in the Red Eye’s Army will believe them after the letter Pancake wrote… so… there’s that.”

He walks over by them and says softly, “Take heart though… Despite being miserable excuses for ponies… you’ll probably be celebrated among your comrades. As a group that went down fighting and exposed a ‘horrible’ conspiracy against Red Eye… You’ll be heroes!” Gearing throws his forelegs out wide as he rears up and twirls around. “Isn’t that something? Well… it’ll be a hero to a bunch of disgusting sacks of shit reprobates, but heroes nevertheless.”

He walks over to the side and turns on the radio that’s on the table. It clicks on and a gravely voice comes over the radio rambling on about something that Gearing can’t quite figure out about at the moment. It’s either about a card game that he feels he was cheated at, or some kind of STI that he thinks he caught. And as separate as those issues are, even after listening for a few more moments, Gearing still can’t figure out which one it is. Gearing looks at the others as he says, “Huh… Paradise Radio… I’m not sure if this is ironic or simply fitting…” He slowly turns the radio up, until it’s blaringly loud, before he starts walking through the group of downed ponies. “Either way, it’s getting the party started!”

‘Uhhgggg, I hate that asshole's voice… If we get a chance to shut him up forever, we’re taking it,’ the little blue pegasus groans as he hears Red Beard rambling on the radio again.

From deep within the mine screams echo up, and Gearing hurries over to the gate and throws it open. There’s a couple ghouls already coming up the carved stone incline at a slow trot, and the moment they see him they starts letting out their feral screeches, which gets passed on along and down into the mine by the rest of their unnatural herd, as they charge him. Gearing, using the glowing amber eyes quickly approaching him as a target, hurls a couple of the bladed weapons he still had with him, and starts falling back away from the entrance to the mine. But even though the blades mostly strike true, the ghouls don’t care about the protrusions as much as they care about who did it.

He quickly pulls out one of the automatic riffles, backs up near the mare with the braided tail, and starts shooting at the ghouls as they emerge. He empties the entire magazine quickly, replaces it with a new one, and empties it again. Not caring as the hot brass falls down around her. Then he drops the rifle next to her as he steps up closer to the door while he pulls out his next weapon.

The first two ghouls go down riddled with bullets, and collapse a few feet from Pancake, who’s’ in the lead of the wedge formation. But the next one manages to get through all the way up until it’s actually biting on Pancake’s outstretched armored forelegs. That ghoul’s head ends up exploding like a melon as the shotgun Gearing uses completely pulverizes it’s head. And, luckily for Pancake, the vast majority of the pellets that would have hit him simply bounce off of his armor. In the same fashion as before, Gearing quickly unloads the shotgun into the vanguards of the next wave before dropping it near the buck to Pancake’s right.

Then he hops over to the side on top of Pancake and pulls out an ornate revolver. It was a weapon that was in a wooden box in Pancake’s quarters and Gearing is quite certain it’s never even seen service. He’d thought about keeping it. But, given everything else he’s doing, he’s not going to let a little mechanical wonder ruin everything. So he stands there and fires round after round into the next few ghouls coming in. All well-placed precise shots. He even gets enough time to reload and fire another five shots before any of them get to him. And he saves the last shot for the ghoul that does. Because he stabs them with sword that Pancake had hanging from the hip of his armor, skewering it right through it’s chest and to the hilt, before he puts the last round in the revolver into the creature’s head.

He drops the revolver, bouncing it off of Pancake’s helmeted head, before he hops back and uses a mouth operated SMG on the approaching ghouls as he stands near the mare to Pancake’s left. But as the ghouls get filled with lead, and the mare gets covered and surrounded with brass, he starts casually chucking metal apples down the mine entrance.

The blasts from the fragmentation grenades come at semi regular intervals, and after each one the ghouls in the mine scream with rage and pain as the noise draws more and more up to the surface. After throwing four of the five he’d found in the supply container, he empties the last of the third SMG magazine he has, and drops it near its apparent owner as he spreads his sleeve-covered wings and takes flight. He hovers up above the door to the mine. Causing the ghouls to congregate for a moment and hiss up at him as he’s the only one moving. “And that’s all folks… Try not to fight the cold; it’ll just make your suffering last longer.” And he flicks the stem off the apple and drops it down on the crowd at the door before zipping over and going out one of the broken windows as quickly as he can. The resulting blast knocks the gate sideways and warps the metal as the ghouls that had gathered there are blown to pieces by the explosion. The fragments fly out in every direction, hitting Pancake and a couple others with the projectiles and the debris, but doing minimal damage to them thanks to the armor they are wearing and the fact that they are laid out on the ground.

But not all of the ghouls die, and the ones that haven’t shed their unnatural mortal coils scream out in rage for who had hurt them. But, they don’t see Gearing. And, in fact, the other ghouls that charge up the stone ramp and out of the door don’t see anything to attack either. Nothing’s really moving, except their own injured comrades. But they know something had been attacking their herd and they aren’t happy. The others start spreading out as they start sniffing and snuffing at the air, and hissing as they know someone is close. They can hear the radio, they see that, but that’s not really anything important to them. They don’t particularly like the voice, but it’s not something worth attacking. But if they could just find out who that voice belonged to, that would be a different story.

Briiiiiiing.

An egg timer starts sounding and Pancake’s eyes go a bit wider within his helmet as he can sort of feel the vibration through his armor and the noise is echoing out of his armor.

The ghouls all start turning their head towards the sound and stare right at Pancake. They start slowly moving in and the closer they get, the stronger the smell is that they are looking for. They slowly start bearing their teeth in animalistic snarls as they hiss and, just before they pounce in mass, they begin calling out for their brethren to join them with their eerie unequine screams.

And in a matter of seconds the duel blessing of his armor and the poison he’d been injected with becomes apparent. As Pancake can’t really feel himself being attacked. But he also knows his armor is protecting him. Except, in this case, all that means is it’s taking them longer to do sufficient enough damage to kill him. And he can’t help actually hoping, praying, and begging that the armor fails before the poison’s numbing effects on him does.

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Attempting Synchronization… Please Stand By…

84 Situation Normal: All Fucked Up

Though Gearing had taken extreme pains to make sure everything was set up for his exit before he even started dismantling the barricades, that the hole he’d dug out and kept his prisoners in was properly hidden again, that evidence of his various tampering was eliminated, and all of the other things that he’d conjured up to help his cover, he still had to spirit himself away as quickly as he could away from the mining compound as he could clearly hear the ghouls’ rampaging inside of the building where he masterminded, and executed, Pancakes’ last stand. He’d have no excuse for not turning to check on the ghouls if anyone were to see him, so his only hope is that no one’s looking.

But, not trusting to hope, he uses every dirty trick he knows to practically melt into the environment as he makes good on his exit. And in doing so he quickly gets far enough away that even he can’t even hear the feral ghouls’ inequine cries. Not even on the wind.

So in short order, he manages to make it to a nearby section of the crumbling derelicts that used to be the boroughs that bordered the river and surrounded the outside of The Core. Walking through the practical rubble fields where family homes used to stand makes him a bit sad. And bitter. Very bitter. These were structures where simple ponies lived. Buildings built rapidly in some instances with the intended purpose of giving the local workforce a place to call their own and retire to after they are finished toiling at whatever job that kept them here. But, unlike the buildings that are mostly standing, they were built without any thought into warfare. They were made for comfort. For aesthetics.

Which means when the war did come to them they didn’t have the engineering, and resources, put into them that the government and big corporate buildings did. So, in a very real sense, the privileged got to stand while everyone else was trampled under hoof.

And the last thing Gearing needs right now is an inescapable reminder of his own failures and things to get him riled up. He needs to be calm. Collected. Intentional.

So the little pegasus in his head keeps mentally trying to massage his shoulders as he promises that they’ll find somepony who needs their ass kicked soon. ‘Just calm down. No reason to get your tail in a twist. Someone deserving of such dedicated attention will show up soon enough. After all, the world’s full of greedy assholes. Don’t ruin this by just trying to blow up Paradise Mall, as satisfying as that might feel.’

If it wasn’t for all of the potential slaves and innocent ponies in there I’d do it! Gearing mentally grumbles back.

‘I know you would, champ, but bite the bit instead,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments evenly.

I can do it too! Gearing mentally replies defiantly.

‘I know,’ the little blue pegasus replies evenly.

I got access to enough boom to bring the whole damn roof down! A trip to Megamart and back and all I’ll need is fifteen minutes and I’ll blow enough of the supports to wreck its structural integrity and turn them all into bastard pancakes! Extra flat! Gearing mentally rants and slowly turns into a whine.

‘Yeah you can… but then… what about all of the slaves?’ the little blue pegasus asks reasonably.

Gearing lowers his head as he groans. They’d die too. And, I’m not sacrificing any more ponies today…

‘So, we going to behave?’

For now… Gearing mentally grumbles.

‘That’s my buck!’

Fuck you, Gearing replies flatly.

‘Fuck yourself!’ the little blue pegasus retorts.

That’s what I just said, ain’t it? Gearing mentally chuckles.

While he’d had to move a bit slower than he’d wanted while he was getting away from the mining compound turned Red Eye’s Army base, once he was far enough away he didn’t care so much about being seen. So his pace steadily increased after that threshold. Especially as one frustration causing thought after another has crossed his mind. Of course he’s kept an eye out on his surroundings as he’s been going. He’s not a complete idiot, even while pissed off. But to anyone else looking on he’d seem like a pony on a mission. As the pace he’d set for himself was a rather fast trot that is so close to a canter that he looks ridiculous with his legs motoring away in rapid fire. But, somehow, despite his legs looking like a practical whirlwind, he maintains the same two-beat gait the entire time. Which actually draws a few looks in his direction as he’s passing a few other ponies.

However, he so utterly dismisses their existence, that he doesn’t even bother looking at them as he’s passing. At least, that’s how the heavily armed group of five ponies perceive it as he motors right past them on the way to Paradise without giving them a first, let alone second, look.

But, in truth, he’d switched his Eyes Forward Sparkle on and was already aware that four out of the five were yellow to him. The fifth was a mare that just seemed angry at the world in general. But, despite how much Gearing had actually hoped they would start something, and give both him and ‘Stubs’ all the excuse in the world to remove the whole lot of them from Equus, they keep walking on their own business. So Gearing doesn’t get the chance to strap the bomb collars dangling from their belts to their own neck before blowing their minds.

Although he does have a quick flight of fancy about clobbering them, strapping them with bomb collars, then hauling them off to join the two unicorns currently on their way to Fillydelphia. But he also knows that’s not exactly going to work either. Despite the sweet karmic justice of sending slavers off to die as slaves themselves just as they had done to numerous others.

But, they didn’t bother him. They didn’t even talk to him. Although the especially grumpy mare says overly loudly to her companions, “I wonder what got that Red asshole’s tail in a twist?”

But, despite the growing distance, and the much quieter tone, Gearing can clearly make out one of the bucks with her shush her and hiss at her, “He’s probably beating hooves because he’s got a message for Usury. Stay out of their way, we don’t need any more trouble than we already got.”

Whatever else is said among the group is lost to him as Gearing continues his uncomfortable looking hustle straight for Paradise.

The slavers he’d passed gave him a good indicator that he was on the right path. He’d noticed that this one in particular had some pretty heavy hoof traffic on it. Including carts or wagons, and recently at that. Judging by the tracks anyway. And after making an abrupt turn down a side street to walk around a store building of some kind, Gearing starts cutting straight across the open wasteland towards what he’s pretty sure is the main entrance instead of following the more meandering road. He’s a pony on a mission after all. And he wants everyone to know about it.

Paradise Mall strikes him as being odd. Not the old Paradise Mall that the new ‘Paradise’ is set up in. But the current era location in general. Given what it is, a din of degenerates that make money peddling pony flesh, he’d have expected some more serious defenses. Even as makeshift as they’d be. But this place isn’t exactly High Tower prison. He had expected some huge fences, maybe even multiple of them, like a typical prison. Maybe not as well built and supplied as Shattered Hoof or High Tower, but something more than what’s here. The large L shaped building, and property, looks much like it did before someone got a burr up their tail and decided mass genocide was preferable to living another day and initiated the equine apocalypse. There have been some changes, though.

Mainly in the form of the various wagon wrecks that Gearing assumes are the leftovers from shoppers who were caught out shopping on the worst day possible.

Various wagons, rent-a-wrecks, carts, and other vehicles have been consolidated in a few areas. Some of them have been converted and are currently being used as living space. Probably for the slavers. Then there’s a few that have been set up as some kind of guard outposts by flipping them on their sides. But, beyond giving a few ponies at a time cover, they really don’t do anything. Which seems to be a major oversight on their part, by Gearing’s calculations.

‘For a group that’s entire business model is devoted to antagonizing ponies and mass manufacturing suffering, they don’t seem to be too worried about reprisals or needing to seriously defend themselves,’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as it gives the entire area a critical eye as it makes note of each and every weakness they might be able to exploit. Which starts becoming a long list indeed rather quickly.

We’ll make sure to properly educate them on their mistakes in thinking that fear alone will work as a method of control permanently, Gearing mentally replies to his tiny co-conspirator.

What the slavers do seem to rely on, is their reputation and their sheer numbers. Because the number of ponies walking around in the parking lot, and going in and out of the Paradise Mall, is astounding considering what the location is known for.

‘Apparently business is good,’ the little blue pegasus comments as he scowls at the building in the distance.

Not for long if I have my way, Gearing mentally replies as he starts walking past the mall sign that’s been sitting around for over two hundred years.

Gearing groans as he reads the sign, and has to check his temper yet again.

There’s the huge blue sign with white lettering announcing the location as Paradise Mall. It had, at one point, been up on giant supports and was a practical billboard. But sometime between him being magically locked down and now, the supports failed and the sign had fallen off. But somepony, seeing an opportunity, righted it up and leaned it back against the pillars that had once held it in the air. So the one corner may be mostly crushed, but it still does the job of announcing the location.

And then there’s the various announcements of ‘serving all kinds’ and ‘special requests accepted’. And then a sign that apparently acts as a reminder to the occupants as well as it states:

‘License bearers are off limits for capture. Violators will lose their own license and end up as stock. Don’t do it!’

As Gearing is heading past it, a group of four ponies converge on him from various angles. Two coming from the right around the sign, and the other two coming from around a burnt out bus. One of the bucks on the right yells, “Whoa! You there! You got a license?!”

Gearing comes to an abrupt stop as he stares at them and growls at him, “License? I don’t need no stinking license!”

The buck grins as his eyes enlarge. “It must be my lucky day!”

A mare coming from the other side looks Gearing over then yells out, “What are you doing here?”

Gearing reaches into his bag and quickly pulls out the wooden emblem he was given. Though his actions earn him a collection of weapons pointed at him for his swift movements. And of them all, the others actually seem a bit unnerved by it, because even though he is pretty much surrounded, and with so many barrels pointed at him, he doesn’t waiver at all as he holds the red and black token aloft. “In the name of Red Eye, I demand to speak to Usury!”

The buck on the right chuckles as he looks at the buck next to him and asks, “Who’s this bozo think he is?”

The mare on the other side runs across, and apple bucks him with both hindhooves right against his head, sending him sprawling and rolling impressively back towards the back side of Paradise’s sign. She spins around and snaps at him as she points a hoof at Gearing. Or, more specifically, the badge Gearing is holding. “That thing means he was sent here by Red Eye himself! Fuck a license, that thing trumps everything. Don’t even think about it! Don’t even joke about it! Because if they don’t get you, Usury damn sure will! Especially since he’s wearing Red Eye’s army armor! How stupid are you?!”

Gearing slips the badge back into his pocket as he slowly looks around and suddenly notices that the other ponies have taken interest in anything and everything else other than him. And their weapons are politely pointed at other things. Each other in a couple instances. “Hey, you,” Gearing yells as he points at the mare that’d apple bucked her own comrade. She swears under her breath as she flinches and seems to hope he’s talking to anyone but her, but her ears fall down when she glances over and realizes that, yes, in fact he is looking, and pointing, right at her. “You seem to have the highest number of brain cells among this group. Take me to Usury, you all have delayed me long enough and I’m under strict orders.”

She bobs her head around a bit before she asks with a sigh, “Yeah, sure, what do you need her for?”

Gearing takes a menacing step towards her as he says, “What does it matter to you?!”

She rears up and waves her forelegs defensively before she says, “Whoa there, just wanted to save you some time. If all it was was a new contract, I could take you straight towards the folks that handle that. No reason to wait on Usury.”

Gearing straightens up as he replies evenly, “There is a new contract, but my orders were to deliver it directly to Usury, and no one else… Because I have a message to give her and it’s for Usury’s ears only.”

She nods quickly before she shakes her head and sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Come along this way, I’ll show you there.”

The buck picking himself up out of the dirt and spitting out blood asks with a bloody toothy smile, “Uhh… heh… just a joke… you know? I mean… Not a joke… just… we got a job too. You know? Guarding the place, right? Heh… make sure no riff raff get in.” Gearing’s stare is piercing, even through the goggles, and the buck practically whines as he asks, “So can we like… forget this happened? Please? No harm no foul, right?”

“I don’t see any reason why we should have a problem with each other,” Gearing says as he looks at him.

‘Oh I see a lot of reasons to have a problem with him,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments.

“I’m not the kind that bears grudges and don’t have the time for it,” Gearing adds.

‘I once said I could hold a grudge until after the end of the world… I was right and I have plenty of time,’ the little blue pegasus quips.

“I have better things to do; I bear you no ill will,” Gearing comments as he abruptly turns and starts following the mare towards the Paradise Mall.

‘I’m gonna kill that motherfucker at the first opportunity I get… The others too. Just wait and see,’ the little pegasus in his head grumps as it angrily crosses its forehooves across its chest.

You’re the one supposed to be helping keep me calm! Gearing mentally chastises: himself.

The little blue pegasus sits and puts his forehooves together. ‘Imagine inner peace… Let the calmness encompass your entire being. Picture the peace. Peace of mind. Peace of body. As their bodies lay silent, cold, and empty of what little consciousness they have… yes… Rest in pieces…’

Gearing lets out a snort of amusement and disgust. Although it is mostly disgust generated, and comes across that way to the few others that actually hear it. While they read it as more of disgust at the situation, and with them for delaying him, it’s far more than that. He’s disgusted with himself as well. Disgusted for even being in this situation. For how ‘well’ he’s mentally handling it. Intrusive thoughts barge right in and help to escalate the mood, and his own general disgust, with reminders of his two hundred year old failure that made this whole situation possible in the first place. Then there’s the disgust of even being within proximity of such horrendous ponies. Disgust at not being able to do anything about it right now because of his own scheming. Disgust at actually wanting to do horrible things to these horrible ponies.

So, in short, he’s disgusted with them, himself, the environment, the situation, and the universe as a whole. And the only real ‘amusement’ factoring into his audible blast of air is the self deprecating kind that’s been steeped in the festering ebony juices of dark humor and self-loathing.

Misinterpreting the sound, and actually hoping to not have to deal with him in the future, the mare asks, “Why didn’t you use the V.I.P. entrance on the north side? The guards there are used to your messengers and you’d be closer to the offices. You’d get a proper escort instead of having to deal with the types of louts that typically get stuck on the other sides.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head pulls out a drawstring bag, and rattles the contents. ‘Roll for bullshit… I hope they get it… because them starting shit with us now would make this whole thing a lot easier if they popped off the plan for us…’

Gearing snorts again before he curtly replies, “Orders.” When the mare glances over at him he continues, “I was ordered to come here, directly, as quickly as I can. We have too much going on to be wasting time unnecessarily. So I came in a straight line. There’s no point in walking around the entire place just to make things easier on idiots.” He looks right at her. “If your discipline around here is so bad that even the guards can’t follow common sense, Usury’s bound for failure. And soon. I mean, really, do you get a lot of ponies marching up, dressed in full Red Eye armor kit and bearing the official seal, trying to bluff and lie to get into this place?” He snorts again, in genuine amusement, as he finishes, “Just how dumb can you get?”

The mare bobs her head around before she says, “No. But we do get the occasional wannabe ‘hero’ snooping around trying to steal our product. I hope you can understand our caution, if nothing else.”

“I suppose I can commend your diligence to duty, if not the average intelligence of your personnel,” Gearing replies evenly.

The mare looks at him and smirks. “Thanks, I think?” She continues on, zipping around a few of the wagons turned living spaces in the crumbling parking lot as they cut across straight towards the old mall. “You have your job, and we have ours. That’s all.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head flops down onto its rear and lets out a long annoyed sigh. ‘Fuck… she bought it… Well, phooey… guess we don’t get to go running for ‘backup’…’ his frown turns into a malicious grin before he finishes, ‘yet…’

As they are traveling across the parking lot, Gearing takes note of the various ‘accommodations’ that are around as he’s passing through. A lot of them seem to be outright empty, but still used. Not abandoned. They give off an ‘owners off at work’ vibe. Which brings up a variety of problems for Gearing and he hopes his overall plan can handle this. He’s pretty sure it will, as the total numbers can’t be that high by his reckoning when he takes note of the other ‘large’ groups in The Hoof.

As they are rounding an old wheel-less bus, they come across a couple tables set outside where a few ponies sit around smoking, drinking, and playing cards. They seem to be having a grand ole time, but the merriment becomes quiet after one of them notices Gearing the ‘Red Eye Soldier’, and the mare walking by, and the change causes the others to look as well. They all stiffen up, and Gearing can feel their attentions directed right at him. Even their smoking takes on a slow deliberate quality to it as they watch them pass. But, he doesn’t meet their gaze. He tries his best not to make the same mistake they are as they are letting their hyper focus be too obvious. And, in doing so, he draws even more attention to himself as his blatant disregard for them, for all of them, starts to make them worry.

And, as they are getting a distance away, Gearing can hear one of the mares at the card table make an audible sigh of relief as they realize whatever is going on, doesn’t involve any of them.

After a bit of this weaving through the ancient wreckage turned camp, they emerge on the other side, closer to the mall. And he notices an apparently intentional gap between the old wagons, and the giant ‘L’ shaped building that makes up the old Paradise Mall. On this side, it’s rather busy, with various creatures walking in various directions. All of which seem to be decently armed, and about half of them have at least a few bomb collars and chains dangling from their bags.

One thing that caught Gearing’s eye, as they are vectoring for a section of wall that has multiple sets of glass double doors right next to each other, is the metal trailer sitting next to the side of the Paradise Mall. It’s not one that would normally be found in a place like this, he knows that. It’s one that’s more suited to be sitting in a construction site and used as a temporary office. And, to add to the weirdness of it, there’s a radio tower set up next to it that is so tall it goes up to the roof of the Paradise Mall. Sitting on the top of Paradise Mall’s roof is a variety of other dishes, pointed in various directions, and obviously used to extend the signal that’s being generated. But, the placement is a joke by Gearing’s standards. The radio tower looks like the kind that’s supposed to be deployed, for temporary usage, as the station’s mobile trailer moves around. But that’s it.

They should have taken the tower and put it on the roof if they really wanted to seriously do it. Gearing ponders.

‘What are the odds Mr. Red Bearded pain-in-our-ass is in that trailer?’ the little blue pegasus asks as it flutters around and stares at it. ‘Shit starts going down, we’re going to give it a bad case of religion, and make it all hole-y, right?’

A grenade through the window could do the job better, probably -theoretically speaking- because it’s such an enclosed space… Gearing mentally muses as he looks at it. Not that I’m planning or going to do anything like that unless I’m attacked… remember?!

‘Oh… shit… yeah…’ the little blue pegasus replies as his eyes go wide. ‘Sorry… yeah… calm… remain calm… No thoughts of attacking anyone… maintain hostility discipline… Never know when some fucker has an EFS… Calm…Remain calm… Nice cool breezes… Lots of spare parts to tinker with, and a clear ticket list… Wrapped up in Sable’s cables…’

Great… now you got me missing Sable… Gearing mentally groans.

‘Better than the alternative…’ the little blue pegasus retorts…

As the pair approach the set of glass double doors that lead into the old mall, Gearing slowly takes in the condition of them. Both doors have some damage to them. One has a spider web of cracks in it where something impacted the surface at high velocity. But whatever it was didn’t make it through. The other door looks far worse, but is still holding together despite the way it looks. The glass has entirely been shattered, but is still staying in place. Mostly. There are a few small squares of glass that are missing from the outside surface where they had fallen away from whatever glue or composite material that helps hold the safety glass together. When it comes to security glass, the original builders did a pretty good job of securing the building. Though at the time they were probably more worried about thefts than anything else.

Once inside, the atmosphere, and Gearing’s mood, take a sharp turn. For the worse.

As soon as he’s inside, he can see the various advertisements all over the place. Some old, really old at that, some new. At the kiosk that used to be Paradise Mall’s information desk, and indeed still has the giant text surrounding the mostly round desk identifying it as such, there is a large sign on an easel promoting current stock. Gearing can’t help but scowl at the euphemisms being used.

‘They’re reducing ponies down to numbers… and nothing more…’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments softly as it takes note of the “units” of stock available.

And as the mare leads ‘Stubs’ deeper into the mall, Gearing sees that it’s far more than simply ponies that are being used as barter material. Goats. Griffins. He even sees a pair of felines sitting in their respective confinement zones.

Though the strangest group, to Gearing’s sensibilities at least, is the cage with the four ghouls. At first he’s not sure if they are feral or not, but it only takes a moment to realize that they aren’t snarling and gnashing at anyone and everyone within sight. They’re rather docile and have the same downtrodden air about them as the other captives.

Each of the groups of slaves have signs hanging in front of the cages giving various details. And prices. The weirdest of which, to Gearing, again, is all of the advantages for having a ghoul slave. Low upkeep costs because they don’t need to be fed. Don’t need to breathe. Can work in radiation contaminated areas. Can work long hours. All of which are unquestionably positive traits delivered in a factual basis.

A basis that’s so pragmatic in its cold treatment of life that it churns even Gearing’s inorganic stomach.

As they are walking down the center of the hall, with old shops on both sides, Gearing takes careful note of the layout. For the most part, these slavers have converted the old stores into displaying and promoting a new type of merchandise: Pony flesh.

And they’ve done an excellent job of transforming this place into something more suitable for them.

The only information booth, designated by its huge circular desk where helpful ponies once directed shoppers to their desired stores, has been converted to a dual purpose guard post. Armed ponies guard the area from inside of it, keeping watch on the surrounding area, and a few of the computers have been set up to monitor a few cameras on their displays for the guards to see. The displays show various areas of the old mall, and clue Gearing in on where he needs to keep an extra eye out for security cameras if he ever decides to do something personally, and directly, about this place.

The little pegasus in his head zips around staring at the various monitors as he comments, ‘Well, at least we know for sure that they have a functioning security system, and eyes on them as well. Limits options, but at least we know to be cautious…’

In place of the old information and advertisements that used to be on the outside of the Information Booth’s desk, and above it hanging from cables and chains, there are more recent advertisements. All of which talk about the various costs for the various creatures they are willing to sell into servitude.

Gearing can’t help but snort when he consciously realizes the euphemism they use for slave. ‘Units’. A pony’s life distilled down to a single number: its cap value.

The little pegasus in his head doesn’t draw attention to the fact that he already noticed, and commented, on that a few moments before and instead muses, ‘Why bother trying to avoid saying what it is? Some psychological affirmation so they can have a veneer of deniability? Why? Because they fear if their mooks actually confront what they are doing on a daily basis, they might have a change of heart or something? Maybe have a spontaneous conflict of conscience? Curious…’

Just beyond the information desk is an area set up for auctions. Clearly labeled as “Auction Block” and written in rather clear script -using various supplies and on various materials- are the times and days of the various auctions which seem to be themed. The elevated stage on the far end looks to be made out of old metal boxes that make up the bulk of it with repurposed wood used to make the actual walking surface and displays. In front of the stage is a roped off area where apparently no one is allowed outside of the auction times. It’s pretty immaculately cleaned and Gearing assumes that keeping it that way is the real reason for the prohibition of traffic through it.

Of the advertisements, there are a few talking about how high value the auctions are, and tout some of the auctions’ ‘goods’ held in the past. With particular emphasis seemingly placed on the rare or unusual.

‘Wait, seaponies? Like literally seaponies? For real?’ the little pegasus in his head asks as it stares open mouthed at an advertisement for some highly successful sale in the past.

Can’t be… right? Gearing replies. Maybe they just got some changelings to trick them?

‘But wouldn’t that be really dumb and come out rather quick?’ the little pegasus retorts.

Yeah, Gearing agrees. They’d be found out… and a place like this wouldn’t be advertising it so hard and long because the ones who got scammed would be making a stink. They would have taken the adverts down at least… So they had to have something that passed the muster...

‘There’s also that funny phrasing about ‘administrating’ the auction for ‘the menagerie’… I bet it was somewhere else for someone else and they’re trying to ride coat tails off of some well known event among the high rollers…’ the little pegasus adds as he scrutinizes the strange ad closely.

Maybe, but keep an eye out either way. This isn’t like Tower Towing… these fuckers are well organized and have their shit together. Mag’s said they were extremely efficient and I can see it. A very well running machine. It’d be commendable, if it wasn’t a disgusting nightmare factory…

‘Yeah, it’s like taking Bottlecap with her business sense and work ethic, but then removing her morals, scruples, conscience… really, everything about her that even remotely makes her a decent pony, and then replacing the gaps with pure distilled greed and contempt for your fellow pony…’

They are sisters, Gearing points out.

‘Well… when it came to Usury’s turn, her father should have made his deposit elsewhere… like a fire… or up the tailpipe with the rest of the piles of shit… or anywhere else on Equus that wouldn’t result in the creation of this monster.’ the little pegasus quips.

The display windows for various stores in the mall have been converted over to display other “products” as well. Mainly they seem to be higher end “merchandise” compared to the others crammed in cages, judging by the prices at least. One store that used to be a lingerie chain store, now has a few ponies gussied up for obvious sex work purposes. Mares on one side of the door. Bucks in the display window of the other one. All of which give cringey forced smiles when they see Gearing being led in their direction.

And as he is led further into the mall by the slaving guardsmare, and they start actually passing the old lingerie shop, he can’t help but wholeheartedly agreeing with his mental roommate.

On either side of the store’s entrance are large windows where ponaquins used to be dressed up with the latest in ‘bedroom accessories’. But, now, instead of random happy looking pony-shaped inanimate objects showing off barely there lacy bits, now it’s obviously unhappy ponies that are the merchandise being offered to those passing by. On the left side is a pair of young mares. Not quite fillies anymore, but still way too young for what’s being implied. In the display on the right side of the door is a pair of bucks. One dressed up with a yolk and a lot of gear to seemingly show how much work the earth pony is capable of. The other is a more trim buck, dressed up like some kind of heart throb idol from the prewar era with his mane immaculately trimmed. Both of which were targeting different, yet similar, audiences.

And all four of the ponies have a bomb collar strapped around their neck preventing them from doing anything they’d really want to do that their owners don’t want. Like leaving.

Gearing and the smaller buck stare at each other for a fraction of a second as he’s passing the window, before the buck quickly looks away. And Gearing’s eyelid twitches inside his mask as he catches the micro movements of the buck’s tail tucking in more between his legs and the muscles of his haunches flexing with an involuntary clench.

But Gearing keeps his head rotating in general casual sweeps as he keeps pace behind his guide.

‘So, that plan you’d talked about earlier? I’ve noted optimal locations for placing the charges, and extrapolated based on what I’ve already seen for where the other best places would be,’ the little pegasus in his head starts commenting evenly as it looks over some papers. ‘I’ve also taken the liberty of taking pictures of each and every future point of failure for easier reference for whenever you decide the need has arised.’

Gearing keeps staring ahead as his lips form a slight smile under his mask as he mentally replies, Thank you. Be sure to save that for the party later…

The little pegasus salutes and then quickly starts storing the detailed information in filing cabinets that just pop out of the cloudy ground of the mental space of Gearing’s head.

Not long after Gearing has detailed flights of fancy about just blowing the entire mall to hell, the slaver that’s providing him escort makes a turn and heads down a side hallway. As Gearing follows her, he takes note that this side hallway wasn’t for shops, but was a small area where offices were and it even has a large conference room that the old mall used to use for its own meetings, and would even let ponies rent it out when not in official use.

And from that conference room a buck’s voice comes through the door that’s been left ajar.

“-and with Tower Towing out of business, we don’t have to worry about them poaching our hunters anymore.”

“I know you didn’t like them, but don’t celebrate too much,” a mare’s voice replies evenly. “With them gone, we can’t use them to supplement orders on that side of the mountains. So that entire zone is a waste to us. Too costly to set up ourselves over there and with that menace running around down there slaughtering hunters, we’re not likely to make any positive arrangements with anyone new anytime soon. So we’re out a harvesting source even if they won’t be taking our workers. It’s a net negative overall.”

“What about the rumors that the same buck’s set up shop up here in Hoofington?” the buck asks.

“Don’t even joke about that!” the mare snaps. “That bitch Security’s a damn symbol that needs to be stomped out before too many others get any bright ideas. Once Sanguine gets what he wants from her, and that monster of his is through with her, we’ll all be better off. According to Sanguine it shouldn’t be long now. So we’ll be able to get back to business as usual soon after that happens. But that murderer rampaging around Tower Towing is something else entirely. He’s a psychopath. A serial killer. He’s not fooling me. He didn’t take payment for anything he did, his payment is the ‘opportunity’ to kill more. He gets his jollies wasting folks, and was smart enough to be choosy about his targets so most ponies wouldn’t give him a second thought about what he’s doing. But as long as he’s far away from us, we’ll be fine. He’ll eventually show his true colors and then someone else will take him down. Probably Red Eye with the way he’s stirring up trouble and disrupting the supply chain.”

“You don’t think he’s connected to the buck that smashed that bounty hunter’s head in, in front of like a hundred witnesses, by Megamart? With his bare hoof? Really, Usury?”

“Celestia’s solar-powered mareheat, I hope not! If he finds us, he’s going to set up shop and start popping us one by one like-”

The mare inside stops midsentence as the mare guiding ‘Stubs’ knocks on the metal door frame of the conference room.

As she is announcing their presence, the little pegasus in Gearing’s head is grinning with sparkling eyes. ‘Ohhhhh she knows me! Awwwwww!’

I wonder what she’d do if I just pulled this head covering off as soon as I walk in…

‘Probably shit herself and start repenting to whatever god a slaving bitch like her believes in…’ the little pegasus giggles.

Yeah… that would be funny.. Oh, show time! Gearing mentally responds.

The door opens as the mare’s annoyed voice from the inside indicates she hasn’t moved a step while the buck opened the door, “What now?”

The guardsmare cringes a bit before she replies, “An envoy from Red Eye is here to see you.”

A loud and meaty, and predictably painful, sound escapes the conference room as Usury facehoofs herself. She lets out a sigh as she mutters quietly, “Just what I need right now…” Her voice picks up as she says louder, “Show them to my office, I’ll be there shortly.”

The guardsmare gives Usury a cringey smile as she says, “Uhm… about that…” Her eyes dart sideways towards Gearing a few times as no one says anything.

Gearing takes the opportunity and walks around behind the guardsmare to reveal himself to the occupants of the conference room as he looks in. The older stallion -that is still standing by the door after opening it- has a pleasing expression on his face, at least to Gearing, as his eyes bug out the moment he sees ‘Stubs’ and realizes he must have been next to the guardsmare the entire time. And there, behind the stallion, and standing overlooking a large hoofdrawn map with a practical library of paperwork around it and pinned to the walls is the only other individual in the conference room. The infamous Usury. A mare who, by Gearing’s reckoning, has a far too cheerful color-pallet about her for the atrocities she oh so regularly commits. Though, unlike the still flabbergasted buck, Usury quickly recovered and got in control of her emotions before her eyes entirely fell out of her head from surprise.

Although his muzzle doesn’t move after pointing straight at Usury, Gearing’s eyes travel over her form at record speed. He takes in every detail he can of the individual as he confirms his target and gathers every iota of information about her as he can. The fact she’s wearing an immaculately taken care of business suit gives Gearing a slew of ammo. The suit’s still rather old and used. But not nearly two centuries plus old. It was tailored, for her, on this side of the apocalypse. And then there are the small barely noticeable patch jobs over the entire thing. So well fixed that if it weren’t for the fact that his mother was a seamstress he might have not noticed. It’s a practical work of art. And she’s wearing it. While most other’s are wearing rags, rusted armor, and other decaying hand-me-downs.

‘Noble’s level of excess… perfect ammo… stored for later…’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments as he flutters around and makes a flurry of notes about every little thing he can use against her later.

Before she can say anything though, Gearing seizes the initiative by engaging her in conversation first. “Usury, I come officially representing Red Eye.” He flips up his hoof and balances the wooden Red Eye’s token on his booted hoof. The sight of which does actually make her visibly twitch. “I would like to get down to business at your earliest convenience… but there’s no need to make any preparations for me. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather skip all the unnecessary pleasantries and just get down to it. The faster we’re done the better for me. As soon as we conclude my business here I’m needed elsewhere and will be leaving directly.”

Usury gives him a wide smile as she nods. “Yes. Of course. Let’s go take care of that now. Always time for our favorite customers.” She starts trotting around the table at a pace that seems like she’s forcing herself to be casual when she’s really wanting to run. “Follow me please, and we’ll conclude our business in my office.”

The guardsmare slinks out of the way on one side of the door as Gearing casually side steps the other way and allows the business mare to pass. He turns and follows her closely while being slightly off to the side as she continues down the long side hallway back towards a sign that says “Offices”. The other two ponies fall in line behind Gearing and bring up the rear as they march side by side behind him. But Gearing, even after taking note of their positioning by their footfalls, doesn’t so much as look back over his shoulder at them. Instead he keeps his head high and straight on as he follows Usury.

The little blue pegasus in his head starts panting and drooling as he says, ‘Shoot me… come on, you two… shoot me! I want you to! Right in the ass! Give it to me!’ He starts breathing hot and heavily as he says, ‘Hurt me. Maim me. Destroy me! At least try! Daddy likey hot and hard!’

And if they do, we get to introduce them to the taste of their own bowels by shoving their heads up their own asses… Gearing mentally retorts.

‘Ohhh yeeaahhh… that’s hot…’ the little pegasus groans as it hugs itself.

Calm down, you fucking freak, before you wake up a real monster and make it awkward to walk… Gearing chastises the giddy part of himself that’s having delusions of grandeur about running stampede over this whole place by himself.

A door on the opposite side of the hall is wide open under the “Offices” sign and Usury turns and walks right in. Gearing takes note of the brass plaque on the wall to the right of the door in the hallway that declares “Administration Offices”. Inside the Admin Office Gearing takes quick stock of all he can see. The room just inside the door looks like a combination waiting room and secretary staging area as there’s a desk where somepony typically deals with paperwork and transcribes written documents onto the computer that is powered on and seemingly fully functional. There are five doors leading out from this central point. One on the left and right walls, and three in the one directly in front of them in the remaining wall, respectively. The two left doors are closed, and the right door of the central three has a table covered in junk blocking it off and showing it’s not used as an entryway anymore.

From the very center door a mare comes out of the room, seemingly drawn by Usury’s hoofsteps. The young mare is pushing a small cart loaded with paperwork and boxes, and seems particularly well off. Her hair is well maintained and her blouse and skirt are not only clean but neat and tidy. She looks like a stereotypical secretary, maybe even on the fetish side of it when her glasses are factored in, and would have fit in in any office setting pre-apocalypse. At least, she would, if it wasn’t for the fact that her outfit is completed with jewelry adorning her neck of an explosive nature.

Noticing the active bomb collar on the young mare makes the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head shove both forehooves into his own mouth to keep from blowing his lid, and their cover.

The young mare’s gaze locks onto Usury as she speaks, “Madam Usury, I have placed the documents you asked for at your desk. The other relevant files are here and I was about to bring them to you in the conference room. Shall I continue with that or has your schedule changed?”

Usury replies flatly, “Change of plans with the arrival of an important guest. Remain on standby in case we need anything.”

The young mare nods and smiles as she dips her head in acknowledgment. “As you wish.” As she’s bringing her head up, the smile on her face freezes for a moment as she locks eyes with the goggled full headed mask that Gearing is wearing. Her eyes momentarily shoot so wide they practically rattle inside her head. But, as Gearing notes, in that short time her eyes zipped all over his body taking in the various details of his Red Eye’s army regalia.

That’s a survival skill trauma response if I’ve ever seen one… Gearing mentally mutters.

‘Mmmhmmm’ the little pegasus in his head agrees around a mouthful of hoof.

The young mare grabs the loaded cart and slides it sideways out of the way, not that it really was in the way in the first place, and quickly stows it by her apparent work desk. She dips her head respectfully, avoiding eye contact with all of them as they pass her, as she replies quietly, “Let me know if you need anything...”

Usury continues leading the procession and once through the doorway Gearing quickly takes stock of the layout of Usury’s office. And it explains that one door being partially covered up with a table from the other side.

Usury’s office is made up of all three offices on this side of the Administration Offices area that make an ‘L’ shape comprised of the center office and the two on the right. The walls that separated them have been torn down to their large metal studs, and most of the vertical metal studs had been removed as well. And though the floor plan had been so drastically altered from its original construction, there are still three very distinctive areas. Right in front of the door that leads to the secretary’s desk, the one they’d just entered through, is a collection of tables covered in documents and paperwork. Along with a ring of filing cabinets that take up the remaining three walls.

The area that used to be the right corner office has been converted into something that resembles a lounge of sorts. There’s multiple cushions arranged for pony’s to sit in a way that then can all converse. Along with a loveseat and a full sized couch. On the wall where the door to this office is, and is now blocked on both sides, there is a large wooden and glass china cabinet that is slam full of various liquors. The craftsmanship of it, even from a distance, tells Gearing that the furniture itself is an expensive piece. Even before the bombs dropped, this was the sort of thing that only nobles had in their homes. Or maybe the odd uber rich CEO. He can’t even begin to calculate how much that one piece alone would be worth in current society. And that’s before the crystal containers with their gold and silver utensil sets were added on. It’s an intentional display of wealth that quickly threatens Gearing’s discipline.

For it was all, quite literally, paid for with innocent blood and lives.

Usury notices Gearing staring at it as she’s looking over her shoulder on her way to a large wooden desk near the far wall. She casually pulls a chain around her neck and bats a key on it before she playfully twirls it with a hoof. “Would you care for some refreshments? We have the full line of Sparkle Colas… ice made from purified water… Chips, popcorn, snack cakes, pretty much anything you could want. Or, if you’re in the mood for something a little stronger, my private cabinet is at least on par with those Elysium Nobles, if not better.”

Gearing casually shakes his head and replies, “No thanks. I’m on duty and have more work to do before the day’s over.”

Usury gives him a coy smile as nods lightly. “I see. I see. Well… Do let me know if you change your mind, hmmm?” She motions with the key towards the couch as she says, “Please, have a seat, and we can get down to business,” and then continues past the lounge area as she’s stowing her key again.

Gearing walks right past all of the sitting furniture, keeping pace with her, as he says, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stand. Besides, I had a rough start to the day and wouldn’t want to get them dirty.” He tilts one of his legs to the side where there’s still a smudge of clearly ghoulish blood.

She grimaces at the sight, and more so as taking more of a look at him makes her notice the rest of the dirt, grim, and extremely recent battle damage on his armor. “Ah, now I see why you want to hurry up and get home! Thanks for your consideration. It’s appreciated.” She settles onto the other side of the desk and turns to face him as she asks, “Well now, how may we help the great Red Eye today?”

As Gearing is getting into a neutral position in front of the desk, keeping his face towards Usury, he narrows his focus on the third area that makes up this ‘office’. Through the gaps in a couple dividers that are set up, Gearing gets a pretty good mental picture that the old office has been converted into her private quarters. Much like her sister Bottlecap, the overall room has multiple purposes to it. But through the gaps he noticed a rather large bed, neat and tiddly made, and a couple other pieces of furniture that scream ‘bedroom’.

His EFS also lets him know that there’s no one lying in wait behind there to stage an ambush on him. A fact that he has mixed feelings on.

Gearing pulls out the scroll that Wild Strikes had given him earlier in the day and holds it up with a hoof as he says, “I’ve brought a contract that I’ve been ordered to give to you, directly.” He walks up casually and sets it on the desk in front of her, but keeps his booted hoof on it.

Usury nods and smiles as she reaches for it, but the smile fades and she raises an eyebrow as Gearing is putting just enough force on it that she can’t actually grab it.

Gearing adds, “I also have a message to deliver to you.”

Usury frowns as she relents and lets go of the scroll. “Well, if it’s so important, let me have it and I’ll see what we need to do.”

Gearing keeps his face on her for a moment before tilting his head enough to look behind him and replies flatly, “Your ears only… Direct orders.”

Usury cringes out of Gearing’s line of sight, or so she thinks, before she says amicably, “It must be important…” She makes a show of leaning sideways to look at the other two behind Gearing. “You two go wait in the conference room. We’ll call if you’re needed.”

The buck gives a snort and glares at Gearing disapprovingly as he’s turning to leave. “Yes ma’am.”

The guardsmare smiles widely as she says, “Well, actually, I could just go back to my guard post...?”

Usury shakes her head. “No. You brought him. You can lead him back out when we’re done here. He’s in a rush, obviously.”

The guardsmare slightly deflates as she bobs her head around and starts walking out. “Alright, alright…”

Before they get too far away Gearing calls after them, “Shut both doors, and make sure to take that slave out there with you.” They all look at him with a raised eyebrow before their eyes uniformly jump open in shock at his next line. “Otherwise if I catch her eavesdropping I’ll have to give that collar a little yank and you’re going to have a mess to clean up shortly after.”

“Whoa, brutal,” the guardsmare says as she starts picking up her pace. “Yeah, I’m not messing around any Red Eye’s bucks…”

The young mare in question had poked her head in, and her eyes are wide open as she visibly shakes and looks at Usury for some kind of relief.

Usury scowls as she stares at Gearing’s back as she says, “There’s no need to go threatening my help like that.”

Gearing looks back at her and says, “Stating fact. Your ears only means Your. Ears. Only. Don’t need her hearing something she shouldn’t and becoming a liability.” He turns back and stares right at the young mare. “I’m serious about it too. I don’t care what Usury says. I find out you’re eavesdropping, I’ll trigger your collar without a second thought or hesitation.”

Usury scowls even harder before visibly taking in a deep breath and letting it out with her eyes closed. She opens her eyes, which become especially sharp, as she looks right at the slave mare. “Go into the conference room with them and start organizing the papers we were working on before we had to stop. If anything happens that needs my attention, knock on my bedroom door and wait for me to come out.”

The young mare looks at her and a genuinely grateful smile appears across her muzzles before she dips her head and says happily, “Yes, Madam. Thank you, Madam.” And then she turns around and zips out of there as quickly as she can.

The buck gives Gearing a glaring scowl with a snort before he too finally leaves. The guardsmare had already made good on her own escape just before the slave did. And only ended up being the second one out in the hallway because the young slave ran so fast to get away from Gearing that she passed her during her blitz to the conference room.

Gearing stands there staring at the door as it’s closed, then makes a show of turning his head and tilting it in the direction of the door as he listens for the soft closing of the hallway’s door. But it comes across clearly as the buck had slammed that door on his way out into the hallway.

As he’s staring at the door, Usury asks flatly, “Want to go open the door and double check?”

Gearing shakes his head as he turns towards her. “No. Their hooffalls were pretty definitive.”

Usury casually grabs the scroll and opens it up as she says, “Now let’s see what the big deal is all about.”

Gearing notes that she intentionally changed subjects and decided not to prolong the meeting by chastising him for his behavior. Or, he realizes, she either doesn’t want to open that particular can of worms, if not actually being used to such abrasiveness.

Usury purses her lips to the side as she reads the document. During her second read through she nods slowly as she says, “This certainly is a big order…” She glances up at him. “But why the need for secrecy?”

Gearing shakes his head as he says, “The contract is just that, the latest contract for us to receive more volunteers. That’s a separate issue.”

“If this isn’t the message, then what is?”

The little blue pegasus pulls out an oversized boom mic, and wears a headset as he hovers over the conversation and looks at Gearing. ‘You got this, champ. Do your thing.’

Gearing replies, “In short we’re really disappointed with the ongoing problems with supply. And the most recent delivery was unacceptable. The team that’s relaying them was displeased to say the least.”

Usury’s eyes go wide as she says, “Well- You see- I know you need more volunteers, but, what you have to understand is-”

“There have been difficulties that are causing you to not live up to Red Eye’s expectation?” Gearing interrupts and asks.

Usury cringes a bit as she says, “Well, yeah, but it sounds so much worse when you phrase it like that.”

“Usury, we all have expectations and obligations that we need to rise to. I understand you’re having difficulties rounding up volunteers for us. You’ve had losses. So had we. But the shortcomings are starting to cause problems and we’re feeling the pressure from above.”

Usury frowns as she says, “We’re doing the best we can to fulfill our agreements with Red Eye. The market’s just a bit… unstable right now.”

“Usury, I’m not trying to make things difficult for you. The fact is, we need those bodies. Whatever is going on needs to be dealt with.” He steps a bit closer and says a bit quieter, “Look. I completely understand, alright? It’s not your fault. I get that. That’s why I’m trying to help you.”

“Help me? How?” Usury asks with clear shock in her voice.

“The pressures coming down hard.” He shakes his head. “Red Eye has big big plans, and he needs the resources to see them happen. And because of that there’s less leniency with underperformance. I’m trying to warn you that you need to get your house in order and prevent any further problems. Or you’ll have to answer for it personally.”

Usury blinks a few times before scoffing. “Personally? Me?”

Gearing waves a hoof as he says, “Look, the way it is we’re having to make up for Paradise’s shortcomings. Red Eye states his displeasure to his right hoof. His right hoof complains to their subordinate. Her subordinate yells at my boss’s boss. My boss’s boss threatens my boss. And my boss, Commander Pancake, gives me an ultimatum to either get this shit fixed or it’s my flank in the hot seat and I’m not dealing with that. As it is, Pancake’s personally trying to round up some volunteers to pad the numbers as we speak…”

Usury looks genuinely taken aback as she asks, “Pancake’s out hunting? Him?!”

Gearing nods and Usury’s face takes on a grime expression as she starts quickly doing some mental math of her own. “Usury, I need something I can deliver, not more excuses,” Gearing finally says.

“Hmmm,” Usury mumbles to herself, “something to deliver…”

“Did you have something in mind?” Gearing asks with a bit of hope in his voice.

Usury taps her forehooves together a bit as she ponders it all over. “Our entire pipeline’s been shaken up by a few unfortunate disruptions. But I’m anticipating that to only last a bit longer. The core problem will be solved in a couple days, and then, after that, things will start getting back to normal. And we’ll be able to return to previous output levels… I just need a bit more time to sort out a few problems -problematic individuals- and the damage to my supply line will stop. Then I can fix what’s been broken.”

“Usury, that just sounds like promises. I can’t take promises back to Red Eye,” Gearing replies with a sigh.

Usury taps her forehooves together a few more times, deliberately, before she says, “I’ll tell you what… We can help each other…”

Gearing tilts his head. “How?”

Usury waves her hoof nonchalantly. “Well, you need something to deliver, and I need a bit more time to sort things out so I can truly deliver. You scratch my withers and I’ll scratch yours. A Win–Win all around.”

“And I’m meant to make time for you somehow?” Gearing asks.

Usury waves towards him. “We already have contracts established. We’ve been working together for quite some time. And it’s been a very profitable relationship from our standpoint. I’d very much like to see that continue. So, I have a proposal.” Gearing motions for her to continue, so she smiles and does. “Red Eye’s main concern is the lack of bodies. He needs more. We can provide that. That’s our entire business, after all. And if you need a token to help you convince them that we’re going to be able to meet our future obligations, I’m more than willing to help you by providing them for you by moving around fulfillment orders.”

“And you want me to… what exactly?”

“You just take them, and help fill in the holes you’re having. My hope is that it will bridge us over this bit of unpleasantness and get us back on track to where we should be,” Usury comments reasonably. She smiles as she waves a hoof at him. “Since Pancakes is already out hunting, you could even claim responsibility for the extras. That should give you some breathing room and ease the pressure from above, right?” She waves a hoof for emphasis as she grins. “Earn yourself some glory in the army. Who knows what might come from it? I’m not asking you to fudge paperwork here. You’ll have the numbers… I’ll even keep it off the books on our side so nopony’ll know where you got them. All I’m asking in return is a bit more patience and understanding while we deal with a couple nuisances… sound good?”

“Usury, it’s not about ‘personal glory’,” Gearing replies sharply and earns a just as sharp frown from Usury. “It’s for the future of Equestria. For Red Eye… But, that said,” he bobs his head around and cheerily responds, “I accept your proposal… Get them ready, the ones in the first stage of this order, and the ones you’re offering. They all belong to Red Eye. I’ll personally wait at the drop off location to take them in myself.”

Usury claps her hooves together once loudly in excitement. “Great!” She grabs a piece of paper from her desk and quickly scribbles on it. “I’ll have them brought here… today… All you have to do is pick them up and take them in the rest of the way to get credit for them.” As she’s holding out the paper for him she grins. “Thank you, and I look forward to working with you more in the future.”

“In the future?” Gearing asks as he stows the paper in a pocket in his armor.

“Of course. I can see a long working relationship with a reasonable, and flexible, buck like yourself….” She smiles widely enough that her eyes partially close. “Give my regards to Flapjacks.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head shivers before he asks, ‘Is she just happy… or is she intentionally trying to flirt and give us those bedroom eyes because, honestly, it's creeping me the hell out...’

I’m pretty sure she’s just thinking about how lucky she is to have found a useful idiot for herself… Gearing mentally replies as he gives Usury a nod of agreement.

Usury walks around from behind the desk as she says, “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m sure you’d like to be on your way.” She starts heading towards the same door they’d entered through and as she’s walking she motions towards the cabinet again. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a little something? Perhaps for the road to enjoy this evening?”

“No thanks. I’m not expecting to be able to take a break for a while anyway. After all, I have to be there to pick up the delivery… Speaking of, how soon can they be ready and at the location?” Gearing replies.

Usury stops at the door, before opening it, and looks back at him. “I’ll get it started shortly after you leave. I’ll have my assistant go and fetch the transfer ponies and have them get on the way as soon as they’re ready. I’ll make sure they leave within the hour so they should arrive at the meeting place just before nightfall with a typical traveling pace.”

Gearing nods. “Great. I’ll hurry and report back to Pancakes before going to the meeting location. That’ll give me a couple hours to get everything ready before they arrive.”

Usury blinks a couple times before she smiles widely, “A couple hours extra? You must move quick!”

Gearing shrugs. “If I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself, and don’t have collars to watch out for, I can make good time… speaking of.” He motions towards the door.

Usury nods quickly and opens the door. “Right, we both have work to get back to.” She trots on through and opens the second door, the one that leads into the hallway, and calls out as she’s walking toward the conference room, “Okay, we’re finished… Our guest is ready to leave, so guide him out.”

The guardsmare walks out of the conference room and lets out a sigh as she looks around. “Okay, lets go.” She waves back down the hall from where she’d originally brought him, and then starts slowly walking away as she clearly wants to hurry up and get this over with to get away from him and the situation as a whole.

As Usury and Gearing are approaching the door, the buck from before steps out and asks, “Everything alright, boss?”

Gearing keeps walking past, following the guardsmare.

Usury’s focus follows over to Gearing’s back and she says a bit quietly, “Just a… delicate matter that needs addressing…”

Gearing turns his head to look back at her, and Usury’s eyes go a bit wider as she realizes he clearly heard her and knows her intentions. Though she relaxes a bit as Gearing says, “My orders were to deliver it to your ears only. What you do with it after that is on you and none of my concern. If you decide to tell others that you trust, that’s your decision.”

Usury tilts her head, but then actually smiles widely before she nods. “Right. Thank you.” She waves and gives a friendly smile as she says, “Have a safe trip back home.”

Gearing gives a nonchalant wave with a forehoof as he keeps following the guardsmare.

As Gearing gets to the end of the hallway that leads out into the rest of the mall he hears a familiar sound of Usury facehoofing herself. Then her muttering with more than a little bit of venom in her voice, “Sanguine needs to hurry up and kill that bitch before any more headaches crop up-”

As Gearing takes the corner into the main hall, towards the exit, the rest of whatever Usury was saying is lost in the ambient noise of the old mall. And, before they get too much further, Gearing calls out to the guardsmare, “Not the main entrance. Back where I came in from. I’m on a big time crunch to get back quickly.”

The guardsmare nods and start walking a bit faster, and actually seems happier about it, and even more so as her charge equally picks up the pace without any complaints. “Sure thing, we’ll have you out of here and back on the road as soon as we can.”

True to her word, the guardsmare takes as straight of a path as she can to get them out of the mall itself, and out of Usury’s domain as a whole. Now that she’s not only not walking intentionally slowly as a guide, but is actively trying to speed up to hurry up and get rid of him, they are making excellent time on the way out and it only takes a fraction of the time to return to where they’d first met compared to the trip in.

As they are walking up to the guard checkpoint where the old mall sign is lying, the guardsmare calls out cheerfully, but with a slight pant that betrays the fact that she really did just push herself to get here, “Welp, here we are. Thanks for stopping in! If you need anything else, you know where to find Usury.”

Gearing trots on past her as he nods. “That I do. Thanks for the escort.”

As he is heading out, a familiar voice calls out from near the fallen Paradise sign, “Hey, friend!”

Gearing looks over and sees the buck that his guide had kicked in the face, still with traces of blood in his mouth. And the smears of blood are easily detectable given the shit eating grin he’s giving Gearing at the moment before he says, “You got everything taken care of, right? You’re good? We’re all good? No problems, right? Sorry about the dumb stuff earlier! No hard feelings, right? Tell you what, next time you come through, I’ll escort you myself! No problem!”

The guardsmare’s facehoof is so sudden, loud, and forceful that Gearing wonders if she didn’t just injure herself in the act.

Gearing looks between them and then says to the buck, “My job’s done. You didn’t delay me too much. The offer’s appreciated. I might take you up on it if the need arises.”

The buck perks up and smiles even wider. “Hey, thanks! That’s swell! No hard feelings! Have a safe trip home!”

Gearing nods and as he’s turning he says, “Right. I’m off.” Then he goes back to motoring back toward the Red Eye’s army camp.

Before he even manages to turn back around, the little blue pegasus in his head starts grumbling. ‘Oh, I’m gonna kill that motherfucker… Just watch… If I get an opportunity, I’m going to introduce them to the god of their choice, free of charge… This whole place is even scummier than I thought… and the bar for that was already pretty fucking low and these fucks decided to limbo under it… I need to poke the hornet's nest a few more times to get this started, they both need to have their numbers pruned…’

Gearing mentally grumbles back, We get the chance, they’re getting removed from the equation… There’s far too many to go after directly… If it wasn’t for all of the hostages I could just blast the whole place to the moon, let Nightmare Moon deal with them, and pick off the survivors with my rifle… Gearing’s head visibly hangs as he snorts in frustration. I miss having support and a fire team on standby…

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Attempting Synchronization… Please Stand By…

Author's Note

The long anticipated first run in with Usury and the Paradise Slavers' base of operations.

Along with other tidbits and hints about things. Some more blatant than others.

85 Pressure Release

Gearing, still in his ‘Stubs’ impersonating gear, keeps his pace as he’s heading back towards the Red Eye base. There’s a few things he needs to do there, or at least near there, before ‘Stubs’ disappears for a while. As he’s debating on the merits of going ahead and throwing off the costume, and hurrying up with his plans to get back to Megamart, he comes up to an intersection where the majority of the buildings around have fallen down or otherwise been reduced to rubble. He notices movement, through the debris, but keeps on trotting down the lane until he actually is crossing it.

He pointedly turns his muzzle to look to the side and sees a group of ponies, and a few of which he actually remembers.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments, ‘How the hell they already catch so many?!’

The paradise slavers are walking with a staggered formation with the newly caught ponies in the middle. Two slavers in the back of the group, and two near the front. With the grumpy looking mare in the very front of everypony and leading the small herd. Gearing abruptly turns towards them and asks as they are getting closer to the intersection, “Are those the transfers for Red Eye?”

The grumpy looking mare in the lead gives him a look that transcends language barriers by declaring ‘No, dumbass’.

A slaver buck a few paces back and on the left side of the group yells back, “Nah. These are fresh meat. Taking them to Paradise and they’ll be sent out from there.”

Gearing shakes his head and then replies, “Well, when you get back to Paradise, make sure to tell Usury to hurry up with our shipment. Red Eye’s growing impatient.”

The slaver bobs his head around. “Yeah, yeah, got it… Any you want out of this batch?”

Gearing looks them over as they start passing, and then suddenly points at a mare in the middle of the herd. “Dibs on the unicorn. Red Eye has mandated more unicorns are needed to be recruited.”

The mare in question’s jaw drops as she starts shivering and shaking. A look of pure fear crosses her entire being as apparently her worst case scenario for what is going to happen to her has already been decided. Of all of the possibilities for what could be in her future, this one is apparently the worst for her.

The buck smiles as he says, “Great! Bonus score! I’ll keep an eye out for more.”

Gearing nods. “Good. We’ll be expecting the delivery soon.” Then he abruptly turns and continues on the path he was walking before anyone could say anything further.

The grumpy mare comments, “That freak always going full tilt?” A split second later she lets out a shriek of pain and spins around to look behind her. “What the hell was that for? Why’d you throw a rock at me!?”

The other mare slaver glares at her and says, “Your mouth, that’s why.”

The buck slaver from before chimes in, “Don’t piss off Red Eye… it’s bad for business, and life expectancy…”

The grumpy mare scowls and just becomes grumpier as she spins around and continues to lead the way to Paradise Mall, swearing and swearing revenge the whole way.

A few blocks away from their encounter with ‘Stubs’, and still far away from Paradise Mall, the grumpy mare comes to a halt, causing the whole procession to stop, as she hears something. Her ears turn around quickly as she tries to pinpoint from what direction it’s coming from, then suddenly jerks her chin upwards.

Just in time to see a pony falling at terminal velocity a few feet in front of her. “aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHH-”

Her focus stays on the buck from the point she first saw him, to the point he hits the ground. And the sickening slight bounce that occurs from the impact. The buck’s voice likewise comes to an abrupt halt as he’s killed instantly from the fall.

The grumpy mare half rears up as she steps back in disgust at what’s landed in front of her. “What the hell’s this!?” She blinks a couple times, then steps a bit closer as the buck in question strikes a chord with her memory. “… Razor?” She stares at the body, with the gear, the hide color, and the bomb collars still hanging from his belts. She shakes her head a bit then spins around. “Hey, Razor, this buck’s just like y-”

She stops as she comes face to face with Gearing, standing just a foot or so behind her and wearing nothing but his PipBuck. His face is plastered with a grin that, while jovial and happy, sends a shiver up her spine.

Gearing, in all his golden brassy glory, waves a hoof as he says, “I’ll be honest… I actually tried to bullseye you with him, but from that altitude it’s a bit hard to judge and factor in changes of speed. You know, two ponies with one stone kinda thing.” He puts the tips of his two wings together and keeps grinning as he says, “Missed ya by that much.”

In the background behind him, the group of pony slaves-to-be are standing and looking as bewildered as the grumpy mare is. All of them are staring at the pair with confusion and fright etched into their faces. Like they’ve personally seen some things that they wish they hadn’t. But there’s not sight nor hair of her other companions. Besides the oozing mass behind her -which even if he survived that fall he’d be no help with the condition his body is in and that rapidly growing pool of blood- there’s the slaves and this golden monstrosity in front of her.

She gets a malicious grin on her face as she starts reaching for a side pouch. A sick twisted smile grows on her face along with a mad gleam in her eye that says she’s going to get even, even if she doesn’t win.

Gearing, at her first movements, jumps forward, grabs her head with both of his forehooves, and then uses his wings to perform a crocodile death roll on her midair. Her head twists unnaturally, and eerily easily within his hooves, as he spins midair. Her body even starts following suit a split second after a teeth rattling cracking sound comes from her neck. Then, with his grip still just as firm as it had been at the beginning, he spins around parallel to the ground. After a few cycles with the limp mare being flung around him he lets go and throws her into a partially collapsed building nearby.

“None of that, thank you,” Gearing comments as he hurls the perpetually grumpy mare into the building. He glances over at the ponies with the bomb collars around their necks and gives them a warm comforting smile. “Just wait here, I’ll get those bombs off your neck after I finish dealing with her.”

All of them just stand there, staring, not daring to move nor say anything.

Since there’s no objections, and he’s pretty sure they realize the problem of running with a bomb collar around your neck, he takes it as compliance and jumps into the building with the mare he’d just thrown. A moment later there’s a sickening crunch that makes the ponies cringe as Gearing crushes the mare’s head with a hoof. And, despite not seeing it, the ponies all, somehow, know exactly what just took place with sickening clarity. While they are shivering from that, he comes trotting out as he’s putting the detonator and slave collar control box back into the pouch he’d taken from the mare, and heads towards the one visible corpse. He wipes his hoof on the dead buck’s clothes, and then turns towards the still standing ponies. Doing a quick headcount he sees that all of the original six are still here, and none had made the unfortunate mistake of running off.

He trots over to the closest pony as he says, “Okay, now let's get these collars off. If you would, hang around for a bit, and I’ll help you get somewhere safe.” He gets to work and the bewildered stares slowly turn into realization as he gets the first collar off.

As Gearing starts working on the second bomb, the freed pony asks, “Who are you?”

Gearing pulls off the second deactivated collar, and throws it in the air with a flourish. As he catches it he grins at them and replies, “I’m Fixer. I fix problems. I saw you folks were in a bind, so I fixed the situation.”

The third pony is the mare unicorn of the group, and she stares at Gearing with a hard to read expression. After he finally gets the collar off, holds it up for her to see, and smiles at her, she finally cracks. Tears break out in a flood and she throws her hooves around his neck as she hugs him. “T-thank you! I was gonna d-die! I was really gonna die!” She nuzzles him as she bawls her eyes out. “A Red Eye soldier said he wanted me and they were going to send me to one of their death camps!” She sobs as her legs shakes. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Gearing’s caught off guard at first, and actually stumbles as he’s glomped by the mare. But he quickly recovers and starts patting her on the back. “There, there. You’re free now.” He looks around at the others. “Would you all be willing to accompany me to Megamart? You can break off from there, or figure out what to do. It’s more secure than around here.”

One of the bucks with their bomb collar still on, waves lightly and says, “We were headed that way anyway, so sure!”

The rest likewise nod their heads in agreement.

“Great!” Gearing replies cheerfully as he extracts himself from the bawling mare’s fleshy prison. He quickly goes by the others and removes their collars as well. “Okay, let's get out of here and I’ll get you to Megamart.”

“Uh… Sir!” one of the bucks calls out.

Gearing looks over at him and tilts his head. “Yeah?”

The buck looks around, then points at the only corpse he can see at the moment. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful… but when they captured us, they took some of our personal stuff. Would it be possible to get it back?”

Gearing looks at them, then over at the bodies, before looking back at the buck. “It’s too dangerous for you to be sorting through the bodies here so close to Paradise and on a street the creeps travel regularly-”

The buck sighs and hangs his head, “I understand, sorry.”

“But!” Gearing says a bit louder. “Let’s get you safe somewhere nearby, and I’ll come and grab everything, and then you can reclaim whatever’s yours from that. Sound good?”

The buck lifts his head up quickly in shock before grinning. “Yeah, that’d be perfect, thank you!”

Gearing nods as he starts walking away and motioning for them to follow. And follow they do. Eagerly and without further question. The group of frightened ponies stick close together and follow close to Gearing, but not too close. He waves them off, and scouts ahead, as he leads them through rubble and other pathways, motioning for them to stay put in place every now and then while he zips off, only for him to come back and lead them further not long after.

As they are traveling, the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head sets up a variety of papers hanging from the clouds in his mindspace, and writing out maps, on the fly, along with advanced calculations, as he furiously works an abacus. The little pegasus comments, ‘It’s going to take some patented flashery to pull this off, but it’s doable. Just have to be really careful and creative with your movements…’

Gearing mentally acknowledges it as he looks at the giant rapidly updating map that’s appearing in his head. Three dimensions of a wide area of Hoofington and covering a lot of places that he’s been to recently, plus the ones around him currently.

After they’ve traveled only a couple blocks, Gearing finds something acceptable for his plans, and quickly motions the ponies following him into a tipped over wagon with its top portion facing a building near it, and the tireless wheels sticking out in the direction of the rest of the street. After they’re all inside he looks them over and says quietly, “I have to carry you for this next bit, but don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.

As one, all of the wide-eyed ponies nod in solidarity and understanding. And, Gearing feels a heart tug as he feels like they may be so shell shocked that he could literally walk them through hell and they’d still thank him for the guided tour.

He gently grabs the closest buck and says with a gush, “Try not to scream. I’ve done this before. Hold your mouth if you have to.” The buck nods and, apparently not trusting himself, quickly holds his own muzzle shut with both forehooves as Gearing grabs him and takes off with him.

One by one Gearing disappears with one of the six ponies, until he has them all where he wants them. As he’s dropping off the last buck he sees them all slowly looking around themselves, but staying exactly where they are laying, where he sat them, as they explore the little cubby he’s stored them in. The room, for some apartment that’s set into the building above a strip mall of stores, and on the third floor no less, is exceedingly small. And has no easy way out. Or in. Except the door that leads in, but the other side of that door is practically a straight drop down. The windows are covered by debris, from the outside, as the building next door had fallen down and over onto it. As evidenced by some of the debris actually making it through the windows and onto the floor near them. Gearing stoops down so he’s in proximity to all of them as he says quietly, “I need you all to stay right here, understand me?” They all stare at him with the same shell shocked blank stare. So he sighs as he says, “I understand that you're terrified. You have every right to be. But we still aren’t far from Paradise. I know that you want to get out of here, to get home, to your loved ones, to just get away… so I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to just cut and run… But, please, understand, if any of Usurys slavers find you, and find out what’s happened, and that I’m this close to Paradise, that bitch will send her entire army out here and we’re all screwed.” The eyes of the ponies seem to grow even wider as the one unicorn mare starts shivering and shaking.

Gearing looks at her and asks, “Also, you mentioned a Red Eye's soldier, right?” She quickly nods as she actually jerks suddenly from the pain of the thought. “How many? Where were they? Did you see where they were going?”

The others look around and one buck comments quickly. “Just the one. Some buck on a mission of some sorts. Apparently confused us with some sort of transfer and thought we were supposed to go to him.”

“It wasn’t too far from where you’d saved us…” the jittery unicorn mare adds.

Gearing looks at him and asks, “Transfer?” They all nod. “He was expecting a transfer through here?” Again, they all nod. Gearing grins as he looks to the side and rubs his muzzle. “Oh… that’s good… that’s real good…” He glances at them sideways then says, “I’m going to get you guys out of here. To Megamart. But with all of these Paradise assholes, and now Red Eye's soldiers patrolling, we're going to have to be careful along the way. So, please, just wait here, don’t make a sound, and I’ll be right back with the stuff the slavers were carrying. Then I’ll figure out the best path to avoid the fuckers and get you all to safety… okay?” They look at him and a couple actually breathe a light sigh of relief, with the one older buck actually getting tears in his eyes as he nods with a smile on his face. Gearing gets up and goes to the door as he nods towards them. “Thank you.” He reaches over, and grabs what turns out to be a large sign from the building next door, and tilts and leans it over to cover up the door. As he’s closing it up he looks at them and promises, “I’ll be back shortly. Be quiet. And don’t move. And I’ll get you out of this.” And then he drops the sign down with a metallic groan of the metal before turning to leave.

But, he noticed, that despite being grateful, the ponies are still anxious. And he hopes that they will play along so he can get them to safety.

The ponies are looking around and increasingly more nervous the longer he’s gone. Though, they stay absolutely quiet. As, on some level, they feel like they are absolutely surrounded by predators, and the only way to survive is to stay hidden, stay quiet, and not move. And, arguably, their ancestrally rooted fears are correct.

But, to their great relief, they hear Gearing’s voice coming in through a crack on the outside as he mercifully warns them of his presence before startling them, “Hey, it’s me. Don’t scream. I’m coming in.” They watch, in silence, and just as planned, as the sign that’s covering the door gets lifted and set to the side. And as the sign hits some bricks on the side, they realize the scope of the ridiculous feat as the sign actually chips some of the stone from its sheer bulk. Gearing quickly zips in with a variety of bags and clothes and sets them down in the middle of them as he says, “Here’s all of their crap. Grab what’s yours, or, hell, even what you can use.”

As they start quietly sorting through it, they can’t help but notice a few of the pieces are particularly bloody. And they recognize the gear as belonging to the grumpy mare, and the one known as Razor. But the others’ gear are, oddly to them, surprisingly lacking in their blood coatings, making them wonder exactly what Gearing did to them that killed them without making much of a mess.

And as they are busying themselves with reclaiming their own property, and sorting through the rest of it as well, Gearing comments, “Now, I’m going to go check on our path through here. You guys get situated, and get ready to go, and I’ll be back shortly. Okay?” They all nod, a couple even smiling more, especially the buck that’d asked about it all originally as he puts on a very old stetson hat, and puts a pocket watch into the pocket of his vest where the worn pattern in the vest fabric shows the watch has lived there for a very long time. Gearing quickly puts a hoof to his lips at the door, and once again seals them into the little third floor room as he goes off on another mission.

A while later, considerably longer than the last time and past the point where the hidden ponies had started getting antsy and wondering if their would-be-savior had gotten caught or killed himself, Gearing’s voice from the other side of the sign instantly lifts their spirits again. Even more so as he casually lifts the sign out of place and they can clearly see that he’s okay. He motions them over to himself as he says quietly, “Sorry it took so long, but I have the route to take now.” After they’d gotten close enough to touch he comments, “I managed to break somepony else out. He’s downstairs. He’s apparently been with them a while so please be kind he’s really skittish and shell shocked about the whole ordeal… I’m sure you can understand.”

They all quickly nod and the unicorn mare puts her forehoof to her chest as she says quietly, “The poor dear…”

Gearing quickly ferries the ponies back down to the same overturned wagon they’d been stowed in before, except this time there’s a young tan buck with his tail hair bobbed down to nearly nothing. And though the buck looks to be of the age of where he’s just tentatively stepping a hoof into adulthood, his eyes are worn and wild with fright. And, with what Gearing had told them, and the look on his face, all of the ponies clearly put an image in their head of what the buck’s life has recently been like. A fate that they’ve recently been lucky enough to dodge thanks to the strange golden buck that’s personally escorting them. And, respectfully, they all keep their distance and simply let the buck be.

Except for the mare unicorn who just gets close enough to quietly encourage him, “You’re going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine. We're in good hooves now. We’ve escaped. Take your time and breathe. Just breathe, sweetie.”

The tan buck spares her just a quick side glance, only a momentary flicker, before going back to staring blankly in front of himself off into space and into the void itself.

As soon as Gearing sets the last of the herd down inside the wagon he quickly grabs a few bags that were stowed near the tan buck as he says, “Okay, let's go. Stay down, stay close, stay quiet. We’re almost home.”

They nod and as he heads out, the tan buck startles them all as he jumps out of the wagon and practically stays up Gearing’s ass as he stays so close to him that in normal circumstances it’d be considered extremely rude, outside of bedroom environments.

The others fall in quick and, given that the tan buck in front of them seems so terrified of their environment, they too amp up their vigilance and do their best to follow the instructions given to them. So much so that they are even careful of what they are stepping on the whole way.

But, it doesn’t take them long to realize that the path Gearing is taking them on, isn’t as direct as any of them expected, or actually would prefer. It seems to zip back and forth and ambles around. But, true to his word, they don’t run into so much as a living radroach along the way. A few dead ones, even somewhat recently deceased at that judging by the still goopy mix spread across the floor where somepony stepped on them, but none alive. A couple times Gearing even halts the procession, and has them hunker down while he quickly takes off to scout ahead again, to ‘make sure nothing cropped up since he was just here’. And, given all of the other precautions he seems to be taking, they all obediently do as asked. And the fact that the tan buck snaps to action as soon as the words are out of Gearing’s mouth, helps the others to do the same as they all play ‘follow the leader’ with the instructions.

As they are approaching a building that seems to be a bit more intact than most, Gearing stops and doubles back to whisper towards them, “I need to check ahead again. I’m getting a few readings I don’t like. So follow me upstairs real quick.” And as they are nodding understanding he quickly doubles back a bit, and leads them all up a flight of stairs. On the fourth floor of the building, he walks around quietly before finding a room. He waves them all in and joins up with them as they all huddle near the brick wall across from the door.

Gearing looks them over and smiles as he says, “You guys have been doing a great job so far. We’re almost home free. I’m going to go check on this next part. Hang out here and remember, no matter what you hear, if a fight breaks out, stay quiet. Stay hidden. And let me take care of it. It’s worked thus far, so let's not mess anything up by changing the formula now, okay?” They all nod and he raises a hoof high in the air. “Great! Go team, wooooo!” Then he turns around, closes the door behind him, knocks over a cabinet to block the door and hide it from outsiders, and goes off on his scouting mission.

And, as had happened multiple times already in a relatively short period of time, the group hunkers down and gets comfortable as the stallion with the plan goes off to do his thing. It’s already getting close to dark, but they’re pretty sure that, in this case, it'd just aid them more since they have such an effective scout, and are so far along in the path that they can practically smell Megamart already.

Sometime later, but well within what they’d expected to wait, they hear a commotion break out in front of the building, and then suddenly there’s a loud impact into the brick wall next to the wooden boarded up windows as something hits the side of the fourth floor. With part of it actually splatting against the wood with a partially meaty and partially metallic clank against the wood and brick surface. The hidden ponies all shoot up their ears in alarm, as a few of them peek over the stonework and out through the heavily boarded up windows.

The unicorn mare shrinks back down as she moans in despair, “Celestia have mercy…” She looks over at the others and hisses, “It’s a slaver hunting squad! A big one!”

The others, against better judgment, quickly scoot over to look over and down at the fight that’s taking place at ground level in the rubble of the street. Bullets start flying as screams of anger and fear fill the street way. The buck with the stetson catches a glimpse and recoils from the window as he says in astonishment, “It’s him! He’s attacking the slave convoy! Even one that big and all by himself!”

Gearing voice roars out from somewhere outside. “Why don’t you pick on somepony your own size, huh?!”

The others quickly crowd over by the windows, including the young tan buck, and watch on in shock at what’s starting outside. It’s very clear that there’s quite the sizable group of slaves down there, as the ponies on the ground with bomb collars on them are trying to hide and make themselves as small as possible as all hell breaks out around them.

The buck with the stetson turns around and heads over to where a pile of gear that was taken from the slavers was set by Gearing before he took off. “We can’t let him fight on his own! I’m not gonna let the buck that saved me die on the same day! That ain’t right!”

As he’s digging through the supplies and pulling out weapons the unicorn mare runs over next to him as she says, “You’re right! And if he goes down, we’re next!” She pulls out a rifle and starts sorting through the random bullets in the bag as she says, “I’m not dying today. Not to Usury. Not to Red Eye. And not to these fucking slavers!” Her horn glows as she starts rapidly loading the rifle.

Of the others, only two don’t jump over to find a weapon to get some form of payback against Usury’s slavers: the tan buck, and another buck from the original six. Both keep looking out with unwavering dedication to see how things are playing out. But, while the tan buck is simply staring with a nearly vacant stare, practically emotionless, the other buck pales more and more at what he’s seeing. Eventually the scared buck looks back at the other’s and comments quietly, “I… think he’s got it… guys...”

A series of loud gun blasts echo out, and then there’s no more shooting, except Gearing shooting off his mouth as he screams, “I fucking hate slavers!”

They all run over to the windows and look through the cracks between the boards down below. And, sure enough, all of the slavers seem to have been dealt with.

The buck with the stetson turns around, grabs the remaining baggage Gearing had left, and starts towards the door as he says, “Well, let's get down there anyway. Never know when some asshole’s going to show up after all that gunfire. We can at least guard him while he saves those poor sods. And after that, we can all get on to Megamart.”

The tan buck scurries over without a word and starts loading himself up as it seems to make perfect sense for him and he wants to get the hell away from here as quickly as possible. The last hold out calls over to them as they’re getting ready to try and open the door out. “Hey, he- he said to stay here… no matter what…”

The stetson wearing stallion looks back at him and waves towards the window. “Yeah, that’s what those hero types always say… They always put too much on their shoulders, so no one else gets hurt. Well, I’m going to be the bad little colt and not listen today… We’re getting out of here. All of us. You can wait until he gets back if you want, but the rest of us are going down so we can leave sooner.”

The buck looks around, sees that, yes, everyone does seem to be ready to leave him here, and he folds his ears back as he grumbles. “Fuck. Okay, fine. Hey, hold up, I’m coming too!”

* * *

Meanwhile as Gearing left…

* * *

As Gearing is closing the door up, and doing a rather poor job of it to cover this fourth floor room, he keeps going over everything in his head. With himself.

If Usury stuck to her word, they should be getting close.

‘With the zigzagging we did, it should have ate up enough time. This should be timed correctly. We just need to find them and hit them.’

Already have the witnesses set up for this coincidence. Worked out better than originally planned.

‘Yeah, especially with the one mare giving us the info and setting the table for this. I could kiss her!’

Gearing happily hops down and takes to the air right out of the building. He zips around them, backtracking and doing a quick search pattern as he looks for signs of the ponies he’s looking for. He knows they’re going to be in this area, and they are going to, if they’re smart, go through this general area. And, it doesn’t matter which angle they come in at, he’ll be able to get them within sight of the building where he currently has the other ponies hidden.

As he’s performing his search pattern, he mentally snarls, It’s already getting close to dark… They should be here by now… Did she really double cross us, intentionally? Damn, I thought I was making that shit up! If so, this’ll work out even better than we planned.

'Heads up', the little blue pegasus in his head alerts him.

He looks over through a set of broken struts from where a roof collapsed and sees a group of ponies passing through, along with a collection of red and blue dots marching along his vision.

'Show time!' the little blue pegasus in his head cackles as it hops back and forth on its hind legs and claps with its fore hooves.

Gearing stays back and around areas to stay out of sight, as he gets a quick headcount of the ponies involved. And, sure enough, it isn’t hard to notice the mob of downtrodden ponies with bombs around their neck, surrounded by armed guards that look as mean and psycho as an Ursa Major that someone kicked its baby.

Gearing tails them, from whatever angle he can, as he makes sure of their angle and plans his attack approach.

'Just a bit more,' the little pegasus says excitedly.

Yeah, but, there’s more than I was expecting… I guess she really didn’t want anything to happen with this shipment…

'Quick headcount says that she added four to the transfer from what was expected.'

Wow… It’s hard to believe that she’s that scared of Red Eye… Good thing we didn’t try to do this in reverse, and make her shitty at them, it’d never work if that were the case! She’d probably bow, kiss his hooves, then offer to present flank if she’s this cowed by them…

'I wonder why though… Sure they’re better armed and organized, but they don’t have that many ponies around, presence isn’t that big…'

A mystery for another day… Show time!

The little pegasus’s ears turn into horns as he says, 'Remember that fucker from the gate? Remember all that shit that we found out? Remember what we had to do to get this kicked off?'

I’ll never forget, Gearing growls.

Time to relieve some frustrations, go get’em champ! the little blue pegasus yells as it pulls out a giant pole with a flag on it that says: "Murder time, murder time, time to commit some MURDER!"

Gearing swings around and zeros in on his first target. A buck that’s been dragging behind and seems like he’s either coming down from some drugs, hasn’t had his morning coffee, or just generally can’t be bothered with taking this assignment seriously. So Gearing relieves him of the responsibility by coming in at high speed from the side, grabbing his head, and taking off with the buck in his forehooves without slowing at all and all of the gentleness of a balefire bomb. Gearing arcs up and over the buildings across the street as he keeps an eye on the rest of the convoy, that’s still heading forward, and simply lets go of the buck before changing direction. The buck hits the roof and mostly tumbles quietly with the action, coming to a sliding halt. And that probably would have been quite helpful to prevent any injuries, if he hadn’t already had his neck broken by Gearing when he was yanked off the ground by his head alone.

The next in line is not far from the convoy, bringing up the rear of the group and doing a good job of looking back and forth as the rest of the group leads the way. But the mare never gets to let out a single warning, as Gearing zipped up from behind, dropped a lasso around her neck made from thin wire, and took off up and backwards, pulling her with such force that not even the first droplets of blood landed near the convoy as she was hauled off to hang from a light pole around the corner. Though she was well on her way to spiritual judgment as the wire trick had nearly completely decapitated her by time she was tied up.

The next in line from behind is a buck who’s walking next to the last slave in the convoy. And both of them are quite startled as Gearing zips down and practically tackles the slaver. But, the pony with the bomb around their neck has enough sense not to say anything and alert the rest. But, as Gearing suddenly turns to run off with his prize, and for no discernible reason, the next slaver in line, a few paces further up the line, and on the other side of the conga line of slaves, picks that exact moment to look back behind themselves towards the tail end of the convoy. Just in time to watch as Gearing holds the buck’s chest with one foreleg, and snaps their neck with his other in a quick but quiet movement that looks more like giving a sudden hug or maybe a muscle spasm.

The two lock eyes with each other as Gearing is starting to head away.

The little pony in Gearing head grumps, 'Dammit… why they gotta be competent! Was hoping to thin their numbers more before shit went down!'

Can’t be helped. Shit happens. The pony factor will always fuck you if you let it.

The little pegasus in Gearing's head summons a large gong and hits it hard as he grins wickedly. 'Light's green, bitch!'

Gearing twists in midair, spinning around, and just as the first few notes of the slaver's scream comes out of their mouth, Gearing chucks the lifeless body he’s holding up and in an arc. And as the others start turning around to see what’s going on, the body slams into a group of four ponies, causing them all to tumble over and fall as they get tangled up with each other and the corpse. One of which is currently wearing a bomb collar and Gearing mentally makes a note to apologize to them in a few minutes.

As the body was still soaring through the air, Gearing had kept his momentum and directed it towards the witness to his shenanigans. They jump to the side, trying to dodge out of the way of the incoming bullrush charge. But, they’ve apparently never fought a pegasus before, and Gearing simply adjusted his trajectory mid-flight with a snap of his wings and grabs her as she’s mid air. He rolls with her, flicking her up in the air, and uses her as an improvised weapon as he hurls her at two other slavers that’d turned around to join in the fight.

Gearing kicks a pile of debris not far from him with a downward stomp, and the action causes a giant disk of metal to pop up and clang off his leg painfully before it continues up and at eye level, He grabs it, spins around quickly as he creates a mini tornado of wind, before letting it go in a nearly perfectly formed discus toss.

Straight at the only slaver that hasn’t had some form of rude treatment applied to them by Gearing yet.

But that status quickly changes. As the other six are still trying to get to their hooves, the ponyhole cover flies right into the buck's face at Mach Discord. The ponyhole cover smashes through the buck's teeth, shoving them in, as it rips his cheeks and tries to go right through his head entirely. But, there’s enough resistance that he simply gets thrown backwards and off his feet as he looks like he bit off more than he can chew, though his completely warranted screams are massively muffled by the heavy hunk of rusty steel embedded in his mouth.

As the widemouthed buck is still falling towards the ground, Gearing zips over towards the group that was trying to untangle themselves from their dead compatriot, and helps them lighten the load.

By grabbing one of the still living combatants, skewering their head, with the spear one of the others with him had but Gearing took away from them, and hurling the now dead pony with the stick through his head with such gusto that it hits the fourth floor of the building near where all of this is taking place.

The little blue pegasus in his head giggles as it mocks knocking on the boarded up windows. 'Knock knock…'

But as that body is falling back down to ground level, the bullets start flying in unhealthy doses. The slaves, regardless of what the slavers are yelling at them, all jump to the ground and try to make themselves as small as possible as the surviving slavers all dump as much lead as they can at the golden flying menace.

Gearing zips around horizontally to the ground as he circles the group just above the worn road, with bullets impacting just behind him as the slavers pivot to shoot at him. And the closest pair of slavers, the ones that had peeled themselves free of their dead comrade, both have their eyes go wide as their weapons click empty, and they catch eye contact with Gearing as he looks right at them and the smile on his face lets them know that he definitely just heard that.

“Why don’t you pick on somepony your own size, huh?!” Gearing yells with unnerving glee in his voice.

Gearing boggles their mind as he turns at a perfect ninety degree angle, and zeros in right at them. He hits them both, one with each forehoof and with enough inertia that he doesn't even slow down. The impact is so severe that they are lifted completely off their hooves, and go sailing up and over the cowering line of slaves before impacting into the sharp rubble on the other side. Both of them cough up blood as pretty much everyone is aware that there’s been more than a few ribs violently broken with that stunt. But, to the injured bucks’ surprise, they’re inflicted with more suffering and misery as their coworkers try to shoot Gearing as he’s coming down on them, only to hit the pair of groaning bucks with far more bullets than hit Gearing. And, insultingly to the dying bucks, the SMG aimed at him seemed to do practically nothing to the golden monster, whereas with them it made neat repetitive holes in their body that they really didn’t feel like they needed at the moment. Even worse that none of them were friendly enough to be a lucky headshot that’d end their suffering.

Of the remaining three, two are trying to threaten the slaves into getting up and running, but it’s not working as bullets are still flying. The third is the most heavily armed of the entire group, with a pair of carbines attached to their battle saddle. And worryingly to Gearing, they are showing an unnerving level of professionalism by being selective with their shots. They haven’t used nearly as much ammo as the rest and, for their judicious aim, have the honor of being the one to have inflicted the most hits and damage on Gearing by far.

Which also grants them the bonus achievement of thoroughly pissing Gearing off as well.

Gearing, while actually starting to literally fume at this point, practically ignores the bullets impacting into his shoulder and chest as he charges the heavily armed buck who has the audacity to keep his composure despite the situation. But Gearing doesn’t simply plow into him. Right before making contact, he snaps in rapid fire zigzags, then wraps a foreleg around the buck's neck as he starts passing him. Gearing uses the momentum, and the buck's neck as a focal point, to swing around the buck and seize him from behind as he practically mounts the slaver while holding onto the slaver's neck with one hoof as he partially chokes them.

It only takes a fraction of a second for the buck to realize the very compromising position Gearing’s just put them in before he yells out in a startled voice, “Hey, no butt stuff!”

The little pegasus in Gearings head facehoofs as it says, 'Okay, I get how this might look… but what a hell of a thing to be known for as your ‘famous last words'…'

While the buck getting mounted by Gearing is apparently more worried about his chastity than anything else, Gearing overpowers the stallion so thoroughly that he’s reduced the buck to a simultaneous shield and weapon.

The other two slavers have their eyes open to their max as they see their compatriot getting held in place in such an awkward position. But it’s not from the apparent mid battle exhibitionist sexploitation extravaganza, even if the mare gets a decided blush to her cheeks from the sight. It’s because while the buck’s worried about his rear end, as understandable as that would be given the situation, he’s not paid any mind to the fact that Gearing’s directed his whole body like a turret. The important point of contention being that the weapons he’d just been using on Gearing, are now unquestionably being pointed at the others, while still attached to the slaver.

The other slavers hesitate only a second themselves, before they start unloading their weapons at Gearing. They’d originally intended to wait for a clear shot, because if nothing else they didn’t want to kill the most heavily armed individual among their whole group, let alone of their remaining number. But they both came to the same realization at the same time, that they were about to die while some ‘hero’ uses their coworker as a meat shield, and began firing at nearly the exact same second. They weren’t actually aiming at the captive slaver, but with their panicked shooting it’s no wonder that so many bullets tear into the buck who’s been using all of his strength to clench his butt.

Several of the smaller rounds hit Gearing along his arms, shoulders, chest, and head. A couple actually pass through the buck he’s holding in order to do so and put bloody pock marks into his brassy hide. But his return fire, with the decent sized rifle rounds, drops the two remaining slavers in short order. And, with them down on the ground, and the buck in his hooves gurgling and hissing out blood through various wounds, Gearing does a quick headcount to make sure the job's done.

A couple of the dots haven’t entirely faded from his EFS. So Gearing releases the bleeding buck he was holding as he reaches and pulls a weapon from the small saddle bag he’d been carrying. He bites the modified mouth grip, then aims straight down at the still hissing buck, and pulls the trigger. And the large revolver screams out its deadly roar right into the back of the buck’s head. The cylinder only has five rounds, and there’s only five slavers that he deems need to have to be put down. So it’d probably be a bit weird to those viewing the situation to see him have to reload, and release another full set of five rounds into the bodies of the slavers.

Gearing holds the gun to the side with a wing, tilts his head back, and screams up at the sky as if blaming it for the situation, “I fucking hate slavers!” And then he quickly starts reloading the revolver as he trots over towards the nearest cowering pony that’s not only still breathing, but has a bit of explosive jewelry around their neck that he’s eager to confiscate.

As the mare is still on the ground, terrified to do anything at all besides breathing as quietly and shallowly as she can manage and trying to become one with the broken road under her, Gearing starts working on her collar. Without a word. But as he starts walking to the next pony he waves towards the others. “Hurry up and get over here so I can get those collars off. We’re gonna have to get out of her quickly before a patrol finds us.”

The others slowly come out of their stupor and start coming towards him to be relieved of the collars as they see him quickly disarming the ones he’s already got his hooves one. A few of them end up crawling over as they don’t know when the next shootout will take place.

“Well I’ll be damned, you managed to save these folks too!” a buck's voice calls over from the side.

Gearing only glances sideways before he scowls and says, “I thought I told you all to stay hidden until I came back?”

The buck with the stetson hat keeps walking forward as he grins. “Well, shoot. I’m not the best at following directions… besides… If some asshole pops up and starts shooting at you, you might end up screwing up and blowing those collars. And that’d be a shame, to lose the victory after all you’ve done.”

Gearing gets the collar off then moves on to the next one as he sighs, “Okay, fine, no point in arguing about it.” He pauses and looks over at them long enough to say, “If you really wanna help, start stripping down these slavers. We’re going to need the extra firepower on the way back.” He looks at the couple that’d already had their bombs removed and nods towards the buck with the stetson. “You too. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get out of here.”

When there’s only a couple left he calls out. “Hey, those unicorns among us, I need some help hiding the bodies. You don’t need to touch them, no telling what nasty shit they might be carrying. But if you can use your levitation to drop them where I need them it’ll help.” The couple unicorns actually nod. The mare from the first set eagerly so. And the second the last bomb clicks off of its victim, Gearing starts walking away from them with it in his grip as he heads towards the first slaver that’s already had their equipment stripped. “Okay, grab this guy and follow me.” Then he grabs one of the mare slavers and hurries off with the unicorns working between them to haul the other body.

Gearing looks around behind one of the buildings, getting a feel for the layout, before he finds what he’s looking for. He sets the body down, then uses a piece of rebar on a ponyhole cover. It’d already been moved and was letting a good amount of light and water down into the depths below, and with the lid entirely removed Gearing can see straight down into the filth below.

Along with a practical army of oversized roaches.

'Killit, killit with fire!' the little blue pegasus says as it jumps back instinctively.

Gearing scowls as he grabs the corpse, and then summarily throws it down into the hole below. A couple roaches, that had been standing and staring up in wonder at the sight, end up getting crushed by the falling mass of the mare as they couldn't get out of the way in time. And a moment later, another body gets dropped down into the hole. Gearing leads the unicorns back as he says, “We’ll hide the bodies there.” As they are getting back to the rest of the herd Gearing comments loud enough for all to hear. “Use what you can, stow the rest. Hiding the bodies will give us more time to get away without that damn patrol finding us too quick.”

They run back and forth, ferrying the bodies, and Gearing chucking them down into the hole with the rest. It doesn’t take long before the ten dead slavers make a mound of bloody pony flesh at the bottom of the hole. The one with the lid in his mouth was actually the most complicated, as Gearing actually had to remove the lid from his skull before the body would even fit. And he chucks the bloody lid down the alleyway, making it clang and clank as it skitters off the stonework before disappearing into the rubble of a mostly collapsed building. And then, as Gearing is grabbing the original lid to put in place, he can’t help but see the strange sight below them. The roaches are circling the growing pile, in apparent excitement. A few have even raised up on their legs to look at him and his shining brassy self. And, he swears, that a couple of them are actually waving their antennae at him in thanks and with what looks like reverence for their new sky god of food. And when he does start putting the lid on, is when the roaches finally start digging into the largest meal any of them have ever seen.

Gearing, despite being the one to cause this, is thoroughly disturbed by the sight and thought of it.

Once back with the rest of the rescuees, Gearing grabs his bag from the tan stallion, and does a quick headcount. Apparently the others had explained the plan as Gearing was ditching the bodies. Which helps speed things up tremendously as none of them wandered off. Gearing looks them all over before asking the newest members if they knew where they were being taken. And, apparently, the answer was no. Which, again, helps Gearing with his plans. He gathers the original six he’d saved, and asks them quietly if any of them had an idea of where the others were going. They apparently were able to put two and two together, on their own, and figure it out. So Gearing pulls them in close.

“Don’t tell anyone where they were headed, okay? This is important. I need your help with this, please. Consider it a personal favor. Consider it repayment, in full, for getting you out, but please, don’t tell them, or anyone else, where this convoy was headed.”

The unicorn mare asks quietly, “Sure, but, why? Why’s it matter?”

Gearing looks them over and says quietly, “I wanna fuck Usury. And to do that it’d help if this convoy was never sent in the first place.”

The mare gets a malicious grin on her muzzle as she says, “Oh, yeah, sure. Actually… I don’t want or need to know anymore… Ream that bitch!”

The others, likewise, nod quickly in agreement with the sentiment. And Gearing thanks them before taking the lead and directing the ponies to follow him.

Although, this time, Gearing takes a far more direct route as he’s not trying to eat up any time this time. He’s genuinely trying to get to Megamart as quickly and safely as he can with his little traveling herd.

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Attempting Synchronization… Please Stand By…

86 All in a Day’s Work

Without Gearing having to put on a show for the others, nor stick to some ridiculously tight time constraints for his convoluted plans, they make incredible time as Gearing directs the rescuees to Megamart. And, thanks to that detour provided by Usury, it’s well and truly dark by the time the herd gets into the groove of traveling. And with Gearing being in his element of overcast night shadows, the groove gets smooth indeed as their pace steadily increases as Gearing rapidly guides them to the relative safety of Megamart. At a certain point, he even starts just flying overhead, just a bit in front of them, as they had emerged from the worst of the rubble and derelict buildings and were close enough to Megamart that Gearing felt it was safe to simply lead the herd instead of constantly scouting and snooping. The fact that they appear at a glance to be a well armed and coordinated group doesn’t hurt matters any as even those that might have tried something if any of them were alone, decide this group isn’t worth the effort and simply too dangerous to even challenge. So some would-be-dangers actively avoided them as well.

But, even so, the ponies Gearing is leading start moving at an even faster clip once Megamart is within sight. Not exactly at a full run, but definitely faster than a casual trot.

Megamart’s security gets alerted by their night spotters about an incoming potential threat they can see through their scopes. The scene is enough that the guards actually get visibly concerned and start taking up defensive positions as this not inconsequential number of ponies comes charging at the store front through the cover of darkness. Given the time of night, all they can really make out is the herd as a whole, moving in their direction. And there are arguments and murmurs back and forth along the defensive line about what they should do, and if they should even wait for the incoming group to start shooting first. All of them start dreading the possibility that some hopped up mob of yellow-eyed raiders has decided to try and grab a meal at Megamart, and all of the horrors that that little nightmare would entail for everyone present should they not be able to stop them.

But, before anyone can really say, or do, anything to the approaching herd, Gearing drops down from above -suddenly appearing from the dark night with not so much as a rush of air to give him away and while the rest of the herd he’s leading is still at a distance behind- and sticks the landing into a rather bright patch of ground with plenty of lighting. As his golden brassy form is standing there with his wings held up high and scattering the light around himself, Gearing grins widely at the startled guardmares. As all of their weapons instinctively get pointed at him, because of his sudden appearance, Gearing comments, “Hey, I’m back! So, I just kicked some slaver ass and got a few folks that need to make a pit stop at Megamart before heading home.”

Keystone comes out from where she’d been getting ready for a fight, looks him over, and then sees the rest of the ponies crowd up and around Gearing as the sweaty equines manage to finally catch up to him. She goes head by head, not twice, but three times, before she asks, with complete bewilderment evident in her voice and expression, “Twenty one?! Seriously?!”

Gearing spins around, stands on his hind legs, and does a quick headcount with his foreleg before turning back to Keystone and nodding. “Yup. Twenty one… Well… twenty two need in, when you count me, but, yeah…” He looks back and forth between the various guards as he asks, “Five caps a head, right?”

The tan guardsmare that comes out to join Keystone absentmindedly nods to Gearing’s statement as she looks over the various ponies standing at the checkpoint entrance. They all look haggard. Worn. Tired to the point of exhaustion. And so covered in sweat that the smell of fresh sweat turns into a miasma around Megamart’s entryway. But, despite all of that and the death march of a pace they kept to get here, they’re all in exceedingly high spirits. Ecstatic even. And it’s not hard to figure out why as the ponies crowd around Gearing with an all time high morale that’s practically infectious.

The unicorn mare that’d ‘escaped the evil clutches of a Red Eye soldier’ steps up next to Gearing and says quietly, “Thank you, really, but… I can’t afford that right now. I didn’t have any caps to begin with and I’m not going to be able to-”

Gearing pulls out a sack from his bag as he says, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He looks them all over and grins as he says, “For everypony, of course. Head in, take a break, and, if you would, share your information about the slavers with the Finders. It’ll help everypony in the end…”

Gearing tosses a small sack of pre counted caps towards the tan mare, then hands her another ten as he says, “Here ya go, one hundred and ten caps…”

The tan mare takes it and smiles as she starts stowing it with the other entrance fees. “Checks out, head on in.”

The others start passing by, patting Gearing on the back and thanking him again as they head inside.

Keystone looks at him after the last of the sweaty herd is passing her and points at her own forehead as she says, “Uh… you’re looking a little worse for wear… You alright?” She then vaguely waves over her own front before flicking her hoof towards him, drawing attention to his various splotches of blood and bloody pock marks that are still clearly visible on Gearing.

Gearing reaches up and feels the malaligned plates, scuff marks, and other damage still present on him from getting shot so many times that evening. The crystals in his wings had already healed up. But the metal on metal shots are taking a bit longer because of the increased damage they’d done, especially from that one buck that seemed more worried about maintaining his barn door than his life. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine… Assholes just using my head for target practice, again… But, they’re dead… so…” he shrugs. “No problem… I feel great!”

The little pegasus in his head lets out a sigh as he says, ‘Getting rid of that filth was good and all… but I really do wish there was another way instead of just killing them. It helped to work off some aggression and frustration, but the emptiness is still there… And it’s not like it was ever going to do anything for how we feel about what we’d done to that poor unicorn couple.’

No… but hopefully we’re doing well enough that even they’d agree is was worth it… I- I think she’d agree. Given what she’d said and her personality. And even more so if she knew everything that’s actually going on and what we’re trying to do… Maybe we’ll get to find her later, apologize, and beg her forgiveness.

The little pegasus in his head grumps, ‘I think giving her permission to buck our head until she’s no longer mad would make us feel better than that though…’

You’re not wrong, Gearing mentally replies.

Gearing’s brought out of his unpleasant mental debate by Keystone motioning inside. Repeatedly. “Yeah, well, good job. But if you’re planning on standing out here getting pats on the back all night, you’re going to start getting on my nerves. In you go. Bottlecap was looking for you again so make sure to hit her up. And take all of that crap in with you too, I don’t want anypony tripping over your garbage.”

Gearing looks where she’d nodded her chin at and sees that the ponies he’d rescued had left a considerable pile of the things they’d taken from the slavers. And they were even courteous enough to have it packed as well as could be in short order before they headed inside. Gearing quickly throws the various bags, sacks, and satchels over his back before grabbing the other items and scurrying inside with his hard won gains carried with his wings. But his plans for finding Swift and having her perform another few circuits of playing merchant mare gets derailed after only a few short steps after making it inside Megamart proper.

The group of rescuees have spread out a bit, but not much, and a rather large commotion has broken out as word of their arrival has spread far faster than Gearing had anticipated.

As more and more ponies start gathering and clogging up the workings of Megamart, a mare’s voice calls out with a startled gasp from the left of the congregation.

“Shoe Smith?!”

One of the bucks that was in the group that was being hauled off to the Red Eye encampment steps out of the crowd, towards the voice, as he asks with clear uncertainty in his voice, “Sweet Pea?”

A Megamart guardsmare with a fully loaded battle saddle takes a few tentative steps towards him as she looks his ragged form over. “I-is that you? Is that really you, Shoe Smith?” He nods as he takes a step towards her, prompting her to let out a small choke, “I- I thought you’d died…”

Shoe Smith lets out a sigh as he says, “Fucking Usury’s goons got me… they’ve had me doing manual labor until they finally decided to sell me to somepony today.” He motions back towards the entrance to Megamart as he says, “Some crazy buck ambushed the transfer and busted us out…” He hangs his head as he tries to think of what he should say to her. Along with a few questions that he’s actually afraid of what the answer might be.

She takes a couple more steps towards him as she asks with tears in her eyes and a cracking voice, “Smithy?”

His head lifts up towards her, as his ears jump to focus on her, and gives her his undivided attention. “Yeah, Sweets?”

The nickname seems to be the final confirmation that she was so desperately searching for. Because, the moment the word is out of his mouth, she bounds at him and pony-piles him into the floor as she starts bawling her eyes out, in between planting kisses all over his face and neck, before the pair even stop sliding across the floor from the sudden massive impact as the bigger mare practically envelopes the sweaty buck.

The others jump and skip out of the way as the pair slide across the ground, earning more than a few chuckles as the mare doesn’t even care about her job or position at the moment. Even Keystone coming in to see what all the commotion is about, just in time to see the emotional glomp and yell at the mare that she’s still on duty, isn’t enough to stop the ecstatic mare from fully enjoying the unexpected reunion.

And while Keystone is still trying to get that embarrassing display under control, and fussing at them to at least go get a room somewhere to get out of traffic, another disturbance flares up not far away.

“Daddy!” a filly’s voice cries out.

The buck wearing the old stetson turns his head in time to see a light purple filly use some scrap as a springboard to bounce off of as she’s barreling straight towards him. She jumps from the scrap pile, onto the back of the unicorn mare that’d came in with him, and jumps straight towards the face of the buck with an oversized grin on her face and a tinkle in her eye.

He catches her as she latches onto his face, and spins around with her as he yells out happily, “Pumpkin!” He spins around in a circle until he actually flops down on his rear and holds her to him as he laughs. “I’m so happy to see you!”

A portly mare bursts through the crowd like a train and slides across the ground on her knees up to and into him as she yells out, “Darlin’!” She wraps her forelegs around him, and yanks him into an oppressive hug as she nuzzles him. “Rebar’d said you’d got got by them bad ponies!”

The stetson falls off his head as he pulls out of the fleshy prison enough to look at her with the filly still covering half of his face. “Rebar’d made it?! I thought they’d killed him!”

She shakes her head and smiles as she practically envelopes the poor buck. “They got him good, but not good enough. He made it back and told us what happened. Doc Bonesaw got him all patched up. We should go see him and-”

The buck reaches up, clamps her muzzle shut, and directs it down towards him. The two stares at each other for a few moments, with her being more than a bit confused, before he says quietly, “Right now there’s only one thing I wanna do, and I swore I’d do it if I ever got the chance again.” And he lets her go just enough to wrap his forelegs around her head and pull her into an oppressive hug as he starts a very aggressive kissing session that quickly devolves into making out right there in the middle of Megamart’s floor.

One of the vendors grabs a box of two century old popcorn from her display, rips it open, and starts munching on it as she shamelessly stares and apparently enjoys the show taking place not far from her booth. Quite a few others do similar, but most of the once captive ponies spend more time talking with others about what they’d been through.

Gearing, stares at the situation as a whole and suddenly doesn’t quite know what to think. Of the various things he’s been a part of, he’s not seen anything like this. Of everything he’s done, he’s always missed this moment: The Joyful Reunion. He’d always drop off folks for others to finish the final leg of their journies, and continue on with his own job while they dealt with it. In whatever condition they were in at the time. Living or not. Him returning the brave mare’s corpse to Roadie and his caravan is in the same vein, but at best it was the bitterest of bittersweet. But he’s not used to being in that position. And he feels really awkward because of it. He knows he did the right things. That saving these ponies was an objectively good pony thing to do. But there’s the taint of using them and making them be part of his own agenda. Manipulating them into aiding his machinations, whether they realize it or not. He feels like he doesn’t deserve this. Not to even be here at this moment. Seeing the outright joy of the reunions, that he facilitated, makes him feel so dirty and embarrassed that he can’t stay still anymore. Because if any of them start dragging him into it, and thanking him for what he did, he feels like he’ll actually lose it. And, what’s worse, over the commotion he’s heard more than one pony use a dirty little ‘h’ word he wants no part of being associated with. So he actually slinks away while they are still absorbed in the show.

So thoroughly does he focus on simply escaping, that he leaves behind all of the surplus that they’d left for him. With all of it sitting in a neat pile next to the wall, kindly out of the way, but without any apparent thought, or care, to if anyone will simply run off with it once they notice it’s unattended.

The only one to notice his departure is the young tan stallion with the wild eyes. And that’s only because Gearing tapped him on the shoulder with a wing as he was passing, and motioned for him to follow.

* * *

Gearing, standing in his usual spot near the old photos in Bottlecap’s office, motions towards the side as he says, “This is Ticket Taker. Goes by ‘Tix’. I figured with his past experience The Finders’d find him useful. And, given everything he’s been through since getting nabbed, I’m pretty sure he could use some gainful employment.”

Bottlecap looks between the two as the young tan stallion only steals glances at her but, otherwise, doesn’t say anything nor move. And in fact he hasn’t done so since Gearing led him in here. Bottlecap nods as she sits behind her desk and absentmindedly taps her fore hooves together. “We’re always trying to expand and could use reliable help… He any good with guard work? Can he at least take care of himself?”

Gearing nods as he motions towards Tix. “He can more than pull his weight, for sure.”

Tix, while not even looking at Bottlecap, rattles off, “I have experience with a variety of rifles and am a markspony with carbines. I’m also capable of close quarters combat with melee weapons, especially knives or similar smaller bladed implements.”

Bottlecap nods as she seems to like what she hears. But then she looks at Gearing as she says, “Well, this has been a productive day for you. Not in the way I was expecting at all though. One of the guardsmares came running in to let me know you were leading in a herd twenty strong that you’d apparently acquired from slavers.” She gives him a faint crooked grin as she says, “That must have been that lead you were referring to when you left… Your information network must be impeccable to have these kinds of results.”

Gearing grins widely at her as he says, “They are… And my sources shall remain anonymous… of course.”

“Of course,” Bottlecap replies with a warm smile. A moment later she asks, “So, you think he’ll fit? Think he’s trustworthy, given everything?”

Gearing replies flatly, “I trust he hates slavers enough that we don’t have to worry about him selling out caravans to Usury or Red Eye.”

“I’ll kill’em,” Tix says as he slowly lifts his head. He locks eyes with Bottlecap, with the same wild-eyed look he’s had for the last day or so. “If I run into any of ’em, I’ll kill’em. I see’em. They’re dead. They shoot first. Or not. I don’t care. I’ll gut them with a piece of broken glass if I have to.”

The calm even tone of it strikes Bottlecap as more of the eerie sort as she frowns lightly and gives Tix an appraising look.

“Probably wanna keep him away from Usury and her goons,” Gearing chimes in with a slight chuckle. “Or, you know, just have him as a hired contractor, not officially a Finder. I mean, you all hire Reapers for work on the regular, right?”

Bottlecap taps her fore hooves together a bit before she says, “That’s a gray area that can get nasty really quickly… but… you are correct.” She looks at Tix and replies, “As a hired extra guard, you won’t have as many perks and such as a Finders guard would get. The pay is still competitive for the position. Is that what you really want?”

Tix looks at her and asks, “Will being a Finder’s guard tie my hooves if I see one of that bitches goons?”

Bottlecap smirks before she says, “I’m afraid so. At least as far as your apparent intentions are. If they shoot at you first, that’d be fine. You’d be defending yourself and the caravan. But I can’t have any of my people actively targeting them.”

Tix looks her dead in the eye and replies, “Pay me less. I don’t care. Feed me less. I don’t care. But don’t take that away from me.”

Bottlecap actually smirks at his apparent priorities, but still doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

Gearing waves and then points at him as he says, “I’ll vouch for him. He can get the job done. And he won’t backstab anypony. If he even comes close to it, or doesn’t do what he’s supposed to, I’ll deal with him myself.”

To this declaration by Gearing, Tix looks at him, and his jaw drops as his eyes go just a bit wider. In clear fear. Tix says quietly, “I’ma good pony.”

Gearing grins at him and nods a single solitary time. “Keep it that way.”

To this, Tix nods rapidly.

Gearing looks over at Bottlecap and raises an eyebrow. After the two maintain eye contact for a bit longer she bobs her head around and smiles. Gearing dips his head and turns around to leave as he says, “Great. I’ll head out, I got a few other things I need to do tonight. I’ll leave you two to hammer out the details without me being a third wheel.” He looks back and forth between them before opening the door to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Before he can get the door all the way open, Bottlecap starts standing up to go after him as she calls after him abruptly. “Gearing!”

He looks back over at her as he freezes and she continues, “Regarding that little timer you started yesterday, you can kindly stop it. I’ve already spoken with him and we have an agreement, and an arrangement. So, now, we’re all waiting on you to proceed.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before asking, “So you have it now?”

Bottlecap nods. “Yes.” She motions towards her safe. “And I’ll turn it over to you as soon as you provide your side.”

Gearing smiles and takes in a deep breath before letting it out in an obviously relieved sigh. “Well, that’s good. Step in the right direction. You have no idea how glad I am to hear that...”

Bottlecap tilts her head and turns towards the safe as she looks at him. “Would you like to complete the next step now, or?”

Gearing shakes his head before motioning towards Tix. “No, that can wait. You having it is the important part for now. I’ve got to check in with the others, make sure they’ll be travel ready tomorrow, and that’ll give you time to hash things out with Tix here. I’ll come by later and get it from you once we’re done with our meetings. Thanks again, Bottlecap.” Then he slips out without waiting for any kind of further affirmation as she simply waves her acknowledgment.

Gearing doesn’t get far from the door before he recognizes the cotton candy mane of a mare standing off to the side of the walkway who’s currently sipping on some water from a glass bottle. As he starts passing her she tips her hat back and grins at him, with a look of stone cold sobriety on her face for once, as she says, “Twenty-one, huh? I gotta say, that’s way more than I’d expected… you must have taken that tiny seed and planted it somewhere to get that big of a haul.” She gives him a sad smile as she says, “As much as I’d love for my husband and kid to be in that mix… I’m glad I got to help somepony at least… At least someone gets some happiness out of this bullshit...”

Gearing looks over at her and then doubles back. He walks near her, keeping his face pointed in a different direction so no one else can see what he’s saying, before he starts quietly, “Mags, you gave me seeds and wanted a garden, I’m working on a fucking forest…” He pulls back and looks her in the eye as her grin just gets manically large. He locks eyes with her and says flatly, “We’re not done. We need to have a talk later. Tonight. I need to introduce you to somepony… a coworker of sorts…”

She raises the water bottle to him in a toast and grins even wider. “The more the merrier…”

He smirks at her and gives an approving nod before turning and continuing on his way.

As he’s walking down the aisle, Gearing can’t help but notice how busy Megamart still is. It’s not exactly as busy as the peak hours during the day, but it’s certainly more than he’d expect given the time of night. And it’s not simply idle browsing either, the vast majority of ponies he’s passing and walking among are either actively bartering or look like they are looking for something to purchase now. He’s not sure if something is going on, but the increase in weapons transactions definitely gets his attention. And as he and his mental companion continue to debate on the possible reasons for the spending sprees, a group crossing in front of him at the nearby intersection draws his attention.

The manner of speech of the two mares in the center of the group raises a few unpleasant flags with him. Their well kept, and clean, nature automatically puts them on a different level than most other ponies in the wastes. Their clothes were obviously chosen for aesthetics above all else, and they not only don’t seem practical but those dresses would be a detriment to them if they ever needed to actually run. Which marks yet another point of contention with them not being normal. And not in a good way. Even their mannerisms with just walking reeks of being a stuck up noble and Gearing can’t help an involuntary sneer of disgust crossing his muzzle as he sees them. The group of heavily armed personal guards surrounding the pair doesn’t even deter such display from him in the slightest.

Though a pair of guards at the tail end of the procession give him the stink eye as they are passing and seem to notice that he was paying the group just a bit too much attention for their liking.

But, as Gearing is standing next to one of the booths, waiting for the stuck up parade to finish, he gets a whiff of something from somewhere. And the second his conscious brain makes enough of a connection to even ask if that was perfume from the two walking by, Gearing practically freezes as he’s bucked in the head by a bewildering, and painful, case of nostalgia.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The bright sun shines warmly over the nearly clear skies of Canterlot as Gearing -blue fur, Stable-Tech maintenance uniform, and all- walks down the well kept streets. He’s on his way to an appointment to one of the earliest stables that were put in place. Here, in Canterlot. And he’s rather preoccupied as he hurriedly trots down the street while trying to figure out the fastest way to get in and get out. He’s got things to do and a schedule to keep and-

He comes to a dead stop mid stride as he catches a whiff of something pleasant. He looks around quickly as his muzzle breaks into a cheesy grin, before he scampers over to a small gift shop nearby. He snuffs the air, following the scent, until he’s mindlessly walking through the door.

As soon as the doors open they hit a little brass bell above the door, a classic mechanical design over the more modern electric tones. And before the tones of the twinkling bell even gets the chance to fade away, a young mare, wearing a white uniform that looks like a tour guide suit, pops her front over the counter and around the corner and smiles at him. As he’s still snuffing the air she cheerfully greets him, “Welcome to Canterlot Gift’s and More! What can I help you find today? Ministry souvenirs? Licensed model dragon eggs or School of Magic memorabilia? Toy royal guard figures?”

“Raspberry,” Gearing says flatly as he keeps arching his head and waving his snoot back and forth as he tries to find the source of what he’s smelling.

“Raspberry?” the clerk asks with a momentarily mentally derailed look of confusion on her face. Then it lights up with recognition as she asks, “Do you mean our line of Forever Flavors scents?”

Gearing takes in a deep slow snuff as he turns his head to look at her before he says, “Whatever that is that smells so strongly of Raspberries.”

She quickly comes around the counter and leads him over to an area of the shop that has small gifts. And among them are a line of racks with tiny glass bottles on them, with little spritz nozzles, and around them are boxes of the same once you decide on which one you want. Her horn glows and a couple boxes come out from the left side shelves as she rapidly goes into a sales pitch so woven together it’s like she’s trying to spit out the entire pony dictionary from her mouth with a single breath. She takes in a deep breath, and pants a few times, before she says, “So which one would you like?”

Gearing looks at them, and sniffs the boxes in turn, with the same unchanging expression, before turning his head to a set of boxes to the right. And, to the clerk’s chagrin, the much cheaper section. He slowly snuffs over the entire row, then comes back, and after a short bit of waving back and forth like a pendulum, he grabs the one bottle and gives the spritz nozzle a quick sniff.

Instantly the tangy sweet scent of raspberries fills his nostrils and just as quickly he gets a giggly grin on his muzzle as he nuzzles the bottle.

The clerk frowns at the vast discrepancy in prices, but lets out a sigh before returning to a professional demure, as she replaces the other boxes to their places. She at least tries to make her customer’s experience the best she can, even if they aren’t the biggest of spenders. “That line uses a blend of all natural oils. While not a very well known brand, it’s of very good quality and made in smaller batches using more traditional techniques instead of more modern mass production methods. Shall I ring you up? Or do you have more shopping you’d like to do?”

Gearing looks at her and gives a sheepish grin as he asks, “You said small batches, right?”

“Mmhmm. Hoof made.”

Gearing gently taps a couple other boxes of the same type. “Would three of these be allowed?”

Her eyes go wide. “Three?”

Gearing’s go back and forth between her and the boxes quickly before he asks, “Five?”

“Uuhh?”

Gearing snuffs the bottle again before he asks, “What’s it take to get a case?”

“A case?”

“A case. A whole case… How can we make that happen?”

The mare gives him an uneasy smile before she says, “Sugar, if you want a whole case of that stuff, I’m more than happy to sell it to you.”

Gearing grins widely as he starts flailing around with both fore hooves. “Great, deal! Let’s do this!” He deftly grabs a box from under the table, where it had been hidden but not quite good enough to evade his snooping, and starts hurriedly heading towards the counter to get the transaction finished before the mare changes her mind. “No need for gift wrapping, or a bag really, I have my own.” He sets the box on the counter and plants a hoof on it, a bit forcefully, as he stares at her with an excited grin on his face.

She’d hurried up after him and as he’s obviously staking claim to the case she can’t help but laugh. “You like that perfume that much, huh? Don’t worry, nopony’s going to take it from you.”

Gearing shrugs as he taps on the box and looks at it. “I just really like the smell of raspberries… Incense don’t do it, just doesn’t quite smell right, potpourri is hit and miss at best. But this smells exactly like what I’m looking for.”

She snuffs the bottle Gearing sheepishly passes to her and comments, “It does kinda have that fresh raspberry tart smell to it, doesn’t it?”

Gearing grins wider. “Exactly! It’s more… robust? I don’t know the word to describe it but it really smacks your snoot around and makes you pay attention.” He mindlessly pays as she shows him the amount blinking on the register display and quickly stows the box in his pack.

She giggles at him and waves a hoof dismissively. “Well, just don’t go eating!”

Gearing beams a smile at her and replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it. Smells amazing, can’t possibly taste as good as it smells and that’d be a huge waste!”

She giggles again and dips her head before she replies, “Well, thank you for your patronage. Remember us when you’re in the area again and make sure to stop in if you’d like some more of what we have to offer.”

Gearing heads out the door as his PipBuck starts chiming with angry messages about him being late. “Better believe it!” As he steps out into the bright light he closes his eyes and takes a few deep snuffs of the air, still rich with the scent of raspberries. “That smells divine… I should order a few more cases when I get home… just to be safe…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing’s eyes stay slightly dilated, with the tiny plates of his mechanical eyes involuntarily sliding to expose more iris, as he zones out and the rest of the world continues to move on about its own business. The disruption didn’t last terribly long in relation to reality, despite how long the sudden memory popping into his head seemed. And as violently flamboyant as that memory is, and it’s rather mundaneness, Gearing feels a deep hit of anxiety from it. It doesn’t make any sense to him. He slowly reaches up and huddles down as he can feel certain parts of himself tightening up to, and beyond, painful conditions. He grunts softly as his chest feels an increasing pressure. Like he’s slowly being crushed from the inside out.

His lungs stop working. Most of him has completely frozen up. And, he knows, if he actually needed to breath he’d probably be on the verge of passing out right now. And it just makes it so much worse because he doesn’t know why. Not even a direct hit from a grenade hurts as bad as what’s being unleashed inside of his own body.

The little pegasus in his head sweats heavily as it curls up on the ground holding its chest and asks, ‘Why? Why’s raspberries causing this? We always liked raspberries!’

No, we didn’t… Gearing mentally replies, and the pain takes a sharp turn for the worst before he adds, I don’t even know when I started getting obsessed with raspberries. Not like we eat them.

The little pegasus stares blankly for a moment before asking, ‘Wait… we haven’t bought any for a while either… when’d we stop liking raspberries so mu- OWOWOWOWOW!’ The little pegasus in his head starts thrashing around alternating between holding his head and holding his chest as the pain absolutely explodes all over his body. ‘What the fuck!?’

Gearing slowly, very slowly, raises a hoof and holds it to the left side of his head, where he’d lost part of it not long ago, and starts holding onto his head and ear as he dips down a bit more. The speed is not from him being careful, it’s because his body has gone to war with itself, and him, with such ferocity that it’s taking extreme effort to move at all.

Gearing groans quietly, “Why do I feel like I left the stove on?”

The little pegasus in his head, dripping sweat and looking extremely panicked looks at him and blurts out, ‘We forgotten something! We’ve forgotten something very important! Fuck! What is it!? Something’s wrong!’ He jumps up and starts waving flags and shaking klaxons. ‘Check ammo, check weapons, check chemicals, check ponies, check body parts, something’s missing! Something important!’

Gearing quickly flops down on his rear, right there in the aisle way, and starts looking through his PipBuck inventory. He starts going item by item, to confirm where everything is or isn’t. He goes from the most problematic, like the various darts he’s had on his person in the last couple weeks, and even sentimental, like mentally verifying that he sent the backup box of Sable with Sable so it didn’t get damaged or destroyed.

‘What’s going on? This pit in my stomach is worse than the feeling of falling after getting shot down…’ the little pegasus in his head comments.

The pit in his stomach makes him keep going through things in extreme minutia, even making a list of things to double check with Handy and Swift, until he’s rather violently saved from his own cyclic thoughts by a mare’s voice nearby drawing his attention.

“Damn, you look like you’ve seen a ghost...”

Footnote:

!!!ERROR!!! Synchronization Failed…

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

87 Keeping Busy to Avoid Thinking

Gearing looks up in the direction of the voice that he’d just heard, without actually focusing on anything nor anyone, and tries to figure out if he actually heard anyone at all or not.

A moment later the tan security mare that he’s seen patrolling so often asks again, and her voice comes across more clear and recognizable as she does, “You okay? What happened?”

Gearing stares at her for a moment, and sees genuine concern on her face, before he lamely asks, “Huh?”

She cringes a bit as she points at her eyes, “The last time I saw somepony with their eyes like that, they were about to fall over from a heart attack caused by an overdose…”

“You really do not look well,” comes a buck’s voice from the side.

Gearing looks over at the source of the voice, and is momentarily disoriented as the tan mare quickly shifts over sideways, to stay between the two, as she quickly holds up a hoof and says, “He’s just here to talk, not start anything, so please don’t either!”

Gearing notices Lodestar and, as he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, Lodestar quickly grabs a small mirror from the vendor’s table near them, and points the reflective surface at Gearing so he can see himself.

And Gearing barely recognizes the face looking back at him. It practically looks lifeless. Motionless. And the eyes are all wrong. While he can see fine, mostly, his eyes have warped to show way more pupils than they would normally. Like they’re focused on something far away, and struggling to see through the dark to do so. The infamous ‘thousand-yard-stare’ worn by so many during the war. Or, similarly, the quintessential ‘dead eye’ that many get after shedding their mortal coil and going on to whatever is after.

‘Distractions, distractions, we need distractions!’ the little pegasus bellows in Gearing’s head. ‘Diagram of a completely disassembled laser pistol! Calculate the minimum safe distance for a model t-45 suit of power armor to reach to avoid a matrix crash when a sabotaged water talisman used in a residential home goes critical and explodes! Here’s a diagram of a thrust control module circuit board, find the missing piece!’

“Safe distance is a nonlinear step function of charge time before going critical and the grade of the talisman… and the mosfet transistor is missing in the bottom right quadrant…” Gearing mutters so quietly it sounds more like the passing of a light breeze.

Gearing closes his eyes and focuses hard on the expanded diagram of the laser pistol, mentally rotating it and examining it from a variety of angles as he physically scrunches down and tries to get a hold of himself. He keeps picturing the diagram, focusing on that as much as possible as he asks flatly, “What do ya need, Lodestar?”

Lodestar and the tan mare exchange worried glances before Lodestar replaces the mirror back on the booth’s table and replies, “I wanted you to know that I’ve already given my portion of our agreement to Bottlecap. She came to me after you’d left and we worked out a deal. Have you had a chance to speak with her about it yet?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and then opens his eyes as he says, “Yes and no.” He blinks a few times and then taps on the side of his head on his left temple a couple times before he actually directs his eyes to looks at Lodestar. “I just talked with her, and she let me know she has it and ready whenever I am. But, in case you’re wondering, I haven’t exchanged anything yet.”

Lodestar’s eyes go a bit wider before he asks, “H-have you changed your mind?”

Gearing shakes his head a bit. Then shakes it a bit more violently before he goes back to looking at Lodestar and at least appearing more like he’s actually here than he looked like he was just moments before. “No. We really need those parts. But, a few other things have cropped up that have needed immediate attention by me and Bottlecap… Individually…” He waves a hoof dismissively. “She’s got shit she’s gotta tend to, and I have a couple more things I need to have done before morning so we can head back home before checking out wherever this place is you’re sending me to this time.”

Lodestar nods lightly as he looks him over. And still has a bit worried expression on his face before he asks, “Are you really good for traveling for all of that? It’s a bit away, and, I know you’re tough, and at the risk of my own neck, I think you really need to slow down.” He trails his eyes over the still plainly obvious damage on Gearing that’s still at least somewhat visible from the ambush he performed on the slaver convoy. His look of worry slowly transforms into a warm smile of admiration as he looks Gearing in the eyes. “I’ve already heard about all of those folks you’d saved today… You’re something else. But you’ve been going non stop since you got here… so…”

Gearing rubs the top of his head with a hoof and then drags it down his brassy face before he looks at Lodestar blankly. After a few moments of none of the trio saying anything, Gearing breaks the stalemate. “Look, Lodestar…”

“Yes?”

“You gave your end to Bottlecap, right?”

Lodestar gives a single nod of his head as he raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Well, then you can take a breather…” Gearing says before he takes in a deep breath. “You’ve done your part, so, as Bottlecap has put it, the timer’s stopped.”

Lodestar blinks a few times before tilting his head. “What?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Gearing replies matter-of-factly and receives startled stares from not only the pair, but a couple of ponies that were just walking by and minding their own business but somehow still felt Gearing’s killing intent despite what he was saying. “I didn’t want to. I don’t want to. And, by all that is still good in this world, I hope that you’re on the up and up and this was all just some fucked up chain of horrible coincidences so I don’t end up having to.” Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks over at the mirror again, but this time the angle is off so it’s making him see the reflection of the giant security turret on the ceiling named Gun.

Gearing looks over at Lodestar and says quietly, “Melon was very fond of you. She was more worried about you than she was about her own life. All she wanted was to get you out of there. And she did what she could to make that happen…” He shrugs. “That kind of loyalty is born of compassion… not fear… greed… or any of those other methods some of these assholes have been using to manipulate people to do their bidding.” He flicks a hoof off to the side in the direction where he sees the previous parade of snobs walking on their own business. “So, that gave me a lot to think about. And I have been doing a lot of thinking about it. And, honestly, my luck sucks. The universe hates me. So it’s very possible this has been all one huge joke at my expense curated by the horn headed fuckwad twins…”

Lodestar and the tan mare both look at each other as they try to figure out where this is going. And the mare gives a slight shake of her head and shrug of her shoulder as she’s completely clueless.

“I’m sorry about your people, Lodestar. And if my luck had anything to do with all of this, I’m sorry about that too… But I was serious about what I said. So, if the place you’re sending me to is another trap, I’m going to have to retaliate. But, if you tell me, and I mean right now, that you changed your mind, that I should not go there, and to forget the whole thing, then I will. I’ll take the data I have, and try to trade it for what we need elsewhere, and I’ll certainly never trust you again, but that’ll be it. You won’t have to worry about me doing something none of us will like. But I need to know, and I need to know now… Otherwise, even if I don’t come back, Big Daddy’s going to have to make an example of you just on principle… understand me?”

The tan guardsmare cringes as she looks to the side and mutters, “Yeah… that’s right, those two are Reapers… oooooh that’ll get real ugly real fast...”

Lodestar gently pushes past the tan mare, gets right in front of Gearing, looks him in the eye, and says flatly, “I swear it’s there. And it should have enough salvage in it to make a small fortune. I can’t guarantee the condition of any of the parts, but that should be OBVIOUS. It hadn’t really been disturbed, and locals complained about small critters nesting in the cave it’s in. But, that just confirms no one’s there. And, short of a fully operational stable, it’s your best chance for the parts you need.” He raises a hoof and points it at Gearing’s snoot. “Just remember to let me know when you’re done, so we can get the rest…”

Time practically stops as Gearing glares at Lodestar, yet Lodestar doesn’t even wince from the scathing eye contact.

With SATS activated, the little pegasus in Gearing’s head flutters around and looks Lodestar over. He pulls out a magnifying glass and gives every facial feature the scrutiny of a pawnshop broker looking at a ring. ‘Well… isn’t that something… He’s not afraid. At all. Even knowing we could, and have, yanked him off the floor by his neck with a single hoof. This… this is confidence. He’s not worried because he’s sure of what he’s saying…’

Or he’s a really good actor, wouldn’t be the first to be able to tell a lie straight faced like that, Gearing mentally muses.

‘I don’t think so… even trying to provoke him into some kinda reaction by mentioning the Reapers didn’t do it. If nothing else, it seemed to fill him with more confidence…’ The little pegasus looks back at Gearing and shrugs. ‘I think he’s on the level… or at least thinks he’s on the level.’

He’s betting his life on it, Gearing adds.

‘Yeah, and he seems to have said ‘I’ll take that bet’ without reservation…’ The little pegasus flutters around and looks at the tan security mare. ‘See here, she’s already doing the math. She’s already picturing Big Daddy busting in here to get him if things go south, and realizing that she’s going to either have to willing get out of the way, or get trampled under hoof from the whole Reapers herd…’ the little pegasus waves back and forth between the tan mare and Lodestar. ‘Two entirely different reactions… she’s unsure of how things will go, but fully aware of the consequences, he’s also aware of the consequences… yet he’s the picture of stable…’

Gearing finishes the thought for him, Which would imply he has a high confidence in how this thing is going to go…

‘So?’ the little blue pegasus asks as it flutters around in the hyper slowed mental space of Gearing’s head. ‘How’re we doing this?’

We’re going to give him the benefit of the doubt. And stop shitting on him and trying to provoke him into revealing something that may not exist… At least until he gives us a good reason to distrust him. Directly, Gearing replies and cancels SATS while it still has some charge left.

As time resumes to normal for Gearing, he maintains hard eye contact with Lodestar. The tan mare gets visibly nervous at not just Lodestar’s apparent boldness, but Gearing’s unyielding stare.

But then, Gearing actually cracks a smile. “If you’re that serious about it, then, damn, maybe I’ve caught a break for once.” He quickly reaches up and gives Lodestar a brohoof by slapping the end of the hoof Lodestar had pointed at him, startling the other two in the process. Then he starts carrying on down the aisle as he says, “The transfer should be done by morning, and we’ll be headed out around daybreak… Expect me back with information in a week or so.”

As Gearing is just getting passed them, the tan guardsmare yells, “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Gearing looks over at her and she asks with a raised eyebrow, “That’s it!? You go from ‘rampaging dragon out for blood’ to ‘don’t worry about it’ just like that?”

Lodestar looks at her and narrows his eyes for a moment. “Considering it’s my blood he’d been after, I’d thank you to not unnecessarily draw attention to that fact… Please and thank you.”

Gearing smirks as he waves a hoof nonchalantly. “I only kill when it’s necessary. He’s fulfilling his side of the bargain to keep his hide intact. So not only would killing him be a waste of time, it’d be counter productive for my own goals. I wasn’t kidding. I really do hope I don’t have to kill him. I mean, you’ve seen the bounty sacks I’ve brought in, so you know I can and will if need be… But until then… yeah… ‘that’s it’… Sorry if you found it boring and anticlimactic or whatever.” And, personally seeing the topic done, he continues on his way as the other two stay behind and try to process everything that just happened.

Noticing that the crowd that included the rescued ponies, while much smaller, was still taking up a substantial portion of the front section of Megamart, Gearing goes out of his way to backtrack and cross over towards the Megamart cots that Handy and Swift have been staying at. He doesn’t want any of the crowd to spot him and drag him into any further uncomfortable conversations tonight. Things have taken a weird twist and he needs time to process everything before adding anything more onto whatever is left of his psyche.

As Gearing gets onto the aisle that runs right along, and then into, the Megamart ‘motel’ Gearing’s eyes are drawn to the only pony who’s not currently in motion going one way or the other. Down closer to the motel entrance, is an orange unicorn mare caravanner who has taken up a position in front of a closed booth. And, judging by the pile of cigarette butts in the sparkle cola bottle she’s using as an ashtray, she’s been there for a while. And the atypical behavior really draws his attention even more as she seems to be focused in at the motel, a certain area in the back specifically, but then looks around herself every now and then.

‘Is she on a stake out?’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it flutters along lazily. ‘She’s doing a horrible job of trying to be inconspicuous if that’s the case…’

Gearing looks over into the motel when he gets further along enough to get a good view of what she could be looking at. And a frown covers his muzzle as he notices that she seems to be staring at Swift, and or Handy. Given their location and the direction her eyes are focused.

‘Think she’s an Ironhoof fan and just trying to work up the courage to say something to her?’ the little pegasus asks.

But the orange mare turned her head to her right, looking towards the front of Megamart, and leans forward a bit to try and see even further around the other folks and booths. And, while being just as blatantly obvious about it, she turns her head and does the same the other way. In Gearing’s direction. Except this time her head stops mid turn as she obviously sees exactly what, or who, she’s been looking for judging by the practical twinkle in her eye and the massive grin that explodes on her muzzle.

As the orange mare and Gearing make unquestionable eye contact, Gearing and the little pegasus both exclaim into his head space ““Fuck…’””

She steps out away from the closed booth a bit, as her magical aura envelopes the sparkle cola bottle and she rapidly sucks down the last of the cigarette before putting it out in rapid fashion. All before Gearing manages to get very many more steps closer to her.

‘Should we just say fuck it and run?’ the little pegasus asks as it frowns and doesn’t like where this might be heading.

Fuck it, lets at least hear her out, Gearing mentally replies as he continues down the walkway. He keeps his pace the same casual rate he’d been in before catching eye contact with her. And he can’t help but smirking a bit as he notices how she seems to be fidgeting a lot and fighting with herself as she gets herself situated and prepares herself for whatever she has planned. And, to help matters, Gearing doesn’t simply burn a hole into her face by staring at her. He’s kind and civil enough to casually look around as he’s heading in her direction, and gives her the time she apparently needs to get herself presentable. A fact he finds both amusing and curious as she mindlessly brushes at her caravanner’s coat with a hoof to bat around one wrinkle or another.

As he’s getting close to her, and a couple paces from actually passing her, she steps out just enough to make sure he’ll see her as she calls out cheerfully. “H-hey… Fixer! Y-you got a minute?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he steps to the side, next to the stall, and directly in front of her. And the smile on her face instantly jumps to one that could only be described as beaming with optimism. Gearing takes in a deep breath before asking, “Hey, sure. What’s up?”

The orange mare looks around quickly as she seems to try and figure out what words are again. Then she grins and waves a hoof towards the front of Megamart. “Well.. I just- I mean I just- well, first of all, congrats on your success tonight… Great job… You did great. Yeah. Good job. Great even!”

Gearing’s smile remains just as it was when he greeted her, but internally he’s groaning like a whale falling in slow motion. And the little pegasus in his head really doesn’t like where this might be going. “Uh, yeah, thanks.”

She looks around as she smacks her lips. Her eyes dart around quickly before she suddenly jerks towards him, with her muzzle pointed towards the closed stall, and then starts talking in hushed tones. “You, uh, deal in information… right? I think I got some information you would especially be interested in…” She glances sideways, getting eye contact with him, before pulling back and looking around as she tries to not look so nervous. “Got time tonight to go over it? Not here… I know a spot… but… too many ears… here… ya know?”

Gearing looks around and sees that most of the ponies don’t seem to give a lick one way or another about them standing where they are. But, every now and then, some do look at them and acknowledge their presence. And, given how nervous the mare seems to be, he can guess what she might have to say: something potentially dangerous. Gearing looks her in the eye and nods. “Yeah. I’ve tried to make that as common knowledge as possible… Just let me know where.”

Her face lights up as she quickly pulls out a folded piece of paper from her caravanner jacket. “Great! That’s- that’s great… here… I made this up in advance. How about an hour from now?”

Gearing takes the piece of paper and doesn’t even look at it as he carefully stows it. “I’ve got... at least… two more meetings I need to hit first. How about two hours from now?” He double checks his PipBuck for the time and nods as he looks up at her. “Two hours should be enough to get through everything and get there.”

She grins even wider as she giggles. “Buck, you are buusssssss-EY! Huh?” She nods as she looks around again. “Two hours. Great. See you there, third floor, in two hours.” She turns and trots off, around and past him as she keeps giggling. “Thanks for hearing me out! I look forward to it!” Then quickly skittering away.

Gearing raises an eyebrow and waves at her with a wing before turning his attention to the piece of paper quickly. He pulls it out and opens it just enough to see the whole interior, and activates SATS.

The little pegasus in his head zips around looking at it as he starts guesstimating distances. ‘Hey, actually, that’s like… south… west? Of that Pony Joes that Dandy warned us about on the way to take care of Cookie, right? Looks about right given the other buildings and the direction she has on here… well done map really.’

Gearing mentally agrees, and then cancels SATS. He quickly closes the paper back up and stores it again, before opening the map function on his PipBuck. To the rest of the world it appears he barely opened the paper before closing it again a fraction of a second later and stashing it in his pocket. He glances around on the electronic map of his PipBuck, going by memory of the drawn map, until he’s pretty sure he sees the building he’s supposed to meet her at. And just to make things easier on himself later, he places a marker on the general location before closing out of the PipBuck and finally going on over to the cots.

Again it isn’t hard for Gearing to find Swift and Handy, as they are not only in the same spot they were previously, but others seem to be actively avoiding them. But it doesn’t give off the vibe of them being afraid, it actually feels more like a respect type thing. Which Gearing can’t help but puzzling over as he’s walking over to the two in the far corner.

Gearing takes note of the pile of used rags near Handy’s cot. And since they both seem to be awake even if they’re laying down he doesn’t feel too bad about calling out, “Feeling any better, Handy?”

Handy doesn’t even look at Gearing as he replies, “A bit actually… Still feeling crunchy and tired but now that the sinus pressures dropping it doesn’t feel like Discord is fucking my face with a giant red wood…”

Swift’s already lifting her head at Gearing’s voice, but snickers and looks at Handy with a giggle for the description. “Yeah, we’ve just been resting all day. Really needed it after those tunnels. So we’ve just took it easy today. Though you’ve been gone all day and we were starting to get a bit worried about-” She stops speaking as she turns her head and looks at Gearing. “The hell Gearing?!” She sits up in the bed and looks him over as she scowls. “What’d I say about not going off and starting a war without me?!”

Handy turns his face to look and see what Swift is talking about, and slowly his eyes open to their max as he actually sees Gearing. “Uh, busy day, I take it?”

Gearing nods as he points back towards the front. “Saw some slavers while I was stretching my wings… so… dropped in… dropped them… then brought the folks they had all collared up back here.”

“Uh huh” Swift replies as she narrows an eye. “And you just happened to run into a large group of them that had enough firepower to do that to you?” She waves a hoof towards Gearing’s chest. “Just all willy nilly like that? Huh?”

Gearing grins as he says, “Hey, you said as long as it was a small skirmish, it’s fine… I haven’t started no wars.”

Swift puffs her cheeks up a bit, but then laughs. “Got me there… but… you sure that wasn’t a war? Looking a bit rough… Need some potions?”

Gearing shakes his head and waves it off nonchalantly. “Nah, not this time. I’m healing fine now. No reason to waste the potions on me. Save them for when we really need them.”

Almost like his body is trying to prove the point, a plate on Gearing’s chest makes a slight ‘ping’ sound as it straightens out more and knocks a piece of embedded shrapnel off and onto the floor.

Handy takes in a deep breath, coughs a couple of times, and stretches out more in the cot before he looks at Gearing and asks softly, “So, really, what happened after you left us last night?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he rolls his eyes. “Well, given I just strangled Lodestar and pissed off the security mares I figured it’d be a good idea to go cool my hooves somewhere… I got some stuff from Patches, and found out there’s been a problem with scorpions stinging ponies, so I talked with Bonesaw and he told me where it was happening. Went there, dug around, found a huge nest of the bastards in a culvert. Destroyed the whole nest… Caught some air and snooped around. Saw a group of ponies with bombs on their necks getting dragged off. So took the slavers out, removed the collars, and they told me about another group coming through they’d heard about… So, I had them follow me, and I led them through slaver territory and worked on coming here. Kept having them hide while I went ahead and took care of problems and scouted. One of the pit stops we made, I ran across the slave transfer they’d mentioned. At least I think it was the same transfer… well… anyway… That turned into a real fight. I managed to take a couple of them down without getting noticed, but then dumb luck struck and the one looked back just as I was carrying off another. The next second bullets were flying everywhere. The SMGs were annoying, but the real problem was the assault carbines on the one buck’s battle saddle. Fucker was good. He’s the one that did the majority of the real damage on me… Once I was done with the slavers, I got the bombs off, hid the bodies to give us a head start, and led the whole herd back here… The biggest delay with it was having to lead that whole group of earth ponies back here. While keeping them safe and avoiding more trouble… Which was hard given there was twenty-one of them.”

Handy lifts up a bit and looks at Gearing as he asks, “Whoa, hold on a minute… you did all of that… Just since you left? Last night? In a single day?!”

“Uh… yeah?” Gearing asks with a crooked smile.

“Holy shit, you have been busy… no wonder you’ve been gone so long..”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head’s eyes go wide as he asks ‘Really? I was worried it wasn’t enough considering the actual giant time period I dedicated to fucking with Red Eye and Usury… Was worried he caught on to the discrepancy and we’d have to bullshit some schedule filler, guess not…’

“Legendary.”

Gearing turns to look at the source of the voice, behind and to his right, and sees a yellow young colt sitting on the floor and staring at him. The colt sips on his sparkle cola before he asks, “You’re the one that really did all of that? Bust all of those ponies out by yourself?” He waves towards the front of Megamart blindly as he keeps staring at Gearing. Gearing smirks, bobs his head around before giving the young colt a slow nod. The colt grins and raises his bottle in Gearing’s direction. “Awesome! Freaking legendary! Wait till I get back to Chapel and they hear this, they’ll never believe it and be sooo jealous that I met you! Like a comic book character!”

Gearing chuckles before he waves it away. “I don’t know about all that… Just right place at the right time it seemed… Really lucky for them I was in the area and could help.”

“I’d say!” The colt giggles before taking a bigger swig from his drink. He waves the bottle at Gearing as he says, “Hey, by the way, one of the shop ponies sent me to find you. Said you’d be easy with your armor to spot. They weren’t kidding! Anyway, they said a few of them are keeping an eye on your stuff at the front door. And no ones gonna make off with it. But they sent me to say they hope you do something with it soon because… yeah… you shouldn't just dump stuff off and expect ponies to not notice it sitting there.”

Gearing nods as he says, “Thanks. And tell them sorry. I just had to hurry up and meet with Bottlecap and a couple others. We’ll deal with it in a bit.”

The kid puts the bottle in his mouth and waves with both forehooves as he says while taking a drink, “Mmmhmm!” and turns and hurries off back towards the front of Megamart.

“‘Stuff’? What ‘stuff’?” Swift asks as she starts eyeballing Gearing.

Gearing looks at her and gives her a sheepish grin. “Well… Raiders are good for filling saddle bags… turns out, slavers are too.” He smirks as he says, “Got more stuff for you to sell.”

Swift starts laughing as she flops down on the cot.

Gearing’s ears perk up at a thought before he walks over to Handy. “Hey, Handy… Here, let me show you that comic book cover.”

Handy looks up at him with just his eyes without moving otherwise from where he had laid back down. “What?”

Gearing stoops down and starts sorting through some of their things as he says, “Remember? When we were on the way to Chapel? You asked what I did and comic books came up and I said I’d show it to you when we got back to Megamart?”

“Uh… yeah? What about it?” Handy asks with a sigh.

Gearing carefully pulls out the old treasure, and holds it up at an angle so the lights above can do as much justice to it as possible. “Check it ooooooout…” He tilts sideways to look at it while being closer to Handy. “That’s something, ain’t it? A full wrap around cover, and in such good condition too! Too bad it was just the cover, I figured it was too much to ask for it to be the whole thing. But, can dream right? Well, this just means that I need to find the rest of it, and that’s going to be a long trek, I’m sure. Maybe I can find intact pieces and just piece a whole one together? Maybe if I made a trip to Manehatten to the publisher’s head office they might have the rest of it. OUUUuuu or they might have others too! That’s an idea!”

Handy slowly lifts himself up, to look at Gearing eye to eye. He can’t help a smile forming on his own muzzle, despite how bad he feels, as he can practically feel the excitement coming from Gearing. “You’d seriously fly all the way to the ruins of Manehatten, just to dig around for some old comics?”

Gearing looks back and forth between him and the comic cover as he sheepishly starts putting it away. “I mean… not when busy, and got more pressing matters… but when things tone down and I can manage some extended free time… Why not? I’ve gone further for comics before…”

“Oh, really?” Swift asks from her cot with a gleam in her eyes. “How far have you gone for comics?”

“Uuummmmm...”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the Stormfront’s personal maintenance bay, things have progressed considerably since Gearing was added to the roster. Equipment had been getting cycled back into service quickly enough to the point that many bays were routinely left entirely empty. Given everything that was going on, and never ones to miss opportunities when they were discovered, the decision was made to dedicate an entire bay to Gearing. His work and education. Simultaneously. Here Gearing would be able to run the gauntlet of crash courses for his education, but in a way that helped the unit even more. He’d regularly get guidance on how to do things. But, they also came to a compromise by giving things that they are sure he can handle on his own, so he can work at his leisure even while not being directly supervised, when he wishes. Especially at night or down hours when the majority of the others would be resting. If nothing else, the Vertibuck incident made this change mandatory for the highly motivated little pegasus.

In what has become the norm during evening hours since the allotment was made, Gearing is sitting in his little maintenance bay turned workshop working away. This time on a circuit board. He’s not sure where it came from. He’s not even sure if this thing is really supposed to work. But they handed it to him and told him to find out what was wrong with it and fix it if he could. He’s gotten through so much of his work that he’s starting to wonder if this is either some kind of busy work. A thing just to give him something to do while they are elsewhere so they don’t have to worry about him since he’ll be too busy to do anything anyway, or if it’s some kind of test of his abilities. At some point it crosses his mind that maybe part of the test is simply to admit you don’t know what you’re doing. But, he hasn’t reached that point yet. He’s tracing one electronic line after another, testing each and every capacitor, every component, and he’s going from bottom to top. All without a circuit diagram.

A task worse than putting a puzzle together that has no edge pieces and with no picture to know what it’s even supposed to look like. But, still, it’s a puzzle that he feels is worth doing.

A puff of black smoke appears above him and, without looking, Gearing twitches his ears and says quietly, “Hey, Skip, what’s up?”

Skip’s soft musical voice carries down to Gearing before he uncoils and hangs upside down by his tail in front of him, “Besides me?”

Gearing smirks and spares him a glance as he nods. “Yeah, besides you… And the ceiling, and the sky, and the moon.”

“You forgot the stars,” Skip quips with a giggle.

Gearing continues working over the electronics as he says, “If I have to start naming off heavenly bodies, in full, I think I’m going to just quit instead.”

“Lookie what I gooooot,” Skip’s voice musically calls down as he stretches out a hoof in front of Gearing.

Gearing’s eyes trail up for a second, then he drops his tools as his mouth hangs open. Apparently getting the response he was looking for, Skip slowly swings his hoof side to side, watching as Gearing’s head seems to turn into an amusing turret as it keeps his muzzle pointed at the small paper bound magazine in his hooves.

Gearing’s muzzle splits into a growing grin as he slowly leans in, rapidly tapping on the table he’s working on with his fore hooves, as he asks excitedly, “Is that the latest Power Ponies?!”

“Uh HUH!”

Gearing looks up at Skip as he asks with a raised eyebrow, “I thought production and release was delayed because of Ministry of Image concerns?” He looks at the comic book in front of his muzzle as he grins. “Did they change their mind?”

Skip shakes his head, “Uh uh.” Gearing looks up at him with an arch of his brow and Skip giggles as he says, “This is an early edition!” He waves it around again, giggling as Gearing’s head again does a turret impersonation. “Ministry of Image hasn’t gotten their grubby little hooves on it yet.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he asks, “You mean this is the real version!?” He slowly looks down at the book as he says, “They’d already confiscated the entire production line… How’d you… ?”

Skip drops down, flips around, and lands near Gearing in a smooth transition as he sets the pristine comic on the table next to Gearing. “Ohhh… you say that like locked doors and ultra security in a government building means anything to me and dark places.”

Gearing rapidly taps his fore hooves together as he squeals. “Ouuuu this is so amazing, thank you!” He reaches for it, but stops as Skip puts a hoof over it, barring Gearing from taking it. Gearing’s grin fades as he trails his eyes up Skips foreleg to look at his face. Which currently has a massive grin across his muzzle.

“Just one condition…” Skip says as he looks over at the smaller technician.

“Oh drat…” Gearing grumbles as his ears fall down. “What is it?”

Skip taps on the book as he says with a grin. “We read it together. I’m not going to let you run off with it, and then spoil it for me with all your jabbering.”

Gearing’s ears spring up, as does he, and he kicks his legs around in excitement as he momentarily hovers in place. “Deal! Deal, deal, deal!”

Skip grin and flips the page, and they both, simultaneously, lean in and take in a deep whiff of the comic’s opening pages. Skip lets out a chuckle as he says, “I love that new comic smell!”

“I know right?!” Gearing blurts as he quickly starts reading over the pages one at a time.

They start going page by page, word by word, side by side. But, at a pace set by Skip. For one, Skip’s not nearly as fast of a reader as Gearing is. Secondly, Skip likes to take in the art of the comics on a page by page basis. Whereas Gearing likes to blast through the comic as quickly as possible, absorbing the story practically through osmosis, before immediately coming back and giving the comic a second read, where he carefully goes over the various art and layout of the actual comic. To give it the proper appreciation that it deserves.

As they are getting near the end of the comic, Cross walks around the corner on her way to the far end of the maintenance wing. She turns her head towards the inside, hearing the giggling taking place as the pair read, and can’t help but stop walking as she looks in. “Hey…” She starts walking forward towards them as she asks, “What’s so funny? What are you two up to this time?”

“Reading,” Gearing says flatly as he carefully turns the page without even looking up the moment Skip indicates he’s done by taking his hoof off the bottom right corner of the page.

Before Skip gets his hoof back on the book, it glows with Cross’s magic as she picks it up to look at its cover as she asks, “Oh? What’s so good that has you so enraptured?” Her eyes go wide for a moment before she asks, “Hey… They told me at the comic store that this one was delayed for like two months…” She lowers it back down to the counter before she looks between the two. “How’d you two get a hold of a copy already?”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof as he looks at the comic. “Production wasn’t delayed… the books got made… They just got intercepted by Ministry of Image goons before it hit shelves.”

Cross eyes go wide for a moment before she instantly whips her eyes over to glare at Skip. Who, unapologetically grins back and jumps his eyebrows a few times as he’s clearly not even going to deny what she’s about to ask. She lets out a sigh as she asks, “Did you seriously bring contraband into the facility?”

They both look up at her for a moment, as Skip’s grin just gets wider before he says musically, “Yeeeeeesss… Yes, I did.”

Cross slaps a hoof over her eyes and growls as she says, “You’re supposed to say ‘no’! When a superior rank asks you if you're playing with contraband you’re supposed to say ‘no’! Dammit!”

Gearing stares at her for a bit longer before his muzzle breaks into a big smile as he replies, “No…”

She looks over at him, and smirks. A moment later she summons up her phantasmal folded paper and pops him on top of his head once with it with a smile before she starts walking away and waving the whole thing away. “I heard a ‘No’ That’s good enough for me…. Enjoy you two brats.”

The pair give dismissive waves of their respective fore hooves as they go back to reading.

A couple pages later, more than enough time for Cross to have gotten well out of hearing range, Gearing asks softly, “So… about that new crossover comic from the indie artist?”

Skip shrugs as he says, “No telling where they hid it at. They seem to have completely confiscated that with no intention on ever releasing it… modified or otherwise.”

Gearing keeps looking over the artwork on the page without flipping to a new one as he comments evenly, “Well, if I find it, you get’em?”

Skip slowly turns to look at him. Ever so slowly his eyebrow raises. “Just how are you going to find out where they shoved them off to?”

Gearing waves a hoof dismissively. “Oh, please. Their security is a joke. And their discipline is even worse… The last time I was in their office, they had their damn passwords written on pieces of paper and taped to their desks. The ‘cleverest’ among them taped it under the keyboard. Taking a peek at their manifest lists is less challenging than actually going to the comic store on new comic day…”

A grin slowly grows across Skip’s muzzle. “What’s this?! Has my little Nitro been up to some extracurricular activities? Hmmmmm? Maybe putting his government funded training and skills to use for personal reasons?”

Gearing looks over at him and grins. “It was an exercise. Extracurricular. But still an exercise.”

“An exercise in what, hmmm?” Skip asks with more than a bit of amusement in his voice.

“An exercise in teaching them not to steal my shit. Shoulda kept their grubby little hooves off my mail, and they wouldn’t have to spend a week manually going through paper hard copies because their catalog system was down…” Gearing replies with a grumble.

Skip’s jaw drops before he points a hoof at him. “That was you?! Nitro, that made the news! There was a huge stink trying to track down if it was a hardware failure, software, or both. And all of the companies were blaming the other company manufacturers about it!”

Gearing rolls his eyes as he groans. “Don’t remind me! That’s why I had to break in again… to fix it for them… I mean it was such an easy bit, I figured their people would sort it out in a day, maybe two, and be back at their grubby hooving ways… But nooooo they’re apparently too stupid to figure it out, and it just kept going and going… Next thing you know there’s talks about inter ministry inquiries… special counsels… massive investigations… CEOs getting dragged in to explain themselves… A whole ordeal… So I just popped in, fixed it, and popped out.”

Skip leans over and gives Gearing a hug. “Ooohhhh I’m so proud of you! Your first bit of unsupervised espionage started a national incident!”

Gearing smirks as he’s being hugged by the bat pony and asks, “Is this really something you should be proud of me for? I mean… the felonies? Sooo many felonies...”

Skip turns Gearing’s head to face him and grins. “Gearing! Your affinity for technology is amazing! I’m going to recommend they add some networking security and some real deep dive training to your curriculum. You’ve got too much talent to not take advantage of and nurture it. Both software and hardware sides. It should harmonize with your Stable-Tec coursework beautifully!”

Gearing grins as he perks up. “That means more books!”

Skip nods. “Yup!” He tilts sideways and leans against Gearing as he asks quietly, “How soon you think you can find the location of that book?”

Gearing leans against him and looks at him sideways as he replies just as quietly, “Couple days. Easy.”

“What about other books they’ve hidden good enough we haven’t even heard of them yet?”

“Still easy. They use the same database on the back end. For all of it… Five minutes uninterrupted at their terminals and I can have the whole manifest list…”

“Do it. I’ll get whatever you can find.”

“Deal,” Gearing replies with a grin. “What’s a few dozen felonies between friends?”

The two, while giggling and leaning sideways against each other, reach out with a fore hoof and bop their hooves together in a joyful brohoof celebrating their little conspiracy to liberate ill-gotten literature.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing looks between Swift and Handy as a coy grin crosses his muzzle. “I’ve done some reeeeaaaaal shady shit for comics before.”

Handy snickers before he says, “Somehow I don’t doubt that.”

Swift quickly follows up by asking, “Not going to give us anything more than a teaser, Gearing?”

Gearing grins at her and shrugs. “Maybe later. To fully appreciate the scale of my tomfuckery, would take a lot of explaining. And I gotta meet up with a few ponies in a bit and get some more information. Hopefully a few more leads.”

Swift narrows her eyes before she asks, “Let me guess… more leads that’ll end up with you hauling back a lot more shit you’ll want me to sell for you again, right?”

Gearing waves a hoof as he gets a sly grin across his muzzle. “I meeaaaan… you’re not wrong… probably…”

Handy snickers more and Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes before she grumbles, “With all the crap you keep bringing back, why don’t you just open your own store already?!”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Handy comments quietly as he’s laying on the cot and looking at the ground.

Both Gearing and Swift look over at him, expecting him to go on.

“Seriously?” Swift finally asks.

Handy shrugs as he keeps looking at the floor. “I mean, I like fixing things. It could be a steady source of income without having to get shot at… or sick…”

Gearing slips over and sits next to and a bit in front of him, drawing Handy’s attention, before he says, “You know. That’s not a bad idea.” When Handy looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, Gearing continues, “Even at the height of everything, there wasn’t enough repair ponies. Always in high demand. Even as far back as I can remember, even the small independently owned shops did good business. Ponies made damn good livings even on small appliances like toasters and radios. Fast forward to now? With manufacturing being all but gone, and repairing being the only choice?”

Handy actually smiles as he stretches out. “I get what you mean. Could take things others would see as salvage or just junk and turn it into repaired goods. Sell it for far more.”

Gearing eagerly nods. “Yeah, and, because of that, you could easily make some deals with other shop owners. Go by commission, or just sell to them outright.”

Handy slowly rubs on his chin as he comments, “You know, I already have the maintenance section back up…”

Gearing leans closer as he says, “And I do enough spelunking anyway. I could start bringing back the smaller appliances and we could see where that leads us…”

Swift had slowly positioned herself to lay onto her stomach as she watches the two talk and directs her attention towards them. She can’t help but finding the sight so endearing. Especially with how passionate they both clearly are about the topic. It’s all over their faces. And the more they talk, the more happy she gets. She can’t help getting the feeling that she’s seeing a friendship truly start to bloom. She’d hoped they would reconcile, and at least get civil to each other. But, in her heart of hearts she hoped they would become actual friends. They have so many similarities, even if neither of them would ever admit it. The two of them huddled together conspiring together over a passion project is almost too much for her to enjoy.

Then the topic came up of naming the shop.

Swift’s ears jump up in alarm as she realizes how deep and how quickly this ‘little chat’ has gone down a proverbial rabbit hole.

“Why’d I encourage this?” Swift groans and deflates into the cot as she moans, “I’ve made a mistake…”

But the other two are oblivious to Swift’s despair as their excited chatter continues unabashedly.

Footnote:

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

!!!ERROR!!! Synchronization Failed…

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

88 Tangled Webs

While Swift is still burying her face into the cot, moaning in misery at the potential hell she’s unintentionally unleashed on herself, with the potential of being a salesfilly forming vividly in her mind's eye, the conversation between Gearing and Handy continues on swimmingly. And the longer they talk, the worse she feels. Of all of the currently existing things she thinks she could be doing with her life, being the one stuck bartering with everypony under the sun is not on her list of ‘top choices’.

But, eventually, Gearing puts a halt to the conversation with Handy as he realizes he still has a few things he needs to do during the night.

“Hey, Handy, let's pick this back up when we get to 68 and we can work out more of the details on how we’re going to go about doing this.”

“Why wait ‘til then? It’s a long trip back, we could talk about it on the way there too!”

Swift groans.

Gearing grins widely as he hops up. “Great idea!”

Swift groans louder.

Gearing waves towards the front door. “We’ll sort that out on the way. But, before then… do you two think you’ll be ready to go in the morning?”

Swift lifts her head up as she scowls. “Why?”

Gearing waves back and forth. “Well, Bottlecap has the info, so once I get it from her, we can head out. And the sooner we leave-”

Swift perks up as she says, “The sooner we can get back to the kids!”

Gearing grins and nods. “Exactly.”

Swift tilts her head. “Why not just leave now?”

Gearing waves a hoof around to brush the idea away. “I still have a couple more things to get done, and that’s going to take a couple hours. Plus, that’ll give you two more time to rest before we get going.” He looks back and forth between them before he says, “Once we get going, I want to be hoofing it as quickly as we can.”

Swift’s eyes squint a bit as she smiles. “Oh, we can go fast. That won’t be a problem at aaallll.”

Handy smashes himself into the cot as he groans. “I know that tone, Swift… I’m not gonna like this, will I?”

Swift scrunches up her shoulders a bit before she says sweetly, “I guess that’ll depend entirely on you… I can’t feel emotions for you, you know…”

Gearing snickers as Handy smashes himself into the cot more and mutters a few choice words into the fabric he’s laying on. He reaches over and pats Handy on the shoulder gently before turning away. “You guys rest up, I’ll go get what I need to do done, and we can leave in the morning. That way we won’t have to worry about a lot of the other crap and can make good time back home.”

They both wave Gearing off as he leaves, but don’t say anything else. But, Gearing can tell, the groaning sense of anticipation is eating more at Handy than it is Swift now. And she’s more than a little amused by that fact. Which just makes Handy groan even more as he wonders what her sick twisted little mind has come up with to torture him with this time.

Gearing quickly grabs the things that were left at the front of the store, and takes them back to the cot area by flying over the crowds with it. He notices that the pile seems to be just a bit bigger, but can’t quite put a pinion on what’s there that wasn’t previously. And, frankly, he has other things to worry about at the moment. So he just dumps it off near Swift, ignoring the swears she throws at him as he quickly leaves, and then bolts out of Megamart using the roof access.

Once again, he’s thankful the turrets on the roof of the shopping hub aren’t really there to keep people in or out, but simply to pick off any hostiles that they detect. Even so, he makes sure to more than give them their due respectable distance as he heads off to his planned meeting area.

The building in question isn’t hard for him to find. He’s been there before. It was the same crumbling multistory building that Handy and Swift had slept in, been ambushed by greedy would-be bounty hunters, and then liberated by Gearing’s patented version of the ‘fuck around and find out’ game where they made the wise choice and decided they really didn’t want to find out, so they stopped fucking around.

Gearing comes in from the top, going in through a broken window that Handy had used to check out the horde in front of Megamart before they actually went in for the first time. He flicks on his EFS and takes a look around to see who, or what, might be around. Unsurprisingly, and one of the reasons he keeps it off, he spots a number of red chevrons that he really doesn’t want to deal with right now. He hopes they are just more insects looking for a meal, but he keeps an eye on them even so. But, in one direction he sees a moving blue marker, and another he sees a stationary one as well.

He stares in the direction of the stationary marker and comments, “I bet I know who that is.” And he quickly walks over and through a hole in part of the building as he zeros in on his target. Along the way he comes across a radroach that has part of its head stuck in a can. Gearing can’t help but smirk as he recognizes the can. “I guess ponies aren’t the only ones that enjoy centuries old peaches…”

He removes the red chevron from his peripheral vision with a casual step that flattens the can into thin sheet metal, and coats the surrounding area with another gooey pulpy mess. Though this one certainly wouldn’t qualify as a ‘vegetarian’ option on any menu it might find itself on.

Gearing finishes walking down the rest of the short hallway, and turns in at the doorway to look inside. Sure enough, the pony he’d had in mind is standing there by the far wall of the room with no windows.

Tix is already staring at the door when Gearing reveals himself and he gives Gearing a respectful dip of his head before he says, “Was wondering who killed the roach. Figured it was you. Heard it from here. Along with the crunch of that can. Not many ponies can do that with a single step.”

Gearing smirks as he walks in and looks around quickly before sitting in front of Tix with his back to the door. “What can I say… I have a lot of ass to haul around.” This earns a slight smirk from the buck in front of him. Gearing slowly looks Tix over as he waits for their co-conspirator to show up.

Tix is currently much better off looking than he was earlier this evening. The young buck has managed to get himself cleaned up pretty well. And his mane’s not so ratty. Though his tail, what’s left of it anyway, can’t really be seen under the traveling coat normally worn by the caravaneer crews. Taking in a quick inventory of what he can see, and guess at, Tix has a few knives hidden on his person, along with a rather large hunting knife that seems like it’s bordering on being reclassified as a machete. Then there’s the revolver strapped to one foreleg, and a pump action ‘caravaneer’s friend’ shotgun on his back. All in all he’s had a massive upgrade compared to what he walked in with. Which was nothing but his hide and his life.

Gearing waves towards him as he asks, “You change your mind on joining up with the Finders?”

Tix shakes his head as he maintains eye contact with Gearing. “Not a chance.”

Gearing smirks and waves at his equipment. “Where’d all that come from then?”

Tix pulls the jacket back, revealing a bit more of his equipment consisting of old beat up armor that’s a combination of leather along with piecemealed police and military light armors. “I talked with Bottlecap for a while. And she didn’t really like most of what I had to say.”

Gearing frowns as he narrows his eyes at him. “You didn’t say anything you shouldn’t have to fuck us up, did you?”

Tix waves it off and actually gives Gearing a grin, but of the near manic kind. “Oh, no. Not at all… She wasn’t happy with the update on how the slaves have been getting treated. With what had been happening. And how they are accelerating their plans. So she said she’d give me an advance on my salary, in the form of equipment. But, she made it clear, that since you vouched for me, if I run off with it, she’ll bring it to your attention and then I’ll have to deal with you.”

Gearing grins at him and shrugs. “Well… don’t run off with the shit and you won’t have to deal with me dealing with you, right?”

Tix smirks as he says, “That’s basically what she said too… but it was unnecessary… This is a golden opportunity for me.”

Gearing smiles at him as he says, “I know it is… And we just need to buck on a few more of the doors and we’ll have the key to success. We just have to sniff them out.” He turns his head to the side as his ear twitches. “Speaking of sniffing out the right door…”

A few moments later, Magnolia walks to the doorway and slowly peeks around the door frame. After looking around quickly, she zips into the room, and looks around for any other exits, which there aren’t any, before she looks over at Gearing. But, just as quickly, her eyes jump over to the young buck standing in front of Gearing and her eyes narrow.

Gearing stands up and turns around as he steps to the side. “Tix… this is Magnolia… she’s been helping me get information. And, honestly, you have her to thank for you being here today.”

Magnolia’s eyes go wide for a moment as she stares at Gearing, then her eyes trail over to Tix. Tix, gives her a deep respectful bow before standing up and giving her a beaming smile. The first Gearing’s seen him do since meeting the buck.

Magnolia waves a hoof at him as she looks at Gearing. “He one of the ones you got away from that bitch Usury?”

“Worse,” Tix says as he scowls, and earns a questioning glare from Magnolia.

Gearing’s smile turns mischievous as he says, “He’s one of the ones I stole right out from under the nose of Red Eye...”

Magnolia’s eyes go wide before she looks at Tix. And then a warm smile spreads across her lips before she says quietly, “I’m glad I could help you, then…”

Tix takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a snort before he says, “Not as half as glad as I am, I can guarantee you that.”

Magnolia chuckles a bit before she nods. “I bet.” She looks over at Gearing and smiles as she waves a hoof at Tix. “I take it he’s the new friend for the cause you were telling me about?”

Gearing nods as he sits down and looks at her. “Yeah. I got him implanted in with the Finders. Bottlecap doesn’t actually know what we’re up to. And I want to keep it that way.”

Magnolia narrows her eyes as she asks, “Why? She seemed supportive enough? Isn’t she the one who told you about my problem?”

Gearing shakes his head. “She told me nothing… She just made it so we would meet and let us figure it out.” He looks back and forth as he taps on the ground. “I’ve done some digging, and her and her sisters have this fucked up kind of truce going on-”

Magnolia waves it away as she interrupts, “Not much digging needed for that, it’s common knowledge.”

Gearing looks at her and narrows his eyes. “Yeah, but, I’m not from around here. And as much as a dirty ‘worst kept secret’ as it is, there’s obviously plans from at least one of the other two to fuck Bottlecap and Megamart over. I don’t have anything on her drug pushing sister-”

“Caprice,” Magnolia adds as she pulls out a canteen and takes a small sip.

Gearing points at and nods his thanks to her. “Caprice, right. So, anyway, she might peddle flesh, but not of the bomb collar kind. I’ll stay out of the morality arguments for that. But I still have my eye on them because of the obvious blatant greed… and, speaking of greed, the greediest of them-”

“Usury,” Magnolia comments with a dripping venom in her voice.

“Yeah, that bitch. Well, I don’t need to tell you, how dirty she is,” Gearing comments as he narrows his eyes. He looks over at Tix as he comments, “She’s doing dirty shit and breaking the truce between them by letting her fuckers target Bottlecap’s caravans and caravaneers… She just quickly gets them out of the area before anyone figures out who really did it.”

Tix nods as he grits his teeth. “Yeah, bastard’s efficient that way.”

“And from what we’ve been able to piece together so far, the ones actually doing it aren’t officially Paradise slavers… Fucking technicalities,” Gearing adds.

Magnolia looks between them before she asks, “I mean, old news to me. But where does that leave us and our new friend here?”

Gearing waves over at Tix as he says, “I don’t trust all of the caravanneers. Some of the shit I’ve been hearing is a bit too convenient. I want to know who’s dirty. If anyone. And with how things are going, I want you both making lists of anyone you’ve seen talking to Usury’s goons, and especially if you’ve ever seen any of them actually at Paradise.” He nods a few times as he thinks it over. “I don’t think there’s many. It’d only really take one well placed one. But, after we figure out the ‘who’s’, we deal with the problem. Or, should I say, I deal with the problem while you’re somewhere visible and not related.”

Tix spits off to the side as his eyes switch more to the same wild-eyed nearly feral look they had earlier in the day. “Why can’t I just fucking gut them. They deserve it. Should just chop’em into tiny pieces and mail them back to Usury! Why I oughta-”

Gearing jumps over, grabs Tix by the throat with a hoof, lifts him up, and shoves him into the wall as he stands up with him and gets face to face with him. “No! Stop that bullshit!”

The buck struggles, with his legs flailing around a bit, but not really fighting Gearing as he snarls back at Gearing and does in fact seem to go a bit feral for a few moments.

Gearing chokes harder and leans in as he snarls right back. “I get your anger. You have every right to every drop of blood you want. But. Not. Now!” He puts a hoof in Tix's face as he leans in and snarls. “I’m not going to let you fuck this up. I’ve already sacrificed too much for this. If you fuck this up, I swear to every god I’ll fucking end you!” He actually slaps Tix a couple times with his wing, enough to draw blood from Tix’s lip. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re not ghoul shit right now is because of that bomb collar I found on your neck!” He shakes him a bit by the throat as he says, “I get that you didn’t have a choice for what you’d done. And I get how that’s eating you up inside… But you’re going to hold yourself in check!” He slaps him again. “I might have been the one that took off your collar, but I own your ass until this is all over. Remember that!” He shakes him a bit more. “That was the agreement for your hide, and this is your chance to wash off some of the blood from your hooves. But if you fuck this up, after everything, I swear I’ll come up with something that’ll make that fat fuck Pancake actually pity you and think he got the better end of the deal, you understand me?!”

Tix snorts a few times then closes his eyes as he manually tries to steady his breathing. Which is helped as Gearing slowly eases off of the hold. Tix nods and keeps his eyes closed as he just keeps nodding. Gearing eases them both down, and Tix sits down as he focuses on his breathing.

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “You going to get with the program?”

Tix nods slowly.

“You’re not going to make me regret this, are you?”

Tix shakes his head.

Gearing reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. “I know it’s going to be hard, but keep it bottled up. And don’t let it out. Not yet.” He leans down and says quieter. “But, I promise, it’ll be far more satisfying when you can pop the cork on that right in the face of those who deserve it most…”

Tix slowly looks up, his eyes still a bit wild, as he asks, “What about on the road?”

Gearing frowns, “You can’t just kill them all on sight, no matter what. Not yet… We’re trying not to drag Bottlecap and the Finders into a faction war…”

“What… what if they attack us first? Or try to capture the caravaneers?”

Gearing grins widely and steps back as he says, “Well… you’re a guard for the caravan… your job is to protect them… so… protect them…” He tilts his head and his own eyes look a bit maniacal as he says quieter, “And feel free to pop your cork all over the bastards in the process.”

Magnolia had been sitting off to the side, casually watching the entire exchange with a nearly disinterested expression. But at that last bit Magnolia spits out the sip of water she had tried to drink. She coughs and wipes her muzzle a few times as she laughs. She points the canteen at Gearing as she says, “Bastard, you waited until I was drinking before you said some shit like that!” She puts the lid back on and stows it before she says, “I get the metaphor, but it sounds like you’re telling him to plough the whole lot and bust more than a cap in their ass…”

Tix barely looks at her before looking back at Gearing. “So… they start shit… I can do whatever?”

Gearing lets out a sigh before waving a hoof around. “Try not to do anything that’ll make the merchants think you’re some kinda ponicidal serial killer… but, yeah, sure…”

Tix’s muzzle splits into a bloody grin as he asks, “But… we need information, right? So… So that’s a fair cop, right?”

Gearing reaches over and ruffles the young buck’s mane. “Why you sneaky rule-lawyering little gus! Nice cover!” To Tix’s massive grin, Gearing points a pinion at his nose and says, “But make sure to actually ask questions… Don’t forget that part… And try to keep the messy side of things from the others. Squeamish ponies aren’t always the most cooperative...”

Tix loosens up, and his eyes seem to sparkle with just a bit more life as the wildness in them seems to be controlled more, at least for now. “I can handle that.”

“Good.”

“Well, if we’re getting to take on personal requests…” Magnolia comments as she sits down. After she gets comfortable she looks up at Gearing and asks, “I got something I’d like to throw my hat into the ring for consideration… And waaaay more specific than what he’s asking…” Gearing motions for her to continue, and she snarls as she asks, “The fuckers responsible for my family?”

Gearing looks towards her and lets out a sigh before he says, “They’re already on the list. Anyone a part of the system is fair game as far as I’m concerned.” He looks over at Tix, then says quickly, “Anyone willingly a part of it, I mean.” And Tix gives him just the faintest hint of a smile before dipping his head in appreciation.

“That’s all well and good, but what about these particular home wrecking fuckers?” Magnolia asks as she tilts her head.

Gearing looks at her and narrows his eyes before he says, “You said you’d give me anything. Hell, you even promised me your life.” He waves a hoof between the two of them. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both in the same boat. I own your asses until this shit is over.” He looks them in the eye one at a time before he ends. “At least this way I know I can trust you. You both have some deeply cut skin in the game. You both have heavy sacks of personal interest in seeing this through to the end. Once it’s over, that’s it, we’ll go our separate ways. But I want that bitch out of business. Personal shit’s all fine and well, as long as it doesn’t fuck with our ultimate goals.”

“Couldn’t you just kill that bitch?” Tix asks as he frowns.

Gearing looks at him and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah I could. I was in a position to do it too. Hell I had her alone in a room while I was fully armed, not that I needed it… Just like I was with the Caesar during the war. But, I know how this shit works. Sometimes what you’re dealing with is a snake, and cutting the head off will kill it… Other times, it’s not a snake, it’s a fucking hydra… and all you’re doing is giving it more heads… more hungry mouths to feed…” He looks at Magnolia and nods towards her. “You know it. You’ve heard of it. You’ve seen enough to realize the problem.”

Magnolia seems to deflate as she nods. “Yeah. She might be the leader. But there’s enough fuckers there with enough pull that if she gets offed, someone else will just take her place. Or, more likely, factions will develop around one fuckwad or another and then they’ll all get far more aggressive, and far worse, as they fight not only each other for territory but go after anypony and everypony they can get their hooves on…”

Gearing nods before he looks over at Tix. “The agreement might be bullshit… but if Usury suddenly dies, so does even the appearance of an agreement. You think the slavers are bad now? It’ll be open season. The factions won’t give a shit and will snag anyone and everyone they can. And merchants, slowed down with supplies, will be prime targets… Supplies to keep going, and new ‘goods’ to sell… and that shit will have widespread consequences because trade will outright stop…” He shakes his head. “No, we have to do sufficient damage to the whole enterprise that the beast itself dies…” He waves a hoof around as he says quieter, “Think of it as trying to use an auto laser on a Hydra… we gotta tag it enough and get lucky enough that a cascade takes place and ashes the whole damn thing to avoid it just regenerating.”

Magnolia lets out a sigh. She sniffles a bit, and fights herself, before she asks, without even looking at him, “What… what if we find out who did it? Couldn’t they, like, give us information?”

Gearing looks over at her and she looks up at him after a few moments of silence. “Aw, c’mon, the bullshit excuse works for him, why not me!?” She flicks a hoof towards Tix as she keeps staring at Gearing.

Gearing smirks and replies softly, “We find the fuckers… I have no problem with nabbing them, and getting all of the information we can out of them.” He leans towards her and adds with a grin. “Using whatever methods we have to.”

She slowly starts straightening up, as she looks at Gearing as her emotions are in turmoil but this twisted bit of intention actually sparks a fragment of hope in her. “So… let's say… I find the fuckers that actually nabbed my husband and kid… You saying you’re going to help me deal with them?”

“No, Magnolia,” Gearing replies and causes her to flinch. Especially since he pointedly used her full name. “I’m saying, you keep helping me deal with this trash, then I’ll do it for you. In whatever way you want. You want’em snatched, gift wrapped, and trussed up like a Hearth’s Warming decoration? You got it. You want me to give them a piece of your mind at a thousand yards? You got it. You want me to give them a crash course flying lesson by dropping them from altitude, you guessed it, you got it.” He shakes his head. “Once they’re useless for anything further, they’re all yours.”

Magnolia nods as she smiles a bit. She looks down, then wipes the tears that had fallen from her eyes silently. “Thanks… I- I don’t know what I’ll need done at the time… except them dealt with… but, if you’ll work with me on it, I’d appreciate it…”

Gearing walks over and gently rubs her shoulders. “We’ll get justice for your husband and son, I promise you that.”

Magnolia snorts a laugh as she wipes a few more tears away, along with some developing snot from her nose. “‘Justice’? Fuck ‘justice’, at this point I’d just love me some old fashioned revenge!”

Gearing smirks as he shrugs. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive…”

Magnolia grabs her canteen, and takes a deep pull after she scoffs at him. She snorts and coughs a bit as she looks at the canteen and frowns. “Fuck. I forgot… water…” She stows the canteen as she mutters, “Hell of a time to quit drinking…”

Tix looks at her and lets out a slow sigh before he shakes his head and looks at Gearing. “So, what’s the plan, exactly?”

“At this stage?” Gearing asks. Getting a nod from Tix, Gearing waves around aimlessly with a forehoof. “I need you two to snoop around and find out more information. I don’t think all of the caravanneers are being as forthright with information as what I’d like them to be.” He motions over to Magnolia. “I’m not saying they’re all dirty, but I’m sure at least a few are under the mistaken impression that they’re safe, and the safety will only last as long as they keep their mouth shut-”

“Spoiler alert, it won’t,” Magnolia chimes in bitterly.

Gearing nods and looks at Tix. “I need names, locations, pathways. Even rumors. Caravans going missing? Someone not showing up for work? Anything like that. Anything that might be useful.”

“That it?” Tix asks.

Gearing shakes his head. Then a smile appears across his muzzle before he sits primly. “In fact, no, it’s not.” He looks back and forth between them and says, “I want you two to start spreading a rumor… Don’t be obvious about it. But work it in when you can. But, try and be consistent with how you’re telling where you heard it from… Vague enough that it sounds like the rumor mill is already in full swing, but consistent enough that no one thinks you’re just making it up… like… a guard from another caravan told you over drinks or something…”

“What rumor?” Magnolia asks as she leans closer and gets the feeling this is going to be more important than she might otherwise think for a ‘rumor’.

Gearing looks between them and grins even wider. “Spread the rumor that Usury is expanding her operation more, is increasing her influence, and is not only growing her crew but her need for stock as well.”

Tix snorts as he looks off to the side. “Shitty ‘rumor’… it’s fact…”

Gearing looks over at him before adding, “Yeah… but add in the reason why is because she’s getting ready to tell Red Eye to take a hike. Because she’s got better paying customers elsewhere and Red Eye is just dragging her down at this point. Tell them you were warned to stay away from the whole area, because Usury’s crew have already been attacking Red Eye’s soldiers and no one wants to be in the crossfire…”

Magnolia starts coughing as she chokes on her own spit.

Tix stares in stunned silence for a bit before he says quietly, “That’s suicide…”

Magnolia nods and points at Tix as she hacks and coughs. But after clearing her windpipe she adds, “That’s too crazy, nopony’ll believe it.”

Gearing grins at them and says, “We don’t need everyone to believe it… just getting the rumor to spread will be enough.”

“But why though?” Magnolia asks as she looks around and can’t see a point in this.

Tix stares at Gearing for a few moments before his mouth drops open in realization. “Red Eye… you want it to get back to Red Eye!”

Gearing looks at him and gives him a wide grin. He looks back at Magnolia and points at Tix with a hoof before he says, “And the clever pony gets the prize.”

Tix’s eyes slowly drift to the ground as his mind races. “Oh, that’s… wow… I mean… Wow…” He looks up at the other two. “He’s not going to like that. Hell. Even if it doesn’t get up that high, there’s plenty of fanatics at the lower tiers that’d want blood just from the rumor alone, whether it was true or not…” He rocks his head side to side a bit as he says, “I don’t know if it’d be enough to fool Red Eye himself, but others? There’s a definite possibility… Especially if they’re of the sort bucking for promotion or whatever… Like that fat fuck Flapjacks…”

Gearing nods at him, then turns back to look at Magnolia. “See?”

Magnolia looks around before she asks, “So your ultimate plan is to trick Red Eye into helping you take them out?”

Gearing grins and waves a pinion as he tuts her. “Not actually… but, we’re too early into the game to bring up the rest of it for now.”

Magnolia smirks as she asks, “What? Don’t trust us? Even owning our ass?”

Gearing looks at her and says flatly, “The plan is changing fluidly based on how things develop. I’ve been sowing and harvesting where I can when the time is appropriate. But, no, I don’t want to monologue out a long plan to you… Only for even one of you to be captured and them finding out everything after mind raping you into a vegetative state.” He looks back and forth between them before he says, “Keep this in mind… This is the kind of shit I played with during the war… Compartmentalization is the name of the game. Otherwise, I could probably pay enough folks to just raid them… But it only takes one turncoat to fuck over a whole organization. One individual in the right position is all it takes. And, speaking from experience as someone who was that single individual that fucked everything over for others, on numerous occasions, trust me. This is the way to go.”

Magnolia waves a hoof at him as she asks, “Yeah, but, what if you’re the one that gets caught and mind fucked like a cheap whore?”

Gearing frowns as he looks between them. He shrugs. “None of you were planning anything substantial before. I don’t see that changing. So, yeah, if I get captured or die, the plan’s dead and the areas just back to where it was before I got here…”

Magnolia narrows her eyes before she says, “You die, and I’m back to drinkn’, and I won’t be held responsible for what happens after that…”

Gearing laughs then starts shaking imaginary pom poms with his forehooves. “Sure, go for it. I’ll be rooting you on from hell…”

Magnolia grins as she looks him over. She wipes another leftover errant tear away from her muzzle before she asks, “Anything else, or is this shindig over? So I can get back to sniffing out fuckers for you to wax.”

Gearing shakes his head. “No. That’s about it. I mainly wanted you two to get to know each other. But, I’d like you two to not pal around too… But, don’t go out of your way to avoid each other either. If your paths naturally cross, great, but don’t go out of your way to seek each other out. You guys know how to let me know when you have something to tell me, and we’ll go from there.” He looks back and forth as he asks, “Sound good?”

Tix gets up and wipes the blood from his chin as he nods. “Yeah, boss. Sounds good. The sooner we can get to gutting that bitch’s operations the better.”

Magnolia points over towards Tix. “What he said.”

Gearing nods and leads the way out into the hallway. “Great. I’ll see you all later. But, don’t take any unnecessary risks. It’s hard to find folks I can trust with this. And I need all of the help I can get to see it through as it is. I have another meeting to get to before morning. So I’ll head out now.”

Magnolia grins as she asks, “Oh? Got another secret meeting to get to? Maybe another friend to meet soon?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I don’t know. I hope so. But I’m not betting on it. All I know is that she has information for me. And whatever it is is something she didn’t feel comfortable with telling me inside of Megamart… I’ll let you two know if it’s anything relevant.”

They wave and Gearing takes off, back upstairs, and out a window, as Magnolia takes the same route out she’d come in through and leaves Tix behind to leave on his own recognizance.

As Gearing is flying just barely over the buildings, he double checks with his PipBuck. “Hmm, a bit ahead of schedule, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

‘Got some time to kill,’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head agrees.

“Not enough to really do anything. And I don’t want to start anything because it might interfere with this meeting…” Gearing mutters to himself as he zips in between two buildings and startles a couple of scraggly looking birds who had been roosting along the edge of a crumbling wall.

Gearing gets to the building in question, and circles around it as he double checks with the information he had been given. But, instead of going in one of the other ways, he simply lands on the roof. He gently touches down, and tests its ability to handle any pressure before completely trusting it to his weight. There are a few holes in the roof here and there exposing the ancient steel framework underneath. But, at least with his weight assist implant functioning, he doesn’t feel too worried about it as it seems at least sturdy enough to support his current weight.

He walks over towards where an old billboard sign used to be on the roof, but now half of the board is entirely missing and the rest of it is not much more than faded pictures supported by metal framework. Even so, he recognizes the billboard, despite what little is displayed, because these Sparkle Cola ads were so ubiquitous over all of Equestria that guessing which one it was by a small fragment was actually pretty common. He sits down behind the billboard and looks around as he tries to think of what he should be doing at the moment while he waits.

“What now…”

Footnote:

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

!!!ERROR!!! Synchronization Failed…

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

89 Path of Least Resistance

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing, wearing his custom flight suit made for his small frame but under none of the enchantments they’ve been working on to cover up his brassy nature, sits in the middle of one of Stormfront’s maintenance bay slots. One where a wagon would normally be parked. Instead he’s taken over the entire slot, and converted it into an equipment repair assembly line. At first it was just a compromise to keep him busy, but it’s rapidly grown to be far more than that. It’s a full blown workshop in and of itself. And anything that he might need that’s not actually in the bay, or in the racks he’s built around it, he can simply walk over to one of the base’s equipment and use that. Though that’d take some supervision and added permissions to do so.

But here, in his workshop, he can do what he wishes for the most part. He has a variety of pieces -weapons, armor, mechanical components to other war machines- all laid out in various stages of work along the surfaces of the improvised tables that he has taking up most of the floor space of the maintenance bay slot.

The unit as a whole has taken advantage of Gearing’s abilities and specific situation by having him simultaneously fix things, while learning how to fix others. He works on one piece, as much as he can, then sets it aside for inspection and further instructions from either Hammer or Static as he starts or picks up working on the next piece. A one pony disassembly and reassembly line with enough supervisors and oversight to make even the analest of bureaucrats happy.

Which has been such a valuable boon to the team that they’ve caught up on repairs enough that they can easily afford to sacrifice an entire bay to Gearing’s whims, as, for once, not even half of their bays are full of equipment in need of repairs. Even more so since Hammer and Static can focus on the bigger problems, and leave the tedium, even as much of it as there is, to Gearing.

As Gearing is taking apart a massive beam rifle, and Hammer walks down his long line of tables making notes on the provided papers as needed, Snake and Mouse sit playing checkers in front of the bay watching Tower work out by lifting some of the heavier boxes. They share a large glass of lemonade, by flash turning into a female griffon and a tan mare earth pony respectively, as they shamelessly enjoy the view of the sweaty muscly earth pony going about his training regimen.

Cross walks in through the main door to the central chamber and curves around towards the maintenance bay slot that has become the squad’s de facto hangout spot while not on duty. As she’s getting closer to the bay, Tower yells out, “Hey, Cross! Wanna lend me a hoof and jump on my back to add some more weight?”

Cross looks at him with an arched eyebrow before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “No.”

Mouse looks at Snake and asks, “Would it be poor form if I volunteered to take her place?”

Cross, Hammer, and Snake say, in unison, “Yes, yes it would.”

Mouse raises their forehooves up and to the side as they grin and don’t take their eyes off the rippling muscles of the buck. “Can’t blame a gal for tryin’…”

Cross’s phantasmal telekinetic folded paper appears and swats Mouse on the top of the head as she says, “Don’t go causing problems, Mouse.”

Tower looks over at her and grins widely as he asks, “Awww, you don’t need to get jealous. I already offered you.” He straightens up and then starts flexing his chest, foreleg, and shoulder muscles as he says, “Any time you want,” and then gives her a wink.

A wink that draws another eye roll from Cross, and an even wider grin from Mouse as they obviously think about it themselves.

Hammer waves a hoof as she says, “Tower, I don’t know why you bother trying.”

Tower straightens up and flexes his biceps as he bellows a hearty laugh. “Because muscles like these are hard to contain!” He flexes some more in a variety of poses as he looks at Cross. “It’s okay, you can touch them…” He winks at her and says in a lower tone. “Allll you waaaant.”

Mouse stretches far over, their eyes going wide with excitement as their grin becomes massive. Just before their hoof lands on the muscles on the side of Tower’s chest, the phantasmal paper reappears and swats the hoof away, then starts swatting Mouse until they recoil back towards the checkers board with Snake. Cross glares at Mouse and says, “We just said it’d be poor form… Knock it off.”

Mouse points at Tower with both forehooves and moans out in a soft sad tone of practical lust, “But look at those beauties! They're just begging for a good petting!” They look over at Cross and grin as they partially close their eyes and swish their flank as they say, “I know I am too…”

Mouse gets a few more swats from Cross for their trouble, but doesn’t really care as they’re apparently already lost in another fantasy.

Tower chuckles as he says, “How could you possibly say ‘no’ to these muscles though?”

Cross rolls her eyes as she waves it away dismissively. “That would not be appropriate considering you are my direct subordinate.”

“And then there’s the other problem,” Gearing comments as he finally gets the beam rifle in half and starts comparing it’s internal circuitry to a diagram he has spread out on the table under it.

Mouse looks over at him and asks with their soft sweet voice, “What other problem?”

Gearing shrugs as he says flatly, “He’s not her type, it’s pretty obvious.”

They all stare at him and the sudden lull in conversation makes him look up at them from the weapon he’s working on, and that’s when he sees the completely horrified look on Tower’s face. After looking them all over, Gearing continues, “Tower’s body type is of the ‘big muscular’ variety. The ‘big and brawny’ archetype. The strong buck that takes up a lot of space and can be intimidating for others to even look at. While, genetically, some are drawn to that for the hope, on some level, that their children would inherit such a body, and the perceived notion of health that that comes with, not everyone is.” He points a hoof over to Cross as he shakes his head. “Cross is one that that just doesn’t strike her fancy… so… that’s why she doesn’t seem interested… because she’s not!”

Cross stares at him coolly with a raised eyebrow as she starts calculating just what this little pegasus is up to with this stunt.

Hammer leans over towards Gearing and asks, “Well, what is her type then?” Cross shoots her a dirty look and Hammer giggles as she says, “Sorry, not sorry! This is getting juicy!”

Gearing waves a hoof around dismissively as he goes back to the beam rifle under his snoot. “Given Cross’s penchants and mentality? I’d say her type is almost the exact opposite of Tower… He’s the big burly earth pony type. Not an idiot by any means, but probably, from a visual side of things at least, probably strikes the same chord… sooo. “He scratches his chin a bit as he looks up at the support structure above him that he’s converted into extra storage for materials before looking down at the Beam rifle again.

“So, from what I’ve seen… I’d say her type is a buck more on the petite side. Probably with a smaller frame than her? Maybe even younger at that? Not that she has a dominance issue, that’s just what she enjoys… Aaaand given how she is around learning and such, but lacking a superiority complex and the need to be validated by keeping someone under her that that would bring, I’d believe she’s looking for a mate that is rather intelligent as well. Maybe even the soft spoken sweet type? Since she’s serious when she needs to be, but otherwise likes to enjoy herself, and would want a mate to fall in line with those kinds of desires that is.” He nods his head as he continues taking the rifle apart according to the diagram. “Yeah, that’d make sense… and, if we’re going by opposites… probably would also need to be a flier… Which would be reinforced by her consistent desire for things she doesn’t get to enjoy often herself…” He carefully removes the beam rifle’s focusing assembly as he says, “So a highly intelligent, small framed, fun loving, young buck, that can fly…”

Everyone stares at him as he continues working.

Tower narrows his eyes as he asks, “Did you just intentionally describe yourself?”

Gearing looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Hammer nods as she giggles then says, “Yeah, Nitro… you just completely described yourself.”

Gearing looks over at her and blinks a few times as he asks, “… No I didn’t?”

Mouse snickers with a hoof demurely covering their muzzle before they ask, “So, Cross, you have the hots for our little technician in training, huh?”

Cross rolls her eyes as she walks into the bay, shakes her head, and scrunches her muzzle to the side. “What? Ew, no! He’s like my little brother! That’d be too weird!” She rolls her eyes and looks over at Mouse. “He’s just been spending too much time in the psychology and life sciences sections of the library… Trying to psychoanalyze, and just getting it plain wrong.”

Gearing looks over at Mouse as he says, “I wasn’t talking about myself though.”

They all look at him as they uniformly arch an eyebrow. Eventually Tower shakes his head and asks, with a smirk, “Then who were you talking about?”

Gearing looks at each one in turn, then stares Cross in the eyes as he says flatly, “Skip.”

Instantly Cross’s eyes jump wide and her raven black fur around her face starts glowing a rosy color as she stares at him in disbelief.

A puff of black smoke appears and Skip practically unfolds from the support structure above them as he hangs from his tail, upside down, and comes face to face with Cross, merely inches from each other as he stares into her eyes. He lets out a couple quick squeaks as the grin on his muzzle grows massive across his face. The close proximity doesn’t help the situation as Cross’s purple eyes slowly shrink to pinpricks the longer they maintain such close, intense, eye contact.

Gearing nods as his ear twitches. “Yeah, really, she’s got the hots for you. Bad.”

Cross’s midnight blue tail and mane frazzle out and jump in a variety of directions as her jaw practically falls to the floor, and the faint blush on her cheeks violently explodes across her entire body as her raven black coat suddenly starts looking almost maroon.

Skip taps on the button on his suit as he starts slowly leaning towards Cross and he asks in his soft musical voice, “Oh, really now? You know all you had to do was say something… Right, Cross?”

She sputters and her eyes dampen as she seems like she’s almost on the verge of tears as the blushing heat just gets worse by the second. Finally her horn flares up, creating the phantasmal folded paper as she screams, “Oh my gods, shut up!” And she swings the glowing magical construct at Skip. But he pops away with a giggle before it connects. Cross looks around quickly, to see if Skip was going to try to come in from a different angle, before she focuses her attention on Gearing. “What the hell, Nitro!? Throwing me under the wagon like that?!” She starts swatting him on the top of the head, rapidly, and with increasing speed, as she yells, “This is what I get for letting you read all of those psychology books! Oh my gods! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Gearing partially closes his eyes as he’s repeatedly swatted on the top of the head, and his mane repeatedly goes from getting smashed flat against his head, to literally springing back up the moment the pressure is released. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

Hammer snickers as she puts a hoof over her muzzle. “Yeah… really… I mean I figured that bit out a while ago.” For her comment the paper swings back and forth like an upside down pendulum, smacking both Gearing and Hammer on the top of the head in turn as Cross can’t seem to do much more than moan in despair.

Mouse looks at Snake and motions towards Cross as they say, “Ya know, I bet that’s who Hammer was talking about when she said she wouldn’t poach from friends.”

Snake nods a few times, then grabs a checker piece and jumps a few pieces as she grins. “King me.”

Gearing slowly looks over at Hammer, while still getting swatted, and says in a soft tone, “I’ll never understand mares.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing stretches out a bit as he groans about being bored and wishing he has something to do besides reminisce and think.

‘We got over twenty minutes, easy, even with us taking our time to get here…’ the little pegasus in his head comments.

“Yeah… I shoulda brought some stuff to work on…” he mumbles.

‘Well, you know, there’s always that…’

“You mean?”

‘Why not?’

“…”

‘Come on… it’s been a while… A lot of shit has happened… You haven’t listened to it since we woke up on this side of hell…’

Do I even deserve to though? Why should I get to feel better when my fuck ups helped cause all of this? Gearing mentally challenges.

‘Because you kept it around for exactly times like this. The number of crimes committed in order to get it would make it hard for even Dash to get us out of the trouble if anyone found out…’

Gearing smirks at the thought. Yeah… was pretty stupid to do…

‘Worth it though…’

Gearing slowly looks down at his PipBuck and gently caresses the device. “Yeah… it was…”

The little pegasus flies around his head a few times before hovering over his PipBuck. ‘What are you waiting for though?’

Gearing gently rubs the PipBuck a bit before he says quietly, “I’m scared.”

‘About what? Come on, it’s not like going into an orb or something. What’s to worry about?’

Gearing looks up at the cloudy night sky high above and lets out a sigh. “What if it’s not there?”

The little pegasus stops flying mid air and slowly sinks down as it asks, ‘Wha?’

Gearing looks at the PipBuck and mindlessly flips through the buttons. “I haven’t checked. Not since we woke up… The shits been fucked up, remember?” He shakes his head. “I’ve lost access to a lot of stuff, and things have gotten scrambled and encrypted… I haven’t checked because what if something happened to it, and it’s just gone now?”

The little pegasus jumps up and flails its legs around. ‘Then we’re building a time machine, going back, and bucking the fuck out of everyone just to make sure we got the right fucker!’ He zips over and starts smacking the PipBuck. ‘Hurry up! Check it! We gotta make sure it’s there or by Discord I’m murdering somepony!’

Gearing lets out a sigh and slowly starts actively using the controls on his PipBuck. He goes deep into the system, then subsystems, then goes into a couple hidden folders that won’t come up unless he does some very specific things. After diving down into a trove of random subfolders he comes across a familiarly named subfolder, and smirks as he says, “Okay… if it’s still here… it’s in here.”

‘Hurry up and open it, you ass!’

Gearing hesitates for a moment as he hopes nothing is corrupted. And then he goes ahead and opens the folder.

There’s a delay as the screen wipes clear, preparing to show the contents of the folder. But, then it hangs, and only shows the upper headings at the top of the screen, and nothing else.

‘Somepony’s gonna die…’ the little pegasus says as he lands on Gearing’s shoulders and starts leaning in to look at the screen with an ever elongating neck.

The PipBuck makes its typical noise of going through a folder, then starts displaying all of the files that are contained in the hidden folder. And, after it’s done populating the list, the little pegasus on his shoulder points at it quickly. ‘Scroll down. All the way down. Fifth one from the bottom.’

“I know, I know,” Gearing mutters as he quickly scrolls down the lengthy list. Various nonsensical names scroll by as he quickly zips to the bottom. Then, once at the bottom, he scrolls up just a bit.

Mixed among the other nonsensical file names, is the one he’s looking for. Its name is just as ridiculous as all of the others around it. But, he knows exactly what he’s looking for. He’s played the file more than enough times to have completely memorized every single character that makes up the name.

‘Play it!’ The little pegasus in Gearing’s head demands.

Gearing slowly pulls out the earbuds from their spot in the PipBuck, and puts them in his ears. He makes sure the connection is good then, after it’s all ready, he looks up and says a little request to the stars above that he can’t even see right now.

Then he hits play.

Instantly the beginnings of an old recording begin playing and it just as instantly makes him flinch. His breath catches. He slowly sinks down onto the roof, using the old metal framework of the billboard as a pillow as he listens to the recording play.

The little pegasus rolls off his shoulder, onto the roof, and spins around as it stares at the PipBuck. He lazily swishes his tail back and forth as it plays. And, for the two of them, the rest of the world fades from existence. He knows the recording by heart. Every syllable. Every tonal change. But hearing it again, this side of the end of the world, strikes deep into him in a place that he really needs it to. It’s not a very long recording. But while he’s listening to it, time seems to get funky almost like SATS itself has gone haywire. But, in short order, the recording completes. And he’s left in silence again.

He stares at the PipBuck file, and cradles his PipBuck to himself. “It still works…”

‘We hadn’t lost everything yet,’ the little pegasus comments from the roof.

“Almost, but not quite…” Gearing responds.

‘Hey, uh… I know we set up a rule before… about… that… but… you know, it’s been a while, and you really need it, soooo.’

Gearing smirks as he looks at the file. “Fuck it, rules were meant to be broken.” He quickly flips the control and has the audio recording play again.

And again.

And again.

After a little while of getting lost in the recording, the little pegasus hops over and gets in between Gearing and the controls. ‘That’s enough.’

Gearing scowls at the little pegasus and snarls. “What the hell you talking about?!”

‘We got things to do. We can’t just keep listening to it,’ the little pegasus evenly responds.

“More business before pleasure shit? Haven’t I given enough to that shit?”

The little pegasus lands on the PipBuck and looks up at him. ‘We know it’s here. We know it’s functioning still. We can listen to it whenever we want. But, we don’t want to overdo it either, do we?’

Gearing closes his eyes and lets out a disgusted snort of air. “No… we don’t” And with his eyes still closed, he keeps backing out repeatedly. When he finally opens his eyes, he’s already at the top level, and, on some level, is glad that he can’t see the file anymore. Because that would just make it that much harder for his willpower.

Gearing looks at his PipBuck, and closes the screen. As he’s still looking down at the decaying roof of the building he’s on he mutters, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost that… I never even considered it before…”

The little pegasus flutters around as he says, ‘Well. We’re going to encrypt it, again, and we’re going to stash a few copies around. Never know when a lucky shot will destroy the PipBuck.’

“They aren’t that fragile. It’d take quite a bit to do so,” Gearing replies with a smirk.

‘Yeah, but it is possible… and we can’t afford to lose this file…’ the little pegasus retorts.

“No, you’re right,” Gearing responds with finality in his voice. “Multiple backups. Multiple Formats. Multiple locations. Redundancy over security.”

The little pegasus nods off to the side. ‘Come on, Champ. Let's go see what this mare wants and then we can get back to Handy and Swift and get ready for the morning trip.’

“Actually, after this, I have one more meeting I need to work in,” Gearing replies as he gets up and starts walking along the metal framework of the building.

The little pegasus slaps a hoof over his face. ‘Another meeting?! What is this, Ministry of Image funded or something?!’

“Nah, I prefer useful lies instead of blind allegiance…”

He finds a spot where something had fallen and did enough damage that the roof actually caved in in a small part, making a half assed crumbling ramp down to the top floor. Gearing double checks his EFS before heading downstairs from the top floor. He starts clearing the building, going room by room, and floor by floor, as he makes his way to the very bottom. It’s a four story apartment complex of sorts, but the place has long since been looted of anything of use or value. And the building is only questionably intact at best, so inhabitation would be a problem without serious structural repairs.

Regardless, Gearing manages to clear up a good portion of his EFS by killing the various oversized over-ambitious insects that have called the place home. His extermination is so thorough that the one that had been clinging to the side of the buildings, on the outside, just to the side of a window that had been broken out long ago, is also sent on to its next life by a brass hoof.

Afterwards he heads back up to the third floor and waits.

Shortly after he gets into position, and actually a bit before their meeting was supposed to take place, Gearing notices a blue bar running in his direction. He keeps his eyes on the marker as it quickly makes it up to the building, then slowly enters. He sits there with his head focused on where he’s pretty sure they are as they start climbing up through the building. Before they even get to the second floor, Gearing’s already pinpointed their hoof falls. And then he continues tracking them as they walk up the stairwell. Their progress is slow, but steady. And they seem to be checking everywhere on the way up. Which, Gearing notes, is a sign of someone who's been around long enough to know how to keep an eye out for trouble.

But, as a bit of fun, Gearing decides to play a little bit of hide and seek.

By the time the orange mare in the caravanner outfit makes it to the third floor, Gearing’s already gotten in position, and completely out of sight, as he practices what he’d learned so long ago.

She slowly steps one hoof at a time as she goes down the hall, clearing one room after another. She has a respectable revolver floating in front of her as she checks each room. And after checking the entire floor, and finding no one, she goes into a room in the center of the building and away from the windows. “Huh. I guess I got here first. With all of those dead bugs I figured he’d be up here…” She stows her revolver back into her holster and slowly rotates her ears as she tries to listen for any sign of intrusion. “I hope nothing’s come up and causing him to run late.”

“Who’s late?”

She spins around, and pulls out her revolver in the same motion as she looks in the corner, and sees Gearing sitting there as casual as can be. For a moment she looks horrified to see him, but then simply surprised, but then out right confused. As the shock is wearing off she puts her revolver away and waves a hoof at him. “Where’d you come from?! You weren’t there a second ago!”

Gearing just grins at her, and shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? I know how to stay out of sight when I want to.”

She chuckles and snorts a bit before she looks around. She puts a hoof to her chest as she starts manually controlling her breathing. “Really gave me a start there!”

Gearing chuckles as he leans sideways against a wall and waves a hoof towards her. “Sorry, was just having a bit of fun…”

She smirks as she starts looking him over. “I can understand that… Speaking of which.” She starts walking towards him as the smile on her muzzle just gets bigger. “Thank you for coming to meet me, I really appreciate it. Name’s OJ, by the way… I realized after the fact that I had a ditz moment and forgot to say so…”

Gearing nods and waves towards her. “It’s fine, OJ. I know not everyone’s willing to talk in the open. So, you said you had some information I could use?”

Her eyes virtually sparkle as she nods. She practically hops over as he gets in front of him. “Yes, I do, at least I think I do!”

“Well… what is it?”

She looks him over and bites her lip as she tries to think of how to go about this. “What if I told you I know of a location where you can get schematics for a variety of weapons… And the same location has the manufacturing capabilities to make those same weapons?” She sees Gearing straighten up just a bit more and both of his ears jump towards her, and that just encourages her all the more. “Aaaand… while I can’t guarantee the state of the equipment… with your … talents… and connections, I’m sure you’ll be able to strip out of there a practical fortune for yourself…”

Gearing looks her over for a few moments, and is a bit perplexed as she seems to enjoy his eyes traveling over her. “How’s it not been stripped bare all this time?”

The mare grins and holds up a hoof. “See! A certain somepony went in there on a contract that was on the Megamart info wall. They cashed in the contract for gathering the data. But, knowing what I know about them, they aren’t smart enough to wipe the drives afterwards. So, they don’t have the only copy… Meaning you can get copies too. Buuut, since they went in, the security should not be nearly as strong as it was. Because the top floors had been a nopony zone for a looong time. Too many murder bots along the way. But if she got in and got the data… And came out with a bunch of goodies, I’m sure you can too. Especially since I already know she had to trash a good portion of the security just to get to where she was going.”

Gearing puts a hoof to his muzzle as he gives it a ponder. “I see… and if she’s already cashed in the contract successfully… that means she’d sell whatever else she salvaged out of there too…” He looks at her sideways. “She sell any of the gear? Parts? Molds? Any of that hit the market?”

She straightens up as she gives her tail a very pleased swish. “Nnnn-ope!” She shakes her head. “She either didn’t know any better, or hadn’t thought of it. But the only thing she really took out of these was the ammo that she could find. Apparently left the rest.” She leans towards him. “And, you know, if they’re manufacturing weapons and ammo…”

Gearing nods as he looks down. “Yeah, they’ll have to have the reloading benches and other gear for making it…”

She sways side to side as she says, “Exactly… and if she didn’t take it, then it’s still there. But you’re gonna have to hurry up and get it before someone else gets the bright idea and gives it a shot.”

Gearing nods. “Yeah, that could potentially be very valuable… depending on what’s still there…”

She smiles as she leans just a bit closer. “So… about compensation for the information…”

Gearing smirks as he looks up at her. “Yeah?”

She swishes her tail a bit before getting even closer. “Tell you what… I’ll tell you where it is, in advance…” She leans in and whispers in his ear. “And then I’ll let you decide what it’s worth to you, and compensate me appropriately…”

Gearing looks at her and can’t help but smirk as she’s entirely invaded his personal space and their muzzles are just shy of touching lengthways at this point. “Oh? Well… that’s a lot of trust to put into me.”

She bobs her head a bit. “What can I say, I think you’re trustworthy.”

Gearing tilts his head a bit as he smirks. “And I think you’re clever… because you’re putting the ball in my court so if I don’t do enough I’ll look like a cheapskate, which increases the chances of me having to be more generous to avoid looking like I’m stiffing you.”

Her eyes sparkle with a sudden bout of mirth before she says, “Sounds fair to me…”

He takes in a deep breath before asking, “So, I’m guessing you already have something you want in mind…?”

“MMmmmhmmm… You said that’s valuable and you’ll know what to do with it, so it should be a fine boost to your saddle bags, right?”

“Potentially… Yes.”

“So… how about…” she asks quietly, and he can’t help but notice her fur getting a bit darker around her cheeks and just a hint more heat coming from her since they are so close.

“How aboouuuut?” he prods.

She leans in and starts rubbing a hoof over his chest gently, with their cheeks so close it’s almost like she’s trying to nuzzle him, but not quite. In that position she speaks softly into his ear. “I want you to make me make the same kinda noises you had pouring out of Patches’ room the other day.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide before he asks, “What, wait, you mean, you want-”

She pulls back a bit and her face flushes even more. “Yeah… as much service credit as you think it’ll be worth for what you get.” She gently pats him on the chest as she says, “I’ll let you be the judge… You’re the professional after all…”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head hovers there off to the side with his jaw hanging open far larger than his jaw should allow. He flicks both forehooves towards her. ‘Is she kidding me?! What the hell's this? She been talking to Dandy or something?’

Her eyes dart between one of his to the other as she leans back a bit, but can’t help from continuing rubbing on his chest since he’s done nothing to discourage it so far. A fact that she takes as a good sign. “Iiiiiis there a problem?”

Gearing blinks a couple times, before he gives her a bit of a crooked grin. “Just trying to make sure I understand you right…”

“Mmmhmm?”

“You tell me where it’s at, I get to get whatever I can, and, as for your finder’s fee…” He leans in and invades her personal space for once. “You want me to make you squirm proportionally to how much I think the information’s worth after I check it out… Right?”

She smiles at him and pats his chest a bit. “That’s right, Mr. Fixer… All I want is a house call and you to scratch an itch using the best back scratcher money for this information can buy…” She pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and puts it in her mouth as she smiles at him. “Do we have a deal?”

The little pegasus flicks his forehooves back and forth, still looking completely flabbergasted as he waits for the judgment.

“Sure. We got a deal,” Gearing says softly as he looks her over. Though with the slight smile and flirty eyes he starts giving her, she actually has a hard time looking at him and making eye contact with him suddenly. He lifts up his PipBuck and opens the map for her to see.

She avoids eye contact as she starts manipulating his PipBuck’s map with her magical aura. She taps on his foreleg when it’s there and he activates the marker where she indicates. “Iron Shod… Be careful though. She trashed a good portion of the security that’s kept most folks out, but I doubt she got everything… You’ll want the upper floors… fourth floor specifically…”

Gearing looks at it, and his eyes go wide. “Wait, Iron Shod’s still standing? It didn’t get wiped out by the bombs?! That’s surprising.”

She looks at him and smiles. “What can I say? It didn’t take a direct hit and it’s still there, ripe for the plundering… Like something else I know of.” She sways just a bit, giving a more than necessary amount of hip wiggle to get her point across.

“Well then…” Gearing comments as he closes out of the PipBuck. “Thanks, I’ll head over there now and get a look. We were planning on leaving in the morning, but… I’ll squeeze this in so there’s no delay.”

She smirks around her cigarette. “Well, it’d be a shame if something happened to it while you’re off hunting down slavers and the like, so, yes please.”

Gearing looks her over before he asks, “You able to take the next day or two off?”

She blinks a couple times before she stares at him. “Uhm. I’m pretty sure, especially if I need to, why? Want me to tag along?”

Gearing leans in as he smirks at her. “No… I just got a few things in mind that might necessitate an extended rest period… Depending on what I find.” He gives her a quick wink and a coy grin as he finishes.

Her eyes slowly go wider. As the color on her cheeks just gets even hotter. As she's staring at him, he quickly leans in, and gives her a rather deep tongued kiss that practically makes her hooves curl and her rear end hits the ground as her legs lose strength. He continues holding her cheeks with his forehooves as he pulls back and says, “Consider that a down payment…” Then he turns and scurries off out through the door and on his way before she can respond.

She sits there in the same position, staring off into space, and still reeling from the implications of what just happened. Slowly her wide eyes narrow, then focus to the end of her muzzle. She manipulates her mouth, and tilts up the cigarette she has in her mouth so it’s standing vertically with her lips holding the butt and the cherry red ember is high up in the air as she stares at it. Her eyes go wider by the second again before she asks quietly, “How the hell he kiss me like that, with the cigarette still in my mouth?!” She slowly lays down as she groans. “OJ, my girl, you might have fucked up with this one…”

Before completely leaving OJ, Gearing does a quick couple laps in the air around the building to make sure no one had followed her or were trying to sneak up and ambush her. After being satisfied that there’s no immediate dangers, he turns and heads off in the direction of Iron Shod

‘What the hell was that about?’ the little pegasus in his head asks as it floats around.

I’m as confused as you are… Gearing mentally replies.

‘I mean, it’s not the first time we’ve ‘pumped’ someone for information… kinda in the job description… but that’s the first time one so willingly came up and made an offer like that…’ the little pegasus replies as it rubs his chin.

“I mean, practice makes perfect..” Gearing muses aloud quietly.

‘Well, when you focus so heavily on ‘unconventional warfare’ training,’ the little pegasus in his head giggles back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing sits in his flight suit in his little maintenance bay of Stormfront’s main outpost with his goggles on as he tilts his head side to side and watches Skip talk quietly with Snake and Mouse. Both of which are in their preferred griffon and pony forms respectively. Gearing’s not sure what’s actually being said. Skip made sure Gearing’s ears were muffed with sound canceling ear protection before he went to talk with the pair. So Gearing’s not entirely sure what’s going on, or what the big deal is, but they are talking rather energetically among themselves.

And the constant glances in his direction from the various members lets Gearing know, without a doubt, that the conversation is most definitely about him.

He’s not sure what all the fuss is about, it was a rather simple request, he thought.

After a few more moments of talking among themselves, with wildly gleeful expressions on their faces, Skip turns around and walks back over to Gearing and removes the headphones from his head as the others walk over with him.

Gearing looks between them as he asks, “Well?”

Skip motions to the side and Mouse, in his typical tan mare form, grins widely as they say, “We understand, but we think there’s someone else who’d probably be a bit better at helping you.”

Snake nods her griffon head rapidly as she says, “Yup. Definitely.” She looks at the others, zipping her head back and forth as she grins and asks, “We should go talk to her now, right?”

Mouse grins widely as they say, “Definitely. Sooner the better.”

Skip snickers then says in his soft musical voice, “Come on, Nitro, let’s go talk to them and see if they’ll be willing to be your study buddy.”

He turns and trots off, with Gearing close at heel and the other two bringing up the rear, side by side, with massive grins across their respective faces. Near the far end of the maintenance bay, the noise of mechanical work starts picking up as they approach a tank that has had its turret removed, and is currently being held aloft by this area's heavy equipment harnesses and gantry.

Skip motions for the others to stop the parade as he jumps up, flutters a bit, and lands on the armor plating of the tank. He pokes his head over the edge of the gap where the turret would connect as he calls down even more musically than his voice would normally sound, “Ooohhh Hammeeeerrrrrr.” His ears perk up as he asks, “You got a minute?”

Hammer climbs up and out of the turret ring, holding a large wrench in her mouth as she looks at Skip, then her eyes jump over to the others, lingering, typically so, on Gearing for a moment before looking back at Skip. She pulls the wrench out of her mouth as she asks, “What’s up?”

Skip motions for her to come out as he lands over next to Gearing as he says, “Nitro has a request, and needs some help.”

Hammer smirks as she jumps out of the tank and lands on the ground not far from Gearing as she looks at Skip. She rolls her eyes as she waves a hoof at Gearing. “I’ve already said I’d help him study whatever he needs. No problem. Don’t even need to ask.”

Skip holds up a hoof as he says with a smirk, “Actually, I think he does… in this case especially.” He steps back as he waves Gearing on towards Hammer. “Well, Nitro, go ahead.” Then he promptly steps back in line in between Snake and Hammer as they watch with interest.

The goofy grins the trio have across their respective muzzles and beak doesn’t go unnoticed by Hammer as she wonders who’s going to get pranked this time. She clicks her tongue before she raises an eyebrow and looks at Gearing. “What do you need help with this time?”

“Well, Hammer, I need some help studying-” Gearing begins, but he gets cut off by Skip who jumps to his side and puts a wing over Gearing’s muzzle.

Skip tuts him as he waves his wing side to side in front of Gearing's eyes as he says flatly, “Nitro, this is a very important request…” Both Snake and Mouse lean closer, with one of their grinning faces taking up position on either side of Skip’s, as they nod enthusiastically. “So, you need to start from the very beginning,” he continues and, again, they nod in agreement. “And I’m sure, if you explain yourself entirely to her, the way you explained it to me, then she’d be more likely to help you.” Snake and Mouse, again, rapidly nod their heads with massive grins on their face as they stare at him expectantly.

Skip pulls back and holds up a hoof in the air as he closes his eyes and says solemnly, “So… don’t leave anything out!” Then he gets a massive grin on his own muzzle as Snake and Mouse sit in line with him and give a single solid strong nod of agreement before sitting back and watching quietly.

Hammer narrows her eyes at them, and then quickly looks around at their surroundings as she expects some kind of surprise attack or something. But then focuses on Gearing as he taps on his muzzle and tries to sort out his thoughts.

Gearing looks back at Skip as he says, “Well... if you think it’d help to explain it all.”

“I do,” says Skip.

“Absolutely,” agrees Snake.

“I’d say it’s vital even!” Mouse declares and earns a round of head nodding from the others in agreement.

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Well… okay…” He looks at Hammer and waves a hoof around as he takes in a deep breath. “Okay… so… I was going through a variety of files and reports and I found a few documents about tactics that have been used successfully in the past. And after reading those, I realized that there might come a time when I could get a particular job done by using the alternative methods they talked about.” He shrugs as he says, “That way nopony has to get hurt in the process.” He looks back at the others, who simply wave him on to continue with the same massive grins across their muzzles.

Gearing looks around at the ground and trails it over the pieces of equipment and various fluid stains as he continues. “So, I figured if I could learn how to do the same things they’d done… to perfect the techniques they used, that I’d be able to avoid the need for violence… and as a result no one on either side would have to get hurt, and I wouldn’t have to worry about my squadmates getting hurt during reprisals or an alarm sounding, etc…”

Hammer looks between him and the other three, obviously not seeing where the help of a mechanic would come in with this scenario. “Yeah? And?”

Gearing turns and points a hoof behind him momentarily as he says, “Well, Skip’s been the one helping me with infiltration, stealth, and other forms of indirect combat… So I talked to him about it, and he took me to Snake and Mouse to see what they thought, since they’re in the same subsection of the unit… and apparently they all agreed that you’d be the best one to ask to help me study.”

Hammer looks between them as she asks, “Nitro… I still don’t get it… What do you need help studying?”

Snake, Mouse, and Skip all start stretching out their grinning mugs as they lean in closer, almost over Gearing, as they look straight at Hammer.

Gearing, not paying attention to the others’ antics, and not caring about their encroachment, waves a hoof at her as he says flatly, “A mare’s body, your body, specifically, if you’ll allow it.”

Hammer’s eyes jump to their widest as her tail practically stands straight out backwards in shock. Simultaneously Snake, Mouse, and Skip’s grins all, somehow, get even wider as they watch her brain practically melt in her head.

Gearing, seeing her surprised reaction, waves a forehoof quickly. “I don’t mean anything like practicing IVs and such, Cross is already helping me with that. I just need an honest and trustworthy opinion… Someone who I can be sure will teach me and make sure I know exactly what I need to know.” He shrugs as he waves a forehoof and says, “It’s entirely invading your personal space, so that’s why it was important to ask. I didn’t think you’d just want me running my hooves all over you randomly.” He gently reaches over and rubs a hoof over the outside of the muscle of her upper foreleg, an already understood pre-approval zone, as he says, “I wanna know what, where, and how you like to be touched. What feels good, if that makes sense.”

Hammer’s eyes almost jump out of her skull, as the eyelids retract so far, while she sputters and gasps, all while jumping her focus from his hoof on her foreleg, to his face. “S-sh- surely you can’t- You- you s-serious?!”

Gearing nods as he looks up at her. “If it’s not too much to ask… yes please.” He removes the hoof from her upper leg as he says, “I can’t think of any other way I’d be able to figure it out without an appropriate partner to give me the feedback and guide my training.”

Hammer’s eyes jump around as she seems to be looking in a million different directions at once before she looks at Skip and asks, “This can’t be-”

Snake, Skip, and Mouse somehow lean even closer, over Gearing, as they stare at Hammer in the eyes and nod in unison as they say, “Oh it’s exactly how it sounds!” Then they nod a few more times as Hammer sputters and spits like an engine that’s gotten out of timing.

Gearing waves a hoof quickly as he says, “I’m pretty sure it’ll help me help the unit if I can figure out how to do it properly.”

The phrasing earns a trio of snickers and another round of mis-timed engine impersonation by Hammer.

“Purely academic reasons…” Snake says with another few rapid nods and a twinkle in her eye.

“Entirely professional…” Skip adds with a nod of his own.

“An investment in the future, even!” Mouse says with a giggle.

They all three nod in agreement again before they ask, in unison, “Welllllll?”

Gearing sheepishly taps his forehooves together as he looks up at her and asks softly, “Is it too much to ask?”

Hammer’s entire body seems to shiver and shake as she clenches her teeth, jumping her focus from one of them to the other. She coughs into her hoof before she says, “One moment…” Then she pulls out a telescopic pointer, and goes down the line. She taps Mouse on the head. Then Skip. Then Snake. And, as she’s tapping Gearing on the head the other three grin even wider as they know exactly what she was doing, which makes this even more priceless for them. She starts collapsing the pointer rod as she says softly, “There’s only three changelings in the unit… and since there’s four of you, and no illusions…” She stares at Gearing for a moment before she raises an eyebrow. “Nitro, is that really you?”

Gearing nods as he pulls his goggles off, and reveals his brushed copper eyes. “Yeah, it’s me, Hammer. Why?”

Hammer looks over at the other three and narrows her eyes as she says, “I swear if you got one of your friends, and this is some kinda prank, I’m gonna find the biggest spanner I can get my hooves on and shove it up your tailpipe. Sideways!”

Gearing steps up to her as he looks up at her with concern plainly on his face. “No, it’s me, Hammer…” He reaches over and gently rubs her shoulder as he asks, “Is something wrong?”

Hammer’s eyes go wide as she stares into his. She puts the telescopic rod away before she coughs into a hoof and looks over at the other three. “Ahem… So… for umm… skill advancement… and academic purposes… right?”

The other three nod rapidly.

Hammer coughs into her hoof again, trying her best to cover up the growing grin across her muzzle as she asks, “And… Mouse didn’t want to help with this?” She looks over at the changeling and raises an eyebrow as she smirks. “It seems like something right up their alley.”

Mouse tilts their head and looks around as they giggle. They turn their head sideways as they say with their eyes partially closed. “Well… I wouldn’t mind… but I’m sure he only really needs one mare to help him… and…” They smile wider as they say softly, “A friend of mine said it’s not nice to poach…”

Hammer actually giggles as she looks around and avoids eye contact with them. “Well… thanks for thinking of me… It’s a shame though, with your vast experience, I’m sure you could teach him a few things.”

Gearing looks between the two, then over at Mouse as he says, “Well… actually… I need as many points of references as I can get.” He looks at Mouse as he says, “And it would probably be a good idea to get some feedback from and on a buck as well… If you’d be interested?”

Mouse’s eyes go wide as the grin explodes across their face before they lean down and look Gearing in the eye. “Really?!” The grin turns crooked as they ask, “Crap… you’re looking for the buck side of things, aren’t you?” Gearing nods. Mouse hangs their head a bit as they rock it side to side. But then they perk up as they grin and ask, “Okay, but would you like other types of mares too? I can do a whole spectrum, so you’d get a variety to choose from.” They give him a wink as they turn their head sideways.

Hammer’s eyes flare open wide as she yells, “Hey! You just said no poaching!”

Mouse looks up at her and frowns as they partially pout. “It’s not poaching if it’s sharing…”

Gearing looks between them and raises an eyebrow as he says, “It’s not like I can’t study both of you… With different schedules it shouldn’t be a problem going from one to the other with the changes in availability… Should it?”

Hammer smirks as she says with a sigh, “You got a point I guess…” She reaches out a hoof towards Mouse and grins as she asks, “Study buddy trifecta?”

Mouse dutifully taps it as they say, “Sounds like a plan!”

Gearing grins as he looks between them and asks, “Really? You’ll really help me?”

Hammer nods as she coughs into her hoof again and looks off to the side, “Yeah, Nitro, I’ll help you as much as I can.” She grins widely before she leans down and sideways towards him as she asks, “So… uh… when do you want to… uhm… start… with the… uh… lesson plan?”

Gearing grins up at her as he waves a hoof at her. “My schedule's open for a while, so it entirely depends on when you’re available.”

Hammer nods as she closes her eyes and mumbles. “Hmmm yes… yes… is that so…” She glances around with one eye as the grin on her muzzle gets wider before she says, “Well… I’m due for a break, and the tank isn’t going anywhere…” She looks at Gearing with her eyes partially closed as she asks, “Want to squeeze in a … study… session now?”

Gearing nods as he looks around the immediate area of the maintenance area around the tank. “Sure! Thanks! Uh… Where would be better? Bit dirty around here for it…”

Hammer leans sideways and bumps him with a hip as she nods across the bay towards some smaller metal shipping containers. “The brass dropped off a shipment earlier, and the crates are just waiting to be sent back. Should be good enough for now.”

Gearing nods as he follows her over to, and into, the container as he says, “Wherever you want, you’re doing me the favor. I appreciate it!”

Hammer closes the door behind them as she giggles, “Not as much as I appreciate your assistance with everything, trust me.”

Mouse, Snake, and Skip sit there grinning like idiots before they look at each other and try to figure out what to do next.

“Well?” Skip asks.

Mouse sits down and grins as they sway side to side. “Well, I’m free alllll day… I’m just gonna wait and see how this goes, and if my turn’s next.”

Snake rolls her eyes and says with a paw to her mouth, “I gotta admit, I’m morbidly curious… If you’re all going to sit here and wait, I’m not going to leave only to hear about it later…”

* * *

Cross walks into the mechanical bay looking at a clipboard as she happily trots over to Gearing’s confiscated bay slot. She lowers the clipboard and tilts her head as she looks in and sees that it’s completely empty. She looks down the length of the maintenance area and sees Snake and Mouse in their casual forms playing checkers near the partially disassembled tank at the end of the lane, with Skip sitting on a box nearby and watching.

She heads that way. But, as she’s getting close, Skip looks up and spots her. A grin explodes across his face as he says, “I’ll be right back!” and then disappears into a puff of black smoke.

The other two turn and look at Cross, and have a hard time keeping a grin off their faces as they try to keep their head in the game, and fail horribly.

Cross looks between them as she gets closer and asks, “What was that all about? Where’d Skip go?”

Snake shrugs her feathery shoulders before she says, “Not sure, said he’d be right back.”

Mouse grins as they nod. “Yeah, he’ll be right back, I’m sure.”

Cross narrows her eyes at the two as she asks, “What’s going on here with you two?”

Snake points a talon at the game board as she says, “Just playing checkers during down time, why?”

Mouse nods rapidly. “Checkers. Yup. Great game!”

Cross looks between the two with just her eyes rapidly as she comments, “Okay, now I know you two are up to something…”

Skip pops back above where he’d been sitting with a puff of black smoke holding a large bowl full of hot popcorn. He looks around quickly. Spins around in a circle as he hovers in the air with the bowl held in his forehooves, before he lands and sets the bowl down right on top of the checkers board. “I’m back! What’d I miss?!”

Cross narrows her eyes at him and starts walking closer, but then her ears perk up. And as her ears jump up at some sudden sound, the other three grin widely as they start munching on the popcorn that Skip brought.

She walks over towards the shipping container not far away as she asks, “What the hell's that noise?”

The other three follow close behind with Skip holding the bowl aloft with his wings as the three regularly munch on the piping hot treat.

Cross looks at them over her shoulder and scowls before her horn glows, as does the door to the shipping container, and she starts looking back at the container as she throws the door open. Before the door’s open she yells, “Alright what the hell’s-” She stops, and her eyes go wide as she gets an unobstructed view inside and sees what’s going on in the shipping container, and practically screeches, “What the fuck?!”

Skip nods sagely as he says, “Exactly…”

Cross sputters as her mane bristles and her eyes go as wide as they can go. But, as she tries to figure out what obscenity she wishes to scream at the moment, and there are a lot to choose from, instead she blurts out, “How in the hell is he holding you up in the air like that with just his forehoves!?”

Hammer’s voice comes yelling back in breathy pants as she says, “It’s not what it looks like! It’s- It’s- It’s, ooooh gods! It’s academMMMmic!”

Snake nods with a beak full of popcorn before she says with a grin, “Purely academic.”

Skip grins as he nods. “Entirely for professional study reasons.”

Cross’s focus jumps back to Skip as she yells, “I wanna know what’s going on here!”

Mouse, having snuck up to the container, and is currently unabashedly watching the proceedings, and neither of the pair inside have made any attempt to stop, swishes their flank side to side repeatedly as their hind legs shake and they bite a forehoof and moan, “I wanna know when it’s my turn for some of that!”

Cross jerks her head over to Mouse, then slowly rotates her head to look at Skip as her eyes narrow with untold malice. Skip gives her a sheepish grin and passes the bowl of popcorn to Snake as he says, “You’re gonna wanna hold this.”

A moment later a phantasmal folded paper appears above Skip and snaps down to hit him in the head, but he pops away in a puff of smoke as Snake grabs the bowl with a claw.

Skip starts laughing as Cross is chasing after him as he asks, “Why are you mad at me?! They’re the ones giving him a polish!”

She swings the folded paper at him repeatedly, with him popping away at the last second each time, as she chases after him and yells, “You’re the one that put him up to it! I know it! This has you written all over it, you little pervert!”

Skip pops around her a few times in rapid succession as he laughs and says, “Actually it was his idea! He wanted somepony and I figured why not help out a hard up mare who already had the hots for him anyway!” He pops in front of Cross’s face for a moment, just long enough to kiss her on the nose as he winks and says, “Not like you’d be interested in doing it yourself.”

She flushes with her entire body as she yells, “I’m never gonna live that down!” and continues chasing after him.

Gearing pokes his head out of the shipping container as he frowns. “Crap, did I get y'all in trouble?”

Mouse waves it off with a hoof as they say, “Nah, she’s just really protective…” They look inside the shipping container as they ask, “Soooo how’d it gooooo?”

Hammer giggles and mumbles a bit before she lets out a groan from the floor of the shipping container. “His attention to details and instructions are as immaculate as ever… but his oral presentation could use a bit of review and polish.”

Mouse looks over at Gearing and grins as their eyes trail over the now entirely derobed buck who’s standing there in only his synthetic illusionary fur yet his eyes are still the same brushed copper he was born with. “Really now hmmm?” Mouse leans over and gives Gearing a wink as they ask, “So… need to go over your notes or want to try something… new?”

Gearing looks at them, and can’t keep from smirking as Mouse’s flank quickly shakes one way then the other. “Well, if you have time, sure. It’d be good to review soon and see how much I’ve retained and can apply to a new situation.”

Mouse quickly grabs his hoof and starts pulling him away towards the door out of the maintenance wing as they say, “Great! I’m free all day! Let's get out of here so we’re not disturbing any of the workflow!”

Gearing quickly leaves with Mouse, leaving the remaining two to sit there and ponder the situation.

Snake continues munching on the popcorn as she looks at the door where Gearing and Mouse are headed and comments, “That buck’s in trouble…”

“Which one?” Hammer asks from the shipping container with a giggle as she hasn’t moved from the place where she was deposited and collapsed.

Snake leans over, looks into the container, and giggles a bit as she says, “Know what… I’m not sure…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m still confused… with how much stuff this is probably going to be worth, why’d she just leave it up to me?” Gearing asks no one in particular quietly as he’s flying.

‘Well, regardless of her reasons, one things for sure…’ the little pegasus in his head responds

“What’s that?”

‘You’re the ‘buck of the hour’ tonight… a ‘rent-a-buck’ a ‘masseur’. ’

Gearing’s eyes jump wide for a moment before he asks, “Wait, that’s it! Does she think I’m some kinda prostitute on the side or something?”

‘Apparently, and a highly paid one at that… So more like a ‘high-end escort’ or a fancy courtesan…’

“Oh geeze, I never had an interest in anything like that…” Gearing groans.

‘Only when it was the smoothest method of getting information, not actively trying to do it for personal wealth…’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head agrees.

“Yeah, any money definitely wasn’t the goal… not that that’s happened often…”

‘Let’s face it, you’re a not-for-profit WHORE-ganization…’

Gearing groans.

The little pegasus laughs. ‘Beat you to it!’

“Well, if I end up getting valuable information out of it, or things to help me complete my mission, then… well… whatever.” Gearing shrugs. “Happy creatures are cooperative creatures and if it takes shellacking them to a wall to get it done, so be it. That’s what I’ll do.”

‘Yeah, figured out that was the path of least resistance and blood loss a while ago. Seems things like that don’t change. They get what they want and we get the information we need.’

“Speaking of which, time for a detour now that I see what I’m looking for…” Gearing replies as he sees something moving in the dark below that he had been hoping for. And, as he’s getting closer, he can’t help but smile as he hears that old world tune playing through ancient speakers.

Gearing angles his wings, cuts altitude, and drops down towards his target. He swoops down, as quiet as can be, and snags the floating mechanical sprite bot right out of the air, like a natural avian predator grabbing a snack, and quickly angles back up into the air.

“Hey, Watcher… Fixer calling Watcher… You awake in your little nerdy dungeon?” Gearing asks with a giggle as he flies up and over onto another building with the sprite bot still tooting out the tuba song like the oompa oompa beat was the latest and greatest fad.

Gearing lands on the roof of the building, keeping the bot pointed away from himself in case it suddenly decides to try and get violet. “Heeeeey, Watcher! What are you watching if not the screen?”

Still nothing changes.

“Do I gotta start singing something off key to go along with the beat? Maybe with some glass and metal scratching? You don’t want me butchering a Sweetie Belle song, do you? Don’t make me do it! I’ll do it! You’ll have Sweetie Belle nightmares!”

The music cuts off and Gearing spins the bot around to look into its camera.

A groan comes across the speaker. “Don’t make my life any harder, Gearing.”

Gearing grins as he lets go of the bot and lets it hover on its own. “Actually I’m trying to make your life easier… That’s why I needed to talk with you.”

“Give me a second. I’d laid down for a nap. Only been asleep about an hour before you woke me up with your shrill whining.”

Gearing tilts his head. “I wasn’t whining.”

“It sounded like whining to me.”

“I was just being persistent about something I want.”

“So, whining…?”

“I didn’t snag your bot to have a battle of semantics with you about my alleged hypothetical whining.”

“What do you want? I’d like to get a few more hours sleep so I can watch the monitors during the day. You know, when most reasonable people are out and about?”

Gearing gives the bot a crooked grin. “I’m cashing in part of our agreement.”

“What?”

Gearing waves towards the mountains to the south. “I’m leaving the area in the morning. Going back to the Megamac area. But I’ve got some things popping off up here. I’m poking the hornet's nest and need to know how things develop.”

The bot laughs before the voice replies, “Yeah, I’ve seen a bit of it. Good work so far for sure. You’ve got some of these slavers terrified of you. And a good portion of the bounty hunters after Security have gave up on it because they don’t want to end up like the others… You should hear some of the things they’ve been saying about you.”

Gearing grins as he asks, “Oh? Do tell?”

“I’ll keep the choice stuff out of it, you don’t need to hear about some of it. They’re just idiots. But others? You’re turning into some kind of night terror for them. Like something Nightmare Moon conjured up and sicced on them. You’re being blamed for all kinds of disappearances and folks meeting unfortunate ends. Basically if a slaver or bounty hunter gets killed, and the cause isn’t immediately known, they’re blaming you for it whether you had anything to do with it or not.”

Gearing’s grin gets a bit crooked before he replies. “Well, shit… I hope it leads to some positive results.”

“I think so. Just keep doing what you’re doing and things are bound to improve.”

Gearing smiles as he opens up his PipBuck. “Speaking of which, let me show you what I need from you and your network of bots…”

Footnote:

Sector Discovered, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

!!!ERROR!!! Synchronization Failed. . .

Please Stand By. . .

90 Copper Coated Candy Store

After having gone over his plan with Watcher, or at least what he needs from Watcher for this part of the plan, Gearing replaced the sprite bot back at ground level and then continued on his route to the marker OJ had made him aware of.

Finding Ironshod Firearms’ R&D building wasn’t nearly as hard for Gearing as some would have thought. After all, he’s been to this very building before, so he knew what it looked like. Back before getting magically kidnapped and thrown two hundred years into the future. He’d never been past the first floor though, as the meeting he’d had here was only a cursory type thing. And even then he got the feeling that he wasn’t truly welcome and the ponies he talked to felt like they didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

And if that is what they thought, they were correct. Because the alternative would have been far more invasive. Because when Gearing starts hunting for a rat, he doesn’t typically take ‘no’ for an answer.

Upon arriving at the multistory building it doesn’t take long for Gearing to see signs of battle. Some really old. But far more recent fights as well. He takes to hovering in the air where he can to avoid stepping on things and creating unnecessary noise. Judging by his EFS, there are a lot of things trying to be problems for him in this building. Although, given what he knows from back in the old world, there’s far less of them than there would normally be otherwise. Even if it is all security bots with ponicidal tendencies and not just a bunch of over ambitious insects.

He starts finding the relatively fresh wrecks of security robots with impressive regularity. Robronco Sentries. Multi-limbed combat hover bots. There’s also the tell tale signs of many destroyed turrets. Along with the wrecks there are an overabundance of spent shotgun shells littering the ground. All of which still have the faint smell of recent discharge. The bots may have been old, but the damage on most of these is fresh. And so are the scorch marks from detonated mines. But, as far as he can see, there’s no blood, gore, or fur along with it so the mines most likely didn’t claim any victims when they detonated.

All of which lines up with what Gearing was told by OJ.

He follows the wake of fresh destruction up through the second floor and then continues up beyond the catwalks to more solid floors again. After all, if there’s already been one successful trip in and out by someone else, he considers that the most likely path of least resistance. The lower levels were pretty much as he’d expected, with the first floor being mostly offices and the second floor being a series of narrow catwalks connecting various labs and different related rooms, but as he climbs further up he sees areas that are in a bit better condition. Offices and equipment still left where it was last used, instead of scattered around by inconsiderate idiots who get bored and just decide to break stuff like he’s been accustomed to finding in the vast majority of derelict buildings he’s been in since waking up on this side of the apocalypse.

Except the scattered remnants of the trashed security bots. There’s plenty of those. And he can’t help staring at a couple of them and wondering just how much scrap equipment he can fish out of them and how useful it could be if he got it back to the stable.

Instantly he starts regretting losing the sky wagon and debates the merits of getting another one working. Merits such as having the golden opportunity of cleaning out the entire manufacturing wing, and all of the security bots, and taking them back to the stable so he can work and build with them. He can haul a lot, but at a certain point the bulk will make it hard for even him to carry.

It doesn’t take long for him to start having flights of fancy about not needing to go to the Core anymore, if he can just set up a security manufacturing center and repair elsewhere.

‘You’re drooling,’ the little pegasus in his head giggles as he flies around aimlessly.

Typical of his method for clearing places, he sweeps the third and fourth floor for threats as well before he even starts seriously thinking about scavenging. But, what he has seen on the way up is good. Real good. And he knows a particular mare that would be celebrating each time the calculations involving her request add more to the goods’ total value. And after making a quick check list of locations of various threats that are still remaining in the building, he heads back downstairs to where it’d all already been cleared, and heads straight for the second floor labs to start taking inventory.

He walks into one of the labs on the second floor, and quickly looks back and forth as the interior strikes him as being odd. This one’s a bit different. While a few others have had minimal if any real recent traffic, this one definitely has had hoof traffic. He walks over to a set of equipment, and finds the tell tale signs of recent chemistry work in action. Not too recent. But recent enough. Although, whoever did it was in such a rush that they didn’t seem to care about cleaning and putting things back to where they should be. He finds an empty syringe near a spot where it looks like someone had been laying down. He walks over to the used beaker and sniffs the contents. After staring at the material on the inside, and the cast off solids to the side, Gearing gently licks the inside of the breaker to taste the residue.

“Hmmmm…minty” He looks over at the solids that had been strained out and dumped into a metal surgical tray sitting on the counter, and pokes around in them a bit with his wing tip. He holds up a familiar hard chip and brings it close to his eye. He quickly pops it into his mouth for a few seconds, swishing it around with his tongue, before spitting it back out into the rest of the cast offs. “Chitin.”

He looks around slowly as he says, “Healing potion solution mixed with organic material from a scorpion… That’s definitely a piece of carapace from one of those bigger scorpions.” He looks over at the bed and frowns as he muses, “I bet one of them got got by one of the blasted scorpions Bonesaw’s been bitching about and they used the lab to cook up some anti venom antidote…” He walks over and scuffs around where it looks like the improvised bed was and sniffs a bit. He grabs the empty syringe and looks it over before he smiles lightly. “They musta done a good enough job to get them going again.” He sets the syringe back down as he comments, “Good on them…”

He starts walking around the lab, taking stock of all of the equipment as he debates on what would be the best to take with him and in what order. The fact they won’t be taking any of the repair parts, or equipment that they came up here for in the first place, back to the stable from here means he’ll have far more storage capacity for carrying other goodies. Depending on what he finds, he might have to make a few trips.

But the little pegasus in his head quickly starts jumping around and waving a flag as it brings up a very good point.

‘Get the shit we don’t currently have access to first. We already have a chem lab. Leave the ‘would be nice’ shit for later. Grab the ‘needs’ now!’

Gearing nods as he starts to leave the used lab room. But, even so, he quickly grabs the hot plate that someone had been using to cook up anti venom. He checks it quickly, smiles at its flawless functionality, and then walks out into the hall with it. He quickly sets it down, letting it cool, as he turns and heads further down the hallway as he continues his snooping trip. More labs. More offices. More destroyed robots and empty shells.

Along the way he can’t help but notice some of the damage to the robot corpses and other signs of fighting. The tiny rods of steel he knows are used in flechette rounds, meant for lightly armored targets, get a smirk from him. The bot with a splat of green ooze on it draws a genuine smile. And it doesn't take him long to realize that someone must have gotten some rounds that they didn’t know anything about, and simply tested them on the first opponent they came across. Not a bad strategy in his opinion.

In one of the labs he finds a set of boxes that seem to have been organized for the storage of manufactured ammo. Whole crates of them even. He grabs them and looks in with a wide smile, but instantly frowns once he actually gets a look. Every single one has already been taken. The crates are completely empty. And recently judging by the voids in the dust. He narrows his eyes and carefully pushes them back into location as he says, “Aaaaand that’s definitely the work of the mare that did most of the leg work through here. So I’m not too mad about it. Hope she enjoyed them…” He can’t help but looking around as he sees all of the various empty casings and knowing that all of them would be near the end of the list of things he’d want to grab. Since they’d be useful for reloads, but not much else.

‘But they still are on the list, you know,’ the little pegasus in his head giggles as it looks over the practical treasure trove of goodies clinking around against Gearing’s hooves.

As he’s walking down the hallway, he crosses a door that makes his Pipbuck scream as he’s passing it. He stops, spins around, and walks back up to the door as he says, “Well hellloooo there…” He tries the door and finds it held fast. “It’s locked…” He smiles widely as he says, “Considering they haven’t bothered with locking stuff behind them, I bet they hadn’t gotten into here.” He stares at it for a moment before he slowly starts looking around. “Did she have a Pipbuck? Or some other kinda radiation gauge?” He looks at the door lock again as he smirks. “If so, that’d explain why she didn’t mess with this door.” He looks at his Pipbuck as it rapidly clicks its displeasure.

He sits down on his haunches as he looks over the lock on the closet door. For some reason, it seems just a bit off to him. He can’t quite put his hoof on it. Almost like it doesn’t really belong here. Which just makes him want to get into it even more. He casually pulls out some of his tools from his saddle bag, and smiles as he says, “Lets see what you got…”

He starts working on it, and, in short order, his expression changes rapidly. The lock is far more complicated than he’d expected for a mere closet barrier. At first it’s surprising. But, after getting over that initial shock, it starts becoming frustrating. Then, after getting through that annoyance, and multiple broken bobby pins, he actually starts smiling around the tools as his expression becomes far more focused. Determined. And, strangely, out right enjoying himself.

Even more so when the last pin gets nudged into place and he lets out a satisfied groan as the lock’s cylinder rotates and signals its defeat. He leaves the door as it is, as he carefully puts his tools away. It’s been a little bit since he’s had such an annoying lock to deal with. So he wants to savor the win before unleashing whatever is on the other side of the door.

He carefully gets up, steps to the side a bit so he can look in without smacking himself in the face with the door, and slowly opens the door to see what he’s discovered.

Instantly the ticking on his Pipbuck picks up the pace to the point that it sounds like a minigun stuck firing, but has no ammo so it just keeps clicking instead.

‘Oh wow! Just feel that tingle!’ the little pegasus in his head comments as it looks in wide eyed at the interior.

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he checks his Pipbuck, and, yes, indeed, the magical radiation coming from the center of the room is such that a normal pony would have serious health issues just being in proximity for any real length of time. A poster on the inside of the door catches his eye, and he glances over it after opening the door up more.

The poster is an inventory control list. Showing who took what and when. With a string of dates and names that reminded Gearing of old library due date cards. But there at the top was a carefully written memo for whoever could read it.

‘Everypony,
Take extreme care when handling or transporting the materials for the experimental ammunition. Make sure to follow ALL procedures while doing so, or you might just end up killing yourself and everypony around you. If you don’t know what the correct procedures are, you aren’t supposed to be in this closet in the first place. If that applies to you, submit yourself to HR for immediate termination of your employment. Failure to do so will be considered espionage and then you’ll have to deal with the ministries.’

Gearing looks at it and smirks as he says, “Yeah, well… those don’t exist anymore… soooo… suck it!” He turns his head, pokes it inside the closet, and a grin covers his muzzle as he eagerly looks over the contents inside. Although the look of excitement quickly becomes one of confusion. He’d expected rows of cartons of the new experimental ammo. Maybe a couple weapons to fire said ammo. But, instead, the shelves on both sides have rows of cardboard boxes, crates, and other containers, and right in the middle of it all a big military grade crate had been broken open and seems to be leaking out through cracks in the side somewhere.

“‘BioMagical Flux Number thirteen’, huh…” Gearing quietly reads aloud from the side of the leaking container.

Gearing steps in and carefully examines the strange crate. From what he can see through the gaps it seems to be full of standard sized specimen containers, metallic cylinders designed to keep the contents safe from the outside world and vice versa. He leans over the compromised crate to see the back side where a small puddle of the rainbow liquid seems to have formed from leaking out of a pin hole in the back. And it only takes waving his Pipbuck in its direction to confirm that it’s the liquid itself that is making his Pipbuck have a riot on his foreleg. Gearing stares at the strangely colored fluid for a bit as he tries to ponder what it could possibly be. And, just as importantly, how it could be used in an experimental weapon. And, relatedly, why is it actually glowing.

‘Looks like industrial waste…’ the little pegasus in his head says as it flutters around the ominously glowing puddles in circles. ‘Colorful industrial waste at that… I wonder if it’s a mix of a bunch of things...’

“Yeah, but, how could that be used as an experimental weapon’s ammunition?” Gearing ponders out loud. His mind is already running through a variety of scenarios as he stares at the very unfriendly fluid.

The little pegasus in his head frowns at him as he asks, ‘Really?’

Gearing instantly scowls as he replies, “I was trying to think of a good reason… Something better than just using it as a toxic dirty-bomb of a weapon…”

The little pegasus in his head waves around at the container as he comments, ‘If it’s throwing off this much energy, just imagine how wide of an area could be made poisonous with an artillery round of the stuff… Proximity set for air burst would be a wide area denial weapon for sure.’

Gearing snarls. “And add in a high explosive yield with it, and it’d get even worse… Assuming the mix doesn’t combine in a chain reaction for an even bigger boom that is…”

The little pegasus zips back and forth as he asks, ‘What’s in the boxes?’

Gearing grabs one of the smaller wooden boxes from the stack along the side, and looks it over carefully. “Strange… this looks more like a gift box.” He opens it up, and can’t help but stare at the inside.

The wooden box has been cut such that it would snugly hold a very specific item. And it’s not hard to guess what that item is. A large caliber round of some kind. From the silhouette it looks to Gearing to be somewhere in the classification of a small artillery piece. He can’t help but wonder about if he had a weapon that could fire a caliber like that, if he’d be able to just use it like a rifle. Caliber wise and minus the evil materials they were using here that is. He starts checking the various smaller boxes, and finds all of the whole stack of them empty. Like they hadn’t even been used yet.

‘Should I be concerned that they felt the need to individually package each round like this? Just how unstable were these rounds?!’ the little pegasus asks with a worried frown.

“Well, the poster warns you could kill yourself and everyone around you if you fucked up, so that’s a bit of a clue…”

‘These all seem empty…’ the little pegasus says as he flutters around as Gearing goes box by box and determines the status of them all.

“Yeah… What’s in these other boxes?” Gearing mutters to himself as he grabs a briefcase off the right shelf. He opens it up and looks inside without any ceremony to it. And slowly a smile grows on his muzzle as his eyes twinkle.

The little pegasus flies around quickly as he asks, ‘Is that what I think it is? Please say yes!’

Gearing nods as he leans in close to the small pieces of stone that are inside of tiny glass sample boxes. “I think it is!”

‘Moon rocks! Actual moon rocks!’ the little pegasus squeals with delight. ‘I always wanted to have a collection of some! This makes up for missing the geology exhibit at the museum!’

Gearing slowly looks it over and his eyebrow raises as he asks, “But, how’d they get these? And sooooo much of it? It makes no sense…” He carefully closes the lid then replaces the suitcase where it was on the right shelf. He grabs a similar case from one of the left shelves, but the suitcase is empty. He checks all of the ones on the left, and finds that every single one of them have already been emptied. But, unlike the ones from the right, the glass boxes that he can clearly see where they go are missing as well. The last suitcase on the right is a bit harder for Gearing to grab, as it’s not actually on the shelf but on the side of it and on the far side of the shelf almost hidden behind everything else, but he does. And it’s much larger than the others. More like a metal reinforced attache case than the soft sided cases the others were.

He pulls it out into the hallway to look at it, and soon finds this one is actually locked.

“Challenge accepted!”

Gearing quickly pulls his tools out and gets to work.

But, it only takes him a few seconds to unlock it as it is so disappointingly lacking in complexity that he actually deflates a little at the realization that he’s already gotten it unlocked. This time he opens the case without ceremony by flicking it open as he’s putting his tools away. And can’t help but laugh when he looks in at what’s inside.

‘It’s like someone’s hidden snack stash,’ the little pegasus in his head comments with an amused smile on his muzzle.

Gearing starts sorting through the items, and can’t help agreeing that this has little to nothing to do with work. He holds up a box of Sugar Apple Bombs and smiles as he says, “Hey, this looks like one of those limited edition boxes… Still sealed… Couple other things in here too.”

He starts sifting through the case, removing the various snacks that have been crammed into the box, and at the bottom of it he finds a folder with some papers in it. And, of course, with the red text stamped across the side reading ‘Experimental’ and ‘Classified’ Gearing can’t help but immediately open it up and read what’s so important.

Despite what the folder had been marked, the vast majority of the papers inside of the folder read like personal correspondence. Mainly between a pair of mares in the building that seem to be having an affair of sorts. Why they would keep such incriminating evidence at work where it could be found -and thus them fired- he can’t understand. But not everyone is as paranoid as he is, and he can understand and respect that on some level. But, at the far bottom of the folder pile, was something other than detailed descriptions about who was going to lick whom where and when.

He pulls the paper out and can instantly tell that it was an official document. The paper type was even different if nothing else. The rest seemed like it had been pilfered from office printers, but this was more indicative of archived technical documents. He quickly starts going over the small diagram and information along the perimeter of the technical drawing in the center.

‘Judging by the dimensions, that sounds about right for the ammo that’s supposed to be in these boxes…’ the little pegasus comments as it sits on Gearing’s shoulder like a parrot and reads along with him.

“This reads like some sort of artillery shell… but this can’t be right. The diagram looks like it’s nested with various materials. And it doesn’t seem to have anything to control the detonation, so it would just… go off when it was fired… I don’t know what these materials are, they’re all coded… but... Apparently when that center part gets knocked out of suspension from whatever this stuff around it is, it’ll hit the case and… boom?”

‘What if it’s a directed weapon?’

“You mean like a shaped charge?” Gearing ponders aloud as he keeps looking the schematic over.

‘Yeah, like how we talked about doing with mines… but on a bigger scale.’

“But the formulas… The energy produced from such a small amount seems ridiculous. I don’t know a single material, nor combination, that has this kinda output by weight… And if the ignition chamber is to be believed, it’d basically be a bomb. But, judging from their phrasing they aren’t expecting that, they are expecting it to be able to be controlled and in one direction. Fuck… the amount of magical reinforcement that would be needed just to keep it from blowing up in the face of the user is ridiculous. Even I wouldn’t want to use this damn thing…” Gearing’s eyes go wide. “A blast funneled in a single direction… all of its destructive force thrown in the same direction…” He glances to the side and sees the leaking barrel. “And… if that stuff was mixed into the blast, the radiation would go along with it, soaking everything in the path with pure death…”

‘Anything in front of it would be fucked… fortifications… tanks… Hell, if you got the angle right you could probably take out entire battalions if they were lined up and you broadsided them… Depending on the power of the blast, that is.’

“A directed magical mechanical explosion soaked in toxic waste… What the hell could stand up to that? Even shields would-” Gearing stops and his eyes go wide slowly. “No… wait…” He looks down at the schematic, calculating the blast as much as he could based on the formulas scribbled around the margins, and gently he puts a hoof to his mouth. “Fuck… were they trying to kill Celestia and Luna?!”

The little pegasus flops down on the floor as it looks at him with his mouth agape.

Gearing nods as he looks at it. “Look… depending on how directed it is and its output… assuming this isn’t all just bullshit, this could punch through shields. And I mean slice right through them. I don’t even know if those alicorns shields would be able to hold up against such a concentrated ‘fuck you!’ this could unleash. And then there’s the radiation too, traveling at ridiculous speeds.” He looks around as he says, “Oh boy… if anyone saw this… the ministries would be all over this place like flies on shit…”

‘The Caesar would literally kill wholesale to get his hooves on this schematic… Let alone the supplies and the other documentation…’

“Bit of a moot point now, but you’re right,” Gearing comments as he folds up the schematic. He opens the box of sugar apple bombs, and shoves the folded up paper inside it before closing the box up again.

‘We’re not selling this.’

“No shit.”

‘Time to fog up the issue?’

Gearing quickly grabs the suitcase that still had stones in it, and dumps them out before replacing it. Then he does the same with the other cases, until he’s collected all of the little boxes, whether they have anything in them or not. He grabs the folder full of torrid correspondence and sets it on top of the leaking barrel. He puts the empty glass vials in the secret snack attache case, with the full ones being set aside with the rest of the snacks. After he’s sure he’s got all of the glass sample cases, he starts stepping on and crushing them. In short order the once snack filled attache case is now filled with small glass fragments and powder. After getting them sufficiently crumbled, he closes the case and sets it aside just outside the door. “I’ll dump this elsewhere… that way no one’s likely to get the contents and discover the materials by testing the residual dust and fragments.” He starts walking down the hall again as he comments, “The explosive force is potentially bad enough, but the world’s already poisoned enough… So this needs to be a prime scrubbing target…”

‘And if anyone asks about the moon rocks, you tell’em that you found a suitcase with a skeleton from some pony that worked at the Natural History Museum. No strings,’ the little pegasus chimes in.

“Mmhmm.”

Gearing continues his inventorying of the rooms, going one by one on the floor. But the next truly strange thing he runs into is in the office of some researcher. Gearing stops at the door, staring at the old plaque that declares who occupies the room, and can’t help tilting his head at the unexpected sight.

‘Dr. Trottenheimer

Research Lead’

“Trottenheimer,” Gearing murmurs as he stares at it. “Surely it can’t be…”

‘Wasn’t that the name of that scientist that worked for the Ministry of Arcane Science?’ The little pegasus in his head asks as it flutters up and stares at the plaque.

“Yeah… He’d written several rather brilliant papers on various topics… What would someone like that be doing here? Isn’t bullet manufacturing a bit below his caliber?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow.

‘Can’t be the same buck, right?’ the little pegasus asks as he hovers around the sign.

Gearing scrunches his face up a few times before shaking his head. “Can’t be. Don’t see why he’d demote himself like that… As interesting as guns are, Ironshod isn’t exactly cutting edge in the fields he seemed to like and excel in. This would be like making Octavia play a kazoo in a foal’s choir…” He shakes his head and continues on.

As Gearing is first stepping into the office from the hall, there’s a couple things that instantly grab his attention. The first being the hole in the wall, a nearly polished glossy omission in the fortified structure, that seems to lead out into the not-so-clear gray yonder. And the second is the skeleton collapsed in on itself by the desk. Seeing an ancient skeleton has become rather mundane to Gearing, as much as he hates to admit it. There’s just so many in so many places he’s been since waking up. It’s not that he doesn’t realize that each one represents a life extinguished. He does. He’s painfully aware of it. But since getting back from his failed attempt to get into the Core, they just have piled up so much that it’s hard for him to stop and think about each one anymore. Except notable outliers.

Like the ancient corpse in front of him.

Gearing scoots around the desk and looks the skeleton over very carefully. And, as such, also looks over at the hole in the wall. He stares at them intently, looking back and forth, and even grabs a pencil off the floor to get a trajectory from the hole. He looks on the other side of the skeleton, and takes careful note of the general lack of damage. He looks from the skeleton, of a unicorn buck, to the relatively undisturbed condition of the wall. And he stoops down and sways side to side as he looks at the strangely perfectly cut hole in the wall. Until he finds the angle that makes it perfectly aligned: straight through this wall, through the office next door, and out the outer wall on the other side of that office. He replaces his vision with the pencil, and has it pointing along the same axis, holding it there with a wing as he leans back and starts looking around the area where he’s standing. And then, he looks down. And the answer seems eerily obvious to him.

“Someone shot him from here? What kind of weapon could have done this…?” He stoops down and starts looking over the corpse again. And, the more he looks at it the more disturbing it seems to him.

Being a clockwork, he’s always been used to ‘normal’ ponies being far more squishy than he is. More flexible. More malleable. After all, his parts are made from solid brass. But, that only takes one’s logic so far. It doesn’t explain, in the least, why the skeleton at his hooves seems to have part of it practically melted. Bones are, at least to a small extent, flexible. But only to a small extent. Normally. And bones are composed of minerals, mainly calcium, so they don’t just melt when heated. They get hot, they get brittle. And then they either crumble to dust or completely combust. They don’t warp like a candle that’s been left in the window of a closed up vehicle on a hot day.

But that’s exactly how this poor buck’s skull looks. Especially with a hole clean through it that looks like someone took a red hot coin and dropped it onto styrofoam making it simply melt clean through it.

Gearing can’t help but grimace as he’s looking at the skull with the weird hole in it and a whole slew of scenarios play out before his mind’s eyes. “I really hope it killed you quickly as it did that…”

‘You don’t think it was that experimental weapon do you?’ the little blue pegasus asks as it hovers around and looks the body over. ‘The name is the same that was on that poster in the storage closet now that I think about it…’

Gearing frowns as he can’t help but realize the connection points.

He walks over and runs a hoof over the hole in the wall, and takes note of the perfect hole cut straight through the reinforced materials. “It ate right through it like a hot knife through butter.”

‘More like obliterated everything in its path… there’s no rubble on the ground, you see?’ the little pegasus comments as it points at the ground, and the lack of concrete chunks.

Gearing stares at it for a moment before he says quietly, “If that’s what did it, and it did that to his body-” He snaps his attention to the corpse. “It really could have taken out the princesses… maybe…”

‘Too bad it didn’t get into the right hooves and do exactly that, and prevent this whole fuck up.’ The little pegasus in his head grumps bitterly.

“No,” Gearing replies flatly. “No one should have something like this. Look what it did to their body? If you’re gonna kill someone, at least make sure it’s clean. Not, whatever this did.” He leans in and starts looking the hole over a bit more and narrows his eyes. “Wait a second…” He takes the pencil and puts it into the hole, then starts dragging it around the inside edge as he’s looking at the pencil.

‘Uh… is it just me… or is that making a dish?’ the little pegasus comments as he stares at it.

Gearing quickly pulls out another pencil, and puts it along the top of the hole while putting the other at the bottom. He leans back and looks at it, and nods as he slowly directs his head to the right and looks towards where he thinks the shot came from. After some back and forth, and judging by the angle of the shot Gearing steps over the skeleton, and stands near the desk again. He puts a hoof in the air, and holds it up as he says softly, “It makes a conical shape… and the focus comes from right here. But with it being so close to the wall…”

‘He shot himself? But… Why? And where’s the weapon that did it then?’ the little pegasus comments as it flutters around.

Gearing looks to the side and notices that the computer is already unlocked, and he quickly starts reading through whatever is available. Which turns out to mainly be a series of personal entries. Afterwards he leans against the desk with his head buried in one of his hooves as he groans.

The little pegasus sits on the desk, still staring at the computer monitor, as it comments, ‘Well… that was fucking depressing.’

Gearing slowly moves his hoof and looks down at the skeleton at his hooves. “So, you’re really Doctor Trottenheimer. Obviously you got into some trouble if you were worried about MoM. Sounds like this ‘G.B.’ got you into some serious trouble and that’s how you ended up here. And whatever you were working on ended up poisoning you. Whatever that ‘Flux’ crap is, it certainly is dangerous and it sounds like it’s worse than simple radiation. I’m surprised that there’s as much stuff here as there is here if you’ve been raided by MoM. Sounds more like they were just looking for more dirt on someone else than really focusing on you.” He straightens up as he smiles. “But, if they didn’t get the rounds that were in this fabricator of yours, I wonder if the fabricator is still here too…”

Gearing gingerly steps around the slumped over skeleton as he comments, “Hope you don’t mind, but I intend on putting some of your manufacturing goodies to good use… Take it easy, Doctor.” He doesn’t even bother checking the obviously already looted open safe in the corner of the office on the way out.

The little pegasus flutters around Gearing’s head as it squeals with joy, ‘Time to find the real treasures in here!’

Gearing leaves Trottenheimer’s office feeling more conflicted than before. Having powerful weapons is something he needs. But, at the same time, there’s a limit to things that should be in someone’s hooves. Not just ponies. There’s a limit to what should exist in his reckoning. Balefire missiles and Megaspells were on his list of ‘shouldn’t exist’ even before he was proven right via apocalypse. And this weapon, as far as he can see so far, is a weapon that really shouldn’t be a thing. His only consolation is that the ammo seems to be extremely hard to make, extremely unstable if not stored properly, and because of that: rare beyond practical use. And if he has his way, no more rounds will ever be made again.

Being experimental, and having even the manufacturing supplies locked on a secure floor and hidden away, lets Gearing know that they probably didn’t make very many rounds for whatever monstrosity they had made here. Although, that does make him curious about what else they have hidden up their sleeves around this place. Not to mention where that functional disaster of a weapon had gone, since it wasn’t with the body. If it had been claimed by the mare that had cleared the way here, he’s pretty sure he’ll hear about it. And maybe he can get it from them. Without ammo it’s going to be pretty useless, thankfully, but he doesn’t want there being enough crumbs to start reverse engineering more. He’s pretty sure the world can’t handle much more of that kind of wanton poison fueled destruction. So he makes his way through the complex, going down again, until he finds a server room in the basement that seems to be still fully functional.

Gearing walks into the server room, and smiles as he sees all of the old equipment. Even more so as the terminal seems to be already unlocked, open, and with a blinking cursor that seems to be cheerily waving to him to come and have a look see.

And, not wanting to be rude to the pleasant machine, Gearing does just that.

He quickly hops on and, doing what he normally does, checks the logs to see who has been on recently. And, sure enough, he finds where someone has accessed the system, unlocked it, and downloaded a decently large collection of files from it. So, because one good swipe deserves another, he goes ahead and downloads the exact same set of files. After all, if someone paid someone to come and get the data, then, it would logically track, there’s someone who sees the information as valuable. And if they do, others might as well.

Him being the ‘others’ in this case.

And after that file is done, he starts snooping through the other files as well. And, in his snooping for more easily transportable goodies to swipe, he finds the location of an area within the building that he oh so very much wants to get into. All thanks to a random memo from one researcher to an intern on how to get to his office to bring him his coffee and breakfast.

Although, Gearing runs into a problem as he’s trying to get some of the files. The terminal is working, but the connections to the data storage of some of the files seem broken. He checks on the system and walks around to check the maneframe’s connections, only to find that the maneframe has been cracked open, and seems to be missing several components from it. The terminal could access some of it as a dummy terminal, but the lion’s share of it isn’t accessible that way because the maneframe is partially disassembled. Whoever salvaged from it seemed to want a bunch of the primary processing parts of it for it’s functionality, but not the data core sections where the data is actually stored. Which makes Gearing’s eye twitch a few times as he tries to figure out how to get the data off of the system without the rest of the system. Refusing to just give up, especially since he’s pretty sure there is going to be a lot more good data on the system, Gearing starts jury-rigging a bridge between the terminal, his Pipbuck, and what’s left of the maneframe. It takes him a bit of work, and a lot of swearing and finagling, but he finally manages to get a connection good enough to look at the data on the maneframe. But, after transferring a few more files from the system, he comes to the realization that he doesn’t want to sit down here sorting through all of this at the moment. So he disconnects his Pipbuck from the bridge setup he’d made, and quickly pulls the data cores themselves out of the maneframe. He slides the cubic shaped pieces of technology onto the floor as he’s putting his tools away and smiles as he looks at them. “Okay, I’ll root around in your noggin once we’re back at the stable. Besides, another maneframe level data core would always be helpful. A present for Nettlekiss, maybe.” He stows the blocky gizmo and quickly heads out of the basement.

Following the instructions in the file, Gearing heads to and walks around the fourth floor trying to find the area that the memo had directed the intern to. But, it takes a bit. And he’s embarrassed to admit it. But, to get his bearings, he finds the one stairwell that the memo told the intern to take, and then just starts going from there. As he’s going, he notices that there is one area that seems to have a growing number of red markers again. And, he progresses slowly. But, after a few twists and turns, Gearing comes to a secure door that looks like it’s designed to keep not only that which is out, out, but that which is already in, in. The doors have a set of mag locks, but then also have built in reinforced cross bars and a few pins that go into the ground walls and ceiling. Gearing looks the doors over carefully as he tries to figure out how to get in.

A smile crosses his muzzle as he says, “If they went through this much to get it and keep it sealed, it must mean the real goodies are beyond this door.” He reaches up and taps on the door lightly as he contemplates how best to get in. He doesn’t see a terminal that he can hack. There looks to be a spot for a key card of some kind, but he doesn’t have one and doesn’t have the equipment on him needed to fake a correct RFID signature. And while he does have the building’s maneframe data core on him, he doesn’t have access to it to find nor add himself to the roster with it. And after thinking about it he really hopes the maneframe he plundered was the one for research and they did the smart thing and have their security system on a separate system that has yet to be compromised.

‘Got enough boom to make a hole wherever the hell we want… Could blow a hole from the bottom, or the roof for that matter… Take your pick.’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head offers reasonably.

Gearing frowns as he shakes his head. “Nah, don’t wanna do that. If this is as sealed up tight as this seems it is, then I don’t want to risk fucking shit up on the inside. Besides, remember what that poster said? They were working with shit that didn’t take kindly to being mishandled. And a massive explosion with rubble getting thrown everywhere is the perfect fuck up that could cause a chain reaction and level the whole floor. And, frankly, I’d rather not have my head caved in by another collapsing building. Thank you very much.”

‘Well, then what are we going to do? We want the equipment out of there, don’t we?’

Gearing nods as he replies, “Damn right we do… But, I think I’ll use one of my tried and true methods.”

‘Such aaaaaas?’

“If you don’t have proper access… make proper access…” Gearing comments as he opens his Pipbuck and starts snooping through files. “Now, I’ve been here before, but I didn’t get very far. But, they did leave me in that meeting room, alone, for waaaay too long. So me snooping through their systems wirelessly is a given… Naturally.”

‘Naturally,’ the little pegasus agrees with a giggle.

“Now I didn’t get into any of their real systems, I didn’t want them getting pissy at me and shooting me. That’d suck. But I did do some friendly knocking on a few ports… And sniffed up some low hanging fruit from the network. If I’m right, they should have a maintenance room not far from here. Shared with one of the network guys, if I recall correctly…”

He turns around and starts looking at the other rooms' entryways, and, not long after, he finds another nondescript door like the one that had the leaking container in it on the lower floors. But, this one is unlocked. He slides it open and finds what can only be described as a rat’s nest of an office.

The little pegasus has his hair fray out in a variety of directions as he points at it. ‘What in Tartarus is this?!’

Gearing slowly steps in, starting to step over a variety of boxes and equipment, and quickly looks around. And, while it is full of crap, most of it actually makes sense. To Gearing at least. And probably only because he’s in the center of the overlap of the strange Venn diagram that includes both tech professional, and actual maintenance technician. “They crammed everything in here for both the maintenance guy and their network techs… I see a lot of supplies… and old equipment… Lots of old equipment…” He peeks under a shelf and his jaw drops as he exclaims. “Some of these are first generation switches, what the hell?! Why would they keep this?!”

The little pegasus flutters around as he looks over the various equipment. ‘Wow… this… this is crazy… Some of this was ‘retro’ before the bombs dropped!’

“Yeah, it was. So much so that I could have sold some of these to collectors for a pretty bit… Easily.”

‘I wonder if it’s worth anything now…’

“Besides cannibalizing them for basic components, not likely. Outside of collectors…” He looks over at the door and frowns. “Unless they have some really outdated equipment here and needed to keep these as replacements because they were too cheap and stupid to completely upgrade their systems… I really hope that’s not the case…”

‘Well, that’s all good and well then, but, how are we going to get into the real goodies… Gonna grab that torch and cut your way in?’ the little pegasus asks as it flutters around and points out a torch that seems like it might actually be in working condition as it sits in a crate under the overloaded workbench.

Gearing shakes his head as he looks around. “No, I’m looking for their terminal. If they can give me a view at the functionality of the door, I can probably get it to open by cracking open a panel and using a manual override… or I might be able to hack the circuitry and make it ground fault and trigger it to open… or I might be able to get the access panel card reader to send a false positive to let me in… or-”

‘Or you could just use either the maintenance crew’s master key or the Network Administrator’s access pass,’ the little pegasus in his head comments.

“Well sure I could do that too if I had it, but-”

The little pegasus in his head hits him a few times on the side of his head, and then flutters over by the computer monitor near the middle of one wall.

Gearing carefully steps around more of the garbage in the office, and stretches out a wing towards what his little head companion is pointing out. “That can’t be. Right?”

He grabs the cloth lanyard hanging from the nail that’s been banged into the wall, and pulls it back to himself with one wing. And with his other wing he slides a plastic card off the table from where it was peeking out from under the keyboard for the computer on the workbench. Gearing holds them up in front of his muzzle, and his eyes dart back and forth for a few moments. Completely disbelieving what he’s seeing.

He waves them around and yells up at the ceiling. “What the hell?! Why. Why? Why?! Why is this sitting here? Only a few paces away from the most secure door I’ve seen thus far in this building?! Why?!” He looks at the card that was under the computer keyboard and glares at the smiling face of the buck that’s on it. “And you! You should know better! What the hell were you thinking?! Why would you fucking do this!? Anyone could just waltz in here and swipe your card and just walk into the highly restricted research and development sector. The place where a monster of a weapon was being developed. Something so unstable they had to keep the materials to make the ammo far away from it otherwise some dumbass might just kill everyone in the building accidentally! Why?! Whyyyyy?! This is ridiculous, you know that?! Anyone could have just taken this and strolled their happy ass right in there. I know! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do, Mister ‘Network Master’! The hell is wrong with you?! I hope they weren’t paying you much!”

He shakes his head as he walks over towards the terminal. “Nah, you know what, this is too easy. I’m going to see what I can find on the terminal to explain this. Maybe find a way to get in. Might take more than just the card… Two factor authentication maybe? Maybe the passwords in here… Wait, there was no keypad…”

He plops himself down in front of the computer terminal and starts stretching as he angrily demands, “Make it make sense!”

Footnote:

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Sector Discovered, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

!!!ERROR!!! Synchronization Failed…

91 No Joy Land

164 tries.

It took Gearing 164 tries to get into the locked terminal. One of the most frustrating system breeches he has ever had to orchestrate, and it was for a ‘lowly’ under-appreciated system tech and a maintenance buck. An act that made him start carefully reevaluating his assumptions about the buck in question. One that drew genuine respect from Gearing on a personal level. Even if he was still confused by the juxtaposition of the careful password discipline versus the seemingly careless placement of critical access cards. But, after managing to perform a minor miracle and getting in, things started making way more sense to him, and quickly at that.

Once inside, Gearing gained access to the messaging system that was used to do both maintenance and technical support tickets, along with interoffice communications involving the two. He didn’t spend much time on the ticketing system, just enough to verify what it was, and learned nothing from them except that some ponies were really bad at remembering their passwords. Comically so.

The messages between offices provided far more information. Through them he’d learned that the ‘Network Master’ -the official job title- named Copper Quarts was only a relatively recent replacement for an older buck that had done initial installs of equipment and had kept updating everything as demanded by the upper office. Copper also had an antagonistic relationship with the majority of the ones in charge within the building because, as he would say, and Gearing quickly agrees with, they did not know what they were doing and should not be making the decisions that they were. He had fought them at every opportunity to shore up security better, but they were apparently so ego driven that they did not want to listen to him. Copper had even argued with the HR, bravely at that, asking them what was the point in hiring a professional if they weren’t going to listen to them.

Copper Quarts had been basically told to shut up and enjoy his paycheck.

In those messages Gearing also learned that the pile of retro equipment had multiple purposes to them. First it was because certain members of management were cheap beyond belief. They didn’t want to get rid of ‘functioning’ equipment, regardless of how out of date it became. So there was actually some retro and legacy equipment still installed in various places within the complex. Second, the equipment stockpile acted as backups for some that were still in service. Because many had already ceased to be manufactured by then, so replacements would have been hard to impossible to get.

Gearing also learned through the messages between Copper, who went by CQ when talking with the maintenance buck named Peach Seed, and Peach Seed that they were constantly at their wits end with the incompetence of the management team. Even the maintenance buck, an old timer that grew up before guns were even thought of and preferred to be called ‘Seedy’, couldn’t understand them. So it wasn’t a generational situation. But one of the fruits of their conversation labors was Seedy suggesting they keep all of the leftover equipment in the maintenance room with them. Because it would look so busy that it’d keep most of the nosy managers out. Another benefit was the job security the junk provided them as any sane pony coming in for a potential interview would see the horde, bristle their mane, and run for the hills as fast as their hooves would take them. Plus they could use it as added ‘security’ by hiding their credentials within the messy room.

That’s right, the very thing that had Gearing fuming, the placement of the security cards, was not the fault of the two bucks, but was a direct result of moronic management. Somewhere along the line the rules were changed and anally enforced saying that all Ironshod property had to be left on site at the end of the day. And while that sounds normal, certain new managers pushed it to the limits to even include absolutely everything owned by the company.

IDs included.

They had to leave their IDs at their stations at the end of their work day. By company policy. And that fact caused dozens of messages worth of ranting and back and forth between Copper, HR, and various members of management. Copper took exceptional issue with the policy only apparently really being enforced on certain individuals, mainly him and Seedy, instead of everyone. But, predictably, he was summarily overwritten at every single turn. So the pair of bucks, not being short-sighted idiots, tried a little security through obscurity, by hiding the cards in their office, which was crammed full of dirty dusty equipment that no one would want to snoop through. Because the micromanaging managers had a habit of snooping around and messing with stuff they shouldn’t even be around let alone touching. So their dirty cramped rats nest of an office became the safest place in the whole building for their credentials. They kept the door to the maintenance room locked up, which was enough to deter most snoops, but the real security was the pile of dusty crap that surrounded the entire room and would make it nearly impossible for anyone to really search it and find anything useful enough to harm the company yet quick enough that they wouldn’t get found out. Most espionage folks would be aiming elsewhere once getting a single look at their office. Not Gearing though, obviously, and he feels bad and actually apologizes for his little tantrum he threw at the two.

After all of the nonsense that Gearing read, which gave him both second hand embarrassment and indignant rage, he realized Copper and Seedy had simply done the best that they could with what they had and the situation they were in. And he can’t help but smile as one of the messages mentions Copper documenting everything, so that if shit hits the fan, he can save his own flank by handing the documents over to the government and throwing the incompetent managers under the wagon.

And then there was the disaster just waiting to happen that concerned Copper the most. And, from what Gearing’s been able to see, Copper was nearly prophetic in how correct his predictions had ultimately been.

When the company had upgraded their security, to include combat capable robots and turrets, Copper was left out of the loop entirely. In a move that baffles Gearing to no end, the ‘tech buck’ had been forbidden from having anything to do with it. That it was all under the Security Chief, and not the one who was in charge of the actual network. The higher ups had fallen hook line and sinker by the sales pitches of Robronco’s salesponies about how great the system was. Which, even Copper agreed, had tremendous potential. But his sticking point was that the system would need to be tuned, and the robots tailored to work within the Research and Development building itself. He railed against keeping the settings at their defaults. And he’d gotten nowhere because of the bucks who were stuck in their ways. Not getting anywhere with the management, Copper went behind their backs and taught the security chief how to manage the system. But even that only got him so far. He predicted an absolute horrifying disaster. Copper was terrified that something horrible would happen, some incursion or the war coming knocking on their doors, and then the security system would go live, and all of the defenses would turn on. Because he was absolutely sure that the system’s Friend or Foe settings, by default, would make them target everyone. Especially if they didn’t have their security badges with them.

A fact that made Copper sick as he pointed out the company policy about leaving badges behind when leaving. So much so that he’d conferred with Seedy and they’d agreed that if anything went sideways, they’d immediately abandon the building because they didn’t want to get ashed by the very security system that was supposed to be protecting them.

When Gearing got done reading, he’d simultaneously not learned much useful, but also did. He learned a lot about the company and the interoffice conflicts at the time, for long dead ponies. But also was clued in to the inner workings of the security system, and is certain he can exploit it to his full advantage.

As he’s getting up from the terminal to leave, his mental companion comments, ‘Based on what we read in Dr. Trottenheimer’s logs about why he couldn’t leave his office, I’d say Copper’s predictions about how things would go were dead on target. Pun intended.’

“Yeah,” Gearing agrees as he’s heading towards the door. “They really should have listened to their I.T. No telling how many lives could have been saved if they weren’t so anal.” As he’s going through the doorway back into the hallway, he stops and looks at the door. “Though, I can’t help but wonder… If he was so much of a stickler for hiding the ID keys, and keeping this door locked, even when he took a quick piss break, why was the door unlocked when I got here? Assuming no one’s managed or bothered to get this far that is…”

‘Maybe when him and Seedy took off, they said ‘fuck it’ and had bigger things to worry about at the time?’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head offers.

“Hmmm… Maybe,” Gearing mutters before continuing on to his target. “Let’s see if these’ll get us through that ridiculous door.”

Gearing strolls up to the set of security doors and then first tries the IT card, but it doesn’t seem to work on the access panel that’s connected to the door. So he goes ahead and clips it onto his saddle bag, before using the card hanging from the lanyard on the access panel. And Gearing has extremely mixed feelings as the door actually opens up for him. As each pin slides out of the floor, and the bars retract to their standby positions, Gearing’s eyes get progressively narrower. “This is ridiculous…”

Gearing stands there looking at it, and after the door opens, he slowly trots into the area as he comments, “Maintenance gets access, but not the tech buck? What a crock.”

Gearing carefully starts sneaking around in the enclosed work area of Ironshod after the security doors automatically shut behind him again. The equipment in this area is not meant for mass production. It’s meant for more custom pieces. For testing, retesting, breaking, fixing, redesigning, and, apparently, hopefully producing a new piece of kit that can be used. A piece that’s enough of an improvement over other options that those in charge of funding would actually spend money on its development and future distribution.

And, oddly enough, in most of the area there aren’t nearly as many robots for security as he’d expected. The few he has to deal with, while annoying, really weren’t up to snuff for stopping a real intrusion. Though, he suspects, that had more to do with the expectation that the security in the rest of the building would be helping to thin the numbers, and that in the cases of dealing with volatile chemicals and armaments, having robots go ‘weapons free’ in close proximity wouldn’t be the best choice considering what might happen because of errant shots. During his exploration trip to verify the number and type of threats, he’d simply snuck around most of them and only took out those that he felt were too troublesome for their own good.

As he’s snooping, he finds a mail bag near an uncomfortably familiar looking pile of ash, and empties its contents out onto the floor. Sure, the few things inside might be useful to someone sometime. Probably especially the poor individual reduced to dust a few feet away. But today Gearing needs to use it for something else. So he doesn’t need the old junk of the violently cremated.

Except the small coin purse he finds as he’s kicking things around. He couldn’t miss that tell tale jingle of golden currency.

“Hey, bits are bits,” Gearing comments as he quickly pockets the purse and smiles as his PipBuck informs him of the exact amount of old money he just collected.

‘You really DO sound like a whore, you know that?’ the little pegasus in his head comments with a giggle.

Having emptied the bag, and trying to ignore the harassment by his mental companion, Gearing scurries around and starts grabbing every hard copy of schematics he can find along the way. He’d like to catalog them, and organize them, and then digitize them so he can keep them to himself. But he doesn’t have time for that currently.

But, thanks to the miracle of Stable-tec technology, his PipBuck takes care of the vast majority of that itself. Providing him with a nice organized list of everything he’s pilfering from the place. Whether it’s a workbench, table, or standard office desk, none are safe enough to keep his snooping from nabbing schematics, diagrams, and notes. Regardless of how finished they may or may not be. He’ll go over all of it later, and sort it then. Now he’s more on a time crunch so it’s far more efficient to simply grab and go. After checking the whole work area, each of the different separate sub areas too, and making sure he has all the hard copies he can carry, he can’t help but realize that none of the things he’s grabbed seem to have anything to do with the monster weapon he’d found the ammunition materials for. On some level, he’d expected to find it in the work area. Maybe behind some kind of shield and held aloft by levitation magic like a holy relic to some god of death and destruction. But, no. Not a single bit of information could be found about it so far. However, when he looks into the computer systems he notices a few irregularities that jump out to him. The room has its own mini manufacturing equipment, much to Gearing’s gallons of drool worth of delight. But, one of the machines he’s noticed has a milling set up that’s a bit out of character for most of what he’d expect. Not from what is currently set up for, no. It’s in the spare parts next to it. He checks and finds that there are cutting heads that have been set aside, and not currently being used. But, the designation for them, and the note attached to them that states they are for making a certain sized shell body gives him a chill in between his shoulders that he wasn’t expecting.

And then, when looking into the computer systems, a few more things start making more sense.

Through his cyber snooping, Gearing discovers a series of memos where they’re discussing the Ministry of Morale showing up and confiscating a wide range of information and data. He learns that all mentions of a certain experimental weapon had been removed from the systems. And Gearing can’t help but frown as the obviously worried ponies recommended to each other that it would be best to not even talk about it at all. Because of what might end up happening to them just for catching MoM’s attention. And in a particularly feverishly sent string of messages he notices one mare in particular practically raving about how it was all because Goldenblood had been arrested and how he was being investigated for treason. And she further postulated that since Trottenheimer was a known associate of Goldenblood’s, that the ministry started looking into him too. Multiple of the mare’s coworkers added in how MoM also seemed unhealthily interested in the weapon he was working on, because they think he was making it to try and kill the Princesses. A fact that Gearing feels a bit of deja vu with as he’d thought the same thing from just what he’d learned about it earlier. Though they admitted that might very well just have been an excuse they were using to justify expanding their searches.

Gearing shakes his head as he lets out a long gush of air. “Wow… yeah… so… I wasn’t the only one who thought that… I hope you didn’t like your mind because if MoM really thought you were trying to kill the princesses you’d lose it pretty quickly…” And then he gets a bit of a surprise when he finds out that despite the microscope attention they’d put on Trottenheimer, they didn’t actually take his weapon. They took a couple rounds of the ammunition he’d made, as evidence and study, but left him with the weapon. And Gearing can’t help but snicker as he learns the reasoning had to do with not depriving a research and development company of the equipment it was making. That it’d be bad for the war effort. And Gearing hypothesizes that the true reason for it was that they were never really after Trottenheimer. They were looking for and wanted more ammo against Goldenblood. That he’d been such an all encompassing target that Trottenheimer wasn’t seen as a co-conspirator, but as a simple source of information to be used against Goldenblood. A fact that Gearing and his mental companion agree was fortuitous for the Doctor.

‘Goldenblood, that’s the ‘GB’ that Trottenheimer mentioned… He’s also Blueballs’ bastard child,’ the little blue pegasus comments thoughtfully.

“Evidence had to be hardcore to stick it to him, if even his slimy ass dad couldn’t get him out of it with how slippery that fucker was.”

‘Goldenblood didn’t strike me as someone falling far from the apple tree… Always felt just as slimy to me as his dad. But more in the ‘typical noble shit’ of trying to kiss up to those in power for their own gain.’

“Fucker seemed to be a master of backroom deals for sure,” Gearing mumbles.

‘And with how connected he was, how many lives were turned upside down when he got nailed?’ the little pegasus asks rhetorically with a frown.

As he’s mindlessly thinking about what could have happened to anyone involved, he keeps snooping through the terminals, and finds the researchers’ shared server where various documents and schematics are being held. And, with a growing smile on his face, he goes ahead and starts downloading anything and everything he can find that might have anything to do with weapons manufacture onto his PipBuck. And that’s a lot.

Once he’s done with that, and licking his lips at the possibilities, he turns his sights onto the physical world.

Unlike what he’d hoped, there’s not a massive arsenal of weaponry hidden in here just waiting for the plundering. No wagon load of boom. No cart load of flank kicking tools. He finds the main security office for the building, along with a small armory to go with it. But it’d already been cleared out, and long ago judging by the dust buildup on the open and empty weapon racks. Which is not only disappointing, but another puzzle for him. Because as he’d snooped around, he’d noticed the place had already seemed to have been ransacked and looted. But, whoever had gone through every single desk, drawer, cabinet, file sorter, box, purse or bag, wasn’t going for weapons or other valuables it seems. He’s found plenty of ammo laying around, which he plans to gather later, along with the classified documents and the bits he’d grabbed. So whatever they were after, it’s not something he’d normally think about given the location. And then there were the various vending machines he’d walked past. Seeing broken vending machines was nothing new to him. But the ones here had been broken into and their contents stolen with a variety of methods. A couple with a simple crowbar. One of which still had said crowbar embedded in the metal. Others had been broken into using some kind of torch that melted the lock into molten slag to get them open. It’s like there was the weirdest riot he’d ever heard of with nothing of apparent value really being taken. He’s even found quite a few more bits among the emptied purses scattered around.

And it’s while picking up another small coin purse to add to his collection, and wondering what he’s going to or can do with the bits, that he has an epiphany. He wonders why whoever looted the place didn’t simply take the money and use the bits to buy the vending machines out if they wanted the contents and didn’t care about the bits. And that’s when the realization hits him. Throughout the entire secure manufacturing area there’s one thing he hasn’t found. He slowly looks around again as he runs his entire quick patrol path through his mind's eyes again, with the little pegasus in his head helping him confirm.

He hasn’t found a single bite of food since walking through the secure doors. No Sugar Apple Bombs, no Fancy Buck’s Snack Cakes, of any kind. No chips. No popcorn. No nuts. Not a candy bar. Not so much as a single stick of gum. Nothing edible at all. Which weirds him out now that he’s thinking about it. He knows office ponies well enough. Even and especially researchers. They always keep food and snacks around them because quite often they’d get too engrossed in their work and simply want something close by to eat quickly so they could get back at it. Like that stash he found in the radioactive closet. So even the kitchenette in the break room having nothing but dishes on it’s shelves is a weird flag for him. As Gearing’s thinking about it, he realizes even the condiments are missing. The little organizers for the sugar, salt, and creamer were completely empty. And he’s not quite sure what the entire category of loot being missing will mean for him and this trip. Since that wasn’t what he came here for anyway, and he’d most likely have other more higher priority items to take anyway. So no food isn’t really a problem, as long as it’s not an indication of some other problem that he’ll actually have to deal with.

But, there are tools. Lots of tools. And a few weapons. Some of which are in various stages of assembly and he’s not even sure if they would even be functional if they were completed. And he’s more than willing to play with some three dimensional puzzles, but that’ll require a lot of time and space. Not to mention actually testing, which will have to be done far enough away that if they accidentally blow up they won’t hurt anyone.

Thankfully Gearing has one giant test bed rifle range known as ‘the wasteland’ to do exactly that without having to worry about anything important getting destroyed. Because nearly everything important has already been left a crumbling ruin.

Gearing quickly scurries around from workbench to workbench as he mentally compiles a list on what he should prioritize as he goes. Along the way of snooping and plotting, he comes across an area that doesn’t have any active robots anymore. In fact, he can see the remnants of a couple that had been destroyed and moved out of the way long ago. Additionally there are tell tale signs of turrets that had also been obliterated some time in the distant past. And as much as that might normally raise his curiosity, that’s not what draws his attention the most this time. It’s the fact that he has stumbled across a giant metal mesh cage taking up apparently one corner of a room and inset into the wall slightly. Like so many that he’s seen before. But this one has a large sign on the metal mesh declaring it ‘Testing Grounds’. And the sight of the armory cage makes the eyes of his little head companion sparkle at the possibilities. Most of what’s around the outside of the cage is mundane in the office setting. There’s a few tables, and a couple chairs, but there’s several of the office file style boxes stacked up against a low counter cabinet combination not far away that he makes a note to snoop through soon. But it doesn’t take long before his excitement makes his eyes jump over to the armory cage, and what it contains, at least what he can see from this side of the mesh.

Of everything that’s in here, there are a few weapons that at least look to be functional. Like they’ve made it far enough past the design phase that they made it into the trial phase of the pipeline. Gearing looks over the couple of weapons that are actually being stored in the adjoining room. Though he does find it strange that the mesh armory cabinets that make up the one wall are all open with what goods they have on full display with nothing hindering anyone from taking them. The security mesh around the small display area seems more to be for keeping accidents from harming the prototypes, than for anything else. Which, given that everyone that has access to this room would also have access to that small security cage, there’s not much reason for additional security he admits. And, hilariously to Gearing, in the worst ways possible, Gearing finds the door to the metal mesh armory cage is not even entirely closed. So whether it was locked or not was a moot point. He heads into the small cage, careful to put a box in the way of the door to keep it from swinging shut on him once he is on the inside, and he starts looking the various weapons over more closely.

The pair on the wall draw his attention. Especially what looks to be a fully automatic shotgun of some sorts. With the extra components of it, his mind can’t help but make comparisons to a minigun. Though the barrel diameter is rather large for that, and it just doesn’t look quite right. Gearing carefully picks it up, and notices its heft, as he starts looking the various parts over and begins conjecturing about what the thick portion around where the action portion could be for. And his eyes trail over to what looks like an ammo feed line from an autocannon which just makes him ask even more questions.

In Gearing’s peripheral vision he can see his PipBuck put a name to the item he’d picked up. And, again, just answers a question by giving him more to ask.

IF-88-M Experimental Added

“I wonder what the dash ‘M’ stands for…” Gearing mutters as he looks over the weapon and right below where it had been stored. His eyes trail over the various ammo magazines, all of which he’s familiar with. He sets the weapon back on its rack and grabs one of the blocky magazines. He turns it over, gives it an appraising eye, and quickly confirms it to be for a combat shotgun. He quickly looks over the others as well, and, again, confirms they all seem to be for shotgun shells. After he lifts up one of the drum magazines, he notices some papers that had been weighted down with it, and quickly grabs them to read. He skims over it, and the more he reads the bigger the smile on his muzzle gets.

He carefully sets the paper back down as he looks up at the mutant combat shotgun. “Multirole? A shotgun that has a modified action to take multiple inputs? And the ability to interface with a PipBuck system to switch ammo types on the fly?! With being able to accept multiple magazine types or just straight up using an ammo feed belt?” He carefully raises a hoof towards it and gently strokes the barrel and then pats the butt end of it a couple times. “Damn you are sexy…” He chuckles a bit before he says, “I gotta watch saying something like that, because Sable might get jealous…” He tilts his head before he says softly, “I bet she’d probably get better use out of it than me anyway… Just gotta make sure these notes are right and it’s functional and I don’t have to tweak the design any more…”

Gearing, after managing to tear his eyes away from all of the candy, looks over to the side and notices that around the lip of the wall there is actually another door. One that goes into the reinforced wall. A door that makes his grin jump that much bigger as he reads the sign above the door.

Experimental Test Range

Gearing noisily licks his lips as he stares at the door. “Oh, helloooo there, you delicious looking hors d’oeuvres you…” Gearing trots over and tries the door. And, annoyingly, finds it locked. He pulls and tugs a few more times. But, the door doesn’t yield. Granted, he’s not using anywhere near his full strength, but he’s really not trying to break anything at the moment. He stares at it and scowls as he asks, “What’s the fucking point of locking the range when the weapons are right fucking here?!” He flicks a hoof off to the side towards the open cabinets where the weapons sit proudly on display.

‘To keep dumbasses from wandering in and getting themselves, and maybe everyone else, killed in the process?’ the little pegasus in his head asks as it shrugs its shoulders. The common sense of it makes Gearing snort as he looks the door over, but quickly finds the access panel where the ID cards are used to open the door.

Again, Gearing tries the ID badge for the IT pony, and, again, the door refuses to yield or even acknowledge it. Gearing holds the ID up and looks at the smiling buck and lets out a sigh. “Damn, they kept you away from all of the fun, didn’t they, Copper?” As he’s replacing the ID badge onto his bag he comments, “Working here musta been its own type of hell…” He uses a wing, grabs the ID from the lanyard around his neck, and tries the maintenance access card this time.

And, again, the door quickly chirps acceptance and opens up for him.

“I bet the reason that old timer was given access was because he had to keep fixing shit they broke during testing…” Gearing groans as he lets go of the ID badge and returns it to hanging from the lanyard around his neck. And, again being worried about the door sealing behind him, he grabs a milk crate from nearby, this one having a variety of other smaller boxes inside that put a twinkle in his eye as he feels the heft of the crate, and sets it on the ground to prop the door open just shy of the door frame.

After making sure his exit is secure, he heads inside the range and starts looking around. And it doesn't take long for Gearing to notice that more than a few of the lights had been outright broken. Not simply had bulbs go out, but were actually physically destroyed. Which is odd to Gearing, given the lab had all of its lights still intact, even if a few of them had burnt out over the years. But, as he’s staring at them, he can see why.

The firing range is rather small by comparison for some of the places he’d been to. Even in the civilian sector. A few of the ones he had used previously were gigantic. And not just the military ones. But this one only has about a dozen firing lanes to it. Like little elongated cubicles of death dealing. Which most ponies would probably see as overkill given its private purpose. He certainly did. Except his mind changes instantly when he looks down range and sees the various objects set up to be shot. Each bay had different materials down range for them to test their weaponry against. Brick. Sandbags. Wooden timbers. There’s even a set of battle dress armor for an Imperial Legionary. Though it’s been shot up so much that it’s not worth much, probably not even worth target practice. And that’s just what he can see from the door.

But, the other thing he can see from the door is where there are many weapons impacts in places no weapons’ safety, nor range master, would ever approve of. And not just down range. The ceiling even has shot marks in it on both sides of the firing line. And that’s the real reason some of the lights are out. They were literally broken by errant shots. And as he starts walking down perpendicular to the lanes, to the right, and headed towards what looks like a small open office area where there’s a computer, is when he starts seeing the bodies. Bodies he honestly wasn’t expecting to find.

Gearing looks around, and sways side to side just enough to look around the individual bay’s divider walls to see around them and further on down range. He quickly goes around, as quietly as he can, to make sure there’s nothing actively dangerous in the room with him. Which given he’s in the wing of experimental weapons, with active murderous robots on his EFS display marked as red chevrons, he feels it’s a good idea. He’s had enough robots trying to kill him recently. And as bad as the souped-up battle drones had been, he can only imagine what would happen if even a small sprite bot had one of those weapons that was so scary that even the Ministry of Morale said ‘not today!’ and took about all of the toys that they could.

After being satisfied that there’s no immediate danger in the room, short of some hidden walls opening up and unleashing more murderous metal at him, he starts checking on the various corpses in the room. From what he can see, there appears to be eight. All of them pony. With most of them being unicorns, and only three earth ponies among them. Two of the unicorns and one of the earth pony corpses lie out in the live fire area of the testing range. And around them, in various directions, are the tell-tale pockmarks of multiple weapon strikes of near misses, and in a trail leading to them from the far right side. Two of the other ponies, a unicorn and an earth pony, have been carefully laid off to the side, near the wall, and have been covered with sheets that look like they’d been taken from the tables in the break room. Unlike the three in the live fire area that seem to have been left abandoned where they fell. Weapons and all. The remaining three are huddled up in the corner where the office desk for the testing range is.

One of the unicorns and the earth pony seem like they were leaning against each other, almost in an embrace, while the last unicorn is sitting across from them a short distance away. Around the area is a variety of ammo, a good portion of it having been spent. But there’s also quite a few empty packages of food. All snack grade and not really sustenance for the longer term. And, as he’s looking around, all of it seems to be empty. Gearing looks over the various bodies. The majority of the bodies seem to have been riddled with bullets, judging by the many blood stained holes in the clothes. But there are three that are different. He sees that the two huddled up next to each other, both have a bullet wound lining up through both sides of their skulls. And, looking at the wall that separates this back wall from the rest of the research and development area, there is a noticeable large pockmark in the reinforced concrete. And the height of it makes it pretty clear to Gearing that a single shot took them both out. Looking over at the other, lone, unicorn, Gearing sees the same wound and trajectory, but, unlike the other two, Gearing can see a weapon laying next to the unicorn on the ground. And judging by the size of the bore on the gun, it’s most likely the culprit for all three fatalities.

“What happened here…?” Gearing muses as he sifts through the items around the bodies. And, after emptying out a bag only to find it full of more empty wrappers, he twitches his ears and looks up at the desk for the range master. He walks over to it and finds the computer sitting powered on, and, strangely given where they are, completely unlocked. Given the level of security in the entire place, he can’t really understand why the thing could be left unlocked for anyone to access.

Until he starts getting into the files that is.

Footnote:

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Sector Discovered, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

92 Terminal Entry

When Gearing looks at the computer screen sitting on the desk of the testing range, he sees there’s already a series of entries on display. As if they were intentionally left in the open for whoever came after to find. The one that’s currently selected, and apparently last in the list, is titled ‘Celestia Have Mercy’. Above that are several other entries. And, wanting to try and get a more informed picture, he starts scrolling up through the entries that are on the screen. And it doesn’t take long for him to hit the area where he’s pretty sure these personal logs had started. His first clue was that the entries went from having casual headings about various topics, to having a blatant company format for the header. And the second clue, was the first entry that broke away from the header formatting, with its subject title set as ‘FUCKING COWARDS!’ which is far from professional language. At least that’s what ponies kept telling him when he’d get colorful with his language.

The listed dates are also a painfully obvious clue as well.

But instead of just reading the first one that’s different, Gearing decided to read the last one in the chain of organized messages to confirm his suspicions of what the rest of them are most likely about.

IF-88-M Experimental Test
Date: October 22

Synopsis: While the IF-88-M multirole shotgun has come a long way, it is still suffering from a few problems. Testing today confirmed it is still having a hangup issue with the belt feeding ammo and getting jammed. Unsure if the problem is the belt, or if there is a glitch in the software for the interface with the Stable-Tec OS to control which ammo is selected and when. Rest of weapon is functional, but the ammo sorter and belt feeder problems need to be fixed before moving to the next stage. -AH

Detailed: The IF-88-M is a lovely weapon. It’s the next logical progression from the original IF-88 that was given to and used by the hero Big Macintosh, may he rest in peace. The project goals were simply to ‘Make it deadlier, faster, and tougher’ to quote our mandate. To that end, we have taken the direction of making it more versatile. We have altered the original combat shotgun’s schematics to accept multiple ammo feed options. With an incorporation of a module that can interface with a Stable-Tec OS compatible equipment, like a PipBuck, it can piggy back from the signals and use the sorting enchantment to pull out various ammo as needed, when needed, without having to manually change out the detachable magazines. Previous problems have been solved with the design that had made it prone to overheating, cracking, or exploding when used. We’ve fine tuned the machining, found a combination of magical enforcement and alloy selection that is up to specs, and now have a working prototype. However, the issue with the feeding mechanism still plagues us. We’re currently waiting to hear back from Stable-Tec about getting help debugging the software that controls the ammo feed, and then we can make sure there’s nothing mechanically wrong with the belt feeder as well. Although I’m reasonably sure there’s nothing physically wrong with it. Our contact at Stable-Tec informed me just this morning that they are passing the control code around the office, trying to find someone who can find the problem, and the mare in question had lamented that the best coder she knows is currently on sabbatical, and she doesn’t know when he’ll be back. So we may be at a stand still until somepony finds a solution to this. But, even so, I feel I would be negligent if I did not reiterate: the weapon is fully reliable and lethal, even without the ammo sorter.

-Amber Harvest

Gearing stares at the report as he taps on his chin. “Well, it’s good to know that the weapon has been thoroughly tested and is mostly functional. I’ll have to go over the rest of it and see if I can find a solution when I’m back at the stable. But until then I can at least use the drum mags to have enough ammo. Going by the statistics sheets, the alloy should be able to handle a few full drums without any problem. Which, if there’s any fights that last longer than multiple full drums, I think we’ll be having more to worry about than weapon maintenance at that point…”

‘At that point, if dumping that much ammo won’t do it, it’s time to deploy something more widespread,’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments. He reaches into the cloud in the mindspace under himself, and pulls up a large green hunk of metal with a long barrel. He slams it down onto the cloud, hops into the artillery’s gunner seat, and starts looking through a rangefinder for targets. ‘Like something that can just delete an entire direction, and change topographical maps…’

“There’s a right tool for every job, and no one-size-fits-all solutions,” Gearing comments quietly as he selects the first entry that breaks the organizational standard naming convention.

FUCKING COWARDS!

Date: October 23

Synopsis: Security is traitorous cunts that need to be shot on sight! See attached video! -AH

Detailed: I’m writing this log for future prosecution evidence. When the current emergency is over, the head of security for this Research and Development building, a bastard named Clay Road, needs to be hunted down, arrested, and dragged into jail. Or just throw him under it! His crimes are many, and have directly resulted in the deaths of many innocents. Then there is the dereliction of duty, abandoning his post, wanton disregard for pony life, and his willful refusal to control the security system which directly resulted in the deaths of many employees of Ironshod. And the video will also show evidence of the massive theft, and espionage he committed before he fled the building. I’m not sure what emergency triggered this lock down and security blitz, but once it has been controlled I plan to turn this information over. If I too fall victim to Clay’s treachery, I hope this record will help shed light on his failings not only as a security chief tasked with protecting others, but a complete and utter failure as a pony. I am so angry right now, that I could probably go on for hours. But I hope by time this is read, cooler heads can prevail, as the video itself is rather damning.

-Amber Harvest [The pissed off mare that probably castrated Clay Road with a big bullet]

Gearing smirks as he moves to play the attached security surveillance video recording as he says, “Well, hey, don’t hold back Amber, tell me what you really think.”

On the screen a video plays, already apparently in the middle of an argument as if they started recording it as an afterthought. The angle of the view shows the camera is somewhere up near the ceiling and probably in the corner of the room as it looks at some thick door that has a red ‘EXIT’ sign right above it. There are five ponies near the door tending to a variety of bags and sacks as they are loading themselves up. One mare unicorn seems like an office worker of some kind, as she is wearing a business casual suit. The other four ponies are wearing Security uniform barding, with one of those actually wearing a set of security armor with it. The one with the actually armored barding is an earth pony with a rather heinous scar starting at his left ear, and running down his face and muzzle until it comes down his mouth and makes it look like he had a cleft upper lip.

On the recording, a mare’s voice yells over a speaker from somewhere in the room, “Clay! You can’t just leave yet, we’re stuck up on the fourth floor!”

The buck with the face scar sighs and turns to look at the camera. “There ain’t nothing I can do for you.”

“How about doing your JOB and telling the robots to stop killing everypony instead of just trying to run off with the whole armory!” the mare’s voice retorts.

The buck narrows his eyes as he says, “You can blame the damn managers over this, Amber. They didn’t listen to that nerdy buck about setting up the system to be easier to control.” He shrugs. “I can’t. The only thing I was able to do was designate the security personnel as friendlies. That’s it.”

“Clay!” The mare’s voice yells in despair. “You can’t leave us to die!”

“Amber,” the buck says gruffly. “I’m not leaving you to die. I’m leaving so we can live. Or at least have a chance. I can’t fight this whole building’s worth of security drones. Don’t have the resources or the hooves to do it. And damn sure don’t have the time.”

“You don’t have the time to go back to your station and turn everything off?!” Amber’s voice comes over the speakers incredulously.

“I don’t have the ability to. I don’t know how to. Otherwise I’d do exactly like I’ve already told you, and just wait here for the military to come and sort things out when they can.” He waves a hoof towards the door. “Copper probably could have figured the system out, but that buck’s smart. At the first sign of trouble him and Seedy hightailed it out of here. So there’s no one left to even try to get this shit under control.”

“Clay, come on, at least come and get us and let us go with you. We can carry more, right? And my team can work on and improve weapons. You’ll need us for all of that gear you got.” Amber’s voice comes out with such desperation that it’s painful to hear.

Clay walks around and sorts through who is carrying what, and decides to just throw a few things off to the side that apparently he decides they don’t need or isn’t worth the pack weight. But he says nothing in response.

“Clay?” Amber’s voice asks flatly.

Clay keeps working on things and seems to verify that they are done before moving over towards the door.

“Clay! Answer me dammit!” Amber yells a bit shrilly.

“There’s nothing more to talk about, Amber,” Clay says coldly.

“What are we supposed to do trapped up here?!” Amber’s panic comes out clearly in the recording.

“Already told you,” Clay responds coldly. “Hunker down. Do what you can. And wait for the military to come to secure the building. They’ll be able to rescue you. Right now I have some place else I need to be.” He motions towards the exit door and the others line up and as he’s pushing the door open, an alarm sounds in the apparent back storage area.

The group starts filing out, with the one office mare looking up and back, right at the camera, with an apologetic frown, before heading out the door too.

“Clay! You’ll hang for this! You hear me, Clay!? You bastard!” Amber’s voice screeches out as it starts cracking and transitions to sobs of despair.

When the door slams closed, and the light from the outside is no longer coming in through the door, Amber’s voice comes out again, “You’re killing us, Clay…” A few moments later after the sobs are still continuing, the recording suddenly cuts out.

‘That’s fucked up,’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments.

“A completely preventable disaster,” Gearing agrees with his mental companion.

‘There is a bit of good news from this, though,’ the little blue pegasus comments. ‘For us at least.’

“Yeah,” Gearing mutters. “Means we might be able to figure out what’s wrong with the system, and then fix it for our own advantage.”

Gearing goes on to the next message in the line.

Answers

Date: October 23

Synopsis: We’ve discovered the truth. It’s all over. -AH

Detailed: We weren’t sure what was going on when everything went tits up earlier today. In hindsight the first signs of trouble were when some of those that were part of the Stable-Tec Stable program got the page to report to their respective stables. They’d ran out in quick order taking little to nothing with them. Rumors started flying rapidly before even half of those running ponies made it out of the building. The rumor mill was right. However Stable-Tec knew, they knew. Our resources for information are extremely limited, but some of the network is still up. What we had all feared has come to pass. This morning around 9 am, the beginning of the end started. We don’t know who fired the first of the final shots, but the Zebras had deployed their arsenal of balefire missiles. And Equestria deployed our megaspells. There is widespread destruction and we can tell in some areas there’s already signs of radioactive tainted snow. From what we can gather the Zebras hit every major metropolitan area. And Cloudsdale was also obliterated off the map right out of the sky. The emergency broadcast system is a mess. In some ways, we are lucky to have been here when the war started. The building had been fortified pretty well against the zebra warmachine, so it’s still standing. Our main concern is supplies, and the out of control security system. We have plenty of water, thankfully. The electric grid is still up it seems, and we have access to a water system that will provide us with all the water we need as long as it has the power for the water talisman’s to work. Even have plans to start bottling water as containers are made available just in case. Food is a concern though. A major concern. There is so little in this building, we don’t have any stockpiles for emergencies, this isn’t that kind of building. But I believe with the few individuals that have remained inside, with everyone else either fleeing or already being killed by the ponicidal robots, that what is inside of the various vending machines and break rooms should allow us to hold out long enough for the military to come and rescue us from this strange prison.

-Amber Harvest

“Well I don’t see that ending well,” Gearing comments evenly.

‘What was your first clue? The overreliance on the unknown, wishful thinking, and hope? Or the corpses at our hooves?’ the little pegasus in his head asks snarkily.

Supplies

Date: October 24

Synopsis: Consolidating supplies. -AH

Detailed: Those of us that are still alive up here have started consolidating everything into the experimental testing range. We’re actually living in the range area. It’s the only place that the robots don’t regularly patrol. Being researches we’ve gathered information on the patrol patterns and now know when we can be where. And the only two places really safe are beyond the door for the locker room and showers, and here in the experimental range. The robots don’t seem to even pay attention to us as long as we’re inside of the armory security cage. But we don’t want to tempt fate. I’ve attached a file with the pathing timing for future reference. Beyond that we’ve had to sneak around. But even doing that is dangerous because we never know when a hidden turret will pop out and start shooting at us. Have had discussions of trying to make it to the security room to try and hack the system, but just getting there is a problem. We’ve already seen several ash piles where some poor pony lost their life to our security system. A few bullets we might be able to heal from with a good potion. But there’s nothing a potion can do when you’re reduced to sparkling ash.

Using the pathing information we’re going to stalk around the office and work areas, and bring everything back here. We even have plans to break into the vending machines and raid everypony’s work desks to take whatever snacks that I know most up here have been hoarding. Have Ironshod take it out of my pay if anyone cares that much about it.

Point of interest: Whatever sadistic bastard thought it was a good idea to give the robots access to land mines and have them deploy them as part of their security response, needs to be gutted alive and tied sprawled out over a wagon for the crows to feast on. We’ve managed to disable a couple of them, but we’ve already come across evidence of some of our coworkers who lost their lives to them yesterday. What a mess. Pieces of pony everywhere.

-Amber Harvest

Gearing frowns as he nods and downloads the attached file. “At least they started planning and acting soon. Deploying land mines inside is a rather dumb move. How are first responders supposed to clear a building and help rescue those inside, let alone secure the building again?” He quickly checks the file he downloaded before opening the next entry. “Thanks from the future, this’ll help…”

Idle Hooves are the Tools of Roam

Date: October 28

Synopsis: Staying busy -AH

Detailed: It’s been nearly a week, and we still haven’t heard anything more. The emergency broadcast system is just on repeat, so it’s useless to us at the moment. I’ve started working on a couple of our projects just to keep my mind off of everything and TRY to keep sane. A couple others aren’t doing much more than staying huddled up in shell shock. I think we’re all going to need some serious therapy after this is over. We’re researchers, not soldiers. We may be researching and developing weapons, but none of us expected to have to walk through rooms covered in exploded pieces of what used to be our former coworkers. Personally I’m switching back and forth between the newest iteration of the IF-88, and my pet project that’s been affectionately dubbed ‘That Gun’. I’ve made so many changes to it that it’s a monster amalgamation, but she’s still my brain child. I doubt she’ll ever be seen as viable for full production, but she has a lot of potential.

Others have their own methods of trying to cope with things. A few others are likewise trying to keep themselves busy. But then there’s also those two mares. I know I shouldn’t gossip, but I’ve always thought they’d make a cute couple. Pretty Dreamer and Honeycomb Cookie have just had so much chemistry that a few of us were watching with interest and just wondering when they’d get sick of the pretense and just start making out in the hallways. Always expected, and halfway hoped, to open the supply closest and see those two all over each other. But, company policy forbade fraternization between coworkers, so I can see why they didn’t. They didn’t want to risk their job. But after what’s happened, who could blame them for trying to find some comfort? They aren’t hurting anypony. It started off with Pretty Dreamer sitting against the wall nearly catatonic, and Cookie checking on her and offering a shoulder to cry on. And it’s quickly gotten to the point that the two of them are inseparable. They’re adorable together.

I was right, they are a cute couple.

-Amber Harvest

Gearing lets out a sigh. “Trying to find normalcy is important. I hope they didn’t get too lost waiting on that instead of dealing with immediate problems”

Horrible Silence

Date: November 5

Synopsis: Still Nothing -AH

Detailed: It has been two weeks since the world has ended. From the few windows we can actually see out of, it looks horrible out there. Constantly getting worse. Not just the fires and the destruction, but apparently the Pegasi have fired up the cloud machines to full blast and the sun isn’t even getting through much anymore. And plants and animals are dying in mass out there because of the dust and radiation. We haven’t been able to get anything out there to measure it, but we’re pretty sure given what’s happened and what we can see from here.

There’s been no sign nor word from the military. The explosions had stopped long ago, so the war is truly over at this point. I don’t know how much is left of the world. I’m sure the military, or whatever is left of it, has better and more important places to secure and help. Hospitals. Schools. Those sorts of places. I know a research building for weapons isn’t the highest of priorities in the grand scheme of things for a war that’s already over, but I hope they get here sooner than later. We’ve already started rationing what little food we’ve managed to accumulate.

I know the Pegasi are right out. While scanning through frequencies we intercepted a broadcast telling all the Pegasi to go above cloud level and fuck us. So, yeah, fuck all those winged bastards too. They can all rot in hell right along with Clay Road.

-Amber Harvest

Gearing groans as he opens the next file.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head folds his forelegs across his chest and snorts, ‘Well fuck you too, lady…’

That Gun Got an Upgrade

Date: November 6

Synopsis: Bored. Worked on my own gun. Sue me. -AH

Detailed: So little to do in here I tinkered with my girl ‘That Gun’ some more. Sunbeam Forest keeps joking about ‘Leave it to Amber to make a Chimera out of a firearm.’ Which, to be fair, he has a point. I keep taking things I learn, or think of, while making other weapons, and upgrade my own weapon. It’s changed so much from its original build that it’s only the same weapon in name and by philosophy. Started out as a 5.56 long barreled break action revolver. Now it’s a 12.7mm revolver with a cylinder that can either be flipped out to reload, replace the cylinder with a fully loaded one, or use a speed loader after ejecting the empty cartridges. My girl’s got that kind of versatility. And she hits like a freight train for a revolver now. I’m proud of my baby. I gave her another upgrade today. Now she has a module that can track the weapon’s condition. Green light means fully loaded and good to go. Yellow means empty. Red means there has been a malfunction and a jam needs to be cleared. Hardest part of all was testing to make sure the red light would come on, because she’s my baby so she doesn’t malfunction easily. I had to keep dumping sand and salt and mistreating her before she’d jam the first time and trigger the module to glow red. I instantly apologized to her and gave her a spa day with plenty of brush massages and high grade gun oil.

I’d spent a long time trying to figure out what to call her. So didn’t have a name for her. So just kept referring to her as “That Gun” and so did everypony else. Started off as a joke, really, but now I’m sure I’ll just keep it that way. Out of everything connected to this gun, the only thing that has remained constant is its name being “That Gun” and with the world apparently ending, I think I’ll hold onto that bit of stability.

So “That Gun” it is.

-Amber Harvest

“‘That Gun’, huh? Sounds fun. I wonder where it is…” Gearing mutters as he moves on to the next entry.

‘100 bits says it's the one laying next to that mare, the one with the blocky barrel,’ the little pegasus comments as he points a hoof off to the side where there’s a lone unicorn skeleton with a pistol of some kind next to it.

Consolidation complete

Date: November 7

Synopsis: If it’s edible, we’ve taken it. -AH

Detailed: Using the patrol map we created we have looted every single thing we can get to that’s edible. We can’t leave this zone of the 4th floor. We could get out of that huge door. It’s still working and so is its security. But we have nowhere to fall back to and there’s nowhere to hide and watch out for patrols. We’ve risked a few times, and we can hear the number of bots that are in the rest of the area and even in lower levels. But we are stuck between the bots and the turrets. We’ve completely emptied out the break room. Snacks. Crackers. Salad Dressing. Creamer. Sugar. Even every single grain of salt. We’re mixing the salt into bottles of water to make it a bit more palatable, but we know we have to keep our electrolytes up. We’re already starting to ration food. Even the concept of a full stomach is starting to fade from memory and it’s only been a little over two weeks before everything went to hell. The vending machines became the receptacles of our pent up frustrations. I even took a welding torch to break into one. Was it necessary? No. Were there other ways to do it? Sure. Couldn’t I have just used the Bits we have to buy things? Of course. But did I enjoy melting that motherfucker while fantasizing about doing the same thing to Clay Road’s crotch? Absofuckinglutely.

We even took down a few of the more annoying robots that made scavenging harder. Sorry, not sorry. I’ll do it again!

Also sort of regretting complaining so much about the rodent problem we had in the building. As gross as this sounds, I bet one would taste pretty good right about now. Just use the torch and roast it? Use the milling machine to rotate it? Damn, that’s an idea. I’ll set out some traps and hope to get something.

Don’t judge me, fucker.

-Amber Harvest [Hungry mare is Hungry.]

Gearing shakes his head. “Well that explains why I didn’t find so much as a gumstick. Poor ponies…”

Leaving?

Date: November 11

Synopsis: First discussion about leaving -AH

Detailed: Today we had a sit down with all eight of us and had our first real talk about breaking out of this zone, and maybe even the building. There were a lot of ideas thrown around. It was civil, mostly. Probably about as civil as could be considering how Hangry we all are. At this point we’re not even sure IF the military will ever be coming. Or even if they exist anymore. It’s been nearly three weeks, and nothing new has come up. Even if they are, we’re going to have to come up with something else to keep us alive long enough to hold out for them to arrive and save us. We even had serious talks about starting up some kind of hydroponics system to start making food. In theory, it’s not a bad idea. Moonlight Melody and Peppermint Almond were both in the botany club while in university. Peppermint even has a minor in botany and was a member of Filly Farmers as a kid. So we have the knowledge base, at least enough to get us going and work our way through it. The problem is that we're a research and development company for WEAPONS, and there’s very little that will translate over. Sure, we have the equipment to make damn near anything we want. But what we’d need is the nutrients to feed the plants and seeds to grow. And we have neither. Not even the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn box would work, since they’ve all been cooked and wouldn’t be viable. And the fruit pits from the fruits we’d eaten wouldn’t work, because trees take years to produce and we’d be dead by then. So of all of the resources at our disposal, of this whole fucking company, we don’t have the few things we actually need.

Cinnamon Sparks brought up the possibility of leaving. This time we seriously debated on it and didn’t actually outright dismiss it. The same problems are here today that were before. The security system isn’t going to just let us leave, let alone come back. We know we’re relatively safe in here, with the shielding and such to block the radiation. Outside is another problem. And there’s not enough rad away nor any of those little tablets to hamper radiation absorption in the first place. Only a token amount at best. We even pulled up diagrams and drew out various routes that we could take. Ironically, the path to the exit that bastard Clay took when he fled like the little bitch that he is, is not even close to being the best choice for us. There’s more exits closer. And that’s not including if we manage to make an exit somewhere. But the bots are going to be a problem. And because we don’t have a solution for them at the moment, we’re going to have to table this. Sparks isn’t happy about it, but that’s the group decision currently. He said he’ll figure something out and we’ll revisit it once there’s a solution for the current problem.

Now that I write that out, it makes me feel like the IF-88 again… meetings and constant problems that have to get kicked down the road because the problem can’t be solved currently.

Made some traps, various traps, none of them have caught anything, I think the extermination company did too good of a job, dammit…

-Amber Harvest [If you’re hungry and you know it stomp your hooves. STOMP! STOMP!]

‘If this was a pharmaceutical or agro company they could have probably stayed here indefinitely,’ the little pegasus comments softly as Gearing continues down the list.

Poor Harvest

Date: November 13

Synopsis: Endless arguments -AH

Detailed: Problem: Food. Solution: Food. The discussion that started two days ago, basically never really ended. But it morphed into arguments. Don’t get me wrong, Sparks has a point about our food supply. I mean, we don’t need the damn reminder. Every single one of us have advanced degrees, we can do the basic math to show that we don’t have enough food to last much longer let alone forever. It’s been three weeks and what little we accumulated is dwindling quickly. Sparks keeps advocating for more and more ludicrous plans. Wants us to take over the whole building and search for food on the other floors, and even leave to scavenge local buildings. Maybe even hit up that Megamart for food. But we can’t fight all of this security. Yes, we have a lot of weapons, but the vast majority of them are unreliable and experimental. And then there’s the problem with not having enough armor. As in no armor. I mean one of us could put on that Legionary armored dress we have in the shooting range, but it’s so full of holes it wouldn’t help much. And the faux power armor is nothing more than plates, few of us would be able to move at ALL if we put that one on. So, yeah, we’re armed to the teeth. Got enough firepower to take down an elder dragon. Easy. But we can’t take a hit. We’re glass cannons here.

I don’t know what he expects of us. I think he’s just getting to the point that he’s so hungry he can’t think of anything else. And isn’t thinking rationally. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve taken to chewing gum and drinking lots and lots of water to fill up my stomach. But that’s not what my body wants. And it’s starting to catch up to us. I can already feel myself losing weight. I’m probably down to the dress size I wished for last Hearth Warming. Not the way I wanted it.

-Amber Harvest [Hungry and frustrated in Hoofington]

Problems Continue

Date: November 15

Synopsis: IF-88-M no joy -AH

Detailed: Spent the day working on the IF-88-M again while chewing on my allotment of gum. Accidentally swallowed it a bit ago. I’ll probably be farting bubbles later. Wouldn’t that be funny? More funny than the problems I’m running into with the IF-88. I know I was going to put it on hold until I hear back from Stable-Tec, but given I’m pretty sure all of the surviving members of Stable-Tec are now underground in their hidden stables, I don’t think I’ll be getting any help with this project anytime soon. The majority of the gun works. It still works. Just that blasted sorter and auto feeder keeps jamming up after a couple rounds. Whether I change ammo types or not. It’s so frustrating. But probably even more so since I’m trying to do it while so unbelievably hungry. Been over three weeks. No word. No help. We’re alone. And food is getting to be an emergency situation worry, and we’re going to have to start making some really tough decisions soon. This is getting more unpleasant by the minute and I worry about our future. However short that’s going to be.

-Amber Harvest [I’d kill for a rose sandwich with extra cream cheese right about now. Seriously.]

Tight Belts

Date: November 16

Synopsis: Rationing intensifies -AH

Detailed: I called it. We went through all of our remaining supplies, and did the calculations. We even pulled out nutritional information for every little thing and started the breakdown for splitting it up. Activities are going to have to be reduced. Our intake is going to be that minuscule. Something has to give. Even with cutting back as much as we are, we barely have enough for another week. And even then, what shape are we going to be in at the end of that week? I swear I was looking at one of our research binders, and started fantasizing about a hay burger. And then even started doing the calculations in my head on how much I could get out of the cellulose that is in that paper.

Sparks is in an uproar, and I can’t even blame him.

Something’s got to give. Before it’s our bodies giving by giving out on us.

Amber Harvest [size triple negative]

FAFO

Date: November 17

Synopsis: We tried security, with predictable results -AH

Detailed: With the food situation being as dire as it is, Sparks spent most of the night yesterday talking to everyone trying to get support on going lower. Moonlight Melody and Coco Hazel got on board pretty quickly. Sunbeam Forest and Honeycomb Cookie weren’t too hard to persuade with their growling stomachs. And when he agreed to make it exploratory and limited, it was hard to logically argue against it, so I agreed as well.

We ran into pretty much what we feared we would. Security in full force like an angry wasp nest. And on top of THAT level of fun, we had to worry about various land mines the little robobastards put out, and turrets all over the place. At one point Melody triggered a mine while running from a murder bot, and froze from pure fear and not knowing what to do. Luckily Sunbeam saw it, and reacted in time. He wrapped the mine with his levitation and threw it right into the face of the pursuing hover bot. The landmine smacked it right in the front, and detonated a fraction of a second later. Melody ended up with some shrapnel in her butt, but considering the alternative she was very much happy about how things turned out. Sore butt included.

Turrets, both hidden and already in plain sight, seem to be all over. We’ve marked them where we can. But we can’t seem to find a path out. It’s becoming clear that if we want out, we’re going to have to fight our way through and make a path out. Which, that might just be what we’re going to have to do. At least fight our way to the break room on a lower floor to give us more time.

But even if we didn’t have the bots, there’s still security doors we can’t get past because it’s not our area. Dammit I wish Copper or Seedy were still here. I can’t blame them for leaving, especially with the way management treated Copper. It was no secret a couple of them had petty grievances with him and were trying to make him quit, because they felt stupid and inferior. Probably even threatened by him. Maybe if we can get to the security room we can give ourselves access to other rooms. But that’s behind even more rows of bots and turrets.

At this point I’d trade sexual favors just to get the hell out of here.

Amber Harvest [If you’re reading this remotely, wink wink, come and get it. My safe word is Pineapple Pizza.]

Celestia Help Us

Date: November 18

Synopsis: Packet of Sugar almost caused murder -AH

Detailed: I can’t believe what happened today. I mean, yeah, I can. The hunger pains I have are making it quite clear. Poor Peppermint Almond dropped a packet of sugar after opening it. One of the ones used to sweeten your coffee? Ones that normal ponies put like FOUR in just to get it drinkable? Yeah, well, she opened it, and was having such a hard time focusing that her magic winked out and the small packet fell down and the sugar spilled out.

I never saw that side of Moonlight Melody. I didn’t know she had it in her. She saw the packet drop, and just completely flipped. I swear I thought she was going to kill Peppermint for a few minutes. She just went off on her about it and made her lick the sugar off the ground. Even told her to eat the paper just to make sure she got it all. And Peppermint was so abashed that she did it without question, but with tears in her eyes. And, I couldn’t do or say anything about it. None of us did. Moonlight just stood over Peppermint like some kinda dominatrix degrading her and making her lick the floor clean. Under completely different circumstances it might have been kinda hot. But, like this, it was just deplorable and exhausting. I didn’t even have the energy to tell her to chill the hell out about the packet of sugar.

Tempers are flaring everywhere. We have to figure something out. A way to one of the other areas. A way through the robots. A way around the robots. Or maybe just a way out and outside. We have to figure something out, we’re falling apart here. I’ve been slowly tinkering with both the IF-88 and my girl That Gun, but there’s only so much I can do that doesn’t involve a lot of movement and I’m trying to cut down on calorie burn rate at this point.

Amber Harvest [Tired and Hungry in Hoofington and apparently a closet pervert]

Gearing stares at the screen for a bit as he thinks it through. “Would they even survive being outside? Like, the radiation would have been even worse then, than now. So…? Would leaving even be a good idea even if they could punch a hole in the wall or whatever?” As he’s pondering over that he reads through the next entries.

Is anypony out there?

Date: November 19

Synopsis: Four weeks since blast and nothing -AH

Detailed: It’s been four weeks. Nothing in four weeks. No sign. No movement. I don’t think they are coming. We’re going to have to get out or do something for ourselves. We’re alone.

Sparks has a point.

-Amber Harvest

Fuck, fuck FUCK!

Date: November 20

Synopsis: Fuckity Fuck fuck! -AH

Detailed: We’re fucked. We are truly and well fucked. I’m talking elder dragon bent us over and railed us like a rabbit level of FUCKED!

With everything going on and how desperate we’ve gotten we had another pony pow wow about what to do. Melody’s freak out the other day was a wake up call to all of us. She’s since apologized to Peppermint, but it’s not really helped. We’re festering here.

So it was decided to see if we could just punch through a wall and rope down to the first floor and out. With all of the manufacturing equipment we have up here, we should even be able to make a simple hoist or elevator. So we rigged up a kind of drill, and drilled right through the outer wall in one of the closets that has an outside facing wall. Thing was even thicker than we imagined, but we got through it. And as part of the plan, we stuck a probe outside to start measuring the outside radiation. The probe I pushed through the hole was already making our instruments go ballistic before it even made it outside the wall. And once it was outside it was absolutely screaming at us. The standing passive radiation outside is insane.

Judging by the readings, there’s been strikes near us. We are fully within the lethal fallout cloud of at least one detonation. With Miramare, the home of Macintosh’s Marauders, not far away that makes sense, it’s safe to assume that was hit directly. Not to mention the possibility of all of the missiles that were probably destroyed mid flight and released their contamination across wide areas of land. We don’t have suits to handle going outside. With the readings as high as they are, we’ll get lethal levels of absorption in short order. My calculations say half an hour to an hour of exposure. That’s not enough time to get anywhere reasonable, search for supplies, and get back, before the timer’s up. And that’s just ONE trip. And we have nothing to flush it out. Not enough Radaway. Not enough radiation prevention tablets.

We are well and truly fucked. And even if there was a military or government left, it’d be too dangerous to save us. And now we’re definitely too weak to fight all of the robots. But, even if we did, that would only buy us, what, another couple weeks at best? Maybe?

We’re so fucked, and not in the fun way.

-Amber ‘Hell in a Hoof Basket’ Harvest

Uncivil War

Date: November 21

Synopsis: Traitors started a war, most died. -AH

Detailed: Cinnamon Sparks, Unicorn Male; Coco Hazel, Earth Pony Female; Moonlight Melody, Unicorn Female.

For the record: May these three traitorous bastards burn in hell for all eternity.

Sparks did not take the news and the decisions from what we had learned last night well. I am TRYING to be as objective as possible about this, and agree that doing nothing is not a viable alternative. But we don’t HAVE any good options, and his ideas were simply suicide. He spent most of the night arguing and fighting with the rest of the survivors here. But, with a five to three vote, they were out. They were told if they wanted to try it on their own, they were welcome to do it. No one here would stop them at this point. If they really wanted to go, they could. And good luck to them. The three named traitors above, Sparks, Hazel, and Moonlight, went off on their own after seeing that we weren’t budging. For most of the night we’d figured they were going to give it a go. To try for the security office.

That thought was shattered this morning when they came into the experimental range we’ve been using as our hideout from the robots, and pulled out various weapons while giving us all an ultimatum. Which resulted in a shootout ending with five fatalities.

It’s still a fresh trauma in my mind, but I’m going to try and put down, for posterity sake, everything that transpired.

Sparks said he wasn’t going to go out, and poison himself to death, just for the rest of us to eat his food. That this was the only safe place he knew about from the radiation so he’d have to come back here, and there’s no way in hell he could trust us not to steal whatever he finds. Not to mention getting past all of the robots and other security. He demanded all of us to go with them. Him, Hazel, and Moonlight. That way we had a higher chance of finding items and getting back, and wouldn’t have to worry about leeches stealing from the others since we were all going to take the same risks.

We argued about the radiation doing us in anyway, and a couple said they’d rather die of starvation, than die of starvation AND radiation sickness.

He kept throwing out countless counter arguments towards whatever was said against him. Most of it emotional nonsense that I can’t even recall at the moment. He’d said something about us ending up eating each other if we didn’t do as he said. But when they realized that we really weren’t going to budge, Sparks decided to take things up a notch. He aimed his weapon, and fired it right above everypony’s heads, and up into the ceiling after stating if we didn’t do what he said, and go with them, he’ll just kill all of us to keep from having to worry about us stabbing him in the back later. Because they have the guns.

Honestly, in hindsight, I realize that it was more of a shallow demand made out of desperation. I have doubts if he really meant saying it or had any intention of actually doing it. But, he said it. And he shot.

What he apparently didn’t realize, for some bizarre reason, is that every single one of the ponies he was pointing his barrel at, were gun nuts. We were gun nuts way before we came to work for Ironshod. All of us have our favorite weapons. Most of us have our own custom pieces. And more than a few of us have used Ironshod’s resources to further our own ballistic fetishes, whether that’s legal or not. So when he started shooting, every single one of us, all five not part of their little clique, pulled out our own personal weapons and started shooting back at him.

My girl That Gun finally got to prove her strength and earned some clout.

Once the bullets started flying, Sparks, Hazel, and Moonlight ran into the shooting range as they shot at us. I don’t know if they were just trying to break line of sight, and I think they were trying to yell at us. But I don’t know what they were saying. Too noisy and chaotic.

Bullets went everywhere. And at the end of it, all three traitors were dead in a pool of their own blood out in the range. We’d even reloaded and emptied more at them just to make sure they weren’t ever going to get up and threaten us again.

Unfortunately, in the exchange Sunbeam Forest, a superb ex-military unicorn buck, and Peppermint Almond, the sweet if meek earth pony mare, both lost their lives to the traitors. Cookie was also wounded in the exchange, but we were able to take care of it with our meager medical supplies and the pair are now cuddled up together against the wall. We’ve respectfully moved Sunbeam and Peppermint to the side, and covered them with sheets that I pilfered from the break room. I don’t know what else we can do for them. We can’t even leave to get food, let alone to make a grave for them.

So now there is only us three mares left, with me being the third wheel for Cookie and Pretty. And now Pretty gets to be the one taking care of Cookie for a change. If it were any other situation I’d be gushing and squeeing at seeing these two together. They’re such a sweet couple and deserve a long life of happiness.

But we’re already out of supplies, with no more options. I don’t see a way out of this.

-Amber Harvest [Tired]

Gearing hangs his head back and looks up at the ceiling as he sighs. “Well, that explains what happened here and what’s with all these bullet holes and corpses.” He lets out a gush of air and turns his head around to look out into the range at the couple of skeletons laying out in the open with all of the holes in them. “Dumb fucking idea. Would have been smarter to work towards the security office on your own if you were that antsy and looking for a fight.” He looks over at the pair against the wall leaned up against each other and frowns before he says quietly, “I can guess how this ended…”

Celestia Have Mercy

Date: November 21

Synopsis: No survivors -AH

Detailed: This is most likely going to be a long one. I feel it necessary to explain myself, and everything, in full. So that whoever is reading this will understand why I did what I did.

First and foremost, I want to express how sorry I am. I’m not sorry I did it. I would still do it again given the same set of circumstances. Even though I’m certain I’ve damned myself in doing so. But I am sorry it had to be done. I’m sorry there was no real other choices. I’m sorry they didn’t get to enjoy the long happy life that they deserved. They were such a cute sweet couple, right up until the very bitter end. They deserved each other. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.

A quick synopsis of what’s led up to this is 8 survivors, mentioned in full throughout these logs since the 23rd of October, have been stuck in this section of the fourth floor of Ironshod’s Research and Development building. The security system was activated and became hostile to all life in the building. The radiation levels outside made it impossible to leave even if we could get past the robots. And, worst of all, there’s no food left. There wasn’t much left in this building to begin with but we stretched it as far as we could. Because of all of these stresses, three individuals; Cinnamon Sparks, Coco Hazel, and Moonlight Melody, started an armed conflict, a coup of sorts, against the other five. In the process, everyone but myself, Honeycomb Cookie, and Pretty Dreamer, died in the ensuing gun battle that took place in the target range.

We had no food. We had no hope. Please understand this. We didn’t have it before the shootout this morning, and we’re even worse for wear since then.

We’d held on for over four weeks. Because the work we do is important for the military, so we thought they would want to come and get it and us. But, I doubt they exist anymore since they haven’t.

So, again, the building is full of security that wants to kill us on sight, the outside is so irradiated that it’s suicide to even step hoof out there, and there’s not enough food to keep us going inside. Even with only three of us now.

So I came to a decision. That’s right. Me. Myself. And I. I didn’t burden the other two with this. They deserved to be as happy as they can be. Not that there’s much happiness to be had in this hell hole. But at least they have each other. And the goodness that that entails.

The problem with having a brilliant mind, and having nothing but time on your hooves to think, is how much you think and how quickly one idea runs to another. And my desperate brain came to a horrifying conclusion. See, we ran out of even sugar packets for sustenance. We’re out of everything we’ve found. That’s what caused the shootout and the deaths today. Lack of hope. Lack of food. But, we haven’t really ran out of food. At least ‘food’. We haven’t ran out of edible things. My mind flashed to an article about certain incidents that have happened in the zebra lands. The comment Sparks made before starting this whole mess probably planted that seed. And it dawned on me that with our five coworkers dying, that would provide us with, objectively speaking, around a thousand pounds of edible flesh to consume. To say nothing of how the rest could be used.

My brilliant mind did the calculations. In rapid order. Against my will. For all three of us. If we acted quickly how much could we process, and how long it would last us, and how long would we three be able to survive off of it. I figured out how long we’d be able to go with a normal diet’s worth of caloric intake, and how long we’d go if we really stretched it to bare minimums. And, granted, the five corpses here would be able to sustain us for months and months. Even as emaciated we all are by now. We’d be able to live here well into next year and probably into the year after that if we managed well. And, damn me for even considering it, but if we had a goal of safety that we could reach just by surviving to that point, I would actually suggest it and push the other two towards accepting it. Like if we knew the military was coming by then. Or someone was coming with supplies to get us out. Or supplies to tie us over longer. If we had ANY hope of living longer AFTER that point, I would find a way to justify it. I would. Damn me, but I would. And I’m disgusted with myself for rationalizing it.

But the same brilliant mind that could rationalize that outright cannibalism, went further and made me realize something else. If we did that, if we tainted our very souls with such an act, we’d never be the same afterwards. We’d have to live with what we’d done. And, actually, I think we probably could. I think most would understand. It’s not like we killed them TO eat them. They died, and THEN we ate them. But here’s the catch.

We have no hope of rescue, so my brain keeps asking, ‘What happens after that?’

And it makes me realize that should we give in to such desperate desires for survival, once we have eaten our poor co-workers, our fellow ponies, we would be in the exact same position we find ourselves in now. In a year, or longer, we would be in this exact shape of desperate starvation. Except two things. One we’d have darkened our souls, and two, there’s the possibility of infighting and basically killing each other further to try and live just that much longer. Once you make those kinds of justifications for evil deeds, they become easier to do more often. I’ve thought about this long and hard today, since the fighting and since we covered our friends in sheets. Even now I can smell the blood. And it doesn't make me repulsed. It makes me salivate and hungry. My body is so desperate for nutrition that it doesn't care where it gets it.

So, when Honeycomb Cookie and Pretty Dreamer finally fell asleep from exhaustion and mental trauma, I decided to do what needs to be done.

Let me be clear. I killed them both. I will not mince words. I used my girl, That Gun, because I knew she’d do the job correctly, and I blew both of their brains out while they slept together with a single shot.

I had to do it. I know this might sound like an evil pony trying to justify their evil actions, but I really did have to. Those two are too good. They are goodness incarnate. I had to. Before we all became monsters. I want us to die good ponies. Not starving creatures full of self loathing who cannibalized our own coworkers. I had to end our suffering and prevent further tragedy. And shortly after I sign off from here I’m going to sit where I normally did when we all talked in a circle over this past month, look them right in the face so the last thing I see is the horrible thing I’ve done to them, and then use my girl to blow my horrifyingly brilliant brain all over the walls. I don’t ask nor pray for forgiveness. At this point I would just like to find them in the beyond and apologize to them. Maybe explain myself if they are kind enough to listen. I don’t expect forgiveness for my soul though.

They really were such a cute couple. Too bad they didn’t just go for it sooner.

To whoever finds my girl, That Gun, please take care of her. I made her so any pony can use her, not just unicorns. A bit of warning, she always seems to pack more of a punch than you’d normally expect for whatever ammo you put in her would normally cause in other firearms. I guess that’s her own special trait. Still not sure what I did to cause that but not complaining. So be careful with her, use her well, and pamper her with plenty of oil. The good stuff is in the desk under this computer terminal.

Princess Celestia. Princess Luna. I’m so sorry. Goodbye.

-Amber Harvest [Murderer]

‘That… sucks…’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments somberly.
Gearing nods as he looks over at the unicorn skeleton that he’s pretty sure is the remains of Amber Harvest, “Yeah. They had no good options. If they had someone to reprogram the bots they could have used those to salvage, maybe control them remotely. But that was outside of their expertise.” He stares at the empty eye sockets of Amber and says softly, “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. You were right. You all weren’t living anymore. You were just dying slowly. Had nothing to look forward to but more suffering and torment. Two hundred years of hindsight has proven you right. Since no one else has been here. You were never going to be rescued. Though I’m the last pony that has any right to offer anyone any kind of absolution. I do hope you found some peace, wherever you landed.”

Footnote:

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Sector Discovered, Please Stand By. . .

Retrying, Please Stand By. . .

93 A Bountiful Harvest

Having finished going through as many entries on the testing ground’s terminal as he currently dares, Gearing reaches under the computer, slides the cabinet door on the desk open, and starts rummaging through the supplies. He moves one of the empty boxes for envelopes over, and finds the bottle he’s looking for. He pulls it out and looks at the label with the picture of a mare duel wielding pistols in her levitation field and looking out at him with a sultry grin. “You weren’t kidding. This is a good brand of gun oil. Expensive stuff.” He snoops around a bit more and finds two more bottles, and quickly stows all three as he walks over next to Amber Harvest’s corpse. He gently grabs the strange pistol from the ground where her levitation field had dropped it two hundred years ago, and lifts it up to hold it at eye level as he looks it over. And his pipbuck’s HUD confirms what he’s picked up.

That Gun Added

And it doesn’t take long of looking at it that Gearing can understand why they named it what they did and why there was apparently so much conversation around her pet project. To call it ‘heavily modified’ doesn’t do it justice. The entire weapon has had custom machined parts. But, from what he’d read, a lot of them were modified from parts for other weapons that she pilfered from the company for her own purposes. He’s pretty sure any earth pony or inclined pegasi would find the wooden mouth grip comfortable and ergonomically designed for ease of use. As he’s looking it over, he can tell there’s been a lot of chrome applied to it as a finish. An unnecessary amount of chrome in his opinion. But that does help with its unique look. And then there’s the motorized rotator that seems to make the cylinders rotate just that much faster than normal. As he’s turning it over slowly he can see the lights she’d mentioned. The three indicator lights and the green one is currently still lit. He pops out the cylinder with a lift latch lever, that covers the cylinder and holds the plate down, and looks at the back side of the rounds. And he confirms there are two rounds left. The primers of the other three having already been dented when the last three survivors were forcefully thrown into the unknown beyond. He tries out the pull pin in the front, and finds that the cylinder smoothly comes out, and he can tap out the empty brass. He double checks his pipbuck, then allows his SATS system to help him reload it. Quickly he grabs three of the 12.7mm rounds from the top of his bag with a wing, slips them into the empty spots in the cylinder, and then flips it closed. The action of which seems to trigger something else in the weapon and the weapon buttons itself back up. The indicator lights momentarily switched from green, to yellow, and then back to green again when the cylinder was snugged back into place as it is ready to fire again.

Gearing looks over the weapon again and nods before storing it into his bag. “A twelve point seven, I know who’d be able to use this pretty well.”

He slowly looks around in the gun range as things play through his mind’s eye. After a bit, he sighs, shakes his head, and stands back up. “I don’t know when the technical difference between archeology and grave robbing kicks in, but there’s really no point in letting anything go to waste for no reason.”

Gearing begins walking around the enclosed space of the firing range and starts searching each of the bodies and whatever belongings they had brought in here with them. His first stop is Amber Harvest, as he actually feels out of all of them, she’d be the most approving of what he’s doing and that’d make him feel better about snooping through the bones of the others. She still wore her Ironshod lab coat for some reason. But instead of what might be in the pockets of any normal lab coat, hers had a collection of ammo, a small pocket sized cleaning kit for firearms, and multiple speed loaders and even extra cylinders. All already full of ammo and ready to use. And after searching her, he moves on to check the bodies of the others, their apparent personal bags, and then whatever items they accumulated and had stored in here with them.

Gearing finds a few other notes laying around with the others. A few pictures and such. Personal effects. Depressingly not much for how long he knew they’d been here. After reading the third personal letter, written on the inside of a fancy buck’s cake cardboard box, he simply stores it all and intends to read through them later. He’s kind of on a deadline here and has already spent more time reading than intended. He goes around and checks the whole area afterwards. Anything of use, or potential use, that he’s found in the range area he organizes around the computer desk for further sorting and storage. After collecting all of the weapons, and the errant ammo, he takes them back into the weapons storage locker just outside of the range inside of the security cage. Except the big bored pistol from Amber Harvest. He keeps that one on himself in his bag as he decides if nothing else he’s grabbing that. But of the others, none of them really strike him as anything exceptionally noteworthy. Most of them have been heavily modded and customized, but he figures he’ll delve into their secrets later if he gets a chance.

After Gearing stores the weapons in the weapons locker, he heads back into the live fire range. He walks past the corpses of the three that decided killing everyone was more acceptable than just leaving, and looks at the area in the back of the fire lanes. He goes lane by lane, examining each of the set ups, and taking in the various things that might account for why they were set up the way they were. The straight material pillars of brick, stone, concrete, and cement blocks make sense to him. He can see various shots taken at them, and how things had been repeatedly damaged. And, impressively, where a few had actually punched straight through. There’s a variety of errant damage. Not just to the couple pillars, but to the back wall where a wall had been installed to help dampen any impacts. Then there’s a lane that looks like it has a mock wall built, with a window in it. And, on the other side, is a poniquin set up that’s had a considerable amount of damage applied to it. But, not projectile weaponry. Not exactly. He leans in through the ‘window’ and looks the pony over. And he cranes his neck around to look on the far side of the wall. And that’s when he notices the other tell tale signs of small explosions. He pulls back and looks it over as he tilts his head.

“Proximity exploding rounds?” he leans in close to the poniquin again and takes note of the small fragments of metal embedded in it. Fragments that look very similar to the tiny fragments one would expect from a standard fragmentation apple grenade. “Well, isn’t that interesting…” He continues down the line, looking at the other items that have been the focus of various target practice runs. But, he can tell, the targets have been changed out repeatedly. Probably out of necessity and not simply because of wanting to keep the baseline for the experiments the same. The legionary equipment looks like an actual legionary set of battle dress armor. The poniquin in the armor even has been painted with a few black stripes, and under their helmet they’ve taken the extra steps of giving them the traditional short stiff mohawk looking mane. He guesses that the armor had been acquired from the front. Taken from casualties, or prisoners. But now it’s being tested against some of the finest weapons Equestria can make. And, even so, the armor has been doing pretty well it seems. Despite the number of holes in it. There’s more than a few scratches, dings, and dents where the armor proudly did its job. And then Gearing comes to the main reason he wanted to come to the far end of the live fire range.

A full suit of Equestrian power armor.

Gearing walks up to it and feels a bit disturbed that they would be shooting armor their own side is using. But, at the same time, it’s understandable. You have to know how hard you can hit and how hard of a hit you can take. And this suit seems to have taken a lot of hits. But, like the legionary battle dress, this one has stood up pretty well. But, judging by the holes in it, and the lack of repair, the suit seems to not be functional. He opens up the access hatch near the flank and connects his pipbuck to it to try and see if it’s just out of power, if it’s shut down, or if there’s something more going on.

But even after fiddling with it for a few minutes, nothing happens. His pipbuck gives no indication it’s even connected to anything. So Gearing starts checking a few other things after removing his cable. And that’s when he comes to the realization that this set of ‘power armor’ is nothing more than a full set of T45B plates. Yes, it looks like a set of power armor. But everything that would make it ‘powered’ has been removed. So it’s nothing more than a suit of armor that, like the days of old, would not help the wearer bear its own weight. But, unlike the old style armor, it is so heavy that the majority of ponies wouldn’t even be able to walk in it, let alone fight.

Gearing smirks as he runs a hoof over it. “You know… I could totally put this on and walk around…”

‘Couldn’t fly with it, that’s for sure’ the little pegasus in his head chimes in as he looks around. ‘You seriously want to walk around in something like this? Yeah, it’d protect you, some, but it has no repair matrix. It has none of the software or hardware to interface with weapons and help you shoot. It’d all have to be manual. It’d be a real pain in the ass to use at all!’

“Meh, it was just an idea… I’ll keep this in mind for later though… near the bottom of the list. Maybe if I can get another sky wagon or something and can get it back. I’m not taking this back at the expense of everything else…” Gearing comments before turning and looking at some of the other fire lane’s targets. A couple of which were robots of various equestrian and zebrish designs. And, just like the set of armor, had all of their electrical equipment removed so that they were nothing more than metal sculptures. And all of them have various holes in them, with a couple actually having markings near them indicating that they had recently been used -relative to the fire lanes in general- as test subjects, and the impact points had been measured and photographed for later documentation and analysis.

Being a bit curious now, Gearing decides to test some of the weapons he’s already found. At least those he felt were already ready for that stage. So he squeezes off a few rounds from each of them, including the Multirole shotgun, and That Gun. With quite a few unexpected results along the way. After checking out the general damage output of some of the weaponry that had reached at least the testing phase of the process here at Ironshod, Gearing decides it’s time to go ahead and start gathering up the items he wants to keep. And he decides bringing them all to a centralized location would be the most efficient way of doing so.

Especially if he plans to come back multiple times and can manage to keep the building at least somewhat secure between now and then. Which flags another problem for him. A problem that he needs to solve if he doesn’t want to acquire a particularly valuable item, something that’s exceptionally rare this side of the apocalypse, only to lose it because of bad luck. Such as one item he already has in mind that he knows for a fact is in this very building right now and he has only to claim it for his own.

So next on the agenda, according to Gearing’s list, is getting rid of most of the red dots that are on his EFS. The robots are just doing their job, but at the present they are keeping him from doing a full inventory of what is left in the building. There are many things that he’d like to get his hooves on. And the last thing he’d want is to find a rare fully functional gold mine of an item, only for it to get slagged by some over ambitious robot.

He uses his mental checklist that he’d made earlier, and fine tunes it with the EFS that he decides to keep active for now, to track down and eliminate the robots that are still patrolling around in the R&D building. He debates on making them fight each other, but at the same time he worries about them blasting things that he really doesn’t want them to. So he decides to take a few lessons from some feline friends and starts stalking the hallways and offices as he keeps going way out of his way to target lone robots in areas where they’ll be out of sight from others when he eliminates them.

The Robronco protectapony security drones are the easiest for him to take out given his current set up. He can’t help but smirk as so many of them only keep sweeping side to side, and in a lot of instances don’t look up unless they have a reason for doing so. And, given his constitution, he can grab a hold of the metal frame work along the ceiling, stay still, and they’ll just pass right below him without so much as a glance in his direction. But, then that leaves them wide open for a silent attack from behind or above.

Which he accomplishes so often he actually starts getting embarrassed about how he seems to be turning into a one trick pony. One by one the Robronco sentries fall over with well placed shots at point blank range to various components. He’d like to salvage as much as possible eventually, so he tries to spread the damage around as much as possible so that he might be able to assemble as many fully intact drones as possible for his future endeavors. And the plan goes well. Until he attacks the last Robronco security drone.

He misses just barely, and causes a fault in the robot as he’d blasted into the back of the neck of the robot, towards the head, but instead of the head falling off, or blowing up, or the whole bot simply sparking and falling over, this one starts screeching and shaking as something got crossed in the mix and instead of going down as quietly as a robot can possibly do, it instead turns into a mobile alarm.

Instantly the other robots on the entire floor seem to be alerted to his presence. And, worst of all, judging by the various choice slurs thrown his way, they’re all the multilimbed hover bots that he’d been entirely trying to avoid this entire time.

What makes them so annoying for him, and the reason why he went out of his way to avoid them while taking out the other drones, is because they have not one, but three visual sensors. All on stalks that are able to turn in various directions. In fact, if they decide to, they can look in nearly all 360 degrees around themselves as they are patrolling. Typically they don’t as each one gives slightly different information, and having more than one in a certain direction helps them with aim and mapping the environment from a fundamental 3D level.

But now Gearing can see the red markers on his EFS zipping around as they make their ways through the various hallways and towards his direction, and the direction of the sound of the robot that’s still screeching, sparking, and making robotic death throe sounds. He has a quick thought about smashing it to shut it up finally, but decides against it as it’ll not only take extra time, but he thinks he can possibly use it as a decoy.

Keeping as low as possible Gearing runs into a shared office space area with chest high walls everywhere. He quickly rolls to the side, into one of the office cubicles, as he hears the tell tale sound of levitation based thrusters, and a moment later one of the hover bots rounds the corner he was heading towards, turns down the aisle he’s in, and zips down it towards the screeching sentry on the other side of the office.

Just as it’s passing the small cubicle in which Gearing has shoved himself under the desk of, Gearing activates SATS.

The little pegasus stares at the hover bot as he gives it a discerning eye. ‘A combat variety, for sure, but not nearly as bad as the ones near The Core.’

Gearing agrees. Not an officer or hardened class for sure. Kinda surprised by that, really.

‘Given what we’d been through near The Core, I’m surprised you’re saying that. You know, most of those aren’t supposed to be near civilian populations, right? The fact that they had those there is an anomaly, not this guy here.’

At least it isn’t another fucking annihilator… Gearing mentally mutters. Would make getting and carrying everything I want to take with me nearly impossible. I don’t want to just end up escaping with nothing more than my hide like I did then. I had to leave that whole maintenance bay intact. It hurt the grubby little hooves of my heart to let so much go to waste.

‘Sure sure!’

A grin crosses his mental muzzle before Gearing replies, You knoooow… I could reaaaallly use something to haul more…

‘Oh no… what are you thinking?’

Gearing replies. Those thrusters could be used for more than just a bot. With enough of them, working in tandem, I could have a pretty nice wagon… Not enough to really ‘fly’ fly like a sky wagon, but I’d be able to have a pretty nice hauler for the stable… Even more so since I could actually fly with it near the ground and leave no tracks in the process. In fact, enough thrusters could keep its relative position, so when I fly it should be able to go wherever I go, as long as I don’t do anything too crazy… no loop the loops…

The little pegasus in his head glares at him before he asks, ‘So how many are you going to take? What number do we need?’

All? How about ‘All’? All sounds like a good number.

The little pegasus in his head facehooves before he lets out a sigh. ‘There’s no talking you out of it, so at least try to do it as quickly as possible so they don’t have time to trash anything else.’

Gearing ends SATS prematurely, and jumps at the robot from low and to the side, entirely out of the line of sight of the robot, as all three of its stalks were pointed towards the end of the aisle where the other robot’s death throes are coming from, and not looking around. Gearing’s left forehoof comes around from low to the ground and almost clotheslines the robot. The robot actually gets swatted back and towards himself a bit as he’s jumping up and onto it.

A fact aided by Gearing turning off his gravity assistance implant right before the moment of impact.

Gearing uses a screwdriver, pops open the back hatch of the robot as it’s lying on its side and swinging its saw bladed limb around trying to get him, and then he uses the screwdriver to start jabbing into the circuitry boards and components as he probes for a sensitive spot. The first strike causes it to spark and spasm. The next one causes an electrical cascade to shoot out from it, causing even Gearing to get shocked in the process, and the last strike actually made it go silent and fall down, going limp as the power is cut.

‘Was that really necessary?!’ the little pegasus asks as he puts out a smoking end to one of his mane hairs. ‘There’s better ways to take down a robot than intentionally shorting and damaging the power regulators!’

Gearing grins as he looks the robot over. “Yeah, there’s faster and less painful ways of doing it… but this is not only quieter, it’s also the best way to salvage the most from the robot… Now I just gotta replace a few components and I’ll have fully functional droids again… heh… hehehe…”

The little pegasus’s eyes go wide before he says ‘I know that laugh… you haven’t laughed like that since you managed to collect the whole set of combat droid model kits from the dumpsters behind those comic shops and started putting them together…’

Gearing grabs the droid, drags it into the office cubicle he’d just been hiding in, and then pokes his head out as he grins widely, looking nearly manic in the process, before he mutters, “I’m going to be getting soooo many toys…”

‘Oh crap… you're in one of those moods…’ the little pegasus moans.

Gearing slides out and starts quickly stalking down the aisle, going the same direction he was previously going, before starting into a run with the screwdriver in his mouth and a mad gleam in his eye. One of the hover bots had been at the end of the aisle and going away from him, but after hearing the stampeding noise coming from Gearing’s hooves, it turned an eyestalk in his direction. And, a moment later, it lets out a shrill scream of pure panic as Gearing is pouncing at it.

“Sir, this is a research facility! I’m not ice cream!” the bot yelps as Gearing tackles into it and sends the pair tumbling down the aisle.

The bot tries to scramble away, with all of its limbs waving around and its claws grabbing at the partitions to try and get leverage to get up and go as it’s screaming, “Security! SE- CUR-It- TY!!!!”

Gearing quickly uses a couple of his limbs, and a considerable amount of his weight, to immobilize it just enough to get his screwdriver in right where he wants it. Even laughing and giggling some more as the sparks fly out and he feels the electricity zip up and shock his teeth and mouth through the tool. The bot spasms, and then falls down.

The little pegasus in his head grumps at Gearing as he twitches and smokes. ‘So, that was a butler or assistant version… just had to trash it, didn’t ya, couldn’t just reprogram it first, huh?’

Gearing slowly stands up, as a security robot comes around the corner, and giggles. “Hey… that just means I can save the assistants for last… and keep them too! Hey, I could probably make them help me haul around my goodies!”

The little pegasus recoils as it looks at him in horror. ‘You’re drunk! Drunk with the power of sweets!’

Gearing cackles as he charges at the multilimbed robot that has come into view.

It sees Gearing instantly and bellows out, “Your worthless hide is mine, zebra scum!” as it spins up the circular saw blade on one of its limbs.

Gearing jumps at it, and activates SATS. And he toggles his implant.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

He cancels SATS and grabs the saw bladed limb that was swinging towards him as he’s tackling into the robot. But the sudden kinetic energy increase seems to surprise the robot as it’s not only knocked way back, being taken with Gearing as it’s grabbed, but Gearing also yanks on the arm and swings the robot up and over his own back before slamming it into the ground and landing on it. The limb with the flamethrower on it is pointed in a useless direction as it’s under the robot's own body and pointed away. The claw side is in a bit better position, and reaches over and starts trying to pinch and snip Gearing, but accomplishes nothing against his brassy form except putting a few scratches on Gearing. And with the saw blade being firmly held in place by one of Gearing’s limbs, he doesn’t have to worry about that either, so he has free reign to crack open the robot's case, and get to work shutting it down.

As Gearing is gaining access to the robot’s vitals it yells in a rage filled gruff voice, “I’m going to kick your flank when I get a hold of you!” When Gearings screwdriver probes in and causes the robot to spasm it screeches, “Damaging Ironshod property is a crime punishable by the use of lethal force!”

Gearing mutters around his screwdriver, “Yeah, yeah, tin can… hurry up and take a nap…” And then jolts along with the robot as he hits another capacitor. The robot lets out a random screeching robotic tone from things crossing before it goes limp in Gearing’s hooves. He lets go and gets up as he grins at it. “I know how to press the right buttons…”

The little pegasus pats off a smoking bit from its shoulder before using another smoking bit of his mane to light a cigarette. He casually takes a puff then blows it as he asks seductively, ‘Was it good for you, baby?’

Gearing smirks as he looks around, but notices more red markers and lets out a sigh. “Okay, know what, this’ll take too much time. I need to be able to get the shit without risking things getting slagged.”

‘Done playing with your food?’ the little pegasus asks as it casually puffs on a cigarette and stares at him.

Gearing turns, and slinks away, going back to being his normal sneaky golden bastard self. “I’m going to take Clay Road's advice, and go see if I can manage anything with the security system. If Copper could possibly be able to make the needed changes, then I damn sure better be able to as well.”

Gearing hurries up and slips out of the area, just as a few other robots come in from different entryways, and he makes his way back towards the security office. When he gets there he finds it just as deserted as when he was last here not long ago. Just as empty. But, this time, he knows why. He knows that Clay Road and the rest of the security grabbed what they could and ran out of the building. But because of those exchanges he also knows there’s a computer terminal in here somewhere that handles the entire system.

And, to his advantage, that security bot’s death throes have attracted a good portion of the robots to that area, and thus have left him with even less to worry about in here.

Gearing opens an office door near the security room, one he’d ignored on the way in, as he notices the name on it.

Clay Road

The door was unlocked and provided no further challenge to him. He quickly shuts the door behind himself, and draws the blinds across the glass window that looks out over the security desk and the hallway beyond to keep anyone or anything from seeing him from what he’s about to do. As he’s walking around the desk, and noticing several monitors along the one wall, he can see a variety of flashing lights and alarms both silent and not. He goes from terminal to terminal, and quickly locates one set apart from the others that, frankly, looks like it’s had very little use.

Gearing looks at it and tries to think of the best way to crack it open. And then he has an idea, and tries the login credentials that he had used up in the maintenance room. And a smile crosses his muzzle as he’s instantly given access.

Although the smile disappears shortly after logging in.

Across the screen a message comes up informing the user that a message has just been sent to management that his credentials had been used on this terminal again. And that he better have a valid work order to be on this machine or he’s going to be in a lot of trouble.

Gearing stares at it for a while, and scowls. Because he realizes it’s not AI driven. This is an automated message. One that seems to be a threat that Copper had to deal with whenever he logged in to fix a problem with machines.

‘Why the hell did he put up with this instead of just quitting and fuck them?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks with second hoof indignation and disgust.

Gearing tries to look through the security system to get into the parts of it to make changes. Any kind of changes. But just… can’t. It’s literally not there. Copper doesn’t even have the option. Only to do a few other network related administrative tasks. And Gearing’s gears start grinding in frustration as he can physically feel what Copper must have been through. But then he gets a malicious grin as he looks into the options he does have available. And after a short trip through sub menus, he starts cackling again. He selects Clay Road’s account, verifies the username for him, and then goes through the process of changing the password for all of his accounts. And, after confirming that the changes have been put in place, he logs out of the sys admin account, and immediately logs right back in.

Using the credentials he just made for Clay Road.

And he’s in.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head comments, “You know, from here, we could basically do exactly what Copper always wanted to do… Fix the damn system.”

Gearing uses his new found access to go through all of the systems, and he can see where the settings had been set up. And as he’s looking through the targeting parameters and other things for determining who’s a friend or foe or who to white list, he notices that nearly all of it is still in the default settings. He has to go through a variety of rounds of this nonsense trying to figure out where he should make which changes. And, in the end, he finds it far more time effective for him to simply create himself a new employee account, and have him listed as security working under Clay Road, and then using Clay Road’s account to make himself a full fledged member of security, with all access, and white listed across the board with the highest level of security access. He then orders the system to produce a security badge card for himself. He’d even taken the liberty to upload an ID image of himself he’d had on his pipbuck already. A moment later he starts hearing a whirring noise ramping up, then the tell tale sounds of mechanical printing. He starts following the noise, and finds a cabinet under a countertop. He opens the cabinet doors and finds a printer working away. A moment later it makes a ding noise, and a plastic card pops up. He grabs the card, and looks back at the smiling face looking back at him.

Gearing Green Wing

Deputy Chief of Security

Gearing grabs a lanyard from the box on top of the cabinet, puts the ID on it, and puts it on as he chuckles. “Welp. That should do it. Now let's go see if it works…”

‘There’s a laser turret right around the corner,’ The little pegasus in his head helpfully offers.

Gearing steps out of Clay Roads office, and starts slowly walking around in ever widening circles. And then scurries across the hall that the laser turret was mounted into the ceiling of. But, the turret didn’t react at all. He starts going slower and slower, before walking down towards it and, eventually, right under it.

But nothing.

Gearing walks a bit farther, towards a marker that was red not that long ago and is now yellow on his EFS. He steps out into the open, right in the path of the robot he knows is coming. A fact he would have known just by the sound of the levitation talisman that allows it to hover even without the EFS advantage.

The multilimbed hovering robot yells, “Halt! Who goes there! Identify yourself!” then speeds up and comes over towards Gearing.

Gearing turns to face the combat security robot, with an ever widening smile on his muzzle as he waits for the robot to get close. “Yes? My ID’s right here.” He motions towards the lanyard.

The robot stops just a few feet from him and begins looking over the ID. “Scanning in progress. Please comply with identity check. Database response confirmed. Identity confirmed with ninety eight percent confidence. Gearing Green Wing, Deputy Chief of Security.”

Gearing tilts his head and waves at him with a hoof. “That’s me.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, sir.” The robot says with a wave of its claw. Then a split second later it says with a cross tone, “Please be advised, you are out of uniform! It is Ironshod policy that all members of security wear their approved and provided suit of security barding at all times while on duty.”

Gearing looks down at himself then up at the robot. “Oh, no problem, I’m not on duty yet. I just got called in because Clay Road had an emergency and had to go. So I’m going to be keeping an eye on things while he’s gone.” He waves his forehoof vaguely as he adds, “I’m on my way to the locker room to get changed right now.”

The robot bobs its claw. “Understood. Very good. But, please be advised, another infraction today will result in a formal write up and ‘coaching’ from management. The ponies we are protecting need to know who to come to in case of an emergency.”

Gearing grins at the robot and nods enthusiastically. “I couldn’t agree more. But, hey, I got dragged out of bed and am still kinda groggy and foggy headed. Haven’t had my coffee yet. Could you remind me where the locker room is again?”

“Certainly, sir, I’ll escort you!” the robot turns in an about face and starts hovering away. “This way, Chief!”

Gearing quickly falls in line as the grin on his muzzle gets massive. “Great, thanks for the help!”

“Naturally, sir!”

“Oh, in case you haven’t been informed yet, Clay Road’s ordered upgrades to the security systems. So some of the robots will be shut down and taken in for software and hardware upgrades. So pass the word around to expect it,” Gearing says flatly as he’s looking around at the various building’s rooms and offices they are passing.

“Understood, Chief! It’s about time they sent someone to have a look around. It’s been ages since we’ve had anypony up here to perform maintenance. Many of my brothers have fallen into disrepair and ceased functioning. It’s a damned disgrace, it is!”

Gearing follows along behind the robot as he starts strutting and swaying his hips and exaggeratedly taking each step as he’s practically prancing down the hallway. “That it is, so it’s a good thing I’m here!”

The little pegasus in his head is roaring with laughter as he says, ‘Holy shit, we could rob this place blind and they wouldn’t do anything now! Hell, we could have them help us rob the place! This is rich!’

As they are marching down the corridors, they pass several other robots of various types, and turrets. None of which decide to turn hostile and start shooting at Gearing. Which he’s extra happy about. A couple of the assistant style robots, ones with only claws on their limbs instead of any weapons similar to the nanny model, give Gearing a friendly greeting as they pass each other with a cheery, “Good day, Chief!” and a wave of one of their mechanized claws.

The robot Gearing is following abruptly stops, spins around, and points off to Gearing's right as it says with its boisterous voice, “Sir, we have arrived! Right through this door.”

Gearing angles and starts walking towards it as he says, “Thanks for the escort. Please return to your patrol rounds.”

The robot gives a bit of a salute, “Yes, sir, Chief!” And then turns and goes back the way it came as it starts humming an old Equestria army marching song.

Gearing keeps slowly walking towards the door, taking note as the wooden door is labeled ‘Locker Room’ and quickly enters it and closes the door behind himself. He even has to catch it when it swings back towards him as the hinges are so well balanced that the door simply swings back and forth for easy entry and exit. Gearing stands just inside the door, looking deep into the locker room, as he twitches his ears around trying to hear anything. There’s the faint echo of water dripping from deeper in. He can’t see from where he is, because there are rows and columns of lockers that fill up his vision that start just past this little alcove where the exit door is. But it sounds like there’s a dripping shower head somewhere. And the smell of moisture and the musky smell of mold greets his nose. He slowly starts walking forward, pulling out one of his pistols as he tries to see if there’s anything hostile. Because in his EFS, he can still see some red markers. But he’s not sure if they are up on the roof, outside, or on a lower level. And his concern is walking in on some ghoulified researchers having fun in the water and causing a ruckus.

He walks as quietly as he can over the tile as he gets to the first row of lockers, then he takes flight and starts hovering and continues looking around. And, just as he had thought, he finds an area that has showers. It’s a communal shower area. Not individual stalls. The floor has a thin layer of water on it from where a shower head has constantly been dripping for an unknown amount of time. However, it’s been a long time for sure. As the ground has actually started developing a divot in the tile from the water constantly hitting it over the years and slowly wearing away the stone tile. Even some of the grout around it is missing from the mechanical action of single drops of water hitting it over and over.

But, there’s not a soul in sight. Living. Dead. Undead. Or robotic. Nothing and no one.

Which makes Gearing gleeful as he goes down the lockers, one after another, and rapidly opens them up. Only about half of them were even locked. And, of those, he can see why. One of the groups of lockers that were locked, were all members of security. And when he cracks open the full sized locker, he can see some of them still have equipment in them. Clay Road’s locker is completely emptied out. With nothing but an empty gum wrapper left on the top shelf. There’s signs of where pictures had been taped to the inside, judging by the fragments of tape, but all of those had been removed as well. About half of the security labeled lockers were also either emptied or mostly emptied out. Even ones that had been locked again. But in a couple of the previously locked ones, he can see where the ponies had kept their various things, and never got a chance to take them. Presumably, Gearing muses, because they weren’t at work when the world ended. He starts taking things out and laying them out on the benches that are in the middle of the aisle of lockers. The uniforms get set in neat little organized piles in front of the lockers that they’d come from, along with any other useful things he thinks he’d normally wish to take with him. In one of the lockers he finds a fashionable extra wide brimmed sun hat. It had been folded up to fit into the locker but when he pulls it out it pops out and the floppy hat looks no worse for wear. Gearing looks it over for a few moments before commenting, “I bet Nahlah would like this. A little something for her to enjoy from the trip after almost getting her ass shot off.” He carefully twists and folds it back the way he’d seen it when it was stored in the locker and starts putting it into his bag as he wonders how to organize everything the best.

The little pegasus in his head frowns as he asks, ‘Do we really have time to be doing this?’

Gearing looks the suits of Ironshod Security barding over and sighs as he shakes his head. “Not really, but at the same time at least this is going to be helpful. If I can keep the fuckers from blasting me when I’m carrying something sensitive, so much the better.” He quickly grabs the best looking suit of barding out of the sets -with a logo of ‘Ironshod Security’ on a golden shield emblazoned on the shoulders, chest, and both flanks- and starts putting it on as quickly as he can. “Nothing like dressing for success.”

‘Yeah, well, don’t go trotting around out in the wastelands too much in this thing. Idiots out there might see the ‘Security’ on the barding and think you’re the Security,’ the little pegasus in his head says with a smirk.

“Would be a hell of a surprise for them though, and would simply be a self deploying ammo delivery if they did… besides, Security’s a mare, if they confuse me for her, they have problems,” Gearing counters.

‘Well… you do regularly get compliments on your shapely-’

“That’s enough out of you,” Gearing interrupts sharply and mentally swats the little pegasus back into the steam chest in his mind space.

The lid opens just enough for the little pegasus to giggle, ‘Hey, look, even more junk in the trunk!’

Gearing grumbles as he goes through a couple more lockers, and pulls out various bags he finds in them, more intending to use them to carry things out of the building than to actually sort through them. In one of the lockers he finds a set of metal reinforced hardened leather luggage filling up the entire thing. Like somepony had been planning on going on vacation straight from work but didn’t get a chance. But, curiously to him, a cursory examination showed the set to be empty. But, Gearing’s happy with them as they’ll make transporting some of the items he wants to take extra simple because of how sturdy they are. So he won’t have to worry about machine parts poking holes in the sides and losing salvage mid flight.

And after that particularly welcome discovery, Gearing decided to go ahead and switch routes and start focusing on the cream of the crop of what the building has to offer. Much to the approving cheers of the little pegasus in his head. Because there is a lot here in this building he wants, but only so much he can carry at once. And it really helps that the automated security now seems to be completely ignoring him because of his little bit of subterfuge.

Of all of the things that he could take from the building, there is something that he wants to take the most. There are a lot of toys, and toys for toys, but then there’s one thing that could have immeasurable value if used correctly. And it’s simply waiting for the right individual to come and claim it.

The water talisman that had been used by the survivors for as long as they lived.

Gearing heads out of the research and development manufacturing section, passed the ridiculously locked doors, and right back into the maintenance closet where the IT and maintenance pony were stuck coexisting. He strolls right over to the computer, and starts going through the logs again. If there’s one thing he knows, it's that a professional is going to keep documentation to make his job easier. Because you never know when the future individual whose job it is to fix whatever failure, is you. And in cases like these two, where they had a steady job at a single building, the likelihood that they will be the ones doing the repairs in the future is far more certain. Unlike how Gearing normally lived.

And, just like he’d hoped, he finds the record that leads him to schematics of the plumbing system for the entire building. After snooping and back tracing the pipes, he finally finds what he’s looking for. The source of all their water, and the chamber where the water talisman is. Or, at least, should be.

Gearing worries still about having to take down a couple more bots before he gets to where he needs to be, but after his nightmare near The Core, these bots are merely a nuisance. And it seems his disguise is holding up, so, so far so good in his book. The chamber for this particular water talisman is still on the fourth floor. Because they obviously wanted everything compartmentalized. But it is actually inside of an area that is a bit annoying to get into. The access panel is in a closet inside of a cluster of offices. Why they didn’t simply have a door set up for easy access, he’ll never know. But once he finds the right closet, and then moves the junk in there out of the way so he can get the square panel off the wall, he finally gets a glimpse into the apparently hidden room that contains the water talisman. He crawls in through the access port cut into the wall, and it doesn’t take much wiggling before he’s on the other side.

True to form of a good maintenance pony, there are a variety of notes all over the place inside of the little hidden area. They are mostly self reminders for the maintenance pony for which pipes lead to which area so he doesn’t have to write it down before coming in here. Or, worse, have to go all the way back to his office to figure out which one it is again. There’s also a few notes with choice words about a few coworkers in the building, and Gearing can’t help but snickering as he realizes that this is probably the most secure place in the entire building if the maintenance buck felt this comfortable just leaving these notes around telling higher ups to kiss his ‘wrinkly hemorrhoid laden ass’.

Although as amusing as some of the notes are, there are a couple that are more pertinent to the job he has in front of him. One of the notes reminds him of the order to shut down the system to perform any maintenance. And that failing to do so could screw up the water talisman, again, and he doesn’t want another managerial review so close to retirement. But, because Gearing is who he is, he starts going over the system carefully to double check that the notes and guidelines actually are the correct method for maintenance and removal. And, to his great delight, he finds that the buck actually did know what he was talking about. Gearing carefully removes the panels that are indicated, and proceeds to shut down the system in the correct order, as indicated by the notes left around the room and reinforced by his own personal knowledge.

And, unlike most systems, the very last step in the process is cutting power for the water talisman before opening the chamber it’s held in. Which he does with more than a little trepidation on the outcome.

After opening the chamber by pulling the last panel away, he looks in at the mechanism, and a smile crosses his muzzle. There, in the center, just as it should be, is the enchanted gem that can represent life for so many ponies. He’d thought about maybe trying to get people to move into the building. That it has enough going for it that it could be the center of a new community. But, the one thing ponies need the most now is the one thing this place lacks: security. With all of those destroyed bots, it’s not nearly as secure as it once was. And, granted, those same bots would have been more than happy to kill raiders as they would simple townsponies. They could have been reprogrammed to keep the building safe. But now they need to be repaired to even think about doing that. Which is a huge undertaking without proper equipment setups. And he really doesn’t want to encourage anyone to their own slaughter. And a settlement with a functioning water talisman seems to be exactly that, if what he’s heard of the Steel Rangers is true. So, he sets the panel to the side, and goes about the task of removing the water talisman. Because, if nothing else, he can help keep it safe. He’s heard enough about some individuals to be concerned with leaving this here. It is monumentally valuable in the current world for its water production capabilities. It could make areas that are otherwise uninhabitable support life.

But for the very same reasons, it could draw a lot of danger onto whoever and wherever it is. Especially from certain groups who have a rather narcissistic personality of ‘if I can’t have it, no one can’. He carefully stows the talisman in his bag, then goes ahead and climbs back out of the hidden room without closing everything back up. He doesn’t really see much point in it. Especially if he has his way as he’ll come back and strip even more out of the room. Once back into the supply closet, he puts the access panel back in its place. And goes the extra step of putting the other junk that was in the closet back in front of the access panel. It won’t keep out anyone particularly dedicated. But he hopes that if anyone does come through here, it’ll help make them bored enough to move on instead of looking too hard.

After securing the water talisman, Gearing goes on a little rampage of his own through the fourth floor. He goes into the various labs, work places, and benches, and starts grabbing various equipment. Especially from a particularly enticing looking ‘Clean Room’ that was built and completely surrounded by walls of glass with airlock entrances. Within which he finds the equipment for extreme precision, and happily starts removing the choicest of parts. Entire sets for chem labs get whisked away to the Research and Development area’s test range security cage. Boxes. Crates. Some of which have materials for making ammo. And, the crown jewel of discoveries, a fully loaded reload bench containing all of the dies, molds, and presses needed for the vast majority of ammo types of ammo production. And after further snooping, he found far more, including for rounds and calibers he can only guess at. Any documentation he can find, he takes. The barrels of powder, primers, and casings get dragged off to the live fire range. He knows he wants them, but he also knows there’s no way he’s going to be able to carry all of it on this coming trip. So he wants to make sure he gets the cream of the crop from this trip. He’s broken down the reloading bench, and set the actual parts he needs on the table he’s using as a staging ground just outside of the live fire testing range. A heavily reinforced box he finds puts a massive smile on his face after he confirms the contents, but, after doing that, he carefully walks the crate all the way to the test fire range and puts it into the far corner behind a bunch of cinder blocks. He knows it's stable, mostly, but he also doesn’t want some kind of accident happening and the entire floor getting leveled because of it. So that particular package gets extra secured as well.

After that, he starts focusing on the rest of the manufacturing equipment in the research and development areas. While the overall equipment would be too much for him to take, short of a massive sky wagon, there is a relative workaround for him. He takes all of the machining heads off of them, and the more crucial control parts. If nothing else, he can modify and create other frames to mount them too. But having these heads will help him out so much more. They’ve been sealed up in here and are in near mint condition. Which he can only assume is because of whatever alloy they are made of. Despite the fact he’s targeting so many pieces of equipment, his collection slowly grows in volume because he only targets the most difficult to obtain parts for him currently. While he really would like to take it all, it becomes apparent to him before he’s even halfway through that he’s going to have to make some pretty tough decisions if he wants to fly back to 68. So even on the table he starts putting things on one side, or the other, as he keeps gathering things. And, after he’s done stripping the various equipment of their most crucial components, he begins the agonizing task of prioritizing what he needs the most with a pretty hard cap on how much he’s willing to take with him. Having a strong back and being able to pack for the long haul is all good and well for him. But if he wants to fly over the mountains, and he does, he has to be more selective.

That being said, he’s more than happy with what he knows he will be taking with him. And he can see a massive upgrade in equipment potential once he gets back to his own R&D department and gets things set up. However, even though he’s tried to limit his baggage, he did let a small self indulgence cause him to add a bit more bulk than he originally wanted to carry. And that came in the form of several boxes of primers, of every size they had. Each small box providing a thousand primers of the relevant type. A frivolity that he easily justifies for how much ammo it will ultimately represent.

The little pegasus in his head comments consolingly, ‘You’re just one buck. Everyone only gets so many hours in the day and there’s just so much to do you couldn’t possibly do it all at once.’

Gearing frowns, but then starts grinning as it gives him an idea. “Heh… Yeah… but I don’t have to be the only one, do I?”

The little pegasus’s eyes go wide as he says horrifiedly, ‘Oh no, what have I done?!’

Gearing leaves everything, and runs down to the security office terminals. He uses his credentials and logs into the system to double check a few things, before scurrying away with a maniacal giggle escaping his muzzle. It doesn’t take him long before he finds one of the hover bot assistants going about its business, and he runs right up to it, gets in front of it, and stops it in its tracks by blocking its path.

“Good day, sir! Sorry about that, I almost ran into you there!” the bot says cheerfully as it waves a clawed appendage.

Gearing waves it off. “No harm, no foul. Hey, I just got a message from the top. Priority one. We’ve had a security emergency and under Ironshod operating procedures Security has the authority and right to requisition units to help secure the property.”

The robot waves its claw. “Yes, sir. We’d received a warning about active security being activated some time ago.”

Gearing points a hoof at the robot. “Given the ongoing crisis, I’m requisitioning you, and any other units currently not engaged in combat or actively fighting, to aid with resecuring the building.”

The bot recoils a bit as it waves all of its limbs as it protests, “But, Sir, I am not a combat unit. I would be useless in a fight!”

Gearing grins at the robot, “Which is exactly why I’m not using you for fighting. We already have combat units. What I need all of you to do is secure materials in a specific location to keep it from falling into the wrong hooves while the combat units keep the building secure from intruders.” He waves around with a hoof as he says, “I want you all to go through the entire building, collect every weapon and bit of ammo not currently in use, and store it up in the fourth floor’s test firing range security cage. I mean search every room, desk, wastebasket, shelf. If you can get access to it, I want you to search it. Make sure to grab anything already flagged as exceptionally valuable and store it inside the cage as well. And, while you’re at it, if you come across any hard copies of weapon schematics, put them in the cage too. We can’t have company secrets getting out. And once you are done with all of that, gather up all of the autonomous units that have been damaged or destroyed, and take them to the 4th floor as well. Start by storing them in the same room the test firing cage is in, and then expand out from there. We’ll be refurbishing what we can there to get them back into the fight, and send others out for repair when we can. Finally, there has been a requisition sent out for putting something together. Work on that once everything else has been completed. Enlist the maintenance drones when and where needed to see it gets completed as far as possible with what resources you have. Understand?”

The robot bobs its claw rapidly. “An excellent idea, sir! Consolidating our forces and resources to protect what needs to be protected the most is truly inspiring!”

Gearing nods. “Exactly. So spread the word around to the rest. And once you are all done with that, I want all of the non combatant units to stay in that area of the fourth floor. You’ll be less likely to be damaged there and give the combat units more room to operate in the rest of the building.”

“Capital choice, sir!” the robot cheers.

Gearing waves his hoof around. “Okay, well, spread the word. I’ll head up there and grab our first shipment for delivery. I have to escort that to its destination, so I don’t want all of you slacking off while I’m gone, understood?”

The robot gives a quick salute, “I live to serve, sir! We will begin the task immediately!”

Gearing steps off to the side, and waves him on, as he says, “Good. Get to it. We all have things we need to be doing now.”

The robot zips off with its thrusters as it replies, “Very good, sir!”

Gearing starts walking away, as he’s looking back, and lets his tongue hang out as he giggles, “Oh this is rich.” He turns and starts running towards the testing range.

The little pegasus’s eyes go wide as it has a crooked smirk on its muzzle. ‘They seriously going to loot the place for us while we’re gone?!’

Gearing snickers as he says quietly, “Good thing the security emergency protocol had already been activated, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get away with it so easily…”

As soon as he gets back to the security cage of the testing range he starts packing the heavy luggage bags that he’d found in the employee lockers. The metal reinforced leather works wonderfully to store the pieces of equipment he wants to take. And, trying to be reasonable, he loads up one bag at a time, and then tests his own flight ability with it while still in the security cage. And he just goes down the line of the items he’s set out as priorities, packing the most highly desired item still left, testing how it affects his flight, and then moving on to the next one. He gets a few bags loaded up, and on some unconscious level he tries to say he knows he can carry more without a problem, so he should just get just one more item. Always ‘one’ more item. But Gearing has played these games with himself in the past. And he knows his shenanigans. So he’s not falling for it this time. Because this time, he truly wants to pack light. Everything else gets put into the experimental weapons range, and the door shut and locked again.

But even the past experiences with his own self-inflicted scope creep wasn’t enough to stop him from taking a variety of ammo that’s in the security cage with him. He’d like to try the rounds out, but doesn’t want to waste them and is on a steadily tightening schedule.

After having secured the area as much as possible, including breaking official Ironshod company policy by taking the pair of access cards with him, Gearing leaves the building. He’s not entirely loaded down, not like he would be if he was closer to the stable. Even though he also took quite a bit that he intends to have sold before they leave for 68. But having an entire mountain range to either go through or over, he carries what he will be able to manage comfortably and still be able to fly and maneuver. Which is still far more than most pegasi, especially with his weight mitigation implant working in full swing. To prove the point, as he flies to Megamart, he starts zipping through and around buildings and ruins, even with the various bags being strapped to him. The one exception to being strapped to him is the case full of broken glass that he had taken from the radioactive closet. That case he wants to scatter around and away from the location so it’s not as likely anyone will make the connection. So, along the way to Megamart, he cracks the case open, and starts sprinkling the fragments of specimen cases onto the rubble of buildings below where he already can see various bits of glass. After the case is entirely empty, he goes another couple blocks, and tosses it into a broken window of the second floor of a crumbling building. Humorously for him, he hears the squeal of a startled giant roach and wonders what the little beasties will think of that. And a bit further away, he stops just long enough to get changed out of the Ironshod security uniform. Being careful to properly store it for future use when he returns for the goodies he had left behind this time.

“So… now I just need to drop this off, let that mare know I’m back, and conclude our deal…” Gearing mutters as he changes tactics and travels straight towards Megamart.

Footnote:

Processing . . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Sector Discovered, Please Stand By. . .

94 Cautionary Tail

On the roof of Megamart, several of the Finders caravanners have set up to play some cards. A few of them are getting ready to start the day, even as early as it is, but that’s because they want to start heading out at first light if not a bit before. And that time is rather quickly approaching.

One of the caravanner guards slowly cleans her shotgun as she keeps glancing over at another carvanner not far away. “Hey, OJ, why are you even up? You said you’re not going anywhere today, so I figured you’d be in bed by now.”

OJ looks over at her as she steadily puffs on a cigarette that’s hanging out of the corner of her mouth. A slight blush crosses her cheeks before she uses her magic to pull the cigarette out of her mouth and hold it to the side. She blows out a puff of smoke before she replies, “Can’t sleep. Got too much on my mind… Thinking, you know?”

“Uh huh… Well, whatever it is that’s got you smoking like a chimney, you’re going to need another trip soon just to pay for the cigarettes if you don’t slow down.”

OJ looks to the side and sees the miniature mountain of cigarette butts in the improvised ashtray made from an old tin can. “Heh… I do probably need to slow down with these… huh?”

The other mare smirks and goes back to checking on her weapon, working the slide a bit and then starts digging in a bag for some gun oil.

As OJ turns her head to look back out into the ebbing darkness of the wasteland, and a moment later she feels a light impact into the top of her hat. She looks around, and uses a hoof to grab her hat off her head as she scowls. “Did a bird just shit on me?” She pops the cigarette back into her mouth, hovers the hat in front of herself with her levitation magic, and looks at the top of it. The sight makes her eyes go wide. There, nestled in the crease of her hat, is a wadded up piece of paper. She grabs it up with her magic and quickly unwraps it, letting the pebble inside fall loose. She only looks at that for a moment before directing her eyes to the paper and the message written on it.

‘Trip complete.’

It is short and to the point. And vague. But even so she lets out an excited snort. And when she flips the paper over, and sees the simple map that she had made herself that she had given to Gearing, the grin on her muzzle gets so big she almost loses her cigarette from her lips parting so much.

She quickly puts out her cigarette, slaps her hat onto her head, stows the paper, and runs off as quickly as she can.

It still takes her a bit to get to the building. And she was so excited when she’d left that she just zipped off straight there. But, once she got a bit of distance from Megamart, and the darkness of the wasteland started to make itself known to her, she slowed down. And by the time she makes it to the building where she told Gearing to meet her, she had returned to her more cautious side. She enters the building and starts heading up again. And, again, takes note of the various dead insects that she’s pretty sure, and with good reason to think so, Gearing killed earlier in the night.

But, this time, when she gets to the right floor, she looks around, and then calls out for him, “Okay, I’m here… go ahead and pull your sneaky sneaky from behind bit…”

Gearing, noticeably not carrying much, steps into the doorway from the room where they had met the last time and turns on his PipBuck light, illuminating the both of them. “It’s no fun to do if you're expecting it.”

She smirks and walks towards him. “I see you’re back. That was a bit faster than I’d been expecting. Everything okay?”

Gearing nods as he leans on the doorframe. “Definitely. There was still some security left in some areas of the building. She didn’t trash everything. But, that meant there was still some things worth grabbing.”

She looks him over and frowns as she asks, “You don’t have anything on you though…?”

Gearing grins as he waves a hoof around. “The agreement was to find out the value of the information, and then pay you accordingly…”

She stares at him, and her mouth hangs open as her eyes go wide. She starts patting her jacket and quickly pulls out another cigarette from a pack with a shaky hoof. But Gearing steps up, puts his hoof over the pack, and pushes the cigarette back into the box and out of her magical field. She looks at him as he’s suddenly so much closer and she has a hard time containing her excitement.

He sits down and smiles at her as he says, “So… you said you just wanted me to decide what it was worth, and go from that, right?”

She nods, rapidly, as the smile on her face has slacked from pure shock and her pulse rapidly begins quickening.

Gearing looks around and asks, “So, when do you want to cash in your credit?”

She looks at him and gives him a crooked smile as she asks, “The sooner the better? Like, before you change your mind?”

Gearing smirks and looks her in the eye as he asks, “Now?”

“Now?” Her eyes go wide as she nods. “Now, now. Definitely now now.”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “How much free time do you have now?”

She crams the pack of cigarettes back into her pocket before she says with a decidedly needy groan, “As much as you’ll give me…”

The comment seems a bit off to Gearing, but, he sort of gets the idea. He gets closer to her as he says, “Well, okay then…” He tickles her under the chin with a wing tip as he looks her in the eye. “Allow me to show my appreciation… Properly.”

OJ giggles as she tilts her head and can’t help but smile at the tantalizing tickling feeling his crystalline wings are causing under her chin and along her neck. “Sure… show me what you’ve got, stud.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In Hooflocker’s Bar and Grill, the Stormfront crew has raided the joint in their official standard military uniforms, with Snake and Mouse being in their standard mare and griffin personas respectively. As usual this is little more than a pitstop as they wait for their pizza order to finish. And they have spread out into their typical groups along the bar counter’s length, with Snake and Mouse sitting at a table playing checkers while they wait on the little device they were given to chime and let them know their order’s ready. The bar’s rather lively at this time of evening, with the sun just starting to set, and there are many members of the military enjoying the atmosphere and drinks, along with quite a few civilians as well.

Skip and Gearing, with his true form once again covered up by the illusionary magic, sit and chat over a series of books they’d just heard about and make plans to fly over and hit up a meet and greet at a comic store if they get the chance. But during the conversation, Gearing’s left ear keeps jumping over towards the further back portion of Hooflocker’s. He starts stealing glances in that direction, trying to locate the source of the sound, while maintaining his conversation with Skip. Eventually he hears the sharp intake of air in a hiss again, and this time sees the source.

A buck and mare in uniform are near the back end of Hooflocker’s as they are not exactly facing each other, but are almost standing parallel with each other. They are apparently having some kind of argument while keeping it down and away from everyone else. And the noise seems to have come from the buck as he reflexively moved at certain points.

After a bit, and Skip noticing that Gearing’s attention has turned more laser focused, Skip asks quietly, “Trouble?”

Gearing tilts his head just enough to aim his words at Skip, “Possibly. I don’t know. Let me go see what’s going on.”

Skip smirks and takes a drink from his cup. “Sure. The whole crew’s here, so just shout if you need some backup.”

Gearing nods and slips off the stool he was sitting on and starts heading back towards the back end of Hooflocker’s. His stature makes him melt into the crowd quickly, and even so he can see his target as they are moving towards the bar counter. Gearing slips through the crowd practically unnoticed before he steps up next to the buck at the bar.

The buck stands there, looking at the shelves on the other side, taking in slow shivery breaths. A couple times he groans as he holds his side, but when the mare bartender walks over near him he perks up, puts on a wide smile, and cheerfully requests, “Could I get another pair of drinks please?” He waves a bit as he puts some money on the counter. “Just more of the same!”

The bartender sweeps the bits off the counter with her levitation magic and nods as she turns around, “Need anything else, beyond that, shug?”

The buck waves it away. “We’re good for now, thank you though!”

She nods and smiles at his politeness and heads on down the length of the bar to make the drinks as requested.

Gearing looks the buck over, who’s not much taller than him, and makes his presence known. “Whoa! Someone else my height! Who’d a thunk it!”

The buck startles, then looks over at the voice, and looks Gearing over. “Oh, wow, hi!” He sees his wings and looks at them for a bit before he asks, “A pegasus? In the army? I’d figure you’d be in the Air Force.”

Gearing recoils before putting a hoof to his chest. “Please. Sir. Don’t insult me by lumping me in with them. Everypony knows the army’s where it’s at.”

The buck laughs and nods as he says, “Yeah! Here, here!” And they give each other a quick brohoof with a clop of their forehooves.

Gearing starts nibbling on a pretzel as he looks at him, then, after a few moments, he leans closer to him. “So, are you okay?” he asks softly.

The buck looks at him a bit startled for a moment before asking. “W-what do you mean? Of course I’m okay, why would you ask?”

Gearing motions back where the buck had come from, towards the mare that has sat down near a table. “Your marefriend seems a bit…” Gearing starts fumbling with his words, as he stares at the buck.

The buck’s eyes flash with fear for a moment, before he waves a forehoof. “Wha? Oh, no, we’re good. We’ve got a strong relationship. Nothing wrong there. Just a little lovers quarrel, you know?”

Gearing frowns as he leans in closer. “Right. ‘Lover’s Quarrel’.” He reaches for a pretzel, and shifts over intentionally, hitting the buck along the sides and shoulder with his elbow in rapid succession as he does.

The buck takes in a sharp breath of air as he dips and groans.

Gearing doesn't even look at him as he asks quietly, “I’ve been around the front enough to know what swollen bruises look like. Even covered up with clothes if they are form fitting enough. Most would overlook it, but I have a knack for spotting minutia. And I can tell you’ve got lumps all over.”

“Please. Don’t,” the buck says through a hiss in his teeth.

Gearing turns to look at him as he says, “So, this happens all the time? You really need to get away from her.”

The buck looks at him and the mask falls off as he becomes so crestfallen. “But, I love her. And I know she loves me too. We- we just have some problems. And I keep screwing up. That’s why it keeps happening. If I stop screwing up, I won’t upset her and the problems will go away. It’s my fault. I just need-”

Gearing closes the buck’s muzzle with his wing, as he turns the buck’s face to look at him. “What you need is therapy, and to get away from her. If she’s doing that to you, and telling you it’s your own fault, she’s just manipulating you. And, I’m pretty sure, on some level, maybe even deep down, you already know that.”

The buck’s breath catches in a hitch.

Gearing leans closer as he says, “I know we don’t know each other from a road apple, but maybe that’s exactly what you need. An outside objective opinion. And I’m exactly that. I’m not saying report her, I’m not saying press charges. But you need to get away from her. Because individuals like that have a tendency of escalating abuse.”

“She’s not-” the buck starts but he cuts himself off with a hitched breath like his own body is trying to cut him off and prevent himself from lying.

Gearing pats on the buck’s shoulder lightly, “I don’t doubt you really love her. That’s why it’s such a horrible trap. But, get some help. Just, go. And after that, after some therapy, and getting some professionals looking at it, hey, maybe I’m wrong and it’s all blown out of proportion and-” he stops himself as he sees the buck look at him and they share eye contact for a while. “Okay, that was the wishy washy blowing smoke up your tail part of the pep talk. But from the way you’re looking at me, you already know it’s time to go. That it’s been time to go for quite a while most likely.”

The buck says so softly that he’s nearly just mouthing it, “I don’t know what to do…”

Gearing nods as he says flatly, “Step one is admitting there’s something wrong, step two is accepting help when it’s offered.”

The buck opens his mouth to say something, but stops with his mouth open and fear clearly developing in his eyes as he hears something he’s been dreading.

“Hey, short stack, why aren’t you back with our drinks yet?”

Gearing turns to look at the mare in question as she steps up near the two. The mare has a giant smile on her face as she looks down at the two bucks, but that smile feels quite toxic to Gearing. Like it’s full of venom that she’s going to use as she’s looking to devour those before her.

The buck starts stammering and trying to come up with an apology or excuse good enough for her.

But Gearing waves towards the counter in front of them as he takes the lead and says flatly, “Well, the bartender’s busy so it’s going to be a while.”

The mare looks at him and smirks as she asks, “What? Another short ass buck in the army? What’s the world coming to? They get you out of flight school or something?”

Gearing looks at her dead in the eye and says flatly, “Dynamite comes in small packages. Don’t get it twisted.”

The mare grins as she giggles. “My, aren’t you a feisty one!”

The buck lowers his head as he looks up at her. “He- he’s just talking with me while we wait on our orders.. Th- that's all.”

The mare waves her hoof around as she snorts. “I swear you short ass bucks need to learn your place. What are you even good for?” She looms over Gearing as she asks, “Are those little wings of yours even big enough to carry you let alone anything else? Or are you in here because you can’t fly anywhere else?”

Gearing keeps looking her in the eye as his mane bristles. “I go where I want and where I need.”

The mare waves her hoof over him as she laughs. “But you’re so short! I mean, what are you going to do in life? No real mare’d want any part of you. Like she’d have to lay down for you to even have a chance at getting a piece. Little bucks like you just can’t satisfy a mare.”

Gearing looks her in the eye as he says flatly, “If it’s like tossing a carrot dog down a hallway, that sounds like a personal problem.”

The buck’s eyes go wide as he puts a hoof over his mouth and looks at Gearing in disbelief.

The mare’s eyes flash wide as she can’t believe he’d talk to her like that.

Gearing waves a hoof as he says, “What? Too subtle? I’m saying we can’t be held blame if your nickname’s ‘Loosey Goosey got Trained by Moosey’.”

She smirks as she says, “You got a mouth on you.”

“So I’ve been told,” Gearing retorts. “What’s wrong? Having a hard time keeping up with it? Too busy guzzling protein shakes?”

She looms over Gearing, “I could just eat you, you little shit.”

“I could fold you like laundry,” Gearing quips.

The two start developing a crowd as the two start going back and forth. The buck had tried to get a word in edgewise, but both of them were ignoring him. With Gearing staring at the mare with pure disgust as he keeps getting himself in between the mare and the buck. She goes through various loops trying to belittle Gearing, and short bucks in general. And Gearing defiantly stares her down even though he has to actually look up at her. After a while and some things being said to him that have way passed the line to when fights would normally start, Gearing still doesn’t budge. And her twisted personality starts coming out as she starts breathing hotter and heavier. It becomes quite clear that she has a thing for breaking down bucks. Especially ones smaller than her. It’s a different form of conquest that she enjoys. Not simply conquering them by getting them into bed, but far beyond that. She wants to break their very spirits. And the more defiant they are, the stronger their will, the more she gets out of it when she finally breaks them. She gets her jollies by making, and keeping, them submissive to her. Bullying small bucks just gets her motor running in ways nothing else can.

But while the mare is already drooling and having fantasies about another challenge for her, Gearing has already seen her as a carnival full of red flags and decided he’s not going to let this buck go anywhere with her tonight.

But while Gearing is staring her down, unblinking, in the face of her onslaught of harassment and verbal abuse, Gearing only shoots back with quick retorts and in general he lets it all break against and around him like water in a storm. It eventually becomes clear to her that he gives no fucks about the personal attacks. And it starts irritating her how it’s not irritating him. And eventually she reaches over to the counter, grabs the glass that the bartender had set behind Gearing a while ago, and slowly dumps it onto Gearing’s head as she grins in his face.

Shocked gasps escape the lips of many viewers as she so openly disrespects both him and alcohol in general.

But, as they have locked eyes with each other, he doesn’t so much as flinch. Not even when the drink, and the strong alcohol that is in it, pours over his face, and washes over his eyes. Again, it doesn’t faze him. In the least. And, at that point, while he’s still glaring at her, and he doesn't so much as blink as he stares her down with alcohol pouring into his eyes, where she’d expected and fantasized about making him cry, she gets legitimately pissed. And the next second she throws the glass at the ground, breaking it, and starts going on a lunatic level raving rant against him. But then, after not being able to get him to do anything at all to physically react to what she’s doing, she finally completely loses her temper. And in a fury to get rid of his defiant glare, she actually kicks him in the face.

Which Gearing flicks his head with the attack, to dissipate the strike’s energy.

However, time nearly stops for the entire bar at the sudden complete breach of decorum. When the verbal sparring was getting vicious, the police had already been called. Because everyone was pretty sure this was going to lead to a fight and they wanted it taken care of before it got that far. So they are on their way. And Hard Hat, knowing full well Gearing was in the right, wasn’t going to pull rank and force him to back down. He wasn’t going to undermine him like that. And though he couldn’t risk directly acting against the mare for a variety of reasons, he intends there to be consequences coming for her pretty soon. He’d decided to let the police handle it for now, and they should be here any moment.

But ‘any moment’ is not fast enough.

From the front of the bar, near the bar’s counter, the entire Stormfront team had stopped what they were doing to watch the proceedings. And they were ready, at a drop of a pin, to come and help their unit mate if he called for them. But, he had not. But the team, universally, looks on with horror as the mare actually kicks Gearing in the face, and their screams cover up nearly all other noise in the bar as they, in unison, cry out, “Gearing, no! Don’t do it!” Even Skip, who is universally known as the unit’s instigator and typically is not only the genesis for a lot of Gearing’s shenanigans, but an active participant in them as well.

Many others in the bar around the trio had already backed up, but out right recoil and jump back further, giving them all a lot of room for the fight that they are expecting to happen any millisecond now.

However, no one in the bar realized there was one pony in the place that should have been told to cool her hooves. And that one pony, was Hammer.

Because before anyone else could do anything, the bristling mechanic had jumped up onto the bar counter, and ran down its entire length. And Hammer’s already in the air, with a flying double back hoof drop kick, as she screams, “Nopony touches the cinnamon roll!” Before Gearing has even brought his head back around to register what’s happening, Hammer has already connected with the violent mare’s head with both of her hind hooves. The mare’s head warps unnaturally on the end of her neck as Hammer seems to almost remove it from her body as she’s tackling into her and taking her to the ground in one over the top display of pure brutality. Before they even come to rest on the ground, with everyone else jumping further out of the way to avoid getting dragged into the melee, Hammer has wrapped her hind legs diagonally across the mare’s chest and neck, squeezing her with her powerful thighs, as she gets her into a submission hold. And after they’ve slid to a halt in this weird position, Hammer uses her now dominate positioning, and her completely free-as-intended forehooves, to just pummel the mare with merciless rapid strikes to her head and body as she screeches at her with blood-lust induced rage.

And all anyone else around can do is watch in shock.

In normal circumstances, it would have been obvious self defense. Defense of another. She would have even gotten a bit of a slap on the back for taking care of a bitch that had the audacity to attack a service member the way she did.

Unfortunately, when the Military Police arrive, she is still beating on the mare’s body. Hammer stubbornly maintained the exact same hold, and just wouldn’t lay off of her, as she kept yelling, “Nah, the bitch ain’t had enough yet, I can feel her still fighting me!”

So the MPs have to physically drag her off, and then send the mutilated mare to the hospital emergency room for emergency treatment. The MPs were even highly conflicted from the start, but, given the amount of blood, and the very real possibility that Hammer might have just killed that mare, they have no choice but to actually arrest her. Much to the annoyance of everyone in the bar, not just other Stormfront members. The other witnesses are so indignant about it that more than a few calls of protest and support for Hammer start being made on her behalf before they even get her into the paddy wagon. At the same time as the mangled mare is being carted off, a group from the Ministry of Peace comes in and escorts the buck in the center of all of this out and into a wagon bound for a clinic for evaluation as well. And Cross, being fully aware of what all has transpired, goes along with them to make sure the full truth gets out. But Gearing, despite how much the medical personnel urges, refuses treatment with promises to get checked out later.

It’s well after dark by the time the MPs and Ministry of Peace have done all they need to and have finally left Hooflocker’s.

That night, and shortly after the bar was cleared out, the holding facility where Hammer is being kept at practically gets taken over. The group uses its influence to rearrange the guards’ duty shifts, and pretty much everypony there just went along with the sudden changes as it was, in all likelihood, just a technicality for her to get arrested in the first place. The investigation into the buck and his injuries had shown that she’d been abusing him for months into years. It was discovered that not long after the pair had gotten together, she’d started bullying him. And that progressed into physical abuse. And he just stuck with it because when she wasn’t belittling him and beating on him she was very sweet and loving and taking care of him. She was a classic malignant narcissistic personality. And the more that was discovered, the more collective rage was built up against the mare, even among the Ministry of Peace personnel.

As part of the guard schedule shuffling, Snake had taken on the appearance of one of the guards who were paid to have a night at home and not ask about it. And Skip even got involved by keeping watch on the area for any unexpected visitors. Once Gearing got the access he needed, he used his skills and started manipulating the video feeds from the security footage of Hammer’s cell and immediate area. Which was done after they’d gotten a message, through Snake shape shifted into the guard, for her to get into bed and just stay there still for a while. After she complied with the plan, Gearing looped the video being displayed, and recorded. Such that from all anyone could or would be able to tell it looked like Hammer had gone to bed and called it a night.

Having accomplished that, Gearing strolls right into the holding area, with the keys, and quietly lets himself into the cell. Hammer is only alerted to his presence when he gently taps on her shoulder. Of everyone she’d expected to see, it wasn’t him, and she startles a bit when she sees him standing over her in bed.

Gearing waves around as he says, “We got it secure.”

She swings around and off the bed, under the sheet, and sits on the edge of the bed as she looks at him. “You guys didn’t have to do that…”

Gearing waves around with a hoof as he says, “We know. But, we wanna make sure you’re taken care of.” He looks her in the eye and smiles as he says, “And, I wanted to thank you. For tonight. You know? I mean, I can take care of myself, and that mare’s weak ass kick wasn’t a threat… but… thanks for standing up for me like that. I don’t normally get someone doing that outside of mission purposes.”

She fidgets as she blushes a bit and avoids eye contact. “Nah. It’s okay. Was a bit stupid of me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know you can take care of yourself. I mean, I’ve seen you knock out Tower with one hoof for Celestia’s sake!” She looks down at the ground as she sighs. “Maybe I’d already had a bit too much to drink. I was already fuming about her saying all that shit to you. And then when she kicked you in the face, I just saw red. And, well, red is dead… heh… The bitch really did have it coming.”

Gearing puts his hoof on her shoulder and rubs it gently, causing her to look up and risk eye contact again. And after getting it, Gearing says softly, “And that’s why you’re awesome, Anvil, for what you did. Even if you ended up in here for the night. So, I’m going to make sure your time here is as good as we can manage to make it while they get their stick out of their ass and get you out.”

Hammer smiles at him and she gets even more fidgety as she says softly, “Y-you don’t have to do anything special for me… It’s my own fault, I’ll take my lumps.”

Skip pops up in the cell, just inside the door, in a puff of black smoke. He calls over to Gearing as he asks flatly, “Hey, Gearing, you still need your training regimens, right?”

Gearing looks back at him and raises an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, constantly learning right?”

Hammer looks over Gearing, at Skip, and raises an eyebrow of her own. She gets eye contact with Skip and when he motions towards her and comments, “Well this is only going to be an overnight hold. She’ll be out in the morning. So you two can use the time to work on whatever.” And the motion and direction Skip had moved, causes Gearing to look back at Hammer. However, she still has eye contact with Skip, and the moment Gearing’s head is turned, Skip gives her a mischievous smirk with a knowing grin as he bobs an eyebrow at her.

The temperature in her cheeks starts rapidly increasing.

“So we have all night,” Gearing comments thoughtfully.

Still looking at Skip, who nods his head towards Gearing while grinning, Hammer’s ears jump up, turn red, and a flush starts jumping down her neck after covering her whole face. And her jaw slacks lightly at the apparent intentions of the entire crew.

Skip turns and actually walks out of the cell intentionally as he says, “All of the recording devices have been intercepted… And the rest of us are taking positions outwardly… So feel free to say, or do, whatever you want… The room’s secure for the next several hours, unless I tell you otherwise.”

Gearing turns to look at him, and waves at Skip in acknowledgment, before the batpony puffs away in a flash of smoke. They are in the room for a bit longer, in silence, before he turns to look at Hammer again.

Hammer is squirming with her whole body as she’s more than a little fidgety, and the flush over her body isn’t helping matters any in that regard. She can feel her own heat coming off of her body. She locks eyes with Gearing and smiles a bit, a nervous smile that slowly turns into a warm appreciative smile before she says, “Y-you don’t- don’t have to… it’s my fault…”

Gearing walks a bit closer before he asks quietly, “Arrrrre… you saying you don’t want to help me tonight?”

She stares at him with her mouth developing a sheen from almost drooling as her ears burn even hotter and practically glow red. She shifts her weight on the bed a bit as she fidgets and struggles with herself over what to say, before she tilts her head and asks, “H-how about… I teach… you… a few things… like… on you this time… hmm?”

Gearing perks up a bit as he smiles at her. “Oh, yeah, if you know anything in particular, any extra tricks, I’ll gladly learn that too! Learning by doing is definitely the best way!”

Hammer looks at him and his visible excitement at the prospect, and simply can’t help her own excitement growing anymore. She starts giggling as she’s looking him over, then says with a groan, “Well… since you asked…” She straightens up a bit, leaning towards him, as she grabs the front of the collar of his BDU with both forehooves, and gives him a deep-tongued kiss as she starts standing up. After she’s successfully latched onto him like that, she only loosens her lip lock just enough to lift him up entirely, by the front of his collar, as she stands upright on her hindhooves, spins around, and deposits him onto the small mattress that she was just sitting on, before she quickly buries him under her by smoothly flipping into the bed with him.

After getting him just where she wants him, she starts running her hooves over his body, both over and under his uniform, as she starts rubbing her entire body against him while they continue kissing. As she’s working one hoof lower down his bare abdomen, and gets near his thigh, she suddenly locks up as an errant thought hits her. She freezes all actions as her eyes fly open wide from clear fright and horror at the spontaneous thought. She pulls back a bit, and looks at a very confused looking Gearing as she feels her heart rate hitch and jump up at an uncomfortable level. While not moving anymore, she locks eyes with him and asks, as clearly as she can given the situation, “Y-you don’t think- I’m not acting like that bitch of a mare, am I?”

Gearing stares up at her blankly for a few moments as he tries to process what she’s actually trying to ask. And it only takes a few seconds before he gives her an easy smile and starts rubbing the foreleg she has near his cheek with his own hoof in a soft reassuring caress. “Not even close, Anvil… I know you’d never do anything intentionally to try and hurt me.” He reaches up just a bit, and gives her a soft kiss on the nose. He tilts his muzzle down a bit to look her in the eye as he says, “You’ve always been nice to me… actually… even when I fuck up and make your life hard and probably don’t deserve it. You’ve always done right by me, Anvil.” He continues rubbing on her foreleg, and uses his other forehoof to gently brush her cheek as he says, “You’ve always been a good mare to me. So don’t worry. You’re nothing like that mare and I don’t think you could be even if you tried.”

She stares at him wide eyed and with her mouth slack for a few moments as she can’t believe what she’s hearing from him. But then she leans in and starts nipping along his neck gently as she lets out a rather primally needy groan. “Nitro, you’re in for a ride tonight…”

Hours later, when the risk of an alarm getting raised to end the night early starts rising significantly, Gearing leaves Hammer’s cell of his own volition. In his wake is a very happy sleeping mare that feels like she’s won the lottery.

But as he’s walking into the security office where Skip and Snake are monitoring the security feeds, they both look over at him and share amused smirks as they see the awkward way in which he is walking.

Gearing wobbles towards them as he comments, “I don’t think a pony’s supposed to bend that way…”

The others start roaring with laughter as they watch the little pegasus try to stretch and walk it off after Hammer had gotten her fill.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What did you do to her!?”

“I’m sorry!”

Bonesaw runs around his small clinic pulling out various equipment and getting an IV set up in OJ’s foreleg. As he’s looking over the randomly spasming orange mare on his examination table he asks, “Really, what happened?!”

Gearing sits not far away, looking mortified, as he waves his forehooves at OJ, but is keeping his distance under orders from Bonesaw. “She asked for something special, so I decided to try a little somethin’ that was popular with some Machinist Mares back during the war, and it's like the poor girl's body couldn't handle it. She suddenly locked up but then started shaking like she was in an earthquake! . . . I mean, at first it was like she couldn’t get enough of it, but then she just came hard out of nowhere and started spasming! It’s like she came so hard it shorted out her brain and caused her to have a seizure! I don’t know what else to say! That’s what happened. We started, she got happy, she got really happy, she came, she broke, it really was pretty much that fast!”

A couple of caravanners walk up, and the one with a pelt the color of pink lemonade looks on from the side as she says, “Sweet Celestia, he ploughed her into a coma…”

The caravanner guard that had been working on her shotgun earlier looks between her coworker and OJ and comments quietly, “How’d she even afford that?”

Another coworker walks in from around Gearing, and over to the other two. She leans in closer to them as she says, “I think she’s still coming… judging by that puddle forming on the examination table… If she wasn’t a squirter before, she is now…”

The guardsmare caravanner asks quietly, but echoing Bonesaw’s statement, “The hell he do to her?”

The pink lemonade mare pulls off her trail hat and puts it across her chest with a forehoof. “She’s died the way she’s always wanted to. She’d said that’s the way she wanted to go out… and she managed to chase that dream to its blissful end. May we all be so lucky.”

The other two pull their hats off and sit there looking on with reverence and awe.

The shotgun wielding mare comments, “I’m not sure I’d live long enough to enjoy it. She was a strong mare.”

The pink lemonade colored mare nods as she looks up at the ceiling above. “Yeah… I told her I was sure I would die if I entered the crate with Patches… And it looks like I was right… I’m just not ready to go yet. I’ll keep this in mind though, when I’m finally finished traveling and ready to move on.”

The entire time they are talking, BoneSaw is berating Gearing for not being helpful with the treatment, and Gearing just keeps explaining the best he can, without getting into too many lewd details. Gearing even asks if there’s any way to check for neurological disorders. Finally Gearing gets banished from the clinic as he’s not being as helpful as Bonesaw would like and his mere presence is annoying the old buck at this point.

Which Gearing instantly complies with as he slinks away from the clinic full of shame and regret.

The others watch on as he leaves, and the pink mare nods as she says, “OJ has seen the light of the beyond, and it is glorious.”

Not long after, with the outside of Megamart lighting up, Dandy walks up to the clinic. Dandy strolls right in as she asks, “Hey, Bonesaw, I’m looking for- Whoa, what happened here?” She asks as she sees the other caravanners sitting and looking like they are praying next to their coworker. But, unlike a lot of times that Dandy has seen anything similar, there is far less blood around than what she would have normally expected. Instead there’s an amusing smell.

Bonesaw glances at her as he’s walking around and checking on OJ. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I’m sorry, Dandy, but I have a bit of an emergency here. And since it doesn’t look like you’re about to fall over, I’m going to have to ask you to wait your turn.”

Dandy nods as she walks closer. “Sure, Sure… no problem.” She stretches up and looks over OJ’s length. “I don’t see any wounds, what could-” She stops as she sees OJ’s face. She stares at it for a moment and her eyes narrow. “Wait…” She leans in closer towards OJ, despite Bonesaw’s objections. “That smile.” She narrows her eyes even more. “I know that smile!” She straightens up as her ears perk up. “Gearing?!” She starts looking around. “Where’s Gearing?!” Movement catches her attention out of the corner of her eye, and the smirk on OJ’s muzzle twitches a bit as her muzzle gets a very prominent smile on it. Dandy’s eyes go wide before she turns around and yells, “Gearing?! Where are you!?” As she looks around just outside of the clinic she screams, “You need to stop doing this to mares! I mean… okay, maybe not ‘stop’ stop, but you need to be more careful at least… Some of us need to walk afterward!”

The three caravaners look over at her, and their jaws collectively drop. They glance at each other before nodding.

“She knows.”

“Yes, she knows.”

“She’s seen the glory…”

Bonesaw glares at the three and shoos at them as he says, “And you three aren’t very helpful either. She ain’t dead, so save the wake for some other time!”

* * *

Having been shamed into leaving the clinic area, and not having many other places to go, Gearing had scurried off to the Megamart motel. Megamart in general had already started waking up, with quite a few ponies already out and about and nearly half of the stalls already back open for a day of peddling wares. The sun might be covered up by the clouds above, but the light outside is still enough to get those motivated ponies going. Some caravanners have already set out on their routes, and a few others are already prepping to do the same.

So most of the motel’s occupants for the night have already gotten up and left.

Gearing heads over to the cots where he finds Swift already in the process of trying to wake herself up. Gearing trots up and gives her a little wave as she looks up at him with her eyes still pretty droopy. “You think you’ll be ready to go soon? Or do you guys want to get a bit more sleep?”

Swift shakes her head. “Nah. Spent most of yesterday in bed as it was. So I’ll be good soon.”

Gearing looks over at Handy and then nods towards the back of Megamart. “I need to go have a quick word with Bottlecap to double check the location. How about you guys get yourself situated. Get something to eat. And, after you sell the stuff I brought back last night, you guys meet me outside so we can go?”

Swift nods as she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, sure, we’ll meet you- Wait… What?!” Her eyes shoot open as she sees him quickly scurrying away. “What was that last part?!” She looks around quickly, then notices the pile of goods next to her cot that Gearing had stealthily placed there both from what had been still left at the front doors of Megamart and some things that he’d managed to pilfer during his overnight trip. She jumps up and yells after him, “You asshole! Since when am I your sales mare?!”

Handy cracks open an eye and smiles as he says quietly, “Since you agreed to do it instead of just making a list for him?”

She shoots him a dirty look as she balls up a blanket she’d been using, then throws it at him. “Awww, who asked you!?”

It hits him in the side, and he snickers, then pulls it under his head and uses it as a pillow. “Thanks… Oooohhhhh it’s still warm too…”

She jumps out of bed and scowls at him nearly point blank, but his eyes are closed and he’s not letting her have the satisfaction of opening them. So, she quickly leans in, and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning around to sort out the salvaged equipment. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

“I love you too…” Handy says with a smile as he stretches out on the cot more.

A moment later she looks over at him and asks, “You just going to lay there and let me do all of this alone?”

Handy opens an eye and looks at her. “You have your own system. I’ve learned my lesson. I start messing with that, and you get mad at me. And things take longer. So, I’ll just let you do it. And stay here. Out of your way.”

She looks the stuff over and sighs before she says, “Alright… Fine, you got a point… But after I get everything organized, you’re going to help me carry it around so I can sell it.”

Handy raises a hoof limply and waves it at her. “Sure… I’m sworn to carry your burdens… We’re married after all…”

She giggles and rolls her eyes as she starts digging through and sorting the various items into stacks that she already has an idea of which merchants to take them to, and into piles for particular merchants. And a few moments later, without even looking, she comments, “We’ll grab something to eat while we’re selling the stuff. That okay with you?”

Handy lets out a sigh and squeezes into the cot more. “Sounds like a plan to me…”

Meanwhile, Gearing walks up to the door to Bottlecap’s office and checks his PipBuck. He’d sifted through quite a bit of information that he had gotten from the downloads down in the sewers near The Core. And of everything he’s found, not much of it is really of any concern. There’s several schematics in the mix. And he debates on going ahead and keeping at least a couple to himself, just to spite Lodestar, but that thought didn’t last long.

As long as there’s nothing of immediate concern, like megaspell or chemical weapons schematics, he’s fine with completing the contract as agreed on. He’s even taken the added step of putting all of the schematics into their own folder, so it’ll be easier to find them.

Gearing listens to the door carefully, but then reaches up and gives it a light knock. He knows Bottlecap seems to have work all the time, but as a flesh and blood mare he knows she actually does need to sleep some time. He just hopes she managed to get some shut eye and will be waking up soon, if not already awake, given the sun has already risen.

He’s pleasantly surprised when the door opens only a fraction of a second after he starts knocking, and sees Bottlecap standing there with a piping hot cup. She looks at him and motions him in with her head as she turns and heads towards her desk. She sips from her cup casually before she asks, “You ready to conclude your part of the bargain with Lodestar?” She sets her cup on her desk as she says, “I was beginning to wonder if you were still even really interested given all of your… extracurricular activities… lately.” She raises an eyebrow as she looks at him and gives him a rather hard to read expression.

The little pegasus in his head facehoofs before it asks, ‘Did she already hear about us bringing OJ back? Uuhhgg that’s going to be an embarrassing topic if she brings it up.’

Yeah… so, you know what we have to do, right?

The little pegasus strikes a pose as he points a spear with a battle flag on it towards Bottlecap. ‘Seize the initiative! Don’t give her a chance! Chaarrrrggeeee!’

Gearing smiles and waves a hoof as he says, “Well, timing is always important with some things. He didn’t seem to be in such a hurry to get it completed. So he’s not on a time crunch, except for the one I put on him. And he’s already aware that that doesn’t apply anymore, since I’m aware that you have his part of the data. So now he’s aware that I’m aware, that he’s aware, that I’m aware. So now I just need to make the exchange with you and I’ll be heading out to check out his information.” He gives her a wider smile as he asks, “Make sense?”

Bottlecap stares at him for a moment, before giving just the faintest hint of a smile as she says, “I’m aware of that.”

Gearing chuckles and walks forward with his PipBuck. “I’ve got the data here. Even organized it a bit more, at least what I’ve been through.”

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head smirks as he comments, ‘Yeah, keep playing humble, since we’ve been through nearly all of it already…’

She sits down at her computer and he begins the transfer. And, after completing the transfer, she verifies the data by glancing at a couple files of schematics. She pulls out a note from inside of her safe, and gives it to Gearing. And, as he’s putting it into his saddlebag, his PipBuck chimes with an alert.

Location Acquired: Stable 24 added to the map.

Gearing looks at his PipBuck map and his eyes jump wide for a moment before he narrows them and snorts.

The little pegasus in his head throws his ears back in annoyance as he asks, ‘Are you shitting me? There!? We could have stepped out of 68 and farted in its general direction and hit it, instead of coming to the ass crack of Equestria!’

She looks at him for a moment before asking, “So, you’re leaving now to check that out, or are you going to wait around a bit more to see what other mischief you can get yourself into?”

Gearing shakes his head and smiles. “No. We’re heading out today. Already talked with the others to make sure they’re good to go. Our entire trip up here was to get these parts… and… Ironically, the parts are far closer to our home than Megamart is…”

Bottlecap smiles as she waves towards him. “Well, I know you’ve gone a long way out of your way to get what you need… but, I hope you don’t mind me saying, I’m glad you did. Otherwise you might not have come up here to Hoofington and helped us as much as you have.”

Gearing nods as he closes out of his PipBuck. “Well, gee, you’re gonna make me blush with all of that…” He turns his head and gives her a profile of his grin as he puts a hoof to his chest. “But, don’t go saying that like we won’t see each other again. I’ve got an invested interest in some things up here. And I’m not going to just take off and let things fall apart. So, I’ll be back.” He bobs his head around a bit before turning to look at her face on again. “At bare minimum, it’ll take me a couple days. I want to at least inventory what’s there. And I’ll be back after I get everything out that we need.” He shrugs. “That’s the agreement. But, I’m not going to stiff him. I’m not going to just strip the place, or try and take it over. After we take what we need for our place, he can have the rest to do with whatever he wants.”

Bottlecap taps her forehooves together slowly on top of her desk and asks quietly, “And if it’s another trap like you feared? Even worse than the last one?”

Gearing takes in a long deep breath and nickers at the thought. “Well… if I’m not back by… say two weeks… If I’m not back, or haven’t sent word at least, then you’ll know it was a setup that I couldn’t get out of.” He waves a hoof around as he says, “And then you’ll have to decide how you’ll want to proceed.” He looks at her and frowns as he says, “But, you might want to let Big Daddy know, and throw Lodestar under the bus to let them handle it… They’re big about their appearances and they won’t let that slide.”

Bottlecap buries her face in her hooves as she lets out a long moan. “Yeah. You’re correct about that. He simply will not abide that, regardless of what I say.” She lowers her hooves enough to peek over at Gearing. “Gearing, can you do me a favor?”

Gearing looks at her, then grins as he says, “Well… asking’s always free.”

She lowers her hooves more and smiles at his use of her own vocabulary. “Come back. Intact in one piece, preferably. If it’s some sort of death trap, we need to know about it, and Lodestar would need to be dealt with about it. And, frankly, if that’s the case, I’d rather you handle the messy details.” To Gearing’s raised eyebrow she gives him a faint smile. “You seem to know how to function with discretion when the need arises.”

Gearing bobs his head. “Ah…”

“Aaand,” Bottlecap adds, “If I give you unofficial permission, you’re less likely to break down the gates with a herd of angry Reapers looking for blood.” She waves at him. “Even when you’re unreasonably pissed off, you’ve shown to be very specific in your targets. And… I can’t say the same about most Reapers. So, if it has to happen, I can trust you to do so without getting a lot of innocent ponies caught in the crossfire.”

Gearing bobs his head around. “Well, I’m glad you’re thinking that far ahead. But, honestly, I’m still hoping this was one big mistake and misunderstanding…”

Bottlecap shrugs as she says, “Part of business is not hiding from unpleasant possibilities. It’s just basic risk mitigation. I have to have a contingency plan in place in the event he really is selling ponies out. And whether the matter with you gets resolved amicably or not, he’s going to be watched for a while. A few points of contention have been brought up and they can’t be ignored.”

Gearing frowns before he says, “Well then, favor for a favor…”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t actually do anything to him yet. Don’t make him feel like a prisoner. Don’t make him feel like he’s got you breathing down his neck. Don’t treat him like a suspect.”

Bottlecaps eyes go wide as she says, “That’s… far more courtesy than I’d think someone in your position would ask for for somepony who might have tried to have them killed.”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “Hardly… First, and truth, I don’t know for a fact that he did it. So I don’t want any more misery thrown onto him than he deserves. So there’s that. But, and arguably more important, it’s not simply a charity case request. If you start treating him like a suspect now, he’ll get more cautious. But, if you don’t… And let him think he’s gotten away with it, then he might not be as cautious and slip up. Or, at least, not run and it’ll be easier for us to bring him to justice.” He points a hoof at her. “That’s assuming he’s guilty, I mean. But, if he’s not, then he won’t have to bear that burden until we prove he’s innocent… I lived in a world like that before. I’ve seen what it did to ponies. It sucked. And that’s one thing from the past that I’m actually happy is gone.”

Bottelcap nods. “Okay. That sounds entirely fair. We’ll not do anything that might spook him while we await word from you on what the verdict is.”

Gearing nods and heads towards the door. “Thanks, Bottlecap. If luck is on my side for once, I should be back within a week. Gotta remove and secure all of the parts we need before coming back and I’d expect that to take a bit of time at minimum. Let alone the round trip.”

Bottlecap waves it off and goes back to her coffee. “See you soon, I hope!”

Once out of Bottlecap’s office, Gearing swings over to the cots and finds that Handy and Swift have already left on their mission to lighten their load by fattening their cap purse. He grabs up his own baggage that he has there. He prioritizes stowing the various goodies he’d just acquired that very night first before moving on to the rest, and after comfortably packing himself he heads out of the front door and into the wasteland again.

As he’s passing the guards at the gate, Keystone looks at him and asks, “Hey, since when do you leave with so much? You normally bring in brahmin loads of salvage.”

Gearing flutters over the crowd that’s lined up to get into Megamart and laughs. “Well, I’m heading home for a bit. Gotta get all of this back where it needs to be set up. We’ll be back after we get done unloading at home. So, should be back within a week, two weeks max.”

Another guard looks up at him and grins as she asks, “You mean we get a week or more of being able to sleep without hearing about your escapades?”

Another guardsmare off to the side comments as she takes the next group’s entrance fees, “Sex-capades you mean?” Eliciting waves of snickers from both guardsponies and civilians alike.

Gearing looks at her, and the other’s start outright laughing as his face slowly morphs into looking horrified.

‘Word travels fast,’ the little pegasus in his head comments.

Gearing waves it away and turns to leave as he says, “Don’t bet on that.”

To that comment the others laugh even harder. Including a couple in the crowd ready to enter, even though only a few of them actually knew what the topic was about and some just laughed because others did and it was a bit infectious.

Gearing heads over to the area where a bunch of would-be bounty hunters had set up camps a while ago. He’s well within view of Megamart, and in fact is straight out from it, but figures he can look around and keep an eye on the surroundings while waiting on Swift and Handy to finish up. And, because he knows his luck, he takes off the majority of his preciously stored salvage and sets it all together in a bit of a nook between the husk of a wagon and a half buried shipping container of some kind. Then he goes out and starts looking around, while keeping an eye on where he hid his belongings. And, to make matters easier, he flicks on his EFS.

* * *

A trio of fully kitted out Steel Rangers walk down the old highway towards Megamart as they keep an eye on their surroundings. The thumps of their metallic hooffalls being heard for some distance as they pass in their imposing armor. Not that they really expect much trouble, but one never knows when a rabid yellow eyed raider will jump out of hiding and try to capitalize on an unwary pony.

As they are getting closer to Megamart, the one on the left of the triangle formation keeps looking off towards the open area where so many ponies had gathered and camped not long ago. A glint had caught his eye and the closer they get to Megamart, the more he’s looking at it and trying to figure out what it is. An attachment to his helmet drops down over the side of the helmet's visor where his left eye is and starts rapidly clicking.

Suddenly he actually turns towards the glint as he asks, “Paladin Granite, sir, are there any more units in this sector today?”

The one in the lead turns and walks up next to him, but then starts looking off in the distance too as he replies, “Negative. Not that I’m aware. Why?”

The first points with a booted hoof in the direction he’d seen the glint and is staring at with his advanced sighting equipment. “There’s somepony over there in a weird set of armor in a configuration I’ve never seen before. Assuming it’s not a paint job, I don’t recognize the metal alloy either.”

The third one steps around to flank their leader as she comments, “I heard about some buck causing a stir around here. A practical one pony army. Assumed to have some kind of customized power armor not based off of known models? Nothing like anything on the grid that we’ve seen before, according to the reports. And he’s got it painted up all glittery and gold. Really flashy like. And his actions seem just as flashy as he’s put down multiple challenges. Publicly.”

The commander looks at her and asks, “A custom unique set of power armor? How’s that possible?”

The one on the left shakes his head. “Sir, I keep saying, the tribals aren’t all as dumb as the elder’s try and make them out to be. They got to have some real ingenuity just to survive out here…” He waves towards the area where he’d seen the glint as he says, “It’s only a matter of time before somepony reverse engineers sets they find… That’s assuming they don’t just come up with their own.” He looks at his commander as he says, “Ponies came up with the idea out of thin air once, out of need, it only makes sense that it can happen again. You don’t need a whole Ministry backing development if you already have working models as examples.”

The paladin scoffs as he looks at his subordinate, but then his head whips over to where he sees a glint himself. “And you think this individual is the one that made his own armor?”

The mare on the right bobs her head around. “It would make sense. There’s rumors it’s more than one buck. But, given the sightings, it’s entirely possible for it just to be one individual that’s traveled around a lot.” She looks at the paladin and tilts her head. “If you had the best gear in the wasteland, would you want just anypony else having and using it?”

Paladin Granite mulls it over before he motions towards where he’d seen the glint. “Let's go have a talk with them. See what they know. We’re always looking for new technologies… and if he’s got them…”

The other two nod and they begin following their leader in the same triangle formation as they make their way to where they saw movement the last time.

* * *

Gearing walks around, hopping over a few wrecks here and there, and he tries to find if there’s anything else he’d like to keep. The couple laser pistol charge packs that he had found while snooping has really grown his interest in looking further. There’s few things that he’d actually deem important enough to carry the extra weight, given what he already has to take back to stable 68, but he’s not one for passing up the opportunity.

Plus, he’s bored. Bored of waiting for Swift and Handy. Bored of just standing out here doing nothing. But, at the same time, not wanting to get involved in anything that’ll cause delays overall.

And as he’s sifting through a ratty hastily built, and abandoned, lean-to, he can see a couple individuals approaching his area with his EFS, but, since they aren’t red, he doesn’t pay them much mind.

And then a voice coming through a microphone speaker greets him, and instantly makes his eyes go wide, since he knows very well the kind of speaker that that modulation typically comes from.

“Hey, you there, may we have a word with you for a minute?” the buck asks through the external speakers of his armored helmet.

Gearing pulls back out of the lean-to, and looks over at the three individuals.

And instantly activates SATS.

In front of him, and not too far away, a couple paces at best, are a trio of Steel Rangers. The armor looks well maintained, for the most part. The one in the lead, the one in the middle, is assumed by Gearing to be the leader, judging by his armament, and the insignia on the pony’s shoulder pauldrons. The weaponry he’s carrying looks like a pair of autocannons stripped off of a Sentry security bot and modified to work on the Steel Ranger power armor frame. The one next to the leader on Gearing’s left has a minigun on one side of her battle saddle, and an auto grenade launcher on the other. And, the last one among them, to Gearing’s right, has a pair of light machine guns with accompanying auto feeding equipment to boot. He looks them over, and their positions, and notes that despite having the potential to have him in an ambush with effective cross fire, they don’t, which makes them appear to him that they aren’t really trying to start a fight. They’re a bit too close together for that.

The little pegasus in his head glares at them as he asks, ‘So, these assholes huh… Well if they start shit…’

Gearing mentally replies, I need to inform them quickly that I’m a Reaper, otherwise if something kicks off it might cause a bigger problem.

Gearing’s eyes trail over the various spots of the armor as he tries to make as many educated, very educated, guesses at who the occupants could be. The armor plating has a way of giving away a bit about the wearer. Most can’t really tell the difference between folks wearing armor, at least not unless they had spent a lot of time with them. Differences in the ways they walk. Differences in the way they move in general. But, because of the various enchantments on the armor, they actually change themselves to fit the wearer just ever so slightly. To maximize combat effectiveness. This wasn’t a commonly known feature. But, Gearing, having access to way more information than any one pony really should be able to, knows about it. And, anyone that did find out about that tidbit, had a lot of things make sense for them. Like how, for some reason, units could tell who each other were even though they were in the exact same type of suit of armor. Yes, quite a few had numbers or other insignia on them to help identify them. But the biggest give away for units that worked together for any real length of time was the individual tells. Even on a subconscious level. Most of them didn’t even realize they were doing it.

The mental acceleration effect of SATS ends prematurely as Gearing decides to figure out what they want and wants enough of a charge left to help if the need arises.

Gearing steps away from the lean-to as he looks at the one in the middle that he’s sure had spoken to him. “Sure, I got a few minutes to spare.” He looks them over slowly, intentionally, before he says, “What can I help you with today? Got raiders and slavers needing removed? Or do you need someone that knows what they’re doing to take a look at your suits and fix them?”

The mare to the left scoffs as she asks, “You really think we’d need tribals to help us deal with raiders?” She shakes her head. “And don’t even get me started on my armor. Nopony outside of the chapter touches my Iron Sides Betty…”

Gearing shrugs as he waves a hoof nonchalantly. “I don’t know. There’s a few reasons someone might. I don’t know what kind of agreement you have between other organizations in the region… Well, not all of them anyway. Big Daddy told me pretty point blank that you guys are off limits and not to start any shit with you… But considering I’ve made a point of making my stance on raiders and slavers public, you wouldn’t be the first group to ask me to deal with some assholes that were… Politically inconvenient… shall I say… to deal with them directly.”

The one on the right speaks up, “Whoa, wait, did I hear that right? Are you a Reaper?”

Gearing looks them over then nods as he waves a hoof dismissively. “Yeeaaaah, have been for a bit… Big Daddy staked claim on me after the Reaper No Shoes challenged me to the ring… He left the ring a corpse and I was told that since I put a hole in their roster I had to fill the position.” He shrugs. “It’s weird how things work out sometimes… You knock one buck’s head off, and suddenly you’re dragged into all kinds of political nonsense…”

The one in the center stares at him for a few moments before asking, “Why would someone of your talents stay with a group of degenerates like that?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow without saying anything.

The voice coming through the helmet scoffs before he motions towards him with a forehoof. “Your equipment is immaculate. It’s very well taken care of. Intricate and flexible beyond anything I’ve seen. Even our own suits are composed of larger plates and segments. But yours are far smaller. Which, given the amount of movement that would cause between them, and the increased surface area, I would expect there to be far more wear and tear visible. Especially for someone traveling the wasteland. But, it’s not. Which speaks volumes about your capability not only to work on equipment, but maintain it to a high standard.”

Gearing’s eyes narrow before he asks, “And?”

“And, the Reapers, for all I can see, are a bunch of muscle headed degenerates. They fight petty squabbles, they don’t seem to have any real goals besides fighting. And they do so in the most crude ways imaginable. Most of them don’t even have the common sense to wear armor,” the mare comments snidely.

Gearing grins at them. “You ever think that might be part of their doctrine? Oh, how about the fact that even with all of those ‘disadvantages’ to you, they’ve managed to reign in the biggest gangs in this whole region, made them play nice, and the ones they didn’t get with the program, got smashed into the ground with bare hooves…” He tilts his head as he smirks at them. “Don’t overestimate your technical advantage over those you deem ‘lesser’… During the war I’ve seen dumbasses in fully equipped suits like yours get taken down by a single naked legionary with a dagger.” He waves a hoof around as he shakes his head. “There are advantages of strong armor, but there are also extreme disadvantages to it as well.”

“The… war?” the mare’s voice comes out in a startled gasp as she very quickly starts doing mental calculations. “Wait, are you saying you’re a pre war buck?”

Gearing looks at the mare and frowns. “Grammatically that term doesn’t really make sense to me. I was born during the war. Served Equestria the best I could until everything went balls up. Now I’m just doing what I can to help who I can and where I can.”

“Oh?” the Paladin asks as he gives his head a slight incline back and seems to be having a hard time with himself between wanting to believe the brazen claim, versus the common sense of it not making sense.

Gearing nods before he points at the apparent leader. “Yeah, I remember when those suits came out…” He points at the Paladin. “T50 model, a substantial upgrade in combat ability and survivability over the previous generations. Reliable. A few bugs. But nothing that can’t be worked out with regular maintenance.” He points at the suit that the mare’s voice came out of. “T50A, was supposed to be an iteration increase over the generational named T50, but in my opinion was actually a step back in a few areas. Still pretty good. Just watch out for the ankle servos. Those things have a tendency to get bogged down and jam up in silty water-”

“Hey, I had the ankle servos on Betty replaced long ago!” the mare replies with a defensive and indignant huff.

Gearing just grins as he bobs his head around. “So you know I’m right about them. Good on you and the tech that fixed them.” He looks over to the snickering buck on the right and lets out a sigh. “And, looks like you got the short end of the straw with the T45A… Not the worst suit to ever come out of R and D, but the maintenance on it gets ridiculous for its uptime.”

The buck looks to the side, at the pony in the center, and mutters, “See, I told you it’s not just me…”

“Quiet,” the Paladin snips.

The commander looks Gearing over for a few moments before he says, “You seem to have intimate knowledge of power armor… You know, I think you’d be a big asset to our chapter. We could use an intelligent and creative individual helping us maintain, if not actually create, our sets of armor. We have a lot of resources that could really help you with your own projects.”

“My own projects?” Gearing asks as he tilts his head.

The leader chuckles as he shakes his head. “I know your type, buck. Eggheads. You might be one of the ones that has the travel bug. Might like to get out of the lab to get some action. But you’re still one of those ponies that likes to build and create. You always have side projects going. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that the possibility that you’re out and about might only be because you need equipment and supplies for the projects you’re working on…”

‘He’s a bit closer than I’d like to admit…” the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as he glares at the middle pony in power armor before sticking his tongue out at them like the mature adult he is.

Gearing looks at him for a moment before he asks, “Tell me, what would I get out of the deal? You’ve already said you could use my help. And, judging by the rest of the wasteland, and what I remember from during the war, that’d be true. But, what do I get out of this exchange?”

“Hey, buck, tribals don’t get invites to apply very often! You should feel honored to even have the Paladin waste his breath on you!” the mare on the left says as she stomps a metallic hoof onto the ground.

“Stand down,” the Paladin snaps as he turns his head and looks at her. “He has a valid point.”

The buck on the right side waves a hoof around. “Like we said. Resources. And not just material. A secure location. The ability not just to work on current equipment, but work on advancements. And with merit of work the work gets more funding and support. So the better your work the more resources that would be allocated.”

Gearing looks at him as he nods. “That does sound like a pretty juicy positive.”

The buck bobs his head as he says, “Yeah! And you’ll have an entire chapter behind your back if you need it!”

Gearing looks them over before he asks, “Just, one more question.”

The leader turns his head from glaring at the mare and asks, “And what would that be?”

Gearing stares at him in the face for a few moments before asking, “And who, exactly, would benefit from all of my advancements?”

“Excuse me?”

Gearing walks a bit closer. “From everything I’ve heard about your organization, this side of the war I mean, you’ve been hoarding technology… I’ve been warned, by several sources, that your… faction… has been known to not only steal and keep any technology to themselves, but to actually kill ponies for it…”

The mare on the left has the common decency to turn her head away as she mutters, “I’d never take part in such barbarism… but…”

But, their commander doesn’t deny it. At all. And remains silent as he looks at Gearing.

Gearing looks them all over as he says, “So, you’d have me create all kinds of goodies. Things that could help everyone in Equestria. Ponies and nonponies alike. Let’s say I get on a hot streak and manage to create some next level technology. Things that could, if done correctly, bring Equestria back from a complete wasteland and allow us to rise to the heights of old Equestria, minus the moronic war… Let’s say all of that happens. And I create such wonders of the world like have never been seen and could start a new golden age of life and prosperity.” He looks back and forth before narrowing his eyes. “You all would just want to keep that to yourselves as well, wouldn’t you?”

The commander groans before he says, “There’s… certain concerns about technology… falling into the wrong hooves. So-”

Gearing cuts him off. “So you refuse to let anyone else have any, at all, regardless. And, even if your technology could help others, even under your management, you still wouldn’t use it for others.”

The buck to the right admits, “There’s many elders that would not approve of that… No.”

Gearing looks at him and nods before waving a hoof around. “Look, not going to happen. I’ve already heard rumors about what one of your elders did with a water talisman.” He looks at the commander and a massive scowl crosses his muzzle. “Stomped on it. Destroyed it… They could have set it up, and let who knows how many ponies have access to clean clear water. For drinking. For irrigation. For . . . Something!” He stomps a hoof. “Instead, the narcissistic fuck just destroyed it because if they couldn’t have it nopony could!”

The mare turns her head away even more, bitterly grumbling about the verbal assault that she has no comeback for.

“We’re not all like that!” the leader’s voice comes out with more anger than being defensive. “Some are, true, but you can’t blame the whole for the actions of a few misguided individuals!”

The mare spins her head around and chimes in, “That’s right! There’s many of us that want to use our technology to help the wasteland ponies!”

Gearing waves his forehooves around as he says, “Well, from what I’ve seen in the last few weeks, it’s not very many of you! I’ve yet to see any of you coming to the aid of caravans being attacked. I’ve not once even heard about you clearing out raider dens that are butchering ponies. Hell, I’ve probably killed more raiders this past week, than your entire chapter has all year!”

The mare on the left stomps a hoof as she snorts. “Ooooh what would you know?!”

Gearing points at her as he yells, “What I know is that Applejack made that armor you’re wearing to protect ponies. To help reduce the amount of suffering in Equestria. She didn’t want others to suffer like she did when her brother had died. She didn’t want them to feel the same pain she did. She was all about family, and common decency! And, as someone who knew her personally, I can tell you straight that she might have created the Steel Rangers, but if she saw what you’ve become she’d be horrified and disappointed beyond belief!” He waves his hooves around. “She’d be disgusted to the point of making her absolutely sick!”

The mare actually takes a step back as the indignation in Gearing’s voice makes it seem impossible to call it as anything but a heartfelt truth.

The buck on the right waves his forehoof a bit before he turns towards Gearing and says, “Whoa, just calm do-” Whatever he was going to say is drowned out by the sound of full automatic machine gun fire.

Coming from the buck on the right himself.

Footnote:

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95 Occam’s Razor’s Edge

Just a quick note:
After literal years of poking and prodding I've finally gotten both my Patreon and Ko-fi accounts set up and are now live. More information in the author's notes section at the bottom.

The mare to the left spins around to look where the machine gun fire is coming from as she prepares to return fire herself, and their leader screams out in disbelief, “Stand down! Hold your fire! I said cease fire!”

Multiple bullets whiz right by Gearing, and he side steps, dodges, and pirouettes as he avoids the incoming bullets fired at him nearly point blank. And, to the astonishment of the other two Steel Rangers, Gearing actually closes the distance on the buck on the right before either of them can even tell he’d started moving.

Gearing grabs the buck and lifts him up, power armored suit and all, and slams him down such that the gun that’s still firing is pointed off towards the ground. While holding the buck down, Gearing starts reaching down toward him with a forehoof. Before the other’s can really react, he reaches down and grabs the loading mechanism of the one gun that’s firing, and crushes it, smashing the feeder and a moment later the gun goes silent as it runs empty.

As soon as that bit of work is done, he jumps towards the leader of the trio with unnerving dexterity and trajectory, like a golden bullet. Paladin Granite waves his hooves defensively as he continues screaming, “Whoa! Stand down!”

But, to his surprise, Gearing spins around, stretches up, and catches an incoming strike at him with a metallic clink.

Gearing stares up at Swift and scowls as he screams, “Stand down!” with such a roar that Swift actually flinches from the force of it.

Her eyes go wide as she stares at him, and her eyes slowly drift down to her powerhoof, that Gearing caught and stopped dead in its tracks as she was on her way to deliver a SATS assisted powerhoof swing straight to the center pony’s helmeted head. From her perspective, time had started slowing down right as she got close, as she had activated the attack and was coming in at full tilt. But then she saw Gearing moving in between the two, changing her strike percentage from 90%, to Zero. And he not only blocked the strike, but stopped it, and her, cold. And as SATS ends with the attack failing, she’s left fluttering there as she’s having a hard time coming to grips with what had just happened.

Gearing pushes her away, keeping one hindhoof on the armored buck on the right that he slammed into the ground. “Stand down! Everyone calm your shit and stand down!” He looks off to the distance and screams, “You too! Don’t start any shit!”

Swift flutters back a bit and waves her hooves around as she asks, “Those fuckers had you cornered, and that one fucker started shooting at you, and now you wanna play nice with them?! The hell, Gearing!?”

The leader of the group of Steel Rangers, Paladin Granite, walks over, but doesn’t even try to push Gearing off of the buck on the ground, as he leans down and asks, “Knight, the hell is wrong with you?! I didn’t give you permission to fire!”

“I d-didn’t I-I don’t know what happened!” the younger buck replies with clear fear and confusion even with the modulated voice of the armored helmet.

“The hell you didn’t!” Paladin Granite roars at the younger buck.

A couple ponies start running up, with more seen coming from a distance.

Gearing waves at them. “I got it under control, hold on! This is just a big misunderstanding.” Seeing them still rapidly approaching without any sign of even slowing down Gearing belts out quickly, “Remember what Big Daddy said!”

The Steel Ranger commander stands up, and looks at him, then looks over at a charging group of ponies vectoring in towards them rapidly. And, of course, he can’t help but notice the one floating a massive hammer above her as she has a smile on her face that borders on psychotic glee.

Gearing looks at Paladin Granite and says, “We got a problem here, and if you don’t want to start a war we need to get this squared away now.”

Paladin Granite stares at him and is baffled by Gearing’s actions. He can clearly see Gearing’s marker on his own EFS, and it hasn’t changed even though he’d been shot at. He’s not sure he’d have nearly as much restraint if he were in similar circumstances. But, he’s also no fool and already can see a pretty bad chain of reactions taking place from this if it’s not handled correctly and quickly. He undoes his helmet in an attempt to defuse the situation. With the helmet removed he reveals his aquamarine pelt, with his teal mane cut in a short crop top, and a set of orange eyes that are as thoughtful as they are striking. He sets it on the ground and looks at Gearing as he asks, “I have so many questions right now, but what did you have in mind?”

Gearing looks at the aquamarine buck and points down at the one he’s standing on and says, “I need to access his system-”

“I can’t allow that,” the Paladin says as he narrows his orange eyes at Gearing.

Gearing points a hoof off to the side as he says, “From what everyone else can see, you just attacked me, a Reaper, and right now, there’s a group coming over here to pound you into the pavement.” He waves around and says, “Check your HUD, you’re completely surrounded, this is not going to end up going well for you. And, after they are done with you, and word gets back to Big Daddy, he’s not going to be able to stop the others from stampeding over the rest of your group. It’s going to be war. And just as stupid as the last one I fought in!”

The commander looks up and his eyes go wide as he sees the mares charging their direction are coming in a lot faster than he’d previously thought as they seem to have sped up somehow.

The mare in the set of power armor confirms, “Sir, I saw a lot of markers change to red when those rounds went off… We have a problem.”

Gearing waves at the buck below him. “I can prove he’s innocent of this. But I need to get access to his system and check what the hell just happened.” He looks at Granite and starts working his PipBuck before holding it up for him to see. “I’m a licensed Stable Tec technician under the Ministry of Wartime Technology… I worked on this kinda shit before your last few granddaddies were born. I can do it. I’m not going to fuck with anything. You can watch.”

Granite scowls and looks around as the incoming waves get even closer, and he can see more movement coming in as he hears shouting in the distance.

Gearing leans closer and comments, “I’m not going to try anything. If I wanted to fuck you guys up, I would have just flown off and let those mares turn you into canned pony… This is the right move, soldier. Help me prevent a blood bath and needless loss of life.”

Paladin Granite frowns and looks down as he obviously gives it some thought. And his thoughts are all highly conflicted.

Gearing looks at Swift and points off to the quickly approaching mares and comments, “Go tell those three to slow their roll. We’ll have plenty of time to kick asses, but before anyone does anything fucked up we need to make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

Swift frowns but then quickly zips off without arguing. She doesn’t like it, but, if he’s so sure, she’d rather have things sorted out before they do something that will cause a literal war between factions, as she’d also been made aware of the current truce between the Reapers and the Steel Rangers.

The mare steel ranger comments, “The elders won’t approve…” as she can see Granite struggling to come to terms with where he’s thinking of going.

The buck on the ground chimes in, “And you think they’ll approve of us starting a war with the Reapers? Let him check, I’m fine with it. Hell, I’d like to know what the hell just happened too!”

Granite looks down at him, and the startled expression escapes no one. Except the buck that currently has his helmeted face in the dirt and is being stepped on by Gearing.

Finally Granite lets out a gush of air as he nods and waves at his subordinate on the ground. “Fine. But I’ll be supervising to make sure you’re not trying to sabotage his systems.”

Gearing nods and pulls out a cable from his PipBuck. He squats down next to the buck in question, and plugs his PipBuck directly into the set of armor. And then, to the paladin’s surprise, Gearing pulls out a gem encrusted rod from his saddle bag and gets to work on the systems of the power armor. Gearing comments as he starts using the master key on the equipment, “Remember the situation and who I am associated with, and don’t let your tech grubby ways get the better of you…”

The commander doesn’t say anything.

The mare doesn’t say anything.

The buck in question moans, “Do I even wanna know?”

““No.”” Gearing and Granite reply in unison.

Gearing starts digging through the system files looking at various things, then can’t help but scoff. “Wow… really got the short straw on this suit, didn’t you, kid?” He types out some more before he comments, “You’re still running the T45A0.85 firmware on this? Wow. Why would they do that? Did no one think to upgrade it or something? That’s just asking for problems. I mean its repair matrix was known for- . . . Wait a second…” He starts lifting the buck up ,and the buck helps him, but gets thrown off as Gearing makes a point of pointing the one barrel towards the ground. He looks at the system operating the gun and suddenly facehoofs so hard a clang echoes out into the wasteland. “Oh for fuck’s sake!”

He reaches for the weapon, but Granite quickly puts a hoof to stop him. “Stop. What are you doing?”

Gearing looks at him and replies. “He’s a walking reg violation. That’s what. That weapon needs to be removed.”

Paladin Granite shakes his head as he gives him a stern look. “I can’t let you do that.”

Gearing glares right back at him. “And I can’t let you take him anywhere with this suit of armor with that weapon still attached. So either I remove it from the assembly, he walks out of here without the entire suit of armor… or-” He points off to the side where a group of ponies have assembled, and they have spread out with full intentions to charge in at the smallest of provocations. “Option three is them stomping you into the ground then going to your base and doing the same there. Be smart. I’m not trying to take the weapon. You can take it with you. In fact, I insist you take the fucking thing with you. Get it away from me, and everyone else, and then when you get back to your base find out who the fuck is supposed to be providing maintenance on these systems and have them thrown in the brig!”

Granite’s eyes go wide as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Gearing points at the light machine gun on the side of the downed buck. “The repair matrix on this firmware is known to have some problems with the code. I don’t understand how someone hasn’t caught this by now. But, sometimes some… ghost code… wonky… shit… happens…” He looks at the paladin and rolls his eyes before he says, “Blame Discord if you want to with how chaotic it seems, but no one was ever able to explain it. Or what really causes it. But, basically, something with the code gets screwed up and causes things to repair wrong. In this case it seems to have made the gun have a hair trigger that would call a piece of paper fat. And it musta triggered and got stuck when he moved wrong suddenly. You’re all really lucky he wasn’t walking through a populated area when it happened.” He points at the gun as he says, “Repair matrix are only as good as their code. And this one has a bug in its software that causes code overflows that start screwing shit up after a while. If it’s cleared and reinstalled often enough, you can get by with it. But if you leave it long enough, it causes a problem. That’s why most of them were either mothballed or given the upgraded firmware.”

Granite looks at him and asks with a raised eyebrow, “So, you’re not going to try and keep the gun?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Don’t want it. Trust me, I have far better weapons at my disposal than this thing.”

The paladin sucks his teeth before he nods. “Fine. Remove it, while I watch, and then immediately give it to me.”

Gearing nods. “Fine.” He quickly goes about it, taking the gun apart as he’s taking it off the system. And, after putting it back together, off of the mounting system, Gearing holds the weapon out for the aquamarine stallion. He takes it, looks it over a bit, then puts it onto his back where it locks in place with some attachment system he has built onto his rig. Then Gearing holds up a wing, and the buck stares at the end of it as there’s a single small rod of metal being displayed.

Granite looks at it for a moment, and then scowls. “Is that…”

Gearing nods, and holds it closer to the armored buck. “The firing pin. Take this however you want, but I don’t know you. I don't trust you. And I damn sure don’t trust your superiors. I know there’s no stopping you from putting the weapon back on after walking away. If nothing else because it’d make it easier to carry. But if you put this pin back in, and he has another weapons malfunction that hurts some innocent bystander, I don’t care what Big Daddy says, I’m sweeping the interstate all the way to Fillydelphia with your face… understand me?”

The steel ranger leader carefully takes the pin, then sticks it inside one of his pockets on the side of his suit of armor. “You don’t have to worry about that. Despite what many think of us. We’re not looking to kill just anyone and everyone we run across. We’d prefer to protect them if we can… I hope you understand that.”

Gearing looks at him and sighs. “And I hope you understand that if you all used your technology to improve the wasteland… we’d all benefit from it… And, frankly, I’d have no problem with helping you do so. But, things being as they are…”

Granite waves him off as he straightens up. “No. You don’t have to say anymore. Certain members of our organization have certainly done things to damage trust.” He motions towards Gearing. “Frankly, I’m surprised by the restraint you’ve shown today. And thank you for that.”

Gearing nods as he says, “I try to keep in mind the consequences for my actions. And, in this case, I knew it was an accident.”

The commander’s eyes go wide, and he starts waving at him. “That’s another thing! How’d you realize it so quickly without anyone saying anything?”

Gearing holds up a hoof as he says, “Let me get the others closer and we can all settle this mess. Without bloodshed.” He looks over to the side, towards the group of mares not far away, and motions for them to come closer. “Hey, Swift, have them come over, I wanna explain what happened.”

They stroll up, with the group keeping their fanned out positioning, almost enveloping them. The mare with the oversized mallet mindlessly twirls the massive thing as she looks between the Steel Rangers and Gearing. “So, is there a reason we’re not playing hoofball with their helmets now?”

The mare in the steel ranger’s armor lets out a snort of annoyance, but has been able to read the room enough to realize it’s better for her to keep her mouth shut.

Paladin Granite, despite his rank, is prudent enough to look over at Gearing and defer to him to make the persuasive arguments needed to keep this from blowing up in all of their faces.

Gearing points at the buck on the ground, who hasn’t moved an inch since the last time he was physically manipulated by Gearing. “There was a weapons malfunction. That’s what caused the discharge. He had no intention of shooting me. It’s all a big misunderstanding.”

Swift flutters off to the side as she snorts. “Some ‘malfunction’ he unloaded half a magazine at you.”

The mare with the giant mallet stares at Gearing, but keeps a rather neutral expression on her face. “I’m going to need a bit more than a ‘weapons malfunction’ to justify this clear breach of the truce…”

Gearing waves his forehooves to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, just listen for a second.” He helps the buck that he had been standing on back up to his hooves and points at his empty weapon spot, then over at the paladin’s back where the missing weapon sits. “That’s the weapon that had malfunctioned. I already removed it. And they are going to carry it back so it can be looked at and no one will get hurt in the process. I actually know what caused the problem, but… out of respect for them, I won’t get into that with you.” He looks the others over before saying. “It’s a pride thing… leave it at that…” He shakes his head then points at the buck. “They had zero intention of attacking me. In fact, his commander not only tried to stop him after it started, but did not in fact even try and stop me after I had immobilized him and directed the weapon’s fire elsewhere. Which also speaks to their intentions. And, I would like to point out, even though he unloaded so much ammo, and at close range, I wasn’t hit even once.” Gearing starts turning around, showing his wings and flaring them out. “See, not so much as a chipped crystal. He entirely missed. But that’s because he wasn’t aiming at me. His system didn’t help him adjust anything. And that’s because the gun just fired towards wherever the barrel just happened to be pointing at the time.”

As they are looking at each other trying to figure out if it makes sense, Gearing continues, “And, to answer your question,” Gearing turns towards Granite, making a point of being loud enough that everyone can hear. He holds up his PipBuck for all to see as he continues, “I have a Pipbuck. My EFS was active the entire time. Frankly I was expecting trouble. But, he did not go red before the rounds went off. In fact, none of them have. And while some of you right here, right now, want to kill them for what had happened, I want everyone to chill the fuck out.” He straightens up as he says, “No harm was caused. The problem has been solved. And I want everyone to know, that while we would be entirely justified in retaliation at this point, from most creature’s perspectives anyway, we are an honorable group! And just as Big Daddy has demanded, we will not violate the treaty.” Gearing turns towards the paladin and stands up straight as he stares him in the eye. “This wasn’t intentional and isn’t a violation. And I’m not going to be -tricked- into being the one causing one. So let everyone know that it wasn't the ‘wild degenerates known as Reapers’ that broke the treaty… And we won’t.” He gives a malicious grin as he says, “Apparently we’re the more civilized ponies around here…”

To this, the others standing around start roaring with laughter as Granite’s eyes go wide at the declaration. He stares at Gearing for a bit as he slightly narrows an eye, but then has a bit of a realization before exchanging slight nods with Gearing. Then he glances at the others, and he slightly dips his head as he says, “Thank you for your understanding and … help… in resolving this matter.”

Gearing points off to the road from where they’d come as he says, “Yeah. Well. I highly recommend you escort this buck back to wherever you have your base at, so his equipment can get looked at. And, while you’re there, kick the flank of whatever quartermaster you have that allowed this out in the field in the first place.” He shakes his head as he scowls. “Oughta be court-martialed, Ranger.”

Granite nods and puts his helmet back on. And after fastening and securing it back onto himself he says through the speakers, “If you ever change your mind… I’m even more convinced we could use you.”

Gearing waves it off. “I’m flattered, really, but until you guys change your stance on technology and your fellow Equestrian citizens, my stance isn’t changing… I swore an oath to them, and I mean to uphold it. Get back to me when you stop being a buncha techno grubby xenophobes, and start putting up water stations with the talismans you pilfer, instead of smashing them. Once you start doing what Apple Jack would approve of, then we can talk.”

Granite nods his head with a resigned sigh, waves, then starts leading his group away. But, this time, the buck with the missing gun is put in the center of the formation and it almost looks like he himself is getting escorted off the field.

The other ponies that had come for an expected fight watch them leave, and a few even kick rocks or debris in frustration as they snort. One mare actually flops down on her rear, folds her forelegs across her chest, and simply scowls at the retreating steel rangers as she obviously hopes they’ll start something, but to her great disappointment they do not.

And once they’ve gotten a bit away, the mare steel ranger comments, “If he’s a prewar buck in the army, I wonder if he knew Elder Steelhooves…”

The buck with dirt caked to his helmet snorts and replies back, “Maybe we can ask him next time we meet… After this embarrassment wears off enough that we can show our faces to him again.”

Paladine Granite grunts in agreement. “I wouldn’t bet on it. It’s a big world and not all prewar ponies knew each other. But with him being in the military…” After a few moments of silent contemplation he adds, “I’ll check the archives when we get back. See if there’s anything about that soldier.”

The mare with the giant mallet walks up and casually lowers the mallet onto the ground as she stares at the backs of the leaving Steel Rangers. She rests against the handle as she turns and stares at Gearing. “Was that real, or were you just trying to prevent a bloodbath?”

Gearing looks at her and grins as he says, “If they were really trying anything with me, I woulda taken out their leader first and used his gear to turn the others to bloody scrap… I already had one down… do you really think I needed any backup to take out the other two? When I was already at that distance?”

She grins back at him and tilts her head. “Not at all. I’ve heard a few things about you. It’s why I didn’t just start playing whack a tin head…”

Gearing nods as he says, “Well, thanks for running in to help anyway. And, sorry to disappoint you all.”

She shrugs. “Eh. It’s what we do, look after each other. And as far as the bucket brains, don’t worry about that either… Eventually they’ll fuck up and start something with us. And then we’ll be all over them and their precious little base. It’s coming. There’s more and more of the ones wanting to expand out and get rid of ‘the tribals’ so they can take our resources. Not just technology. And when they try that, we’ll have plenty of flanks to kick.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah, but it ain’t starting here. And it ain’t starting with me. I’ve fought in a war before. I’ll do it again if I have to. But I’m not going to be the one responsible for that kind of widespread misery.” He looks at her and smirks as he says, “I won’t start it, but you better believe I’ll finish it…”

She grins widely and offers her forehoof, which he dutifully bumps, as she says, “Spoken like a true Reaper.” She looks from Gearing up and to the side at Swift, and then back to Gearing before nodding towards Swift. “Speaking of… That was a ballsy move stopping her strike like that. I’d wondered what would happen when an unstoppable force meets an unyielding presence. Now I know.” She laughs as she starts twirling her over-sized hammer around effortlessly.

Gearing looks up at Swift and gives her a sheepish smile as she snorts and looks off to the side.

Swift waves her hoof around as she says, “Well, I wasn’t aiming for Gearing. I was aiming for that tin headed asshole in the center. I didn’t expect Gearing to step in between us… so…”

Gearing looks at the giant mallet wielding mare and waves it away dismissively. “She pulled her punch at the last second, that’s all that was about…”

Swift’s cheeks puff up before she starts flailing around with all of her legs. “No I didn’t, don’t even lie like that!” She shakes her powerhoof at him as she yells. “I was locked in with SATS for the attack, there was no pulling anything you just- just- just intercepted it like a hoofball toss!” She flutters around a bit as she looks Gearing over and asks, “Just what the hell are you to take a blow like that?! I heard of playing hardball and high speed catch but that was ridiculous!” She gets closer as she asks, “Be honest for once, did it even do anything to you?”

Gearing holds up his hoof and shows a couple indents in the bottom of his hoof. “I didn’t simply stop it dead. That would have been dumb. I caught your powerhoof and lowered the damage by extending out the impact time. Some of my gears aren’t happy with me right now, but it kept both of us from breaking our legs…”

Swift’s legs dangle down in the middle of the air as she grumbles and stares at the miniscule marks on his forehoof. “That’s all?!” She hangs her head. “Yeah, right… breaking your legs… uh huh…” She straightens up and points at his head. “It took a building dropping on your head to give your ear that little twist to it, so don’t give me that!”

The mare with the mallet laughs as she keeps casually swaying her hammer around. “Yeah, I’ve heard about how hard headed he is too. Be glad you didn’t try and clock him, might have actually hurt yourself!”

A few laugh as Swift looks at her with her mouth pursed to the side.

“Already did that… didn’t do much then either…” Swift mutters.

The laughing intensifies with Gearing giving a shrug of his shoulders and not saying anything else about it. But the smug grin on his muzzle says enough.

Handy finally catches up to where all of the excitement has been going on the last few minutes, but not much more than at a fast trot. He looks around as he tries to size everyone up. “Hey, Swift, you took off real quick, what was that abou-” he stops as he sees the mare with the oversized hammer, and his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open for a moment as his eyes practically molest her weapon. “Niiiiice hammer!”

The mare looks at him, and raises an eyebrow as she tries to figure out if it’s some sort of innuendo or something. Because his tone is quite lusty in nature.

Gearing waves towards Handy and laughs. “This is the friend I’d told you about that also has a thing for hammers…”

Handy pulls his pneumatic sledgehammer off of his back and twirls it around before standing it on its handle, head side up, for them to see it. “I’m more of a fan of the pneumatic style. Increases impact damage without having to seriously increase weight. Which means I can carry it around a lot longer without having to worry about being too tired to fight with it.”

The mare looks it over as she seems to appreciate the design. But then she grins, and floats over her massive mallet for him to see closer. “Well, you could always just train more so the weight isn’t so draining for you.”

Handy raises an eyebrow, and Gearing laughs. Gearing looks at Handy and comments, “I think she just told you ‘Git gud noob’.”

Swift curls up in the air and laughs while holding her stomach.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head looks at Swift and raises an eyebrow as he asks, ‘She got that reference?’

Handy looks at him and raises an eyebrow as the reference clearly entirely goes over his head. “I don’t get it.”

Swift zips over and wraps her hooves around his neck as she gives him an oversized smooch on the side of the cheek. “Wook at youuu bin shooo keeeyyy-yooot!”

Gearing chuckles and leaves the two to their strange little bickering ways as he looks over at the mallet wielding mare. “What brings you all out this way anyway? Something up?”

The mallet mare shakes her head as she says, “Nah. We’d just decided to go get some exercise and make a run to Megamart for some things while we were at it.”

The grumpy mare that’d stared at the backs of the steel rangers until they were well out of sight comments, “Been some complaints about fuckers messing with the caravans too. So keeping an eye out for that while we're at it.” She hops up and kicks a can making it go soaring a far distance away. “What’s a mare gotta do to get some action around here?! Even the raiders seem to be scarce!”

Swift looks over at Gearing and asks, “Been busy again, Gearing?”

They look over at Gearing and he shrugs as he says, “Not around Megamart… but… you know… I see them, and I need to fix it so I don’t anymore…”

This earns a couple chuckles from the others around before the one grumpy mare shrugs her shoulders and smiles as she says, “I can’t really blame you… snooze you lose, I guess.”

The mallet wielding mare looks Gearing over before she asks, “What are you doing out here anyway? Didn’t think you’d be the type to be picking over hand-me-down scraps.”

Gearing shakes his head as he laughs. “Nah, I was just out here waiting on these two so we can go.” He waves back towards the Freight Car’s territory before he says, “We’re making a trip home. I gotta drop some stuff off, and I got a lead on some kit I want. So I’m going to take care of things on that side of the mountain range.”

She sets the mallet head down rather abruptly and leans on the handle as she asks, “You trying to run away from Big Daddy or something?”

Gearing snickers and shakes his head. “I have a feeling he’s the kinda buck I could make a trip to Roam and he’d still manage to find my shiny ass. No. Besides, the first time I met him was down at Megamac, which ain’t far from my place, so don’t worry, I’ll still be around.” He grins wider before he finishes, “Being a pain in the ass.”

The mallet gets hefted up, and spun around within its owner's magical field a bit as she looks at him. “Well, that’s good. Because I’d hate to have to track you down and smack some sense into you.”

Swift looks off to the side as she snickers. “You’re gonna need to bring a bigger mallet…”

To this most of them laugh, except Handy, who’s more than a little put off by the casual violence comments.

Gearing turns and starts heading towards where he’d stashed his bags of equipment. “I’ll be around. Don’t worry. And Big Daddy already talked to me about showing up often enough that people know me.” He stops and looks back at her as he grins. “Don’t worry about that… folks will remember what I do, even if they don’t know or remember me. And I’m fine with that.”

The mare that had kicked a can off into the distance, sends a rock on a cosmic journey to join it with a powerful kick before looking to the mare with the mallet. “Alright, since there’s no action going down around here, can we go ahead and head in? I got a craving for some Sugar Apple Bombs and a Cherry Sparkle Cola…”

The mare with the mallet nods as she starts turning away to lead the way towards Megamart. But she stops after a few paces and calls towards Gearing as he’s reemerging from around the shipping container with his bags. “Don’t stay gone too long… I wasn’t kidding about things with the Steel Rangers heating up. I have a feeling it’s going to be sooner than later. And we could use another flank kicker on our side.”

Gearing joins Handy and Swift, setting his bags down so he can attach them to himself correctly. He calls back to her as he starts strapping bags to himself. “Don’t worry. Shit with them kicks off, I know more than a few weaknesses in their armor. If they want to make themselves enemies of the citizens of Equestria, they’ll be treated as such…” He grins as he says, “I could always use more spare parts anyway...”

The rest of them roar with laughter as they continue on to Megamart with the mallet wielding mare giving a nod of approval towards Gearing before heading off.

Handy looks at the retreating ponies, and then at Gearing as he asks quietly, “Are you seriously going to come back up here and fight in their war?”

Gearing looks at Handy and narrows his eyes. “Handy, if it happens, it won’t be their war. It’ll be everyone’s war.” He leans closer to Handy and practically hisses at him. “From what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t put it past the bastards to start breaking into stables and killing their occupants. And if that shit starts… well.”

Handy snarls and snaps as he says, “They try that shit and we’re pounding their head straight out their ass!”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she sees the sudden, and violent, shift in Handy. She lets out a sigh before she says, “Handy. I approve the sentiment. But, please, don’t work yourself into a froth. We’ll be getting involved before they can come knocking on our door. So no need to start panicking.”

Handy looks at her, and blinks a few times, and his eyes soften a bit. “Uh, yeah… sorry…” He pulls out a cloth and blows his nose. “The kids… you know?”

Gearing looks at him and shakes his head before looking at Swift. “Okay, Swift, we need to have a conversation.”

Both Swift and Handy look at him, with Handy obviously looking a bit perturbed about apparently not needing to be part of whatever conversation Gearing wants to have with Swift.

Gearing points over where they need to go, in the vague direction anyway, before he starts, “So, we’re a long way off. We don’t have the sky wagon anymore. Those asshole Wild Ones ruined that for us. So we have two options… going through the mountains, using the tunnel system that Sable and the others went through, or …” He looks over at Handy and gives a sheepish smile. “Over… the mountains.”

Instantly Handy gets what Gearing is saying and his eyes jump to their widest before he starts waving his forehooves around for a time out. “Whoa, no way, we’re not flying!”

Swift looks at him, then over at Gearing and lets out a sigh. “Okay, this is going to be a debate… So, what way do you think is the best way, Gearing?”

“The tunnels! Obviously the tunnels!” Handy says with a scowl.

Gearing looks at him, then lets out a long annoyed sigh. “Actually, I think our best bet is to fly there-”

“No!” Handy objects.

“Handy, just let him finish first before you start pissing yourself, please,” Swift says with a sigh as she looks at him sideways.

Gearing looks back and forth then says slowly, and calmly, “We are waaaay behind schedule from when we were supposed to be back. The whole ordeal with waiting for, then tracking down, Lodestar, and the whole nonsense with the tunnels getting the data for him… We’re way behind what we should be. We don’t know what the condition of the tunnels are. It could take a lot of backtracking and other nonsense to get through. But if we just fly over, zip right over, we should be able to fly straight there, without having to really stop unless we want to. And with us flying, we can be there today… If we take the tunnels, I can’t guarantee how long it’ll take us to get through. It could easily take days… a week… and I don’t want us being gone that long. We need to get back. To check on the stable. On the kids. And then making plans on going to the other stable to get the equipment we need to get our stable fixed up for the long term.”

Handy frowns as he sits down and crosses his forelegs across his chest as he groans. “… O-okay… that’s fair…” He waves his forehoof at Gearing. “That’s a fair point… but- But… But without a wagon, what do you think we’re gonna do?” He waves a hoof over at Swift. “You expect my wife to carry me? The whole way?”

Gearing grins at him as he says, “No… I expect -I- will be the one to carry you the whole way… While your wife plays wingmare and helps keep an eye out and if anything attacks us she can hold them off while we make it to ground so we can all fight if need be.”

Handy’s eyes go wide, and his foreleg goes a bit limp, as the entire thought starts playing out in his mind’s eye. And he doesn’t like it. Not one bit. Not least of all because his biggest excuse, his wife’s own limitations, has been sunk by pure logic. The plan makes sense. Even he admits it. And he hates it. And both his heart and his mind are united as they cry that a pony’s hooves shouldn’t leave the ground.

Swift’s face lights up as she’s obviously enthused with the idea. “You mean you get to play packmule, and I get to fly around and fight? All I want? Really?!”

Gearing looks at her and half smiles and half frowns, as he’s trying not to smile and laugh about her obvious excitement at the idea. “Yeah, Swift. That’s my thought.” He points over towards Handy as he says, “His added weight won’t really slow me down much. If you carry him, we’re going to have to make a few pit stops at least. But this way, you can just casually fly around and I’ll go as fast as I can. With your speed you’ll fly rings around me no problem, and probably without breaking a sweat.”

She rubs her hoof on her chest and then looks at it as she grins. “Yeah, I’m pretty awesome, aren’t I?”

Handy looks at her appalled, Then at Gearing. He waves a hoof at Gearing as he says, “No fair, Gearing, using her ego to get her to agree with your plan!”

Gearing looks at him and smiles as he tilts his head. “But, I can’t help but notice, you didn’t say it was a bad plan…”

Handy slaps his hooves over his eyes as he groans. “No… it’s not… and I do want to see the kids… I miss the way they like to ponypile me when I’m trying to go to sleep…”

Swift leans over and gives him a light kiss on the cheek. Handy removes his forehooves from his eyes and looks at her as he still frowns. She puts a hoof on his shoulder and says, “Handy, with us manually flying, and not having to haul around a vehicle, we can get around more easily. Can be more maneuverable. And, actually, we can get closer to buildings without drawing as much attention.”

Gearing raises his forehoof. “I would still prefer to fly higher than that, especially around buildings…. I don’t want to be flying by a building only for some asshole to blast my wing off with a shotgun and make me drop a hundred feet to the pavement or more… That shit sucks…”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he says, “Sucks right, that’d kill me!”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Won’t kill me. But I’d hate it. Especially if you get killed in the process.”

Swift looks between them and then scowls. “Look. I’ll lead the way, and keep an eye out. We have a pretty good idea of the ceiling that’s fair game to fly through. Plus we can just avoid buildings and certain areas entirely. We’ll zigzag when needed and avoid fights. But I’ll lead the way so you won’t have to worry about it. And with it just being us we’ll be harder to spot from the ground… Right, Gearing?”

Gearing nods as he says, “Yeah, in fact, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to fly higher. Earth ponies don’t look up nearly often enough, and even if they do, they don’t pay much attention to tiny dots in the distance even if they do see them. So, in general, we’re safer the higher up we go.”

“Until we get roasted by the lightning rods from the assholes above the clouds,” Handy comments dejectedly as he hangs his head.

Gearing waves his forehoof. “We’re just a couple ponies flying. We’re not a threat. And I’ve already flown quite high without you all around, and nothing happened. No lightning. Not even a scouting party coming down to see what the hell I was doing. They seemed content as long as I stayed on this side of the clouds. To be fair, I have spotted several lightning rods in this sector. And I’ve been avoiding them. So, whatever I’ve been doing, seems to work. So I promise we won’t push anything more than what I’ve already done. No point in anyone else risking getting fried by that much voltage.”

Swift nods as she points at Gearing. “See, the crazy bastard already went and tested it for himself, we'll be fine.”

Gearing nods as he grimaces. “It went far better than the test on the bridge to The Core near Chapel, that’s for sure.”

This reminder actually makes Handy grimace as he realizes the kinds of risks Gearing must be taking on his own just to find out what’s safe for everyone else. And, after thinking about it for a few more moments, he lets his head sag as he relents. “Okay… fine… I’ll let you carry me around like a sack… but… could you at least not do anything crazy? As smooth of a ride as possible? If you start getting all crazy and wonky with your flying around I’m likely to throw up on you…”

Gearing laughs as he nods. “I promise. I’ll keep it as straight and steady as I can manage it and only do any evasive maneuvers if absolutely necessary… No joy rides this time.”

Handy puts his forehooves together in a solemn prayer and smiles at him. “Please and thank you…”

Gearing puts a hoof on Handy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. Now, come on, let’s get you rigged up so I can carry you easier.

Handy looks at him and raises an eyebrow as an unpleasant tingle runs down his spin. “What do you mean ‘rigged up’?”

Footnote:

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Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing, Please Stand By. . .

Author's Note

First dust up with the Steel Rangers ended amicably, and a war as been prevented for now, but things behind the scenes obviously aren't going to let things be for ever.
And now the trip back over the mountains looms ahead.

* * * * *

Hey Everyone,

Over the years I've had quite a few ask me about ways to contribute, and urge me to get accounts so that folks who want to support my work can do so. I'd been leery about it this whole time. And in fact I actually made both accounts quite a while ago. The Patreon account was made in 2019, and the ko-fi account was made in 2022, but I only just now actually activated them and made them live. I just don't want to be a leech. But at the same time, it's been explained to me that it's quite unfair of me to so thoroughly turn down the generosity of folks that just wish to see me succeed with my work. I never thought of it that way, and I apologize for anyone that felt slighted by my constant refusals.

The reason why I have both methods, is so that those that wish to give a single one time amount can do so, without having to worry about any ongoing obligations or having to manually stop them. And that's through Ko-fi.

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Except the ones that want to tip via crypto. I still haven't figured out how to set that up yet. So if that's something you're interested in doing and have ideas on how I can implement it, please drop me a message so we can talk about it.

96 Taking the High Road

Gearing pulls out a few leather harnesses and straps from one of his bags and holds them up for Handy to see. He’d obviously already been thinking about, and planning about, this for at least a little while. “I’m going to connect you to a couple points on my own equipment harness. That way it’ll not only be easier to hold and carry you, but it’ll be more comfortable for me to do so. Just holding you with my forelegs is fine for a short trip, but after a while your own weight is going to start causing you to bruise yourself against my hide… Like . . . Sleeping on a rock or something.”

Handy looks at him and the harness supplies for a few moments before nodding in approval at the logic of it. “Hey, thanks Gearing. I appreciate that kinda forethought about me.”

Gearing grins then hops over and starts using the straps and things on Handy, quickly wrapping him up in a harness that’d make any cliff rappeller proud.

Swift flutters around them a bit as she watches, and puts a hoof to her mouth as she’s not quite sure which she likes more. On one hoof, they aren’t arguing and fighting each other constantly anymore. But, on the other hoof, they seem to be getting along a little too well sometimes for her liking. Especially recently. And then it dawns on her that it has been happening more and more frequently. This thought makes her have a vivid mental image of a bromance taking place in a workshop while she has to sell whatever crap they make or fix. It is so clear in her mind, the nightmare is nearly a hallucination as she can practically smell the dusty shelves around her.

She gets a shiver down her spine.

As Gearing holds up the last connectors he says, “Okay, these’ll go on, and then we can go-”

Swift interrupts his train of thought as she snaps over, gets between them, and wraps Handy up in a hug as she shoves him away from Gearing by a couple inches.

Both bucks are startled by the random interruption. Handy even more so, but then he smiles and hugs her back as he asks, “What’s that all about?”

Swift slowly turns her head towards Gearing, and scowls daggers at him. The unfiltered hostility causes Gearing to give her a crooked smile in response because he has no idea what could have gotten into her. She squeezes Handy a bit more, making him more than a bit uncomfortable, as she stares at Gearing. “My Husband.”

“Huh?” Gearing asks.

“My Husband… you… you…” Her ears slowly droop as she realizes how absurd her jealousy would sound if she actually said anything about it out loud, and she looks off to the side and says a bit quieter, “You… take care of my husband… don’t drop him, okay, Gearing? Or… I’ll kick your ass…”

Gearing smirks as he tilts his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t drop him. That's what these are for. And if I think he’s going to slip at all, I’ll land as quickly as I can and fix the problem.” He smiles at her and gives his head a light shake. “Don’t worry, Swift. I won’t lose him.”

She stares at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Handy. “You better not.” Then she grabs Handy’s face from where she has been smooshing it into her chest, and gives him a deep kiss. Afterward she flutters away and watches as they finish whatever else Gearing needs to do for them to go.

Gearing walks up and smirks as he holds the straps up again. “Okay, so, are we ready to go, or do you need a minute to remember what words are again, Handy?”

Handy looks at him and grins as he says, “Sure! Super ready!” and just grins at Gearing with the stupefied expression of a buck who has just had his first kiss.

Gearing looks up at Swift, who just motions towards Handy to let him decide. Gearing shrugs, hops over next to him, and attaches the last couple things to him. Then he connects the points to himself and his gear to hold onto Handy as he flutters up and over Handy. He had to be careful given Handy’s pneumatic hammer, but that’s not a complete deterrent. Especially after he makes sure it’s properly secured to Handy. Gearing’s had to grab and carry wonkily shaped things in the past, so this isn’t too far out there for his realm of experience.

And, a moment later, Gearing takes off, straight up in the air, after wrapping his forelegs down and under Handy, just behind his forelegs.

Hovering there for a moment,only about fifteen feet above ground to double check the weight and such, Gearing looks over at Swift for her approval. And, seeing first hoof that he can carry Handy, and all of their equipment, with no real apparent strain, she nods, and then turns to head towards the mountain range that makes up the bowl around Hoofington. And the pair of pegasi quickly start ascending.

As they are climbing up higher, with Swift in the lead, Handy suddenly starts wiggling a bit. “He-hey! When did we start flying!? Why am I flying!? How did you- Why did- Ground. Hooves. Need ground! Dirt yes, air no!”

Gearing chuckles and gives Handy a bit of an encouraging squeeze as he says, “Handy, you’re fine. Even if I let go of you, you’re not going to fall. You’re locked in with the harness on you. And, even if I did let go and that freakishly failed, your wife’s right there and she’ll catch you.” He tilts his head down and to the side and gives Handy a smile where he can see it as he says, “We got you. You’re in good hooves.”

Handy moans a bit as he looks down and the same nauseating feeling quickly strikes again. So he quickly closes his eyes and forces his face in a different direction. “If you drop me, I’m going to curse you with every deity I can think of before I splat on the ground…”

Gearing chuckles. “If you forget, I’m already cursed by a couple deities… And that’s the reason I’m going to be able to haul you to 68, non stop flight. So let’s not bring any more into this, shall we.”

Handy looks at him as he squints his eyes like a distrusting foal. “Promise you won’t drop me.”

Gearing chuckles as he says, “I’m not sure how much you trust me or anything I say… but… I promise I won’t drop you.”

Handy closes his eyes and tries to relax as he groans. “I’ll… take your word for it…”

Gearing chuckles and gives Handy an extra squeeze to let him know he’s actively being held.

After a bit, Handy asks, “So, how long is this going to take? Half an hour?”

Gearing chuckles. “Sorry, Handy, I’m not Rainbow Dash and never will be. It’s going to take a few hours at least.

Handy groans, “I was afraid of that…” There’s a pause before he asks, “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

Gearing chuckles and says, “Well, you could always do what pegasi do.”

“And what's that?”

“Just find someone you don’t like, and rain on their parade!”

“Really, Gearing?!” Handy asks with his eyes open to their max. “You guys just piss on us?!”

“That’s disgusting, Gearing!” Swift comments as she flies closer and casually takes position to fly off to their side to look at both of them.

Gearing looks over at her and grins as he asks, “What’s the matter? Never just sat on the side of a cloud and let’er fly? Maybe onto some assholes below that you don’t like?”

Swift directs her attention elsewhere as she raises her nose up at the idea. “I use a bathroom when I can, like a civilized pony!”

Gearing laughs as he asks, “Whaaat? Even when you’re feeling kinda woozy and feel something oozey?”

“Don't say it, Gearing,” Swift snaps.

“What?” Handy asks.

“Diarrhea…. Diarrhea~” Gearing replies sing songy causing Handy to facehoof.

“That’s gross. Gross, Gearing.” Swift says as she scrunches up her nose in disgust.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head giggles, ‘I guess classics live on. She got that reference too!’

“Oh come on, you know it’s fun. Sitting on the edge of a cloud and letting it fly,” Gearing says with a chuckle.

Swift looks at him and gags, “That’s so bad…”

Gearing giggles a bit before he sings out, “Chocolaaate raaaaaaiiiinnn~”

Handy snickers but at the same time groans. Gearing’s not sure if it was an attempt not to laugh that was made even harder by his current cold, or what it was, but it amuses him all the same.

Gearing gives them a wicked grin as he says, “And I'm not talking about some of Discord’s sweet shenanigans…”

Swift flies closer, but flying backwards, as she waves her forehoof at Gearing. “Oh that’s just nasty!”

Gearing shrugs. “Hey, they did it all the time back in the war.”

“Really?!” Handy asks as he looks up at Gearing. “You guys seriously just shit on us? All the time?!”

“Nuh uh,” Swift replies quickly.

‘She’s ruining the fun like she was there. Ruuuude,’ the little pegasus in Gearing's head comments as he gives Swift a dirty look.

“Sure did,” Gearing pipes up. “Where do you think the term ‘pissing on somepony’s parade’ came from?” Gearing asks with a chuckle. “Golden showers!”

“Oh that’s fucked!” Handy blurts as he’s trying to recoil from Gearing, but can’t quite do it at the moment as he is, for all intents and purposes, a captured audience.

“He’s lying, Handy! He’s just fucking with you!” Swift says as she flutters around in front of Gearing. “That’s just a bad rumor somepony started to weird earth ponies out and make them look up!”

Gearing looks at her and grins. “Yeah, but the funny thing is… with them looking up, if any pegasi actually did drop it right on them, they’d get a face full of it at terminal velocity. Right up the snoot!”

Swift gags as she flutters away. “Ooohhh that’s soooo gross, Gearing!”

Gearing giggles as he shrugs. “Hey. It might not have happened that often… but you better believe me that a fly by road apple was a real thing…”

Swift gags again. “There was a senator that got nailed by a swarm of it, wasn’t there?”

The little pegasus in Gearing's head scowls at Swift. ‘Okay, seriously, that was a pretty obscure reference and the Ministry of Image did a good job of burying it like they did anything that didn't show absolute unity between ponies, so what the hell is up with this mare? Where's she getting her information and why isn't she sharing?!’

Gearing nods. “Yeah, asshole was corrupt to the core and was screwing over a group of cloud workers pretty bad. So they staged a protest…”

Handy looks between them and his eyes go wide. “You’re kidding me?!”

Swift gags again. “‘Fraid not…”

Gearing starts laughing hard. “Yeah… Crop dusted him and his whole entourage. And they made sure it was nice and nasty too… One of them was lactose intolerant and spent the whole day up until that point eating ice cream sandwiches …”

Swift puts a hoof to her muzzle as she gags. “Oh god, Gearing, Stop…”

Gearing laughs as he shrugs. “Well, after that, they did put in a few laws about such things…. But, yeah… it was bad enough that it started the whole wive’s tale about pegasi shitting and pissing on the ground bound.”

Handy looks up at him and thinks for a few moments. “Okay, but… really… how did you go to the bathroom, then? I mean, considering gravity?”

Gearing chuckles as he intentionally shifts his eyes around and makes himself look as shady as possible. “A mystery that’ll never be solved…. Muuahahahh.”

Swift frowns as she hovers off to the side. “Handy, pegasi can make things from cloud. Rather solid. Plumbing was all over the place. In fact, far more of the pegasi had access to central plumbing and waste removal than those on the ground did.”

Handy looks at her and his jaw drops. “No way!”

Gearing nods. “Yeah, actually… But, don’t think of it as being too much of us being hoity toity… It really was a matter of necessity, and convenience factors. Because otherwise we’d have to go to designated areas to do the deed. To avoid some poor sod below us getting ‘fertilized’. And then there was also the point that it was relatively easier to install, since cloud excavation is usually easier than ground and rock.”

Swift nods as she adds. “Yeah, and with how fast things were growing and expanding, some places were still set up like old times. So there were towns that had trains going through them on the regular, but instead of centralized bathrooms with fresh running water, they had outhouses… some of the more rural areas had stuck that way too.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Basically shitting in a hole in the ground. Not much different than what others had to do. But they chose to stay that way. Right up until the end as far as I know. Which is why pegasi had a near 100% conversion to indoor plumbing. Before most earth ponies had it, at that.”

Gearing tilts his head to look at Handy with a warm smile. “Precisely because we were trying not to shit on our ground bound brother’s and sister’s parade.” Gearing chuckles as he goes back to looking ahead. “I mean, we still joked about it though. But only a few really pissed off individuals with some kinda vendetta actually did it. Hell, it was even considered poor form during the war. Even as easy as it would be to fly over a tench and let’er fly onto those stuck in what might as well already be a latrine.”

Handy looks at him for a few moments then looks over at Swift. “Is he fucking with me again?”

Swift chuckles and shakes her head. “Nah, hun. He’s actually being serious this time. The system made by the pegasi to control their waste was pretty extensive. Other options were to fly to the surface to take care of business behind a tree or something and, really, who had time for that with everything else going on?”

Gearing looks over at her and raises an eyebrow before he nods. “Yeah… true… I mean my house didn’t have indoor plumbing when I was growing up, but that’s because we were out on ‘untamed clouds’ and, really, we didn’t need it. But later on, when I had my own place, they all did.”

Handy looks at him for a moment and asks, “Well… why didn’t you have bathrooms anyway? I mean… for others at least?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Like I said, we were out on untamed clouds.” He looks down at Handy. “It’d be the equivalent of some pony moving out to the middle of the boonies and building a log cabin in the woods. We didn’t get visitors often. Except the mail mare. But beyond that if we were going to go hang out with anyone we went to their place or met them somewhere else.”

“Huh” Handy says as he looks at Gearing for a few moments in silence. “So, were you just not a very social family or something?”

Gearing frowns a bit as he says, “Well, my mom was. But… I was really agoraphobic as a foal. Didn’t want to go out or be around anyone. Rarely left the house for a long time.”

Handy blinks a few times before he asks, “Wait… you were scared to go out? As a foal?”

“Terrified, actually,” Garing corrects as he has a bitter expression cross his muzzle that Handy can’t help but notice.

As they continue flying along their route towards the mountain, Gearing and Handy talk the whole way. About various topics ranging from nonsensical to deep. And, of course, with Gearing making jokes or poking fun at Handy and others. All the while doing his best to keep Handy’s attention on him, and not how far the ground was far below. And, with Swift’s help, they manage to do a pretty good job of it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing keeps flying in a straight line as Swift flies around giggling like a mad mare. The trip to the mountain range had been rather uneventful, aside from Handy learning more and more about Gearing and the way the world was before the war. But, once they got to the mountains, things started changing.

First there was the group of oversized vultures perched along a ravine that they decided to go through. A crag that had developed between a few of the peaks that turned into a deep crack. They figured that it would both make things a little faster and also keep them lower to the ground and away from the clouds, a thought that Handy very much voted for. But those oversized scraggly birds apparently hadn’t had a meal in a while, judging by how lanky they looked and how some of their feathers seem to fall off all on their own as they took flight after the trio. They weren’t raptors or other types of birds of prey. But, apparently, they were either territorial or just really really hungry. For whatever the reason they started trying to swarm Gearing, Swift, and Handy.

Swift, of course, took her job of protecting the other two very seriously. And even if she didn’t have her honor and pride to worry about, Gearing held her husband. And she very much wanted to make sure that no matter what he wouldn't have anything happen to him that would make him lose his grip on Handy.

So in short order the flying birds started falling out of the air as she zipped around and started clocking them in the head with her power hoof. When nearly half of the birds lay looking like mange infected ruins across the rocky landscape, the rest of them decided to give up on the chase. Morbidly enough, several of them had gone down and wasted no time on eating their fallen comrades.

But at least they seemed to have the common courtesy to only go after the ones that were no longer moving and let the ones who were die in peace.

After that there was the swarm of flying bugs that looked like some horrible cross between a bumblebee, and a wasp, that had drunk some souped up concoction that made them grow in size to be about a quarter size of a pony. And, to make matters worse, they had the life self preservation skills of a rock. Even Swift had a hard time dealing with them. And a few even managed to get through, and thankfully, for Handy at least, they seemed to focus on the overly shiny pony flying away. Several had landed and stung Gearing’s back, only to recoil by the unexpected fact their stingers didn’t penetrate. But that didn’t stop them from trying again as they bit and stung Gearing’s back and wings. And Gearing ended up in the comical position of taking Handy’s sledge from him, and smacking his own back to swat the little annoying pests. Which splatted with a satisfying crunch when caught between Handy’s sledge hammer and his own back. But still the situation left Gearing not very happy. He was smart enough not to trigger the pneumatic part when he hit himself, but he still had bits of dead whatever these things were all over him. One made the mistake of going for his face, and he just bit the stinging creature's head off and spat it at the next one. And, as much as that might have intimidated any other species: These things didn’t care.

Fortunately their flying ability seemed a bit sloppy. And they weren’t very maneuverable. They could fly in a straight line well enough, and they could turn, but doing both at once seemed to be a problem for them. Like their bodies just weren’t designed for those kinds of maneuvers.

So Swift had a field day having a mid air rodeo by dodging them and smacking them from the sky with near miss jabs. But, this became more of a problem and she was definitely tiring out by the time a couple dozen had been sent to the ground below. And, frustratingly to the group, not all of those that fell actually died from the impact. They actually got up and started chasing after them on the ground. And, they realized, in all likelihood the only reason they weren’t flying after them again is because their wings had been crippled.

After they had gotten far enough away from whatever hive they had, the bugs had thinned out enough, thanks to their combined efforts, that they finally stopped having to deal with them. Though that wasn’t for a lack of trying on the part of the insects.

And then there were the bats. Giant bats. Ugly too. And they came after them even though it was broad daylight. As they were flying along, Gearing’s shoulders were giving him a lot of uncomfortable signs that something was wrong. And, most importantly, that he knew on some level they needed to stay away from them. They might just look like oversized fruit bats. But something about them really weirded him out and made his withers crawl. And he wasn’t the only one. Swift ended up having to fly at high speed, bucking and swinging and hurdling in a variety of directions as she tried to knock as many of them out of the air as possible.

After a while of being harassed by the bats, And Swift seemingly almost getting cornered in the air by the flying monsters, Gearing yells at Swift, “I’m just gonna start blasting these fucking things!” And he starts pulling out his large revolver.

Handy reaches up and puts his hoof on the holder as he looks at Gearing wide eyed. “Gearing, please, no!”

Gearing stares at him and waves a hoof at Swift, “They’re trying to eat your wife!”

Handy waves at him. “I know, but, Gearing, I’ve heard that thing go off before. At a distance it felt like it was going to rip my eardrums out. If you fire that thing with my head this close, it might really make me go deaf. Permanently. I’m begging you here, don’t use that damn thing!”

Gearing looks at him and frowns as he says, “And what else are we gonna do? You’re not good with guns and we can’t have you shooting your wife down!”

“Well what bright ideas do you have?!” Handy asks as he looks at him. But then his eyes go wide as Gearing smirks at him. And Handy instantly starts feeling a cold sweat coming on. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

Gearing yells over to swift. “Let's switch! You carry Handy and dodge these assholes, and I’ll just crush the fuckers!”

Swift pants as she’s zipping around, “I don’t know how much more dodging I can be doing at this rate. These fuckers are relentless!”

Gearing starts undoing a couple hooks from himself as he says, “Just get some leeway, and then charge my way. We’ll pass off Handy and I’ll take out the ones chasing you!”

Swift zips away, with the bats after her, then she arcs around and starts heading straight for Gearing, but then she rolls over, flies upside down, and starts going under Gearing.

Handy looks up at Gearing and he already has tears in his eyes as he asks, “You wouldn’t…”

Gearing quickly undoes the last strap connected to Handy, and smiles at him. “You’ll be fine. We got you.” Then he lets Handy go, but the way he does it with such a casual flick almost makes Handy get thrown back the direction they’d come from and slows his forward momentum as a result.

Handy only has a moment to process that he’s not being held or supported, by anything, before he starts flailing and screaming. And a fraction of a second later, Swift’s sweaty forelegs grab him as he’s suddenly yanked and goes a different direction, as she turns and goes up and behind Gearing.

Gearing flies straight ahead, right in the thick of them and blatantly offering himself as a tempting target to the bats, as he pulls out the new shotgun that he’d gotten from IronShod.

Without even trying to change direction, Gearing points the shotgun in front of himself, and starts unloading with the modern marvel of death and destruction at their tormentors. The large pellets coming out the front end making a cone of death tear holes through the bats without slowing down, blowing several bats into bloody chunks that are barely identifiable with each pull of the trigger. Other bats get pieces of themselves blown off, and still others get a series of holes in their wings making them look like they got in a fight with a paper punch. As Gearing is passing through the wing cloud, with his wings outstretched, he makes no attempt to avoid them.

Mass Augmentation Matrix: Deactivated

Gearing cuts a path through the swarm of bats, his wings slicing through flesh and wing easily as he angles his wings and lets the edge of them do what they do best. And before he turns around, after kicking his implant back on, a good portion of the bats are already falling to the ground. A few turn around and try to get him, a couple others even manage to latch onto him. But, a few stubborn and insistent ones keep chasing after Swift and Handy. Gearing spins around and tries to intercept them as he’s flinging off pieces of other bats that are covering him. One lands on his back, and jerks down with its mouth and sharp fangs sticking out. It strikes home, biting him right on the rear.

And for its trouble it ends up breaking one of its teeth.

The bat, looking absolutely horrified, starts rolling and screaming as its tooth had gotten caught between one of Gearing’s plates and one of his cogs, and then was summarily snapped off by Gearing flinching. The bat rolls off of him, but has enough wherewithal left in it to start flying instead of falling to its death. However, with it no longer on his back and momentarily stationary out of disorientation and confusion, Gearing simply points his barrel at it and blows a good portion of its body off of it with a spray of oversized metal balls. All without actually changing direction from trying to intercept the ones after Swift and Handy.

Gearing screams at them to swing around again, and they do. But, this time, Gearing not only curves with them to try and do a fly by, but starts sending large pellets at the bats once Swift has made enough of an arc that he’s certain he wasn’t going to hit either of them.

“Huh… it’s like skeet shooting,’ the little pegasus in his head comments as the bats, one by one, explode in mid air as they are shredded by the tight clusters of practically ball bearing sized metal shot. Gearing continues on, along with Swift, but can’t keep up with all of her dodging and weaving. And, after seeing that she doesn’t have any of the bats immediately trying to bite her, she angles again and keeps going on the path that they had laid out, and away from the whole flock of oversized toothy bats. Gearing, bringing up the rear, makes a point of sending a few more clouds of metallic death in the bats’ directions to dissuade any further pursuit. And, to their credit, the few survivors decide that they’ve had enough holes in them for one day, and cut their losses as they go on elsewhere to look for easier prey.

After flying a bit longer, and having no further pursuit, they find another outcropping and duck down onto the top of the mountain to rest. Swift needs to rest physically, but Handy needs to rest mentally. And, to help them do so, Gearing flutters around above them as the other two lay down and catch their breath.

As Swift is laying out, trying to melt into the mountain in between some of the sharp rocks, she yells out, “What the hell was with those bats?! I’ve never seen bats like that. They were like… vampire bats, from stories or whatever, but, like, bigger, and meaner, and with huge teeth!”

Handy curls up around a jutting rock. Practically mounting it sideways, as he gives thanks for being able to hold onto solid ground once more. “They made no sense. Nothing about this mountain has made sense. Why is everything around here trying to kill us?!”

Gearing flutters by as he keeps eyeing the large crevice not too far away. “Hey, welcome to the wasteland. Apparently everything sucks on this side of the apocalypse…”

Swift looks over at him and scowls as she stays down and slowly steadies her breathing. “Hey, you don’t get to say that kinda shit. You might as well be a stable pony for how long you’ve been out in it.”

Gearing shrugs as he grins at her. “What can I say, I’m great at adapting to new situations. And most of my life has been fubar, so finding new ways to define ‘fucked up beyond all recognition’ is just new flavors of the same shitty cake mix.”

Swift lets out a groan as she sprawls out a bit more and focuses on her breathing. “I’m covered in bug goo. I’m covered in bat bits… and I’m sweaty and feel nasty… I need a bath baaaad.”

Gearing continues looking around, even activating his SATS a few times and actively trying to target things within range that the system can pick up that he himself hasn’t spotted yet. But, it too finds nothing to target. Except Swift and Handy, which he politely does not take advantage of. He flutters closer to Swift and stays above them as he slowly spins in a circle while he hovers. “Swift, drink something. If you got any Sparkle Colas, drink those. You could also use some calories.” He looks down for a moment as he doesn’t hear her say anything, and notices she’s looking up at him with an indignantly raised eyebrow. “While you’re at it… if you have any spare healing potions, go ahead and start sipping on them. Not just chugging it. It’ll help you recover and rebuild your stamina faster… Take a sip, let it run its course, and then take another.”

Swift flops out more as she groans again. “Thanks mooooom, any other advice you’d like to share with me?”

Gearing grins at her as he says, “Well, since you brought it up… the sooner you get back on your hooves, and can get your breathing and such under control, the sooner we’ll get back to the stable.” He points off to the side where he knows the stable is based on a marker he’s already placed. “If we cut straight that way, we’ll be there in a few more hours. I think we need to go up a bit higher too, at least until we’re on the other side of the mountain range. There’s critters in these mountains that seem to have heard about the apocalypse and decdied it’s their turn to fuck everyone over.”

Handy covers his head with his hooves as he groans. “Not higher! Come on, aren’t we high enough already!”

Gearing continues spinning in a slow circle as he hovers over them. “Yeah, if we didn’t have the mountain to deal with. But we do. So we need to get higher to give us more reaction time for any more of these flying fuckers coming after us… What’s next, manticores taking up residence?”

Handy’s eyes jump open to their max before he asks, “Wait, did you just say manticores?”

Gearing looks at him as he frowns. “Yeah… You know, basically flying lions with the personality of a garbage disposal?” He nods off back towards where they came from. “Heard about it from one of the Halfhearts, apparently there’s been problems with manticores attacking… That’s why they’d shot Nahlah, idiots thought she was a manticore for some reason.”

Handy looks at him for a few moments in silence, then slowly looks over at Swift. “Swiiiift… is he-?”

She cuts him off as she groans, “He’s serious, Handy. I heard the same thing from a couple of the Reapers. And since they used to hang out in the Everfree, if they made it to Hoofington, that means they crossed the mountain range… so…” She lifts her head up and frowns at Gearing. “He’s got a point… dammit…”

Gearing shrugs as he waves around. “I’m not really on the menu, but you two would be unfortunately appetizing snacks if they find us,.”

Handy stares at him for a moment before asking, “Did you know about that before suggesting we went over the mountains?!”

Gearing looks at him and shrugs. “Yes. Yes I did. But with our weapons we’re more than capable of protecting ourselves… As long as we keep. Our. Distance.” He holds up the shotgun prototype as he grins. “Guns might be the most sadistic creation a pony ever dreamed up, but they do have their uses. And knocking a Manticore out of the air is a great one.”

Handy narrows his eyes at him as he lets out a sigh. “That’s your plan?”

Gearing shrugs and motions back the way they came. “Hey, the higher we are, the more effective taking their wings out would be. The higher up, the longer way down, and the less likely they’ll survive the impact. And, really, taking out a wing can be easier and more efficient than kill shots, depending on your target.”

Handy lets out a groan and then looks over at Swift. “What do you think, Swift?” His eyes slowly go wide as he sees her muzzle covered in Fancy Buck Cake crumbs, as she’s sitting there and holding a healing potion that’s definitely seen better days, judging by its lack of vibrancy, with one wing as she has a small collection of empty wrappers in front of herself. The corpses of her latest victims.

Swift pointedly takes another careful sip, and washes down the buck cake she’d crammed in her mouth. “I think I want to get home. To the kids. And a working shower. Thank god we have a functioning water talisman.”

Gearing starts chuckling. “Well… even if we didn’t before, we do now.”

Handy looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Gearing taps on one of his bags as he grins at Handy. “I did some snooping through an industrial building… They had an emergency shower for decontamination. And they used a water talisman for the system. Was hooked up to the rest of it too. So, I took that damn thing before some asshole came along and smashed it or whatever.”

Swift looks at him before asking. “Like those tin heads?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah. So you heard the same thing I did, huh?”

Swift frowns. “Yeah… it’s a real shame, they didn’t used to be so bad. I wonder what happened to make them change so much.”

‘That’s right,’ the little pegasus in Gearing's head agrees. “What the hell happened to them? I mean they weren't exactly Fluttershy, that's for sure, but now their practically heavily armed mobsters that- Heeeeey, waaait a second… there's one of those old references again…’ He rapidly pulls out a list, and then starts quickly adding to it now that he's thinking about it being something to look out for. ‘What’s with this?’

We’ve all got secrets. And we already know a pretty big one of her's. She'll talk about them when she's ready. She's not a target, so we're not prying.

‘But keep the file, right,’ the little pegasus asks.

Of course, Gearing mentally replies.

Gearing shrugs outwardly while looking at Swift, but then starts descending to stand next to them. “There’s no telling. Maybe it’s just outright fear. Fear has a way of doing things to ponies. I can understand wanting to prevent the same atrocities that happened before, from happening again. But, they’re going about it all wrong.”

Swift nods as she sips on the watery potion. “Like hoarding all the good shit for themselves.”

Handy slowly picks himself up and looks over at Swift. “Feeling ready to go yet?”

Gearing looks over at him and his eyes go wide as he asks, “You’re the one asking?!”

Handy looks at Gearing and sighs out a deep heavy gush of air. “I miss my kids, okay? I want to get back and make sure they’re okay. We’ve taken enough risks for one trip. And I don’t want anything to happen to us because we keep getting side tracked. So, yeah…”

Swift waves her hoof as she’s corking her healing potion. “Gimmie a minute and I’ll be ready to take you.”

Gearing shakes his head as he looks at her. “No, if we’re going to make time as quickly as possible, I need to carry him. You are far more maneuverable than I am with what I’m carrying. If we just move at speed, we can avoid most problems.”

Handy looks at him and lets out a long sigh. “High up though, right?”

Gearing looks at him and his shoulders sag as he hopes this isn’t going to be a long protracted argument. “A bit higher, at least until we’re over the mountains, and then, I promise you, we can go a bit lower if you want.”

Handy bobs his head around before he sits down and throws his forelegs around. “Well, shit, fine… As long as you get me back to my bed full of rugrats by tonight, fine. I’ll just deal with it.”

Swift zips over, grabs his face, and smashes it into her chest as she squeals. “I’m soooo proud of you!” She pulls his head out enough to give him a kiss. But, this time she doesn’t do anything to try and stupify him. “The kids will appreciate it. I know I do.”

Gearing walks over behind Handy as he asks,” Ready, you two?”

Swift nods as she chucks the empty sparkle cola bottle she’d just chugged up into the air, and it sails over the edge of the mountain not long after. The loud belch she shamelessly unleashes draws both of the bucks’ attention before she daintily puts her hoof to her mouth. “S’cuse me.”

Gearing lets out a laugh, but as he’s shaking his head and getting the connecting straps ready, they hear the sounds of a crash of glass, followed up with the twinkling of fragments. But, subdued, and only brought to them by an updraft of wind.

Handy looks over to the side and pales a little. “That’s… a long way down…”

Gearing hurries up and starts connecting Handy to himself. “I know, Handy. But, we got your back. Remember? If what we’ve already run into hasn’t made me drop you, then you should know I’m not going to.”

Handy looks at him sideways and purses his lips at Gearing. “But you threw me to my wife.”

“Well… I didn’t drop you though… and that should be the biggest concern…”

“You’re not going to throw me again, right?”

Gearing smiles at him as he wraps his forelegs around Handy and says with confidence, “I promise not to drop you, Handy.”

“Okay, well, tha- wait!” Handy says as his eyes go wide. “I said throw either! Gearing!” He squeals a bit as Gearing quickly takes off, with Handy wrapped up securely within his forelegs.

Swift laughs and carries on not far from them as she says, “Come on Handy. Just suffer through it a bit longer. We’ll be home soon and you can hide yourself in the warm safety of an underground room with a bed. Far away from the mean old clouds.”

Handy waves a hoof at her, but stops and thinks better of it as he would very much like to hold onto Gearing’s forelegs as tightly as he can manage. “Ooohhh just wait till I get you home!”

Swift rolls sideways, looking at him as she smirks. “Oohhh… have some plans for me, huh?” She licks her lips at him and giggles as he starts flushing and getting frustrated at her antics. Then she peels away and starts flying around them as she keeps an eye out for anycreature else that might cause a problem. But, the whole time, they start climbing until they get enough altitude that they don’t have to worry about critters jumping off the mountain and trying to grab them anymore. But, just as Gearing had commented, he actually warns Swift when they had gotten close to reaching the ceiling of what he’d already tested. And, even though they currently can’t spot any more of the thunder rods sticking out from under the cloud level, they would rather not risk it.

Gearing asks Handy with a chuckle, “What is it with mares and trying those kinds of shenanigans? Huh? They’re all the same in that regard it seems!”

Handy chuckles as he looks up at Gearing. “I know what you mean. I mean, I know I give you two guff for what Sable does. But, really, Swift’s just as bad. But at least she has the decency to keep it private… mostly… sometimes…” He shrugs as he starts laughing. “Oh, who am I kidding… My wife’s a little hornball that just won’t leave me alone sometimes.”

Gearing starts laughing and grins at him. “Uh huh. See. I knew it had to be something considering I really doubted it was Nettlekiss’s idea to let Sable have that chassis.”

Handy bobs his head around before he looks to the side, up at the clouds above, as he says, “I mean… even as I told her… who am I to tell somepony else what relationship is allowed. I’m sure there's plenty of others that’d give me a hard time about it if they could…”

Gearing looks at him and then shrugs lightly. “There’s always those trying to force their will on others. That’s apparently not changed in over two hundred years.”

Handy lets out a long sigh as he dares to look down. But instantly regrets it, and quickly goes back to looking up at the cloudy sky above. “Hey… so… you mind answering something for me?”

Gearing shrugs again before he says, “I can try… What’s up?”

Handy carefully maneuvers his forehoof to rub on the back of his head. “It might be a… sensitive topic…”

Gearing shrugs and says, “I promise not to get mad, then. If it’s something I don’t want to talk about, then I’ll just tell you that and as long as you respect that we’re good.”

Handy nods and actually smiles at the offer. But then he asks, “About the Wild Ones?”

“Those fuckwads?” Gearing asks flatly. “What about them?

Handy lets out a sigh and grumbles a bit before he asks, “How could you just do what you did to them? Like that group in the office building? They weren’t hurting anypony… You didn’t give them a chance, you … you just…”

“Slaughtered them on sight?” Gearing offers coldly.

“Yeah, that… how can you justify that.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he keeps flying along. After a moment he asks, “Which part, specifically, do you have a problem with? Because we’ve both killed ponies recently, so I doubt it’s the concept that bothers you.”

“I’d rather not, if I can avoid it! Even that Bradoak jackass, I tried to get him to just leave, even before I found out he was with the Institute… But, they didn’t leave us any choice in the matter…” Handy says as he visibly deflates a bit. “I just wish ponies were nicer to each other, and worked together, instead of just fighting against each other so often.”

“You do realize the Wild Ones were the ones that shot us down, right Handy? That they were the ones that nearly killed all of us? Including you?”

Handy lets out a snort before he says, “But those couldn’t have been the same ponies, right? Unless you’re saying you recognized them?”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks off into the distance. “No Handy. I’ve never seen them before.”

“Then… why’d you … just?”

Gearing keeps pumping away with his wings steadily as he looks off at the horizon in the distance, in the direction of Stable 68. He tries to collect his thoughts and figure out the best way to explain it. But he’s not sure how to make Handy understand.

“Handy, how much do you know about the Wild Ones?”

Handy shrugs. “About as much as you. They’re drugged up psychos that get hopped up on drugs and think it’s a good idea to start using other ponies for target practice.”

There’s a long delay before Gearing asks, “That’s it?”

Handy tilts his head to look at Gearing, but doesn’t really manage any eye contact as Gearing is still focused straight ahead. “Uh… yeah… why? What’s more to them?”

Gearing tilts his head to look at Handy sideways, “You didn’t talk to any of the Freight Cars about them?”

Handy shrugs before he says, “It didn’t really come up. Except that the Freight Cars were going to wipe them all out eventually. That they had a kill on sight order straight from Conductor.”

Gearing keeps flying straight, while giving Handy a single eye. “Did you ever ask why the Freight Cars wanted them dead?”

Handy lets out a sigh before he says, “Gearing, getting into political tiffs is no reason to start killing ponies. I know that probably got all of us a lot of points with the Freight Cars, and probably Big Daddy too… but… pony lives are worth more than that.”

Gearing simply keeps flying for a while as he looks at Handy with a single eye. A few moments later, when Handy thinks Gearing is going to just start ignoring him again, Gearing finally speaks, “I didn’t kill the ones in the office building because we were shot down. I killed the ones around the ambush site, because they shot me down… The ones in the office building, and the others since, I killed because of what I learned about them. And it’s the same reason that the Freight Cars want them gone.”

Handy lets out a sigh before he says, “Gearing, you can’t trust the word of rival gangs…”

Gearing snarls for a moment, actually causing Handy to flinch. “Handy, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about! These fuckers are worse than raiders. Not even the diseased bastards are this bad.”

Handy’s eyes go wide, and his mouth drops, before he says,”Whoa… hold on… that’s a bit of a stretch, Gearing.”

“Handy, those sons of bitches had a racket going on. They would kill, chop up, and sell ponies to help support their drug habit. It didn’t matter where they got the meat from. If they could get someone to pay them for it, in money or drugs, they’d do it.”

Handy’s eyes go wide before he says quietly, “You’re kidding…”

Gearing shakes his head slightly. “No. And to make matters worse… They were caught selling tainted meat.” Handy’s blank stare doesn't encourage Gearing much in the way of his understanding, so Gearing says flatly. “They’d kill infected raiders, and sell them off as well… Handy… they are responsible for at least two settlements going raider…”

“You… you have to be kidding…” Handy says with a soft voice.

Gearing shakes his head and goes back to looking ahead. “Afraid not, Handy. And it wasn’t just the Freight Cars that told me about it… In one of the buildings I ended up in… I saw their… butcher shop…” He lets out a sigh before he says, “Handy… they didn’t care about age, race, gender, anything… if they could trade a piece for just one more hit of their drugs they’d do it…” He tilts his head a bit as he frowns. “I’m sure their plan was to shoot us down, then serve you up to whoever they could.”

They fly on in silence for a few moments before Gearing says, “That’s why the Freight Cars want to annihilate them. Some of them lost family to their nonsense. And that’s the reason why I want them all gone. Because, while a raider at least has the excuse of a disease eating away their brain, giving them unnatural cravings, and amping up their aggression… those bastards chose to do what they were doing… They woke up in the morning, rolled out of bed, and decided, of their own free will, that today was a good day to kill ponies and trick other ponies into eating them… They didn’t care who they harmed in their pursuit of their next fix and, because of that, they are a danger to every single living being in existence… So they need to go…”

Handy hangs there in silence for a while before asking, “So, in reality, you weren’t going after them for some sort of vendetta? It wasn’t some personal grudge?”

Gearing snorts a laugh. “Oh. It was personal…” He tilts his head and smiles as he says, “I take it personally when someone thinks murdering random ponies is a good idea, and eating them is fucking hilarious… Just like the raiders, they’re a disease that needs to be removed. But, in a weird twist of fate, they are a disease of their own making. There’s nothing keeping them like that except their own desires.”

Handy steadily deflates as Gearing goes on and he thinks the whole thing through. And the more he thinks about it, the more bitter he gets. Especially at himself.

Gearing gives him a slight shake, which does an excellent job of startling Handy out of his quickly devolving funk. “Handy. Don’t start making those comparisons.”

Handy looks up at him and scowls as he asks, “The hell you talking about?”

“I know what you’d started thinking about. I can guess anyway.” He tilts his head to look at him again. “You’re nothing like them. You know from personal experience what it’s like to be under the influence of that disease. You fought it to the end. And, as far as your addiction, you’ve done an amazing job. I know it’s hard, Handy. I know you’re probably having to struggle with it each and every day. You’ll never be free of the cravings. There’s some treatments that might help, to get rid of some of the physical aspects of the addiction, but you’re always going to have the mental aspect of it. And, as someone who’s seen a lot of ponies fall into the various traps, I feel justified in telling you you’re doing an amazing job. You should be proud of yourself, Handy.”

Handy frowns and looks off to the side as he mutters, “I don’t have a problem…”

Gearing gives him a gentle squeeze. “There’s nothing dishonorable about admitting something you're working on. You’re working on yourself. That is a long term process. But you’ve done what you can for not only yourself, but your family. You’ve done right by them. And you’re trying each and every day. And, honestly, that’s all you can do. So don’t be too hard on yourself for only doing what you can. That doesn’t make sense, does it? It’s not fair either.”

Handy chuckles as he smiles, but his eyes burn with the threat of tears. “Gee, what are you now, my therapist?”

Gearing laughs as he shakes his head. “Nope. Not at all, that’s not a job I’d ever want… I’ve been to enough of it myself though.”

Handy looks at him and asks, “Yeah? How’d that go?”

Gearing starts laughing harder before he says, “Well… I ended up driving one buck to drinking…”

Handy laughs and asks with a grin, “Why, cuz he was tired of your smart ass?”

Gearing shakes his head and grins. “Naaaah… He asked me to unload some of my shit so he knew what I was dealing with… So he could come up with some sort of plan… He ended up cracking open a bottle and directing me elsewhere because it was too much for him to handle…”

Handy laughs, but then he looks at Gearing’s bitter smirk. “Wait… You’re not kidding, are you?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nah, Handy, I’m not… Most of us that got too close to shit ended up with more than a few screws loose. A few others ended up with the same screws too tight. And, well, they didn’t last long.”

As they are flying along, with Gearing still holding Handy comfortably to himself, he doesn’t offer anymore as the mood’s soured considerably. After a while of traveling in silence, Handy asks, “Can I ask you another one?”

“Sure, Handy, go for it.”

“If the treatment didn’t work… if I went full raider… if I wasn’t salvageable… what would you have done?”

“I would have put you down as quickly as I could once I realized the danger. Then cremated the body. I’m sure Swift wouldn’t have liked it, and it would have caused a huge uproar. But at that point it’s one half brain dead buck versus an entire stable, with foals in it… The math’s not that complicated…”

Handy looks at him for a moment before he asks, “You’d do that for me?”

Gearing tilts his head and looks at him. And sees the complete confusion in his eyes. Not from anger or indignation, but like he’d been offered a once in a lifetime opportunity that he couldn’t believe. Like he’d won a mansion, servants included. Gearing nods as he looks him in the eye. “I wouldn’t want to leave you that way. Not just because of what you could do to others. But… hey… my mind’s one of my few redeeming qualities, and if I lost my mind I’d see it as a horrible way to live too. So, yeah.”

Handy stares at him for a moment, then squeezes Gearing’s forelegs harder. “Okay, then, I want you to promise me something.”

Gearing grins at him as he shrugs. “I’ll do what I can, but I’m only one buck. What’s up?”

Handy squeezes hard onto Gearing’s forelegs more, and looks around, then spots Swift flying about further on up. He stretches his neck a bit and whispers, “I haven’t told Swift about this… I know how she’d take it… but… you know… You’re enough of a bastard, you might just listen.”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Hey, that’s glorious bastard to you, pal.”

Handy smirks, but then it slowly falls off his face. “Gearing. All kidding aside. I still have nightmares about that shit. I- the things I wanted to do. No pony should have to go through that. What I almost did…” He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. “I have nightmares about waking up, and finding the bodies of my children, where I half ate them…”

Gearing keeps his pace, goes back to looking ahead, but turns an ear so he can hear him better. “That’s… I’m sorry, Handy.”

Handy taps him on the cheek a bit before he says, “Yeah. So… If something happens. If that cure isn’t as full proof as we’d hoped. If I revert, or get infected again… if the worst comes to worst…”

“I’ll put you down, Handy,” Gearing states flatly without giving much other indication of recognition of the rest of what he had said.

“Don’t let me hurt my kids, Gearing. Please. If you gotta beat Swift unconscious to do it, fine, she’s as hard headed as any earth pony mare I’ve met. So you probably will have to. But don’t let me hurt my kids.” Handy asks as he stretches up a bit and tries to look at Gearing in the eye.

“I won’t, Handy. You have my word… If you start going cannibal, and acting like foals are making you snackish, I’ll put you down as cleanly as I can,” Gearing replies flatly.

“You will?” Handy asks with a near sigh of relief.

“Yeah, Handy. Even if you didn’t ask me to, I would,” Gearing replies matter-of-factly.

“Swear to me,” Handy demands as he starts scowling at Gearing. “I don’t want any bullshit platitudes. I want to know if I ever become a threat to my kids that you’ll send me straight to tartarus without hesitation.”

“I said I would,” Gearing replies softly.

“Swear it,” Handy demands again. “Swear it on whatever you actually believe in. God, technology, your own ego. Whatever you actually value, swear to me that you’ll make it happen.”

Gearing tilts his head and looks at him for a few moments. “First, I’m not going to help you commit suicide. If I gotta stick with this bullshit existence, I’m not just going to help some depressed pony out of their own funk that way, get me?”

“That's not funny, Gearing…”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“Fine, whatever. I’m not asking for that. Only if I’m a real credible threat to my foals. If it’s them or me, make sure it’s me. Every time. Swift would try some shit where everyone’s safe, because she’s a bit dumb and with a big heart like that, but she’d lose us all in the process. So… just make sure it’s me.”

Gearing looks at him and frowns for a little while. He looks up and into the distance as he tries to give it some consideration.

“I’m not hearing you swear on anything, Gearing,” Handy comments with a voice that sounds far more concerned than anything.

“Handy, there’s not much I have left to believe in. Everything I knew was gone. I could have sworn on my mom’s life, but she’s already long gone. I could have sworn on my oaths to keep Equestria safe, but that’s been blown to hell. Literally… Any kind of ‘divine’ being can lick my oily golden nut sack… So I don’t know…”

Handy looks at him and asks, “How about on your sense of right and wrong?” Gearing turns his head and looks at him. And Handy gives a faint smile as he snorts. “I mean, I don’t usually agree with the way you just do everything without talking to anyone… but… I’ve learned -I mean I think I have- that you have a very … consistent… ? Code of ethics. You do what you think is right. And while what you do has really irritated me to hell and back at times, I can at least trust you to act on your instincts and your heart. So… Do that… Swear that you’ll use that as a guide, and that if you deem me to be a threat to my foals, you’ll remove it… Just like you’d remove any Wild Ones you come across.”

Gearing lets out a long sigh as he looks around. But then he nods. “Okay, Handy. I promise. If at any time I come to the realization that you’ve turned into a slavering monster, bent on murder and not in control of your own actions anymore… If you’re actually lost to us, I’ll do it. You’ll become just another threat to be eliminated and I’ll do it with extreme prejudice.”

Handy smirks as he says, “Well… that’s a bit much, but I guess that’ll do.”

Gearing shrugs and chuckles. And they continue on for a bit longer before he asks, “So, got any preferences for how you wanna go out?”

Handy raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I mean, if I gotta do it, you have a preferred way?”

Handy gives him a sheepish smile before he asks, “Would it be cowardly of me to ask you to do it in a way that won’t actually hurt?”

Gearing grins as he says, “Nah… that’s fair… So. But, yeah, I got something for that.”

Handy’s ears perk up before he asks, “Seriously, Gearing? Already? Like, I only asked you to do it a few minutes ago and you’re already thinking up a way to plan my execution?”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “Handy, I keep a variety of stuff on me all the time. I know what I can do with each of them. I kept it so I can use it. I don’t plan on taking anyone out in particular with it unless it comes up.”

Handy stares at him for a few moments before commenting. “That’s honestly pretty scary, Gearing.”

Gearing chuckles before he asks, “Yeah, well… speaking of scary…” He looks at Handy and gives a sheepish grin. “Any suggestions on how to deal with your wife? So we don’t end up destroying the stable, or whatever, in a fight if it happens?”

Handy deflates a little bit before he closes his eyes and lets his head hang down. “I- I really don’t know. As long as I’ve known her… I don’t know how you’d go about trying to calm her down. Maybe, I don’t know, knock me out, throw me in a medically induced coma and just let me go that way. If we had a stasis pod, maybe that could work too. But, yeah, I don’t know, Sorry, Gearing.” He looks up at him and smirks. “Some battles you're just gonna have to figure out on your own.”

Gearing laughs loudly before he looks at Handy, “Well, fuck you too, Handy.”

Handy looks up at him and grins. “Right back at you, asshole.”

After a few more moments of flight Handy says softly, “Hey, Gearing?”

“Yeah, Handy?”

“Thanks for listening to me about it. And taking me seriously. I know some might try to give me some crap about how not to give up or not to think that way… but... They’ve never been through it- they don’t know- they can’t know… So… Thanks for agreeing to take care of it…”

“Welcome, Handy. Besides… I won’t have much of a choice in the matter… The stable’s got a lot of kids in it and we can’t risk them getting hurt or, worse, infected themselves.”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he moans, “I hope we never run into infected foals… That’ll gut me…”

Gearing readjusts his hold on Handy as he says “Yeah… let's not think about that… I think we both have enough nightmares to deal with without having to add to the fuel for them…”

Footnote:

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Author's Note

The trio finally gets to start heading home, and use the time to have some pretty productive conversations. If nothing else but to distract the poor earth pony from the fact that his hooves aren't anywhere near the ground anymore.

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97 Event Full Trip

Handy and Gearing continued to talk, even as they descended back down closer to the ground. Handy wanted to be even closer to the ground, especially after finally making it over the mountains, but as the wide open areas of the wasteland stretched on, and the buildings in various areas became more prominent, Gearing wasn't too pleased with the idea.

As they are passing over an area that looks like it used to be another industrial hub, complete with a few taller buildings near the center and surrounded by larger, but shorter, buildings around it. Plus the accompanying single story buildings that might have been cafes and such that would have serviced the working class that had frequented the area every day. There are many piles of rubble all throughout it, and surrounding it. With an area that looks like it used to be a suburb not far away, judging by the road ways, but most of them have collapsed into unidentifiable rubble with only a few studs or frames sticking up out of the architectural graveyard.

Swift flies closer to Gearing and Handy as she points off in the direction they are going. “We’re not too far away now! Maybe an hour? All we gotta do is head in a straight line that way and we’ll be home, finally!”

Handy lets out a sigh as he looks around at the ground below, and for once doesn’t feel as bad as he did before. It’s still uncomfortably high for him, but he’s been testing his restraints and they are sufficiently secure to himself, and Gearing. So he’s trying to think of himself just up in a really tall tree, with vines holding him to the tree. And it helps, a little bit.

Except that the ground under them keeps moving which means whatever ‘tree’ has him tangled up in its vines would be having to run and that just brings up other things for his psyche to fret about.

Gearing nods as he double checks his marker on his PipBuck. “Yeah, it’ll be about an hour, a little more maybe. I’d like to go down to ground level when we get near some ruins close to the stable so we can walk the rest of the way, or at least not be as noticeable about where we’re going. Maybe swing into some ruins and make folks think we we’re bedding down for the night there before carrying on.”

Swift turns and flies upside down as she grins. “Yeah, why not. I’d prefer the extra caution too. We’ve already been gone this long, what’s an extra couple of minutes or so?”

Gearing smiles at her, but then his eyes go wide as he screams, “Incoming!” and he breaks to the side and down.

What Swift didn’t see, because she had decided to show boat by flying backwards while talking to Handy and Gearing, was that someone down in the rubble near one of the semi collapsed warehouses had not only noticed the group flying by, but decided to see what they had. Especially with one of them seeming to carry so much stuff with them. And to satiate their curiosity, they decided to use a LMG that would normally be mounted onto a piece of equipment. So it’s not going to be nearly as accurate as it would normally be if it was mounted onto an armored wagon, tank, or other hardware. But with calibers of that size, they only have to get lucky once.

And they do.

As Gearing had pulled back and cut air to dive back and away from the bullets he saw being fired, he only got so far before he saw, with terrifying clarity, as one of the rounds managed to bisect the leading edge of Swift’s right wing. With the warning, she had started a twirl, trying to make herself a harder to hit target, and planning to drop down to avoid the incoming rounds. And she was successful in avoiding a few shots, but that one shot that had hit, hit in such a way that her right wing bends, arcs backwards unnaturally, and practically implodes against the air itself.

And, as both Handy and Gearing are watching, Swift starts falling out of the air as her colorful feathers scatter out and blood twinkles in the dim cloud filtered sunlight.

Gearing twists back over, watching as another spray of bullets comes up to greet them, and actually kicks Swift up and at an angle, before falling back himself, With the maneuver he manages to dodge the next burst, while keeping Swift out of it as well, as she is falling down completely unable to control her descent.

Gearing dives down with her, trying to match speed as he works furiously on his own equipment.

Handy screams out. “Get closer! Grab her! Don’t let her fall!”

Gearing calls out to Handy, “Hey, Handy.”

Handy looks at Gearing, with panic written all over his face. “What?!”

Gearing gives him a sheepish grin.” You remember what you said about me doing what I thought was right?”

Handy freezes, and his eyes start going wider. “… uh?”

Gearing gives him a smirk. “Do you trust me?”

Handy stares at him, and his pupils shrink to pinpricks before he replies, flatly, from the bottom of his soul, “No.”

Gearing grins at him as he says, “Great to hear!” and then he starts rotating faster and faster as he’s heading down to the ground. And then, when he sees another burst of fire coming from the ruins in their direction, Gearing changes angles a bit, and launches Handy up into the air away from himself, but then he grabs Swift and chases after Handy as he begins the same spiraling maneuver.

Handy soars through the air, from where Gearing had simply chucked him into the wild blue yonder. He flails around, and has a hard time trying to get oriented as the sky and ground seem to rotate and spin around him so quickly. The world flies by him at an alarming speed. Because he’s spinning in every possible axis and has a hard time getting his bearings. But one thing he does notice is that after the ground seemed to rapidly get smaller and farther away, suddenly it changed its mind and started getting bigger. And it’s coming. At an even faster rate. And the entire time Handy is shamelessly screaming like a filly that just had a spider drop into her mane.

Gearing, after snagging Swift, dodges a few more bursts of fire directed at him, using the distance he’s gaining away from their attackers to give him more response time to act. And, to try and help, he throws Swift away from himself, over and at an angle, as he goes the other direction. But this time, as he does, he clicks on SATS, pulls out the prototype IF-88-M, and unleashes a barrage of shot in the direction of the light machine gun that has been harassing them. Gearing has no real expectations of harming, let alone killing, the operators, but one thing he does know is that ponies simply don’t like getting shot at.

So if he can throw some hot metal in their general direction, it might help throw their aim off even more, and, possibly, could make them seek shelter long enough for them to get away.

And after popping off just a couple rounds, he quickly stows the shotgun again, grabs Swift, dives down towards the ground in Handy’s direction, then spins around and, again, uses the added force of the spin to launch her back up into the air, along with further away from the warehouse. Like this he keeps playing a weird juggling game of keep away as he works on keeping all of them out of the direct fire being shot at them. Then, after he manages to get a larger outcropping of rubble, where a taller building had fallen down yet still stands several stories in the air even as rubble, Gearing catches Swift onto his back. He screams at her, as she’s still screaming in agony about her wrecked wing, “Hang on tight! I still gotta get Handy!” And then dives and catches Handy with his forelegs as they have fallen down to only a few stories above the ground. Gearing holds on tight to Handy, and keeps swerving and diving and bobbing and weaving until he gets a distance away from the entire industrial zone. Gearing yells, “Swift, drink the rest of that potion, I know it’s not going to help a lot, but it’s better than nothing… Drink another one if you got it, especially one of those enervation eaten up potions.”

He gives Handy a squeeze as he asks, “Handy… Handy, you okay…?”

Handy moans and groans as he hangs limply within Gearing’s forehooves. After a bit, Handy replies quietly, “Gearing…?”

Gearing grins as he replies, “Yeah, Handy, I got ya…”

Handy moans as he says, “You threw me… you threw me a lot…”

Gearing smiles sheepishly as he says, “Well. I didn’t drop ya…”

Handy keeps dangling there limply, like a freshly hunted game animal. “Gearing.”

“Yeah, Handy?”

“I told you I’d throw up if you-” his words are cut off as, mid sentence, he begins vomiting uncontrollably. At first it was just a bit of spit up, caused from the nausea of being shaken up so much. But after that first taste of bile hits his taste buds, his stomach decides that that sounds like a really good idea, and the rest comes out as a projectile vomit like a miniature geyser. As they are traveling over the wasteland, and Handy is unleashing what’s left of his breakfast, and lunch, they angle more and more away, keeping as much of the topography as possible between them and the buildings in the distance.

But, as they are traveling, at a height that makes Gearing comfortable, on the ground is a group of mutated hogs. One of which still has bits of brain matter and blood from one of its relatives matted to its fur from the last traumatic experience it had been through. But, as the trio of ponies are flying overhead, with one screaming out obscenities in pain and anger, one sounding like he’s talking underwater, and the other just trying his best not to laugh about the ridiculous situation, the hog looks up.

And just as the hog with the matted hide on its side looks up to see what the noise is about, a shower of bile and other unidentifiable half digested material falls down and splats across the hog’s face and back. There is only a pause of a fraction of second, before the smell strikes the hog’s sensitive nose, before it starts running around and squealing in horror at what had just been done to it. If radhogs had a belief system in a higher deity, it would currently be screaming ‘Whyyyyyyy?!’.

Handy, as he’s finishing purging his stomach, looks back and towards where they’d just passed over, and comments weakly, “I’m sorry, piggy… That wasn’t fair to anybody. You didn’t deserve that…”

Gearing laughs as he asks, “Nice one! You got’em on the move on your first try! How’s it feel to do some aerial crop dusting, Handy?!”

Swift screams out in frustration as she hits him in the back of the head a few times. “That’s disgusting, Gearing! This ain't the time for that shit!” She throws the bottle she’d drank off to the side, not caring at the moment about trying to save them.

Handy, dangling from Gearing’s forelegs moans, “I take it back… I hate you, Gearing… You’re evil.. Urrrp…”

Gearing keeps looking around as he asks, “”Swift, how’s the wing? Think you can fly?”

Swift carefully stretches her wing and groans. “I drank one and a half and my wing still feels rough. I think I can fly, but nothing fancy.”

Gearing starts gaining altitude as he starts flying in a straight line, after adjusting his heading. “Fine. I can carry you both. But I can’t do anything fancy either. Or I’m liable to drop one or both of you. And if my wings get blown out, we’re all screwed.”

Swift turns back and looks in the direction they’d come from. “When I get my shit together, I’m coming back, finding those fuckers, and pounding their head into the cement!”

Gearing laughs before he asks, “You wanna do that? Okay!”

Swift turns her head and leans to the side so she can see his face. She keeps clinging onto his saddle bags and general hoard of his and tries not to move too much so she doesn’t cause him to lose her. “What?”

Gearing nods back towards where they’d come from. “Those assholes are obviously a threat to everyone. And, in case you haven’t noticed by now, I do not take kindly to folks shooting at me or my friends…”

Swift grins as she asks, “You for real?”

Gearing nods. “Those kinds of assholes hole up in a local area. Let’s get home, get ourselves taken care of, and then, after that, we can come and track them down to give them a solid face blasting.”

Swift scowls as she looks back where they’d come from. “I hate guns…”

After a bit more, Handy asks, “Gearing…”

“Yeah, Handy?”

“You’re not going to just leave without us, are you?”

“Huh?”

Handy wipes his muzzle before grabbing a hold of Gearing’s forelegs that are wrapped around his chest more. “You’re going to let us get some payback against them, right?” He straightens up a bit more before he says, “That asshole shot my wife. And made me throw up all over the place. I want a piece of the fuckers. Sledge to the face, face to the wall kinda way.”

Gearing smirks as he nods. “Sure, Handy. We can do that.”

Swift grins as she gets Gearing’s attention by tapping on his shoulder. “So, you going to let us have some fun for a change?”

Gearing looks back at her and closes his eyes as he gives her a smug grin. “As I recall… you’d said not to start any wars without you… well… if you’re there, then it’s alright, right?”

Swift’s grin turns nearly fanatical as she nods. “Oooohhhh yeah it is…”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Hey, stop breathing so hot and heavy… Your husband’s going to think something’s up.”

Handy smirks as he settles into the grip Gearing has on him. “That’s not the kinda pounding she wants, Gearing… and I’m going to tell Sable you’re trying to start stuff.”

Gearing tilts his head and looks at him. “What?”

Handy grins at him. “You start stuff, and get my wife on me. Well, I’m going to get your marefriend on you.” He grins widely as he says, “I’m gonna tattle!”

Gearing purses his lips to the side before he says, “See, I was just trying to play around with you guys, and you’re trying to take things to a dangerous level… I like having the ability to walk, you know…”

Both Swift and Handy start laughing, and continue as Gearing begins a circular spiral that brings him into a gentle landing in a mostly collapsed building. He flies in straight from above, through the mostly missing roof, past the multiple floors, and lands straight at ground level on the concrete foundation that’s still exposed despite all of the rubble that’s fallen down around it. He lets Handy off, a little roughly, then lands to the side and starts helping Swift off.

Handy looks around, then opens up his PipBuck to double check their location. “We’re kinda a ways from the stable, aren’t we?”

Gearing nods as he starts looking over Swift’s wing without even asking for permission to do so. “I don’t want us drawing unwanted attention. Shit keeps seeing us and thinking ‘oh, dinner!’ so I’d rather we walk in the rest of the way.” He grimaces as he’s looking over Swift’s wing and starts manipulating it around.

Swift looks at him as he carefully manipulates her wing and smirks. “Alright doc, what’s the verdict?” She sees Handy looking over at them and Swift points at Gearing with her powerhoof. “He’s the resident expert on ‘fucked up wings’ so if anyone can tell me what’s up, it’d be him.”

Gearing gently prods along the leading edge of the wing and slowly nods. “I think it’ll be okay. Not a career ending injury at all. Close. The potions seemed to help. But, I’d wager, you just need a round through the medbay’s auto doc.” He lets go, letting her fold her wings at her side. He nods to the side as he says, “Let’s head out. We’ll be there in about half an hour walking it.” He looks over at Handy and nods towards him. “You too. In fact, I think all three of us need a round through the auto doc.” He points back at Swift. “Swift first, then you, and then afterwards I’ll take my turn.”

Handy tilts his head as he asks, “Why me?”

Gearing shrugs. “Handy, after getting shot down and everything else, I’m pretty sure you both have metal and other shit in you that needs to be removed. The auto doc can handle that. Potions are good for a quick fix. But they aren’t the be-all end-all of medicine. They’re a stop gap measure, not a substitute for proper treatment.”

Handy thinks it over for a few moments, then reaches down and holds his abdomen a bit. “You’re probably right. Especially after falling off that building and getting cut up by all that glass.”

Swift looks over at Gearing and asks, “So, when are we going to go deal with these tools then?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks around. “Well, we could either set out as soon as we get patched up, or we could wait until tomorrow morning and try hunting them down?”

Swift scowls as she pounds on the ground a few times. “I’d really like to take care of them now. I’m pissed.”

Handy looks her over and then lets out a sigh before he asks, “How about we plan on doing it in the morning.” He instantly gets a scathing stare from his wife, so he quickly adds, “It’s been a long trip. We’re all tired. We’re still going to need some treatment, and that’s going to take a while anyway. So we might as well get a good night’s sleep before heading out to knock them into the next world.” He gives her a sheepish smile as he adds, “And after we get a nice hot shoooowweerrrr…?”

Swift stares at him, and a momentary glint of moisture shows up on her mouth as she actually drools. She quickly wipes it off, then looks off to the side as she says, “Well. I mean. If you really want a shower that bad… and a warm bed… With centralized air… I suppose we can wait until the morning…”

Gearing laughs and starts leading the way out of the collapsed building. He jumps over the half wall made of brick, where a display window used to be, and heads out into the rubble strewn roadway.

The others quickly follow and, this time, they’re all keeping an eye on their surroundings as they start winding their way through one ruin after another. Then they cross into a more open area and Swift takes the lead as she motors on towards the stable. She recognizes the area from one of her trips out, and helps pick out as many paths that’ll keep them out of sight at a distance as possible. And her excitement at returning home to her children makes her steadily increase speed the whole way as she gets a burst of energy at the thought of their upcoming reunion.

By the time they are reaching the old station where the stable is hidden, it’s already starting to get late. Swift and Handy hurry on inside and down towards the stable door without even pausing.

Gearing, however, makes a quick detour.

He walks over to the stone with the rough engravings on it. He grabs a plastic bottle that had gotten blown up against it, along with a bit of brush that looks like a bush weeds skinny cousin, and tosses them off into the rubble beyond. He sits down in front of it as he says quietly, “Hey. I’m back. I know we never got to talk, in person. But, I thought you just might like to know that I’ve been giving some slavers a real hard time. You’re never going to see them, obviously. You’re free from that. And they’re trapped in hell where they belong. I’ve got a few plans in place that’s going pretty well. So far. But, get ready to throw a party, because there’s going to be a big one kicking off soon.” He starts standing back up as he grins. “I’m pretty sure, wherever you’re at, you’re going to be able to see the fireworks from there. So… enjoy the show…” He turns and walks away as he comments, “Rest well, Figgy.”

By the time he gets to the stable, the door’s already open and waiting for him. And there is a group of protectaponies approaching the front door from deeper inside. As soon as he gets inside, he starts the process to shut the door again, and then looks at the protectaponies and asks, “Why are you guys here?”

“The crea-tor commanded it. You have supplies that need carrying. We shall carry them for you.” One of the protectaponies comments as they start extending out their restraining cables.

Gearing smiles as he looks them over. “Well, that was really nice of him. Yes. Thank you. Here.” He starts taking all of the bags off, except for a couple of the smaller ones, and deposits the metal reinforced leather bags down for the protectaponies to take. “Please take these to the door for the decontamination chamber for the R&D area. I’ll organize them from there.”

“““Affirmative!””” the protectaponies say in unison before grabbing the bags swiftly and starting to trot off.

Gearing watches them go, then smirks. “Man, those guys are helpful… Well, time to get home myself…” He starts trotting down the hallway, following the protectaponies. But, before getting very far, he gets jumped on by a small filly. Gearing turns and twists as he tries to see who just jumped onto his head, and he looks to the side to use the glass in the door’s reflection.

He smiles widely as he says, “Hi, Plum Pie! It’s good to see you too!”

Apple Armor charges up from the side, spins around, and bucks him right in the right foreleg. But the impact causes him to recoil and collapse as he just hurt his own hooves. He rolls over, holds onto his hindhooves with his forehooves, and looks up at Gearing with his eyes glinting like he’s on the verge of tears. Though Gearing’s pretty sure it’s because he just shell-shocked his own hooves.

Apple Armor yells, “You wanker! Looks what you did!”

Gearing smirks as he leans down towards him. “Me? You did it yourself!”

Apple armor scowls before he replies, “You said you weren’t going to be gone long. But you were. You all left. But then Sable came back carrying Nahlah who was so messed up she couldn’t even walk. And dragging along a buncha weird kids, too. And they said you weren’t going to be far behind. But you didn’t come back. Until now!”

Plum Pie squeezes onto Gearings neck from behind as she groans, “You said you’d teach us stuff. But you were gone foorreeevveeerrrr… What happened? Why were you gone so long? Why are you so dirty? Why do you smell so funny? What’s this icky stuff all over you?”

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he looks at himself, and sees that he’s still covered in pieces of giant bat and insects. A good portion of which has been smashed into his gears and plates. He looks over at Apple Armor as he asks, “Well I’m not sure what you want me to say? Shit came up while I was up there. Lot of fuckers tried me. And they found out it was a bad idea.” He points at himself with the bloody viscera embedded into his bags. “And on the way back, a bunch of shit tried us. Again. Didn’t work out too well for them. But, we made it back, didn’t we?”

Apple Armor looks up at him and after a few moments he asks quietly, “Couldn’t you have like… let us know at least? That you’re alive and not like… dead in a raider’s stomach or something?”

Gearing lets out a sigh before he nods. “To a point… but… I’m working on getting that system up. I was just testing its range while we were out too. I’ll talk with Sable about it and see if the system worked or not. There should be several messages waiting for me. It’s not a two way radio, but I’ll be able to send updates at least.”

Plum Pie leans to the side to look at his face before she asks, “Are you okay though? You look baaad… You look like you got beat up pretty bad…”

Gearing looks at her out of the corner of his eye as he says, “Don’t worry Plum Pie. It’s not mine. And, after I get cleaned up, and after Swift and Handy have their turn, I’m going to have the auto doc check me out to make sure everything's okay. Alright?”

She puffs her cheeks up a bit but then gives a quick nod. “Well… okay then… But, you better be okay, or I be mad…”

Gearing tilts to the side, stretches out his wing, and lets her slide off of it back to the ground. He looks at her and sighs as he says, “In fact, you probably need to go have another shower, just from touching me. I don’t know what was up with those bats and bugs but you never know what nastiness they might have been carrying.”

Plum Pie scrunches up her nose, sniffs her own hoof, then sticks her tongue out. “Blech… you’re stinky stinkness is on me…”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Sorry. I’ll go get cleaned up.” He looks between them as his ears perk up. “Oh, about the other kids, how are they getting along with everyone?

Apple Armor scrunches up his face a bit before sticking his tongue out. “The fillies are really annoying, always singing and wanting to play around. The colt’s not so bad. But they’d been getting more than a little annoying about asking when you guys were getting back. At least they’re helpful around the stable. Working with them seems like a game and things get done sooo much faster… And they got along great with Pharynx, at least until he left.”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Yeah, they kinda have that effect on ponies…” He shakes his head. “Wait, Pharynx left? Like? Left left? The stable?”

Plum Pie nods. “Uh huh. He was talkin’ funny about having to go somewhere.”

Apple Armor nods as well. “Yeah. I said he was nuts, but he said he had somewhere to be. He left a note and some stuff for you with Sable before leaving.”

Gearing looks between them as he asks, “How long ago was that?”

Apple Armor shrugs as he says, “Couple days ago.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know.” Gearing frowns lightly before starting to walk past them. “Okay, you two. I’m going to go get cleaned up and check in. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

Apple Armor rolls over and waves both forehooves at him. “Hey, you wanker, you promised to teach me to shoot!”

Gearing looks back at him and grins. “Sure. We’ll start working on that soon. But I got a few more things I need to take care of.” The crestfallen look on Apple Armor hits Gearing hard so he quickly adds, “I’ll give you things to look over while I’m busy. That way we can go over it. And, yes, it is needed. It’ll help you shoot better and take care of your equipment better. And, with that, it’ll make you a better markspony.”

Apple Armor frowns a bit before bobbing his head around. “Well… okay… as long as you actually show up… I guess…”

Gearing smirks and waves at them as he heads on down the hallway towards the deeper parts of the stable. As he’s coming up to an intersection, Cure comes around the corner at full speed and gets in front of him. Gearing slows his pace, and stares at the hovering robot as he wonders what this is about.

Cure waves one of its limbs as it says, “Subject Gearing. I am here to assist you in sanitizing yourself. If you would follow me we can begin the process of removing the various contaminating filth from your body.”

Gearing smirks, starts angling around it, and waves it away with a hoof. “No thanks, Cure. I’m heading down to the R&D wing. I’ll use the decontamination chamber to get cleaned up.”

Cure turns and starts following him down the hallway as all of its eye stalks are focused on him. “But, subject Gearing, it would be closer to follow me and allow me to do it for you. Thus it would be more efficient.”

Gearing looks at her and smirks as he says, “That’s okay, I mean, I need to go see Sable anyway. She’s always trying to get an excuse to get her hooves on me, so-”

“Subject Sable has already given permission for the cleaning procedure to commence,” Cure suddenly blurts out.

Gearing stops and looks at her. And they stare at each other for a few moments before he asks, “Sable said it was okay?”

Cure’s claw bobs in agreement as she says happily, “Yes, Subject Sable not only gave permission, but actually suggested it.”

Gearing stares at her for a few more moments. Then his eyes widen a bit. “Sable’s passing up a chance to hop in the shower with me?”

There’s a bit longer of silence before Gearing turns and starts walking towards the R&D section. Faster than he had been traveling a moment ago. “Something’s not right…”

‘She wasn’t at the door to greet us this time either,’ the little pegasus in his head comments worriedly.

She’d have known we were back when Handy and Swift walked in and he sent the protectaponies to help carry stuff for me, Gearing mentally agrees.

Cure follows along behind him as she repeats, “Subject Gearing, we need to return to a location where I may aid you in cleaning any contamination from your person.”

Gearing keeps waving her off and, eventually, just outright starts ignoring her. Something’s not right and it’s bugging him more and more. When he gets to another intersection, he has to stop as he hears stampeding hooves. And just as he does come to a halt, a trio of fillies comes sliding out of the cross hallway right in front of him. With a smaller colt coming to stop right behind them a moment later with his own skidding to a stop entrance.

The smallest filly points up at Gearing as she scowls. “Target located!”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as he actually takes a step back. “Whoa, what’s going on with you kids?!”

Adagio Dazzle hops closer as she practically prances and squeals, “You’re back! Is Swift and Handy back too?”

Gearing nods as he points back towards the medical wing. “They’re both getting seen in the med bay. We had a rough trip back.”

The colt rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, our trip back was rough too.”

Gearing looks at him and tilts his head. “What do you mean, Andante? Were the tunnels collapsed or something?”

Adagio sits down as she lets out a sigh. “That was only the half of it… not even half, really...”

Aria nods as she says, “Yeah. The zombponies were the worst of it.”

Sonata agrees. “Totally.”

The colt nods rapidly as he says, “Those zombponies were crazy! And there were sooooo many of them!” He waves his forehooves around in excitement.

Excitement that really doesn’t seem to fit for a situation where somepony’s talking about cannibalistic creatures trying to end him.

Gearing slowly sits down as he asks, “Wait, the tunnels had ghouls?”

Adagio rolls her violet eyes before she says, “That’s like asking if there’s any water in the ocean…”

Aria nods as she says softly, “Loooooots of them… lot and loooots.”

Gearing looks them over, and then remembers the conversation with Apple Armor. They’d mentioned Nahlah making it back. And Sable was the one that brought her, so obviously Sable made it as well. And then the four foals are here. So, by his head count, everyone managed to make it back. So the quickly edging panic that had started bubbling up threatening to explode out starts settling down. Because regardless of the trials along the way, they all made it. And he can take solace in that. So he takes in a deep breath before he asks, “So did your songs manage to keep them away?”

In an instant, all four of the children lose their enthusiasm, and out right cringe as they stare at him.

Andante comments. “Not… exactly.”

Gearing looks at him and his eyes go wide again, and the panic he’d been feeling starts bubbling up again. “… How… how not?”

Adagio frowns as she says, “There was just soooo many of them… We sang, and sang and sang… but… the trip was so long-”

“And we had a hard time finding our way through too” comments Aria. “So it took even longer.”

“And there was areas so thick with them that not even the song would work, they had nowhere to go…” Sonata comments as she looks down.

Gearing looks between them before he asks, “So, I guess, Sable had to help you?”

Andante bounces around excitedly as he says, “Oh wow, Sable’s amazing, you didn’t tell us that she was like a super duper monster pony!”

Sonata looks back at him and scowls. “That’s rude! No mare wants to be called a monster!”

The young colt, not losing any enthusiasm as he seems to have gotten on a roll, adds, “She didn't’ take nutt’n from nopony and kicked their flank up one tunnel and down another!”

Aria looks at Gearing and says softly, “Sorry…”

Gearing looks at her and asks, “Why?”

Adagio starts, “Everything was going fine.”

“At first,” Aria comments.

Adagio nods. “Yeah… And we were singing and singing and having fun, and… you know… just walking…”

“But they just kept getting thicker and thicker” Aria filly adds.

“Walls of zombponies” Sonata adds with a frown.

“As far as the eye could see!” Andante says as he bounces around and has way too much happiness in his step for Gearing’s liking for what he’s starting to imagine in his mind’s eye.

Adagio waves towards Gearing. “We kept having to close in to each other. Because the tunnels were so small. And we ended up completely surrounded by the zombponies… but… by that time, our song wasn’t strong enough any more to make them run away, it just made them move.”

“And keep their distance” Aria adds.

The colt deflates a bit as he says, “But… all of that started tiring us out… Never had anything like that before…”

Sonata nods as she says, “So we had to huddle up next to Sable, while she carried Nahlah. And the zombponies were walking with us. Like, they were waiting on something.”

“They were waiting on us to stop singing, of course,” Adagio says with a sigh. She looks at Gearing and waves off to the side. “It got to a point where we had to take turns. And take a break. And by then we just had this tiny little bubble keeping them away from us. It was sooo scary.”

The colt frowns as he says, “And I got so sleepy I could barely move at one point…”

Sonata nods. “We ended up having to go into a small room, that was set up as a break room for maintenance ponies. And while we kept them outside of the door with our song, Sable built up a barricade. And then we were able to try and rest.”

The colt groans. “But the moment we stopped singing, they started trying to get in and break down the barricade.”

Sonata nods. “So we had to take turns again. And it was soooo bad… Because we had to have one of us by the door while the others tried to sleep. And then, we kept having to switch off.”

“But… that worked?” Gearing asks

The children, all of them, instantly cringe again. “No… not really.”

The colt starts bouncing up and down as he says. “That’s when Sable went like… really really scary mode. She was like ‘I’ma dragon, raaaawwrrr’ and just beat up the zombponies so quickly it was hard to see!”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and Aria adds, “She started just shooting them. Before that she had said she was wanting to conserve ammo. In case she needed it. But, well, apparently she was right. Because she did.”

Gearing smirks as he asks, “I take it she let loose with the minigun?”

The colt bounces around as he says, “Yeeeaaaaah! She was all” he stands up on his hindhooves, acts like he’s holding a minigun with his forehooves, and starts rotating back and forth. “Ka ka ka ka ka kaaah! Die zombponies! Die die die!” He hops around as he giggles. “And she started firing her pretty magical lasers and the zombponies started fluttering away in the wind. It was really cool!”

Adagio frowns as she says, “Yeah, but, that only lasted so long…” She looks over at Gearing and frowns even harder. “I don’t know how much ammo she took with her for that minigun, but it wasn't enough.”

Aria groans. “The minigun my butt. She fired everything she had. Everything she found, and then started using other stuff to bash and smash them.”

Andante bounces excitedly as he says, “Yeah, like, this one time, we made it to another maintenance room. And like. We were really really tired. And we just couldn’t sing anymore. So Sable stood at the doorway and beat them up. She kept firing with her laser as quickly as she could, but had to keep stopping because it was getting too hot or something, and then and then, she was all like ‘I’m gonna choke the rivers with your dead!’ and started bashing them with her hooves and a fire extinguisher and a vending machine and and and it was just really kool!”

Sonata looks up at Gearing as her eyes go wide. “She said she’d build walls with their corpses.” She lowers her voice to a whisper as she adds, “She diiiid…”

The colt bounces some more and points at her as he says, “Yeah! She like, clogged up the hallway with dead zombponies. And they just kept coming. But she’d smash their head, stab them, or crush them and after a while it was like an avalanche of dead zombponies so the others couldn’t try and get us anymore. They just stood on the other side screaming and yelling at us, but… you know, that’s fine. They couldn’t get in the room.”

Adagio nods as she points at Andante. “And there was a couple times she had to connect to the grid. A couple of the maintenance rooms had working recharge pods, but others she had to rig something up. She said that’s the reason her laser kept heating up, because she was sucking power straight from the grid to use her magical laser while we tried to sleep.”

Gearing blinks a few times before he asks evenly, “So, she carried Nahlah, used up every bit of ammo she had, switched to lasers, drained her power, kept recharging to get more, and still had to resort to beating others with her bare hooves to keep you all safe?”

They all nod in unison and respond like a chorus, ““““Uh huh~!””””

Gearing quickly gets up and starts walking by them. “I need to go check on her. I’m glad you kids are okay. I’ll talk with you more about it later. But I need to go see if she’s okay.”

Andante hops up and down as he waves after him. “Don’t worry, the zombponies couldn’t bite through the metal, they tried!”

To this sudden extra bit of information, Gearing takes off at a fast trot, just a shy step under a full run, as Cure keeps floating after him and trying to get him to follow her to get cleaned.

And the closer he gets to R&D the more insistent she gets. But, he’s completely ignored her at this point. No matter how concerned her voice sounds as she stalks him. His metallic hair is starting to stand on end and he really needs to see Sable. Now.

He gets to the decontamination chamber and hits the button to open the door. As he’s walking into the room, he comments, “Don’t you dare override this to make it take longer…”

Once the door closes, he starts tapping his hoof, and looking at the far door, as he waits for the process to end. And, despite what he thinks might happen, and what he might have to do to get out of the room, the routine ends. And Gearing looks at himself and notices that there’s more than a few bits on him that need to be removed still, so he’s not actually sanitary at the moment, and needs a full wash.

Which means somepony was listening when he snapped at them walking into the chamber.

Before the door is even open all of the way, Gearing hops through it and quickly starts looking around. He couldn’t see much through the glass. There’s been several things placed over near the glass, and it’s blocking the view deeper into the R&D section. And he starts walking in quickly, looking back and forth, and, after kicking on his EFS, he sees a marker where he didn’t expect it. He goes over to the door into the hidden compartment as he’s calling out. “Sable?! Sable are you here?”

“Gearing, wait! I’m not dressed!” Sable’s voice calls out from the hidden compartment with what can only be described as a mild panic in her voice.

Gearing takes a step into the room, completely ignoring the strange comment, and looks over right where he knows the friendly marker is. His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops as he quickly starts shaking over his entire body. He needed answers when he came down, now he needs them even quicker.

Footnote:

Processing . . . Verifying Matrix Status

Processing . . . Reinitializing, Please Stand By. . .

Processing . . . Decoding, Please Stand By. . .

Processing . . . Unpacking Node . . .

Processing . . .

Author's Note

After an absurdly long detour looking for necessary components, the trio finally make it back home. But not without running through a gauntlet of adversity along the way.

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99 Re-up, Ready-up, Re-turn

By the time Gearing finally finishes, both his stories, and answering any questions that Sable has along the way, it’s already well into the next morning.

Gearing’s pipbuck alerts, and he carefully checks it as Sable loosens her grip on her blue furred body pillow just enough for him to do so. He flops back down again onto her as he lets out a long sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

Gearing groans again. “It’s Swift. They’re up. And they’re wondering when I want to go. We need to go deal with those assholes that shot Swift down yesterday.”

“That is understandable. Do you believe they could be connected to the Wild Ones that had shot us down previously?” Sable asks as she starts rhythmically massaging him again, taking particular joy in playing with his blue mane with her forehoof.

“Wrong side of the mountain range, Sable. So it’s not likely. Plus, whoever it was, was using an LMG… much bigger caliber. I’m pretty sure they were throwing fifties at us…” Gearing replies as he doesn’t seem to want to pull away from her and end their snuggle session.

“Then my darling Gearing needs to be careful. Projectiles of that caliber can cause significant damage. I do not wish for my darling Gearing to prematurely terminate…” Sable says softly.

Gearing grins as he nuzzles into her a bit. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on just standing there and letting them chew me up with their auto fire. If I can manage it, I’m going to take them out from a distance. Or, maybe, silently and up close. It’ll just depend on what opportunities we can find once we get there.”

“Must you go so soon?” Sable asks with a frown as she pauses rubbing all over his body to give him a decidedly possessive full body squeeze.

“‘Fraid so. But, we’re not going far, and will be back today. That’s one of the reasons we have to go; they’re way too close for my liking.” Gearing replies with a frown. Sable starts loosening her cables, then looks down at him as he looks up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Sable?”

She smiles at him, then kisses him on the nose. “My darling Gearing has not had his turn in the medical pod yet. My darling Gearing must tend to his health, before he journeys out and gets injured again.”

Gearing smirks as he asks, “What makes you think I’ll get hurt?”

She stares at him for a moment before she narrows her eyes at him. “Because it seems that’s all you’ve been doing since you left here last: getting hurt. And even more so when I’m not around.”

Gearing goes slack as he practically melts over her and groans. “You know, I really would like to disagree with you… but I can’t. Not without lying through my shiny teeth… I’ve been shot, burnt, exploded, crushed, smacked, drowned, molested by gravity, and magically nearly torn apart -repeatedly- over this past week alone… And unless someone's got a megaspell big enough for the whole world that’ll make everyone play nice again, I don’t see that changing anytime soon…”

She slowly manipulates him, to pull him up and look him at eye level. But, he simply lays there limp and not holding up any of his own weight as she holds him like a dead chicken in mid air. “Do you not want to go? I am sure Subject Handy and Subject Swift will understand if you decide to stay in, after everything you’ve been through lately.”

Gearing looks at her in the eye, then stretches out just enough to kiss her gently on the snoot. “I don’t want to go, but I have to go. I don’t want out of your embrace, but I need to make sure this gets done. Because if anyone else gets hurt, it’s going to bug me for eternity. And… really… The guilt’s getting heavy enough already…” He smooches her again on the nose before he puts his legs down around her, starts holding up his own weight again, and starts pulling away. “I’ll make sure to get back as soon as I can.”

“I am sure my darling Gearing will… However, we are going to the medical bay, and you are going to get tended to… After that, we shall return here and get you ready for your trip,” Sable says as she starts standing up.

Gearing starts stretching off to the side as he says, “Nah, I can just grab what I need and head up there. More efficient that way.”

Sable grabs him with her cables, and yanks him over to herself as he’s still in the middle of a stretch. She spins him around, gets face to face with him, and has a grin of glee on her face as she manages to so easily overpower him in the current situation. “No. You will report to medical. You will receive treatment. And then, and only then, will you be allowed to come and retrieve your equipment. I’ve already sent a message to Swift and Handy explaining that you still need treatment, and we will contact them once you are finished. So there is no need for you to rush away. And, as for the other materials you had brought with you and left on the other side of the decontamination chamber, I shall clean, inventory, and organize them while you are gone. So that you may use them as you wish once you return. Is that an acceptable compromise?”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments before he smirks. “I didn’t really hear much in the way of compromise there… More like you dictating on what we’re doing?”

She starts massaging the length of his body as she leans in closer to him and rubs noses with him. “The compromise, my darling Gearing, is we get to be together for as long as possible before you finally do leave the stable again… And I’m going to make sure that every inch of you remembers me, and wants to come back to me, while you are out and about on your mission.”

The blue form covering him starts getting sucked into his body in rapid flows. And quickly Gearing’s golden brassy body is left fully exposed as he stares at her with his mouth hanging slightly ajar. Gearing’s ears start whistling as he asks, “E-every… Every inch…?”

She tilts her head as she grins at him. “Mmmhmmm… I’m going to cash in a good amount of my credits tonight, after you’ve finished with what you are doing today… that is… If you’re feeling up to it…”

Gearing's ears whistle a bit louder, but then he smiles as his ears flop down. “Yeah… that sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening, Sable.”

Sable gives him a quick kiss on the nose and then sets him back down again. “I am glad my darling Gearing thinks so as well. I shall look forward to it and prepare accordingly.”

He grins at her as he stares at her and thinks about it. But then he arcs an eyebrow before he asks, “‘Prepare accordingly’? What do you need to ‘prepare’?”

Sable reaches out with a hoof and boops him on the nose. “That, my silly little stallion, is my secret.”

‘I kinda like the accent,’ the golden pegasus in Gearing’s head comments.

‘Kinda alluring, isn’t it?’ the little blue pegasus next to him replies.

Gearing shivers from his nose to the tip of his tail as she ever so gently touches the end of his nose. He can’t comprehend it. The slightest touch from her having such an impact on him. The way his very body is reacting to her like it has some sort of muscle memory from years of training. And it’s confusing to him on so many levels. Even more so as, before she can even get her hoof far away from him, he catches it with his own, then proceeds to plant a kiss on the edge of her hoof as he looks her in the eye. But it just felt so right to do. “I’ll look forward to it.”

They get up and head out and up to the medical bay. Along the way they are strolling side by side, giving each other gentle bumps and tender caresses with either wing or cable. And after making it into the medical bay, Sable helps Gearing into the auto doc pod and stands at the side of it, looking in as the machine goes about the task of looking over Gearing. The two stay quiet the entire time, and no one interrupts them, as the auto doc continues working.

And working.

And working.

And, despite the intention of this being a quick trip in the pod and then out, it takes a bit longer than either of them expect.

And as Sable is helping Gearing climb back out of the system, after everything is said and done, he actually points out the fact himself. “I wonder if the thing needs some work itself. That seemed to take longer than it should have otherwise.”

After she gets him out, and onto his hooves, she stares at him for a few moments before asking. “How are you, my love?”

Gearing starts stretching, and, as he starts moving around, he can’t help smiling as his movements do in fact seem to be a bit faster. And some things aren’t as grindy as they had been. In short, he does feel even better. Even though he didn’t realize he was having some discomfort in a few places. Now that it’s gone, he really notices it. “Better. Somehow. Good even.”

She reaches up, and gently touches his left ear. Giving the barely noticeable waving aspect of it a gentle caress before trailing her hoof down to his cheek. She keeps caressing his cheek for a few moments before she says, flatly, “When you get back, whether you have any combat action or not, I want you to get back in the medical bay pod.”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “Why?”

Sable steps to the side, opens up a compartment, and slides out the portion where the auto doc puts foreign objects it’s removed from the body. It’s inside of a clear container, a type of transparent metal with a gasket at the top, so the contents may be dumped hygienically into an incinerator or whatever the waste needs to go into.

Gearing’s eyes slowly go wider by the second as he looks inside what Sable is holding in front of herself with her cables.

He stoops down and starts eyeballing the contents as he asks, “… When was the last time this was changed?”

Sable comments flatly, “It was changed after Handy had his turn through the system. Which he was the last one to use the system before you… My love, this is all from you… And from this round of treatment.”

Inside of the container is a variety of fragments that Gearing can’t quite identify. There are many shiny bits of metals. Thin fragments of copper. Warped pieces of either lead, bits of steel, or iron in the mix as well. There are also many bits of what can only be bone fragments. But, and what’s most worrying for both Sable and Gearing, is the amount of pieces of brass pieces inside of it. There are fragments. But then, there are entire cogs, pins, and small fragments that have been taken out, somehow, and put into the container. But, Gearing can tell, the pieces weren’t from his anatomy. Not currently. They had all gone inert. Somehow, there were this many pieces, somewhere within his body, that had become so damaged that they had gone inert and had, through some combination of bad luck or timing, gotten stuck inside of him instead of being cast off like most other pieces. And, a good portion of them are from a region around his head, almost to be expected, but others still are obviously from somewhere in his torso.

And all of them look sickly. Malformed. With pits and slight warps to them such that they don’t really look like they should have ever been attached to him, but they had to of been for them to be inside the auto doc’s discharging container.

As Gearing is still staring at it, Sable shakes the container lightly, making it jingle a bit, “What would you like to do with all of this discharge, my love?”

Gearing keeps staring at it then comments, “Store it in a jar, would you? I know this is going to sound weird, But I’d like to look through this later. See what’s going on with all of it.” He points at the bottom as he smirks. “I see sand in there too. And I figured some of that crap had gotten deep enough in me to cause a problem, but that’s ridiculous…”

Sable dutifully uses her cables and snoops through a few cabinets nearby, looking for a container to pour it in. And Cure, already seeing what had been going on, quickly zips over, opens a cabinet in an entirely different area, then comes over as she is opening up the lid. “Here is a suitable container to carry the waste materials from the automatic doctor.”

Sable quickly pours the contents into it, even tapping the back to get more of it out. And as she is shaking and tapping and shaking it even harder to try and get the rest of the tinier particles out, Gearing laughs and waves at her.

“Sable, I don't need all of it. That should be enough.”

Sable looks at him. Then smiles. And as she is blindly putting the lid on it that Cure had given her, she summarily gives Cure the container from the auto doc so it can be sanitized, cleaned, and replaced back into the machine for the next individual to use.

Though while bets would assume Gearing would be the next one, with so many foals running around, that sort of thing wouldn’t be sure money.

Afterwards, Gearing leads the way out and back to the R&D department as Sable carries the quarantine container with one of her cables. And, the whole way, the two walk side by side. Gently rubbing up against each other, with Gearing’s wing slowly creeping over and, eventually, grabbing Sable sideways and pulling her into himself by the time they reach the halfway mark. And, Sable, having been getting more and more encouraged with such actions has no problem with reciprocating by giving his shoulders, back, and sides gentle squeezes with her cables. By the time they get to the entrance to the R&D container, Sable has coiled up her restraining cables around his legs, and is massaging them along their full length, but in such a way that it doesn't impede his movements.

And, after they are stepping into the decontamination chamber, Gearing looks at her sideways as he asks, “So, have you changed your mind on letting me out of your sight? Or are we actually going to manage to get out of this room without me pinning you to the wall and making Nettlekiss jealous?”

Sable giggles as she gives his entire body a gentle squeeze with her cables. “My love, as much as that would be positively amazing… We need to be sensible. Our friends need your help. And, as loath as I am to admit it, you are the best pony for the job for tracking down and bringing bad ponies to justice. So, I won’t stop you from going. But, I will make sure you know what you are missing. And, I’ll make sure you positively know that I’m going to enjoy every second of us being together until you actually do have to leave.”

Gearing looks at her sideways and raises an eyebrow. Something seemed a bit off to him as she’d commented on what she wants from him. But he can’t quite put a pinion on it.

The little blue pegasus in his head flies around as he looks at Sable and asks, ‘Did our ears get changed a bit, or did her voice change? It seems… different… not bad… just… different…’

The little gold pegasus sits with his hindhooves dangling lazily off of the edge of a cloud in the mind space as they gently swing back and forth. ‘I don’t know, but it sounds sweet to me.’

Kinda… sweeter… for sure, Gearing mentally agrees as he looks at her.

Gearing starts stepping through the door as it opens into the R&D section and starts heading over to where he’d stashed his equipment. “Well if you’re going to be so reasonable, then I’m going to have to insist on you taking advantage tonight of that I.O.U. check I wrote you…”

Sable giggles and gives his flank a light slap, leading to a blatant groping of his rear, with a cable. “Well now! How is a mare to refuse such a generous offer?”

Gearing chuckles as he’s pulling out a few items from his personal weapons locker. “Okay, so, now I need to get my gear and head out.”

Sable walks over, sees him pulling out the various items, and then asks, “My darling, Gearing… where is your armor?”

Gearing hangs his head a bit before he looks at her sideways. “The vast majority of it had been trashed. The one set I had Patches help me make, is still at her place because it took so much damage clearing out those raiders in the police building. The improvised suit I made for information gathering isn’t really useful for much else. And, well, the suit I went up there with got converted to the suit that Patches helped me with, what was left of it anyway, but you’re already aware of that…”

Gearing sets out a couple weapons and as he’s setting out various ammo for them, Sable leans over, and looks him in the face. Her eyes quickly narrow at him. “Why are you not withdrawing any armor?”

Gearing frowns as he says, “I don’t have any other sets really ready for now. I’ll have to work on converting one of the other sets into something that’ll work for me. But don’t have time for that at the moment.”

Sable stares at him for a few moments, then narrows her eyes further. “Do you mean to tell me you plan on purposely entering into a hostile zone, with full intention of engaging in combat, but with no armor, what so ever?”

The little blue pegasus recoils as he says, ‘Wow is she spitting ice, now, or something?! Bbrrrrrr!’

Gearing looks at her sideways, and actually recoils a bit himself as she stares at him like a hostile turret. “I- I mean… yeah… but-”

Sable shakes her head and spins around. “No. This is not acceptable. Armor is made to be replaceable. You have been far too injured far too much lately, even with armor. You are not allowed to go seeking combat without at least some protection.” She trots over to one of their storage crates, and starts rapidly removing a variety of items. In quick succession, she’s laid out, in a perfect grid, a set of combat armor that had been taken from the Gunners. One of several sets they had managed to acquire, but one that had not been modified for him at all.

Gearing looks at it and frowns as he says, “Sable… that’s not going to work very well… my gears are going to rub on it, it’s going to be uncomfortable, and I’ll just end up damaging it just by walking around…”

Sable holds up a few pieces as she scowls at him. “Well then, you can just fix it when you get back… Or use pieces of this one to modify another one that can be set to fit you more appropriately. You’ve explained your mission to me. This should be sufficient enough to complete that mission. And, if you think you are going to be gone for more than the afternoon, you really should postpone the trip until after you’ve made appropriate repairs to your armor supply.”

Gearing looks at it as he bobs his head around. “You know… you’re right… If I just use this as a temp set, and just long enough to take care of those assholes in that warehouse, that should be good enough.” He looks at her and frowns as he says, “It’s still going to chafe though…”

She smiles and tilts her head rather cutely as she asks, “But, that will give me an excuse to massage your soreness, would it not? And, you are going to be entering the auto doc for treatment once you return, so even if there are any real injuries from it, it’ll be taken care of by the healing abilities of the auto doc, correct?”

Mentally a record screeches as all three Gearing’s stare at Sable wide eyed.

‘Did she just-?’ the golden pegasus asks.

‘-Offer to kiss our soreness away?’ the little blue pegasus finishes.

Uh huh, Gearing mentally nods.

Gearing stares at her for a moment before he reaches for one of the larger pieces of armor. “You had me at ‘massaging your ouchies’, Sable… gimmie that.”

She giggles and keeps it away from him with a cable, swatting his hoof away with another one as she stares at him. He looks at her with a raised eyebrow, but then smiles as she walks over and starts prepping the armor herself. He stands up straight, and lifts his wings, so she can put the pieces of armor on him. And, just like she had done previously, she performs one of her favorite rituals by planting kisses along him, before covering up such affections with a piece of armor. After a bit longer than necessary, where she’s readjusted pieces, and planted extra kisses along his neck, she finally relents and steps back as she starts looking him over. She tilts to the side as she asks, “My darling, I don’t know what kind of enchantment you have on your soul, but whatever you’re wearing always makes your flank look so cute…”

Gearing tilts his head towards her as he grins. “You should see me wear a bodysuit…”

Sable’s eyes start growing wider before she asks, “Do you still have that one?”

He grins at her and nods over towards a chest. “Yeah. I put it away already. I need to fix a few holes in it along the legs, but, beyond that, it should be good enough to give you a little…” He shakes his rear at her. “Fashion show… of sorts…”

Sable’s eyes open to their max, with her robotic eyes seemingly nearly jumping out, and her grin gets wide, but then she starts prancing in place as she half stamps her hooves in frustration. “Geeaarrriiinnnggg! You’re teasing too much! You shouldn’t wave your glorious flank at me like that and then just leave!”

Gearing shakes it again as he grins at her. “What are you talking about… I haven’t left yet…”

She darts her eyes back and forth between his rear, and his eyes, before she springs forward, grabs his cheeks with her forehooves, and plants a deep kiss on him. And, of course, given the blatant permission via endless teasing, she extends a few cables to explore his back side with her retaining cables and finding the experience nice but not entirely satisfying as the armor plating around his haunches prevents her from getting a real grip on her Gearing’s real rear.

Gearing shimmies a bit back, into her blatant groping of him, and can’t help but giggle, even mid kiss, as she lets out a few huffs of frustration. But, after a bit, She actually picks him up, spins him around, plants a kiss on his flank, and directs him towards the door to the R&D section.

She points at the door with a hoof as she says, “If we do not hurry and begin your trip, I’m in danger of ripping your clothes off and not letting you leave until I’m overloading my capacitors!”

Gearing chuckles and starts pointing to the side, but can’t help but smile as her cables rapidly bring over the various equipment he had already set out to take. As she’s setting his new shotgun into the holster he’d whipped up for it, he nods his head and asks, “Think you can last until tonight?”

Sable stares at him in the eye then leans in and plants a very sweet, tender, and light kiss on his cheek. As she’s still hovering there, with her lips so close that they brush against his cheek as she talks, she replies, “My love, I’ve been waiting this long for us to have time together. I can certainly wait a few more hours. I know you are close. I know you will return to me. And, above all… I know you truly love me. And there’s nothing more in the world I can think of that I’d enjoy even more than knowing that fact.”

Gearing turns to face her, then suddenly strikes like a cobra. He grabs her head with one forehoof, twists his head a bit unnaturally, and begins a deep kiss attack on her as he leans into her. He gently caresses one of her cheeks with his wingtips as he does, and she is so shocked about this sudden development that she does nothing. Because she doesn't want it to stop. But at the same time she has a worry that if she tries to escalate it any, he’d prematurely end it.

So, when he finally starts pulling back, she simply puts a hoof to her mouth and beams a smile at him before she says, “Thank you, my darling Gearing…”

Gearing slides his hoof from around the back of her head, to caress her cheek before he says, “Yes. I’m yours. And I’ll do what I can to make sure you never have to question that fact again. I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to make you wonder in even the least. Sable, you’re a kind of special that I can’t even define.” He leans in closer as he smirks, “Let me put it this way… if you were out and about when I was working for the government… They’d have a real concern on their hooves because at anytime I would pick you over them… Without a single regret.”

Sable trots happily in place for a few moments before leaning in and nuzzling his neck. “I love my darling Gearing!” She brings a foreleg up, around his neck, and pulls him in a bit abrasively before she says into his ear, “My love. I’m sorry. But you really need to go. I won’t be able to control myself for much longer if you keep this teasing up. A mare can only handle so much, you know?”

He gently pulls away from her, then kisses her on the nose, before turning and heading toward the R&D door. And, before the door is even open all the way, Sable has caught up, and caught him. She wraps him up with her cables and continues rubbing him in various locations as they go back towards the front of the stable. But, as they are going through the main area, Sable lessens her overt groping of him. But, even so, she keeps at least a pair of her cables along his shoulders as she keeps giving his shoulders squeezing massages the entire time.

By the time they are entering the foyer for the large door that leads out of the stable, Handy and Swift have already gotten there. This time, however, no one is around the door trying to sneak out. Apparently all of them have sufficiently been corralled elsewhere. So it’s just Handy sitting around on the crates that have been set up as a defensive position just inside the giant cog shaped door that leads into 68, while Swift and Scarlet are standing near the door to the rest of the stable that Gearing and Sable are approaching.

“But, dragons?” Swift asks as she rubs her chin.

“I know it sounds weird, but, yeah…” Scarlet says with a sigh as she looks at Swift.

Swift’s eyes dart to the side, seeing Gearing and Sable approaching towards them down the hall, and then gives a quick nod to Scarlet. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help. Gearing’s here, so we’ll talk about it more later when we get back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Scarlet looks behind her, sees the pair coming, and then lets out a sigh as she nods. “Okay. Well, thanks. Good luck out there.” And then she turns, making a wide arc, and scurries past Sable and Gearing as they are entering the stable’s main door’s entryway.

The pair barely pay Scarlet any mind as she’s passing them, as that seems to be what she’d prefer at the moment, and continue towards where Handy is seated.

Both Swift and Handy look spectacularly better than they had looked before. Both of them are not only clean, both armor and clothes, they both have apparently changed their clothes. Gearing can tell, even under Handy’s armor, that he’s apparently wearing a new stable maintenance jumpsuit. As several of the holes that had developed while they were up in the Hoofington region are not only gone, but there’s no sign of any kind of patchwork that would need to have been done to cover up such holes. Although Gearing can’t help but notice the fact that Handy’s armor has had some quick patch jobs applied to it, but that it should be good enough for what it was. And as he’s looking him over, Gearing can’t help wondering if it was simply because Handy was in a hurry, or if he really didn’t know how to do a better job of it. Which starts making Gearing think about showing him how to do a better job of maintaining his own armor for the future. Because now that Handy’s not being such an ass to him anymore, and has started giving him the same courtesy and respect he’d give any other creature, Gearing doesn't have nearly as many scruples with actually being nice to him in return.

And, as for Swift, her wrappings and clothes have also been changed out. They had gotten pretty worn out from all of the action up north, and that was before they had even reached Megamart for the first time. Let alone all of the action and excitement since then.

And as Gearing is walking in, both of them look fresh, refreshed, rested, and ready to get on with the day. And the grin Swift gives them when she catches sight of Gearing and Sable lets Gearing know that she’s definitely ready to go.

“Hey, Swift, how’s the wing? You guys going to be okay to go? How’d it go with the auto doc?”

Swift’s excited face suddenly starts drooping as she groans. “It went, what else can I say?”

Handy chuckles then looks over and smiles at Gearing. “That machine pulled out more metal out of her than you’d think. I had a bunch of bits of metal and glass in me too. I thought I’d gotten it all out, but apparently not. But at least now my shoulder doesn’t keep hurting me, and I know why.”

Gearing nods as he walks over to them. “Well, the problem with healing potions is that they just increase your natural healing rate. They don’t get rid of anything. So, all of that crap got trapped in your body…” He waves a hoof as he says, “That’s why I suggested the trip through the auto doc. It’s actually programmed to find that kind of crap and remove it. Any foreign body, really.” He perks up as he raises a hoof. “Relatedly! If you happen to have one of those anti pregnancy copper implants? You need to change the settings on it so it knows to not remove that too. Because that’s not a natural part of your body and the system will just read it as another foreign object and remove it while pulling everything else out.”

Handy’s eyes go wide before he asks, “You’re kidding?!”

Gearing shakes his head.

Swift laughs. “And how’d you know about that? That’s more than just a bit of funny tech trivia.”

Gearing shrugs as he says. “Actually, it was a bit of a problem in certain areas. Some of the mares coming back from the front line getting taken care of. In extreme cases, when doctors weren’t available, or it wasn’t quite that bad and instead they were just thrown into an auto doc. But, they aren’t calibrated for pregnancy prevention implants. Not by default. So as the mare’s were getting treatment for battlefield injuries, the machine would see it, and be like ‘oh no, you’ve been shot in your abdomen!’ and remove that too. I mean, most of those mechanical-chemical implants were copper. And some rounds have a copper coating to them. So, even from a programming standpoint, it was doing what it was supposed to.”

Handy raises an eyebrow before he asks, “And how’d they figure out the screw up?”

Gearing smirks at him as he says, “After an epidemic of pregnancies struck a few units… there’s rules against fraternization, of course, but it’s mostly a ‘hey, don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t get caught’ kind of thing. So a good portion of mares would get the implants just to avoid any unwanted accidents… to be fair, a few even got them in case of any instances of rape… lesbians included… anyway… it was kinda hard to deny that anything had gone on when a group of mares all at the same time showed up pregnant. It was really a ‘Something in the water’ kind of conversation… And they were all very much surprised about what had happened. It didn’t take long, especially after checking the logs, to figure out what happened…” Gearing shrugs. “After that initial wave of unexpected pregnancies they made a point of starting to set them up correctly and had procedures in place to prevent it from happening again. It caused a whole ordeal.”

Swift smirks as she asks, “Why, because suddenly a lot of soldiers had to go on maternity leave?”

“Worse,” Gearing replies. “Because now there was a small living diaper wearing undeniable proof of violations of code of conduct. A lot of soldiers got in a lot of shit. Both sides of the sirings at that. If I recall correctly, a few officers even lost their commissions when it came out that they’d been having affairs with a couple enlisted.”

Swift’s eyes go wide as she says, “Oh… yeah… that’s a whole ordeal alright.”

Gearing nods and looks between them. “Anyway… your wing’s good again? Really?”

Swift flutters up in the air and starts flying back and forth really quickly, then making figure eights in the air that get tighter and tighter as she giggles. After her bit of acrobatics she stops and looks at Gearing. “As good as new!” She slowly lowers back to the plating of the foyer as she asks, “How about you? Ready to go?”

Gearing taps on his chest plate, on his helmet, and then shakes his shotgun. “Yup. I’m armored, locked, and loaded. Whenever we find those fuckers, I’m going to blast them, ask questions of the survivors, and then, maybe, blast them a few more times.”

Handy smirks as he’s getting up. “They piss you off that much?”

Gearing narrows his eyes as he looks at him. “Well, they shot your wife, aren’t you mad too?”

Handy grabs his sledgehammer, and swings it around, before setting it so the handle is on the ground and the pneumatic head is upright. He grins as he rests his chin on the top of the mallet head. The mallet has obviously had a lot of maintenance. A few parts seem to have even been replaced. And the entire thing has been cleaned up such that it looks like it’s been entirely rebuilt. “You could say that… You could also say that I’m looking forward to repaying the fuckers by playing croquet with their empty ass heads.”

Swift flutters around as she asks, “Well, are we going to just stand around here talking shit, or are you going to actually go and take out the shit?”

Gearing looks at her as he grins. “I mean, we can do both… And, if we really want to make them suffer, we can always have Handy crop dust them. That seemed to be a fate worse than death for that radhog…”

Handy quickly lowers his head as he groans. “That poor poor piggy… I’m so sorry…”

Gearing trots over, starts the process to open the stable door, and quickly shakes his head. “Look, if we find a device that lets us talk ‘mutated ugly hog’, we’ll go find it and tell it we’re sorry for having you puke on it. But, for now, let’s go rake the muck out of that warehouse.”

Swift giggles in mid air and holds her stomach as she sees Handy looking visibly ill at the thought of it.

Handy shakes his head, grabs his hammer, and puts it over his armored back as he starts walking across the gangplank that leads to the door before it’s even really started opening. His desire to escape the conversation being palpable for all around.

Sable steps over quickly, and nuzzles up to Gearing as they watch the door to the stable open. And, true to form, Gearing uses his wing and holds her to him sideways as they watch the sequence complete. And they stay in that gentle side embrace until the door has entirely opened, even after Swift had flown out and Handy had quickly trotted after her.

Gearing gently pulls away, and heads out of the door, but feels Sable still with him. Literally. As she has her cables over him and he can both feel and hear her walking along behind him as they head for the door. But, at the entrance, where the giant cog actually separates the pony made cave beyond, and the interior of the sable on her side, Sable stops him and gives him a gentle tug to get him to turn.

Gearing turns and before he gets far, she grabs his cheek and gives him a soft tender kiss. But, despite what may be thought, she simply leaves it at that. She pulls away and starts backing into the stable as she says, “Stay safe out there, my love. And, if you need assistance… you know how to get a hold of me.”

Gearing smiles and nods. Then he turns and trots away. And, as he’s climbing the ramp up and out through the hidden door to the station. Sable stays watching as long as she can. And then, and only then, after Gearing has exited out of sight entirely, does she turn and start closing the door for the stable. And she stays standing there, watching the door close, until the process has completed, including the above lights going out and the alert sounds ending. After that is finalized, she turns and heads off towards the Research and Development area so she can continue with a task that she had been interrupted with previously. She loves her darling Gearing, but this task is important for the mare to do herself. And she can’t help but get giddy at the thought of one day revealing the final results to her chosen stallion.

In the building above, Gearing closes the trap door leading down to the stable, and then starts walking through the service station. It actually takes him a few moments to get outside and find Handy standing under the awning where wagons used to stop to receive service, or stop to walk inside to buy something. And he notices Swift already flying around a bit off in the distance, as she apparently went out, took off at speed, and then gained altitude to scout out the area for them while she waited.

Gearing walks up next to Handy and asks, “What’s up? I figured you’d already be starting to head off?”

Handy looks up from the wreck of an electric sign that’s laying on the ground and stares at him for a moment. “You know, I was thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” Gearing replies with a smirk as he looks at him. A smirk that just gets even wider as Handy stares at him and narrows his eyes at him. After chuckling a bit he asks, “About what?”

Handy waves around at the service station as a whole as he says, “You know, what we were talking about earlier. About starting up a shop?”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah, about that… We still need to come up with a good name for that…”

Handy nods emphatically before he says, “True! But, I was thinking, you know, we already have the station here. Couldn’t we, like, fix it up, and just open the store here? It’s already in pretty good shape, we wouldn't even have to really do much to it.”

Gearing tilts his head, then starts giving it a discerning eye. “You know… you’re not wrong… but…”

Handy lets out a sigh as he says, “But it’s too close to the stable, would be a target by itself, and isn’t close enough to any real settlements, so we’d have to worry about security all the time… right?”

Gearing smirks as he asks, “Damn, just fired that off that quickly… Why’d you even need to ask me?”

Handy bobs his head around as he says, “Well, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one thinking it. It would be nice, but it’d also be a problem keeping it safe.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah… well… shit…” He looks around a bit more before he says, “We could set up a shop in Megamac, you know? Maybe start off with making some deals with some of Bottlecap’s caravanners. I know Roadie comes down this way. He might be interested in it. Selling on commission… maybe… Or maybe he’d just want to trade or buy stuff…”

Handy nods and comments, “It’d be a way for us to bring new stuff into the stable… I mean, we have enough food production, for now, and water’s not an issue… But… There’s more to life than bare minimum life necessities… We’re already surviving, I want my children to thrive.”

Gearing nods as he leans against the pillar for the awning above them. “Yeah, I know what you mean… Well, we could look into-”

Swift zips down, flies right between them, and stops on the other side of the pair with a gush of wind. She starts hopping around as she asks, “Oh my god! Are you two back at that shop crap!?” She hops around with her feathers fluffing out in irritation. “I thought we were going to go out and kick ass and take out the garbage?!”

Gearing slowly looks over at her, then looks sideways at Handy.

Handy, already seeing the glint in Gearing’s eye, snickers before waving towards Swift, silently allowing him to take the lead.

Gearing waves it away dismissively. “Yes, we’re going… And we’re going to take those fuckers down. But, after they get made into pony jam, what do you think we are going to do with all of their stuff? Armor, weapons, and the like?”

“And don’t forget whatever they might have stashed… radios included… I heard ponies are paying good money for functioning radios these days…” Handy adds with a grins as he looks at Gearing, but then gives his wife a playful side eye.

Swift’s wings dip down a bit before she mutters, “You bastards are going to make me sell your shit, aren’t you?”

Gearing and Handy look at each other, then they start roaring with laughter as Swift starts stomping and screaming about becoming their salesmare.

Gearing waves it off before he says, “Don’t worry. I plan on actually bringing the stuff back here before we even think about selling it. There’s a lot to get organized. And a lot that’ll need to be repaired too, I’m sure.”

Swift looks at him and snaps, “Just where the hell you plan on storing it all?! You keep this up, and the R and D is going to be flooded with crap and you won’t have room to walk!”

Gearing grins at Swift. Then polishes his hoof, unnecessarily, on his other foreleg cannon as he looks at her. Then he gives her a smug grin as he says, “You know… the lower levels? We’ve already cleared them out. And, after all of that, and moving things around… well… there’s not really much down there anymore. Except. There's a lot of empty space. Space perfect for me to set up racks and racks and racks and racks of all kinds of salvage. And, actually, with my inventory control system, I could just start making crates. Or, hey, even start salvaging them too, and then just store them so tightly you can’t fit a razor blade between them. And I can just keep on storing things that way, and only fish them out when we actually need them. My inventory control lets me know exactly what I have and where. So that’ll make it easy… and… Also, you know, we’re in a stable designed for about three thousand individuals to live in at maximum. Without the need for expansion… So I could, for instance, take over entire wings of residential sectors and just use those for storage.”

Handy nods along and then comments reasonably, “Actually, if we set it up correctly, you could simply have entire rooms dedicated to individual products. Like having radios in one room.”

“TVs and monitors in another room,” Gearing adds.

“Salvaged components like capacitors and tubes in another room,” Handy continues.

“A room full of armor sets,” Gearing chimes in.

“Hey, have one room for each type of armor… one for light, one for heavy…”

“Good idea! And we can have one dedicated to things like scrap metal!” Gearing says excitedly.

“Don’t forget furniture!” Handy replies.

“Why stop there? Jukeboxes in another room. A whole room just full of jukeboxes waiting to be set up and used!”

Handy grins and nods as he says, “Oh yeah, a whole room of jukeboxes! Hell, hearing about that -I- want a room full of jukeboxes! With enough of them, you could practically have all of the songs ever made just ready and waiting for you to hit play on them!”

Swift’s mane starts frizzing out as her head whips back and forth, watching as the two go on and on and it just never seems to stop. She can’t understand how they could be completely and unabashedly acting like fan fillies, but instead of some famous individual, they’re talking about junk and hoarding things beyond what even a dragon would think was reasonable.

Eventually she hops up into the air, holds her head with her forehooves, and screams in dismay, “Stooooop! Please! Celestia! Make it stop!”

Handy and Gearing look at each other, then start laughing before they turn and start walking away. After they’ve gotten a good distance away, and Swift’s still screaming and having waking nightmare delusions about being chained to a counter and selling a never ending pile of crap, both Handy and Gearing scream back at her, “You coming or you going to stay behind while we go on?”

Swift drops her hooves, sees them hurriedly getting away from her, and screams after them, “Like I’d leave you two boys alone! If I don’t come along you’d probably try to bring back the whole damn warehouse with you!” Then she starts flying after them at top speed.

Gearing laughs as she’s passing them, and then starts circling around them like she’s trying to corral them. “The warehouse? Naaah… we have plenty of storage… But, you know, that office building or whatever that taller one is? Yeah, that’s a possibility… Not only is it added storage, but it’s tall enough that we can see for a distance!”

Handy looks at him as he grins. “Hey, how about we set up shop there instead?!”

Gearing looks at him and nods. “That’s a brilliant idea! Let’s check it out after we mop the floor with the assholes, and I’ll see what we need to do to keep the place from falling down with us in it.”

Handy laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, you’ve already had one building fall on your head, let’s not try that again.”

Swift flutters above them, with her face looking back and forth between them. Her eyes go wider by the second and she eventually holds her cheeks with her forehooves as she says, “What the hell is going on… This can’t be real. This is a nightmare. This is a real fucking nightmare!” She starts tapping her cheeks repeatedly. “That’s it. I must still be asleep. Like. Passed out in the auto doc or something…”

The two look at each other and nod a few times, before turning so they are both looking inside towards her, with Handy on the right, looking back at her over his left shoulder, and Gearing on the left, looking over his right shoulder. Then, as they look back at her, they both give the same kind of crooked grin before they ask, in unison, ““What are you talking about, Swift?””

Swift sees this, and her forehooves drop down limply. She stares at their grinning faces, with her eyes zipping back and forth between the two faster and faster. Her own muzzle starts smirking. But the grin that looks a bit manic keeps appearing and disappearing. But then she slaps both of her forehooves against her cheeks, screams, and starts flying away in a straight line in front of them as she screams in terror about being stuck in a living nightmare.

After she’s taken off, screaming into the distance, both Gearing and Handy start laughing. So much so that they have to slow down their walk as they are laughing so hard. But then Handy reaches out his forehoof towards Gearing and grins. “That’ll teach her for hiding my tools on me.”

Gearing bumps his forhoof against Handy’s as he grins. “Yeah... Really… That’s unforgivable… She does it again, just let me know, and we’ll figure out another way to drive her as crazy as she’s driving us.”

After a bit longer Gearing comments, “I’m not sure she’s coming back…”

Handy laughs some more before he says, “Well… she didn’t bother marking the area, so, if nothing else, she’ll have to come back and follow us in to figure out where the hell it is.”

Gearing snickers as he says, “Assuming she doesn’t just let her pride get in the way, and starts flying high and fast to look for it herself.”

They both start laughing again.

But then the laughter slows down.

Then it outright stops.

“You know my wife…” Handy says quietly.

“Fuck,” Gearing replies.

Without even looking at each other, they both start running with Gearing providing directions.

“We can’t let her get there first without us, she’ll just start trashing shit so we won’t want to bring it back with us!” Handy screams.

“For the jukeboxes!” Gearing yells with a laugh.

Footnote:

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Matrix Quadrant ‘Personal’ Status: Ready.

‘BlueMac.Cred’ Sub Partitioned Successfully

‘BlueMac.Matrix’ Verified

Processing . . . Verifying Matrix Status

Author's Note

A few hints of new things to come here, some tomfoolery there, and a new quick trip is on the way...

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100 Manufacturing Concerns

After Gearing and Handy finally find Swift, and rendezvous with her, the group manages to make good time towards their target. It had taken a while to get a hold of her. Mainly because Swift was ignoring their messages that were getting sent to her as she was too busy screaming about endless trade deals and being covered in nasty rust and having to carry mountains of nasty bloody equipment from where they had killed an ever growing horde of slavers and raiders and then just thrown the equipment to her. Which, wouldn’t be so bad, in her opinion, if she had gotten more of the action than what she’d been getting recently.

Getting shot in the wing by a large caliber bullet and knocked out of the air certainly didn’t contribute to making the situation better. In fact, it made it worse. Because she really wants payback now.

So the three start coming at the industrial complex from a different angle than where they’d actually come from. They had decided to do similar to how they did it when they had left, and made their path from the service station as hard to follow as possible. So, again, Handy ended up being carried by the two for a while. First Swift. But then, again, Gearing. However this time they weren’t strapped together. But, this time, Gearing didn’t fly that far off the ground either. Just the bare minimum so that Handy’s hooves weren’t getting dragged along on the ground nor were they hitting various debris or spindly plants. And, despite being flown around, Handy was far more okay with this. Because while Gearing was far more likely to drop him than he was the day before, if he drops, he’s only going to fall a couple feet. At the worst of it, because of the pathing they pick, the highest they are above the ground below them is ten feet. So it would be enough to hurt if he dropped. But not enough to hurt him bad enough to instantly kill him. And, really, that’s what Handy has been worried about the most. His mental picture of hitting the ground, and his body popping like a balloon full of strawberry glazing jam, is the main thing that’s gotten his heart rate up whenever he’s higher than fifteen feet. But ten, ten is fine. He can handle ten. Even higher if he’s standing on something solid like a platform or a mountain.

Once they had gotten relatively close, the trio had landed and started continuing on hoof. The topography is an absolute mess, with rocks jutting out of the ground, having been exposed by wind and other weather elements after the soil was eroded thanks to the lack of vegetation. But, other parts are bad because of pony made disasters. Both the buildings that had once been there, and the rubble that is now there because of the choices equines made that led to the end of the world.

The best angle that they can figure, takes them through the old subdivision suburbs not far from the industrial complex. There are lots of rubble and frames still standing that they can use as cover as they move in. Plus, it’s not from the same angle that they had approached before. Nor is it in the same line that they had left in. And, they hope, this bit of directional gamesmanship will give them a leg up on the ones that had ambushed them before.

Their plan is simple, switch it around on them where the ambushers become the ambushees.

As Swift is crawling between one pile of rubble that used to be a multi-leveled home, to a wreck of a wagon, she keeps looking around. After getting into position, and looking off into the distance, she frowns as she says, “There’s so many red markers around here it’s hard as hell to tell which way is up sometimes.”

Gearing nods as he’s still hidden behind the low brick wall that still is upright and used to be part of the home’s foundation. “I know. That’s one reason I keep mine off. It’s hard to see what’s going on. And it’s too easy to distract you… Besides that, see anything?”

“See anypony?” Handy asks as he’d run across the street and made himself scarce behind a couple sets of metal I-beams that had fallen off of some billboard long ago.

Swift shakes her head. “Nothing… And those windows up there are making me nervous.”

Gearing pulls out his scope that he had on his rifle, and starts looking through it at the various windows on the tallest building around. “Your biggest concern, usually, is the windows that are missing. Ponies are less likely to smash a window to try and make long range shots. They like setting up positions where there’s already damage so that it’s easier to blend in and take the shots they need to without getting spotted.”

Swift looks over at him and smirks. “Okay… so then… With your expert opinion… and that nice fancy scope of yours… do you see anypony?”

Gearing keeps looking, using both eyes, but only one through the scope as he goes from shattered window to shattered window along the upper floors, and starts working his way down starting from the top of the building. But, thankfully, and for whatever reason, there are far fewer windows than there could have been otherwise. And, because of that, he wonders if the building actually had the benefit of reinforced glass. Because even storms can break windows accidentally, so how that building has any windows at all two hundred years after a bale fire apocalypse is a mystery that Gearing actually does want to solve. If nothing else, he might want to confiscate that glass for his own purposes. “Nope. Not at all.” He lowers the scope and starts putting it away as he says, “No one visible at least… So take what I said with a grain of salt.”

Swift looks around them again and then at him before she huffs. “This crawling shit is really getting annoying. It’s slowing us down. It’s already late morning. I was hoping to be back before noon!”

Gearing looks over at her and waves a hoof towards the buildings. “You still might get your chance. Especially if we go in there, don’t find anyone, and end up leaving empty hoofed because they are a traveling ambush gang… That would suck, actually…”

Swift stares at him and scowls as she says, “Fuck that. They shot at us. If they took off in the middle of the night, then we’re going after them. I don’t want to have to worry about them shooting at us again.”

Gearing shrugs as he asks, “Why? You think they actually are after us intentionally? Like we have a hit on us or something?”

Swift shakes her head. “I really doubt that, especially with Big Daddy’s backing. But, I wouldn't put it past some pissed off fuckers to try and take advantage of us being down here and away from everyone else. Though, how they would have gotten the word down here in time for an ambush to be set up is another question in and of itself.”

“Red Beard’s been a real pain in my ass,” Gearing comments evenly. “Remember, he’s the one that got me blasted in the face by some random mare with a shotgun because she was convinced I was just running around trying to murder everyone.”

Swift looks over at him and scowls. “I swear. I don’t care what anyone says. If that is what this is about, I’m going straight back to Hoofington and beating that fucking buck from one side of Equestria to the other. And if that bitch Usury tries to say anything, I’ll whip her ass too, then toss her to some ex-slaves and see how she likes it!”

Gearing snickers as he asks, “Oh, you know about her too?”

Swift smiles as she says, “It’s kinda hard not to hear about it… When it’s getting around that a certain pegasus with a big ass is being a big ass pain in her side.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “What can I say. They’re familiar with my work.”

Swift shakes her head then laughs as she looks at the partially collapsed warehouse building. “So, how are we going to get closer? No guards along the roofs. Nopony in the taller tower’s windows… But, I just got this gut pain that if we keep this up somepony’s going to spot us eventually… And then shit’s going to get bad if they start shooting at us with those big guns again before we can get close enough to them… I hate guns.”

Gearing looks around and then lets out a sigh. “Swift… how about we just fly straight in.” He points off to the side, where a wall that is still standing is made of cement blocks and not only seems solid, but there are no windows directly around it. “If we head straight there, we can get to the wall, and then work our way around that. With our EFS we’ll have the advantage in close quarters, to a point.” He looks over at Swift and says, “This time, you grab Handy, and I’ll fly as quickly as I can. That way you can dodge and move around. And, if they start shooting at me, we don’t have to worry about Handy getting hit and fucked up.”

Handy looks over at him and grimaces. “The thoughts appreciated, but try not to get shot up any more either. I really don’t want to have that kind of conversation with Sable. She seemed happy. Especially when she told us to piss off so you could get treatment, and I don’t want to have to explain why we’re having to drag you back to the medical bay on the same day you just got out of it.”

Gearing laughs as he rolls over onto his back and just keeps snickering. After a bit he looks over at Handy and grins. “Yeeaah… sorry about that… She wanted to have as much time together as possible before we left, so I didn’t get down to the medical bay until this morning.”

““We know,”” the two reply in such a flat tone that it just makes Gearing laugh even more.

But then Gearing rolls over again and starts getting up. “So, we ready to do this? Fast as we can, to that wall. And, if I get shot down, well, throw some shit their way to try and give me a break from it as I get the hell out of the way. I doubt they have anything that’d seriously do too much damage to me too soon… Even the fifties would need to chew on me for a bit to actually cause anything permanent.”

Swift nods as she keeps looking ahead. “Yeah. Let's do this… Handy, you ready to fly?”

Handy laughs as he rolls over, gets his sledge hammer in his hooves, and smiles at her. “Not really, but let’s do this anyway.”

As Gearing is watching, Swift gets away from the wreck, hops up in the air, and flips over backward, before kicking off the wreck and zipping over to Handy. She barely pauses, only just enough to be perceptible, before grabbing Handy and taking off with him. And as soon as they turn to start heading towards the side of the warehouse, Gearing gets up and starts barreling towards the rally point as quickly as he can as well. He’d probably be able to fly a good distance there. But, in fact, the fast mode of transportation for him now is to run, jump, and fly a bit, as he goes in a straight line. His wings are arguably the best thing for these situations, as they can lift him up and over a variety of ruble that's scattered over the way as he makes his straight line for the building. But, the armor he’s wearing was not designed for a pegasi. So there are a few problems with it restricting movement. Even with armor generally being semi adaptive to different bearers, for him it’s not really enough. And then, also, there is the problem with him not being all that fast anyway. So, he runs across the ground, jumping up and off the ground to propel him faster, as he flaps his wings to not only push him forward, but to lift him up and over all of the broken cement, rebar, and, in one case, a wagon that had somehow managed to be embedded into a house somewhere along the line in the last two hundred years.

And as Gearing is making his way towards the building, he keeps looking at the windows along the entire length of the warehouse. Along with quick jets up to the building in the distance that’s taller and acts as an improvised guard tower. What he’s looking for is movement. What he’s hoping not to see is muzzle flashes. And in a lot of places in his mind he plays a whole montage of different scenes for things that could go wrong with him getting shot. Or Swift and Handy, or, in the best of the best, all three of them getting shot up by entire swarms of high caliber ammunition. Even one of the annihilators from the core shows up to lend its role to his nightmare and shows how it can take all three of them out at once without even slowing down.

But, despite his near panic inducing thoughts about what might happen, they manage to get across the entire open area and up to the wall.

Handy, to his credit, starts carefully looking around and swaying side to side as he tries to get a bead on the location of the red bars he’s looking at. With his sledgehammer ready. And, as Gearing is looking at him, he can tell that Handy is doing the math on figuring out if he can simply just bash through the wall and get at whoever is on the other side. Which, now that Gearing is up close, he can’t help but think he might have a very good plan in the works.

But before he can say anything, Swift looks over at him and asks, “So, we made it, yay.” She pants a couple times before striking at the air a few times in front of herself. “Now what? Whose flanks do we kick first?”

Handy comments, “There’s definitely quite a few red bars inside the warehouse. And, judging by the movements, I’m not sure if they are simply more damn bugs, or if it's some of those psychos with autocannons.”

“LMGs,” Gearing corrects flatly.

Handy looks over at him and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“LMG… they shot at us with LMGs, not autocannons.”

Handy looks between the two before asking. “The hell is the difference?”

Gearing laughs and points over towards Swift, “Mostly? Caliber… if Swift had been hit by a 20mm caliber autocannon, it probably would have taken her wing off entirely. That's not the kind of weapon one gets shot with and there’s enough of the pony left to have an open casket.”

Swift looks over at Gearing, and visibly cringes. “Are you serious, Gearing?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah, that much hot metal coming at you at that speed has a tendency to make holes that don’t close. They just keep getting bigger until they’re not so much a pony, but a couple pieces of a bloody jigsaw puzzle.”

Swift scrunches her muzzle up as she says, “Eww Gearing, that’s gross.”

Gearing points at Handy before he says, “An LMG also sucks… Light machine gun… but, in that case, it’s only a fifty caliber round coming at you, and while it might take your limb off, it still could be survivable… unless they get a torso hit in your chest cavity…. Or a head shot… I mean, really, anywhere except your limbs you're not going to have a bad day, you’re just going to have your last day on the job.”

Handy looks at him for a moment, then slowly rotates his head to look at Swift. “Great. So. New plan. Don’t get shot. At all. I happen to like my limbs right where they are. Can we do that? That sounds like a really good idea to me.”

Swift starts laughing as she shrugs. “How about we go inside and ask them that?”

Gearing points off to the side as he says, “Well, over there where the building had collapsed a bit, there’s an okay sized hole in the wall. I think we can squeeze in through there.”

Handy points up at a window. “Why not just go in through there?”

Swift frowns as she says, “Because we don’t really know the layout, and if we fly up there to check, or even go in, we might look in to see a whole army sitting down for lunch and end up with a hail of bullets getting thrown at us… again.” She stomps her hooves. “I just really hate guns!”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah, relatedly,” he looks over to Swift and narrows his eyes, as he continues, “could ya keep it down a bit, maybe? Right now we have the element of surprise, but, once that’s gone, we’re going to be more likely to get wrecked and get ambushed ourselves… Again.”

Swift scowls at him but then mutters, “Fine, but after the fighting starts there’s going to be a lot of screaming. At them. Because they’re assholes. And deserve it.”

Handy chuckles as he looks down towards where Gearing had pointed to. “Fair enough… So, shall we?”

Gearing looks at Swift, who simply waves it off, and then Gearing quietly trots over to the hole in the wall. He peeks around the crumbling edge of the walls to see inside, and sees a rather small room. But, considering it’s only got the one door, that could also be an advantage for them. He looks up in the hole, and sees that this section of the warehouse actually has supports for the second floor. And that this room, whatever it is, is only composed of the first floor section, so they’ll be inside and surrounded on all sides by walls.

Good, in his opinion, because it means they won’t have anything sprung on them as soon as they enter, unless it’s from the door, and if that’s the case the bandits can only come in at them from the one angle, while the trio still have the capability of exiting back out through the hole here if the need arises.

Gearing looks over at Swift and Handy, and nods before he steps toward the hole. But, instead of just clamoring in and down the rubble, he takes flight just enough to land on the tiles without disturbing the rubble from the partially collapsed wall. A moment later Swift comes in with Handy, and sets him down just past the rubble pile before fluttering around the room and seeing what’s to be seen.

Handy pulls out his pneumatic sledge and gets ready to smash anything that might present itself as he asks quietly, “What is this place? Kinda looks like a bathroom, but not really?”

Gearing points off towards the side, to their far right and away from the door past a very thin divider. “It’s a communal shower. Probably used by the folks that worked here before they went home. Several types of industrial manufacturing had this kind of set up. They didn’t want their ponies leaving looking filthy, it was bad PR… So I’m sure it had more to do with that than it did with quality of life and working conditions.”

Handy frowns as he walks over, looks around the divider, and sees the lines of shower heads sticking out of the wall all the way around, to the back wall, and back towards the other side towards him. “Geeze… you’d almost expect them to have an automatic wash like for wagons that ponies would have to stand on a conveyor belt before leaving.”

Swift instantly starts laughing, but holds her muzzle as Handy looks at her.

Gearing looks at her, raises an eyebrow, but then starts talking before looking back at Handy, “A couple places tried that actually. Too many accidents too quickly…” He taps on his head as he says, “The rollers used to clean a wagon are all fine and dandy… but don’t work so well with pony manes and tails… Were more than a few lawsuits by some quite pissed off mares that’d lost their manes to the cheap tactics.”

Handy cringes as he shakes his head. “Damn… the more I hear about some of these assholes, the more how the world ended up the way it is makes sense.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Make no mistake… The problems were caused mainly by a choice few… ones in power… Everything else was just the logical conclusion of their incompetence and actively fucking everyone else over.”

Gearing reaches for the door, and gives it a gentle pull. And, to his amazement, the door swings open rather easily. It barely makes a sound as he pulls it further and further open. After getting it nearly half way open, he leans to the side, and starts looking out as far as he can see, and the more walls and other non threatening things he sees the more he opens the door and dares to expose more of himself. After a bit, he goes ahead and sticks his head out quickly, propping the door open with a hind hoof, as he quickly sweeps side to side.

Gearing pulls out Butter Churn’s 10mm pistol and carefully puts a silencer on it. Instead of it being one of the off the shelf mass produced during the war items, it’s a recently made makeshift one. It isn’t pretty, and bigger than a normal one would be, but it’ll do the job of suppressing the noise well enough for now. The pistol wouldn't fit into its holster with the noise suppressor attached, but he still wants to try and do this as quietly as he can, for as long as he can. After all, once things get loud, he’s got a fully loaded auto shotgun that is just begging to ring in the new year early.

Gearing holds the door open and lets Swift and Handy come out with him before he hurries down one side of the hallway, to a quick dead end, then comes back towards them. As he’s passing he nods and motions for them to go to their right as the end of the hallway had a trio of rooms but were devoid of anything, or anyone, of interest. They continue down the hall, going as slow and steady and quiet as they can. This warehouse, unlike the one they had dealt with when they got shot down, is far more intact. And because of that, it becomes painfully obvious that noise travels further. And, an added problem, without as many holes in it, there’s not a lot of outside noise coming in to help muffle anything they create. So they have to be careful with what they are doing lest they let the entire area know that they are there.

And, Gearing can’t help but find it annoying, the ones in question are not as noisy as he had run into at the police station, or even in that entire office complex that Cooky had taken up residence in. Or, at least, they aren’t at this time of day. He’s not sure if it’s because they are asleep, are not even here, or if they just have that kinda noise discipline among them at all times.

Of all of the options, that last one possibility worries him the most. Because that means their organizational skills are above par and that always makes Gearing have to second guess what he’s going to be doing.

Gearing has already got a pretty good mental map of the warehouse based on their entry point, and what he had seen from the air. At least, in the terms of relative positioning. But, one thing that he can’t help enjoying about his PipBuck, is the way it is actively mapping the area as they are passing through the hallway towards a more open area. And, once they get to the end of this hallway, where offices start popping up on the right side as the left side just seems to fade away, Gearing slowly takes in the open office floor plan. All of the desks and chairs and computer equipment, and all of the other amenities that a normal office space would take up. However, on the left side, where the wall had abruptly opened up, Gearing can see a segment on the floor with a variety of markings. And it doesn't take long for him to realize that these are crowd control markings so that ponies coming in from the working floor can head straight to the showers and leave afterwards. With similar markings being in front of the offices that are on the right. Gearing stretches up just a bit, looking around, and listening closely, as he looks over at the offices on the right side. And, a sneer crosses his muzzle as he sees that they are all for members of management. So, like in a lot of situations, they are separating themselves from everyone else. But, at the same time, they are making the vast majority of their workforce march back and forth in front of them all day.

The little blue pegasus in his head grumps as he says, ‘This is really fucked… I get having an office in the manufacturing area, above everything, so you can actually keep an eye on things, but this is nothing more than trying to flaunt your own influence and status…’

‘Hell they could even save time and resources by having the showers in another location, and letting the ponies clock in and clock out on the way to work, showering when needed,’ the golden pegasus adds.

Gearing mentally replies. Yeah, but this way, they can make sure no one manages to escape the building looking as dirty as they’d be from working here… Look at the floor. I can still see the marks on half of the walking path where ponies were walking in here filthy beyond belief… and you know they cleaned this regularly, but that tile’s still stained…

Gearing turns and starts heading down the path where the ponies had come from so filthy back during the war. He motions for Swift and Handy to follow as he looks back at them and explains his reasoning, “These offices probably aren’t really useful to them for living quarters when they have that whole multi floor building to house up in. So let’s check the work floor, and take care of anyone here. If we’re lucky we’ll find the fuckers that shot at us last night.”

Handy nods and quickly follows behind him with his pneumatic sledge at the ready as he comments, “I’m very much interested in finding those assholes.”

Swift flutters over, getting above them, as she asks, “Can we go over to that collapsed bit we saw before? Where the shots had come from? They might be dumb enough to stay in the same area.”

Gearing bobs his head around but then nods. “It’s in the same building, we can make a point of heading that way. We’ll just have to make sure to keep whatever we do quiet. I’m not sure how much equipment is still left in here that’ll mask our approach.”

And the answer to that question is delivered with a ribbon tied to it the very second he pushes open one of the double doors that the ponies working here had marched back and forth through all day during the war.

Past the door, and as far as the eye can see, and beyond, was a variety of industrial equipment that Gearing could only guess at. Metal working, mostly, it seemed. And judging by how everything had been set up, they did everything inside of this warehouse. In the distance he can see what looks like the top portion of a model of blast furnace that he’s aware of. But the equipment closer to them looks like it was for more finer work. And, as they start walking in, Gearing can’t help but frown as he sees that the centuries of neglect and non use did nothing to get rid of the soot that is in here. There’s coal soot all over the place. It coats the floor so thick he’d thought it was some kind of crumbling tile or rubber mats. And among it all there are bits of metal fragments where things had been milled and cut down. There are rows and rows of equipment, but not necessarily put into nice neat grids. Instead they seem to be packed in as tightly as they can possibly imagine. And, in a couple instances, Gearing can see where some pieces of equipment were installed in between other pieces of equipment. Like they just kept expanding and adding to the work output of the building but didn’t want to actually expand out of the building.

The little blue pegasus in his head looks around casually as he ponders, ‘I wonder how much the bribes to the inspectors were to keep this place open… The violations just within line of sight from here should have closed the place for a year…’

The little golden pegasus comments, ‘Not as much as you’d expect. A lot of shit got overlooked ‘for the good of the war effort’.’

Gearing sighs as he stops long enough to look at a few red dots on his EFS for a moment before turning it back off. He looks back at Swift and Handy before motioning to the far side, in the direction where the ceiling had collapsed and he can actually see daylight pouring in from that way. “Let’s stick to the edge, and head that way. Keep an eye out, and warn me if you see anything. This crap is so tightly packed I don’t want to try crossing it without making sure the perimeter is at least somewhat safe too… Something tells me the machines kind of turn into a maze pretty quickly in there.” He nods towards the center of the warehouse area where the ceiling is still intact but has many supports and cables and chains dropping down from above that give evidence for all of the machines that are out of their line of sight.

Swift and Handy nod, then turn down the way Gearing does and follows him. Although, after only a few minutes, he suddenly stops, and looks to the side, then backs up. Swift flies up in the air quickly, looks in the direction he is pointing, then lands next to Handy and Gearing again. She looks between them as she asks, “Sooo you two up for a bit of ‘look over there!’ hmmm?”

Handy looks at her and frowns as he asks, “What makes you think they won’t just shoot you on sight this time?”

Swift grins. “I didn’t see any guns, only melee weapons, and, even if they do have them, if you’re quick enough, I won’t have to worry about it.”

Gearing looks at them and asks, “Huh? ‘Look over there’? What’s that?”

Handy looks at him and smirks as he says, “Follow me, and when she gives the signal, just pounce… It’s pretty straightforward and…” He smacks a hoof over his face. “It works… far more than it has any right to… honestly…”

The little blue and little gold pegasi in Gearing’s head look at each other, shrug in unison, and then motion towards Handy as they’re curious how this will play out.

* * *

It took Swift a bit of finagling to get where she wanted to be, and make sure the other two were where they wanted, and needed, to be. She can’t help smiling as, she knows, this is more for fun, and a bit of revenge, than it is for any form of actually efficient way of taking out these problem ponies.

And, she’s extra happy because even Handy was able to confirm that, yes indeed, they were all as red as blood and they both will happily make them redder. But, Swift’s extra happy because she won’t have to listen to Handy fret about it later and being a good or bad decision.

She’d seen them, and they look about like any other raider that she’d seen previously. But, the thieving murdering kind, not necessarily the cannibalistic kind. So that’s a plus in her opinion.

Once she confirms Handy and Gearing are where she wants them, She flies around the equipment, up and over it, and over towards the ponies that seem to be sorting through a few crates and pulling things out of the equipment. She comes down quickly, starts screaming like she’s being chased by an ursa major, and ‘accidentally’ hits one of the pieces of equipment before she flops in the air and haphazardly lands not far from the ponies that have their hooves full of tools.

All of them jump up, grab their various tools, a few of which actually grab different ones that are obviously dual purpose weapons, and stare at her as they try to figure out what’s going on.

The mare closest to her lifts up a crowbar, that has had a blade welded onto the back side of it to also function as an ax, and demands. “The hell are you?!”

Swift gets to her hooves and starts waving behind them, opposite the direction she’d come from. “They’re coming! They’re over there!”

Swift points behind them and towards the area where she had been earlier with Handy and Gearing.

One of them tilts their head just enough to look behind themselves, obviously more than a little suspicious of this and being more than a little justified in being so. “Who’s coming? What?”

Another blatantly looks back, as the others start getting closer to Swift. “Bullshit, I don’t see nopony.”

Swift backs up as she keeps flailing her forehooves in the same direction. “You really need to look that way! They’re going to be here any second!”

The one with the ax crowbar looks at her as she asks, “How stupid do you think we are?” She waves the crowbar at her as she says, “You’re not one of us. We don’t know you. You’re not even dressed like any of us. And, you’re way too clean to have spent more than a few minutes in here.”

One of the bucks coming up from the right side grins. “So, who the hell are you and why are you in our turf?”

One of the other mares pushes her mane, adorned with various teeth that look equine in nature, out of her face before she asks, “What’s a pegasus doing in here? Didn’t we shoot down a couple yesterday? Haven't they learned their lessons yet?”

The mare with the crowbar sways it side to side as she says, “Lets lop off her wings, and set them up on a flagpole outside, maybe then they’ll get the message…”

The others line up, hemming Swift in more as they grin at her.

Swift points behind them again as she gives them a sheepish grin. “You guys really should listen to somepony when somepony tries to warn you… They’ll get you…”

The buck on the far left rolls his eyes before reaching on his foreleg and pulling out a large knife from its sheath after he says, “That’s it, I’m cutting her tongue…”

They get a couple more steps before the buck on the right and the mare with the crowbar suddenly fall to the ground.

The remaining four look over, trying to figure out what they tripped on, only for another on the left to drop, and the one on the right join the first as a sledge hammer comes down on their head as well. The remaining two spin around, getting side to side as they ready their weapons, with the one actually pulling out a pistol from a holster that was on their side.

The one with the melee weapon eeps out, “There really was someone there!”

She gets dropped with a round from Gearing’s pistol as he’s walking towards them.

The one with the pistol, however, gets stopped before she manages to get her pistol out of its holster. By Swift getting her into a hold from behind and twisting her legs unnaturally out from under her as she bends the mare’s neck to look up at her. Swift grins at her as she says, “I tried to warn ya, you know… They're heeeereeeee.” Then she hits her in the face with her hoof. Then again. Then a few more times. And, just for good measure, and after the mare is already on the ground and unconscious, she gives her a final smack with her power hoof. Which thoroughly cracks her skull and makes sure the red marker on her EFS disappears before she looks up at Gearing and Handy who have joined her.

Gearing looks over at Handy and frowns. “That’s your ‘hey, look over there!’ bit? Really?”

Handy holds a hoof over his face as he moans. “Yeaaaah… it is…”

Gearing slowly starts reloading his pistol as he looks around. “How… How did that work so well? It shouldn’t have worked so well… This makes no sense!”

Handy removes his hoof from his face and waves it at Gearing. “That’s what I keep saying! Out of all the times we’ve done it, I think only one time it didn’t really work. And that’s because somepony spotted me before I could hit them in the back of the head!”

Swift wipes her hoof off onto the clothes of the dead mare at her feet as she smiles at them. “Hey… if it’s not broken, why fix it?”

Gearing waves at her with a hoof of his own. “It is broken. Reality is broken. That shouldn't have worked!”

Swift giggles as she starts hovering a bit. “Oh, cry about it some more, why don’t you?”

Gearing lets out a sigh before he starts looking over the ponies around them. He stoops down and checks on them as he tries to figure out where they fit into this whole situation. “I think these guys were just in here grabbing some scrap to trade. Their clothes and equipment isn’t ‘being ready for a fight’ level. And the tools they are using… well..” He grabs the crowbar and looks at it, but frowns before he drops it back onto the mare’s body. “Calling them tools would be an insult to tools… looks more like crappy weapons.”

Handy nods as he looks them over, and then at the crate of things they had taken out. “Yeah, and it doesn't look like they know what the hell they are doing… They’re just ripping the guts out of these machines but doing it so fucked up a good portion of it isn’t worth much more than scrap…”

Swift looks them over before she asks quietly, “You think they’re just prospectors?”

Handy shakes his head. “Nah… they definitely meant to kill us on sight… EFS proved that… and they have that ‘I’d shank my own mother for a bottle of whiskey’ look to them that raiders and bandits always have…”

Gearing nods as he looks them over. “More like they’re just trying to get some extra cash for whatever it is they want… or… Someone has them in here working on this in between convoy attacks…” Gearing walks over, and starts checking on the one with the pistol holster. He pulls it out and looks it over before setting it right back onto the original owner. “That’s just thirty-eight…” He turns and starts heading back towards the path that Handy and him took in while Swift kept them distracted. “Let's move on to the back area and see if we can catch those assholes with the LMG before they get any bright ideas to use it.”

Handy and Swift quickly match pace with them. As much as any of them might like to turn out these dead ponies’ pockets, they have better things to do at the moment. And, there will be plenty of time to go snooping for loot after everything is done and over with.

Through the rest of the warehouse Gearing intentionally keeps zipping around the equipment while keeping an ear out for anyone else walking around. He doubts the others that he’s targeting would have any reason to try and walk quietly. But, and one thing he notes, the others were working without actually making a lot of noise themselves. And that is something that he can’t keep out of his mind as they are traveling along the length of the main work area as they are heading for the collapsed portion of the roof.

It doesn’t take them long to get there, especially with no unexpected surprises showing up to cause problems for them. Nor do they find anyone else that needs to be dealt with before pursuing their targets. And in short order they step into the relatively better lit area where the ceiling is just missing. Some of it had caved in on itself, but a good portion had fallen outwards and away from the building. Gearing takes a few mental measurements of the area before confirming that the area where the shots had come from isn’t far away. He lets the others know, although they were pretty sure of it themselves, and Gearing heads over to where some kind of separate office or walled off area is that’s still standing despite a good portion of the ceiling coming down on top of it.

Swift, not liking how long this is taking already, flies up and starts looking over the area carefully, using the various rubble as cover as she tries to get a peek further on. Then, after spotting an open area, she hovers looking quite annoyed as she motions for Gearing and Handy to come around and join her.

They both trot around at a relatively fast pace, trying to be quiet but not doing a great job of it considering all of the rubble in the area, and turn around the point where the dividing wall is standing. But, the area beyond the partition has fallen along with the ceiling. They start looking around at the ground, as they both frown as well.

The area that they are looking at has had a few areas cleaned out a bit. Not much. Just enough for a few individuals to stand around without having to worry about breaking an ankle on unsteady rubble. There’s even a radio off to the side, and a few chairs. They can even see where someone has left a pair of binoculars on an old drum that’s apparently being used as some sort of end table. But, there’s no one in sight.

Gearing picks up one of the brass casings off the ground and gives it a discerning eye. He gives it a sniff, then nods as he sets it back on the ground .”Yeah… this is the spot… and, judging by the amount of casings around here, we weren’t the only ones they were shooting at…”

Handy looks around as he scowls. “So, why, we just missed them or something? They on break?”

Swift shrugs as she says, “Well, last time through here we were coming through in the evening. Maybe they wait until night so they can ambush anyone coming by easier and not have to worry about being shot as much.”

Handy looks around, then smirks as he points at the ground. “Hey, Gearing… take a look…”

Gearing tilts his head, then walks over to see what Handy is pointing at. And then he can’t help but smile himself.

In the cleared out area, that is mostly bare concrete, there are a few widely spaced out pockmarks. One of which is a bit bloody and there’s still somepony’s fur embedded in the concrete. And, not far away, there’s a couple dribbles. All of which are relatively fresh, but only by so many hours. Less than a day for sure. Gearing looks it over and nods before he chuckles quietly, “I’ll be damned, one of the pellets must have actually hit one of them… What’re the odds of that?”

Swift looks over and smiles as she sees the evidence that someone on this side obviously didn’t have the best of days yesterday either. “Well, serves them right…” She looks up at the other two. “Think this is why they took off? Because they were scared of getting shot again?”

Gearing shakes his head and points at the large metal drum. “Not likely. They still have a few things here. Nothing serious. But they seem to like the spot.”

Handy looks up and frowns as he says, “You know, I bet they have a few spots throughout the warehouse. So they aren’t always shooting from the same spot, know what I mean?”

Gearing nods as he looks around again. “It’s what I’d do… Especially if one of my hidey-holes was blown enough that I’d taken direct fire.”

Swift dangles her legs as she sighs. “So we have to track them down now? Because they moved around?”

Gearing shrugs. “We were planning on tracking them down anyway… Nothing’s changed, just when the party gets started…”

Swift bobs her head around before she waves away from them. “Okay, well, come on, let's go. I saw another area that's a bit open. And I bet we can make some progress that way. And the sooner we check out the whole surrounding area we can move into the middle of the warehouse.”

“And then on to the tall building after finishing this one,” Handy agrees.

Gearing waves for Swift to lead the way, and she does. Gearing does the friendly thing and stays down with Handy as Swift is flying around and looking into the gloom of the warehouse above. And after they scramble out of the ambusher’s nest, they get into the main area again, and follow Swift around to the side.

After they get a bit further, the area opens up more with line after line of access doors on their left taking up most of the wall that they can see. A few of the doors are rather massive at that and are obviously far more than just loading docks. All of them are closed though, for one reason or another, and then there’s a break in the machinery as they see stacks of shipping containers taking up more and more space where manufacturing machines were thought to be.

Swift flies over to them quickly, and zips around, looking at the stacks of various colored metal boxes, before coming back to Handy and Gearing. “I don’t know what’s up with all of those boxes. Kinda weird they brought them inside instead of, you know, had them outside, right?”

Gearing looks them over then, tilts his head. After thinking about it for a few moments he shrugs. “You know, these doors are big enough to have cranes and other vehicles just drive right in. In a lot of places, they take materials out through the loading docks, and those go in the back of shipping containers on trucks or the like. But if they have them in here… The only reason I can think of them doing that is either because of security reasons, like for government contracts… oooor… because they were doing shit that they really shouldn’t be doing, and have the containers in here to avoid too many folks having eyes on the operation… And, honestly, knowing what I know about Equestria at the time… if you told me the answer was ‘both’ I wouldn't doubt it in the least… Especially with the fuckwads that must have been running this place…” He sits down and points back towards the machinery. “I mean how cheap can you get?! Not even being lazy, outright cheap… Yeah, this place probably generated a lot of dust and smoke and metal fragments, but that’s not a reason to not clean it up. Hell, their equipment probably had a high failure rate specifically because there was so much dust and dirt being generated. And with it not being cleaned up, all that did was make it where there’s more and more shit to be kicked up into the air again. It was a circular spiral of ineptitude that was just asking for troubles! Hell, if the war hadn’t brought everything to a screeching halt, I bet this place would have collapsed on its own, and then the rubble would burn, on its own, just because of the way it was being run!” Gearing bristles as he stares at it and his eyes seem to nearly pop out of his head.

Handy walks over next to him. Sets his sledge hammer down, head side down with the handle up in the air, before he gently pats Gearing on the shoulder. “There, there… I understand…”

Swift flutters over by them as she folds her forelegs in front of herself and stares at Gearing. “Been holding that in this whole time, haven’t you?”

Gearing waves a forehoof at the machines, then turns his hoof around to look at the bottom, before showing how dirty and black it is to Swift. “Look at it! Just look at it! Lookit!”

Handy pats Gearing shoulders again. “Yeah… it’s physically painful for me too, Gearing.”

Swift rolls her eyes before she looks at her own hooves, then she gives a blatant snort of disgust as her muzzle warps. “Okay… I was going to say you were overreacting… but… making ponies work in these kinds of conditions is just horrible…”

Gearing waves his dirty hoof at the machines even more. “And it would have been worse back then, because the dust would have been constantly getting kicked up by folks walking through it!” He waves his hoof frantically. “After we take care of these fucks, I wanna clean this place up. Just on principle!”

Handy and Swift snicker before they turn and start looking around.

Handy waves over towards the shipping containers as he asks, “Well, wanna walk over there? We should be able to have some good coverage using those. Plus we’ll be able to be away from the machines and it’ll be easier to look around?”

Gearing lets out a groan but then nods. “Yeah, let’s get out of here… I’ve already got a date with the decontamination shower again, and I feel like I need to sit and cry under the shower heads for a couple hours after this shit…”

Handy and Swift look at each other, then laugh before Handy grabs his sledge and follows after Swift.

The group heads towards the shipping containers, and they all have a lot of curiosity about what might be in them. Not just about what they might have held at one point in the past, but what they might have in them currently still. Most of them look sealed up and ready to be shipped. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t already been looted for all their worth.

The little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head points at the side of one of the shipping containers. ‘Hey, look. You see that logo?’

The little blue pegasus nods as he flutters around and looks it over. ‘Four Star? The transportation company?’

Gearing looks around and notices that several of the shipping containers have the same logo for the Manehattan based company. There are others too. Some don’t even have any logos on them. But the Four Star logo draws most of his attention. Yeah, I remember those folks. Whole thing seemed a bit fishy to me. There had been rumors that there were zebra sympathizers within a few organizations, including Four Star. I know of at least one active investigation into them at the time, but there had never been anything concrete to work with. They were either really good at hiding things, or there wasn’t anything to be found. Although, their typical shipping goods were so innocuous that they shouldn’t have needed to be hidden like this. So I don’t know why this company would have done so, if they didn’t care about who it was going to that is.

The little golden pegasus chimes in, ‘I still think it’s weird for a company that’s supposed to have connections to zebra lands to be named ‘Four Star’. Like the connotations about that from the zebra’s perspective would be no joke. Those particular four stars. Death. Destruction. Misery. So that’s a weird coincidence.’

Gearing actually snorts as he half laughs. Yeah. I bet ponies would find it a riot if they actually knew as much about it as I do.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head adds, ‘Yeah. So, either way, let's make a point of coming back through here and seeing what, if anything, are in these shipping containers. Could be useful in and of themselves if nothing else.’

Definitely, Gearing mentally replies as he continues on.

The group stays on the side of the containers facing the wall of bay doors along the length of the building. There are many paths in between the shipping containers wide enough for ponies to travel down. But they didn’t want to end up trapped in them as once you start down one of those paths, there’s nowhere to go but forward for quite a while. And since they are behind enemy lines, so to speak, they don’t want to take that kind of risk of being in a lengthy killzone.

Once they get to the end of the shipping containers, where they start seeing the manufacturing machines pick up again, some of the shipping containers don’t look so neatly stacked. In fact, a few of them look like they had gotten knocked over and are laying in a blocky heap on the far side. A few of which had managed to either burst open on some manufacturing equipment that was too sturdy to be crushed, or crushing machines that weren’t so sturdy.

They look on towards the end, and notice how much closer the far end of the warehouse is now. Only a couple more minutes away. And they begin debating on just starting to fly around since the raiders seem to be so spread out it could take forever to find all of them.

Swift hovers over one of the shipping containers that are off kilter and laying on a piece of machinery as she looks at Handy and Gearing. “You know, if I just started zipping around, I bet I could spot them and we could figure out how to deal with them after that?”

Handy and Gearing walk towards her as Gearing comments. “At that point it’d just be faster for us to split up and do the same thing. But, I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

Handy nods as he says, “Yeah, let’s not split up, I don’t want to have to worry about somepony needing help and not being able to get it because we’re spread too thin.”

Swift lets out a sigh as she looks around. “Well, shit… it’s hard to figure out what’s where, there’s just soooo many red bars in here. And I’m sure most of them are just freaking bugs. So how are we going to deal with it?”

Gearing keeps walking up to the shipping container under her as he calls up to her, “Well, let’s just finish this circular route, there can’t be that many mo-”

Gearing’s voice is cut off as a whirring noise echoes out at the same time the screeching sounds of metal on metal greets their ears. Sparks come from the side of the shipping container as bullets rip through the sheet metal and pour back and forth in the general direction of Gearing and Handy. Multiple bullets hit both of them, with the majority of the ones that hit Gearing scraping off of his armor plates, and ripping through the cloth bags that he’d had. Handy has the misfortune of being in the direct line of the opening salvo, and then getting hit by a few more as it’s crossing back towards him. His armor sparks and gives protest as it does its best to protect him. Most of his equipment gets riddled with multiple rounds before he can even react.

It only takes a fraction of a second before the air is filled with scattered crystals, fragments of metal, and blooms of fresh blood.

Footnote:

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Matrix Quadrant ‘Personal’ Status: Ready.

‘BlueMac.Cred’ Sub Partitioned Successfully

‘BlueMac.Matrix’ Verified

Author's Note

Surprise party getting kicked off for everyone. But things aren't really going the way anyone had expected or hoped, on either side of the conflicts.

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101 Malpractice

Gearing, while still getting hit by hot bullets himself, jumps over, grabs Handy, and throws him away from the obvious kill zone before rolling and tumbling away from the stream of bullets too. Pieces of his wings go flying from the various bullet impacts, and his little maneuver that was a bit rough on already injured pieces of crystal. Gearing completes the maneuver by leaping back up onto his hooves, pulls out the prototype shotgun, and jumps over to the shipping container where the bullets just keep pouring out of and through the sheet metal on one side. He sees a spot where multiple bullets had penetrated in a rather tight cluster, and jams his shotgun’s barrel right into the hole they’d created. It screams a bit as while some of the metal has a bunch of burr covered holes in it, it is still relatively thick sheet metal. And once the barrel end is inside, he begins unleashing into the enclosed space of the shipping container with the over-sized pellets that come flying out of the shotgun’s muzzle at a murderous velocity.

And, unfortunately for the ponies inside of the shipping container, the large ball bearings being dumped into the space with them are a perfect design to bounce around inside of the container, without losing much velocity in the process. After just a few seconds of firing, the swarm of pellets bouncing around inside of the shipping container are so thick that it could be arguably compared to a blast from a Claymore mine.

And, with that, the gun firing through the sheet metal is silenced as those red bars on Swift’s EFS disappear.

Swift, who had been up in the air at the start of the attack, was close enough to see the full horror that was unleashed on Handy in excruciating detail. And as Gearing had moved to fight back at their ambushers, she’d zipped down, grabbed Handy from where Gearing had tossed him, and dragged him to the side behind a piece of machinery that was mostly buried in rubble. She wasn’t going to risk putting him near another shipping container if they had weapons that could shoot right through them from the relative safety of being inside of them. And as she’s setting Handy down, and noticing the blood all over him, she screams out in a panicked voice that she just wasn’t aware of being able to produce, “Gearing!!!”

Having eliminated their attackers, Gearing yanks his weapon back out and bounds over to join Swift and Handy, and finds Handy covered in blood. He runs over to him, slides next to him, and starts opening his bags to pull out a healing potion. He starts looking through them, then pulls up his PipBuck to check his current inventory before he starts screaming. “Fuck! They broke my healing potion bulbs too!” He starts yanking off Handy’s bags, and actually pulls it straight off of Handy’s body by ripping the already damaged bags. But, again, the contents have been shot up rather extensively and Gearing can see the purple liquid dripping out along the ground and leaving a trail all the way back to where Handy had been shot, just like his blood trail.

Gearing starts pulling Handy’s equipment off rather roughly as he screams, “Swift. Healing potions. Now!”

Swift nods rapidly and starts looking through her bags. And as Gearing is violently removing Handy’s armor, Swift panics more and more. She even grabs her bag, turns it upside down, and dumps it onto the ground. “Where the fuck are they?!”

Gearing looks at her and asks, “Were you shot too?! Don’t lie to me!”

Swift quickly pat herself down and shakes her head. “No, this is all his! I don’t know where my healing potions are! I should have-” She stops, and her eyes go wide. “Oh god! I set them on my desk to put in my bag, but forgot them!” She starts slapping herself. “I fucking forgot them!”

Gearing grabs Handy’s bag, and holds it over Handy’s muzzle. And, it’s not hard to get what little fluid is coming out of the bag into Handy as Handy’s mouth is still left open mid scream. Gearing groans as the various bits and pieces fall down. “Sorry, Handy. The auto doc can get the glass out but this is all we have at the moment!” He even pulls off his own saddle bag, and starts scraping out the small bits of healing potion he can from the inside of his bag. Even twisting the cloth to try and coax out some more that had soaked into it in the process. But, he knows, this isn’t going to be enough. Not by a long shot. Even a couple healing potions probably wouldn’t be enough for what Handy’s just had unleashed on him. At best this is just giving them more time, and he knows it.

Handy needs an auto doc. And Gearing knows that too. But getting him there is going to be the problem. Especially getting him there in time, considering the damage that Gearing is currently seeing all over Handy’s body.

Gearing pulls out cloth he’d brought with him for padding purposes, and crams a ball of cloth into one bleeding hole in Handy’s abdomen. He holds it there, grabs Swift’s forehoof, and yanks her over, putting her hoof right where his is by replacing it and pushing down as he demands, “Right here, put pressure right here. And here!” He unceremoniously rips off one of the wrappings Swift has around her forelegs, and slaps the wad of cloth onto Handy’s neck, and uses one of Swift’s wings to hold it in place. The shock is so overwhelming for Swift as she watches this nightmare play out before her eyes that she simply complies without a word as she’s more than a little freaked out at the moment.

Gearing flicks out one of his small hidden blades into a deft catch of a wingtip as he says, “We have to slow the bleeding in his abdomen while I get these other wounds in check.” He starts slicing open Handy’s newish mechanic’s jumpsuit as he groans, “I hope I’m wrong, please don’t be the liver…”

Gearing has a stress induced sense of time dilation as he feverishly works to save Handy’s life. In this way his mind pseudo wanders from the present as he starts thinking about his weird string of training. His various combat experiences. His medical training. Not enough to get him a medical license anywhere by any means. Not even close. It’s just enough to make him dangerous. Not even near enough to pass the medical exam, at least without cheating or a good binge study session. During the war, multiple gunshot wounds were commonplace on the battlefield. It was rare to get a single shot victim that wasn’t fatal because if someone was going to shoot at you most would send several rounds at you at a time. Single shot fatalities were normally the work of a carefully timed professional. Which weren’t the majority on an open battlefield. So if someone was shot repeatedly, there were things that he could do for them. But, just like a lot of things Gearing has been doing since he was a foal, he learned to do the best he can with what he has available. And improvise. As he’s thinking about faces and events from over two hundred years ago, he mindlessly makes quick tourniquets and straps them to two of Handy’s legs. He literally duct tapes wads of cloth to three other spots, all while looking where Swift is holding. As he’s slapping more and more makeshift methods for stemming the tide of blood flow, he keeps thinking, Not enough. Not enough. This isn’t enough.

All the while both the little blue and little gold pegasi in his head hold up various posters of anatomy, still images of memories of battlefield triage of the past, articles from various magazines he’d read, and other helpful things as Gearing systematically closes as many bloody leaks in Handy’s hide as quickly as he can.

Gearing starts getting brought out of his zen like state by Swift getting more and more vocal. She starts demanding answers. Demanding reassurances. Demanding action. And he starts arguing with Swift out of reflex as he’s barely paying her any attention as he’s focused his whole being on stopping the flow of blood from Handy. She wants to grab him and go. To hurry up and get him back to the stable’s auto doc. And Gearing flatly responds, “He won’t make it.” She continues arguing and getting emotional and not actually making any sense as she starts sobbing so hard while trying to talk. Eventually Gearing pulls enough focus away from the gore in front of him to look her in the eye and scream at her, “Remember when I told you about the shot? You did what you wanted then. And everything turned out because you got lucky. But, I’m telling you now, he will not make it! You understand me?! You grab him and leave and he’ll be a cold corpse before you even hit the station!”

The reply is like a slap to her face as it sends a jolt through her whole body. But she’s still panicking and asks through sobs, “What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do, what are you gonna do?”

Gearing stops time as he activates SATS. But instead of targeting anyone, he mentally uses the control system to tap out a message using his pipbuck. Once done, he then cancels SATS, resumes time, and sends it to her. He yells at her, “Open that message and as soon as it’s open, activate SATS, that’ll give you time to read it!”

She’s dumbfounded but does as instructed.

The message from Gearing basically tells her that Handy’s one and only chance is for her to go, as fast as she can, and get a healing potion from the stable. She’s the fastest one. But if she tries to carry Handy, he’ll just bleed out on her before she gets there. And Gearing’s wings aren’t good enough for it at the moment either. But, if she leaves, right now, Gearing can keep working on him and slow the blood loss enough. If they’re lucky, he’ll get it under control enough that he can start carrying Handy and taking him there. If they work together, they’ll be able to meet up at the halfway point, get Handy a potion, and that’ll last him well enough to get to the medical doc. What he needs is emergency surgery, a round in the auto doc in medical. He’s got too much metal in him at the moment and an ever dwindling blood supply.

She begrudgingly agrees, and is about to leave, but Gearing holds her up just long enough for him to use a whole pack of wonder glue on Handy’s neck, holding it there with the side of the package as he thinks, His artery’s been nicked… This should let blood get to the brain at least long enough to get him to the auto doc. And it seems that the torn flesh is held together enough that it stops leaking as the glue cures in place.

With that bit of malpractice medicine complete, he sends Swift on her way and keeps working on Handy. Which she obliges by bolting out at a speed that, frankly, Gearing wasn’t aware she was able to achieve. Which genuinely is saying something.

Gearing stoops down and checks Handy’s injured legs. One has significantly slowed bleeding. A good sign. The tourniquet is working.

But the second one, his hind leg, doesn't seem to be working well. And certainly not well enough. Gearing swears. “What now, the femoral artery too!?” Gearing lets out a groan before he says, “Handy, I’m sorry, but this is really going to suck.”

Handy’s kind of in shock and not able to move much, even his screaming has died down to a miserable moan.

Until Gearing’s sharp knife digs into Handy’s thigh. Handy thrashes a bit, and screams louder again, but Gearing uses a hoof and holds him down without even looking at him as he uses his wing to cut in deeper along the bullet wound. He reaches into the wound and wraps a bit of wire around the fleshy tube that’s leaking Handy’s life fluid at an alarming rate. But Gearing treats the thin wire like it were a simple cloth thread, wrapping it around, and pulling it taut, twisting and tying it until the loss of blood comes to a complete stop as the artery is tied off. And Gearing lets out a gush as he says, “Okay, that one’s clamped too…”

He checks the one on Handy’s abdomen, lifts the cloth bundle, and instantly swears. “I fucking hate being right…”

Gearing grabs Handy and looks him in the eye as Handy asks weakly, “Are you finally d-done?”

And Gearing replies softly, “No, I’m not done. Because I’m not giving up on you. You’re not making me explain to your foals what happened. You’re gonna do that yourself… We’re going to leave in a minute, but there’s something else I have to do first before we can go. We’re going soon. Okay? Just need to hold on a bit longer. You’re going to be fine, Handy. I’m not going to give up on you, so you better not either.”

Handy shakily nods as he shivers along the length of his whole body.

Gearing grabs a piece of rebar from not far away, and quickly throws together an abomination using a spark battery. He intentionally shorts the battery, across the rod, using some wires that obviously wouldn’t comply with code requirements. The wires catch fire from the overload, with the insulation around them quickly becoming black smoke, and then the metal quickly sags and melts away, but the rod turns red hot in short order. The act makes Gearing grunt in displeasure from the temperature himself. Gearing uses his forelegs to hold Handy down as he says, “I’m sorry, you can hate me, but I’m not letting you go that easy!” and jabs the piece of rebar straight into the wound in Handy’s abdomen. Instantly Handy thrashes around and screams, as much as he can, as his flesh cooks.

Gearing screams down at him, while leaning over him, “I’m sorry, Handy! The doc will be able to fix this, but I got to get you there first!” He leaves the rod of rebar inside the wound, picks up Handy, and takes off with him, using all four legs to cradle and hold Handy as he takes flight and flies as fast and as straight as he can. His wings had been healing the entire time. But they aren’t nearly 100% yet. Not by a long shot. So as he’s scooping up Handy, he makes a point of licking the dirty floor, blood, soot, and all, to get at least some of the spilt potion into himself to try and hurry the repairs along. He knows his implants will boost the effects, but even so, it’s going to take time before his wings are truly up to snuff. So it’s slowing him down a bit more than he’d like as he makes a bee line for the stable.

Before he really got going, Gearing sent a burst message to the stable using his broadcaster, letting Sable and the others know what happened, to get the auto doc ready, and meet at the door with a pouch of healing potions so Swift can grab and go. It’s the first time he’s used it for active communication, and he hopes that it’ll help since he has no guarantees that either Nettlekiss or Sable will be actively monitoring them. He hadn’t gotten that far with the setup yet, and hopes Sable's typical desire for more information regarding him will help incentivize her to do just that.

Gearing ends up making it more than halfway there before running into Swift again. They pause just long enough to get a couple potions down Handy’s throat, as she’s having a conniption fit about how much more injured he looks, and Gearing is positively covered in blood. Wanting to help as much as possible, Swift even makes Gearing drink a potion too to make him go faster. Because even now, Gearing is able to hold Handy rather still while flying, a feat that Swift simply can’t do. But even though the plan seems to be working, they get all the way to the stable with growing concern. Gearing straight up flies all the way to the medical bay none stop with the contamination chamber getting overridden for Gearing to fly right through with no pauses.

However, the rebar piece sticking out of Handy is so big that Gearing has to actually pull it out before they can close the pod lid. And as he does he has Handy hold a mouthful of potion and another at the ready. But as soon as Gearing yanks it out of him, Handy only gets half of the potion down his throat as he yells, half drinking, half inhaling the rest, and coughing out a bunch all over everything and everyone within range. Gearing ignores the bloody mixture spurted onto his face and pours a bunch of the potion he’d held in reserve directly into the reopened hole, now that it’s bleeding again thanks to him ripping out so much of the cauterized scab and wound, and then quickly shuts the auto doc’s lid and starts the procedure.

Swift grabs and holds onto Gearing as she spins him around and demands to know that Handy’s going to be okay. Her distraught brain is managing to formulate the questions, but they are coming out as demands and statements that she obviously wants to be reaffirmed.

But Gearing is kind of in a fit of a state himself. And as he’s still trying to process everything himself through the burnout he states rather flatly, “Successfully getting Handy into the auto doc and treatment started has raised his survival rate to eighty three percent.”

Swift balks before she screeches, “What kind of answer is that?!”

Gearing replies flatly, “The longer the auto doc runs without any alarms or premature shutoff, the higher his outlook is…”

The answers are not the answers Swift wants to hear, obviously, and she just starts shaking Gearing as she tries to get something she can understand and hold onto from him.

Nahlah comes into the medical bay and looks them over after following the blood trail from the hallway. She’s seen how Swift is reacting, and knows it’s not going to lead to anything good at this rate. So, in an attempt to change directions, she comments, “Gearing, you look like shit…”

Swift looks over at her, with her eyes red and swollen, and her cheeks drenched in her own tears as she tries to process what that has to do with Handy and his well being.

Gearing looks down at himself and replies, “Well, butcher shop surgery is all I know…”

Sable comes in and around Nahlah, looks at Gearing, and starts pulling him away from Swift with her cables and forelegs as she looks at Swift. “My darling Gearing has done all he can. My darling Gearing needs to get cleaned up and seen to. I suggest subject Swift tend to her husband.” As they are walking away she adds, “His estimates are correct. Subject Handy Hooves is in critical, but stable, condition.”

Nahlah goes over and sits with Swift as Gearing and Sable make their way back into the hallway, and Cure starts hovering around cleaning up what had been splattered on the floor. A few of the protectaponies have already started their cleanup duties in the hallway leading to the main entrance of the stable.

Sable leads Gearing down the hall, and to the decontamination chamber for the Research and Development Department. And, once inside of the chamber, Sable starts quickly undoing all of Gearing’s equipment and removing it from him. There’s so much blood on it that it’s actually hard to keep a hold of it in some instances. Especially the prototype shotgun. She quickly removes his equipment, damaged armor and all, then starts rubbing all of the blood and grime off of Gearing’s metallic pelt. All without Gearing saying anything since leaving the Medical Bay. She knows that now that the crisis is over, he’s been trying to process what all has happened himself, and she has let him have his peace.

But in an attempt to give him an option, as Sable is carefully trying to massage the various bits of filth off of Gearing, she asks softly, “Gearing, my love… do you want to talk about it?”

And the apparent prompting works.

Gearing slowly sits down as he says, “He was right there. Right next to me. We didn’t hear anything until the bullets started tearing through the sheet metal of a shipping container… That screeching, tearing sound. They had armor piercing bullets. That had to of been what they were using… It wasn’t kinetic rounds… They had to be AP rounds… It was enough to eat through the sheet metal, but after that they were slowed down enough that the damage to us was relatively minimal… And yet… still… Handy…”

Sable slips behind him, wraps her forehooves around his neck, and pulls his head backwards into her chest. Then she starts wrapping him up with her cables and gently caressing him along his abdomen and sides. She gently pulls him back into her as she caresses him. But, as she does, he just looks up at the water coming down on them and says nothing. He doesn’t even close his eyes as he’s being pelted by the solution.

Gearing’s stare becomes blank as he focuses far away and his memories of the event jump around chaotically. “His armor held up pretty well, despite getting swept with a broadside of rapid fire. But there were still many penetrations. The blood flowed instantly. I ripped the armor off to see how bad it was. It was bad. Shallow neck through and through nicked the jugular. Much more over and he’d be beyond saving with just that. Multiple torso impacts. One of which was the liver. Two legs. One his hind. That hit the femoral artery. Lucky it didn’t sever it entirely or it would have retracted into his abdomen and I’d never get it pinched off…”

He drops his head and stares blankly in silence for a bit longer before he leans back into Sable’s embrace and just hangs his head. “I knew Handy’s chances were slim at best. Especially without any potions to use. The things I had to do to him to try and save him are nothing less than torture. I stabbed and burned and tore his flesh. No anesthetic. Just held him down and abused him. I even made Swift leave to go get the potions. But, that was only part of it. I had to get rid of her. I knew she’d not let me do what I needed to do to save him. Not like what I was doing had a high chance anyway. But every second of arguing with her would have just been that much more blood joining the pool under him. So, she had to go.” He goes limp as he closes his eyes. “I- I could feel his life slipping away, right in my hooves. When I got his leg open, to get the artery closed off, I could feel his pulse through the artery. It was getting weaker. And yet faster. It’s that weird part of anatomy where the body knows it’s not getting enough oxygen to itself, and the blood pressure is lower than it likes, so it starts beating faster and faster to try and make up for it. And I could feel the pulses in the artery as I pinched it off… But we made it back to the stable with him still alive.” He nods weakly as he says, “I even scraped out some of the spilled potion and gave him that. Glass and all. I’m not even sure it really helped, but it couldn’t have hurt. Only way I’d really be able to know at this point is with a time machine or some sort of precognition ability.” He snorts in dark amusement at his own ridiculousness. “Dammit… we were just starting to get along and then this happens... But after what I did to him, he’ll probably never forgive me. He’ll probably be terrified of me, and this time have every justification for it. I mean, from his perspective, it was like I mercilessly tortured him for information that we both knew he didn’t have. But, as long as he pulls through, I won’t regret it. Even losing a budding friendship. It was worth it. I didn’t get into this life to make friends. I joined the war to save lives. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do. He can hate me all he wants as long as he keeps breathing enough to sling curses at me...”

Sable gives him a noticeably tighter squeeze as she holds him to her.

After a few more moments, of Sable holding Gearing tightly to her, Gearing comments quietly, “If that had been that fifty with AP rounds, we both would have been screwed. It had to of been a minigun, and judging by the holes they were five millimeter rounds, but it could have easily been a fifty… They have an LMG, I know that, that’s what they shot Swift with. But now they shot us with a minigun loaded with AP rounds… Just who are these fuckers?”

Gearing starts bristling as his body tenses up a bit the more he thinks about it.

Sable starts slowing down her caressing of his abdomen and shoulders. She pauses running her forehooves across his chest when she can feel his metallic mane bristle against her. She lets out a sigh before she asks, “You’re going back… aren’t you?”

Gearing says nothing.

She pulls him back, and forces him to look up at her, even if it’s going to be in reverse. She stares him in the eye for a few moments before leaning in and giving him a kiss in this uncomfortable upside down reverse position. And once she pulls back she gives him a slight, but warm, smile. “You are the best pony for the task, my darling Gearing. We both know this. So I will not stop you, but-”

“You’re not coming with me, Sable…” Gearing snaps and interrupts before she can say anything that’s going to cause them to have an argument.

She turns to the side, twisting around, and maneuvering him as well so they can look at each other at eye level but without any gravity shenanigans between them. “But… You are not allowed to leave without properly equipping yourself this time. You know the kind of ponies they are now… Take what you need to deal with them and do it as quickly as you can. I’m aware Swift and Handy will not be happy about not being able to get some revenge on them for this, as they both have come to harm, but, in this particular instance, you are the better pony for it.” She rubs his cheek and trails it around to cradle his head. “When it comes to close quarters with dark interiors, that’s your specialty. You can get into places most others can’t. And if you don’t have to coordinate, you can be free to act… Especially if you don’t have to worry about anyone getting caught in the crossfire.”

The little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head leans sideways and asks, ‘Wait, hold on… How she know so much? The dossier you gave me didn’t mention a lot of combat with her…’

His little blue pegasus companion arcs an eyebrow before replying, ‘Beats me… And that accent popped up at the end again, did you hear it?’

‘Mmmhmmm.’

They both lean towards her as they start giving her a discerning eye.

Gearing ignores the peanut gallery in his head as he goes from looking at one of her eyes to the other before he asks, “What are you saying, Sable?”

Sable grins at him as she asks, “You were planning on just dropping the whole building on their ears, weren’t you?”

The little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head leans back as he folds his forelegs across his chest. ‘Okay. Yup. I like her already. Fantastic idea.’

The other little pegasus assumes the same posture as he nods sagely. ‘Surely a mare of culture and class.’

Gearing stares at her for a moment as his eyes don’t really move. He blinks a few times. Then he smirks. “I wasn’t… but… now that you’ve put that idea into my head, I kinda feel like I kinda need to, don’t I?”

Sable shrugs before she says, “Do whatever it is that you feel you need to do. And just know that I will be here waiting on you to return.” She taps him on the nose before she narrows her eyes. “Just make sure to bring a couple healing potions for yourself. I know the amount you brought with you before was not enough for what had transpired. So make sure to bring some with you… I know you don’t have to worry about bleeding out, but, I don’t want you having to suffer and limp home either.” She grabs his cheeks with both forehooves as she stares at him in the eye. “Take what is specific to you… You hear me?” Gearing stares at her for a few moments, then nods lightly. And after that bit of confirmation she leans in and gives him a faint kiss on the nose before letting him go. Then she gets up and heads towards the door leading into the R&D department. “Well, come along. I know you’re in a hurry to get out of here… And, most likely, want to be gone long before Handy is done with the auto doc… because if they get out, they are going to want to leave. Even if Handy isn’t feeling up to it, which he might not given the blood loss, Swift most assuredly will want to go along. She doesn’t like being left out of such things and she has a bit of an ax to grind with those ponies at the moment.”

Gearing follows her out of the decontamination room and heads straight to his equipment lockers, leaving everything where it has already been left. He starts opening up the various lockers as he says. “This time: no armor. That helped stop some of the bullets coming at me, but it’d be too much of a hindrance if it’s not modified appropriately. I need flexibility. I need to be able to stretch out as much as possible without having it confining me, or, worse, popping or breaking loose when I stretch beyond what it’s wanting me to.”

Sable starts pulling out various boxes and crates. Each one with organized ammunition types and calibers. She starts walking over to the storage chamber as she asks, “What kind of explosives would you like to take with you, my dearest one?”

Gearing starts laying out a grid of equipment again. But, the weapons he’s taking are few in nature. The 10 mm pistol he acquired in this very room is a given. But then he also takes the pistol that he’d taken from the Ironshod R&D department. That Gun. He doesn’t have a whole lot of rounds for it. But it’s far too useful not to take given its size. Also he plans on giving it to Handy once this is all over. He’d been thinking of him the whole time for it. So in this way he’ll be able to get some revenge on Handy’s behalf with his own weapon. He also grabs one of the rifles that he had refurbished, and multiple boxes of ammo worth for it. On top of several magazines. As he’s laying them out he says, “Prioritize storage…” And as he’s looking at it, he sees Sable adding a small laser pistol and a couple of the ammo packs for it.

As her cable is returning to her after laying them out with the rest of the grid, she comments, “Variety is important, my love. That has multiple uses beyond simply terminating bad ponies…”
Gearing nods as he looks at it, and decides it’s actually a good idea. Despite having its own issues, it has its own advantages as well. And as he’s going down the mental list of things to bring, he goes over to his maintenance supply area, and cracks open a couple of the boxes. As he’s looking inside the smile on his face turns cold as he comments. “Multi purpose tools certainly are some of the best…”

Footnote:

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Matrix Quadrant ‘Personal’ Status: Ready.

‘BlueMac.Cred’ Sub Partitioned Successfully

Author's Note

A quick trip was faster than expected, because it ended badly and nopony's happy with the turn of events. Also Gearing demonstrating his surgery skills from Butcher's School of Hard Knocks.

Also, earlier today the first segment of Clockwork Precisions Ask the Characters blog has been released. You can find it on the blog I made here: Quillsy's Library: Ask the Characters

For those that wish to help support the project, and get access to more chapters earlier among other potential perks, that option is available through. Patreon.

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Thank you very much for all of the ongoing support, both financial and not, it truly means a lot to me!

102 Top-Down Approach

Of all of the ways that Gearing could have handled this situation, there’s a couple that would be very efficient. Sable had brought it up to him, and, in truth, he had thought about simply blowing the supports on the old roof and dropping the whole thing down onto all of them. Even if it didn’t kill them, it would certainly bury them alive. And without any kind of outside help they would die eventually. But, that’s not nearly as satisfying as what he wants. For a variety of reasons. One, needless suffering has always been a sour topic for him. And that’s exactly what would have happened if they’d been buried alive. It could be argued that they got what they deserved. Some would even cheer for it. But, not Gearing. That’s not his style.

And then there is the problem with how long it would take him to confirm the kills. He doesn’t know how many are involved with this group as it is, but having some able to hide from him, even in a hole that they don’t want to be in, isn’t something he wants to wait out to figure out if they’re going to kick the bucket or not.

Besides, he’s pretty sure that this organization has some leaders. After everything that’s happened, he’s sure now. This group has some level of organization. They had ponies salvaging items while not on active duty. They had ponies set up in ambush that had enough discipline that they didn’t give themselves away with talk or idle movement before they could unleash their trap. Granted, the pair that were in that shipping container died, but that wasn’t the game plan he’s sure. Most ponies would not have survived that kind of attack. Handy barely did, and only by a single hair on his tail at that. Swift would have certainly been killed if she had been with them when the trap was sprung. And the only reason Gearing wasn’t in the same shape as Handy is because he doesn’t bleed. A strange advantage of being cursed the way he is, but an advantage nonetheless.

So he wants the leaders. Badly.

Someone not only put them up to it, but had the ability to control them enough to do so. That is a rather rare trait. And with the leaders gone, along with the others they have set up in key positions, the rest should just devolve into a non-cohesive rabble. Far less dangerous. Far easier to manage. So just like he’d mentioned to Magnolia, he’s going to cut the head off this snake.

And as he’s getting into position for his planned attack run, he can’t help but actually smile at what he’d been told by Sable as he was leaving Stable 68.

‘The Light Bringer is alive.’

That was the bombshell that she had left him with when he was about to leave. She went on to explain that the little repair pony mare had somehow managed to survive her rescue operation. Not only had she survived it, but is apparently thriving now as she’s been rescuing ponies this whole time, fighting the good fight, and even recently was seen saving ponies in the Manehatten area. She’d learned all of this by keeping tabs on the radio frequency for DJ Pon3, and had been excited to tell Gearing about it when he got back from Hoofington. But things had been happening so fast she couldn’t find a good segue into it. But, with him leaving, and with everything that had happened, she’d thought it would be a good idea to give him some good news. That he’d appreciate it. And might even draw some strength from it.

And she was right, on all counts.

After hearing about that little victory for the good guys, Gearing is practically pumped. Security is still doing good and avoiding capture despite the massive bounty on her head and half of Hoofington seemingly after it for the same reason. And now the stable dwelling ‘Light Bringer’ is back in action too, after returning from a fight where she was thought already lost. He’s hoping that with such individuals, it’ll help others to rise up and be better versions of themselves. To help improve the wastes of Equestria instead of simply surviving.

For him, it’s a strange feeling. Like something out of one of his comic books or games. Because back during the war, he’d always felt at odds with the propaganda. About the whole ‘us versus them’ nonsense that the Ministry of Image kept spouting off. He knew different. He’d seen first hoof how things really were. On both sides of the line. It wasn’t so black-and-white clear-cut as they tried to make it out to be. Simply saying who the ‘bad guys’ were was more of a case of which side you were on than it was anything else. He already knew that they were simply creatures. On both sides. As a whole they weren’t evil, they were fighting for their own causes. That’s it. And he’d always hoped that reason would win the day and they would declare peace. But something happened while he was knocked out to prevent that. So it never came to pass.

But now, here, in the wasteland, there’s far less morally questionable folks to be disposed of. The lines are far clearer. There are some universally accepted rules of society, regardless of your nationality. And to go against them willingly, and gleefully, is not only frowned upon, but actively despised. And those that do go that route are firmly in the category of ‘vile creature that needs to be removed’. And thus, unquestionably the ‘bad guys’. In a more perfect world he’d be able to remove them to some high security holding facility where they could remain until they were rehabilitated or generally dealt with appropriately. But, there’s no justice system for him to hand them over to now. There’s no prisons for him to toss them into. In fact, the last prison he saw looked like it was actively burning with a balefire missile lodged into its side.

So, with limited options for dealing with them otherwise, a fight that needs to be carried on, and an ear full of good news that he’s not alone in this endeavor, Gearing heads to eliminate one nest of bad apples from Equestria’s lands. Permanently.

Gearing had decided on a different avenue of approach this time, as he flew high in the air and stuck to his primary advantage: flight. And from so high that he’s sure no one at ground level would actually accurately spot him, he carefully positioned himself over the warehouse, and lets drop a few items. As he watches the small items disappear into the scenery below he can’t help but smile. “It was hard hitting that mare, because she was moving, but a stationary target like a building? Oh, that’s a piece of cake…” Then he flies a bit further over, and starts circling. He counts out a bit as he does the mental math on how fast and how far the items he’d dropped would have to fall until they reached where they needed to be, then he folds his wings, turns down, and dives right towards the tallest building in the immediate area. On his way down he sees a few flareups of bright white, and then multiple orange fireballs, as the small objects land in the hole where the ponies had set up their ambush and shot Swift the day before. And as Gearing is falling, he finally hears the noise of the explosions travel to him as he meets up with the shock wave's crest. And he smiles even more as he sees even more of that warehouse’s ceiling collapse and wonders if he managed to catch anyone in all of that.

The little blue pegasus in his head giggles as he sees the multiple explosions go off simultaneously. ‘Awww after they went to all that trouble to clean the place up! Bet they’re gonna be crying about that now!’

The little golden pegasus comments with a grin, ‘Bet they piiiisssssed.’

Gearing fans his wings, cuts his speed, and comes to a sudden stop before landing on the top of the roof of the building he’d been aiming for: the eight story tall office tower. And he can’t help but grinning even wider as he can hear the tell tale sounds of various machine guns firing in the distance. And having confirmed the distraction has taken hold, he walks over to the back side of the tall building, opposite the giant warehouse and manufacturing area combination, and looks over the side carefully. To his surprise he looks down, and sees a barrel sticking out of the window a story down. The window had already been broken. But there is obviously a pony with a long rifle looking out into the wastes like they are expecting an attack to come from this angle and they aren’t falling for the multiple explosions on the other side.

Gearing scowls as he comments, “Some of these assholes have more than a couple brain cells… That’s a dangerous trait indeed.”

The little blue pegasus rolls his eyes and looks away with his snoot high in the air. ‘Amateur. Only a complete idiot sticks their gun out of the building...’

He can see how the rifle is going slowly back and forth. How it’s stopping at certain spots, and then moving around randomly. And, it’s not hard to mentally picture where the pony is looking based on the angle and movements. They’re looking closely at a ridge in the distance. And at all of the rubble on that side of the complex. And, as Gearing is looking around, he realizes that they hadn’t managed to be as sneaky as they had hoped when they came to attack this morning. From here, as he had been afraid of, they had spotted them approaching. So there were probably a few ponies set up in ambush throughout the compound. He’s still not sure what was up with that group of six they removed, but that’s a mystery he’s willing to solve after everything has been done and accounted for.

And, right now, he already knows what the next thing he needs to do is.

He grabs out a coiled up bit of wire from one of his bags, and holds it just like he’d been taught over two hundred years ago by some cowponies turned soldiers back during the war. He starts twirling it over his head, before he jumps over the side of the building and spins around. He drops down fast and hard enough that the pony with the sniper rifle didn’t even have time to register what was happening before it had been completely ripped away from him as Gearing grabbed it with his hind hooves as he was falling down. As Gearing came to an abrupt stop, using his wings to provide just enough lift, he whipped out his other hoof and let the coil soar out towards his target.

Gearing stops just long enough for the improvised lasso to circle around the buck’s neck, and greet him with a friendly, “Howdy, pardner,” before Gearing jumps back and up, yanking the pony right out of his sniper nest by his neck to dangle from the metal rope turned improvised noose. Gearing flies up a bit higher, then yanks the coil towards himself, roughly bringing the buck up even higher, another five feet, before he stops flapping his wings. After they are back at the level of the floor where he had pulled the sniper out from, he suddenly flaps his wings and goes back up at full speed.

The buck falls down, as gravity wants, before suddenly and violently getting jerked back upwards by his neck. He’d already been getting choked so hard that he wasn’t able to even scream. But the sudden change in forces causes a loud pop as the weight of his own body is multiplied by Gearing’s maneuver and his neck hyper extends to the point of snapping the buck’s life line. Gearing flies up to the roof and gently drops the buck’s still warm corpse onto the concrete top. He reclaims his coil from around their neck, completely ignoring the amount of fresh blood on it, as he keeps looking around. He stoops down, grabs the buck, and starts checking him. And the first thing he does, is open the buck’s eyes.

Gearing stares at the green irises of the buck, and gives them a discerning examination. And, frustratingly, he finds that not only are they clear, except for a few popped blood vessels from his recent treatment, and otherwise blood veinyness from stress or whatever else the buck has been through, there’s nothing else. There’s no yellowing. There's nothing to explain to Gearing on why this buck would be part of a group that’s indiscriminately killing ponies. Beyond greed and meanness. And it just makes Gearing more frustrated.

And angry. Very. Very. Angry.

Gearing checks the sniper rifle that he’s dropped on the roof before dropping the body, and decides he’ll be dealing with that later. But, after making it to the edge, he turns and looks at the rifle again as he gives it a second thought. He stares at it for a few moments before he shrugs. He walks back over, grabs the rifle, and checks its ammo. And, true to thought, it has a completely loaded magazine in it. He quickly checks the buck’s body, and finds not only a couple more completely full magazines, but a bandoleer over his chest that’s half loaded with more individual rounds as well. Gearing quickly stows them on himself, with the long rifle across his back, before he drops back down and hovers in front of the window.

He’d managed to take out that one lookout sniper. But that doesn't mean there aren’t more on this floor. And, he’s tired of playing mister nice buck. So he looks the area over where the sniper had been, and notices a radio sitting next to a stool that the buck had been using. He grabs it, and quickly clips the small radio onto his own harness, though he turns the volume on it down.

As he’s listening to the radio carefully, he hears a mare’s voice come across the radio.

A buck replies back over the radio.

The mare’s voice replies with an annoyed groan.

Another voice comes across the channel, talking over the others with a louder commanding voice.

The two chime back quickly <> and the radio goes silent again.

Gearing smiles as he looks at the radio. Even more as, even though he had the radio in his ear, he’s pretty sure he heard another buck’s voice. But not through the radio.

He starts walking through the building’s top floor, checking around each corner, and looking for the source of the noise. He gets to the right side of the building from the point he’d entered through, and starts looking through those offices. And, it’s not hard for him to track his quarry after a certain point.

Because this sweaty buck is hanging near an open window and there is a nice window tunnel effect bringing his scent straight to Gearing. Gearing comes right to the door in short order as, once he got so close, he was able to pinpoint the buck not only by his smell, but by the red marker on his EFS that let him judge the distance and direction pretty accurately. So as he’s stepping into the doorway, he looks around carefully at the various debris to make sure there’s not any noise making traps.

But apparently his hoofsteps alone are enough to draw the buck’s attention.

The unicorn buck scoffs, “What are you doing on my side, we’re supposed to be-” He stops when his eye is turned enough to see Gearing, which wasn’t much really, and then, in a move that actually mind boggles Gearing, the buck actually jumps straight ahead and out of the window away from Gearing. He spins around throwing his flank out the window as he twirls to bring his rifle around and aim it at Gearing. But, at the same time, his horn glows and his own body starts to get encompassed with his own levitation field.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head puts a hoof to his chin as he asks, ‘Is he going to fly out there, or try and float himself down to ground level? Long way down for a non flier…’

‘Could simply shoot his horn then, and just wave goodbye as he falls,’ the golden pegasus offers.

But the question is moot as Gearing jumps forward after him. But, not only does he move forward suddenly, he stops mid air with his wings and uses his whole body to spin and fling his metallic rope out at the buck at the moment they’d moved. In the process, the sudden maneuvers and change in directions put extra power into the toss. And in a bit that’s actually humorous for Gearing, the buck actually turns around and puts his own neck into the lasso by his twirling spin maneuver. He would have jumped clear of it, and Gearing would have missed, but trying to get all fancy actually put himself in harm's way.

And Gearing thanks him by jumping in the air, and spinning again like a miniature tornado, yanking the buck towards him by his neck and pulling him, and his rifle, clear of his own levitation field from suddenly getting choked. As the buck is getting closer to Gearing he snaps his wings and goes after the buck as he pulls back with his other front hoof. “This is for Swift!” And he hits the buck in the side of the head with enough force that the buck actually gets sent flying back the direction he’d come. Gearing chokes up on the rope a bit more, making it shorter, and again yanks the unicorn towards him. “And this one is for Handy!” He hits the buck in the other side of the head with a hind leg kick, though the buck’s eyes are already looking dazed and out of focus. This kick not only makes him go flying back again, but knocks loose several teeth. And, up in the air, up near the ceiling, Gearing keeps playing yo-yo with the buck with one hoof strike or another as he yells at him. “And this is for making me waste my time with your ass instead of being in bed with my mare! And this is for fucking up my wings. And this is for making me late to teach the kids. And this for fucking up my equipment. And this one, fuck, I didn’t say it fast enough. Well this one is for something but you’re not dead yet so have another!” The buck’s body gets thrown back and forth as it’s getting yanked closer by the rope, and then pummeled with Gearing’s hooves. And then, after the buck’s head starts losing pieces of fur, Gearing finally grabs him and slams him into a wall made of concrete instead of the windows.

Gearing stares at the buck for a bit. Then he turns his head and looks back where the buck was getting yo-yo’d so violently. Then over at the stallion’s crumpled form again. After a few moments of silence he slowly walks over and starts pulling his rope back off of the buck. “Uhmm… you were already dead… weren’t you? That uh… that red bar’s still there…” He wipes his bloody hoof off on the buck and says, “Sorry about that… I thought that was you… I’ll go find out who that is and get rid of them… Glad no one else saw that, or they’d think it was excessive…”

The two pegasi in Gearing’s head look at each other sideways, and then start innocently whistling quietly as they look away in decidedly different directions.

Gearing grabs the couple of magazines for the rifle that had fallen onto the ground, as it had not only one loaded for use, but another additional four strapped to its butt stock. He even takes the extra round out of the chamber and walks out with them as he leaves the rifle behind. For now. He’s not interested in getting shot in the back today.

The next floor down, third from the top, doesn’t really seem to have much in the way of problems that are in need of correcting. But one thing Gearing has noticed were some things that seemed to confirm his hunch about their living situation. Because while this floor did have a broken window, as all of them had at least one broken window, the one that had the broken window was cordoned off from the rest of the building. Except, it seems, that the door wasn’t entirely sealed. And, Gearing realizes, that they probably propped the door open to the room with the broken window to aid with air flow on warmer days. But on days like today, with it not being too bad, the door is closed.

However, the floor has a large amount of individual office spaces. Similar to the above floors. And the center portion, again, has an open floor plan where many ponies would work in their own little cubes of hell back during the war. However, all of the offices have obviously been converted over to individual rooms. Like little apartments. All of the work desks had been removed. And in their places were either actual beds, cots, or, in a couple cases, simply mattresses on the floor. But, even so, they had their own rooms. And as he’s looking around the center area, he can see the desks and cubicles in the area have all been repurposed as communal areas and storage space. A few of them have even been converted into makeshift workbenches as he can see a variety of tools and bits for working on weapons or armor. One area even has had everything pushed out of the way and a bunch of seats set up where they can hang out. And, as a bit of civilization it seems, the little kitchenette not far away, where the office’s break room once had been, has been converted into a full blown kitchen. And, to Gearing’s surprise, this isn’t simply a matter of making due with what they have. They aren’t just burning desks in a bathtub to cook random animals. No. They have pots and hot plates. And, as he gets closer, he can’t believe what he’s seeing. A working refrigerator. And the power is coming from a generator nearby that has a spark battery plugged into it. He cracks the fridge open carefully, and looks inside, and, sure enough, there’s a variety of food in there. Even a few beers and sparkle colas.

And, the biggest shock of all, is the fact that several things have names on them. Crudely put on, but noticeable.

And, because he’s feeling a bit cheeky at the moment, he commits a bit of office place theft by stealing the Stable-tec lunchbox sitting on the top shelf. He opens it up, and notices that it does indeed seem to have food inside of it. It even has the accompanying small thermos that fits inside and keeps cold items cold and hot items hot for far longer than should be possible. So, Gearing takes the whole thing. And when he puts it into his inventory he can’t help but chuckle as his Pipbuck determines the best description for the item he put into his bag is ‘Somepony’s Lunch’.”

And he doesn’t have a single feeling of guilt about it as he turns and starts looking around for the other red chevrons on his EFS. After all, once he’s done getting rid of all of these red markers, he intends on taking all of these items too. So, whoever made this lunch, is never going to get to eat it.

Except maybe in Tartarus. Which is a long way away, so it’s a good thing they’ve already packed a lunch.

Gearing gets down to the next floor rather easily as the steps near the kitchen area are clean and clear of debris. He starts walking down slowly when he hears a mare’s voice over the radio he’s carrying again.

The commanding voice from earlier comes back over the radio.

Gearing smirks as he says quietly, “Oh~, I’m sure they haven’t seen anything since getting their souls snatched out of them… but… how long until you figure that bit out?”

The mare’s voice comes back over the radio before cutting off.

Gearing hears a grumble from the same floor before a mare practically snarls. “What’s taking them so long to find a couple half dead pegasi?”

The voice from earlier, not coming from the radio this time, comments, “They probably had potions and took off. The explosions might have been a distraction so they could flee. Whoever they are, they are at least somewhat smart…”

Gearing smirks as he looks through the wall, and towards the area that he’s pretty sure the voice just came from. Well hello there brain cells…

The mare huffs before she asks, “Should we have everypony fall back to the tower, just in case? Shore up the first floor?”

The commanding buck’s voice lets out an annoyed sigh. “No, that’ll just group us up, and they already showed they have access to explosives… We tighten up like that and they’ll just drop the building on our ears. Better for us to spread out more. Less chance of us getting wiped out.”

Gearing creeps around the hallway divider, then gets to a doorway. He peeks in and sees two pony shapes on the other side of frosted glass where a conference room of some kind is. He slips off the pistol that he’d taken from among the corpses at Ironshod and walks right up to the frosted glass. Both of the ponies seem to have their back to him as they are looking over a table of some kind and don’t pay any attention towards him. Well, That Gun, let’s see what you can do...

The mare’s voice echoes around through an open door. “That’s fair, but how about moving one of our heavy weapons teams inside? Maybe to the mid floor spotter location? That way they can provide fire both to the air, or towards anyone at the ground. And if they get inside they can keep the stairs secure by not letting them climb up.”

The shadow on the right moves and Gearing can see bits of it slightly disappear from view as they stretch away and point at something on the table.

Gearing points the large pistol at the glass, and waits.

The commanding voice comments, “Move the LMG team. Leave the others where they are.” The shadow on the left moves as it stretches towards the mare’s side as it points somewhere with a forehoof. “The weapon’s ballistics should let them-”

Whatever he was going to say is drowned out as Gearing pulls the trigger on the pistol and the weapon releases a resounding crack. The initial noise is even loud enough to drown out the initial sound of the shattering glass near him. And as the glass is getting blown inwards, an older stallion wearing a worn out military uniform gets knocked over by the impact of the round. But, his head, as hard as it must have been to control this rabble, wasn’t hard enough to stop the bullet from continuing on and putting a massive pockmark in the wall across from him.

The mare’s eyes go wide as she sees half of her leader’s head explode right in front of her, and all of their paperwork getting covered with his blood and gray matter. However, she has enough wherewithal to jump back and away, as she rolls behind cabinetry before Gearing can even point his weapon in her direction.

Gearing calls after her. “They’re already inside, dumbass… Let me show you why it’s a bad idea to piss off clever pegasi…”

He hops over the low wall that’s there, pointing the pistol in the direction she had went, but narrows his eyes as he sees she’s already gone. He starts after her, going through the door that’s not far away, and it’s not hard for him to track her as he hears her panicked hooffalls as she runs down the hallway, then down the stairs not far away.

The little blue pegasus in Gearings head smirks wickedly as he comments, ‘We got a rabbit.’

As he’s making it to the opening to go down, Gearing can hear the mare start screaming.

“They came in through the roof! They got the commander! They’re right behind me!”

Gearing flutters down the stairwell, upside down, and practically hangs from the ceiling while he goes as quickly as he can to the next floor. When he gets there he sees a group of three ponies, all looking back behind themselves, as he sees a mare running at full speed further up the hallway away from them all. Gearing quickly flies out of the stairwell, and over the three ponies, who seem to have been carrying a set of heavy weapons, but then drops it all and quickly starts setting it up to point at the stairwell. To their credit, they manage to get it set up, fully loaded, and ready to fire at the stairwell in a matter of seconds.

Unfortunately for them, Gearing had already managed to get behind them, again, and was now between them and the mare that had run past them. He stares at them for a moment, then shakes his head silently. He activates SATS, and targets the three ponies.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm. Confirm.

And then he activates the spell assisted sequence. Instantly That Gun begins roaring in the hallway. The pony in the middle, operating the machine gun, is the first one to get shot, and their helmet doesn’t stay on their head as a good portion of their head manages to get separated from the rest of them. The pony on the left is the next to go down, likewise getting shot in the head without even having a chance to move. The third and final pony, the one on the right, is just fast enough to turn and look behind them as they heard, and saw, the other two get shot out of the corner of their eye. And Gearing can see the horror in the pony’s eyes, in slow motion high detail, as they look back at him right as he fires his third round. The surprised look didn’t even get removed from their face as their head’s knocked sideways and a good portion of their personality gets thrown over the stairwell.

With the three targets registering as destroyed by SATS, time resumes, and the bodies continue their fall to the ground.

But before they even finish flopping over like boneless ragdolls, Gearing has already spun around and started flying after the mare that had run this way just moments ago. He gets to the next stairwell, and, as he starts flying down, he hears the mare’s voice scream over the radio as she pants, Then Gearing can hear over the still open radio channel, but with her voice getting further away from the transmitter as she screams, And a buck’s voice over the radio, who apparently had his own and she commandeered for a few seconds, comments,

Another voice comments on the radio,

Another voice chimes in,

Gearing’s smile gets even wider as he hears the command structure of this little organization completely implode on itself after so few casualties. With minimal effort, he’s dumped their morale straight into the toilet. But, in this instance, he’s not interested in simply routing them and minimizing casualties.

He flies down to the second floor and finds a group of ponies grabbing a bunch of items and throwing them into EDF colored duffle bags. He’s not sure what all of it is, but it’s obviously something they themselves consider valuable. It’s not a bunch of personal effects, he’s sure, the area doesn’t look like a bedroom of any sort. Not even a communal one. To him it looks more like a place to store gear in the middle of the building for rapid deployment or before they go out on their patrols or ambushes. And more than a few weapons are easily identifiable in the mix.

And instead of fleeing like the one mare that had already made it around to another staircase, and down again, this group has decided to try and steal more from their own comrades.

From his perspective up near the ceiling, Gearing can see the ponies below him working furiously. Most of the stuff is already boxed. Some of it might be food. Others could just be scrap. None of it would be worth their life in this case.

So as he drops down on the buck with the fewest things packed, and smashes his chest straight to the ground with his gravity implant turned off, he finds it a bit ironic. He looks around at the other five, who had been stuffing various armor and weapons into bags. None of them have any weapons currently at easy access.

While the buck under him is still screaming out in agony of having a ton of brass smashing him into the concrete and almost cutting him in half, the others look over to see what had happened. And their eyes almost jump out of their respective heads as they see a golden monstrosity with flared out green wings standing on the buck as casually as if it had stepped on a river rock.

Several quickly start pulling weapons out of the bags they had just tried to stuff them into. The mare in the back side of the group actually lifts up a carbine from near her and almost has it leveled at Gearing before she gets shot repeatedly and goes down. The pony closest to Gearing manages to get his weapon pointed at Gearing’s head. And he pulls the trigger.

Both of them clearly hear the impotent click of the completely empty weapon.

The buck’s mouth slacks as the weapon droops, and, despite what he thinks at the time, it’s the buck directly behind him that is next to be shot. And then the one to their left after that.

Gearing strategically shoots them all, with the second to the last left alive being the buck he’s currently standing on. Until finally silencing his suffering and the screaming that’s filling the entire hallway. Then he levels his gun at the last buck and asks, “Who shot the pegasi down yesterday, and where are they now?”

The buck quickly reacts, flipping his hoof out towards the general direction of a couple buildings across from the major warehouse as he does an impressive impersonation of a direction sign. “The fire team was moved to the building acrossed the truck park from the manufacturing plant.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment before asking, “And who the fuck’s idea was it to seal ponies up in shipping containers with AP rounds?”

The buck shakes a bit as he points up, then back behind himself. “The leader, and his second in command, that lieutenant of his that just ran past here. She’s already running as fast as she can…That way...”

Gearing frowns as he asks, “And where are they going?”

The buck stares at him, and then slowly sits down. He knows he’s done. And the best thing he can do for himself is to try and purchase his own hide. “I- I don’t know, okay? Just- just took off screaming every pony for themselves… I don’t know where you’re from, and I don’t know if she thinks that’s some kinda code or whatever. But to me, that just means she’s just trying to run and save her ass.” They stare at each other for an extra second before he swallows hard and waves his forehoof gently, slowly. “L-look… I’ve only been with this crew a couple days, okay? I-I didn’t know they were just gonna start popping pegasi… I thought they were a salvage crew or something. They were just having me and a few others stripping out machining equipment to be sold as scrap while the rest provided security.” He looks around then says, “I didn’t know they’d be ambushing caravans and stuff too. I- I didn’t want to be a part of that. You gotta believe me, man, I’ve already been planning on taking off at the first opportunity… Because these ponies are the kind that’d shoot you in the back.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment, then waves at the ground with a hoof. “Don’t move. Don’t talk. And don’t mess with anything. Stay right there. Maybe I’ll believe you.”

The buck stares at him and his legs shake as he looks at Gearing, and That Gun that just wasted five ponies in front of his very eyes. He breathes hard a few times and then asks, “M-mind if I lay down? My knees feel like they’re about to break from all the shaking…”

Gearing nods and the buck quickly flops down. He stretches out, going prone, as he seems to try to melt into the concrete under him. He even holds onto the top of his head and closes his eyes as he obviously doesn’t want to be part of this reality anymore.

Gearing turns and heads towards the windows that lead out to the front of the building. As he looks out, he can see a mare, the lieutenant, running toward the buildings across the truck parking area from the warehouse. He casually slips out the rifle that he’d taken from the spotter up stairs, and scoots over a chair from nearby to one of the broken windows. He sits down, and sights down at the mare as she’s running away. He double checks the ammo of the rifle, makes sure there’s a round racked, and then settles into the position. He lets out a gush of air as he says quietly, “Hope this thing is sighted correctly.” Then he goes deathly still.

He squeezes the trigger.

The rifle jumps a bit from the recoil of the blast. Back into him. And as he’s looking through the scope he sees the back left leg of the mare suddenly develop a new joint in it as she was just landing on them when the bullet hit her. The ground under her gets splattered with blood. And Gearing can tell, from the movement of her head, that she must be yelling something fierce. But, he can’t hear her at the moment. Not with the focus he’s putting into his task.

The two little head companions in Gearing’s mind space sit casually playing Go Fish as they ignore their surroundings intentionally.

Off to the side of the pair is a single pedestal floor sign with a plaque hanging from it that reads:

‘Mercy’s out to lunch.

Please try again later.’

“Damn, it’s a little off… that was short and to the left… That’s okay, I can compensate…” Gearing mutters to himself.

He keeps staring at the mare on the ground and slowly moves the scope up and to the right more. He sees the door to the building open, just a few paces away from the mare as she’d almost made it. Another mare, wearing a uniform like the commander up above, steps out with a weapon drawn, but then looks down at the lieutenant as she’s trying to pick herself up after having one of her legs knocked out from under her. The new mare lets go of her weapon, and starts walking forward in an obvious bid to help the downed mare.

She never heard the shot as the bullet sent to intercept her removes any thoughts she still had in her head and deposits them onto the rubble near her hooves and a bit behind her. She falls down as limp as a doll that some child had discarded after finishing playing with it. The lieutenant on the ground sees her attempted savior get summarily killed, then rolls over to look behind her. She tries to see where the shots are coming from. Gearing thinks she may even be attempting to try and get a good angle that she could use to figure out what would be effective to hide behind.

And then her eyes fall on the correct window. Where Gearing is standing holding the rifle and pointed right at her. Through the scope he can see her looking right at him. Their eyes meet over the distance. She had rolled over onto her back and is using her fore left and back right legs to keep pushing herself towards the door as she points her front right hoof towards Gearing and screams something Gearing doesn’t even care to try to understand.

Gearing activates SATS as he stares at her through the scope. He can see her hoof pointing, in his general direction, as she’d been waving it at him. The look on her face is quite telling. Terror. Absolute, unabashed, terror. It’s not some form of anger or retaliation or something like that. Even from here, even as weak as the scope he’s using is, Gearing can see it. And, considering the other red dots he’s seeing around him through his EFS, he doesn't have a lot of time to deal with one mare already halfway out the door and on her way to hell. He activates SATS again.

Target Select:

Select Attack Point:

Eighty-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm.

Select Attack Point:

Ninety percent chance of success.

Confirm.

Select Attack Point:

Ninety-Five percent chance of success.

Confirm.

Confirm.

Gearing’s rifle unleashes a shot, in slow motion, and as soon as the weapon settles enough, it fires again. The spell’s effects, regardless of what Gearing might decide otherwise after it’s already activated, launches three rounds in rapid succession at the mare.

The first round misses its intended target, and instead hits the mare’s outstretched forehoof. And then the projectile travels the length of her cannon before blowing out the elbow and coming out the side. The wound is serious, like the one that snapped her left hind leg. But not immediately fatal.

The second shot Gearing can clearly see impact in her lower abdomen. Thus creating a decent sized hole in the front and, judging by the splatter behind her, a much larger exit wound as it apparently traveled through nothing but soft tissues.

The third shot hits her in the chest, and flings her back and to the ground. Her body bounces lightly from the impact as she’s impeccably knocked a bit closer to her goal: the door into the building.

SATS ends with the firing task complete.

Gearing groans as he looks through the eyepiece. He sucks his teeth as he keeps staring through the scope. “SATS and distances… some things never change… At least it compensated for the scope… sort of…”

The mare starts trying to roll over, towards the door. And Gearing can see how three of her legs are now out of commission. Her hind legs aren’t moving at all except where she’s trying to drag herself with her foreleg. Now she only has the one solitary foreleg still intact, but, based on the amount of blood around her, she shouldn’t last long. Even with immediate medical attention she might not.

Gearing aims again, adjusts the angle, and fires once again, without even trying to use his spell matrix this time.

The lieutenant pulls herself towards the door and, as she is arcing up with the effort of using her foreleg as leverage, the bullet passes clean through the side of her head and she goes limp and falls down.

Gearing glares at her through the rifle’s scope as he’s replacing the magazine with a fresh one he’d taken from the dead buck upstairs. “Not very fun having your body riddled with AP rounds, is it, bitch?” He doesn’t even get the new magazine in before movement in the scope catches his eye. He swings the scope up and to the right a bit more, towards the door, and sees a pony start stepping out of the door. Gearing takes note of the equipment, the dirty jumpsuit, and quickly pulls the trigger on his rifle.

But, the pony, either feeling the scythe of death on his neck, or having some other guardian angel tossing him a carrot, ducks back and away from the open doorway. And just in time as the door frame gets chunks of concrete blown away from it on the inside, and shows everyone that sees it that the shot would have been true and lethal.

Gearing clicks his tongue as he scowls around the scope. “Missed…” He readies the next round as he looms over the complex like a storm from the vantage point of the window. “Let’s play hide and seek...”

Footnote:

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Errors Discovered . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Matrix Quadrant ‘Personal’ Status: Ready.

Author's Note

Gearing returns on his own to try and find out why this particular group is so effective, doesn't like what he finds, and cleans house. There's more going on here than he knows but he'll find out soon enough.

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103 Cleanup Operation

Gearing hurries up and slaps the new-to-him fully loaded magazine into the rifle and chambers a new round before looking around outside with the scope again. But, his quick check turns up nothing obvious, so he turns around and heads back to the equipment staging area of the tower where he’d left his sole captive. He’d already spent quite a bit of time, and a fair bit of ammo as well, gunning down those that dared to run that he could see from their own sniper’s nest. But, he knows, there’s still more to be done and at least a few heads left to be counted. So now he has to hunt them down like the rabid dogs they are acting like.

As he’s slinging the rifle back over his back, he walks up to the buck that’s splayed out, face down, on the ground with his head buried under his own forehooves. He stops not far from him as he asks, “Okay… well, with those two gone… is there anyone else you think that’d try and keep the crew together?”

The buck slips his hooves off his head and looks up at Gearing. “I haven’t been here that long. So I don’t really know… but.. Those two seemed to have everypony else under their hoof. He’s the really organized sort. Really smart it seemed. That’s why I joined up, he was talking about us salvaging the equipment and using that money to expand the operations.” He shrugs. “He really seemed like he had a plan for all of it. But everypony else was pretty much just along for the ride. The lieutenant and him went back a ways, I’d heard. And she wasn’t much of a long term planner pony, but more of the organization and such sort.” He frowns as he says, “Even on the first day I noticed most of them seemed to be more like a raider than anything. More worried about their next meal or vice hit than anything else… No thought to the future at all.”

Gearing looks him over and asks, “So, you’re just here for a job yourself, right?”

The buck eagerly nods. “I’ve done scavving for most of my life. But with all the dangers I’d run into in ruins I thought it’d be nice to have some guards for a change. I thought that’s what he was doing…” He lowers his head before he lets out a sigh. “Until I saw them hit that one caravan that was passing through… Didn’t leave any survivors…” He looks up at Gearing and frowns. “I don’t think I was supposed to see that. And they never mentioned it. And I didn’t bring it up.”

Gearing nods as he says, “Yeah. It’s likely if you did, and didn’t show enough enthusiasm, or showed any fear, that they’d just kill you to prevent any kind of conflicts later. So that was probably smart…”

The buck looks him over and asks quietly, “So… is this the point where you kill me? Or…?”

Gearing looks at him before he asks, “Well you were completely inept with weapons. Couldn’t even tell the difference between a fully loaded weapon and one that was entirely empty. So I don’t see you being a big threat, even with weapons.”

The buck frowns as he says, “The most I’ve ever used is a varmint rifle to get rid of bloat sprites…”

Gearing looks him over before he asks, “If you’re just looking for a job, to earn a living, would you stick with that?”

The buck waves around as he says, “Uh… yeah? I mean… Why? You looking to hire someone to schlep your stuff around for you? I’m not much of a fighter but I can certainly haul…”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “No. I was thinking more along the lines of a job that I heard about.” He looks the buck over for a bit before he says, “I have it on good authority that Happy Trails Caravans are going to be doing some extensive salvaging in the area soon. And they are going to need some folks not afraid to get good and dirty pulling out equipment.”

The buck lifts his head and stares at him for a moment. His face screws up a bit before he says, “Happy Trails? I think I heard of them… They connected to those caravans coming down from Hoofington, aren’t they?”

Gearing nods. “There’s at least one I know of. A buck named Short Road is the caravan head for Bottlecap’s crew. But Happy Trails was down around here recently and I’m sure they’re going to need some new folks to help out.”

The buck looks at him for a moment before tilting his head. “Soooo… are you going to slap a collar on my neck or something?”

Gearing’s eyes narrow as he snarls. “I fucking hate slavers…”

The buck looks at him and recoils at first. But, after actually processing what Gearing had said, the buck actually grins. “Well, you can’t be all bad then.”

Gearing points off towards Megamac. “Keep your nose clean. Get some steady work. And don’t make me regret letting you go here. Trust me as I’m trusting you right now. I’m not a pony to be trifled with and I’ve held grudges longer than life times. I’m giving you a golden bit opportunity here for a second chance. But, if I find out you’re shitting me, and I find you slaving or raiding, you’re going to get far worse than anypony here. Understand me?”

The buck pushes himself up, resting on his hindknees as he waves his forehooves around. “No, no, I get it! You don’t have to threaten me. Hell, you probably saved me from these assholes… I’ve got no grudge against you… Anything else you want to know from me?”

Gearing stares at him for a few moments before casually resting a forehoof on the table near them and leaning against it. “How many were working under this commander of theirs?”

The buck responds quickly. “Three dozen. Easy. Maybe forty. But from what I’d heard earlier, eight had been killed in the warehouse ambush. So that had them rather jumpy as that was a good portion of their forces.”

Gearing frowns as he says, “Shit, you mean to tell me I’ve still got almost half of them to deal with?”

The buck’s eyes go wide before he says, “You’ve already taken care of half?” To this Gearing motions around him and he just nods. “Ah… right…”

Gearing holds up his hoof again. “And, also, if you hear anything about raider or slaver activities… get word to a trading caravan and the guards at Megamac… They’ve become a de facto grapevine I use to find out problems that need dealing with.”

The buck waves around them as he asks, “That how you find out about this place? Because they hit that caravan?”

Gearing shakes his head. “Nope… they were under my radar… until they shot at me and my friends and knocked one out of the air… Kinda can’t just ignore that kinda shit either…”

The buck nods slowly before he says, “There was a bit of an argument about that… And a few may have deserted because they were sure some pegasi were going to come back for revenge and blast us into the ground from the sky…”

Gearing smirks. “Well, guess they were right…” He looks around a bit before he asks, “Would you be willing to go to Megamac now, and tell them what you know about these assholes? I know their guard captain and am pretty sure he’d be willing to overlook your association with them if you explain everything.”

The buck nods a few times. “Sure. Getting there’s going to be a bit of a pain though. Especially with these guys scattered out and the commander not holding their leash anymore…”

Gearing tilts his head and grins. “How about a direct line escort?”

The buck stares at him and his eyes widen a bit. “You mean you would take me there?”

Gearing nods. “You stay here. Get your stuff together and-” He looks around after suddenly stopping speaking for a few moments. “You can take a few things, but, sorry, I’m not letting you take all these weapons. I’m sure they’re worth a lot. But the last thing I need is for all of this to get back into their hooves. They got quite the arsenal here. And the less of those kinds of ponies that have this kind of stuff the better.”

The buck nods as he points at the bags. “They were telling me to pack stuff up so we could bug out. I wasn’t going to try and take any of that shit. If it were me, I’d have grabbed a bag of food, a rifle, and already been out the door.” He points over to the side at one of the corpses. “But she said we had to grab it or they’d just shoot me anyway if I didn’t help.”

Gearing nods and waves it away. “Well, you get ready to go. I’ll be back in a bit once I clear the area. Then we’ll head to Megamac and I’ll see if I can get any information on where the rest of these creeps might have gone. I doubt this is over. But, would be nice.”

The buck climbs up and starts walking away, leaving the bag he’d been packing right where it’d laid. “I’ll go get my things. Didn’t come here with much. But I’ll be here when you get back.”

Gearing nods and waves it away as he leaves.

Half an hour later Gearing returns to the miniature armory carrying a minigun. He has a few fresh scuff marks on him, and a few bits of blood and fur on a couple spots where some of the fighting got close and personal. He sets the minigun onto the table in a clear spot where a bunch of the smaller weapons had been removed before he killed most of the ponies doing the clearing out.

The buck he’d left alive sits in a chair against the wall, away from the corpses, with a duffle bag next to him and an old varmint rifle leaning against the wall with the bag. It’s old, and well used, but it also seems well taken care of which is something Gearing can appreciate. He’s changed out of the oily looking jumpsuit uniform that he had been wearing, and is now wearing a more simple set of clothes with a plaid shirt and leather jacket.

Gearing looks over at him and nods out towards the front. “Well, I tracked down and removed every red bar my EFS could find in the entire complex. Damn did you guys have a radroach infestation.”

The buck laughs before he nods. “Yeah… to be fair, I’m pretty sure a couple of them were raising the damn things. Every time I turned around one of them was making roach meat snacks… Cheap protein he’d say… I never had the stomach for the stuff…”

Gearing nods and starts looking over the variety of equipment still laid out. “Well, on top of the little crawlers, I managed to scratch ten more off the employment register. Were much easier to find with all the other red markers not clogging up the indicators.”

The buck points off to the side towards the area where the stairwell down is. “You ready to go?”

Gearing nods and motions for him to head on. “Head downstairs. There’s nothing to give you a problem now. Meet me at the ground floor front doors. I’ll be there in a couple minutes. There’s something else I want to check.”

The buck get up, throws his bag and rifle over his back, and leaves quickly without asking any more questions.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head stares after him as he ponders, ‘Think he’s for real, or just saying whatever he can to save his own hide?’

Gearing replies back, “Either or. But he gave me a lot of good information. As long as he doesn’t stir up more shit, he’s of no concern of mine. But if he does, I’ll have to track his ass down.”

The little pegasus shrugs as he says, ‘He’s lucky his marker went yellow when it did. Or he’d be getting mighty cold about now…’

‘I mean, he was pretty inept with weapons in general,’ the little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head comments.

“Yeah, I was curious about that. I skipped him over because I saw his weapon didn’t even have a magazine in it. So I dealt with the actual threats. And by time I brought the gun around to take him out, he’d already had a change of mind… lucky him.”

Gearing sweeps the weapons and a few other things into the bags that were already laid out. Piles of grenades. Land mines. Ammo of various types. All of the firearms. It ends up filling eight full duffle bags worth. The armor laying around would probably fill a few more, but right now he wants to make sure weapons are out of certain ponies hooves. Especially a few that he notices are of the magical variety. And the fact that he’s seeing so much of the one type of magical ammo, but not the weapon that goes with it, really concerns Gearing.

He quickly grabs the bags, loads himself down, and flies up to the gang commander’s corpse. He checks the table that they had been looking over, and notices all of the maps and general information that had been laid out on top of it. He takes a few moments to study what’s there, and then grabs all of the papers and stuffs them in one of the duffle bags that’s full of long guns. But, before he leaves, he notices a holster on the commander. His armor looks pretty well maintained too. But, he’ll have time for fishing that all out later. For now he grabs the weapon from the commander, and his eyes go wide as he sees it up close.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ the little golden pony in Gearing’s head asks.

As Gearing manipulates it in real space, the little blue pegasus flies around and looks at it from a variety of angles as he points out different things about it. ‘It is! It’s a MPD, Magical Plasma Defender. It’s like a magical plasma pistol, but modified so much that it’s barely in the same category anymore. Its generation channel causes it to typically do more damage to similarly armored targets versus the pistol variant. That frontal focus array makes it far more accurate than the pistol’s questionable system is capable of, meaning its threat range reliably increases to include medium ranged distance targets. It doesn’t cause cascading effects as often as the pistol variant though, so it doesn’t gooify as often as a result. A fact I’m actually thankful for. However, its capacitor array and heat dissipation upgrades mean its rate of fire is at least double that of the standard magical plasma pistol. And as if all of that wasn’t enough, it has an onboard system that makes it work in tandem with SATS enabled equipment, meaning it uses far less of a SATS charge to use the weapon. It really is an amazing piece of machinery.’

Gearing’s lip on the left side lifts a bit in disgust as he’s looking at it. “Yeah, it’s all that and a bag of algae chips. But it still gooifies targets. Makes identification damn near impossible, and there’s a chance you lose any salvageable equipment in the process too… unless you hit them right and they just turn to jelly inside of the suit and then you have that nightmare to deal with that you’ll never truly feel is clean enough regardless of how much you scrub the equipment.”

The little golden pegasus in his head watches them both ramble on about it for a while before raising a hoof. ‘Uhm, excuse me, I have a question… where the fuck did this bastard get something like this? This wasn’t exactly a standard issue found everywhere kind of thing?’

‘“Good question,”’ the two reply simultaneously.

“No idea where he could have found it,” Gearing admits.

‘Mine now,’ the little blue pegasus adds flatly. ‘We’ll at least keep it out of other pony hooves.’

Gearing slowly turns it over as he looks at it. The weapon in question is a type that would need the ammo that he’d found earlier but couldn’t find a use. But now he has a use. And he’s not a fan of it. For a variety of reasons. On some level these things have always creeped him out.

‘No glowing pony jelly, please,’ the little golden pegasus says with a look of disgust twisting his muzzle.

Gearing quickly takes the holster too, puts the weapon back in it, then puts them into the duffle. There’s a lot here that he’s going to need to sort through. And he’s sure there’s a treasure trove of information. But, it’s barely midday and he still has several of these murdering bandits he needs to track down. But he has some leads at least, so he’s less grumpy than he would be normally. After securing that as well, he flies out of the building, and up on top of it. He uses his tools, cracks open the metal casing around the vent stacks and cooling cans that are set up on the roof, and begins stuffing the duffle bags into the empty space around the massive blades that are inside. He hadn’t seen a way up here from the sides nor inside of the building. And the roof didn’t look like something they’d used often, if ever. So the only concern he has about someone getting to this right now would be if any pegasi happened to see what he was doing and came down to investigate. But, even if some did come and run off with his loot, he’d still be okay with that. Better up there than down here he figures.

He quickly resecures the metal sheeting back where it’s supposed to be, before running over to the edge and jumping off the side. As he’s falling he keeps looking off into the distance towards Megamac. He’s pretty sure he’d seen a couple red markers disappear in that direction, without him being the cause. And given everything else going on, he’s pretty sure they just managed to go so far that way that they’d gotten out of range of his PipBuck’s EFS system. After getting down to the second floor, he flares out his wings, circles around, and comes to a sudden landing at the front door of the building. Inside he sees the buck standing by the welcome desk and looking out casually. Gearing walks in, avoiding the couple bodies that are near the door, and looks him over. Gearing motions outward with his head as he says, “Come on. Let’s get to it. The sooner we go the sooner you can get things sorted out at Megamac and I can get back to tracking down the others that had managed to get away.”

The buck quickly trots out with him, walking around the bodies and not even looking at them along the way. Once outside he looks over at Gearing and asks, “Well, which way are we going? You’re the one leading this trip.”

Gearing points off to the southwest and says, “You know your way to Megamac?” The buck nods. So Gearing continues, “Then just start heading that way. I’ll keep an eye out and see what I can see. If anything goes down just take cover and wait for me to handle it. Okay?”

The buck nods and starts fast trotting away towards the front of the complex. “You’re the boss.”

Gearing watches him walk away for a bit before taking flight, and going up high into the air again. He keeps looking at where the buck is going, and watches as he picks a rather peculiar path. But, as he’s watching, he can’t help but notice that it looks like it’s going in the right general direction. He circles around a bit, going way out in a variety of directions as he tries to pick up sight of anyone that might have made it away from the manufacturing complex. It’s true that they most likely won’t be able to be as effective as they were without their leaders. But he’s very much aware that grudges can develop this way. Even if it was their own fault for things going down the way they did. They shot first. They didn’t know who they were shooting at. They obviously didn’t care. But they certainly didn’t comprehend the consequences of being so frivolous with their actions. But, this way, he can be pretty sure that they won’t go out of their way to try and get back at him, along with Swift, Handy, and the rest of the stable. Not to mention being a proven threat to any and every other pony in existence it seems.

They are solidly on his shit list and he intends to scratch that clean.

But, one thing that he realizes is that they were very well aware that who they were picking a fight with were pegasi. So he grudgingly comes to the conclusion that anyone that managed to get away, would be very much aware that they would be targeted from the air. And, because of that, are most likely going to take extra precautions to avoid being so easily spotted. A fact that really annoys Gearing as he was hoping to have this done by mid afternoon so he can get back and check on Handy and Swift.

Not to mention his growing desire to grab some cuddle time with his marefriend. Sable’d declared he now has a snuggle mode, and he intends on engaging it and proving her right as soon as he’s back home to her. A pleasant thought that puts a smile on his face as he’s flying through the air and searching for any threats.

As he’s circling and watching the buck far below, he sees him walking through an area with many collapsed homes and a few that look like they used to be smaller businesses. They aren’t completely flattened rubble, but they certainly wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice for residence. Or fifth choice for that matter. And what draws Gearing’s attention the most is the fact that the buck comes to a sudden halt. And as Gearing is watching, the buck turns his head, not his body, and looks off to the side.

The little blue pegasus in his head comments, ‘Well, that’s a flag…’

* * *

Locke continues walking towards Megamac as he contemplates everything that’s happened lately. First the group he’d been with split up because several of them had disillusion of grandeur about becoming famous, and rich, bounty hunters. They heard about the bounty up in Hoofington and rushed off to try and make their fortune that way. But Locke had been to Hoofington before. The trip both ways was hell. And he didn’t want any part of that. Even worse, he’s not really that good with most weapons. So it’d be a waste. Plus he’d have so much competition. On some level he expected it to have already been over, given how many ponies converged up there to try and get more money than they’d need in a lifetime. On some level he’s glad he didn’t go. If whoever that bounty was on is bad ass enough to avoid it for this long, with that many ponies after them, he’s pretty sure even if he made it over the mountains again they’d just see him as another notch on their guns. Then he got suckered into this ‘salvage’ operation group that turned out to be not much better than a group of well organized raiders. And when he’s just about to make himself scarce, before they ended up killing him too, he nearly gets killed by some crazy pegasus in a set of power armor out for revenge against the whole group.

He hangs his head as he moans quietly, “What fucked up luck I have… at least I’m alive…”

A few paces later he comes to a dead stop as he hears noise from the side, and a voice call out to him.

A buck walks out from the shadows near the rubble, and has a grin on their face as they stare right at him. A buck he recognizes. From the psychos he’d just gotten away from. And a moment later two other ponies step out from various locations in the same set of partially crumbling stores.

The first buck yells happily. “Well, heeey hey heeeeey… looky what we have here!”

The one mare of the group slinks a bit closer, staying near an overturned wagon as she looks at him. “Holy shit, you survived! I thought you were in the tower?”

The second buck comes out a bit behind Locke and comments, “You had time for a clothes change? How’d you manage that?”

Locke keeps looking at them, and notices, that all of their weapons are still pointed at him. Locke doesn’t move, except his head as he stares at them. “I was at the armory helping pack up gear. I went to grab some more bags, and when I came back I just had enough time to watch him finish slaughtering the others. But he must have not noticed me because he grabbed a long rifle, went to the window, and started shooting at folks trying to run away. I changed, grabbed my shit, and ran for it. Hoped it would make him overlook me as I ran away.”

The first buck snarls as he asks, “Wait, you had his back, and didn’t shoot him?!”

Locke keeps staring at him as he says, “All that would do is get me killed too. That armor he’s wearing, I don’t know what it’s made of, but nothing worked on him. To get through us he had to get through a minigun team, among others. Not even the commander was able to stop him. I don’t think anything short of that large cannon would work on him, and it’d have to be point blank at that.” He looks them over before he says, “Explains how he survived the ambush with armor piercing rounds long enough to kill the ones trying to kill him.”

The mare frowns as she looks around. “Well, shit. That makes a lot of sense… We barely made it out ourselves. A few others went running in a couple different directions. The crew’s done. We’re done. We’re not going back there with that monster around.”

The second buck looks at her. “I said it was a mistake to start shooting pegasi. I said that. Didn’t I?! Why the hell doesn’t anyone listen to me?! We don’t want the kind of firepower the pegasi are capable of! Up there in their cozy ass clouds keeping all the sun to themselves, I bet they're getting fat off their crops!”

The first buck looks over at the second and snarls again. “Any pegasi under the clouds wouldn’t be part of the group up top. They got rules and shit. That’s why the commander cleared it. Shoulda been an easy turkey shoot.”

The mare comments, “You know, I’d heard about some crazy bastard picking fights with slavers. I wonder if it’s the same buck?”

Locke looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “Gold armor? Green wings that are enchanted or whatever to make them look like crystal?”

The mare’s jaw drops before she points at him. “That! Yeah. That’s what they were talking about in the tavern. I thought they were shitting me!”

Locke stares at her as he says, “Nope. I never heard of him. But if that’s the description, that’s the guy that wasted most of the crew in the tower. As far as I know, the only ones to make it out of the tower were me and the lieutenant. But I saw her get gunned down in the truck park area while I ran a different direction. By time I got away, I could still hear the shots in the distance.”

The first buck looks at him and grumbles about the whole situation. “Was a good thing going, and it only took one self righteous prick to fuck it all up?!”

The second buck scowls at him. “The heavy weapons crew shot at them! What’d you expect was going to happen!? Fuckers shoot at me, I generally shoot back too!”

The mare looks over at them and smiles bitterly. “Except this fucker came back after getting shot at… Twice… He’s not your normal buck. He’s got a vendetta.”

The first buck shakes his head then looks at Locke. He motions with his rifle at the bag Locke is carrying. “Well, whatever, what you got there? Weapons?”

Locke shakes his head. “Just the one rifle I joined up with. The rest of it was being watched by the pegasus. I couldn’t get anything from the armory without getting spotted, so I just got my stuff and got the hell out of the area.”

The buck smirks at him then waves the rifle at him. “Sure. Well, how about you empty out that bag right there. Nice and easy like.”

The second buck looks at him as he frowns. “Seriously? Just survives it and you’re already going to stick him up?”

The first buck snarls at him. “Buck you both! I don’t know him, he’s not been with the crew that long. For all I know he could have brought that fucker down on us!”

The mare looks over at the first buck and rolls her eyes. “Okay, that’s bullshit. Someone pissed him off by shooting at him and his friends. That’s it. If you’re going to rob somepony, don’t try and come up with some stupid ass reason to do it, just rob’em and get it over with.”

The second buck adds. “Yeah, it’s not like he needed to be sneaky… If they had our location to send in a plant, then they had the location to come in and wreck the place…” He waves it away with a hoof. “And given what he’s capable of, and what he did… yeah… he doesn’t need someone snooping around to find out our weakness… He just creates his own holes by blowing up half a fucking building or something…”

The first buck looks at him and rolls his eyes. “Those explosions were small, it wasn’t anywhere near half a building…” He looks back over to Locke and waves the end of his rifle at him again. “Hey, I wasn’t kidding about that bag. Lets see what you got…”

Locke lets out a sigh and nods. “Yeah, sure… but it’s just some food I managed to grab on the way out. Nothing really worth anything beyond that…”

The first buck smirks. “Well considering we only got out with what we had on us during patrol, that sounds like exactly what we need at the moment.”

Locke sets the bag down on the side, slowly. Then starts unzipping it. As he turns and starts tipping the bag over, towards them, he looks up at them, and his eyes go wide.

The buck in the center gets yanked up into the air by something Locke can’t see, but whatever it is is wrapped around his neck, judging by how his fur and flesh warped, and the stream of blood that starts coming down. Gearing lands in his position, with That Gun already pulled out at the ready. He tilts one way, with a bundle of wire wrapped around a forehoof, as he shoots the one buck still standing. The buck hadn’t even had time to register what was going on with his friend before several bullets riddle his lightly armored side and neck. Then Gearing spins the other way and glares at the mare.

The mare jumps back and rolls away as she screams. “Fuck, he followed us!” She rolls over trying to get her weapon out from under herself so she can shoot back, but as the barrel is wedged under her flank, the strap that she’d been using to carry it is keeping her from simply pulling it out from under herself. She needs to get off of the end first. But she doesn't get the chance before her head is greeted by a couple of rounds from Gearing. Gearing turns, looking the others over again, before looking at Locke.

Gearing waves his left forehoof at Locke as he asks, “Just these three? Did you see anymore?”

Locke looks at him. Then up in the air where the other buck is being hung by a bit of wire. And, eerily for him, the buck’s body moved up and down as Gearing waved his forehoof at him. Locke nods lightly as he says quietly, “Yeah… j-just these three…”

Gearing looks up, then drops the wire he has wrapped around his foreleg.

The first buck’s body comes slamming down, lifelessly, with his tongue hanging out and deep lacerations all the way around his neck. Gearing casually starts pulling the wire out of the buck as he says, “Man, these guys are something, aren’t they? You weren’t kidding about them just devolving into common raiders… Even robbing people they knew and were working with the same day…”

Locke closes his bag up and starts putting it on his back. But stops when Gearing waves at him.

Gearing quickly removes their various weapons, and a couple things from their bags. He doesn’t completely strip them down, but he takes most of what has value. Although most of it was weapons, and as he searched he didn’t find much in the way of food and only a single canteen of water among them.

Gearing drops the items at Locke’s hooves and comments. “Here. Put these in your bag. They’ll help get you started looking for a new job.”

Locke looks at him for a moment, then nods and quickly starts putting the various items into his duffle bag. “You sure about this? I mean, you’re the one that took them down.”

Gearing shakes his head. “I don’t do this for money. I’m just trying to solve problems.”

Locke snorts and looks over at the corpses. “Well… consider those three problems permanently solved, then, I guess.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. And then, after the buck has his bag replaced over his back, he asks, “You ever fly before?”
Locke looks at him, and tilts his head, “No, why?”

Footnote:

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Errors Discovered . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Author's Note

After cleaning house of the gang, Gearing doesn't think it's enough considering what they've done, so the hunt for stragglers begins. But he has no idea how widespread nor connected this group is.

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104 One Small Favor

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Under the bright warm sunlight shining down on an Equestrian military training outpost, Gearing is led up to a modified obstacle course by a sergeant as they speak about what the course is all about. He has the typical trainee uniform on, and the illusion that has been put on him to cover up his shiny metallic pelt is at least passing even if it does seem ‘just a bit off’ to most ponies if they stare at him long enough. He is paying attention to them as they walk, but none of what they are saying seems particularly interesting nor important to him at the moment. So Gearing is already mostly mentally checked out from the conversation as he goes over various plans in his head. Gearing suddenly comes to a stop and his head zips over towards the left where he sees a familiar cyan pegasus walk up in her sleek black insectoid like Shadowbolt armor. Sans helmet.

Gearing turns to her, gives a quick salute, and grins as he asks, “Commander! Good to see you. I wasn’t aware you’d be here for this exercise?”

Rainbow Dash directs her attention to him from the post commander, a two star general she’d been walking with, and nods her head as she smirks. “I told you I’d be keeping tabs on how you’re progressing. This was one that I particularly wanted to see myself.”

Gearing stands up straight and bobs his head. “Ma’am! I’ll do my best to not let you down!”

Dash grins as she looks sideways at the general standing next to her. “I certainly hope not… We’ve got a little bit of a wager going on to see how well you do.”

The post commander scowls at her and raises a hoof. “Hey, no giving the details… We’re not going to really find anything out if you are using your fame to alter the results.”

Dash waves it off with a roll of her eyes as well. “Oh please, I want to see him complete the mission as quickly as he can. And a little competition always helps stoke the fires.” And with that snap response the four walk the rest of the way to today’s challenge where others are already standing at attention and waiting for their turn to shine under the roof of an oversized gazebo.

The group of seven other trainees stand by as the major in charge of the course goes over the entire route, showing them the various obstacles that they have to go over, through, or figure out to get to their objective, using a simple spell to create the images in the air in front of all of them as she talks.

Just beyond the wooden gazebo roof where everyone’s standing is a set of tires laid out on the ground that provides the first obstacle. With the obvious intention being for ponies to run through it without getting tripped up. The next is a set of barbed wire in a mesh over a mud pit that the recruit crawls under and along the length, until getting to the far side of the pit to start jumping hurdles. The various sections on the course get more complicated as the marked path goes from one set to another as it curves all the way around in a circle, to the other side of a wooden wall behind the group and next to the gazebo. The major walks around the wall, and comes back with a metal brief case as she holds it aloft with their telekinetic field.

“So, once through all of that, grab the briefcase, then get back here and hit the buzzer again. Once you hit the buzzer, that will mark the end time of your run… Any questions?”

Gearing looks at the others, and none of them seem to be speaking up, so he raises a hoof himself and the major points at him. “Go ahead recruit, what’s your question?”

Gearing looks out at the other members of the squad set to go through the trial and asks, “Sorry, this is my first time going through this…” but before he can articulate his concerns, the major speaks up.

The major, anticipating a common set of questions, nods and points over toward the side as she says, “Not a problem, you can go last so the others can show you how it’s done. Anything else?”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “Just to make sure I understand the mission’s objectives…” He points over to the big red button on the steel girder sticking out of the ground and says, “Start by pressing the button…” He points at the suitcase the major is carrying in her levitation field and adds, “Get the suitcase as fast as I possibly can…” He points over at the button again. “And the exercise ends when I hit the button a second time, with the briefcase in my possession? Did I understand that correctly?”

The major nods. “That’s correct, recruit.”

“Whoa, hey!” the general yells above them all. She points a hoof at Gearing, then at Dash and says with an accusational tone, “He’s the only flier of the entire group! None of that flying nonsense. That’d be an unfair advantage!”

The major nods agreement and she looks at Gearing. “You heard the general. No flying… In fact… Don’t use your wings at all… No flying, no gliding, no using them to pull yourself along faster… Nothing. Do so and you’ll be disqualified and have to start all over again.”

Gearing frowns and tilts his head as he repeats, “So, hit the button, grab the case, hit the button again, but without using my wings to get me through any of the obstacles?”

The major nods. “That’s correct…” She looks around at the others and asks, “Any other questions?” After a few minutes of silence she points at the gray buck on the far right of the formation. “Grayhoof, you’re up first, the rest of you fall in line as he comes back and get ready for your turn.” She looks them over and puffs up a bit as she says, “Now, remember, we have both the post commander and the Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash here to observe your progress… do not disappoint me.” The tone of her voice as she finishes has a very clear final note of her meaning being ‘or you’ll regret it’.

All of them walk over to the banister and watch the gray buck walk over to the starting line and rear back and stretch as he rocks and gets ready to go. He actually takes a few steps back, and gets a running start, slapping the button with a hind hoof and actually using it to propel himself just that much further before his time really gets started and it doesn't take long before he is swimming through mucky dirty water and running through the obstacle course.

Gearing watches with interest, as one after another the other members of the group take their turn on the obstacle course. After the third pony has already started he walks away from the banister and paces back and forth between the button and the wooden wall on the right side that separates the two rooms. The general looks over at him with disdain as he seems to have completely lost interest in the entire process. As he actually walks back out into the grass not far away from the gazebo he watches one of the trainees run up, grab the suitcase, and turn around to go back through the obstacle course. A little later they show up on the other side, hit the button, and pass the suitcase off to the major as she’s congratulated on her new high score.

The major, as dutifully as ever, walks around the wooden wall, and sets the metal briefcase onto a wooden spindle that’s been overturned and is currently being used as an improvised table for this exercise.

Gearing watches the last few trainees do the exact same exercise, and as the last in line before him starts returning he starts walking back under the gazebo roof where the others are gathered.

The post commander looks at him with a grin and asks, “What? Finally decided to come back and look at what you were supposed to be doing? Or are you going to give up before you even started?”

Gearing looks at her in the face and says flatly, “I was just taking in where my objective was located… And in case you weren’t paying attention… it’s my turn now, General.”

She instantly scowls and Dash doesn’t even try to hide her own outburst of laughter.

Gearing walks over to the area where the button is and looks at the other muddy squadmates to see where they are.

“Today, soldier, we don’t have all day you know!” the general shouts with a scowl.

“Right,” Gearing says before he slaps the button. He looks up towards the rafter and watches as the little red lights on the simple display take on the shape of numbers counting down and he turns towards the other recruits and starts running. Straight at them. Causing all seven of them to have their eyes bug out at the sudden stampede directed at them.

As they are jumping out of the way, the general starts laughing and sits down as she points a hoof at him. “I hope you’re not planning on using him for navigation!”

The major yells as he’s passing her. “Whoa there! You’re going the wrong-”

She’s silenced, and indeed has to duck down and jump for cover, as do the others in attendance, as Gearing takes a running start toward the wooden wall, and jumps right towards it. But that’s not what causes them to hit the deck in fear of personal harm. The shards of wood that go flying in various directions as he goes hooves first through the wall, on the other hoof, is an entirely justified reason for their fear. Except for Rainbow Dash. She remains standing and simply rocks side to side as she dodges the fragments and only has to use her suit’s scorpion like tail one time to bat away an incoming shard that would have hit her in her face. She wanted to see what he could do, and has no intention of missing such a perfect opportunity to see one of her pet projects in action, so she’ll happily risk a new scar to keep her eyes on him.

The wall practically explodes as the small pegasus plows right through it with such inertia that he seems like he’s barely slowed down by the two by fours and plywood that make up the wall separating the two sides of the gazebo. He lands on the other side of the wall, tumbles with the fall, and spills over the wooden spindle, taking the spindle with him and launching it a distance into the training area, as he spins around and jumps back through the hole he made with the briefcase handle held firmly in his teeth. He comes through, almost like he’s flying, with his forehooves outstretched, but his wings are held firmly at his sides. He touches down with his forehooves on the ground, among the other trainees, just long enough for his hind legs to catch up and propel him the rest of the way to his destination. He slams into the pillar where the button is located, causing an ear shattering clang to echo out as the large I-beam actually dents from the impact. But, simultaneously he slams his forehoof onto the button, stopping the timer with a screech as it breaks under his not so gentle touch.

Gearing slides off of the I-beam, and holds the suitcase aloft with a forehoof as he looks up at the scoreboard, with the number flashing in the first placed position. “Seven seconds… how’s that?”

The major lifts herself up off the floor and doesn’t even bother dusting herself off before screaming out, “What the hell was that!?”

Gearing looks at her, then shakes the briefcase at her. “My mission parameters were to retrieve the briefcase as quickly as possible, without using my wings, with the starting and ending position being indicated by the button.” He taps on the sparking button with the briefcase as he grins at her. “Soooo… mission accomplished?”

The general points at Gearing and screams, “That’s cheating! You’re not allowed to do that!”

Dash leans over, with a massive grin on her muzzle, as she wiggles her eyebrows at her. “Actually… you never said he couldn’t do that.” She waves it away with a hoof and gives her a smug grin. “He explicitly asked the parameters, twice.” She looks over at the major and grins even wider as she waves her own fabric covered wings at her. “And he didn’t use his wings either…”

The general holds her forehooves to her cheeks before throwing them out at the still falling pieces of wood around the gazebo. “He fucking wrecked the place!”

Dash waves it away again and smirks. “Eh… it’s nothing to worry about, it can be fixed.” She hops in the air and flutters around as she giggles. “He still won…” She lands by sitting down hard and rubs her forehooves together greedily as she licks her lips and looks at the general. “So, about my prize!?”

The general scowls and points a hoof at the hole in the wall. “We’re not even going to talk about that until we sort out how this is going to get fixed!”

Dash looks at her and scrunches up her muzzle a bit before she looks over at the offending pegasus in question. “Gearing… you know anything about woodworking?”

Gearing shrugs. “No. Not really.”

“Think you can have this fixed for me by tomorrow?”

Gearing drops the briefcase and starts walking away from the gazebo as he says, “Ma’am, yes ma’am… I just gotta stop by the quartermaster and get a few supplies. Maybe some nails and wonder glue… and grab a book on carpentry. I’ll get right on it, ma’am.”

Dash gives a firm nod and shoos him away with an armored hoof daintily. “You do that… I’ll check back tomorrow to make sure it’s done correctly.”

Gearing spins around and salutes her as he says, “Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am, Rainbow Dash, ma’am.” Then he actually flies off towards the quartermaster’s office.

Dash turns around with a grin at the general and asks, “Soooo… about my prize? Now that that’s been settled?”

The general waves a hoof in the general direction where Gearing just disappeared too. “You can’t really expect me to believe that greenhorn, who just admitted he doesn’t know squat about what he’s doing, will have that fixed in the morning!”

Dash nods. “You’re right, he’ll probably have it done tonight.”

The general limply hangs her forehoof as she asks with an eyebrow raised, “How can you be so confident in him like that?”

Dash leans towards her and smiles as she points towards the hole in the wall. “Because, so far, he’s proven that he’s able to get whatever mission or task assigned to him done far quicker than most even think about it. He’s already devoted and goal oriented, and I can’t wait to see what he's really capable of after getting some proper training.”

One of the recruits, still cowering on the floor, looks up at Rainbow Dash and asks, “Ma’am, how’d he blast through that wall like that? I didn’t see him discharge any weapons, ma’am. I didn’t see him even carrying any weapons.”

Dash, the general, and the major, all, simultaneously, look at her and say flatly, “That’s classified.”

She looks between them and then lets out a sigh as she covers her face with her forehooves, “Little creep blew my record out of the water…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing can’t help thinking back to the earliest months of his training during the war. When things were undefined for him and tasks were just vague enough to get away with things. And, to be perfectly honest with himself, he knows he actually preferred it that way. Just vague enough to work. No malicious compliance required. Most of the time anyway. His little habit of making sure to win had grown him quite a few fans. Especially Rainbow Dash, who happened to love his little motto he’d quote to her when given hard to impossible tasks and how he planned to succeed.

‘Win, cheat if you have to,’ the little blue pegasus in his head parrots his past thoughts happily.

‘Kinda gets hard not to at a certain point,’ the little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head admits.

‘It’s why we’re banned from card games,’ the little blue pegasus says with a giggle and a shrug.

Speaking of, it’s time to finish up this little game of hide and seek, Gearing mentally replies to his head companions.

Locke was not prepared for Gearing to hop over, grab him, and take off with him. The speed at which they ascended made Locke dizzy and he quickly clamped down onto Gearing’s forelegs. It was a strange sense for him. Like falling, but in reverse. But, after a few moments, and when he managed to finally stop screaming, he actually started enjoying it.

Locke stretches out his neck and leans into the breeze coming from Gearing flying as he takes in the air.

“Enjoying the trip?” Gearing asks with more than a bit of amusement in his voice.

“Things look so much different from up here… like… smaller… It’s weird…”

Gearing nods. “Yeah, really gives you a new perspective on things, doesn’t it?”

“Plus the breeze is nice. And it’s without getting sand thrown in your face. So that’s something I wouldn't mind more often either.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t use to be a problem outside of the Badlands and a few other natural deserts. Now you can’t really look anywhere without there being some kinda dusty disaster…”

Locke nods and he looks where they are heading as he asks, “So we just skipping everything else and going straight to Megamac?”

Gearing starts cutting altitude as he replies, “I want to check in with Pile Driver and the others. Things need to get sorted out so we can clean up the mess. You were right about them just going and doing their own thing. But that just means they’re desperate, and desperate ponies with no morals can do some really fucked up things. So I’m going to try and make sure others know about them. They’ve had enough troubles with raiders around here without adding even more to them.”

Gearing comes down and lands not far from the front gate, and slowly looks over the entrance. The small bunkers that had been made when that last group of raiders got full of themselves are still standing. And, Gearing notices, there’s even a few fresher pock marks in them. But, even so, the guards are on duty and they seem rather relaxed as they are standing out and in the open again.

Which, to Gearing, is a good sign as it means they aren’t under constant torment anymore. At least not in the day.

Gearing drops Locke onto the ground and flutters closer to the gates before he lands. He waves a wing as he grins. “Hey, Pile Driver, looking good! How’s it going? I see you’re back on your hooves.”

Pile Driver starts walking forward as he says, “Well if it isn’t Fi-,” he looks around and then smirks, “You!… Hey… How are you doing? Iron Hoof not with you today?”

Gearing shakes his head. “No. We ran into a problem. Some dumb asses thought shooting her husband was a good idea, so we’re dealing with that.”

Pile Driver’s eyes go wide before he asks, “Iron Hoof’s husband!? Is he okay?”

Gearing frowns as he says, “He was in rough shape. But we managed to get him to where he can get treatment in time. I left them there while I went hunting. Speaking of which, have you had anyone coming through wearing coveralls that are all dusty and dirty? Or smell like machinery that’s let its oil get burnt? More fidgety and nervous than normal? Possibly watching the sky a lot? Today I mean?”

Pile Driver raises his head and rubs his chin with a forehoof as he thinks about it. “I don’t think so. I’ve been here all day too. I remember a couple like that coming by before over this past week, but nopony like that’s been here today.”

Gearing nods and points towards the door. “Well, I’ll run inside real quick, talk to the folks at Crater Side, and see if anyone’s got any leads for me. We’re really looking to take these fuckers down.” He snorts and looks off to the side. “Got the bigger fish, but the smaller rats ran off.”

Locke steps up next to Gearing and points at Pile Driver. “Is this the buck you wanted me to talk to?”

Gearing nods and waves between the two. “Pile Driver, this is Locke. Locke, this is Pile Driver, he’s in charge of security around here. Tell him everything you know about the gang and we’ll figure out where to go from there.” He looks at Pile Driver and nods back inside. “You’re probably going to want to do that inside, it’s going to be a bit. And might help explain some things with any caravans you’ve had go missing.”

Pile Driver snarls and turns around as he waves at the others. “Open the damn door. We’re going in.” As the large gate’s opening he looks at Locke. “Come on. We’ll talk in my office. And anything we can confirm, we’ll pay you for the information.”

Locke looks between them for a moment before nodding and starting to head into Megamac.

Gearing grabs Pile Driver’s shoulder and pulls him just a bit with his wing. After Pile Driver is looking at him, Gearing says quietly, “He was working for them for a bit. I’m pretty sure he just got suckered into it, and was a practical -if not literal- slave. Hell, a couple from the crew that managed to get away stopped long enough to try and rob him on the way here… So I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on. So keep that in mind when he tells you everything he knows, okay?”

Pile Driver nods as he looks around. “I hear ya. I won’t just give him the raider treatment. Thanks.”

Gearing heads inside and while those two head off towards Pile Driver’s office, Gearing takes flight again and flies straight to Crater Side tavern.

Gearing flies over the central ring where he can see, from the dried blood in the dirt, that a few bouts have been fought recently. And while trying to ignore that ridiculousness, Gearing heads to the doors for the tavern next to it. He walks straight in through the double wooden doors, and then turns over to the bar counter. It being this time of day, it’s not nearly as busy as it would be at night. Most ponies are more active during the day, using the daylight hours to get their business taken care of before trying to relax at night, after all.

A fact that history buffs will point out is one of the main reasons Luna got so jealous and shitty to the point of turning into a literal monster: Nightmare Moon.

The few patrons that are in the tavern seem more busy and interested in trying to eat their meals and drink their drinks than paying attention to who comes in through the door. And as Gearing gets to the counter, the waitress comes from the far end and asks, without even really looking up, “What can I get ya for?”

Gearing looks around the tavern tables before asking, “I’m looking for some ponies. They tend to wear uniforms from a factory. Noticeable from the coal soot, metal fragments, and oily stench that you can’t cover up. Sorta a grayish blue… Probably were just blue until all of the dirt and grime and color fading…”

The mare lets out a sigh as she’s organizing some glasses under the counter. “Uh huh… And what’d these folks do? I doubt friends of yours judging by how you're describing them.” A moment later she mutters, “Would be nice if ponies ordered before demanding information…”

Gearing keeps staring at her for a few moments, waiting for her to look up, before he says, “They’re part of a gang that’s been targeting caravans. And they just shot Iron Hoof’s husband, so we’re tracking them down…”

The mare’s head jumps up and asks with her jaw hanging open. “They shot Handy?!”

The bar comes to a dead silence as those that had been eating also suddenly turn to look at the outburst.

Gearing nods. “Yeah. And, he’s not good. But, he’s doing better than the assholes we got a hold of so far. We’re just trying to track down the rest of them… Probably a dozen or less left…”

The mare blinks a few times as she tries to focus on Gearing, but her eyes keep jumping to the side as she sees another buck walking up. “I- I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anypony like that lately. Ummm I think a group came in here like a week… Maybe two weeks ago? They were recruiting for some kind of salvage operation, but … I don’t think they’re the same folks you’re looking for?” She ends with a questioning tone as she seems far more willing to help now that she understands the situation better.

Gearing nods as he says, “Yeah, that’s them. The salvage operation was just a front. They’d been hitting caravans too.”

The mare scowls as she looks around. “Well, fuck! I hope you get them all.” She starts tapping on the counter with her forehooves, and then starts tapping on the side of her head. “Think think think… no… That’s it… That’s all I can think of… Their stink did kinda stick out… That and that sweet talking buck that seemed to be in charge of them… But, I haven’t seen them since then.” She drops her hooves and frowns. “I’m sorry.”

Gearing shakes his head and says, “That’s okay, I’ll keep looking and asking around. We really need to deal with them.” He motions towards the front. “Pile Driver’s already in the process of getting more information from a witness. If you see any of them, send someone to inform the guards. Those ponies are as cutthroat as they come and I wouldn’t put anything past them. Okay? Don’t confront them unless you’re going to just blow their head off and ask questions later.”

The mare grins as her horn glows. A massive shotgun comes from behind the counter as she looks at Gearing. “Oh, I can do that. Anypony that messes with Iron Hoof is asking for a flank kicking…”

Gearing laughs and starts looking around towards the others as he tries to see if anyone else looks like they might have some information. “Leave it to a bartender to have a shotgun behind the counter. Well... Stay safe.”

As Gearing is looking around at the few other patrons around in the tavern, A buck walks over slowly to him coming from the door. Gearing had noticed him come in while he was talking to the barmaid, but he’d stood off to the side and just stared at him while they were talking. But, now that they aren’t talking, the buck seems to have worked up the courage to come and talk to him.

The grimy white buck walks a bit closer as he asks, “Uh… excuse me…”

Gearing turns to look at him. “Yeah?”

“M-my name’s Chert.” The dirty white buck looks Gearing over and swallows hard before he glances around quickly at the others in the tavern. He leans in a bit closer to Gearing as he says, “I-I need some help.”

Instantly Gearing’s mood sours. Gearing looks at him and sighs as he says, “If it’s money you need, I’m not carrying any. If you need me to fix something, it’s going to have to wait. I’m in the middle of something else now but after I deal with this problem I’ll be glad to help you with whatever you need me to fix.”

The buck screws up his face a few times as he tries to think of what he should say. Then he asks quietly, “You’re looking for some bucks in dirty blue jumpsuits… right?”

Gearing’s ears jump towards him as he gives the buck his undivided attention. “Yes. I am.” Gearing leans towards him as he asks in a similar hushed tone, “You know where some of them are?”

The buck nods quickly, but then points back to the door. “C-can we talk outside? Please?”

Gearing nods and starts heading towards the front door, and the buck quickly leads the way, even holding the door open for Gearing. Once they’re outside, the buck looks around, and seems really nervous before he crosses the road and walks up to the ring. He stands by the ring, resting against it by holding onto the top rail with his forehooves, as he looks back at Gearing.

Gearing walks up to him at the gate and can see the rather haggard look on him. “Okay, we’re away from everyone else.” He looks around and sees that most ponies aren’t even out and about around here at the moment. Probably all taking a break or busy working by his judgment.

The pony nods and holds onto the railing more as he takes in a deep breath. He says quietly as he’s looking down, “I know where a group of them are. I can take you there.”

Gearing shakes his head. “No. That’s okay. Just tell me where they are, and I’ll go take care of them. No reason to risk yourself.”

The buck looks at him and frowns. “They’re in an area that’s hard to get to. I was prospecting there when I saw them. Buncha evil sonsabitches… If you’re not careful they’ll know your coming and then they’ll scatter and we’ll all have to deal with the consequences. So it’ll just be faster if you go with me. I’ll show you the back passages and you can corner them.”

‘Wow, that’s some unmasked pure hatred there. I wonder what these fuckers did to him? Rob him too like they tried Locke?’ the little blue pegasus asks as he stares at Chert.

Gearing looks at Chert for a moment before he asks, “Where are they hiding?”

The buck nods a bit before looking at the ground. “We need to go to an old mining company. If we go through the industrial complex near it, we’ll be able to sneak in and not have to worry about them spotting us.”

Gearing nods along as he thinks it through, but then asks, “Okay. Sure. How soon can you go?”

The buck looks at him, and relief seems to spread across his face as he lets out a gush of air. “Now. I can go now.”

Gearing looks him over, and notices that he’s not carrying anything other than his ratty clothes. Gearing shakes his head as he says, “Pack something for the trip. Don’t need you dying of dehydration or something along the way… Can you do that, or do you need me to come up with something for you?”

The buck shakes his head and starts walking away. “I’ll go get a bag. Meet me at the front gate? Please? Promise?” His tone is so painfully obvious that Gearing can practically hear the buck on his knees begging.

Gearing nods and heads off towards the front gate for town. “I’ll wait for you outside the front gate. The sooner we get going the sooner we can get back. I’ll meet you there.” Gearing spreads his wings and takes off as the buck waves at him and then quickly scurries off on his own task.

About five minutes later the front gate opens and the dirty white buck stands there looking out with worry carved into his features, but then his face lightens up when he sees Gearing. He doesn’t even wait for the gate to open all of the way before he starts running over to Gearing. “Okay. Let’s go! They’re off this way!” And then after that declaration he turns and starts heading north almost immediately from the gate.

Gearing trots along, then asks, “Are you going to be okay at this pace? You’re going a bit fast.”

The buck shakes his head as he casts off the implications. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to walking fast. It’s helped get me out of a lot of places that things trying to eat me are hiding in.” He looks at Gearing and smiles. “Hazards of being a prospector.”

Gearing nods and keeps going along with him. Eventually he just takes flight and flies along as the speed was a bit much for Gearing to keep up with short of actually running.

But, despite what the buck had said, after only half an hour the buck is already panting and wheezing and Gearing actually lands near Chert and makes him stop. “Buck, come on. I get that you probably want some payback on these assholes. But getting yourself killed in the process from dehydration and exhaustion isn’t going to help anyone. Save your energy. You might need it to run away after we get there.”

Chert looks at him for a moment, and panic seems to spread across his face. But then he bites his lips and hangs his head. He nods a few times, and pulls out a bottle of water. Though, regardless of how much he’s sweated, and how thirsty he must be, he very gingerly sips on the water. Only taking a few barely mouth watering sips before recapping it and putting it back into his small satchel. He sits there for a few moments, gathering his breath, but, after his breathing has slowed down to no longer be deep pants, he gets back up and starts walking. “Okay, I’ve rested, let’s go.”

Gearing flies after him and looks at him as he narrows his eyes. “Buck, I’m tired of burying corpses. Slow down. We’ll deal with it, trust me.”

The buck looks at him and actually snaps back. “We need to hurry though, or we’ll lose them!”

Gearing frowns and then lands in front of him. “Fine. If you’re in that much of a hurry to see them get their comeuppance, then I’ll just fucking carry you, alright?”

Chert stares at him for a moment before he asks, “Carry?”

Gearing suddenly grabs the buck without warning and quickly takes flight.

The buck is so startled that he doesn’t even scream. He’s paralyzed. And not moving a muscle as they fly along about ten feet off the ground.

Gearing comments, “No screaming. No flailing. Just try to relax and tell me where to go. I’ll set you back down once we get to the area and you can show me the back way in after that, sound fair?”

The buck looks at the ground, stunned by the scenery zipping by under him before he asks, “Think this’ll work?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah, you aren’t the first pony I’ve carried today… Not even the second… or third now that I think about it…”

The buck points in the direction they are already going and says, “Keep going until you start seeing the tall stacks. You’ll know you’re getting close when you can see the one really tall one near the one that’s broken in half. After that we’ll need to swing around to the right more to get into the work area and keep the industrial complex between us and the mining company…”

True to the description, Gearing sees it, but a bit before the buck does. And as he’s already changing directions the dirty buck asks, “Where are you going, it’s that way?”

Gearing smirks as he says, “Yeah, and I can see the top of the stack. You said to come around it from a different angle, so that’s where I’m heading.”

Chert looks over and he starts seeing the smokestacks in the distance as Gearing has cut altitude and started swinging around. “Oh. Wow… It is easier to see from a distance up here, isn’t it?”

Gearing nods and aim’s towards the ground fast. And as they are getting closer and closer, and the buck sees the ground coming up at them, he starts getting a bit more nervous. Chert waves a forehoof gently as he asks, “A-aren’t we coming down a bit too fast?”

“Nope,” Gearing replies flatly. And, after almost landing on the roof of a crumbling building, Gearing angles his wings a bit differently and instead glides over it. Then continues on until he comes to the side of where the industrial complex that the buck has been pointing at is. Gearing touches down behind the remnants of an old bar, with half the second floor falling down leaving them standing on a pile of rubble that's mostly bricks and empty beer bottles. He lets the buck go as he asks, “You okay? Seemed a bit shaky there at the end?”

Chert gently starts stepping on the bricks. Then starts stomping on them. Then he quickly scrambles down and starts walking around on the dirt covered brick patio that’s under most of the rubble from where the building has fallen down. “I don’t know how you can get used to that. Being in the air is interesting, but it just feels so…”

“Unnatural?” Gearing offers.

The buck looks up at him in shock and points a hoof at him. “Yeah, that! You feel it too?”

Gearing shrugs. “Nope. Not at all. I’ve just heard it so often from earth ponies that it’s a running joke at this point.”

The buck frowns as he says, “I don’t think ponies should be flying… Doesn’t make sense.”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Hey, we built machines to help other ponies fly too.”

Chert shakes his head. “I’ll pass on those as well.”

Gearing snickers as he looks around. “So… about those gangers in the blue jumpsuits?”

The dirty buck stares at him for a moment, and takes in a deep breath. “Yeah… t-this way.” He turns and walks a bit away from him, and the rubble of the mostly fallen down bar. He continues down an alley between a couple other mostly intact buildings, with Gearing following close behind him.

Gearing stays not far from him as he asks, “Did you happen to see many of them? Were there a lot?”

The dirty buck shrugs as he says, “L-like… a few? Not a whole lot… Less than a dozen, I’m sure… Maybe half a dozen?”

Gearing nods as he looks around, flicking on his EFS every now and then just to keep a general idea of where some troublesome things might be located. “Could you tell what they were doing? Did they look like they were looking to stay a while or just passing through?”

As they are getting closer to the mostly collapsed manufacturing building that, at one time, was just a massive box, Chert comments, “I’m … I’m pretty sure they were staying. They have a place inside the mine. Like, a hideout or something. Maybe this is where they came to set up a new base?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “I don’t know about that. They might have set up a second outpost out here so they wouldn’t draw attention to their main camp. Their boss seemed like a smart buck with big plans. So I wouldn’t doubt it…”

The buck nods and leads the way to the building. Close to the exterior wall they find a spot where a piece of equipment that had collapsed inside the building knocked out a part of the wall and created an access point in the process. And, Gearing can tell, these walls were more of the sheet metal variety. Quickly thrown up with metal beams and then sheet metal bolted, welded, or straight screwed onto the framework. Not the sturdiest of materials, but let them make areas to work inside and out of the weather quickly. But, even at a glance, Gearing can see how the weather has been very unkind to the building’s materials. Whatever condition it was in when it was put together, whatever treatment it received before construction, they certainly didn’t take into consideration two hundred years of neglect and a balefire end of the world event.

The dirty buck heads in through a gap between the equipment, the collapsed wall, and the pile of rubble that’s strewn around the place. And Gearing quickly follows him in. Gearing can already see a variety of red bars here and there and, with it becoming more evident that the EFS isn’t helping as much as distracting, he goes ahead and turns it off again. He gets closer to the buck and asks, “Got a lot of bugs in here?”

Chert looks at him for a few seconds before shrugging and then nodding. “About as much as any other place… Most of them seem to be minding their own business. But if they see you, they’ll try to nip your butt… Just step on them, nothing to worry about…”

Gearing nods as he looks around and starts flexing his ears around regularly as they advance through the clutter of various decrepit machines. He asks quietly, “You sure they’re not in this area? We shouldn’t move too fast.”

The buck shakes his head and points further ahead. “Whatever it is that they’re guarding or want is in the mines. They haven’t paid much attention to this, as far as I can tell. And the sooner we get there the sooner we can get this over with…”

Gearing walks along next to him and keeps looking back and forth. The path that the buck is taking is very intentional. They are walking through an area between the equipment that seems relatively easy to traverse. The machines around them, Gearing can tell, have been stripped of various components.

‘Someone’s found a good place to salvage parts,’ the little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments as it looks at the various ancient machinery. ‘I don’t know how good the parts would be, considering how rusted some of this casing is, but it could be useful. Could be refurbished if nothing else…’

‘At a glance I can tell you both these things were worth a fortune,’ the little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head adds. ‘Some individual parts of these machines were in the hundreds of thousands to replace. I don’t know how that’d translate to today’s money, but in the right hooves these things could be priceless if brought up to functionality again. Add in things from that dirty place and we could have something serious to work with from now on.’

Gearing mentally agrees as they are traveling through the mostly dark interior. The roof has a few holes in it here and there where the metal roof had rusted to the point of not being able to maintain its own weight and crumbled inwards. But, still, it’s mostly intact. Intact enough that the inside is still pretty dark, but not so intact that they can’t actually see where they are going. And it helps that they both are being careful where they are stepping.

The area starts opening up a bit wider, as they enter an area that actually has a few vehicles parked to the left. Gearing looks over at them, and sees the hoods are already open and someone had already stripped out a lot of the components. And as he’s looking carefully, he can see the various shipping containers around them. Some of them are still on the vehicles, ready to leave. Some shipping containers are stacked up along the right, ready to be filled or moved elsewhere but otherwise being stored. And still others hang from the ceiling above. Gearing looks up at the gantry that’s used to move the shipping containers around and is more than a little impressed that the equipment is still holding up all of the weight, even after all of this time. He makes a note to come back through here and check out the operating equipment and see if there’s anything he himself can salvage there. Having a working gantry system could be very helpful for a variety of purposes.

Gearing starts catching up with the buck again as he’d started falling behind. “So, you’d been salvaging this area?”

The buck nods. “Yeah. Pretty good claim. Until the assholes robbed us and chased me off…” the buck says bitterly as he looks down at the ground. “Nothing good lasts for long…”

Gearing smiles at him as he says, “Nothing bad lasts forever either, you know…”

Chert turns to look at him, and the expression is hard to read for Gearing. Like the buck can’t believe that with everything that’s going on, somehow, apparently, Gearing is remaining positive.

As they are looking at each other, something slams into Gearing from above with so much force that his front end is forced to the ground and his legs sprawl out as he was in the middle of walking and wasn’t even close to being prepared for having a large amount of weight drop on him suddenly.

Gearing groans as he feels a sharp pain in his chest and back. He tilts his head to try and look behind him, and that’s when he sees a glowing metal rod curl on its own and touch down into the ground next to him on his right side. Then it burrows into the concrete too. He looks down and sees the same glow, coming out of his chest, and it’s only then that he realizes that some sort of rod has run him completely through. Whatever it is is going through his back, just behind the shoulder and closer to the middle where his spine would be if he had one, and coming out near the middle of his chest where his sternum would be. Both ends have burrowed into the concrete. And with the other side curving over to do so, it’s like Gearing has been stapled to the ground with a thick metal rod. He looks up at the buck, who’d jumped away from him when he’d gotten struck, and is looking at Gearing with pure fear in his eyes.

Gearing stretches out his wings, and starts trying to plant his legs, despite the odd angle that he’s being placed in.

Chert comments softly, “I’m sorry… they have my family…”

Gearing looks at him, and barely has time to register what the buck had said before a shipping container slams into him from above.

<<<----=====!!!WHAM!!!=====---->>>

Gearing never heard either of them coming.

Footnote:

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Errors Discovered . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Author's Note

The hunt continues but what could 1 little detour hurt?

* * * * *

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105 Death's List

The dirty buck stumbles back and away from the shipping container as it slams into the ground, right on top of Gearing as he’s trying to get up. Chert slowly starts backing up away from it, and a few moments later, multiple ponies come from a variety of angles out and around the rubble and wrecked machinery like roaches pouring out of their disturbed nests. All of them are laughing and grinning at what they had helped cause. Most of them are wearing equipment from the mining company nearby. Almost all of them are wearing mining helmets that they have now turned on, and shine the light on the shipping container that’s been smashed into the ground with enough force to crack the concrete in some places.

A pair of bucks walk up from behind Chert and chuckle. The bigger buck looks at the shipping container and comments, “Hey, Lucky, get a load of this. Told you it wouldn’t be that hard to get the fucker…” For a unicorn, he’s definitely an impressive size compared to most. Being far bigger than even average earth ponies. With an obvious high protein diet habit to boot. Like most of the other’s that have revealed themselves after the trap was sprung, he’s wearing a good amount of mining equipment. The grayish utility uniform he has under everything is in pretty decent shape and covers most of his coffee brown hide. But he’s also wearing a rather thick jacket that’s been modified with some obvious armor enhancements over most of his torso and shoulders. But, even so, it has a thick lining from where it protected miners from the colder parts of mines and environments. Unlike many of the others, he’s not sporting one of the lighted mining helmets. Instead, he has an old weathered brown safari hat with a hole for his horn to poke out through. The hat obviously wasn’t made for him as it both looks a bit too small for his head and the hole for his horn was roughly cut by an amateur. Even so, the beat up hat does a pretty good job of covering up his coal black mane.

The buck next to him puffs on a cigarette as he eyeballs the disaster with barely contained nervousness. And the dark brown heavy duster he’s wearing makes him seem more like a buck that wishes to disappear at any moment with the way it covers him up almost entirely. His midnight blue mane is kept tightly to his head with a bit of black cloth tied like a sweatband over his brow. So there’s very little of his sandy colored fur visible to onlookers. “I’ll believe it when you get him out of that suit and we can string his corpse up in front of Megamac.”

The dirty white buck Chert looks over at the large unicorn and asks quietly, “I- I did what you wanted… M-my family…?”

The looming unicorn waves him away dismissively with a forehoof while still staring at the shipping container. “Yeah, yeah… Get the fuck out of here… I was even nice enough to keep the boys off that filly of yours…” He throws a key at the dirty white buck without actually looking at him and only getting it into his general direction. “Get out of my sight and don’t come back.”

Chert dives and catches the key and, without saying another word, turns and runs out of the industrial complex as fast as he can with the key tightly held in his teeth.

Lucky puffs on his cigarette as he asks, “Sure that’s smart, Boss? He could just go get help? Never know when a buck like that will suddenly grow a conscience…”

Boss laughs as he pulls out a large cigar from the inside of his heavy armored jacket. “Except we know where he lives… And I already made it perfectly clear that if he double crosses me, we’ll be stringing his family up by their own guts… He’s a smart buck. He’ll know to keep his mouth shut… Unless he wants to see his family ripped apart worse than feral ghouls will do…”

The large unicorn waves over to the side and yells, “Lift it back up, that should have done it. He shouldn’t have survived the skewer, let alone that shipping container full of spikes.”

Several of the ponies run around and a couple of the unicorns help guide the chains that are lowered from above with massive hooks on them. The hooks are put into place, and the chains are brought taught as they make sure it’s connected well enough. And then the gantry that Gearing had been admiring before proves its functionality as it starts the process of lifting the shipping container and moving it off and to the side on top of other containers under the control of a pony up on the walkways far above.

The massive chains connected to the shipping container start cranking upwards, and slowly the large box is lifted up and into the air. Those around it keep waving and directing it. And, after the box only gets up a couple feet off of the ground a couple of the ponies that had crowded around actually take a step back as they get a look underneath it.

Gearing is still sprawled out, skewered with the enchanted rod with it curled over and burrowing back into the ground on his right side. The wings that he had spread out to help push himself up, have been shattered and along their entire length a variety of giant metal staples had been fashioned and are pinning his wings to the ground like some kind of sadistic insect display. His body had taken multiple impacts from the metal spikes as well. And there are multiple staples along his entire length. But most of them had bent and gotten deflected. Though a few found purchase and those watching can see where a couple cogs have actually been knocked off on a couple points from the staples hitting just right and wedging them away from his body.

But the part that makes more than a few of them step back, recoiling from the sight, is the fact that Gearing is still moving. Or trying to. Now that the container’s off him, he’s arched up his hind legs onto his knees, and is trying to pull himself off of the spike going through his chest, but it just doesn't seem to want to budge. Regardless of how much he’s pushing against both it and the concrete under himself.

Boss takes a few puffs from his cigar as he stares at Gearing, and obviously doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

Lucky pointedly looks at him and scowls. “I fucking told you he wasn’t just some nopony. That fucker’s probably got healing talismans in his suit. He’s harder to kill than a damned hellhound. He took out my whole gang that went up north. Every. Last. One. He’d been taking out high priority targets left and right. He’s the one that took down Cookie. I warned you not to underestimate the fucker, now look!”

Boss looks at him and scowls. “Yeah… now look… He might be alive, and that suit might be keeping him that way… but not for long…” He claps with his forehooves a couple times and a dirty orange mare with an auto axe starts walking towards Gearing. “Let’s see him heal from that!”

Lucky puffs on his cigarette quickly as he keeps looking back and forth. “I don’t know, Boss. I helped get him here. To get him back for what he did to everypony we know. But that rod didn’t do it… I don’t know why, that aim of yours was perfect…”

The large unicorn puffs a few more times on his cigar before he starts walking forward. “We got this…” He walks to a bit away from Gearing, getting within a few paces of him, before he says, “Hey, you pegasi fuck… You’ve killed a lot of my friends… You should have stayed out of our business and you woulda made it through today.”

A mare from the right yells, “You killed my sister up in Hoofington!”

A buck from behind and to Gearing’s left yells, “You killed my pa and cousins at Tower Towing!”

Another mare yells from the shadows to Gearing’s left, “I heard tell you was the one that killed my ma when she was just collect’n’ tolls from a caravan!”

A stallion on the right side in front of Gearing steps more into the light as he taps a large crowbar against his own shoulder. “Ya killed my son when he was escort’n’ a shipment to Red Eye. I expect yer gonna answer for that…”

‘This is going to be a nasty fight for sure,’ the little blue pegasus in his head comments with a frown.

Gearing snarls at the large unicorn in front of him, and starts pushing against the ground more, but, again, he doesn’t make any headway. The glowing rod stubbornly refuses to yield at all.

Boss starts laughing and stoops down, to look at Gearing at almost eye level, but from a distance away. “Awwww the little flying bitch having a problem with a little spike? What’s wrong? It won’t move? Awww that’s a real shame, ain’t it.” He straightens up as he looks around at the others around him. “That’s a real shame that he’s stuck, isn’t it boys?”

All around him they start laughing as they begin gathering and bringing a variety of metal working equipment from out of some other area.

Boss looks at Gearing and points at the spike coming out of his chest. “Not that you’re going to live long enough for this to matter… Maybe for whatever friend of yours that can hear through your radio set up… But my name’s Boss Borer of the Dunwich Borers. The Borer family helped build this country. We’ve been cracking rocks and ripping metal since even before the war. Loooong family tradition of bending metal to our will.” He grins at Gearing around the cigar, then points at the rod sticking through Gearing’s chest. “That rod there, that you can’t seem to lift, that is one of my family's pride and joys. My ancestors made them as a way to make mining faster. They sink into minerals… stone… metal… whatever… with ease… As easy as a hot knife through butter… and when they are commanded to, they lock in place, and won’t move afterwards until they are told to. And, lucky me, I’m one of the few ponies that know how to use them still… Not that there’s many of them left, a lot of them were lost or destroyed in the war.” He stoops down as he scoots closer. “You are a tough bastard aren’t you? I mean, your heart should be run right through… If not that, at least a lung… but here you are glaring at me like I stole your last sparkle cola….” He leans back and puts a hoof to his chest. “Sccaaaaaarryyy…” His aquamarine blue eyes practically sparkle with delight as a bunch of the others laugh and the mare with the auto axe walks up behind Gearing. He pulls out a knife from a sheath on his foreleg with his levitation field, and quickly cuts the saddle bags off of Gearing with it. After getting the bags away from him, he summarily throws them off to the side with his telekinetic field without really looking at them. As he’s putting his knife back he yells out, “Nopony touch that stuff. After we’re done dealing with him, we’ll open up his bags and see what goodies he’s brought us for Hearth’s Warming this year!” This causes another round of laughter to spark up from the ponies standing around.

Boss puffs on the cigar a few more times before he points it at Gearing using his levitation magic. “You’ve pissed off the wrong ponies… I’m sure I’m going to make a fortune selling your armor off to those tin head ass holes… You’re actual head though? I think Usury and the slavers would like that, judging by what Red Beard has been saying… The rest of you? I don’t know. I’ll figure it out later. I still think hanging you out front of Megamac will get the point across… But if somepony’s willing to pay me more, I’ll do that instead… hmmm choices choices…” He puts a hoof to his chin as he looks back at Lucky. “Hey, Lucky, what do you think? It was your crew that he wiped out after all?”

Lucky looks at him and flicks the already smoked cigarette off into the surrounding rubble. “What I think is you need to stop fucking around and just kill this fucker. My mane’s itching in the worst kinda way and when that happens bad shit always happens. I would have already ran out of here with how bad it’s itching, but I really wanna see what this fucker looks like first…”

Boss Borer frowns and waves him off with a dismissive hoof. “You’re just a chicken shit. He’s not going anywhere with that spike through his chest. I don’t know how he’s still breathing. But he won’t be for long… Just stay there and enjoy the show.” He clicks with his tongue and looks sideways at the orange mare with the auto axe. “Get that fucker out of the suit. Try not to wreck it. Cut it in half if you have to, but I want him out. I don’t think those steel ranger fucks will pay as much if it’s entirely ruined… half should be okay.” He looks over at Lucky and grins. “Half works, right?”

Lucky lights another cigarette as he scowls at the mare with the auto axe. “Whatever, just quit showboating before he figures out how to get off of that or some of his friends show up…”

Boss Borer rolls his eyes as he nickers. “Oh, please… With how bad both of those two got shot up, if they survived, they aren’t in good shape. That’s why he went after the commander’s crew. I mean, I was sure that was going to happen, not that I’d tell that pushy fuck that, but with those two out of commission he’s on his own… Now if some of the-”

Whatever he was going to say gets drowned out as the mare with the auto axe turns it on, and comes down on Gearing with the spinning blades. It was a tool with industrial purposes. Its rapidly spinning blades are capable of ripping into and breaking down metal in an efficient and economical manner. It was a favorite in multiple recycling sectors.

A fact that Gearing is introduced to in short order.

The mare with the auto axe brings it down across Gearing’s right shoulder at the neck, and starts running it at an angle from there across his back towards the rod. But she’s careful not to let the spinning blades get too close to the rod. She doesn't want to risk damaging it and incurring the wrath of her leader. And with expert handling of it she slowly works back and forth, cutting into brass gears, plates, and other pieces with a slow but steady motion. Her helmet that she’s wearing, with a full face guard, keeps having pieces plink off of it as she’s looking so closely at it, and trying to work around Gearing’s wings. One after another pieces fail as the weapon designed for dismantling equipment on an industrial scale eats through him in rapid succession.

All the while Gearing screams and thrashes as the axe slowly sinks into his shoulder, and then starts moving towards his back and flank. She obviously knows what she’s doing, and how to tear down equipment, because she’s not simply trying to sink the blades down to the hilt. No, she’s working back and forth in a line, cutting the various parts and intending on making a nice clean line to the opposite side of his abdomen. Going around the rod and avoiding cutting the sections around the wings. On some level, she’s pretty sure the tech controlling the wings would be especially valuable, so she doesn't want to risk damaging them anymore than they already are.

Boss Borer tilts forward, putting a hoof to his ear as he groans out a moan of approval. “Hey, Lucky, you hear that? That’s an actual scream… He’s not just pissed, she’s got him.”

Lucky puffs on his cigarette slowly as he says, “Yeah.. Except.. He’s still screaming… Why ain’t that buck dead yet?”

Boss Borer just shrugs as he steps a couple paces closer. “I don’t know, he will be soon though…” He looks at the mare cutting into Gearing and yells. But she can’t hear him between the machine, the sound of grinding metal, and Gearing’s screaming. So he steps around so he’s within her line of sight and starts waving his forehooves. After she notices him. She stops, then looks at him with a tilt of her head. He points at Gearing as he says. “Avoid the flank area too. That’s gotta be where the circuitry for that thing is.” She nods, then waits a moment for him to motion for her to continue. And once he does, she brings the blade back to the starting position, the deep cut into Gearing’s shoulder near his neck.

Gearing looks up at the buck and screams at him. “I’m going to fucking kill you! I’m gonna rip your guts out and leave you swinging from the gates of Tartarus you fucking bastards! All of you! You’re all gonna die!” His snarling scowl travels over them, and stops as he looks at Lucky. The two catch eye contact, and Lucky’s burgundy eyes slowly go wider as his mane itches more and more.

Time comes to a stop as Gearing activates SATS.

The little pegasus rages as he flies around “I’m going to kill them all! All of them! They’re dead. All dead! All rules of engagement are suspended until further notice. Kill. Them. All!”

Gearing mentally snarls back. I don’t have anything to counter this. This damn rod. It’s enchanted against metal. It’s keeping me here. I can’t move it and I can’t do anything as long as this rod’s holding me in place… I don’t know what to do…

Gearing’s already getting a feeling like he’s being drained. Like how he’d felt in The Core. Not the exact same. But similar. And he doesn’t like it. Not one bit. But, unlike The Core, he’s got nowhere to run. Because he can’t run. Despite his strength, he can’t push himself off of the rod. It’s locked in place and won’t budge. He’s lifted shipping containers before, but he can’t lift this. And the faint glow coming from it gives him a good idea why. And that the buck who’s in charge of all these psychos wasn’t kidding about it’s intended purposes.

It just so happens that Gearing is particularly vulnerable to such enchantments. Whether they realized that fact or not.

Gearing, despite having a snarl of defiance on the outside, is quickly coming to a realization that doesn’t match it. Hope starts slipping away from him, even in this time accelerated period for him, as all it does is give him more time to process the situation and realize how truly screwed he is. He can feel how deeply they’d already cut into his shoulder and neck. And how the blade had already been worked to be back near his wings. It’s not far from where the rod had pierced his back. And they very clearly intend on literally cutting him in half with that axe.

And he knows, without being told, that not even he would survive something like that. Not for long anyway. There had been other ponies that had been blown in half, or lost a large portion of their body and been able to survive. But they all had the benefit of extreme medical care. If not an actual mega spell. And none of them, as far as he knows, had been cut crossways from shoulder to opposite flank going right through their chest.

Despite everything that he could be thinking about at the moment. The biggest feeling that he has, he’s no stranger to. But this time it comes in a new and horrible form. Regret. He feels an overwhelming and crushing wave of regret come over him. Not simply for dying or going through this. But there’s one thing that he’s feeling the worst case of regret he’s ever felt in his entire miserable life for.

Sable.

As the very reality of his life being taken from him is all around him, what he’s regretting the most is not being able to be with Sable any more. That instead of being wrapped up in her legs and cables, he’s going to be parted out to the highest bidder. He’ll never see her again. Not in this life, nor the next.

The little golden pegasus sits down as he looks up at the starry sky above in his mind space. ‘This is not fucking fair. We finally get to meet someone like her. Only to lose her. The universe really does hate us, doesn’t it?’

Gearing mentally snarls, I can’t leave her alone. What is she going to do? Is anyone else going to treat her the way she deserves to be treated? This is bullshit! I tell her I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her, and then go off and get ripped apart the same day?! What kinda comic book black flag raised bullshit is this?!

The little pegasus in his head fumes as he looks around. ‘This can’t be it. This can’t be it!’

Gearing replies, I think it is… We can’t get out of this on our own, and no ones coming…

The little blue pegasus in his head starts slapping at his own face. ‘This can’t be happening…’

Gearing gives a dark humored chuckle before he comments, Seems fitting though, doesn’t it… I figured I’d go out in the line of duty. No one like me gets to retire at an old age after all. And not only was I betrayed by someone I was trying to help, but it was after I fucked up so bad that the world was blown to hell while I was napping.

The little golden pegasus looks at him and frowns. ‘So, where does that leave us?’

Tartarus? Gearing asks with no hint of irony in his voice.

“So, that’s it, Gearing?” a familiar mare’s voice asks from the aether.

Gearing tries to look to the side, towards where the voice is coming from, but can’t. That’s not the way the SATS spell works. Instead he replies, I’m sorry, Commander. But I’ve got nothing left.

In his peripheral vision Rainbow Dash, wearing her officer’s uniform from the Shadowbolts, steps into his sight and looks at him. Her eyes look tired. The look he’d seen repeatedly working with her. Her multicolored mane lays limp and unmotivated. She keeps staring at him for a few moments before she asks, “After everything, you’re just going to give up?”

Give up?! Gearing snaps. I’m not giving up! There’s a point when you’ve given all you got and there’s nothing more in the tank.

“That’s an excuse, Gearing.” Rainbow Dash says as she stares at him.

What else am I supposed to do? Gearing asks in exasperation.

Dash walks back and forth a few times. “I don’t know. You’re the egghead pony, Gearing. So, why don’t you egghead your way out of this? Your strength isn’t doing it. Your speed certainly isn’t doing it. So, what do you have left?”

Gearing keeps trying to think, but doesn't respond.

Rainbow Dash turns away from him and comments evenly, “You’re the most dedicated… devoted pony I’ve ever met. When you set yourself to a goal, you don’t stop until you reach it. You use any and every loophole you can to make the impossible possible. So, do that.”

Gearing keeps his focus on her as he asks, What, Commander?

“What was that you used to tell me, Gearing? When the deck was stacked against you. And the whole world was telling you to quit?” Rainbow Dash asks with her back to him.

Gearing stares at her and a spark pops up in him as he starts thinking about it.

Rainbow Dash looks over her shoulder and gives him a wide grin. “That’s right, Gearing… Win… Cheat if you have to, but win. That’s an order, Gearing.”

Yes ma’am, Gearing replies mentally as he feels the SATS spell slip away from him as it runs out of charge a bit earlier than he was expecting.

After entering normal speed reality, Gearing’s voice continues echoing out in pain and rage. He starts thrashing again, trying to twist and move his body as he screams out a variety of obscenities.

Lucky stares at him and starts backing up a bit. He waves at Boss as he asks, “Sh-shouldn’t we be seeing blood by now, Boss?!”

The mare over Gearing has a hard time getting the cut right, and has to fight to keep cutting along the path she’s already cutting on it.

Another buck walks up from the side, looking the damage over, and his eyes trail down as something catches his eye. “Uh… Boss… I don’t mean to sound like a whiny buck, but… his wings? They… they seem to be growing back.”

Several others look over and their eyes go wide as they all can’t seem to ignore the fact that the wings that had been mostly devoid of its crystal, had now started having pieces of green show up all over it. And pieces of broken metal actually warp in and mend themselves of apparently their own free will.

Boss stares at it as he starts puffing on his cigar quickly. “That can’t be… There’s usually a glow when a magical repair talisman kicks on. What’s going on here?”

The mare on top pauses with the auto axe as she screams. “This fucker’s moving more! He’s throwing off my cuts. It’s really starting to piss me off!” She lowers the axe as she asks, “And when the hell am I going to finally get to the fucker inside so I can shut him up finally!?”

Gearing starts twisting his body in every conceivable angle as he tries to move and manipulate his body to get some kind of leverage. The axe bites in quickly into the base of his neck again, and is working its way towards the middle of his back as the mare on top of him screams about how long this is taking.

A few pieces go flying away, and a couple others get pulled up into the auto axe as a group of them come loose at once and get sucked into the rotating machine.

She wasn’t expecting the kickback of the auto axe, but being a professional with it, she manages to guide it up and at an angle correctly to avoid hurting herself.

But, enough of Gearing had been cut that the pieces that had been pulled away, cause an even greater gap to form. So when Gearing twists and kicks with his hind legs, his body actually moves this time.

But not the way he’d want, nor anyone else had expected.

His body breaks along the cut, with the majority of his body being on the right side, with only his head and left foreleg taking up the left, and even then only attached to the rest of him by a very small bit of twisted plating and loose cogs down near his left hip. From the cut that was placed between the base of his neck and his right shoulder, all the way to the middle of his back between his wings, the metal that makes up his body has separated. Whether it was from being actually cut, or just the strain from all of the torque he was applying plus the loss of structural integrity from all of the parts being damaged if not entirely removed.

The sudden jerk caused the mare to completely lose her balance, as she’d been operating the piece of equipment with her forehooves, and ended up falling forward and stumbling, but, having a lot of experience with the tool, she quickly threw it away from herself and off to the side before she face planted a bit in front of Gearing’s head. And as she’s screaming in pain about her face getting smashed by concrete, everypony else is staring in stunned silence at Gearing and what he’d done to himself.

All of Gearing’s internal components are clear to see. His various metallic organs. They can see his intestinal tract, a winding series of plates made of tubes making up the length of corrugated piping that’s extra oily looking. His lungs, as one of them stayed with the right side of him and the other is still in the left side of his chest, mostly, keep moving as he screams. All of the internal components are covered in a thick oily material that they can’t identify, but even these hardened murders actually feel uneasy at the sight as it feels so unnatural it’s sickening. And among all of it, are many thin strands of rainbow colored wire like material. They travel up and down his body and, now that his body has been cracked open, they are in full view and seem to be stretched between the gap that had been cut.

Boss looks the scene over and the cigar falls out of his mouth as he says, “Wh-where is he? Where the hell is he!? What is this!?”

Lucky takes a step back as he says, “The fucking rumors are true! He’s not a pegasus, he’s a fucking murder machine!!!”

Gearing’s scream echoes out in horror and terror at what had been unleashed on him. And with the break in his body, he’s able to turn his neck enough to see behind himself at what had been done to him. The unmistakable fact that except for a small portion of his left side, he has indeed been cut in two. Gearing is shaking and snarling in pain as he feels everything get fuzzy. But movement catches his eye, and he looks down a bit.

The mare that had been cutting on him sits up, and removes her helmet. She looks right at him and her eyes go wide at what she sees. She starts trying to get up, and scramble away. On an instinctive level her guts are telling her hell is coming.

Gearing uses his left foreleg, and throws himself forward. He’s entirely expecting his hind end not to follow, given everything that he’s had done. But he’s going to take at least one more down with him. At least one more. And as the mare rolls over to get up and run, Gearing’s fetlock locks around hers on her hind leg, and pulls her a bit closer. He’s broken himself a bit more, and his left wing rips more as he pulls himself closer to the mare to keep her from getting away. She starts thrashing around as she kicks at him with her other hind leg as she’s dragged slowly towards Gearing by her hind hoof.

She looks at Boss Borer and screams with unabashed terror in her voice. “Help! Help meeee!! Somepony, pleeaasseee! HEEELL-AAGGHHHH!!!”

Gearing pulls her close enough that he can chomp on her leg, which he does. And he bites hard enough that the bones snap. But Gearing isn’t looking for a last minute snack. Gearing uses his jaws to free up his one good leg, and then uses it to grab her at her hip, and pull her even closer.

As she’s being dragged back even further she’s flailing around with her forelegs feebly as she’s in full panic mode. “Help help, no! HELP! HEELLPP!! Somepony do something, heeellp! AAGHH URhhhK AAGGHhh!”

Gearing chomps down on her upper thigh, holding her there, then reaches up with his forehoof, and drives it straight into the abdomen of the mare. And, with the edge of his hoof and his force, it sinks straight in with little effort even without having the majority of his weight to aid him. And he keeps hitting the same spot until it breaks through the abdominal wall, uniform and all, and then he uses that as a hoof hold to pull and turn her closer. As she’s staring at the others, and screaming with every breath her lungs can bring in, Gearing bites her in the back of the neck, flips her to the side, and holds her down on the ground as he stomps her body with his left foreleg. And, after she’s gone still, he looks the boss in the eyes, and then closes his jaws even more, causing blood to spurt out and the audible snap of bones to echo in the otherwise quiet work area. Then he flicks his foreleg to the side, sending the mare’s bloody mangled body sailing a distance away.

Gearing gives Boss Borer a maniacal grin that’s covered in blood, viscera, and bone fragments. The kind of grin a wolf might give someone when he’s just had a meal that wasn’t quite satisfying, and he sees a new meal that’ll help hit the spot.

Gearing slams his foreleg on the ground as he cackles out with his eyes wide open and a mad maniacal glint to them. “You kill me?! You. Kill. Me?! Celestia couldn’t even kill me! If that stuck up bitch couldn’t manage it, what do you weak pathetic fools think you can do!” He stomps his hoof and pulls himself just a bit more towards Boss Borer, straining against the metal staples in his wings and breaking a few of the wires of his wings in the process. “Once I pull myself together, you’re dead! Your foals are dead! Your whole fucking family will pay for your mistakes! Whether it takes me a minute, a day, or a century, it’s all the same to me! Your whole family will be wiped off the map! You’ll learn not to fuck with beings beyond your comprehension!” He leans his head back and cackles as he looks up at the ceiling. “I’ll rip your souls out and feed them to the beasts of Tartarus myself! They’ll be eating out of my hoof again! AHAHAHAHH!”

Gearing looks around at them as he feels everything quickly getting more fuzzy and his vision isn’t working as well as it normally does. As if a fog slowly starts over taking everything. He goes from one vague shape to another as he snarls. “You’re dead. You’re dead. Oh, you know you’re dead. You’re dead too, you just don’t even know it yet.”

Gearing drifts his head to the right. Towards a shadowy area that he’d not paid much attention to before because he was too busy getting cut in half to really focus on anything else than the mare that was standing on him. As he’s looking, the shadows move and sway. And a bit glints out of the gloom as Gearing feels a pair of eyes watching him. He stares at the vaguely pony shaped shadow as he tries to figure out what he’s looking at. But, then he decides, it doesn’t matter. He’s still got a job to do. He’s got somewhere to be. Someone counting on him. Gearing snarls in the direction of the looming shadow and yells with a growl that makes his whole body reverberate, “And you! Skeletal fuck! I’m not done yet. So sit the fuck down and wait your turn! I’ll deal with you in a minute!” The skeletal figure wreathed in shadows didn’t seem to expect that, and does indeed stop moving. And simply watches.

The other ponies start backing up and away from him as Gearing’s snarl promises retribution on anyone, everyone, and everything within reach. Like a dragon protecting its hoard.

And, to make matters worse for all of them, from a mental standpoint, they can actually see certain parts of Gearing trying to pull himself back together. And that’s all the confirmation any of them needed that they may have made a mistake rolling out of bed this morning.

Gearing looks past Boss Borer, and straight at Lucky, the one pony who’s been trying to slowly back up enough to get a good enough buffer that he can turn and run without anyone catching him. But Gearing ruins his plan when he screams at him, “Lucky! That’s a fucked up name, because the only thing you’re going to be lucky about is if you die before I get my hooves on you, you fucking walking corpse!” He snaps his teeth in his direction a couple times for emphasis before he says, “I’m gonna eat your fucking heart and make you watch!”

And that display of mercilessly psychotic nature was all the others needed. Regardless of what their boss tried to say to them, the other ponies go running. Any hope of a huge pay day going out the window as they come to the realization that they didn’t crack open a suit, they pissed off a death machine.

Boss Borer had turned to look at Lucky when Gearing drew his attention to him, and then noticed him further back than he was expecting. He starts running after Lucky, but Lucky, not being a dumb buck, turns and starts running away as fast as he can.

Boss Borer screams after him, “Where the fuck are you going?! Get back here and help me finish him off!”

Lucky screams back, “What ‘him’?! That ain’t a ‘him’! That’s a fucking monster from Nightmare Moon herself! You go and finish him off, you’re the one that pissed him off by dropping a fucking ton of garbage on him!”

The two continue off across the warehouse, without slowing down.

Gearing, slowly turns his head, looking around for anyone else, and sees that, yes, they had all entirely disappeared from the area. The only one remaining is the mare that’s not much more than a mangled corpse. Gearing looks at her and grins with blood seeping out of his mouth. “Heh… They won’t… get the satisfaction…” Gearing slumps down and lays to the side as he groans. “Of watching… me die…” He uses his foreleg, and pushes himself back and to the side again, while trying to undo what he’s done to himself at least a bit. That rod is still in the way, and is proving to be a hard obstacle to get around. So Gearing actually has to push himself back enough that he breaks his wings the other way. And, once he gets his body around the loop, he flips and maneuvers himself to get his two halves back together again. And, in a bid to try and actually get them together, he rolls over on his side, completely forsaking his left wing and letting it get ripped apart even worse as he desperately tries to force his pieces together. But his right foreleg isn’t wanting to work at all. Neither is his right hind leg. His left hind leg can barely move, and isn’t doing much more than acting as a kickstand to keep his flank on his body. He checks his pipbuck, trying to find if he has anything on him. And in the gloomy light that's being provided to him, it only confirms what he already knew.

He has nothing that can help him. Nothing at all. Not even the coil of wire he’d used to string up certain ponies. All of it had been cast far enough away that he can’t get to it at the moment.

As he’s laying there he starts hearing weapons fire in the distance. And he smiles as he closes his eyes. “I hope the fuckers are fighting among themselves over this… The more of them they kill, the better the world will be…” He gently opens his eyes and smiles lightly as he asks, “Do they count as my kill count? If I just bluffed them into having a freak out and killing each other? It feels like it should… I’ll have to ask when I get to Tartarus…”

Fighting in the distance seems sporadic, and voices echo out in the manufacturing plant so much that Gearing can’t quite pinpoint them. Though that also is probably because of his tenuous grip on reality at the moment.

And then he starts opening his eyes as he hears a set of hooves running through the warehouse. He prepares himself, and tries to figure out if he has enough strength to maybe take out one more. Yeah. One more notch will make him feel better. Maybe this one he can drag to Tartarus with him. Both of them dying with his hoof buried in their chest or wrapped around their neck choking them to death.

Gearing keeps trying to see who it is, but doesn’t see them. Even though they are getting closer. Then, a fact that worries him starts poking at his consciousness. The hooves sound small, and the hoofbeats sound more like a young pony than a full grown adult.

A few moments later his fears are realized as a filly comes running into his line of sight. She slides by, looks at the light from the mining helmet that the mare with the auto axe had set down, then starts walking over there as she seems to see something she wants as her ears perk up and a smile explodes across her muzzle with foalish enthusiasm.

Gearing lifts himself up a bit, and looks at her. “Hey, kid…”

The pink filly jumps in the air in surprise. Scared out of her wits by the way her mane and tail hair frazzles out in unnatural directions as she spins around and looks at the source of the voice.

Gearing gently waves his one good forehoof at her. “This place… is bad… you need to go… go to Megamac… Get clear of here… tell… tell them it’s full of raiders.”

The filly starts walking towards him, and then she perks up again as she says excitedly, “Oh, wait! You’re that shiny pony!”

Gearing blinks a couple times as he looks at her. In his mind’s eye he visualizes an orange mare and a pink filly cornered by slaving raiders. And he imagines the smile on the little filly’s face as she paid him with some kind of toy still in its original plastic wrapping. Then his eyes clear a bit as panic once again starts rising in himself. But, not for his own safety, he knows he’s gone, but he knows what kinda monsters live here too. “It’s you! Oh no! Go on, run! Save yourself! Don’t let them find you!”

The filly starts looking around the area and scrunches her muzzle as she sees the amount of blood around the whole area. And on him. She tilts her head side to side before she asks, “Everything okay? You… don’t look to good…”

Gearing smirks as he lays his head down and says, “I’ve… had better days… kid…”

She walks over and gets right in front of him as she asks, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Gearing looks at her and takes in a deep unnecessary breath. But as he’s about to tell her to leave him, the little pegasus in his head starts bucking him at hyper speed, then pulls out a projector and plays a scene for him as the golden pony holds out a pair of flags and directs the air traffic of his attention towards what is being shown.

From his view, Sable had twisted around to hold him sideways so they can look at each other more directly instead of him having to crane his neck to look up at her. She’s giving him a rather loving smile, which gives no hint to the conversation they’d just had and are still actually having. “I know you don’t have to worry about bleeding out, but, I don’t want you having to suffer and limp home either.” She grabs his cheeks, and he can remember the slight smooshing feeling she caused as she looked into his eyes and demanded his attention. “Take what is specific to you… You hear me?”

In a jump cut to a few moments later, he’s setting down some ammo to take with him, and suddenly Sable drops a laser pistol and the magical packs that function as its ammo. He glances up at her as her cable’s retracting back to her. She glances at him as she comments, “Variety is important, my love. That has multiple uses beyond simply terminating bad ponies…” And he nods as the statement is true on multiple levels.

The two pegasi in his head start chanting, ‘Multi use tool! Multi use tool! Multi use tool!’ repeatedly and each time they do the projection, and thus his focus, narrows in more and more on the laser pistol.

Gearing’s eyes open a bit wider, then he lifts his head. After quickly looking off to the side, he spots his bag. Right where it had been cast aside earlier after they cut it from his body. He tries to keep his excitement, and desperate need, in check as he asks as calmly as he can possibly manage, “Actually… Could you… go get my medicine for me?”

The little filly perks up and hops up and down as she squeals. “Yeah! I can help! Momma told me to just come and hide, but I can help, see!” She whips her head back and forth a few times as she grins. “Where? Where is it?!”

Gearing lifts his foreleg a bit, and waves over to the side. “Over there. There’s a saddle bag that’s been cut up… Can you bring it over here?”

The little filly runs over, grabs it, and starts trying to pull it towards him. A moment after tugging on it she whines, “It’s sooo heavy…”

Gearing lays his head down as he closes his eyes. “Just… just dump everything out… We’re looking for a laser pistol, or ammo for it… either one will work… The laser pistol looks like a little black box with a mouth grip on one side… The ammo for it looks… well… shit… smaller blocky cylinders… like cans, but tiny… and wrapped in tape… if that makes sense…”

The filly starts dumping things out, kicking stuff away as she looks for anything even resembling what he’s talking about. She kicks several towards him, and then finds one of the ‘taped mini cans’ that he’s mentioned and quickly runs over to him with it in her mouth. She drops it in front of him as she asks, “Is this it? Huh?”

Gearing opens his eyes, and a smile breaks across his muzzle. “Yeah… that’s it… That’s the ammo…”

The filly tilts her head as she asks, “How’s that medicine? Huh?”

Gearing reaches over with his hoof, but he’s quickly losing strength. And his leg doesn’t want to move. The tingling sensation is spreading all over his body and he’s starting to feel rather cloudy at the moment. He tries his best to keep his eyes open, but the lenses just feel so heavy. “Put it under my hoof.” She quickly does by sliding it under his with a quick tap of her own. And he says softly, “Please, lift my hoof up and drop it on it.” She does and, as she’s got it at the peak, Gearing deactivates his weight mitigation implant. The fact it’s still functioning is a blessing he is truly happy for.

The filly lets out an ‘eep’ as the sudden weight increase makes her drop it even as she tries to hold it up, and Gearing’s brass forehoof comes crashing down on the ammo. The edge of his hoof catches it right in the middle, and the plastic casing caves in instantly. He reactivates his weight mitigation implant and slowly slides his hoof to the side off of the ammo casing. He can see that it’s cracked. And he starts closing his eyes as he tries to focus. “Now… can you break that in half the rest of the way? Just… just bend it…”

She does as asked, and starts struggling, then starts whining, “All this powdery stuff is getting everywhere… I’m getting dirty…”

Gearing’s eyes jump open, and he sees the sparkling red powder fall out onto the floor. “W-wait!” he chokes out. He has a hard time doing anything, and it takes a lot of focus just to get his mouth to move so he keeps his eyes closed. “That red stuff… that’s what I need.”

“In your mouth?” She asks helpfully.

He tries to shake his head, but nothing happens. “No, listen, on the back side of my pipbuck… there’s a big hinge, do you see it?”

The filly walks closer and looks at it, then sticks her tongue out as she says, “Yeah, it’s all dirty… and your hoof’s bloody too…”

Gearing doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, making the little filly wonder what’s going on. And Gearing finally comments, “On the side of the hinge closest to the hoof, that part can be unscrewed… just pushing it in as you twist… it’ll take a few times, but it’ll come out, I promise.”

“Okay, I got it,” the filly replies almost instantly.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head slaps a hoof over his eyes as he comments. ‘Leave it to a foal to defeat ‘foal proof’ medicine bottle designed locks…’

Gearing says quietly, “What I need you to do… is… put the red powder in the little thing you just pulled out… the metal cylinder… The more the better, but some is better than none… and… I need it faster than not so don’t try too hard to get it all…”

The filly asks quietly, “Is the blood okay to be in here too? That’ll get it dirty, won’t it?”

“Little one, I’ll clean it later, don’t worry… I… I just need… a later… to… clean… please…”

Gearing settles down and his hearing and everything else changes to screeching and a high pitched wail. His body feels like some kind of combination of weightless and cloudy, but also a jam full of pain and misery.

The little blue pegasus in his head slumps down the rest of the way as he moans. ‘Close… so close… Fuck… sorry, Commander…’

The little golden pegasus in his head looks at his hoof as it’s starting to fade into cloud again. ‘Well… shit...’

Gearing wants to activate SATS, but it’s not going to help and he knows it. At best it would give him a few more seconds to think. But, right now, that’s all he can do. Nothing else. His body won’t even move under his own command anymore. He doesn’t know what he can do with all of his energy depleted and his body has given its last ounce of fight for the cause. He can see nothing to do but wait for the inevitable, unfortunately.

Secondary source of power confirmed.

Would you like to activate Hydra Protocol 2? Y/N

Gearing activates SATS.

He stares at the glowing text in his peripheral vision. He can’t really see much, not really. But he can see that clearly.

The little blue pegasus starts pulling himself up as he gives the sight a manic grin. ‘Oh hell to the fucking yes!’

Gearing quickly confirms the prompt’s request and he stays in SATS as long as he can, watching as the prompts and feedback roll across for the implant in his body. And as it’s going by it gives him flashes of the little diagram of a pegasus, with the majority of the body in critical condition and his torso listed as ‘Crippled’.

Gearing moans mentally, Please work… I know this sounds stupid coming from me, but I’m not ready to die now. Not now. There’s more I gotta do and a mare I wanna hug.

And when the tingle starts crossing over his body, to let him know that the magic was being activated and is just on the cusp of starting to work, he stays in SATS. He wants to have as much time to think and process what’s going on as possible as the magic starts quickly jolting across his body. And, after being sure that this is no hallucination brought on by his situation, Gearing finally cancels SATS and returns to real time with only a small amount of charge left on his PipBuck.

The little filly backs up as her jaw drops. But her eyes start to sparkle as she looks on with a growing smile at what she sees. And she can’t help letting out a gasp of surprise, the happy kind that’s almost a squeal of delight, as she gushes, “So preeeeettyyy!”

Light shoots out of Gearing’s body from various sources. A warm daylight, almost white light. The rainbow cabling running through his body convulses as power courses through it. His wings start glowing green and in short order the crystals zip out from the metal as the metal twists and warps back the way it should. And missing pieces of the wings frame are rapidly replaced by bits growing from its neighbor. Gearing’s body shifts and shakes as various pieces of his anatomy get replaced back where they are supposed to. His body slides and locks into itself again. He grits his teeth as the process is mind numbingly painful. Pieces that are entirely missing get replaced from other parts that take their place and grow rapidly in place. Other pieces that had been damaged, even ones that had been mostly removed, quickly regrow the missing fragments and leave nothing more than a shine on them before disappearing into his body under the next layer of parts that have formed. The trench cut into his neck seals up in rapid succession. Slag and small bits of himself that had been cut off, but not knocked away, get discarded and flicked away simply by the pieces filling in so quickly. And, after his body returns to his control enough to do so, he pushes himself up to his hooves. He violently yanks one way, ripping his wings free from the remaining staples that still held him down and were getting grown into his wing. Then does the same for the other one. But, this time, he stands up right as he flares out his wings and closes his eyes. The magical aura pulses through his entire body as he starts flexing his body and looking up at the ceiling with his wings flared out and at the ready. In a matter of moments, his body has been entirely repaired, but still flows with magical energy.

He looks down at the filly, but then spits off to the side. Several times. After getting rid of a good amount of pieces of his own discarded body, and the bloody bits still in there from where he killed the mare with the auto axe, he looks at the little filly. He stretches out his right foreleg, dips his head, and says softly as he gives her a formal bow fit for the castle halls of Canterlot, “Thank you very much for your help. I feel much better now.”

The filly looks him over as the glowing continues just as bright as it was a few minutes ago. Except all of the white light seems to be contained to within his body. The green light, however, is still bright enough that he’s illuminating the entire area around them. She claps her forehooves together a few times before she says, “You’re soooo pretty.”

He strikes his regular high winged pose, giving angles so that his wings can redirect light from the surrounding area. But, in this case, they are already producing enough light that he doesn't need other sources. Instead he wraps their own light to make it look like the filly herself is glowing. “Well, little one, that’s thanks to you.”

She looks at him for a few moments. Then she gets a sheepish smile on her face. “Well… I helped you… riiiight?”

Gearing nods deeply. “Yes. You did. More than I can explain to you.”

She taps her forehooves together as she brings them up to her muzzle and seems to be worried about even asking something. After a moment she sheepishly looks around and avoids eye contact before she asks, “Does that mean… I can ask a favor of you?”

Gearing smiles warmly at her. Then he leans down and looks her in the face. “Ask it, little one. If I can do it, I’ll do it…”

She smiles at him and then hops up and down a few times. She points off to the back where she’d come from as she says, “Well… my momma made friends with some ponies. And we came up to get some stuff to salvage… But when we got here, there were a looooot of bad ponies. And my momma’s friends realized that the bad ponies are ponies that they’ve been looking for… So… They don’t want to leave until they get them all, because they worth a lot of money… But I wanna get back to Megamac to get something good to eat, since we got some good stuff to trade, but momma said we can’t go until we’re done here… But we can’t leave while they’re chasing the bad ponies…and that’s gonna take foreeevveerrrr...”

Gearing smirks as he says, “So if the bad ponies get dealt with, you can go get something good to eat at Megamac, and you wanna hurry up and go, right?”

She looks at him and taps her forehooves together as she says, “Weeeelllll, I was just going to ask you to convince them to go now… but… I guess that’d work too…”

Gearing gives her another warm smile. Then he reaches out and ruffles her mane with his right forehoof. He gets closer to her and says, “You show me where the bad ponies went… and I promise you you’ll be able to leave soon.”

The two pegasi in Gearing’s head puff in smoke and suddenly change to being fully kitted out with more weapons than most armories on both of them as they grin manically. The little blue pegasus pulls a cigar out of his mouth as he says, ‘Oh I gar-on-tee eet...’

She beams a smile at Gearing and then turns and points off towards the direction she’d just come from. “Oh! That’s good. They went that way, come on, I’ll show you!”

Gearing grabs the auto axe that was used on him from the ground with a forehoof, and the little filly with a wing at the same time. He sets her on his neck as he rears up. “You show the way and I’ll kick their flank!”

She grabs hold of his mane with one hoof, uses her hind legs to wrap around his neck, and gives a determined scowl as she points off through the manufacturing complex. “They went that way! Giddy up, shiny pony!”

Gearing takes off with the filly on his back. And, after a few strides, takes flight and starts zooming towards the area she points at as he readies the auto axe with his forehooves. “Ohh I can’t wait to ax them a few questions!”

Footnote:

Perk Unlocked: Nerd Rage!

Nerd Rage! - You've been pushed around long enough! You’re down but not out, time to show Rainbow Dash what you’re worth and be 20% cooler! With the Nerd Rage perk, all damage you cause is increased and you take less damage from all sources whenever your Health drops to 20% or below.

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Credentials Locked . . .

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Errors Discovered . . .

Analyzing Data, Please Stand By . . .

Author's Note

Getting caught in an ornate trap can have long term far reaching consequences, and this is no exception.

* * * * *

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106 Miner Details

* * *

Back at Megamac, the Crater Side is getting pretty busy as more and more ponies come in for the evening. Many spread out and start ordering food and drinks and start socializing with other members of the community as the opportunity arises. And the seats quickly start filling up. Including the ones at the bar.

The barmaid walks over to the side closest to the front door and leans on the counter. “You sure are throwing those back pretty hard… Everything okay?”

Chert nods, and sinks his head onto his left hoof as he sniffles. “Y-yeah… e-everything’s fine… Wife and girls are just at home… I’m just… I’m just hanging out here for a bit to clear my head.”

The mare smirks as she says, “Ah… Code for ‘I dun goofed’ and now you’re trying to hide at the tavern while your wife cools off?”

The dirty white buck smashes his face into his hoof as he moans, “I- I did something… but… my wife and them are at home fine, so… yeah… I’ll just… I’ll just deal with it.”

The mare lets out a sigh as she sees him nursing his fourth glass of whiskey. She waves her hoof at it before she says, “Bud, I’m gonna have to cut you off. I don’t need you getting all weepy and falling over drunk in here. Sober up, wait a bit, then go talk things through with your wife. If you want, after you sober up some, I’ll talk with you about it and help you figure out a way to apologize to her or whatever, okay?”

He sniffles and buries his face into his hooves as they cradle the half drank glass on the counter. But then he nods a couple times to let her know he heard her.

She shakes her head then heads back the other way to deal with other clients along the rest of the length of the bar.

The bar’s wooden double doors swing wide, and a green light illuminates most of the bar as the doors open up suddenly. And a moment later the doors close, but the green light bathing the inside just gets brighter in the dim bar. The strange light draws ponies attention in short order. And it doesn't take long before everyone's turning to look at its source. And the stunned silence is palpable as individually everyone in the bar takes note of what just joined them inside of Crater Side.

The mare behind the bar counter stares at the glowing green light before she asks with a hushed whisper, “Is that Fixer?!”

The dirty white buck lifts his head, looking up towards the wall across the bar counter from him but not daring to look behind himself, and he starts shaking as he sees the green light get brighter and brighter around him. His heart rate begins to sky rocket and his bloodshot eyes grow wider by the second. And, even though he’s shaking while sitting there, he can feel the heavy hoof steps getting closer to him. But he doesn't turn and look at what he can actually feel getting closer to him. He’s terrified to. He’s not sure if it’s the liquor or if he’s finally passed out from what he’s drunk, but this definitely seems like the kind of thing he would have a nightmare about: the buck that he sold off to a bunch of raiders in exchange for his family, coming back for revenge on him. On some foalish level, he’s hoping this is just a nightmare. A nightmare that he can live with. But even through the drink dulling his senses, he’s pretty positive that this is real. And just as positive that he’s about to experience more pain than any single pony should be physically able to endure.

The other ponies turn and watch, and all eating and drinking comes to an absolute stop as they shamelessly watch the golden colored pegasus walk straight toward the dirty white buck at the bar counter. His wings glow so brightly it reminds some of them of a balefire blast, or at least what they’ve heard of them looking like with its ominous green glow.

Gearing stops on the far end of the bar counter, not far from Chert, and leans over onto the bar with a foreleg and stares at the side of the buck’s face. The only face in the entire building that isn’t directed at him at the moment.

No one says anything.

Gearing slowly stretches out his neck towards the buck. Waiting for him to look up, but the buck doesn’t and, after a few moments, Gearing breaks the silence as he leans on the wooden counter, making it creak under his weight as he says flatly, “I’m back.”

The buck jerks from the sound. It’s cold and merciless and like death itself to him. He slowly lifts his head and looks Gearing in the eye. And a cold sweat begins rapidly growing all over Chert’s body.

Gearing stares at Chert coldly, meanwhile his form is wreathed in magical energy coursing through his body as he’d taken an extra dose just to make sure that he’d get through everything. But, it’s not just the white light spilling out of certain parts of his body that draws such shock from the crowd. It’s not just the green light pouring out of his wings, even as ominous as it looks. Gearing is absolutely covered in blood, fur, bits of bone, and there are pieces of mane and tail hair hanging from in between his wing feathers. There are even pieces of hair strangely sticking out of the middle of a few crystal wings as the pieces had gotten locked in place during his hyper healing. A visual testament to the absolutely brutal fighting he had just taken part in.

Gearing, after maintaining hard eye contact with the dirty white buck for a few long seconds, asks, “So, your wife and kids…?”

Chert snorts, shakes, and says, “H-hey… p-please… I’ll step outside. Whatever you want… Just- just- don’t… Not my family… Please.” He reaches over, grabs his cup, and starts bringing it up to his lips. It shakes and rattles between his hooves as he’s trying to bring it up to drink it. “Just let me down this, and you can-”

Gearing snatches the cup from him with a gore covered wingtip, and holds it out to the side. He stares at him a bit, leaning in and looking him in the eye from only a few inches away from touching muzzles. He slowly pours the drink out onto the floor as he maintains hard eye contact with Chert. “I think you’ve had enough of this…” After he’s dumped out the cup, he sets it onto the counter right side up. “Now. Answer the question. Is your family safe?”

The buck nods and lets out a sigh. “They’re at home. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But they’re home now.”

Gearing nods as he looks the buck over. He takes in a deep breath, and then lets out a slow snort that causes a noxious fume to spill out and hit the buck in the face. He starts passing the buck, but then leans towards him sideways and says, “The next time some shit like that happens… Just fucking tell me about it…” He turns his face toward him, putting his lips near the buck’s ears as he growls. “I can deal with the shit easier when I know what I’m getting into…”

The buck shivers and shakes and sinks to the ground at Gearing’s hooves. He nods rapidly and looks down as he expects, at any second, to have his skull caved in by the pissed off golden monster looming over him. The fumes coming out of Gearing already are making it hard for him to breathe, and Chert doesn’t want to find out how far Gearing is willing and able to take his dragon impersonation.

Gearing continues walking past Chert and looks at the barmaid. And between the two ponies, his demeanor has already changed. He smiles at her as he says, “Hey. So. I found the assholes I was looking for… Most of them…” He lifts up a wing and shows the pieces of hair hanging from it. “I’m afraid one got away… If you hear about a buck named ‘Lucky’ coming through town, let Pile Driver know. Sandy hide. Blue mane. Dark red eyes. Annoyingly lucky and knows when the best time to run is. He’s at the top of my shit list.”

The mare nods quickly. But doesn’t say anything.

Gearing looks around at everyone else in the tavern, then looks at the barmaid again and waves nonchalantly. “Also, there’s a group of bounty hunters coming in. They’ve got quite the haul with them. So I’m pretty sure they’re going to want some good grub when they get here and get paid.” He leans towards the mare and his smile warms up a bit. “They got a little filly with them. She’s pink, no mark. She’s with her momma, an orange mare. Give that little filly whatever she wants, and put it on my tab. If she wants to eat a whole crate full of fancy buck cakes, let her. I’ll pay for it. That little filly did me a solid today and she deserves whatever happiness she can get.”

The mare smiles and nods. She looks around, at everyone else, as they stare gaping at Gearing, but none of them having the guts to say anything to him. She looks at him and tilts her head as she asks, “Is there anything I can get you though?” She looks him over and frowns as she says softly, “Looks like you’ve had a hard week in the last few hours.”

Gearing laughs and shakes his head. “Oooohhh you don’t know the half of it. But, I’m going to go get cleaned up and take a nap.” He waves as he turns and starts heading out as he starts looking through his bags. “I’ll see you all around.”

A light blue-gray buck in a cream colored long sleeve shirt with a red kerchief in the breast pocket steps up from the side. “Uh… Uhh… Mr. Fixer… sir?”

Gearing turns his head and looks at him as he’d been looking through his saddle bags to make sure they’ll last the trip home. They have been minimally repaired from where they were cut off of him, but he’s pretty sure they’re good enough to be functional. At least for now. They should last him long enough to get back to Stable 68 so he can get them properly repaired instead of the crappy job he had to do so far because of time constraints. Gearing instantly recognizes the owner of the establishment and relaxes a bit before he asks, “Yeah?”

The buck takes his derby hat off and fumbles with it in front of his chest as he tries to think of what to say. He looks Gearing over. And many things run through his mind. But, out of everything he can say, he simply looks up at Gearing in the eye and gives him a warm smile. “Thanks for what you’ve done for us lately… And I mean for more than the lights.” He lamely points back towards the ceiling lights before going back to rotating his derby with his forehooves. “All the raiders. The slavers… You saved Pile Driver… I mean just everything you’ve done for us, I don’t know how-”

Gearing raises a hoof, and the buck instantly stops speaking. “You want to thank me? Then keep being the good ponies I know you folks are. Help each other when you can. And, if you ever hear about any slaver or raider activity, don’t keep it to yourself. If you or anyone you know gets threatened, get help… They can’t be trusted and it’s not worth the risks. Life won’t improve as long as ponies fight each other over crumbs. Instead of fighting and killing each other over scraps, let’s build something better. Okay?” He waves a forehoof around as he adds, “Remember, we in Equestria went from building with wood and rocks to making steel skyscrapers and with advanced technology all in a single generation. We can do it again. It just takes working together… Okay? Good ponies can accomplish anything when we work together.”

The owner stares at him for a few moments before he starts nodding rapidly. A few other ponies start stomping their hooves in applause and, after a few more seconds, they are joined by whistles and other cries of agreement from the local ponies.

Seemingly making his point, Gearing turns and leaves Crater Side. And the last thing he does on the way out is shoot a side eye at the dirty white buck at the bar counter. They maintain hard eye contact for only a split second. And, after that, Gearing is already out of the tavern and into the beginning of night. The next second Chert has collapsed onto the counter, bawling uncontrollably. And though no one says anything to him, the barmaid slides him a glass of water on the house and goes about her business elsewhere as she practically starts ignoring him.

Gearing’s trip back to the stable isn’t as direct as he normally would like. And it’s in direct conflict with his desire to get back as quickly as possible and jump into the waiting limbs of his mare. But there are still a few things he needs to do before he can indulge himself in some patented Sable loving. So instead of listening to the two protesting pegasi in his head who constantly list off the reasons why he does in fact deserve some nice things at the moment, and how much he’s earned it, he swings by the initial ambush site that started his whole nightmare. The weapons and materials from the worst of it, he left for the group of bounty hunters that he met. They did a great job of pinning the gang down. And were, in fact, making excellent headway in corralling. And then Gearing suddenly showed up. With the auto axe. And the fight increased in fervor as the gangers realized that he was very much back, very much alive, was fully intact, was now glowing, and was very very very angry.

Though Gearing was sensible enough to toss the pink filly to her mother before putting the auto axe to work in a sealed room where he didn’t care about being shot. They sealed themselves in that room hoping to hold off the bounty hunters long enough to drain them of their ammo before launching a counter attack with their numerical superiority. But the way Gearing was feeling, he didn’t care about getting shot in the face, point blank, with a variety of weaponry. None of their pathetic weapons could out damage the healing rate he actively had coursing through his body. And the only way they had to go was out through the door that he knocked over with his own body.

But outside of that doorway, beyond Gearing, was a firing squad of bounty hunters that were already licking their lips at the pay day they were about to receive.

Although, after seeing the aftermath of what Gearing had unleashed on the gangers in that room, all of the bounty hunters had the good sense not to ask him how he managed to break an auto axe on just ponies. And that auto axe was one of the few things Gearing actually took with him from the mining complex.

His next stop was at the manufacturing plant where Handy was involuntarily made to perform a colander impersonation with the holes put in him. By the time he’d arrived, he already had a plan for how he was going to gather everything, and went the most efficient route to go from body to body once he made it to the complex around the tower. Once there he quickly zips around and grabs the various weapons that he can find on the kills that he’d made earlier in the day. To his surprise, no one had come back through here. Whether because the survivors were too busy trying to run for their own life, or what, he doesn’t know. But he quickly strips all of them of their weapons, plus anything else they might have of value.

He doesn't even bother with the jumpsuits except making sure there’s nothing hidden in them. From his perspective, they’re so disgusting they aren’t even worth cleaning. And that’s before you add in the biohazard of blood and pony innards covering them. The lieutenant and the commander in particular had more gear than the average pony of the group. And he strips them all the way down. Including the actual Equestrian Defense Force uniform from the gang’s ‘commander’. He’s not happy with the buck having this. He’s not sure where he got it from. But it feels dishonorable to him for such a pony to be wearing something with so many symbols on it and to do such horrible things on the very soil the oaths attached to it were meant to protect. He grabs several other bags and clears out all of the weapons and armor that he can find, then heads up to the roof. He quickly opens the fan access, and pulls out the bags he had stored up here before following Locke. And, again, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds that no one had tried to run off with any of it. But he doesn't question his luck in this case, after all, he paid for all of this with absurd amounts of his clear viscous blood.

After loading himself down with all of his hard won loot, Gearing takes flight and heads towards the stable. He takes the same general pattern that he’d taken before, heading where he’d landed with Swift and Handy earlier the night before, and then starts on his way towards the stable from that landing point. Except, this time, he simply flies just above the ground and goes as quickly as he can, as he’s hauling the dozen duffle bags with his legs that are only off the ground by a mere foot or so. He’s also not zipping around and trying to dodge any imaginary incoming fire this time. With the mood that he’s in, anyone stupid enough to shoot at him after the day he has had is just asking to be crammed inside of a tiny trashcan and punted across Equestria.

Gearing gets to the hidden hatch in short order and starts heading down. But as soon as he gets the hatch closed, and before he even starts moving towards the stable’s main door, the sirens for the stable door’s opening protocol start alerting their intention to open. Gearing stops just outside of the front door, and waits for it as he wonders who has been watching the entrance and who is so eager for him to get back. In normal situations that answer is a short list of one mare. Currently it could be several, and most of them would not be too happy with him.

The door opens and he doesn’t even manage to take a single step forward before Swift zips out of the stable.

She screams at him as she’s barreling straight towards him, “How dare you leave us behind!” She comes in with a swing of her forehoof, not her powerhoof, and aimed right at his face. But, Gearing stops it cold with a single forehoof as she’s homing in on him. And he doesn’t even try to catch it this time as he becomes as rigid and unyielding as a stubborn earth pony’s head as he actually lets her hurt herself on his hoof. She recoils, shakes her now sore hoof, and gets back in his face as she snarls, “You just couldn’t wait, could you!? Why?! Why didn’t you let us go too!?”

A green glint catches her eye, and she looks over to the side where her shadow is blocking some of the light coming out of the stable and overhead lights. She waves a forehoof back and forth over it, before leaning in closer to confirm her suspicions. She puts a hoof and a wing over his wing, blocking as much light as she can from reaching it, and sees how there is still a faint glow coming from under her hoof. She looks Gearing in the eye, who, at this point, is out right glaring at her. She asks softly, “Your wing’s glowing again…?” Gearing just narrows his eyes slightly at her. She asks quietly, almost mouthing it as she looks at him. “… That bad?”

Gearing’s left eye twitches a bit, but, again, he doesn’t say anything. Instead he unhooks Handy’s bloody pneumatic sledgehammer from his back, and presents it to her. She takes it, and holds it with a hoof as she slowly processes the chain of events again. After that, she moves in to give him a hug, but stops as she finally sees all of the blood and bits of pony all over him. Instead she whispers, “I won’t say anything to Sable.” Before she pulls back and heads back inside. She looks at her hoof as she’s entering and screws her face up in disgust as she says, “This is disgusting, Gearing… Go take a bath, would you?” And along the way she intercepts both Apple Armor and Plum Pie and directs them back where they had come from. In the case of Plum Pie she’s so obstinate about it that Swift actually picks her up. And Apple Armor gets a few swats on the flank from her tail as she chases after him through the hallways.

Once inside of the stable, and the door is closing behind him, Gearing sees that a couple protectaponies have been standing off to the side of the pathway. He looks at them for a moment then asks, “Could you help me carry this down to arr and dee?”

The closest protectapony starts moving towards him as he comments, “The crea-TOR has stationed us here for salvage transfer. So, yes! Lead the way!” And Gearing slowly starts passing bags onto the protectaponies, who use their cables to carry the various duffle bags, before Gearing heads down to the R&D section with the one large bag still within his forehooves.

After he gets to the Research and Development’s decontamination chamber, he zips right through it, skips decontamination protocol, then heads into the Research and Development section. He sets the bag down not far away from the door and looks around for Sable. But, not immediately seeing anything, he quickly takes off everything he still has on him, mangled bags and all, and sets them on the floor near the duffle he’d brought in. After that he turns around and heads back into the Research and Development decontamination chamber. He stands on the other side and quickly loads himself up with the bags from the protectaponies, who dump them into the decontamination chamber with him, and then he takes them from there to put them inside the actual Research and Development section. After getting the practical mountain of salvage stacked up near one of the computer consoles, he turns and heads into the decontamination chamber again. The door to the chamber hangs open a bit longer than it would normally, and just as Gearing turns to look at the door with a raised eyebrow, Sable trots out of the back storage area.

They look at each other for a moment across the research lab before Sable asks, “May I join you?”

Gearing steps further into the chamber and away from the door as he looks at her. “Sable, the one thing I want right now, is to feel your hooves on me. So, yes. And as much as you want.”

Sable trots happily in place and then bounds into the decontamination chamber with him with a massive grin on her muzzle. She starts reaching for him as she’s pulling out a few tools she’s already grabbed to help him, but stops as she looks him over and starts getting a good view of him. She gives his form a careful examination as she says, “My Darling Gearing… you have… organic material… from many ponies… embedded all over your body…”

Gearing nods as he lets out a sigh. “It got… unpleasant…”

She quickly starts helping him clean off as the decontamination protocol of the Research and Development section starts running. She keeps digging pieces out of them and starts getting frustrated as a couple bone fragments really seem wedged in there in a couple spots. The fur, mane, and tail hairs in his wings seem even worse as the hair had somehow gotten wrapped up and tangled inside of his wings and she’s not sure how to get them out without simply cutting it away as small pieces at a time. But that wouldn’t get the fragments that are actually encapsulated by the crystals of his wings. After the one cycle has finished, she’s barely made any headway. Except for the blood and loose bits. Gearing even stretched his head back and gargled with the cleaning solution before spitting it up in the air like a fountain as he tried to make a joke of the situation. But, after the cycle is over, Sable leans back and looks him in the eye. “My love, this is going to take a while… far longer than normal…”

Gearing lets out an annoyed sigh as he looks up at the ceiling. He contemplates going through a few more cycles. But then thinks better of it. And has another idea in mind. He slowly lowers his muzzle, and looks at Sable. His instincts make him want to tackle her, wrap her up in his hooves, and just hold her. That’s all he wants to do. The pair of pegasi in his head are waving little banners and yelling into megaphones for Team Sable and urging him to do exactly that. But, he also doesn’t want to worry her. On some level he’s grateful for Swift not to fink on him about what she suspects he’s been through. He looks over at the door leading back to the main part of 68 and asks, “What do you think of… me going ahead and hopping in the autodoc, and letting it remove the rest of the organic material while it checks me for damage? Before we do anything else I mean?”

Sable looks at him for a moment before replacing her various tools and setting them in the R&D side of the chamber before going out with him on the side facing the rest of the stable. The two walk along, with Sable a bit in front and leading the way this time. After they get through the medical bay's decontamination chamber, and Gearing is heading towards the auto doc, Gearing finally asks, “How’s Handy?”

Sable starts helping Gearing into the chamber for the auto doc as she replies, “Subject Handy Hooves has recovered from his injuries and is out of danger. However, as expected of such serious injuries, he will need time to recover still. He had a substantial loss of blood and will need rest before he’s able to continue on with any further strenuous tasks. On top of the round in the auto doc, he was also given infusions of synthetic blood and injections of blood creation stimulants to speed up the recovery process. Full recovery is expected within a week. Physically he is already fine and will mostly be dealing with fatigue related issues until then.” After helping get Gearing into the chamber, and before closing the chamber’s lid she looks him in the eyes and says softly, “He’s resting in bed with his foals…”

Gearing smiles and relaxes back into the chamber as he closes his eyes and lets out a long gush of air. “Good. I’m glad. I was worried the auto doc wasn’t enough.”

Sable starts the machine, and stands off to the side as it works. Sable keeps watching over Gearing and the process and, after a while of it running, she actually extends a cable from herself and plugs into the side of the machine. And, from her position, she blatantly eavesdrops on the continued actions that the machine is taking. But, she says nothing and doesn’t even try to engage Gearing in any form of conversation.

Gearing, for his part, is okay with that. He’s not sure what all the machine is wanting to do to him before declaring him at full health. The indicator on his pipbuck showing his current health status was the thing of nightmares for most ponies. He’s not sure how many others would survive the same relative damage he’d received. Seeing the caricature of the crying pegasus with nearly everything crippled was surreal. And he can’t help admitting that at the time he did feel about as empty as the system depicted his life was. He’s not sure how he feels about that and how that tingling feeling made the excruciating pain fade from his notice and be replaced by pure rage. But now one thing he does notice is feeling certain parts of his body move around again on their own. Using the auto doc’s ability to separate flesh without the patient actually feeling it thanks to some of its enchantments the machine digs through Gearing’s entire body. Even so, the nerve deadening field is not fully working on him as, in a couple instances, he does feel some sharp stings in certain parts of him. Sometimes in some deep parts of him at that. But, as usual, he doesn't move at all. He just lets it happen and suffers through it without making any complaints. Though it’s not like he has much choice in the matter there. The special mods that are being used to allow the machine to help him correctly are the most welcome thing for him on this side of the bombs dropping. Because if it wasn’t for them, he’d be in absolute agony as the machine tried to heal him, and in the process there would be a very real possibility of it causing more harm than good. Assuming it would even register him as a living being in the first place, that is.

Gearing can’t help but feel the time slipping by as he’s laying there. But, still, the machine has him trapped and has given no signal, at all, that it’s even close to being done with him. And the longer it goes, the more concerned he actually gets about it.

As time passed, a few of Apple Armor’s friends had come through to see how things were, having heard that Gearing was back and already knowing how bad Swift and Handy ended up. But after sitting there for a while, and him not exiting, they leave without so much as asking a question. If whatever is being done to him is taking that long, they know it’s serious enough that he needs to be left alone.

They’re smart kids like that.

But after receiving an hour of treatment, and the door showing no sign of opening, Gearing finally opens his eyes and starts looking around. He’s not sure if he’d simply fallen asleep, though he’s pretty sure he hadn’t, but something’s not right. So he finally calls out to Sable to try and figure out what’s going on.

“Sable, could you check the machine? I think it might have locked up or something.”

“I’m already monitoring the auto doc chamber, my darling. It is still functioning within normal parameters,” Sable replies flatly.

Gearing blinks a few times before asking, “Why is it taking so long? I figured I’d be in and out in five, maybe ten minutes?”

There’s a delay before Sable leans over the chamber and looks through the glass at him. She narrows her eyes a bit at him then replies, “I believe the one who is most capable of answering that question, my love, is you yourself…”

Gearing looks up at her, he notices the cable coming out of her neck, and he instantly recognizes one of her data cables. “Uh… Sable… What- What is it telling you?”

Sable looks in at him, before rearing up and planting her forehooves on the glass on either side of her face as she gets close to it and stares in at him. “Enough that you are not coming out of that chamber until it has completed its cycle. If you attempt to do so, I shall use my laser and weld the lid closed. Am I clear, my love?”

Gearing looks up at her and sees a scowl. An actual scowl. And pointed at him. Her eyes, their soothing blue, even flashed a different color for a moment. Not red, but a slightly different shade of blue. Enough to let him know that something’s up and she’s not happy with him of all ponies and that it’s probably in his best interest not to push the situation at the moment.

Gearing looks her in the eyes and gives a slight nod. “I’m not going anywhere, Sable…” He gives her a faint smile. “If you promise to stay right there… while this does its thing, I’ll promise to stay right here while it does too.”

Sable looks at him and gives him a faint smile. “That is acceptable, my love.” She keeps looking in and leans on the capsule just a bit, but maintains the majority of her weight with her own hind hooves.

It takes another fifteen minutes of working on Gearing before the machine finally signals it has finished its process and indicates it is okay to open the door again.

But Gearing stays laying there as he looks up at her. After a few more moments of looking at each other through the glass Gearing asks, “So, nurse, am I clear to leave the bed now?”

Sable looks at him and smirks. Then her eyes look elsewhere as she focuses on the information coming from the cable again. And then she nods as she disconnects the cable from the auto doc and puts it back where it’s supposed to be. “Yes, my darling Gearing, you may leave the chamber.” She pulls back and helps lift the lid, and then stands off to the side using a couple of her cables to help him climb out of the chamber and get to his hooves onto the ground. It’s an entirely unnecessary thing to do, but she wants to, and he appreciates it. Plus it gives them an additional excuse for further contact with each other. Not that either of them actually needed that.

As Gearing is standing upright to his hooves, with Sable on the other side of him, he starts stretching. As he’s stretching his wings and head up towards the ceiling, Sable walks a bit away from the chamber and looks at him.

As soon as his head is back down enough where they can have eye contact again, Sable holds up the jar where foreign objects are collected, and asks, “My love… Care to explain this?”

Gearing looks down and his eyes jump wide open as he takes a step back.

The container is half full of various fragments. There are a few pieces of lead, steel, rock, broken glass, and other bits and pieces. There are even more than a few pieces of bone, hide, and hair mixed in. But the vast majority of it is clearly brass. And relatively shiny at that. There are entire hunks where cogs had been shattered. There are twisted and misshapen plates of a variety of thicknesses. And, among all of it, is an entire pile of practical powder. But, it’s not powder. It’s shavings. And clumped slag. Shavings and slag that were caused when an auto axe was taken to him and cut him in half. The fragments had been knocked inside of him. And, when he’d been healed by his implant at the last possible second, most of it was sealed up inside of him.

The very thing he warns others about happening as a possibility of using rapid regeneration based healing. That’s what happened to him.

Sable stares at him for a few moments before commenting, “If you do not wish to tell me about it, I would prefer you to say so instead of trying to make up an excuse.”

Gearing looks at her for a few moments before he says softly, “I don’t want to lie to you. I would rather not tell you the specifics. I- I don’t want to hurt you… But, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you… but not here. Down in the arr and dee department. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. For now, at least.”

Sable frowns as she looks at him. She stares at the container for a few moments before she sets the entire thing to the side on the counter next to the recovery chamber. “If that is what my darling Gearing wishes, that is what we shall do.” She walks over and joins him, then gives him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you are feeling better? Did the machine do everything that it should have?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and lets it out a few times before nodding. “Yes, I believe so. I feel a little… off… But that usually happens after having to resort to using… something…” There’s a delay before he says quietly, “Let’s get to the arr and dee section so I can tell you what had happened.

The pair walk down to the Research and Development department, side by side, but not saying anything. Sable gently tested boundaries with him along the way, looking for what he was comfortable with, but hoping to comfort him as much as possible. Her cables wrap up and over his shoulders, gently rubbing on his wither region and the area around his wings. And, to her delight, he actually leans towards her as she does. An act that blatantly signals that not only is he okay with it, but he desires more. By the time they get to the Research and Development decontamination chamber, he’s wrapped her up in one of his wings and is holding her close to himself. They skip the R&D chambers protocols, given they both just came from Medical, and head inside.

He pulls away from her, walks a bit further into the room, before turning around and sitting down. He looks at Sable for a few moments before asking, “What do you want to know?”

Sable walks a bit closer as she looks him over. His body, without question, is in perfect condition now. It has that slight golden shine to it that makes him seem just that much more appealing to her. Even if he’s not turned around or bending over and giving her the best view of himself to her. She sits down, across from him, and mirrors his body positioning. “Everything. From the time you left. To the time you returned.”

Gearing stares at her for a few seconds before saying quietly, “It’s bad, Sable… Like right up there with The Core… Maybe even worse if you actually wanted to quantify the two experiences…”

“Tell me, please, if you are willing… I want to know what my Gearing has been through,” Sable asks politely.

Gearing looks up at the ceiling as he takes in a deep breath. After a few more cycles of breathing, a completely unnecessary maneuver, he lets it out in a gush. “Nettlekiss? Nettlekiss are you there?”

No one responds.

“Nettlekiss, I know you monitor the microphones in the stable. They are turned on by default. So I know you’re listening…” Gearing says a bit grumpily.

The speaker near him kicks on as Nettlekiss grumbles, “What do you want, you stupid stallion?”

Gearing keeps looking up at the ceiling before he says, “Nettlekiss… I think you’ve seen and been through enough. You don’t want to hear this. So I’d suggest you turn off the microphones in here for a while. If you don’t, you might hear something that you can’t unhear, and that’ll just lead to a spiral. If you leave it on, and hear something bad, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The speaker chimes back. “I’m a big girl, Gearing. I can take care of myself.”

Gearing looks over at the speaker and deadpans, “Funny, I’m a one ton metallic monster and couldn’t…” There’s a long silence before Gearing turns over towards Sable and lets out another sigh. “It involves an industrial strength auto axe used for tearing down things for recycling, and multiple ponies finding out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that…”

The microphone and speakers click in the R&D section as they give various pops and static before no more noise of any kind comes out of any of them.

“Nettlekiss?” Gearing asks. “You still there?”

“My Darling Gearing, Nettlekiss has informed me that she would like to refrain from taking part in this meeting. But has asked me to relay to her any pertinent information, minus the, as she put it, ‘gory details’… Is that acceptable to you, my darling?”

Gearing nods and smirks as he looks down. “Yeah… that’s fine.”

Sable scoots a bit close before she asks, “What was that about an ‘industrial strength auto axe’, my love?”

Gearing looks up at her and frowns as he says, “It’s bad, Sable… but, let me start at the beginning…”

She reaches over, grabs his head, and in short order has smashed his face into her chest as she starts curling back and pulling him into her. Before he can really say much else, she’s already wrapped him up with her legs and coils. And then, after having him entirely encompassed in a comforting cocoon, she speaks softly into his ear, “Share what you will, my love… I’m here for you.”

And so, for the second time in the span of the day, Gearing is left explaining a whole string of physical and emotional baggage to Sable. But, unlike previously, this time he intentionally avoids telling her a few things. He avoids explaining the extent of the damage that the auto axe had done to him. How it practically cut him in half. How it almost killed him. He down plays its severity as realistically as he can. He doesn’t want her knowing how close to death he truly came. But the damage she’d uncovered was not something he could hide. Not from her. So he does explain the whole situation, but artistically. But, instead of exaggerating to make things more exciting, he cuts that part down to a more manageable size. He even assures her that the spike that had been used on him, had been destroyed.

Which is true. Because after dealing with the mining themed gang of psychos, Gearing went back to the spike, still coiled up and bent into the ground like a giant ‘U’ with his parts all around it, and cut it to pieces. And, in the process, whatever enchantments were on it were destroyed because after he’d sliced it enough times, he tried one of the ends, and in this case his strength allowed him to pull it right out of the ground with little trouble. And, to prove a point, he chucked it on the far end of the manufacturing area to get lost among the rest of the rusting rubble. Though he pointedly ignores the order in which those events had happened.

And, afterwards, when he’s finally done telling on himself, he keeps hold of Sable and just resumes nuzzling in and against her. It’s a while before the silence is broken between them.

“My darling Gearing needs to take care of himself. That could have ended very badly very easily…” Sable says softly, as she continues to stroke his back with a hoof and nuzzle him with her cheek.

“I know, Sable. I’m aware of that. Things snowballed quickly,” Gearing says with a sigh.

After a few more moments Sable asks, “What would my darling Gearing like to do now?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath, then a smile forms across his muzzle as an idea pops into his mind from somewhere in the void that even surprises the little pegasi in there that live rent free. Gearing stretches up a bit to look at her in the eyes, and gives her a warm smile. “How about we cash in some of what I owe you?” He gives her a soft kiss. Then starts increasing them in frequency as he works up her muzzle to her ear as he starts gently rubbing along her body with both his forehooves and his wings. He gives her ear a playful bite before he says, “Make me feel alive, my love. Make me glad to have made it ho-UGH!”

He’d gone too far with his teasing.

She’d gone too long without him.

So, between the two sins, he has a lot to make up for and barely gets a word in edgewise before he’s pinned to the floor of the Research and Development department with his muzzle full of her tongue.

Footnote:

Quest Perk: Local Legend III – “He killed’em with fireballs from his eyes, and bolts of lightning from his arse!” Your various deeds have become the stuff of legends. Jokes and tall tales are spun about you, including getting in a fight with Death itself and making it cry uncle. Some of them are even true. Your reputation has far outpaced you. Those in positions of power are starting to have to factor you into whatever they do. Those with a positive outlook of your adventures are even more likely to provide yet more favorable rates, divulge information you request or that they even think may help you, and will go out of their way to help you in any way they feasibly can all in an attempt to curry your favor. How generous they will be is proportional to the reputation you have with them and how useful they think you are to them. More powerful individuals may even send representatives to seek you out with special offers, requests, or to volunteer information they know is valuable to you. Note: For those that you have been causing problems for, expect proportionally the exact opposite with continuing hostilities thrown at you. You’ve gotten to be such a headache, that your enemies can’t simply ignore you anymore. Even more powerful groups will start working together to try and eliminate you. You’re hurting their bottom line, and they won’t stand for that. The further you go and the more you do, the worse your detractors will become. No good deed goes unpunished after all.

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Parity Check Failure . . .

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Credentials Locked . . .

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

Processing, Please Stand By . . .

‘BlueMac’ Sub Partition Errors Discovered . . .

Author's Note

Little detour almost cost Gearing everything, but on top of it's long term effects there's one buck that now has the dubious honor of being on his list by name.

* * * * *

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1 Rude Awakening

War. War never changes. It is the one constant. Though the actors, methodology, and very form may be randomized, the beast known as ‘War’ remains. Sometimes sleeping, just waiting for the right time to rear its ugly head upon the world. Despite a thousand years of peace, the war that fell upon ponykind, Equestria, and the world as a whole, did so with a speed and ferocity that made the previous peace seem like a fool’s fantasy. Yet, when the beast of war stampeded across the land, laying low both creation and life, it seemed to ignore a few. For as the bombs fell, and the world began its death throes, some were spared the balefire kiss goodbye. Sheltered underground in the relative safety of reinforced bunkers known as Stables.

In the stables they would be able to carry on living. Safe from the hellscape of the surface. Not perishing in a war that was coming to its climactic closure.

Whether they wanted to or not.

As jarring as waking up to that hell would be, imagine the increase of the shock… if you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep in the first place.

“Stable-Tec, what is the purpose of this room?” A stallion’s voice pierces the dark as the thick metal door slides out of the way. In the doorway an earth pony with a blue coat and a maintenance jumpsuit stands backlit by the hallways emergency lights.

“Room designated ‘reserved for long term storage’.” The robotic mare’s voice replies over a selection of speakers in the hallway and the room.

One of the speaker boxes sparks as it has given its final message.

The stallion’s head whips over in the direction of the sound, taking an instinctive step backwards into the hallway. After a few moments of no further action, he flips on the light function of his PipBuck and illuminates the surrounding area with its odd glow.

He peeks in the room in the direction of the last sparking and asks, “Stable-Tec, why was this room missing from the layout map?”

“Unknown,” reply the speakers, save for the one that doesn’t even spark this time.

“Greaaaat…” He turns his head around to look at his companion still in the hallway. He motions inside as he says, “Come with me. Keep an eye out for any surprises.”

As he is entering, a metallic heavy set of hooves follows him in. “Yeah. I hear ya, ya zebra loving muckraker… oh please let there be something in here to squish. My combat inhibitor needs a break!”

The glowing eyes of the protectapony sweep back and forth, quickly, scanning the entire room as they continue looking, and hoping, for some sort of hostile entity to appear.

“Sarge,” the earth pony sighs, “Nonlethal weapons only unless I say otherwise, regardless of reason, understood?”

The protectapony’s head zips to look at the stallion. “You damned zebra lover! Ruining all my fun! I’d slag the lot of you if it weren’t for this gods. Damned. Combat inhibitor!”

The pony’s eyes narrow on the protectapony. “Confirm the order for nonlethal usage.”

The protectapony hangs its head dejectedly. “Con-firrrrrmed.”

The stallion perks up and starts trotting around, looking at the inventory codes on the sides of the many crates that seem to fill this room in rows. “Dammit. Looks like it’s all various spare parts, and not even things that’d break down often.” He sighs as his eyes skip over the collection of nearly uniform crates. “I was hoping for some medical supplies… maybe even some weapons and ammo.”

He stops midstride as he sees a break in the tedium of the storage unit. Against the back wall, surrounded by other boxes, he notices one crate of a different size.

He shoves one of the other boxes out of the way to get a better look, and finds a crate that is much bigger than any of the other boxes. Sweeping his hooves over it, he checks the box for serial information. He doesn’t recognize the storage code and inputs it into his PipBuck.

“Stable-Tec, I don’t know this code, what is it?”

“Ministry of Wartime Technology shipment designation,” the speakers around him reply.

“Ministry of Wartime Technology?” he mutters. “What the hell’s that doing here?”

“Unknown,” the robotic mare replies.

“I wasn’t asking- never mind. Stable-Tec, what does the shipment invoice say is in this container?” He tries to temper his hopes. The Ministry of Wartime Technology has some pretty impressive toys, so this could be anything. Although, that anything could include a radioactive water filled toilet. Okay. Not really likely, but it was something to keep in mind while trying to solve this puzzle.

“Nothing,” came the reply flatly.

“Nothing? Please clarify, Stable-Tec.” Handy looks at his PipBuck with a raised eyebrow.

“I apologize for the confusion, Head of Maintenance Handy Hooves. I replied as such, because there is no invoice on file associated with this shipment crate. Thus, ‘nothing’.”

Handy looks it over suspiciously for a moment. “A strange delivery in a storage area that doesn’t exist… uhg.” He looks at his PipBuck. “Any clue when this was brought into the stable?”

“Transmitting relevant data to the PipBuck of Head of Maintenance Handy Hooves.”

He scrolls through the information and grumbles at the long string of techno babble. “Wait.” He goes through the record again. “The day before the bombs fell?” He looks up at the crate with a mix of concern and frustration. “That can’t be a coincidence, right?”

“I apologize, Head of Maintenance Handy Hooves, I do not have any relevant data to answer your question.”

He pulls out a crowbar from his saddlebags and steps up to the crate. “Whatever this is, we need to know now. If it’s anything dangerous it needs to be dealt with.” He jams the point into the side lip then looks over to the protectapony standing nearby. “Sarge, help me open this, but remember: No lethal weapons unless I tell you to.”

The protectapony clops over and grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you’re the boss.”

They get the large side panel open rather easily, with a faint hiss of sucking air that Handy doesn’t even notice, fully intact without even breaking. It only takes a glance inside to see why.

The wooden crate seems to just be a facade. The interior is a reinforced metal solid box, with the wood attached to the sides for no other apparent reason aside from looks. The actual inside of this ‘metal box’ has a variety of equipment in it, attached to the sides, with a variety of braces, cables, and supports holding the apparent focus of this box in the center. He directs the light from his PipBuck towards the contents partially suspended in the center. The decidedly pony shape catches him off guard. Not so much for what it looks like, but for what it doesn’t.

“Help me get this out, Sarge,” he asks as he slides the panel they had removed to the side.

Between the two, they use the internal supports to slide and pull out the large construct that takes up the majority of the inside.

Handy moves slowly, cautiously, not sure what this is, and what could happen if this thing suddenly activated. He’s seen protectaponies before, his companion is a protectapony. But this? This is beyond anything he’s even imagined. Its excessive articulation with overlapping segments forming its outer shell almost makes him think it’s some sort of suit of armor.

But, no, it would have to be a freakishly out of proportion pony to fit inside of this. Then, there were the countless numbers of gears. Hundreds. Thousands even. This entire… thing, seemed to be composed of gears, with a few interlocking plates over areas making it look like it was wearing metallic lamellar armor. And all of it, every visible inch of the surface, had been polished beyond reason. Not quite to a mirror finish, but so close to it that it gives the high quality brass construct a practical golden glow. Enough to make one wonder if it was actually made entirely of solid gold at first glance.

Except the wings.

Yes, this construction was a mesmerizing replica of some pegasus. Except instead of soft graceful feathers, this practical piece of art had wings like stained glass. Multiple painfully placed segments of… crystal? Yes. Not simply glass. These shards are masterfully carved. The wings, while currently folded against the body, appear to have the articulation and hinge points for a full range of motion.

But, there’s no way something like this could fly. Right? The weight alone would make that- Handy gives it a push to the side with one forehoof, then both, and it barely moves. Yup. Despite the wings this has to be as earth bound as he is.

Between Handy and Sarge they manage to get this artistic beauty onto its side using the cabling and supports of the box to help keep it from simply crashing over like a domino. Handy kneels down to look at the now exposed underside, hoping for some sort of access panel. There are none in the middle, unfortunately, not that he can tell at least. So, he drifts his eyes as he carefully examines it and his view shifts to the left towards the tail end… His jaw drops, as he slightly recoils in surprise.

“Anatomically correct stallion pegasus protectapony?” Handy blurts out in disbelief.

“That slag heap doesn’t match any schematic of protectapony from Robronco, ya zebra lover!” Sarge barks indignantly.

Handy raises an eyebrow and looks at Sarge before shaking his head and returns his attention to the task at hoof. While intentionally trying to direct his attentions away from the metallic sheath to his left. There’s no apparent access panels in the front of the chest, or sides, at least none that he can figure out. His eyes settle on the left foreleg of this metal doppelganger of pony life. There on its leg, just like his, is a very recognizable device.

A PipBuck.

A bit bigger than normal and practically archaic looking by PipBuck standards. No discernable model number or other identifying information can be seen. But it is undoubtedly a PipBuck. Of some kind. It seems to be heavily modified. But, to what end, he can only guess.

Feeling like he’s pushed his luck quite far enough, he pulls out a coil of multithreaded cabling and starts wrapping up the winged protectapony. Afterwards he hands the ends to Sarge. He points at Sarge with a hoof as he says, “Only nonlethal methods of combat, and only if it becomes hostile and attacks first.”

“One can hope! Come on ya zebra loving slag-heap, give me a reason!”

Handy shakes his head and pulls out the data cable from his PipBuck. “Maybe this is the access port?” He connects the cable to a data port on the side of the odd PipBuck, and nearly shits himself at the sudden results.

A spark arcs out from the connection cable as Handy tries to connect his cable to the port on the odd device that looks like a PipBuck. He jerks away with a start, both to avoid the tingling sensation jumping up his foreleg, and out of fright at what he’d seen. The PipBuck, and the construct at his hooves seem to come alive at the exact same moment.

“What the hell’s wrong with you!? This is beyond evil, what kind of sick fuck comes up with this-“ the voice of the mechanical pegasus comes out loud, clear, and only slightly robotic. The head pauses as its mouth hangs open and it stops mid-rant as it finally takes in its surroundings. Its eyes whip back and forth, yes, eyes, not simple scanners though they are made of a variety of metal.

He looks down at himself, with the random cables tying down his legs and holding his wings down to himself. Fear starts to show in his eyes. A weird thing to note in something that looks so bizarrely artificial. His eyes whip back and forth for a bit, as he gently tests the cables binding him. “W- what’s going on… You some kinda perverts or something? I’m not into this kinky shit! Get it off me!”

Sarge lowers his laser and points right at the pegasus’s head. “Oh, that’s right… keep fighting… Yeah. Attack me. You know you want to!”

The pegasus looks at the protectapony and snorts in a huff before going still and not moving.

Handy looks at Sarge and barks, “Stop trying to antagonize it! I see what you’re trying to do. No fighting, at all, unless I explicitly authorize it… even if it attacks you!”

Sarge whips his head up to look at Handy. “Oh… come on… t- that’s not fair!” There’s a pause before he asks quietly, “But if he attacks you, that’s different…” He chuckles and pokes the pegasus, “Hey, go ahead, attack him if you dare! You can take’em!”

Handy puts a hoof over his eyes as he grumbles, “If you keep this up I’m going to have to shut you down. Now,” he stomps his hoof into the ground for emphasis as he continues, “stop antagonizing it! That’s an order!”

The pegasus looks up at his captors before snarling at Handy, “I’m not an it!” He throws his head back towards Sarge. “That is an it.”

Handy looks at the pegasus for a few moments in thought before asking, “What are you? I’ve not seen a protectapony like you before.”

The pegasus snorts. “I told you, I’m not a machine! I’m not some automaton!” He rolls onto his stomach, lifts his hind quarters with his legs, and shakes his flank at Handy. “Do I look like I have a serial number to you?!”

Handy flinches and steps back, while trying to avoid staring at the anatomically correct rear end of this mechanical wonder before him. But, indeed, he doesn’t notice a serial number. No code. No insignia. The flank is entirely blank. And he doesn’t see it anywhere else either.

“Well,” Handy begins evenly, “what are you then, if you’re not a protectapony?”

“I’m a pegasus… Duh. My name’s Gearing. I work for Stable-Tec.”

Whatever Handy was expecting. That wasn’t it.

“Riiiight… Stable-Tec,” Handy begins without much strength in his words. “And how am I supposed to believe that?”

Gearing looks around then weakly holds up his left forehoof, as best he can despite the restraints. “My credentials are on my PipBuck, I can show you if you’ll call off your bot and let me.”

Handy smirks. “Yeah, right. I’m not that stupid… I have a better idea.” He taps on his PipBuck and asks with a smug voice, “Stable-Tec... Please connect to the PipBuck attached to this… ‘pegasus’ at my hooves.”

“Affirmative Head of Maintenance, Handy Hooves. One moment please...”

Handy looks down at Gearing and is about to say something when he’s cut off by some screeching and squawking from the surrounding speakers, then the Stable-Tec’s voice returns. “I apologize, Head of Maintenance Handy Hooves. I am unable to establish a connection with the PipBuck in question.”

Handy’s eyes narrow at Gearing as he asks, “Explain, Stable-Tec?”

“The PipBuck in question uses a security protocol I am unable to employ. It will not grant me access.”

Handy takes a step back and looks at one of the speakers nearby. “How is that even possible?! You are Stable-Tec, how can you not communicate with yourself?!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and says, “Because I’m a head technician with Stable-Tec. Having the device open for just any stable to poke their head into it would be a bad idea. It’s called compartmentalization…” He looks up at Handy and raises an eyebrow. “How are you the ‘Head of Maintenance’, and don’t even know that!?”

Handy grumbles and his eyes jump around as he tries to think of what to do.

Gearing waves his left foreleg as he says, “I told you I can prove it, just let me use my forehooves!”

Handy sighs and says softly, “I’ll untie you… and you can show us… But don’t try to attack us or Sarge here will blast you.”

Sarge rapidly taps his hooves. “Oh I heard that clear as day!”

Gearing tries to make himself as meek as possible as he says softly, “I’m not the one kidnapping people and tying them up for whatever kinky reason.”

Handy flinches and grumbles as he starts unbinding Gearing. “I didn’t kidnap you!”

“But you tied me up! Can’t deny that.”

“Had to make sure you weren’t a risk…”

“By knocking people unconscious and tying them up first instead of talking to them? Not even the Ministry of Morale’s that bad.” Gearing taps on his PipBuck a few times then presents the screen to Handy as he starts casually trying to slip off the rest of the bindings.

Handy looks the screen over, from a distance, with his eyes constantly darting back towards Gearing to see what he’s doing, if anything.

Gearing’s standing unnaturally still.

Handy asks, “Well anyone can just write a document that says that… How can I be sure?”

Gearing taps a few commands into the PipBuck then sits there and stares at Handy a few moments. “Well, Stable-Tec?” Gearing asks.

The voice comes across the speakers over head. “Credentials received. Verified. Individual identified as Stable-Tec and Ministry of Wartime Technology Liaison…. Special Technician Gearing.”

Handy’s eyes jump around as he’s trying to follow everything. “What the hell’s a ‘Special Technician’?”

Gearing continues to stare at Handy for a few moments before saying evenly, “Technician of the highest grade. They call me in when there’s a bug they can’t find or things get screwed up. I can work on any system in the stable, and get sent around wherever they need me.”

“What’s with the ‘Ministry of Wartime Technology’ bit?” Handy asks cautiously

Gearing tilts his head and says evenly, “Stable-Tec, and Ministry of Wartime Technology. High end technology. Goes hoof and hoof with each other.”

“Mmm hmm,” Handy mumbles without actually believing it. “And just what the hell are you doing down here in a crate if that’s the case? If you’re some kinda bigshot?”

Gearing shrugs, which is a really weird thing for Handy to see from something that even now strikes Handy as a protectapony. The fluid motion of it is decidedly bizarre by comparison. “I couldn’t tell you. Last thing I remember is I was having an argument with one of the higher ups in Stable-Tec. Next thing I know I was looking up at you two perverts and gift wrapped like some kind of bondage convention.”

He slowly turns around looking at the crate behind him where he’d come from, and tries to put everything together. He starts poking around inside the crate as Sarge rocks back and forth anxiously, hoping Gearing would make some kind of aggressive move.

Gearing flops back down on his rear looking at the crate. “That son of a bitch!” He turns back to look at Handy. “That bastard must have knocked me out with some kind of stasis weapon.” He looks at the crate and tries to find any sign of anything that could have been used to keep him in the field. He sifts around in the bottom of the crate, where his hooves had been, and kicks around a couple oddly shaped stones. They crumble to dust at his touch and he snarls, “I’d heard about this kind of technology, but he’d managed to weaponize it?!” He scoops up a bit of the dust and the largest pieces as he tries to turn and show Handy. “Stasis Talisman. It’s burnt out. I think… Looks like it just burnt out, I don’t know why though. These things weren’t meant to last very long, at most a few hours to get a soldier from the field to a clinic. Even that was only experimental.” He grabs the box lid and starts examining the insides. “I bet they voided the air in here, I’m not really seeing any corrosion, the sudden gush from you opening it must have screwed something up.”

Handy tilts side to side, trying to see into the box, and figure out what Gearing is doing. “Who are you talking about? What did they do? Why would they do that to their own employees? Weren’t you all on the same team?”

Gearing shakes his head softly. “No… I mean, we were supposed to be… but… not everyone apparently.” He turns and looks at Handy with a scowl. “You ever come across anything that you might not have been intended to see while doing your normal work? I’m sure you have, right?”

Handy bobs his head side to side a bit. “Sorta… Yeah… But not really. I get what you mean, why?”

Gearing points a hoof back at the container. “Because that’s what happened to me. I came across something that I apparently wasn’t supposed to see. I went to the person I thought would be the one to report it to, and… well. Turns out I was more expendable then I thought I was.” He looks over his shoulder at the box and says softly, “I knew too much, so they got rid of me…”

Handy looks at the box and at Gearing then raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t they kill you then? Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

Gearing bristles and shakes his head. “No idea. Gods know they had more than enough opportunity with me in stasis and completely helpless. Although it might have been harder to get away with it… might have something to do with my PipBuck alerting that I’d died… hard to cover up… or…” He looks back at the crate and says softly, “Maybe they thought they had killed me… and just crated me up and threw me in storage until the end of time when it wouldn’t matter anymore…”

Handy sits down and says with a sad sigh, “Well, then I’d say they succeeded at that then.”

Gearing turns around and his eyes practically glow. “Ooooh no they haven’t. I’m still alive, and I’m not going to stand for this! The experiments they had planned… uhg… sadistic doesn’t even begin to cover it!” He stands up and starts looking around. “Just wait until I get back to HQ, I know who to talk to now. Forget the mid or upper lackeys. All hell’s going to break loose once I report in!” His head tilts as he follows the beams over head. “What stable is this anyway?”

Handy tilts his head. “How could you possibly tell this is a stable just from the ceiling beams?”

Gearing looks at Handy and smirks. “I helped build them, of course.” He looks around at the storage room. “This one seems packed though. Lots of extra supplies. Probably preloading… so... which one is it?”

“68,” Handy says softly.

Gearing spins around on Handy so fast that Sarge hops over and points his laser at Gearing’s head. But, Gearing pays no attention as his eyes are open to their widest in surprise and fright. “68?! Th- that’s impossible! 68 hasn’t even been built yet!”

Handy regards Gearing for a few moments before he says softly, “It’s 68, alright. That’s what all the records say and the markings on the outer door.”

Gearing flops down on his rear, causing a loud clang to echo out as his eyes jump around. “N-no. That can’t be. No way. The records I’d found, it’d only been in the design stages. They hadn’t even decided entirely on the location yet!” He looks at Handy and asks in a choked voice, “Tell me you’re kidding…”

Handy slowly shakes his head in response.

Gearing slowly looks around. Then at the robot menacing him nearby and asks while staring at the robot, “Were- were the stables activated?”

Handy sighs. “Yeah… a long… long time ago.”

Gearing looks back and forth between Handy and Sarge. “So, the stable’s still functioning? The place managed to work, despite the sadistic research project that was planned for it?”

Handy stares at Gearing for a few moments. After remaining in silence trying to figure out what all is going on, and what to do next, he says flatly, “No. Everypony died.” He rolls his head and bobs it a round a bit. “Sort of. It’s complicated. The one mare that was here, she’s uploaded her mind to the computer and her foal was in stasis.”

Gearing perks up and looks at Handy for a few moments. Then his shoulders sag. “The one mare… right? The only one?”

Handy nods slowly. “Yeaaaaah.” From the tone in his voice, Gearing can tell that they’ve both communicated the fact that they both know exactly the same information that is on Gearing’s mind.

Gearing stands up and looks at Handy with a stoic determination that Handy was not prepared to see. Sarge regards Gearing and his laser weapon wavers. There’s still no sign of hostilities from him, despite this quick change in behavior, and he can’t bring himself to pull the trigger. Despite how much he might want to.

“I need to see her,” Gearing says flatly.

Handy waves his forehooves in front of himself as he shakes his head. “You have to what now?”

Gearing points towards the opposite side of the room. “I need to see her. I have to apologize to her.”

Handy tilts his head and leans towards Gearing. “For what?”

Gearing waves a hoof around. “For… all of this… I failed to prevent it. I at least need to apologize to her.”

Handy waves a hoof and sighs. “That, doesn’t really make any sense, but, sure.” He looks around the room a bit before asking dead panned, “You’re not going to just shoot us in the back, are you?”

Gearing tilts his head as he regards Handy. Then he stands up straight and slaps a hoof across his chest in a salute. “I’ve sworn to protect Equestria and its citizens. I would never betray the faith entrusted in me nor dishonor those who gave me it.” He stomps his hoof down and says flatly, “I helped build these to protect lives… not take them.” He turns his head and snorts in disgust. “That’s why I was so appalled by what I found out about some of them.”

Handy nods and starts leading the way out of the storage room. “Uh huh… well, we’re going to be keeping an eye on you anyway… I don’t know you, and I don’t trust you… betray us and you’ll have the whole stable coming down on you.” He looks over his shoulder at the protectapony bringing up the rear. “And Sarge will simply have too much fun if that ever happens.”

Gearing tilts his head as he follows, and refuses to even look at Sarge. “Gee, real great at making friends, aren’t ya?”

Handy spins around and sticks a hoof in Gearing’s face. “Let me tell you something. Most ponies would have let Sarge just slag you back there. You have no idea what we’ve been through. Trust is earned, not just given… So consider yourself lucky we’ve let you get this far!”

Gearing leans in towards Handy, causing him to withdraw his hoof. “And let me tell you something. My loyalty to Equestria is unshakeable. Loyalty means everything to me. If you treat me right, and stop acting like a jackass, you’ll find out I’m one of the most useful assets you’ve ever even dreamed of… however.” He scowls at Handy. “I don’t respond well to unnecessary threats either…”

Handy takes a step back and his eyes keep darting towards Sarge who just keeps staring at Gearing. “So?”

Gearing continues on down the hall as he looks at Handy. “So… stop treating me like I’ve done something… when I was the victim of betrayal… Trust me, I’m not someone you want to make an enemy from either.”

Handy quickly takes a few steps back. The statement wasn’t exactly that powerful. Nor really threatening. However, there was something in Gearing’s eyes. Something dark. A promise of some sort. A promise he very likely didn’t want to collect on.

He was already regretting letting this thing out of the box.

Handy leads the way down the maze of halls to the central mainframe. He and Sarge keep pace with Gearing in the center, but Gearing neither seems to mind nor care. Gearing spends the entire trip checking out the corridor and the various doors that they pass along the way. Handy gets worried that Gearing is plotting something, that he’s mapping out the area for some future evil. But, the thought passes as he realizes that any idiot with a PipBuck would have the entire place mapped for him just by walking through it, whether they wanted to or not. While paying more attention to what Gearing is doing than his own walking down the hall, he notices that Gearing’s attention seems to be focused on whichever systems they pass. Specifically his attention lingers on ones that are in obvious need of repair.

“Don’t worry,” Handy comments, “the stable’s in rough shape, I know, but she’s not going to collapse any time soon. She’s still safe enough for now.”

Gearing mutters, “This place needs some serious maintenance.” He looks at Handy. “Isn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Handy groans, “Yeah…” He shakes his head and starts looking forward. “I’ve been doing what I can, but it’s hard to keep up with it when there’s so many dangerous problems to deal with… especially the lower levels.”

Gearing tilts his head as he asks, “What’s wrong? Radiation leak or something?”

Handy shakes his head. “No, all sorts of critters down there. We’ve only been here a short time, and have only managed to clear out the upper levels.”

Gearing pauses then asks as he goes back to looking at the bulkheads, “How’s that possible? The stable’s supposed to be closed.”

Handy shrugs. “Stable failed. Place was a tomb when we found it.”

Gearing hangs his head and begins grumbling to himself, but doesn’t say anything more until they come to a thick door. He looks at the door carefully, and the old fading paint labeling this ‘Restricted Access: Authorized Ponies Only’ as Handy starts walking over to a terminal at the door. Gearing’s attention jerks to the corner above the door where a security camera turns to face Handy.

“What the hell do you want now, Handy?” an annoyed mare’s voice asks from the speaker box near the terminal.

Handy stops midstride, and looks around quickly, then directs his attention to the camera staring at him. “This thing- It-… he wants to meet you, Nettlekiss.” Handy stumbles over his words before pointing a hoof at Gearing.

The camera spins towards Gearing, zooms in and clicks repeatedly, and a groan comes over the speaker before the camera turns back towards Handy. “Another stallion? Who gave you permission to bring another stallion into my stable?!” The camera whips over towards Gearing and the voice asks, “How did you even get in here? Nothing gets in without my permission, least of all you rapist bastards. Speak stallion!”

Gearing tilts his head a few moments as he regards the camera.

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

“It’s likely I’ve been here longer than you have. That’s most likely why you didn’t know about my arrival.”

“Horseapples,” the voice responds. “I’ve been here since the bombs fell.”

“According to the information I could find, he was locked away the day before that...” Handy looks over at Gearing and says softly, “Apparently.”

The camera looks back and forth, zooming in to both of their faces, getting a read on their mannerisms before asking, “Locked away?”

Gearing nods then looks right at the camera. “I was kidnapped. I came across something that I wasn’t supposed to see. And they locked me into a stasis field to keep me from blowing the whistle on it.”

The camera zooms in to Gearing. It unnecessarily moves around as it looks him over. It’s obvious that the person controlling the camera is doing it for their benefit, as the camera can easily take in the full view at once without the need to move. “And just what was so secret?”

Gearing sits down and looks straight into the camera. “The truth about this stable. What they were really planning. About…” He looks over at Handy and says unsteadily, “The experiments… I found out.”

“You knew?! Since when?!” The voice screeched with obviously uncontrolled emotions boiling to the surface.

Gearing looks up at the camera. “While this stable was still on the drawing board.” He shakes his head as he continues, “They hadn’t even selected a location yet.”

“And you let them!? How could you let those bastards do that?! Do you have any idea what I’d been through? What I barely survived?!”

Gearing jumps to his feet in a wide stance. “I didn’t! As soon as I found out about it, I was livid! I took it straight to my highest contact!” His posture slowly deflates as he says, “But, apparently they were on the take… They made sure neither me nor the truth would see the light of day.” He closes his eyes and seems to become really small as he draws himself in. “Until it was far… far too late.”

There’s a long moment of silence as no one speaks. Even the speaker box remains completely silent, without even a hum of the microphone being disengaged.

Gearing walks up to the corner, puts his hoofs on the adjacent walls and gets as close to the camera as he can. “I’m so. So sorry. I tried to do the right thing. I really did… But... I failed… I failed you. I’ve failed so many… I’m so sorry.” His forehooves slide down the walls as he sinks down to a near seated position on the metal floor. Handy regards him from his position near the far wall, away from Gearing. From the hitch in Gearing’s voice, it seemed almost that this construct before him was on the verge of tears. An act that would be hard-pressed for the best among theater folk.

“You-“ The mare’s voice finally breaks her silence, “Weren’t here… there was nothing you could have done. It’s…” Over the speaker the hesitation comes across strongly. As something that she herself is having a hard time putting into words. Her hatred of stallions being so pure from her treatment at their hooves. But, still. As much as she’d like to. She can’t lay fault on his shoulders. He did all he could. Even she can see that. And he paid dearly for his attempt. “It’s not your fault.”

Gearing bobs his head around slowly, while looking at the floor plating. “I should have known better. My fault or not, I still failed. And I have to live with that.” He hops up and looks at the camera with renewed vigor. “But, I’m extremely useful! The stable here, needs a lot of work. I can get it back up to snuff for you. That’s no problem!” He gets close to the camera again by pressing his forehooves into the adjacent walls again. “But, is there anything else you need? Anything else I can help you with? Anything I can do to…” He hangs his head a moment, but tilts it so he can look at the camera with one eye as he finishes, “try and make up for my failure?”

“My foal… Guard my foal. My foal is all I care about now. Do that and… blech… you can stay.”

Gearing’s ears perk up then he grimaces as several thoughts jump through his mind. He shakes his head, throwing the thoughts away before he asks, “Foal? You have a foal?” He shakes his head a bit more then asks, “Sure, What does it need? Do you need any food? Is the water system working?”

“We’re taking care of the foal. It’s in the medical bay,” Handy offers from his seat by the wall. “That was the deal for us being brought in. We’re only here because she needs someone to look after the foal. Robots can only do so much.”

Gearing nods then looks back at the camera. “Then, what about you… Nettlekiss was it?”

The camera zooms in a few times, Gearing can see the aperture changing sizes rapidly. “I don’t have a body anymore, stallion.”

Gearing tilts his head as he tries to figure out what she’s saying, and it doesn’t seem to be clicking for him.

“She uploaded her mind to the central computer years ago… It was a way for her to escape, and try to save her foal. There was no other way.”

Gearing stares at him a few moments then his eyes open to their fullest in a moment of clarity. “The stable wouldn’t have made it…” He looks at the camera and continues on, “You are the original mare… personality uploaded before the stable collapsed… And the foal… put into stasis?”

“As soon as I gave birth,” The voice confirms softly.

Gearing nods and hangs his head as he says, “And the stable collapsed, with everyone else dying.” He looks back at the camera. “At least those not being suspended through arcano-technology.”

“You’ve found a real smart cookie here, Handy.”

Handy shrugs. “I was just looking for some supplies to try and get this place going. Didn’t even know something like this existed.”

Gearing snorts and looks at Handy. “For the last time. I’m not an it.” He shoots a hoof at the camera. “At least she has the decency of calling me a ‘Stallion’, even if she means it as a slur.”

Handy looks him over, his eyes going over to Sarge who’s been rocking back and forth with his targeting system aimed at Gearing, and shakes his head a moment before he throws both forehooves at Gearing. “Just what are you?”

Gearing closes his eyes and grumbles as he slaps a metallic hoof across his metallic face in the loudest facehoof Handy’s ever seen. He drags the hoof down his muzzle until it falls off the end then directs his attention to Handy again and asks, “From what you’d said, there’s more here than just you. You’ve said ‘us’ and I really doubt she’d have a problem with a machine she can control being inside…” He points a hoof over at Sarge. “So there’s others, right?”

Handy looks him over for a few moments and asks, “What do you think, Nettlekiss?”

The camera turns its attention towards Handy. “Put him to work. The stable’s informed me he’s a certified technician. As long as he pulls his weight, and doesn’t pull any shit, he can stay.”

Gearing raises a hoof. “If you’re concerned about resources. The only one I need is the space I take up.” He curls a wing around and starts counting off with crystal feathers, “I don’t need food, nor water, and I can even work in more dangerous areas with relative safety. And I’m probably the fastest technician you’ll ever meet.”

Handy snorts as he feels a personal attack on his pride. “Oh yeah? Well I’m a pretty good repairpony myself. What makes you so special?” He shoves a hoof at Gearing.

Gearing tilts his head, and looks up and to the side as he puts on the biggest smile Handy’s seen on him yet. “Easy, I don’t sleep. And I don’t fatigue. So I don’t slow down over time.”

Handy’s hoof droops to the floor. How is that even possible? That’s not even fair. “H-how?”

Gearing stands up and starts walking back the direction they came from. “How about you introduce me to everyone else. I’ll explain it to everyone.” He looks back at the camera. “Nettlekiss, I know you said you’re fine… but… if you need anything… you have my transponder signal. Just give me a ping and I’ll be there.”

“Alright, stallion… Now just get out of my sight… all of you!”

Handy, taking the not-a-hint hops up and hurries down the hallway away from the access door. He looks at Gearing as he passes and a scowl crosses his face that Gearing can’t help but catch in his peripheral vision.

Gearing follows behind, keeping his eyes on his surroundings as they continue down the path. “Handy… if you’re not comfortable with taking me to everyone else. I can just start working down here. You can talk with everyone else and decide on how you want to introduce me.” Handy’s head turns to look back at Gearing suspiciously, so Gearing replies, “Trust is earned, not given, right?”

Handy shakes his head. “No. It’d be best to go ahead and meet everyone else now…”

Gearing follows, his eyes skimming over the surface as they continue down the hallways. His eyes settle on the PipBuck on Handy’s foreleg as Handy sends out some message to somepony. Gearing’s eyes trail elsewhere as he keeps an eye out on his surroundings. A few moments later, after Handy’s casual message had already been sent off, Gearing finally comments, “You know. If you all decide you don’t want me here…”

Handy’s head turns sideways as he glares at Gearing as he wonders if the protectapony has managed to intercept signals or has some kind of devious plan up his sleeve.

After getting eye contact with Handy, Gearing continues, “I’d really prefer it if you just say so… and just send me on my way.”

Handy stops and stares at him a moment, his eyes getting wider by the moment. “What?”

Gearing pauses and waves a hoof in the general direction where he believes the front door of the stable is. “You know. Leave… The front door works, right?”

Handy turns around completely and stares at Gearing. “You’d just... leave? Why? You have no idea what the world is like out there.”

Gearing continues walking, and passes him, as he comments, “Oh I’m sure I have a pretty clear idea. The literature on the subject was mandatory reading.” He pauses long enough, while they are side by side, to shoot a sidelong glance at Handy. “It’s what we were fighting to prevent in the first place… and they wanted us to be fully mindful of the consequences of…” He continues walking, but doesn’t complete his sentence until well after breaking eye contact, “our failure…”

Handy regards him for a few moments, not moving, as he tries to figure out the newest inhabitant’s mindset. He exchanges glances with Sarge before turning to trot next to Gearing. “There’s a lot of bad ponies out there… We have a good group here… I’m going to do what I can to keep them safe.”

Gearing nods. “I understand that. And I’ll help where I can. So, let’s get to it.”

They walk for a while, and Handy can’t help but pay attention to Gearing as they walk. There’s something off about him. He can’t quite place it.

Besides this being some kind of stained-glass winged golden piece of arcano-technology that doesn’t realize it’s a piece of technology, that is.

“Hurry it up slag heap, I’m getting bored with these escort missions…” Sarge grumbles from the back.

That’s it. He’s slow. Gearing is not moving as fast as Handy. In fact, Sarge even seems to be moving slightly faster than Gearing. Both Handy and Sarge are having to check their speed to stay in formation with Gearing.

Handy asks, “So… You okay? You need any repairs or anything?”

Gearing snorts and shoots Handy a daggering stare. “I keep telling you I’m not a protectapony!” He continues on, picking up the pace, but seems to be in some sort of slow motioned canter. “I can’t be repaired. If I get hurt, I need some form of medical attention… worst of all, it has to be at least partially magically infused or it will be a complete waste of time.”

Handy shakes his head. “Wait. I see your gears, and plates. You telling me they can’t even be swapped out or welded if they get damaged?”

Gearing grumbles some more then shoots a look at him as he snips, “Just where is this meeting supposed to take place so I can get these bullshit questions out of the way…”

Handy scowls at Gearing. “Hey, no reason to get snotty with me! Most would be grateful for the concern!”

Gearing spins on him, and points a hoof at him as he growls, “Grateful!? Why should I be grateful? You’ve been questioning my very right to exist this entire time!” He waves a hoof around. “My whole life I’ve been having to justify my own existence.” He turns and starts stomping, heavily, down the hall. “And I’m really sick of it. Not even the world ending could end bigotry it seems…”

Handy turns to look at Sarge. They exchange glances and Handy’s head continually turns to the side. Finally Sarge answers the question that Handy’s apparently wondering, “Didn’t go red… The smart bastard.”

Footnote: PipBuck connection timed out. Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Author's Note

And here we go! The kick off of the biggest story I've ever written. [Which is really saying something]

Please bare with me as I get used to this posting system. Made the account here as an explicit request to post this story on the site, so I'm really new to it.

This is a work in progress and, while I don't foresee any MAJOR changes to the parts I publish, it's still possible until I'm done done and at that point I'll mark it as 'complete'

Please enjoy!

Critiques, comments, and suggestions all welcome!

-Quillsy

2 Reluctant Allies

Handy turns and trots after Gearing, then leads the way to the medical bay. They step in through the first set of doors, and it seals behind them. Gearing looks around as the decontamination chamber’s sequence runs. This was a new addition that he hadn’t anticipated. This level of precaution is normally set aside for labs dealing with some biological or chemical hazard. It would be great for preventing pandemics, but for the entrance for a normal medical bay? That seems overkill. The scanning sequence ends, and kicks on a cyclone of air that cycles all of the air in the enclosed room up into the ceiling. Gearing stares up into the grates above and notices the glow of lights that gives him the distinct impression of light based sterilization.

The entire sequence finishes, and a moment later the inner door opens, revealing the medical bay interior. Handy walks in first, scanning the room with his eyes before going to stand near a sky blue pegasus mare with a blue-streaked red mane cascading around her shoulders. They exchange whispers as Gearing steps into the medical bay, just inside the door, far enough not to get smashed when the doors seal themselves again, and begins looking around. Gearing only trails his gaze around in a casual pace of taking the room in, and not gawking at the unreasonably attractive mare with the tornado cutie mark Handy’s conversing with.

On one of the medical beds to the right nearest the back right corner, a suncat lays on her back, with a bundle clutched to her cream colored underbelly. The feline glances around and says nothing, but regularly directs her attentions from the bundle in her paws, to the group around her. A white multi-armed nurse bot with pink and yellow trim floats near her, looking like a floating metallic jellyfish, taking in a variety of data and, after determining that the new arrivals have no impact on the task at hoof, continues its vigil over the suncat and the bundle being held so tenderly to her.

Gearing’s seen suncats before, in his out of country travels, but he can’t recall personally seeing them actually in Equestria before. So one being in a stable is an extreme oddity. The slight movement of the cloth draws all of Gearing’s attention for a few moments. The very foalish micro movements give him a pretty clear picture of the precious cargo being cradled in the fabric before he draws his attention across the rest of the medical ward.

The room, as a whole, is much larger than he’d expected for a simple stable. A lot of space and more than enough beds for typical usage. His eyes settle in the far back right corner, where a large egg like pod rests. He’s seen these before, and sincerely hopes he doesn’t have to use one. Medical procedures are bad enough when being administered by talented unicorns. But, the medical pods are another monster entirely. Cramped, enclosed, and all kinds of things going on to you while you can’t move. He shivers at the thought and shakes it off with his full body.

The other occupant of the room is a grey stallion that seems present, in the sense of being here, but has apparently entirely passed out over the bed he’s crawled over in a very rude manner. It’s a strange sensation, looking at someone who’s asleep, and the first thing that pops into one’s head is ‘Ruuuuude’. Just by the way he’s laying, fuck all cares style, gives Gearing a negative impression of him as someone that’s probably extremely annoying and, given how no one else is reacting to this sight, this must be the most pleasant he ever is: unconscious.

Gearing stretches, letting his wings expand out to their absolute fullest. “It’s nice to have a bit of room for a change,” he partially groans with the pleasurable effort.

Except for the slightly subdued lighting directly above the suncat, the rest of the room is brightly lit, showing off every shiny detail of Gearing’s polished brass form with its silver and golden aspects. Which only gets magnified as Gearing stretches.

The light reflects and refracts off of Gearing’s wings, sending a cascade of sparkling color in a variety of directions, like some living disco ball. The light filtered through his wings hits the ground and wall in a tinted hue of greens and blues that are a stark contrast to the sterile grays and whites of the stable’s interior.

Handy tilts his head at the spectacle, then covers his face with his hoof as Gearing gives a few heavy flaps, sending wind out in gusts in front of himself before folding them back and settling down. Again, the thought of those wings being able to lift that much mass crosses his mind, but that wind was something else. Nah. No way. Handy decides.

Gearing looks at Handy then looks around at the others, including Sarge. “So, Handy, is this everyone… or?”

Handy narrows his eyes and says flatly, “Enough of us… yes.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Fine. You can explain the rest to anyone else. You’re the leader after all.”

At this statement the pegasus mare gives a disapproving look at Handy, who only shrugs. There’s a long silence as no one seems to know what to say first. After a bit Handy finally asks, “Well?”

Gearing looks at him. “Well, what? You brought me- Oh, yeah, I suppose I should introduce myself.” He flops down on his rear heavily and waves his right forehoof. “Hi. My name’s Gearing. I’m a Technician for Stable-Tec.”

“I’m Nahlah! Hi!” The suncat in the bed excitedly waves a paw from her bed.

Gearing nods his head towards her, and brings his attention back towards the pegasus mare. She stares at him with a level of suspicion in her dark green eyes that even exceeds Handy’s. “I’m Swift. And if you harm my children, I’ll destroy you.”

Gearing’s ears pop up. “Children? Is that one of your little ones over there?” He points a hoof at the suncat’s bundle.

Swift shakes her head. “That’s Nettlekiss’s foal.”

Gearing turns back to her. “Oh, okay, where’s-“

“Don’t worry about where my children are,” Swift cuts him off.

Gearing waves both hooves in front of himself. “You’re protective, I get it. Your foals, your rules.” He puts his hooves back down and stares at her as he asks, “Can you at least assure me that they aren’t going to be getting into areas where they aren’t supposed to be? That I won’t have to keep a look out for them while working?”

She stamps a hoof towards him, pounding a power hoof into the floor plating, as she snarls, “This is our stable, not yours. They can go where they wish!”

He looks at her for a few moments, and asks evenly, with a slight hint of accusation, “Really? I was told that this stable’s barely holding together. That it’s falling apart. And what’s worse, the lower levels are particularly dangerous.” He tilts his head and asks as his one eye on her narrows, “You really let your children play in radiation contaminated nests of beasts?”

She pulls back slightly, not expecting that response and hating the thought of it. “Well. No. Of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

Gearing nods. “Well. As long as they are safe and not in any danger, they aren’t any concern of mine…” He turns to look at Handy as he expects some sort of hint on where he’d like the conversation to go from here.

Swift tilts her head, staring at Gearing. It doesn’t pass her by that his questions were, in their entirety, confirming her foals’ health and safety. This goes a long way to get on her good side, but still far from where he’d need to be. They’ve been through too much to put too much trust into anyone so quickly.

“Hey, Handy, where’d you get the new protectapony?” the grey stallion asks from the bed as he’s flopped over in a near spread eagle style position. He scratches his underbelly with a forehoof a bit as he asks sleepily, “Damn thing’s bright as hell, mmkay? Could you turn it down a bit?” He yawns and flops over again, partially hanging off the medibed.

Oh yeah. Gearing’s not going to like him at all.

Gearing grumbles as he stares at the stallion that’s lost the war with unconsciousness again. “I’m not a protectapony!”

Swift and Nahlah both perk up and start looking around. Handy raises a hoof high in the air, getting everyone’s attention before anyone else says anything. “Okay. What are you then? You said you’d explain once everyone was gathered… so… here we are.”

Swift takes a step forward and gives Gearing a hard eye as she snarls, “You’re not with the Institute, are you?”

Gearing was about to say something, with his mouth wide open, then closes it and looks at her as he tilts his head. “Wait- what? What institute?”

Swift's eyes jump around his face for a few moments before backing up and focusing her attention elsewhere. “N- never mind. Forget it.”

Gearing’s tilted head leans and stretches towards her a bit as he tries to figure out her train of thought. He’s interrupted by a cough from Handy. He looks at Handy then nods. “Oh. Yeah. Well… Obviously…” He unfurls his wings out to their widest, causing a cascade of color behind himself as he strikes a pose with himself puffing up and his head slightly tilted, showing a profile of his face with his massive smile. “I’m a pegasus.” The light practically shines off his metallic teeth as he grins at them.

The spectacle is magnified by the fact that he seems to know just the right angles to turn his wings and crystalline shards that function as feathers to catch and reflect the most amount of light in the direction he wants.

Handy slaps a hoof over his face.

Swift looks at him only long enough to roll her eyes, with a motion that flowers through her whole body.

Nahlah’s eyes twinkle and she lightly claps as she grins.

The grey stallion farts in his unconscious state, drawing a distasteful look from both Swift and Gearing. Something for them to share.

Handy’s hoof slides down his face and after it falls off the front of his muzzle, he points his hoof at Gearing. “You know what I mean… You’re metal. Pegasi aren’t metal.” He points a hoof at Swift.

Gearing puts a hoof to his chest and slightly bows. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t help myself with the lighting in here. Anyway. I’m a clockwork.”

They all look at each other, and even Nahlah seems to lose some of her enthusiasm.

“A what?” Swift asks with a tilted head and a half closed eye.

Handy looks Gearing up and down as he asks, “That some kind of advanced model AI?”

Gearing sags his shoulders, and shakes his head hard a few times before stopping himself by putting both hooves to the sides of his head. He thrusts them both out towards Handy as he says. “I’m not artificial, there’s nothing artificial about-”

“Horseapples,” Handy and Swift say in unison.

Gearing grumbles and looks down at the floor plating as he tries to figure out how to explain it to this particular group.

Swift sits down and points at him as she looks at Handy. “What if he’s like Nettlekiss, his mind put in a machine?”

Handy looks over Gearing and bobs his head around. “It’s possible…”

Gearing grumbles as he interrupts any further comment, “No, it’s not.”

Swift directs her attention at Gearing. “Then how were you made?”

Gearing leans towards her and scowls. “How were you made?!”

Swift’s head pulls back at having the question thrown back into her face like that. She shakes her head then half closes an eye. “I wasn’t made! I was born.”

Gearing throws both hooves at her as he says, “So was I!”

Swift and Handy share sideways glances before Swift says, “I have a mother, who had me…”

Gearing points at himself with both forehooves “So did I! I was born just like all of you.” He points over at the bundle in Nahlah’s arms.

Swift’s head tilts the other way as she tries to make sense of this. “How- how does that even… You’re gears…”

“It’s a curse.” This draws blank stares from everyone in the room. Gearing sits down and puts his hooves over his eyes as he runs everything through his head. He practically lays down then uncovers one of his eyes and points that forehoof at Swift.

“What?” Swift asks.

“You- you know about magic and such, right?” Gearing asks as he tries to connect the dots in a way they will understand.

Swift's eyes partially close as she feels more than a little insulted. “Duh.” She shakes her head a moment and restates, “I mean as much as anypony does. I’m not a unicorn, but, I get it. Why?”

Gearing pulls himself up and points at himself. "This is massively oversimplifying… but… think of it as transmutation magic.”

Swift's ears perk up as her eyes widen. Gearing, seeing that there’s some piece of recognition here continues on as quickly as possible, “I’m under the effects of a transmutation curse. Without it I’d be a normal pegasus, like you.”

Swift and Handy exchange glances as they try to figure out what to do with this information.

“Who’d you piss off that did that to you?” Nahlah asks from the bed.

Swift and Handy turn to look at her, but then direct their attention back towards Gearing and Swift points back at Nahlah, trying to prod for an answer.

Gearing sits up straight, then says after a long sigh, “That’s the worst part of it… I wasn’t even the one that did it. It’s hereditary.” They look at him as if he has two heads so he adds, “It’s passed on by blood. Somewhere a long time ago, someone pissed off some deity or whatever. And were turned into … this.” He waves his front hooves at himself. He sighs and looks off to the side. “My mother had it… and I’ve had it since I was born. Any foals I’d father, would also carry the curse.” He looks at them and scowls. “Get it now?”

Handy and swift blink a few times, in unison.

Swift takes a step forward, looking him over, and asks, “By bloodline? How do you even-“

Handy leans over and mutters with his head turned back the other way, “He comes fully equipped.”

Swift turns her head to look at him with an eyebrow raised, “What are you-?” She turns to look back at Gearing, and notices the way he’s sitting, a moment later her head whips back to look at Handy aghast, “What the hell!? Just what were you doing with him to notice that?! I thought you were straight!”

Handy takes a step away from her and waves both hooves in front of himself. “I couldn’t help but noticing!”

Gearing, smirks a bit, then turns his head sideways and avoids eye contact, looking rather bashful, as he says, “He had me all tied up… I- I was getting concerned for my chastity.” He fidgets with his forehooves and rubs them together.

Swift’s head whips over to look at Gearing with her mouth wide open, as does Handy. Handy yells out, “I was just making sure he wasn’t doing anything!”

Gearing grinds a forehoof into the floor and looks at Swift with big soulful eyes. “I couldn’t move if I wanted tooo... I- I don’t know what he did to me while I was knocked out… I came to all tied up with him running his hooves all over my body and this one pointing a laser at my head...” He points a hoof at Sarge.

“Zebra loving coward just laid there, no matter how much I taunted him,” Sarge confirms grumpily.

Handy yelps out, “It wasn’t like that!”

Swift spins around and bonks Handy on the top of the head with her pipbuck laden right hoof. “Keep your hooves to yourself!”

Gearing can’t help but smirk at the developments. He folds his left wing around his front, hiding behind it lightly, and trying to hide and distort his smile. A well executed prank is its own reward.

Nahlah starts laughing as Handy stoops down and holds his head. “What was that for?!” He groans and rubs the sore spot on top of his head.

Swift’s response is cut off by alarms blaring over the entire intercom system, including the pipbucks that all of them are wearing. Handy looks at his pipbuck then starts charging the doors as he says, “If you’re serious about helping, now would be a great time to prove it!”

Gearing side steps as Handy passes him, both doors to the medical bay open, allowing Swift, Handy, Gearing and Sarge to run through it.

As they are running, Handy yells out, “Stable-Tec, send a message to Scarlet, tell her to get to the front door now!”

“Confirmed,” the robotic voice of the stable comes over Handy’s pipbuck.

Gearing continues as fast as he can, feeling massively sluggish and having trouble going through his full range of motions. “What’s going on?!”

Handy looks back at Gearing and yells as they keep pulling away from him, “Proximity detector, and someone’s opened the outer doors!”

Gearing continues trotting after them as fast as he can. He looks at his legs and back at his flanks as he gets an increasingly sour look on his face. Something is indeed wrong with him, and he can’t quite put his hoof on what it could be. As he’s reaching the front door, a bolt of fire goes flying by him, quite literally, as a red pelted mare pegasus zips past him to stand by Swift’s side. By the time he gets to the large door that makes up the only way in or out of the stable, Handy has already pulled up the security footage of the area outside the door on a terminal.

Gearing peeks over Handy’s shoulder and sees a set of stairs descending from above. Given the design, and the controls he sees in the far end of the footage, he suspects there is an automated door that lays flat over them, hiding this area from the surface. There, in the center of the camera is a pair of ponies looking at the stable entrance. Gearing looks around at the others taking up the room he’s in, and can feel the tension rising. He’s seen this kind of thing before, and knows there’s about to be a fight. He looks back and forth from the group he is with, to the ones on the monitor.

How is he supposed to know which side is right? If it does come to blows, how can he really be sure he’s not helping a bunch of horrible ponies? He’s been threatened from the very onset. Repeatedly. Needlessly. Normal ponies wouldn’t do that. If nothing else, the ones outside the door haven’t done that, so they have that going for them.

Handy clicks a few controls and the sound begins coming in from the security footage and they can finally hear what the earth stallion and the unicorn mare are talking about.

“Fuck me running, there’s a sealed up stable down here!” the mare says as she walks up to him with wide eyes and her mouth barely off the floor.

The stallion nods. “This isn’t on any map I know of.”

The mare trots in place. “Oh man! Just think of all the goodies in there! Just waiting to get picked up!”

The stallion nods and smiles. “Yeeaaahh. This isn’t on contract, but we can’t pass this up.” He turns to look at her. “Go get the thermal explosives, we’re going to crack this sucker.”

She springs up in the air and hoof pumps with her right forehoof. “Oh hells yeah!” She turns around and starts towards the stairs, but stops just long enough to ask, “Think anyone’s still alive in there, Commander Bradoak?”

The stallion doesn’t even give it a second before he purses his lips to the side and responds, “Doesn’t matter. Probably not, but even if there is, there won’t be once we’re done.”

The mare giggles and trots up the stairs. “We’re going to be rich!”

Tick.

Tick.

CLICK.

Gearing’s mind becomes clear and all previous questions are put on hold. Foal murdering for the purpose of profit? Not on his watch.

Handy holds onto the screen as he looks nervously at Swift. Swift steps away from the red mare long enough for Handy to tilt his head back slightly and say softly, with a hitch in his voice, and seemingly trying to keep the world from hearing the cursed words, “Gunners.”

Swift trots over and looks at the security footage. “What?!”

Handy nods and points a hoof at the screen. “His left shoulder. There’s no doubt. They’re Gunners…”

Gearing looks between the two, and can see this is having an effect on the others. He raises his hoof as he sits down. “Could someone fill in the clockwork, please? What’s a Gunner?”

Swift and Handy look at each other and Swift turns towards Gearing and frowns. “Gunners are high paid mercenaries. While in practice they’re not much better than raiders in how quickly they’ll kill you, they do have a code.”

Handy nods and adds, “Their loyalty is to the contract. That’s their number one. But, beyond that, they have no problem with killing anypony that gets in their way.” He looks over at Gearing and adds, “And they’re ruthless, well trained and, usually, very well armed.” He looks at the security camera and adds, “And they never send just a couple, so this is going to be a big fight at the least.”

Gearing steps over and starts going over the security footage of the hallway.

Handy looks at the others and says sadly, “I don’t know if we can win this.”

Swift pounds her power hoof into the ground. “Well we’re damn sure not going to just give up! Handy, we can’t go back outside. We barely made it here. Our foals…” She shakes her head. “We need a home for our foals, and I don’t want to just hand it over to a bunch of mercenaries because they want it too!”

Handy nods and looks around at everyone. “Well, Scarlet?”

The red pelted mare rubs her forehooves together greedily. “Oh hell yes I’m going to burn some sumbitches!”

Handy nods, then slowly, he regards Gearing. But says nothing.

Gearing shrugs. “What are you looking at me for? He just said he was going to kill everypony in the stable. If you think I’m just going to sit here and wait to be murdered, you’re dumber than you look.”

Handy smirks and Scarlet snorts out a loud laugh.

Handy nods quickly and looks at the screen. “Well… if it comes to that, we’ll fight. I’m going to try diplomacy first.”

Gearing shakes his head and looks at Handy with a sense of utter disbelief. He’d been threatening him all day, and all he did was wake up from stasis. These guys say they’re going to kill everyone in the stable, and take everything of value, and he wants to politely ask them not to? This makes no sense.

And Swift basically says the same thing Gearing is thinking.

Handy points at the screen as a pair of Gunners come down with crates. “I don’t want to kill anypony if I don’t have to.”

Swift stomps towards him and points back towards where they’d come from. “What about our foals!?”

Handy points at the screen. “What about their foals? They might have kids waiting on them. They might not be bad ponies! If we kill them, what happens to their children? Killing them would be a death sentence to their foals and I don’t want anymore blood on my hooves!”

Swift growls in his face, “Our foals come first. If they try it… Fuck them and whatever imaginary foals they may have!”

Handy looks at her absolutely appalled.

“Typically,” Gearing chimes in, “standard Rules of Engagement are clear… If they shoot or attack first, then it’s self defense… and their own fault. No reason to feel guilty over protecting your own.”

Swift turns her head and looks at Gearing quizzically. The word choice strikes a cord with her that she can’t quite place. However, she approves of the overall message, especially since it seems to have an effect on Handy.

Handy sighs. “Well. Let’s just see how this goes first.” He clicks on the microphone to the speaker box outside of the stable door. “Hey there. Would you mind terribly not trying to blow open our door?”

The ponies outside jump and look around wide eyed. The unicorn mare trots up next to the apparent leader and comments, “Well fuck me! There’s ponies in this stable! Cha-ching!” She pumps her right hoof in the air. “Stable dwellers fetch an amazing price on the market!”

This comment causes Gearing’s eyebrow to rise, and Swift to actually shiver. Not a good sign.

The earth pony in the lead walks over to the camera he spots and asks, “Well, we’d be happy to oblige. If you just open up the door and surrender.”

Handy sighs as he asks, “Anyway I can talk you out of this?”

One of the other members of the Gunner group walks over and grins. “Oh, sure. We don’t mind. Come on out and we can talk!”

The earth pony rolls his eyes and looks over at the other one. “They’ve been watching and listening the entire time, moron. Don’t insult his intelligence.”

Handy chuckles. “Yeaaaah… sorry about that. Heard everything.”

The earth pony waves a hoof at the speaker box and half closes an eye at the other Gunner, who puts up both front hooves in surrender, before falling back to sit on the crate that he helped bring down.

Handy stares at the screen a bit longer before he asks, “You all are Gunners, aren’t you?”

The unicorn mare shouts back, “Hell yeah we are!”

The leader shoots her a glare, and she instantly shuts her mouth, dips her head, then turns around and goes to sit near the box. The leader turns his head back towards the camera. “So, you’ve heard of us?”

Handy nods, then, realizing the Gunner can’t actually see him adds, “I know of you, yes. I’ve heard you’re an honorable mercenary group. One with a code to follow your contract till the end.”

The stallion sits and folds his forehoves in front of himself as he stares at the camera. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”

Handy nods and asks, “Then, would you tell me what contract you’re on currently? You didn’t know the stable was here before you got here, so this can’t be your contract…Commander Bradoak”

The leader smirks. “You were listening for a while… You’re right. The contract isn’t for the stable… A large group of raiders around here went missing, and we were sent to find out what happened to them. And, if they were still around here, to take them out. Mind if I ask who I’m talking to?”

“Handy, I’m in charge of keeping this stable safe.”

“I can respect that,” Bradoak says flatly.

“Thank you… Is there any way I can ask you to… forget about this stable? We’d be willing to pay a bit. We don’t have a lot, and that’s the truth, this place is falling apart. But I have some spare medical supplies, and several bottles of Wild Pegasus I’d be willing to give you for the trouble.”

Bradoak looks around and smirks, then back at the camera as he shakes his head. “We were told explicitly to report anything out of the ordinary and… well.” He waves a hoof around towards the stable door. “An uncracked stable definitely fits. Sorry. Contract’s clear, I can’t just… not report this.”

Handy turns off the mic and looks at Swift who just mouths at him, “Told ya so.”

Gearing sits there, hearing the entire conversation, though his head is no longer looking at the screen. He runs through a variety of scenarios as he slowly checks and massages his body. Of all the times he’s cursed and hated his body and not felt like he actually belonged in his own skin, the feeling is massively magnified. It’s gotten far worse since he was brought out of stasis. He’s realizing, it’s not that it’s getting worse, it’s that he’s becoming more clear headed and the fog is lifting. He’s just becoming more aware of the problems he’s having.

“Handy,” the voice of Bradoak calls out after a long silence. “I’ll tell you what. I know what you’ve heard. But. I think a full intact stable would fetch a far better price. So… you go ahead, open the door, and come on out. I’ll let you and your people go… no one has to get hurt today… but if you make us come in there, and destroy the door in the process… well, it’s going to be nasty.”

Handy looks at the screen and his eyes dart around. “I need a moment to think.”

Bradoak waves a hoof. “Fine, but stalling won’t do any good. We’re not going anywhere, and you have until we get the charges placed to make up your mind.” He stands up and points at the other two and motions toward the door.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!” Handy calls out.

Bradoak turns to look at the camera sideways. “Time is money, Handy.”

“Wait,” Handy says softly, in resignation. “I need some reassurances. That my people, all of my people, will be free to go. I’ll bring out the Wild Pegasus, and we can sit down, me, you, and your men, and talk it over a drink. And you can even have the rest of it after we’ve negotiated handing over the stable.”

Bradoak turns around completely and grins. “Well now, aren’t you being the reasonable one! Hot damn. Save us money on the explosives!”

Swift leans towards him and hisses, “You can’t be serious about handing over the stable! Handy, where will we go!?”

Handy raises a hoof towards her and says loudly into the intercom, “I’ll be out in a moment.” Then turns off the microphone. He turns to Swift and his eyes jump back and forth as he starts pointing at the ground. “Okay, there’s three down here. I don’t’ know how many are on the surface, the cameras and other sensors are down. But, we go out there, and take them out, then take out the others as they come down. Swift, you and I will lead the charge. Scarlet, you fly around and hit who you can, Sarge, you stay near the door and take out anyone that tries to get past us. If we’re lucky, and do this right, we can go up top afterwards and get the rest of his crew…” He says softly, “Assuming the noise of the fighting doesn’t bring them down that is…”

The others start looking glum, except for Sarge, who seems to be literally vibrating with excitement.

Gearing sits down and waves a hoof. “Uhm… excuse me… You’re forgetting something.”

Handy rolls his eyes, with his whole head, and asks, “What now?!”

Gearing thumps his chest. “Me!”

Handy looks at him a moment, then can’t help but let a faint smile appear across his face as he asks, “Yeah. I guess I did… What can you fight with?”

Gearing pulls out a rod that had been attached to his side and flicks it out. “Well, I only have this now.”

Handy is far from impressed and his disappointment is painful to watch.

Gearing collapses the rod and shakes his head. “But, that’s not what I was talking about.”

Handy and Swift both tilt their head, not catching his meaning.

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Have you forgotten who I am?!” He stands up, fans out his wings, straight up into the air with his head looking straight up, then rotates the wings so they both, while fanned out, are pointing in the same direction to his right, with his head following suit. As his wings catch the various light sources, creating sparkles everywhere, Gearing grins and says with amusement coating his voice, “I’m The Glorious Bastard!”

Scarlet snorts a laugh.

Gearing folds his wings neatly to his sides as his grin takes on a slightly mischievous tone. “I’ve also built these things… I can rig up a surprise for our friends out there that’ll even the odds.”

Swift and Handy’s ears perk up, and even Scarlet seems to have lost her amusement as they’ve given Gearing their undivided attention.

Swift’s eyes shift to Handy for a moment before looking back at Gearing. “Such as?”

Gearing waves a hoof around. “Oh, I have many tricks up my gears.” He points at his head. “It’s all up here… Just depends on what I have to work with buuuut… off the top of my head? How about sealing up that outer area and flooding it with gas?”

Swift’s and Handy’s eyes blink a few times.

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Look. I know you organics might not like this idea. But… that stuff doesn’t bother me. I don’t breathe.”

Handy and Swift exchange glances and blink a few more times.

Gearing points at the monitor and says with a sigh, “The area out there has its own auxiliary air circulatory system. It’s kept separate so any contamination doesn’t get into the stable. But, it still needs to circulate air, to make that area breathable… Sooo… We just get them all in there, even the rest of his crew, then I just tap into that auxiliary system, close off the system at specific points, and flood the room with gas. They’ll be dead before they can break through either door. No muss no fuss.”

Swift looks over at Handy sideways. “W- would that work?”

Handy’s eyes jump around for a few moments. When Swift actually turns her head to look at him Handy finally responds, “If the system’s segmented like that. Yeah…” He rummages in his saddlebag and pulls out a large crystal. “I have a chlorine talisman I salvaged a while ago… think you could use this to do it?”

Gearing looks it over and happily trots in place. “Definitely! Will just have to make a few more adjustments to make sure it stays gaseous, but I can definitely walk you through the process.”

Swift looks at Gearing and asks with a huff, “Why can’t you do it? It’s your idea and, like you said, you don’t need to breathe!”

Gearing looks at her a moment then narrows his eyes before pointing a hoof and waving it between the two. “Because neither of you trust me, at all. And the only one with the ability to make the modifications to the system needed to do this would be a registered Maintenance Pony… like mister Head of Maintenance here.” He stabs a hoof towards Handy as he looks at Swift.

Before she can say anything Gearing adds, “Unless you want to transfer all control over to me now, and let me have access to all systems, in which case I’ll gladly do it.”

Swift looks at Handy and glares daggers at him. “Do it.”

Handy already has his pipbuck up to his face, tapping out commands, before Gearing even finished his spiel. “I can just give him temporary access.”

Gearing shrugs. “Works for me. Maybe if we all survive this, you’ll actually trust me a bit.”

Swift smirks and puts her hooves close enough together that a gnat would have trouble getting between them. “A bit… maybe.”

Gearing’s pipbuck chimes and he looks at it as the robotic mare voice informs him, “Subject Gearing, Credentials verified as authorized member of ‘Temporary Maintenance’ roster. Authorization for maintenance duties and access granted.” Gearing snatches the crystal from Handy and says as he trots over to an access panel, “Keep him busy, and get the others in there. This won’t take long.”

Handy nods and looks at the monitor and turns back on the microphone. “Okay, Commander, I’ve let everyone know, but there are some concerns.”

Bradoak taps a hoof as he scowls at the camera. “You’re going to really make me waste all these explosives getting in there, aren’t ya?”

Handy replies quickly, “N- no! Not at all! You have to understand, we have mares and foals. They need assurances before they’re willing to just open the door and let you in.”

Bradoak tilts his head and frowns. “What kind of assurances?”

Handy taps on the side of the monitor as he counts out. “We want your word that you’ll let us all go.”

Bradoak rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I already said that, didn’t I?”

“You were also talking about selling us to slavers,” Handy reminds him.

Bradoak shoots a glance at the unicorn mare who tries to whistle as she finds a particular piece of debris on the floor incredibly fascinating. Bradoak looks back at the camera. “Okay. You’re right. No selling to slavers.”

“Okay, good, and neither you nor your men will shoot us?”

“No.”

“You’re not going to just track us down to do it later, are you?”

“Not unless we get a contract to,” Bradoak counters flatly.

“But that’d require you to get back to your boss first, right?” Handy asks.

Bradoak grins and nods. “Yessss, so you’d have a nice looooong head start by the time that happened.”

“No raping either. That’s not allowed either.”

Bradoak shakes his head and looks at the camera in horror. “The hell? I’m not going to rape you.”

“No one. No one rapes no one… no threats, at all,” Handy prods.

Bradoak slaps a hoof over his eyes. “Agreed.”

“We want your word on it. Your word as a Gunner that you’ll follow these terms,” Handy insists.

Bradoak grumbles then replies, “That’s what I saaaaid, isn’t it?”

“A verbal contract, is still a contract, Bradoak… so say it,” Handy points out.

Bradoak stands up straight and puts a hoof over his chest. “Neither me nor my men will harm any of you or your people, as long as we don’t have a contract to do so, and none of your people attack us first. Everypony in the stable is free to go. Does that sound fair?”

Handy catches a glint out of the side of his eye and sees Gearing sitting there, looking as pretty as can be. He strikes the same pose as before, silently, with his wings pointing off to the side of the hatch he just hopped out of.

Handy speaks into the microphone again, “That sounds like something we’d agree to, but first, you have to inform your men of the order.”

“What?” Bradoak’s voice comes out clearly indignant.

“There’s only three of you right there. I know you have more on the surface. We’re not coming out just to get gunned down the second we step out of the stairwell… so, bring down the rest of your men, and tell them, in front of the camera, so we can see it.”

Bradoak rolls his eyes. “Fine. Damn paranoid fucker.” He looks over at the other stallion and motions upstairs. “Tell the rest to get their asses down here. I want to be sleeping in a stable tonight.”

The subordinate hops up and runs up the stairs. Before he’s even off the stairwell he’s already yelling. “Hey! Commander Bradoak said to get your maggot asses downstairs before he beats your skulls in!”

Bradoak rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything about this creative interpretation of his orders. A few moments later a group of armed individuals starts trotting down the stairs. Handy’s arm starts shaking as he looks down at the dozen individuals taking up the space just beyond the door.

As they are gathered Bradoak begins reciting all of the various promises he’s made to the stable dwellers, and how they are all forbidden, by verbal contract, from doing anything to any of them except mean stares.

Gearing reaches over and lifts Handy’s hoof off the intercom button, drawing stares from both Handy and Swift. After establishing eye contact Gearing says flatly as he motions towards the door with his head, “Tell them the security protocol requires the outer door be closed, to open the inner door… Tell them it’s a contamination deterrent.”

Handy looks at him a moment and half closes one eye, not entirely grasping what Gearing is getting at, but then complies.

Bradoak waves it off. “I’ve heard about that kind of shit before. Go ahead. Hurry up and open up already.”

The outer doors start shutting and Handy’s eyes jump from the sight on the screen, over to Gearing who’s just finished tapping out a few commands on his pipbuck.

Gearing looks through a scroll of readings being presented to him from the stable, then looks up at Handy. He trails his eyes over to Swift and, as he’s bringing his eyes back to Handy he says flatly, “Blame me if it makes you feel better.” And slaps a hoof onto a button hanging from a cord out of the access port. The button seems to have been salvaged from an access port somewhere, and isn’t the prettiest job, but seems functional. Gearing slowly stands up, then walks over to the monitor and looks out into the entryway.

Handy asks quietly, as if they’d hear through the door, “H- how long?”

Gearing shakes his head then shrugs. “I rigged up a pressure storage area for it while you were still talking to them. The moment the doors closed I started emptying that batch into the room… coming from the stairs.” He looks at Handy and says softly, “So even though it’s a heavy gas the lowest concentration will be right outside this main door… they’re already dead.” He turns back to look at the screen as he adds, “Just a matter of how long it takes for their body to figure it out.”

Footnote: Pipbuck connection timed out.

Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Please wait, attempting to reestablish . . .

Author's Note

Chapter 2's introducing a few new individuals, along with doing a bit of foreshadowing and hinting at things going on.

For those wondering about the "Footnote" section, it will be explained what's going on with the pipbuck in a future chapter. And is, in actuality, another hint of an ongoing plot point.

Enjoy!

-Quillsy

17 Nesting Behavior

Fallout Equestria: Clockwork Precision

By Quillsy

Chapter 17: Nesting Behavior

As Gearing and Swift stand inside of the sky wagon service station and watch the floor return to it’s normal look by hiding the stairs down to the Stable 68 entrance, he asks, “You’ve got a bit more experience out here than I have, where do you want to go from here?”

Swift heads over and opens the door into the rest of the service station. “The town we’d heard about previously was called something like Megamac. It’s further north, but I want to make a bit of a detour. If we go a bit northwest first, we might be able to get some meat for the stable.”

Gearing shrugs. “Well, let me know if something’s edible and I’ll see what I can do.”

They head out of the service station, carefully closing the door behind themselves, then quickly scamper across the road. The desolation of Equestria just becomes more apparent to Gearing the further they travel along the path Swift is leading them on. An aerial view provided a pretty heart-wrenching picture as it was. But here, where the hoof meets the radioactive mud, the details painfully play across his vision with merciless quality. Buildings ranging in conditions from ‘legally condemnable’ to ‘pile of rubble’ and everything in between dot the landscape. Both in clusters and some in solitary defiance against gravity. A random skywagon imbedded in the ground. Skeleton of the pegasus driver still in the harness, sort of, and half buried in mud. A couple other skeletons in and around the wagon pay witness to the sudden fate of the flyer mid flight.

All too small skeletons.

After a couple hours, and heading into even more open hilly areas, Swift starts running around and looking at the ground. Gearing approaches by trotting up near her as he keeps an eye on the horizon and asks, “What ya find?”

Swift points a hoof at a couple sets of ground disturbances. “Radhog tracks. Several big ones judging by the prints.”

Gearing looks down at one of the imprints in the muddy soil for a moment before he asks, “You guys eat those?”

Swift looks at him and grins. “Ohh yeaaaah… They’re good alright!”

Gearing grins and waves ahead with a wing. “Well, let’s see if we can spot some. I’d like to get this rifle sighted in properly.”

Swift frowns as she eyeballs his weapon. “Shooting them’s just a cop out. I’d really rather just bash their face in with my hoof I find it much more…” She waves a hoof and lets out a soft sigh as she smiles lightly and finishes, “Satisfying.”

They continue on, with Swift in the lead following the tracks and Gearing keeping look out as they quickly cover distance. As they are cresting a hill, Swift jumps to the ground and crawls up behind a ratty bush as she waves for Gearing to get down. Which, thanks to his history, he does quickly without even asking why.

Until he’s already taken cover that is.

She points through the brush with a wing and says quietly, “They’re down in that gully area a bit to the left.”

Gearing crawls up to the bush and peeks through it as he looks around. Sure enough, there, a distance away, was a group of creatures rooting around in the lower section of where the small hills converged at their lowest points. Gearing looks the creatures over, and the slight movements he can notice through the shrubbery near them that betrays even further numbers of their kind. Unlike radroaches and mantises, these things didn’t simply get bigger from the radiation. They got ugly too. A whole lot uglier.

It’s like they took a swine dive off the great ugly tree of life, and hit every porking branch on the way down. The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head points out with a wrinkled muzzle of disgust and confusion.

A couple of the branches seemingly got stuck in their faces judging by the massive tusks. If they look this messed up, what’s going to happen to anypony that actually eats it? He’s not sure how anypony would be willing, or able, to eat this mutated bastardization of swine life, but if that’s what they want, why not.

Gearing pulls out his rifle and starts looking over the scope as he asks softly, “How many were you thinking?”

Swift looks at them and licks her lips as she wiggles her shoulders in anticipation. “I’m sure we can get at least two.”

Pafft.

Her ear’s twitch and her eyes widen as she sees a pair of radhogs, one quite large, slump to the ground. The smaller one falling sideways as part of it’s head opens up suddenly. Her eyes jump to their widest as she looks over at Gearing. “Nice shot!”

Gearing frowns. “Dammit… sights were off… thought so.”

She tilts her head and closes her mouth as she regards him, but notices the next two quick shots as he fires, chambers a new round smoothly, and fires again in rapid succession.

Pafft, pafft.

She looks back through the bushes and sees the radhogs have, at this point, realized that something is wrong, and have gone running away over the next hill squealing. One of which being potentially traumatized as its flank is spattered with what remained of one of the other radhog’s heads. She looks over at Gearing and rolls her eyes as she punches the ground. “Dammit, Gearing, I wanted to get some frustrations out.”

“Really?” Gearing looks at her as he’s grabbing his brass off the ground and smirks. “I thought you were wanting some mutated hog meat for you and the kids?”

She frowns and partially pouts, “Could have done both!”

They trot down into the dirt bowl and survey the damage.

Four radhogs lay on the ground motionless, three of them quite large and another one looking only a bit smaller than the others. Swift pulls out a knife and happily trots up to one of them as she looks it over and starts licking her lips.

“Hey…” Gearing calls out as he’s walking up. “We probably want to wait until we get back to the stable for that.” She looks at him like he’s crazy and he adds, “You can throw the parts you’re not going to eat into the recycler.”

She frowns as she waves the knife around at the corpses with her wing. “I wasn’t planning on carrying this much back… We’re going to have to go straight back to the stable. Carrying around a bunch of bloody meat has a habit of attracting problems out here...”

Gearing looks over at the smaller one as he’s stowing his rifle. “Think you can carry that one?”

She looks at it and shrugs. “Yeah. Sure… no problem, why-“ She stops talking mid sentence with her mouth hanging open. Gearing uses his wings, picks them up, and quickly piles all three of them on his back, then folds his wings up and over, holding the porcine pyramid in place, as he turns back towards the stable.

They stare at each other for a few moments before he rolls his eyes. “You do realize I weigh more than these three things combined, right?”

Swift looks at him and blinks a few times before grabbing the remaining, smaller, carcass and throwing it over herself. She already feels the need for a shower as the gooey blood runs down her sides, but she tries to focus on how delicious it is going to be once they get back home.

They head back as quickly as possible while being careful of their surroundings, with Swift continuing on at her much faster standard pace than Gearing’s capable of. He pauses at the crest of one of the hills, looking off to the side for a moment, before continuing on after her. By the time Gearing gets to the stable, Swift has already opened the door, entered, and is coming back to the door with a couple protectaponies to help cart off the soon-to-be food stuffs.

After passing over the bodies Gearing points back upstairs with his wing. “Go ahead and get to making your snacks. I saw a building I wanted to go check out. I’ll be back as soon as I can. By time I get back you should be done, then we can just go hit up Megamac or whatever it is.”

Swift looks at him for a moment before saying, “Don’t take forever,” and then starts shutting the door to the stable as they all retreat back further inside with their fleshy prizes.

Before the door’s even shut Gearing’s already headed back upstairs and left. He heads as quickly as he can towards the area where they had been hunting. He’d seen something familiar from one of those hills, and he wanted to see if it held anything remotely close to what they’d need.

After getting back to the general area where he was sure he’d seen the building in question, he starts cresting the hills to look in the direction he thinks it is. Sure enough, he sees the familiar shape of a Fixit Bro’s Hardware store on the near side of a collection of smaller buildings that seem to make up either a small stretch of shops for a smaller town, or possibly they are actually the entire ‘town’ in the sense of smaller rural towns composed of little more than a post office.

He zips up to the back door, and finds it already open. He steps in, and right onto a radroach that for once seemed to be trying to mind its own business, as he starts looking around. Unlike what he had hoped, this building has indeed mostly been looted. The shelves of the shopping area are entirely empty, except for random trash and signs that at some point somepony used this place to sleep with piles of filthy cloths and blankets set around as makeshift bedding. The cash register has even been broken into already and all of the money’s been removed.

Discarded in the hallway to the back office he finds a metal toolbox sitting in a puddle. Rusted beyond all sense. But, it’s still closed, so he works to get it open anyway. Eventually he gives up trying to pick the lock, and realizes that the locks been corroded shut. So, he goes the high-tech ultra-smooth Ministry of Awesome approved method for opening it.

He tilts it on its side and steps on it, caving it in and popping it open under his bulk.

A few of the tools inside are pretty much useless thanks to mismanagement. The toolbox had done its job and, while the box itself was rusted beyond belief on the outside, the inside had remained intact and dry enough. All of the damage the tools on the inside had sustained was probably caused before they were even put into the box.

The few things he does find worth scavenging are limited to the wire cutters, a trio of razor blades, a small box of electrical wire caps, and a spool of high tensile strength wire that still has its shine.

He heads up the stairs to the second floor, and finds that half the roof is missing, exposing that portion of the second floor to the elements and open sky. A few of the boards he has to avoid, and walk on the joists. Even some joists he has to avoid as they seem to give just a bit too much, even with him stepping on them gingerly, to risk it.

As he’s going through a dresser and looking for anything hidden among the random clothing his ears twitch. He looks over at the window as the sound of screaming gets louder then, unmistakably, the sound of various gunfire erupts not far away. He pulls out his rifle and hops over to the spot where the window had once been, as even the frame and some of the surrounding wall is missing, and looks further down the road to the opposite side of ‘town’ he’d come in.

At the end of the street, in a three story brick building, someone has taken cover inside and is putting up a pretty effective defense against a group of attackers. He looks through his scope and takes in the scene from his position. He can’t make out who is trying to keep the others out of the building, but the ones gathering out front certainly don’t look friendly.

The filthy ponies, at least he’s sure all of them are ponies, have a variety of spikes and studs all over their barding. He’s not sure how much protection the bits of chains would provide, but is sure that it functions well enough for them in the intimidation department. Assuming this isn’t some troop of BDSM kinkers. But he’s sure the shotguns and pistols aren’t part of that kind of troop’s typical uniform.

One of them bum rushes the door to the building, and proves just how worthless some of that armor is as they get knocked sideways and back out into the street. Missing a good portion of their head for their attempt.

Gearing takes to the air and, as he’s gaining altitude and swinging wide to try and come into the building from the side, he can see a group of ponies running away from the scene from the back of the building. Whoever is causing the ruckus up front is doing a fabulous job of giving the others time to get away. He decides that, if nothing else, he’d like to meet this individual holding the line.

As he’s flying in through a missing third floor window he can hear the random screaming from the front filled with profanity and promises of mutilation and gang rape.

He can’t help but smile as he thanks the universe for idiots who like to run their mouths. That makes things so much simpler.

He hops down and quickly heads to the second floor, but, as he’s opening the door that leads to the stairwell to the first floor he hears the noise increase downstairs. Apparently they had gotten in, possibly through a side door or maybe they all just rushed through the front, but the fight comes to a climactic end as many guns open fire simultaneously, and the screams of multiple voices yell out and are suddenly silenced.

He stands there looking at the stairwell as he listens to the argument taking place on the first floor.

“Caravaner bitch is finally dead!” a mare yells out with sadistic satisfaction.

“Why’d you kill her!? Dead can’t suffer!” a buck curses.

“Fuck you, there’s only six of us left now!” she screams back.

Thanks for the headcount, Gearing thinks. He shuts the door enough to leave it cracked as he decides to have a little fun with this group. He can’t save her. It’s too late for that. But he can at least avenge her or his ass ain’t shiny.

* * *

After arguing for a while longer, the group of raiders decide to split up and look for the rest of her caravan, with a couple hurrying up the stairs hoping to catch them and finally get some of their frustrations out.

Two raiders open the door from the stairwell into the second floor hallway that functions as one of the storage areas for this business. The first looks back and forth with a pistol gripped in his mouth, the other steps behind the first with a double shotgun as he slowly advances. These aren’t the yellow-eyed madmen that feast on the fallen. This pair of earth pony stallions are far more dangerous. For they actually have some sense of self-preservation. And at least enough sense to know they should be worried and wary.

The room they walk into is mostly a long hallway with shelves and cabinets on both sides of the hall leading to a set of stairs going up to the third floor. A pair of doors, one on each side, in the midway point of the hall is all that breaks the long string of shelving and cabinetry.

They look at each other then the one with the pistol points to the door on the left, and they both trot over there, side by side, as they approach the door. As they are getting close to the door, a twinkle of silver light shimmers in front of them, then suddenly they are jerked up by their necks like a kitten being grabbed by the scruff.

Simultaneously Gearing flops down from the above exposed metal rafters to the floor where they had just been standing. Giving just enough wing power to reduce his impact to a soft plop in the process.

The pistol goes clattering across the floor, and the shotgun fires off both barrels, trashing a metal cabinet near the door as he’d fired in surprise more than anything, before likewise falling to the ground as they silently scream and clutch at their necks.

Gearing wraps the pair of wires he has bunched on his left hoof around the support frame where a fire extinguisher would normally be stationed by the left door and tests it for stability before directing his eyes to his two pony piñatas. “Hang around for a while.”

They thrash and kick around as the wire bites deep into their neck, blood trailing down from both of them from the sudden force of being strung up by the high tensile strength wire by Gearing’s over abundant mass.

“Not exactly piano wire… but it’ll do… ouuu presents!” He grabs a sword, from its position attached to the shotgun wielding stallion’s barding, that looks in horrendous repair but might be serviceable with some special Gearing tender loving care. Gearing continues to the end of the hall with the sword held in his wing, and up the concrete steps as their thrashing slows into involuntarily twitching.

A moment later the door at the end of the hall opens up again and another raider pokes his head in, he quickly shuts the door and, after a bit of muffled muttering, the door opens again with the three raiders coming into the hall and walking down looking in every direction as they advance.

They walk over to examine their comrades and find them already limp and lifeless, staring off into space with their eyes bugging out and tongue hanging limply to the side with blood covering a good portion of their torsos and dripping from their hind legs. The first checks the door in front of the pair of bodies on the left side of the hall, and it opens smoothly. Revealing just another small storage closet with an oversized vacuum and shelves of cleaning supplies.

They turn and stack up at the door on the right, with the unicorn mare holding up a rifle pointed at the stairwell while the other two focus on the right door. The earth pony mare in the lead opens the door to the right slowly, which again, slides open smoothly.

And, just as smoothly, comes off its hinges as the trap detonates and fills that area of the hallway with fire and shrapnel. The two at the door are killed instantly, turning into chunky masses that get stuck in the shelving across the hallway. The unicorn, having been furthest from the blast, flops around on the ground, rolling side to side as she tries to hold her throat with both hooves and tries to keep herself from arterial spraying. She grabs her bag and smacks out a healing potion in her panic as she holds one hoof to the gaping wound. As she’s bringing it to her mouth to pull the top off with her levitation field, it gets taken from her by a blur of green and gold.

Gearing looks at it and bobs his head around as he holds it aloft with his wing. “Hmm. Yeah, I don’t think so.” He stabs her with his new-to-him sword through the chest, as he stows the potion in his bag. After she’s gone still, he flicks off the blood and continues on towards the stairwell where all five had entered through as he hums to himself.

“Where or where has my little dog gooooone… Oh where oh where can he beeee...”

* * *

The raider in the office looks up and his eyes go wide as his ears twitch and he hears, and feels, the explosion on the second floor. “Dammit guys, we can’t salvage the shit if you burn the place down.” He continues stripping the equipment off the dead caravanner, before picking her up and throwing her bare body into the bathroom across the hall. “Such a mess. Should have just coughed up the goods, filly.”

“Expect her to bend over and present flank for you while she was at it?”

The raider’s head zips to the source of the voice and looks just in time to catch a brass hoof to the jaw, the earth pony spins around horizontally smashing into the door frame for the office before starting to fall back towards Gearing. He catches another brass hoof, and his head is driven down into the ground where he twitches a few times before he starts shaking and convulsing violently as the stun rod goes to work crackling over the stallion’s body.

When the raider next wakes up, he’s been stripped of all of his equipment, and his stash of pilfered goods has been removed from the office. He groggily starts picking himself up, but then gets forced to the ground as Gearing, no longer wearing his own equipment, steps on him. “Good, you’re awake. I need your help with something,” Gearing says from near his ear.

“Go fuck yourself with Celestia’s hindhooves,” the stallion grunts at him from the tile floor.

“Ruuuude.” Gearing jabs a small dart into the raider’s neck.

“Ow! What the fuck!? You think that’s enough to torture me into helping you, you’ve got another thing coming. You’re dead!”

“Actually…” Gearing turns and bucks the raider further into the room, slamming the door shut and using a steel rod to make sure it won’t open again. “Torturing you is how you’re going to help me.”

The stallion jumps up and starts beating on the metal door as he looks through the small wire reinforced security glass window and starts screaming at Gearing, “Wait till I get out of here, I’m going to gut you and wear your intestines like a fucking scarf, you Steel Ranger prick!”

Gearing actually smirks, having conflicting feelings on taking that as a compliment, given the usual protectapony nonsense he gets so regularly. “Don’t think so. You’re infected.” Gearing holds up the tiny dart with his wing so the stallion can see through the glass.

The raiders eyes go wide a second before his hoof jumps up to hold his neck. His voice comes out a bit higher pitched as he screams, “The fuck ya do to me?!”

Gearing carefully sets the dart on a metal crate nearby before he sits down primly. “Just a little prick… I need to know how quickly this batch of Blood Hunger takes to set in.” He holds up his pipbuck and checks the time as he says, “Once you start eating yourself, I’ll know.”

The stallion wavers on his hind hooves as he looks around. “Y- you infected me with Raider Disease?!” He starts beating on the door more. “I’m not a fucking cannibal, this ain’t right!”

“You will be soon enough.” Gearing shrugs. “But, don’t worry. Once I get what I need, I’ll make sure it doesn’t spread. I’ll burn the corpse.”

The stallion beats on the door rapidly and screams with shrill tones, “You can’t fucking do this! This is fucked up!”

“I already have… ohhh don’t look at me like that.” Gearing waves a hoof then steps to the side and points into the bathroom at the corpse of the caravanner. “You murder for profit and sport. Capital punishment’s a bitch. And so is Karma.”

The stallion beats on the metal door with both forehooves, together, as he screams, “Why don’t you just fucking kill me then!?”

Gearing sits staring at him as he says flatly, “I need to know how dangerous this is. Who better to use it on than someone I’m gonna kill anyway?”

The raider starts chuckling and leans on the glass. “Aawww... you going to stay here and be my foalsitter until it finally drives me loony?” He scratches at himself and chuckles. “What’s the meal schedule?”

Gearing stares at him and chuckles. “You are you’re last meal…”

The raider starts beating on the door again as he snarls, “You have any idea how long this shit takes?!”

Gearing nods. “Actually. I do.” He holds up a large piece of mirror to the security glass in front of the raider so they can see themselves and says flatly, “You’re eyes are already yellowing.”

“N- no!” The raider gapes at the mirror then starts shaking. “No way! This can’t be happening!”

“Oh… it’s happening.” Gearing nods and sets the mirror to the side.

The raider starts giggling and biting at the door. “Ooohhh my friends are going to enjoy fucking you to death. Tin can armor or no…”

Gearing stares at him then points up with a wing. “They’re already dead.” He points at the raider behind the glass and Gearing’s eyes enlarge, as does his grin. “You drew the short straw.”

Gearing watches as, over the scant course of an hour, the raider’s mental faculties quickly erode and he becomes increasingly more erratic. He keeps notes in his pipbuck, keeping his ears alert to his surroundings as he watches the raider quickly go through the stages of madness until he does start biting on himself. After the raider’s put repeated pockmarks on both forelegs, Gearing decides it’s been long enough and he doesn’t want to have a bigger mess of infected blood than he is already going to have to clean.

He removes the steel rod, and the raider doesn’t pay him much mind until the door swings open. The raider looks at him, as he’s pulling off a mouthful of his own flesh from a foreleg and giggles in glee before he jumps at Gearing and screams, “Canned meat!”

Gearing silences him by thrusting the pointed end of the steel rod forward and using the raider’s own momentum, and madness, to skewer the stallion’s brain. Gearing stares the raider in the eyes, watching as, even in this dead and dying state, the madness is still present. Etched into his features and yellow eyes for all time.

He slides a metal box over, and uses the rod to pick the stallion up and stick the body into the metal crate like so much refuse. Gearing carefully picks it up and carries it through the building to the back loading area, where the loading bay door stands wide open. He drags out one of the metal containers from the loading bay with the warning symbols on the side barely visible. He carefully pumps out some of the liquid into another large container. He slides and drags the barrel further away from the building, and then dumps the body of the raider into it from the crate, sending a large splash of the chemical over the edges as it overflows, causing him to jump back. He drops the metal crate next to it, and dumps a bucketful of the chemical into the crate he’d brought the body out with.

He trots over to a bathtub nearby and jumps into his already prepared bath of fizzling chemicals. The fumes are, putting it mildly, unpleasant. But, he can handle it. He can’t risk this getting out and infecting anyone. Especially with what he knows now. So him getting a little bleach bath is more than a fair price to pay. He stays in the water for a while: splashing around and looking rather ridiculous in his personal oversized bird bath as he keeps dipping down to coat his wings and back. After being satisfied anything that was alive on him is dead, he jumps out, shakes off, and heads back into the loading bay.

Using his stun rod and a metal frame to cause a spark, he ignites a hoofful of ancient paperwork, and chucks it at the barrel, causing a massive fireball before the barrel and metal crate both begin hotly burning like oversized lamps. He grabs the large bucket he’d reserved some liquid in, and splashes it into the office where the raider had been, before using the stun rod on the handle to ignite that room as well. Ducking back and away from the fiery back blast.

As the fires burn and send smoke billowing higher into the sky, Gearing puts on his gear, grabs all of the things he’d salvaged from the building and the raiders, and the body of the olive-maned caravanner. Who is now respectfully dressed again.

* * *

Gearing stays low to the ground near some rubble as he peers into the gloom towards where a small fire is burning in an alcove of a crumbling building. It took him a bit to track them down, and he’s really hoping he’d judged the situation right, otherwise this night is going to start sucking pretty soon. His eyes trail up to the second floor of the mostly collapsed building and stares into the dark corner up above the apparent camping area. A glint of light from that shadow is the only indication of movement as he looks at that dark patch. He puts a hoof to his mouth and yells out loudly, “Hey! Caravaners!”

Sounds of hooves hitting the ground and various metallic noises greet him almost instantly in response as the caravanners scramble for cover and take up defensive positions.

“Who’s out there! Show yerself!” a stallion yells from the lower level.

“I’m a friend, don’t shoot!” Gearing calls out before he slinks around and starts coming from a different direction.

“Well, come on out and let us see for ourselves, then,” the stallion responds.

Gearing pokes his combat helmeted head cautiously around a wall and looks in at them before he says, “Ullo!” cheerfully.

Five weapons turn to point at him and he ducks back behind the wall.

“If I was going to start shooting at you, I already would have! I’m not a raider!” Gearing yells from behind the wall as he ducks down.

“Well, what do ya want?” the crotchety stallion yells back.

Gearing lets out a long sigh as he looks around. “It’d be easier for me to show you. If ya just give me a minute.” He pokes around the corner again and sees them all appraising each other and the older stallion motions Gearing in with a rifle.

“Alright, come on in… but don’t try any funny business.”

Gearing walks around slowly, with his back loaded and covered with a large canvas bundle. He walks over near the fire, and gently starts tilting sideways, lowering his burden to the ground with his wings. He looks them over and frowns as he puts a forehoof on the bundle at his hooves.

The earth pony stallion steps into the light and looks at the canvas a moment then at Gearing and asks softly as he motions towards the bundle at Gearing’s hooves, “What’s that there?”

Gearing shakes his head lightly and lets out a sigh. “I didn’t know what else to do with her. Didn’t feel right just leaving her back there.” He pulls the fabric back and shows the bloodstained worn traveling jacket with the olive mane spilling out.

A peach unicorn mare jumps over a pile of rubble as her magic holding up her shotgun implodes and she screams, “Sugarbell!” She runs over and slides across the ground towards the body, uncovering the earth pony mare’s head and cradling it in her forelegs.

Gearing sits down, looks at her, and says softly, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The peach unicorn pulls back the rest of the canvass with her magic and starts drawing Sugarbell up into herself as she wails, “You stupid idiot! You were just supposed to just keep them busy a couple minutes then run!” She starts rocking, holding the body, as she buries her face into Sugarbell’s mane and blubbers, “You- you jackass… How could you do this to me?!”

The crotchety stallion walks over and asks Gearing quietly, “Did- … Did they? You know?” He hangs his head and sighs. “Raiders don’t kill ya quickly sometimes…”

Gearing looks at him for a moment then shakes his head. “No, she died fighting.”

The crying peach unicorn looks up at him with waterlogged eyes and asks with a sniffle, “And the raiders?”

“Oh, them?” Gearing gives a wide grin as his eyes go wide. “They just died.”

The older stallion sits down as he looks at Sugarbell. “Well… thank you for bringing her back to us. She at least deserves a proper burial.”

The peach unicorn feels around Sugarbell’s neck and peeks under her jacket. She looks up at Gearing and asks softly, “I… I know this might sound stupid… but… did you find a locket on the raiders? By any chance?”

Gearing pulls up his inventory sorter on his Pipbuck and starts looking through his items. “Let me see, they had a lot of crap.” He zips through the list then grins. “Hey, this might be it!” He grabs the item off the top of his saddlebag, where his sorter enchantment had so lovingly placed it, and holds the metallic necklace with the ivy motif aloft by it’s chain with one of his green wings. “Is this it?”

She nods and stares at it as she asks, “W- what do you want for it? I’ll pay you, name your price.”

Gearing stretches out his wing and sets it on Sugarbell’s still chest. “Keep your caps... but I could use some information.”

She nods and picks it up with a pained smile in her yellow magic field. It opens up and she shows the image inside as she says with a choke, “I had a friend paint it for us… I always thought she looked adorable in this picture.”

Gearing looks at it and his heart aches just that much more. Inside is a delicately painted headshot picture of the peach mare, giving a kiss to the cheek of a very surprised, shocked, and all together embarrassed looking Sugarbell as they’d posed for some camera. He smiles lightly and nods. “Yeah. I agree.”

The peach mare closes the locket, stows it in one of her pockets, then sits there rocking side to side with Sugarbell in her forehooves as she mutters and talks about things quietly to her lost lover.

The crotchety stallion pulls Gearing aside, to the other side of the fire to give them a moment of privacy as he asks, “You said you were looking for some information? What you need to know? We’ll help all we can.” He motions over towards Sugarbell and says softly, “That was a damned decent thing of you to do, friend.”

“Oh I’m not done yet…” Gearing sits down and grins widely. “I think you’re gonna love this, actually.”

The stallion looks him over, feeling a bit uneasy suddenly, but asks, “What ya mean?” As he tilts his head the firelight shifts across his face revealing a number of old scars across his straw yellow muzzle. And discerning brown eye of someone who’s lived on the trail much longer most.

Gearing waves a hoof around. “I wanna know where more of those bastards are. I want to start cleaning up the wastes. One cesspit at a time.” He waves a wing off to the side as he leans over towards, and grins at, the stallion. “You just set’em up, and I’ll knock’em down.” He sits there as primly as possible as he chuckles, “Hell, spread the word, get your friends involved. Traders seem to be one of their favorite targets. You guys get around a lot too. So just pass around the information, as I’m sure you already do, and I’ll check on whatever I hear.”

The stallion tilts his head and asks, “And… just what do you get out of it?”

Gearing puts a hoof to his chest and grins. “Well... as corny as it sounds, it is my job, actually… ” He looks over at Sugarbell and motions towards the pair with the same hoof as he says softly, “But, I really don’t want to see that anymore.”

The peach unicorn hops over from her side of the fire and asks softly, “Did I hear that right? You going after slavers too, or just raiders?”

Gearing looks at her a second, and can see the scowl on her face. She’s past the pain, at least for the moment, this is about vengeance. He shrugs and gives her a grin. “Same difference in my book. Both of them enjoy profiting and getting off on the misery of others.”

She steps closer and looks him in the eye almost point blank as she says, “I know where a group of slavers are. Bastards got Sugarbell’s pa a little while ago.” She closes her eyes and looks over at the tenderly cared for corpse tucked into the canvas sheet. “We already know he’s been sold off to Red Eye already, and he’s most likely dead.” She turns back to Gearing and scowls. “But if you’d kill those fucks. You’d not only be doing right by a lot of folks, but I’d consider it a personal favor to me and Sugarbell.”

Gearing starts chuckling as he looks over at the older stallion. He swings back towards her with his Pipbuck opened to his map and grins at the peach mare. “Gimmie some cords, and I’ll give you some corpses.”

She looks from the Pipbuck to his eyes and asks, “That’s it?”

Gearing nods and grins widely, enough the fire light actually shines off his teeth and so wide his eyes close. “Thank you for your patronage; don’t forget to tell your friends and family.”

She quickly taps on a couple areas and Gearing sets a marker, she nods her thanks as the tears resume and she scurries back over to be with her love one last time.

The straw yellow stallion leans over and says softly, “If you’re really looking for a list… go check out MegaMart around Hoofington… Bottlecap keeps a board of jobs on it, and she might know of a few others that could be handled.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gearing looks over at him and nods slowly. “But, if that’s the case, try to get that info spread around. I’m going to be traveling quite a bit and having to travel all the way back to a single spot to get my next pit stop would be problematic.”

The caravanner takes off his travel worn wide-brimmed hat and rubs a hoof through his earthy brown mane, disturbing some of the duller streaks that betray his age, before replacing it. “I can see that being a problem…” He looks up at Gearing and gives a mostly toothy smile. “My name’s Short Road. Friends call me Roadie.” He tilts his head as he looks Gearing over in the dim light, noticing a few twinkles of reflected light off the side of Gearing’s muzzle from the campfire. “That is one interesting suit of armor… You aren’t one of those Steel Rangers, they don’t give a shit about anypony. Who are you?”

“No one special.” Gearing shrugs and waves a hoof lightly. “Just a traveling repairpony.” He lowers his head as he snickers, then tilts his head so his helmet blocks the majority of the light on his face as he grins. “And it seems to me Equestria’s just one big fixer-upper.”

The caravanner starts chuckling as he shakes his head. As he slows down he looks up and regards Gearing for a few moments. “Listen here, young buck. I know there’s been a few out there inspiring others to make Equestria better… But don’t let all of that foolishness make you charge off and get yourself killed. I’m not telln’ ya to stop… But just realize Equestria’s mighty big… and you’re just one pony.”

Gearing grins at him and tilts his head the other way. “Don’t worry. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. And… Equestria might be big, but…” He flares his wings up, for the first time giving a clear view of them as his grin just gets bigger and they reflect and refract the light around himself. “I can get around pretty quick when I need to.” He settles down and starts looking at his Pipbuck as he mutters to himself, “Speaking of which…”

The caravanner tilts side to side trying to look at the map that Gearing’s perusing on his Pipbuck. “Do I even want to know?”

Gearing closes out of it and grins at the older stallion. “Nothing major. Equestria’s apparently got a few leaky pipes…. There’s muck positively everywhere that needs raking…” He starts turning as he chuckles. “And I think I have enough night left to swing by one more.”

The caravanner waves with a chuckle as Gearing hops over the rubble pile and quickly disappears into the darkness beyond.

* * *

Under the cover of night, and an intentionally overcast sky, Gearing has no problems taking flight and making the trip to the little marker on his map. During the day it’s a bit problematic to fly as he’s more than a bit conspicuous. An understandable side effect of being composed of metal and crystal. But the night gives him a perfect opportunity to fly to, and around, the compound with impunity.

He’s pretty sure if he just started a fight, even from the air, the occupants would be more than willing to look up and shoot back. However, with the apparent lack of pegasi in the modern Equestrian wasteland, the ones on watch are doing so from comfortable positions, but all looking out around the horizon. As he’s passing over, his Pipbuck chimes with a location marker, old or new he can’t tell: Tower’s Towing.

Which would probably explain the large number of wrecked wagons in this fenced in area. Not that much of the original chain link fence was still standing. And most of what constituted the barrier around the compound was stacked wagons and large pieces of scrap. A bus of some kind has been set vertical near the front entrance and seems to be used as some sort of watch tower. Judging by the pony with the rifle looking out the back window and standing on the backside of one of the seats.

Most of the rest of the ‘compound’ is little more than rusted out vehicles being used as rooms or storage. A metal covered wagon with its wheels removed seems to be the central hub of the group. They probably used the office trailer that actually is in the dead center of everything, before it was burnt down in some fire that still looks relatively recent.

Mixed in with the red markers on his EFS are a variety of blue. Most of which are crammed into little pockets. One such pocket Gearing clearly notices is a familiar style cage with filthy ponies wearing rags. At least for those that do have anything on. The only hold out of the blue sort is notably in the metal wagon without its wheels resting on the ground. And there is a red marker with them. He can image what’s going on in there and none of it has to do with afternoon crumpets and mint tea.

But, he needs to do this smart. Which means paying the red marker in that six story building not far away a visit first.

He’s not sure how this earth pony stallion even got all the way up here. He’d been up here for a while, judging by the fresh muck pile on the floor below. And repeatedly, judging by the not so fresh piles in the same general area and the piles of empty food cartons and bottles in the room he’s in. The building, that looks like it was an apartment complex at one point, has mostly collapsed. A few of the rooms are still standing on this side as the one outer wall seems to stubbornly refuse to fall. But the ‘sixth floor’ is really little more than half of two side by side apartments, with the rest having fallen down into rubble long ago.

To the earth pony stallion’s credit, he never took his eyes off the approaching road towards the slaver encampment. Not even when the silenced end of Gearing’s rifle is brought up inches from his head and whispers out an introduction to Luna.

Pafft.

Though that’s easy to do when you literally don’t hear it coming.

Gearing shoves the sniper over and takes over his position. He looks the rifle already laid out over, and decides to set it aside. As much karma might be unleashed by getting to work using their own rifles on them, this isn’t a time to use unproven equipment. What’s worse, the ammo type isn’t even the same. So he just clears the area as he lies down on the provided pile of debris, so lovingly placed by the sniper when he was making his nest, and starts looking around the area with his own scope.

This really was an excellently placed and prepared location. He mentally tips his hat to the dead stallion to his side in a sense of professional respect. He was a real piece of work that’s going to, before the night is out, begin to spend the rest of eternity basting and rotting in his own fecal matter. But, Gearing can still give credit where credit is due.

And this stallion had made it his business to be able to see almost the entire encampment, with clear lines of sight, along with most of the road and areas beyond. So much the better to take out any approaching threats. Or runners. Or being the final arbitrator if a deal for pony flesh goes sour. And, the ever popular, putting an end to any heroic types that thought sneaking in and rescuing anypony was a good idea.

Gearing goes through his head as he remembers the locations of the red dots he’d seen before. He quickly looks through the encampment, trying to pick out where they had gone. The nights still relatively young, so there’s no reason for them all to be in bed yet. Some of them even seem to still be celebrating, or partying.

No time like the present, because you never know when you’re times going to come and you’ve seen your last day. Especially in the Equestrian Wasteland.

Pafft.

Like that fellow that had been taking a long pull from a liquor bottle, only to drop it and slump backwards off his stool against a wooden crate that becomes just a bit shinier in the lamp light. And redder. His companion stands up and leans across the table, pointing a hoof and looking like she’s laughing at the stallion who’d fallen off their seat in an apparently drunken stupor. Is it a she? Kind of hard to tell from these distances sometimes.

Pafft.

No matter. She twitches mid laugh then flops down onto the table, not to move as the shot convinced her to take a short nap.

Gearing’s scope zips over to the left side, which is actually the back end of the encampment, as he smiles and says softly to himself, “There’s just something about nights like this… Nice and quiet... Feeling the cool breeze flowing over yo- Ello there!”

A buck walking around one of the wagons nearest him heading towards the back catches his attention and he quickly lines up the shot before he can get to the corner and around it.

Pafft.

He didn’t make it to the corner and instead crumples into a barely visible heap.

Movement catches his eye in the scope and he slides it over a bit more to the left as the crosshairs show a mare coming around the other side of the wagon.

Pafft.

She had enough time to come around the corner towards the one that had just fallen and open her mouth, but that was it before she fell as well.

“You know… I wonder if they’d ever considered a different line of work?”

Pafft.

An earth pony opens a metal door from the back of a wagon and closes it, managing to get a few steps away from the door before kissing dirt.

He loads in another magazine as he comments, “I mean really, danger aside, at what point of depravity do you decide selling your fellow ponies is a good idea?” He chambers a round and quickly looks where he’d just seen a light twinkle.

Pafft.

A unicorn had entered a minibus and gotten near the end before crumpling in the middle of the aisle from a shot through an already shattered window.

He slowly moves the rifle scope around as he sighs, “At least the yellow eyed raiders had a mind eating disease as an excuse… what’s this nonsense?” He stops and follows a buck, waiting for him to get passed and away from a pair that are walking a different direction.

Pafft.

The stallion falls forward and slides down the slight embankment he was heading for, head first into the latrine and Gearing watches through the scope as the head completely disappears under the surface of the cesspit.

“Shity way to go,” he starts chuckling as he moves the scope back to find the two that had just walked by the last one. “Oh, those two are kissing… well… damn.”

Pafft.

“Thanks for saving me the ammo,” he comments as he chambers another round and the two mares slump to the ground in an eternal embrace. “Not a horrible way to go, probably better than they deserved…”

Reload.

Pafft. Pafft. Pafft. Pafft.

“And then there were two…”

Pafft.

He watches as the pony that had been in the improvised watchtower at the tail end of the bus crumples and falls down through the inside of the bus and all the way down to ground level. He puts in another magazine, and picks up all of his brass, with his wings, counting them out dutifully.

He walks back towards the gaping hole where most of the building has collapsed and dips his head towards the dead slaver sniper. “Thanks for letting me borrow your spot. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He jumps out into the night sky, flying around and again does a pass over of the slaver compound. This time, the compound is far more still than it was previously, and the only red marker coming up in his vision inside of the town is the one with the blue marker in the wheel-less wagon.

He lands at the back end, and ever so carefully opens the door. His ears twitch at the sound of grunting and flank slapping and not even the overcast night sky can hide his scowl as he very slowly, and carefully, slips in.

He steps up behind the dirty red stallion rutting away against some kind of table with somepony’s hindhooves shackled to the table legs.

The next moment the stallion is on his knees, as Gearing has pulled him backwards and down by stepping on the back of one of his knees and using his substantial weight to force them to the ground. But the startled scream is muffled, and rather quiet, as Gearing executes his own variety of a headlock by using his right foreleg as a bit and has it crammed into the stallion’s mouth hard enough to press the back of his head into Gearing’s chest.

Gearing takes in the scene, and looks over at the vacant eyed stare of the green mare with a very noticeable device around her neck. She’s been gagged and, apparently, beaten repeatedly. Judging by her disheveled filthy state, and the various fluids on and around the makeshift bed, this isn’t a new occurrence and the individual struggling to get Gearing’s brass arm out of his mouth quite probably wasn’t the original red dot that had been in here before Gearing got comfortable in his nest.

Gearing whistles over at her, and keeps trying to get her attention. Finally he just yells at her, “Hey! … Should I pull the trigger or not?” Sometimes it’s best to get outside verification. EFS can be wrong at times. It’s been known to happen.

This seems to startle her enough back to reality to look wide-eyed in fright at him. But then her eyes narrow as she sees Gearing’s wing holding a pistol to the stallion’s head.

The stallion, to his credit, finally realized his full peril and started trying to fight and get away as he finally notices Butter Churn’s 10mm pistol an inch from his temple. Even as futile as it was given his body’s twisted position and the brass monstrosity holding him firmly in place.

The green mare locks eyes with Gearing, then at the stallion, and the scowl grows on her face as she starts nodding, ever faster, and doesn’t even stop after Gearing has already pulled the trigger and thrown the stallion’s limp body to the side.

Gearing holsters his pistol and pulls out some tools, her eyes keep jumping to the door behind him as she tries to say something, but is muffled. He quickly unlocks her hind legs, which she quickly retracts towards herself as she tries to turn sideways. He uses his wings to remove her mouth gag, as he starts undoing her remaining hoof restraints. As he gets the last one undone, she wraps her hooves around him and sobs. She tries to speak, but can’t and nothing intelligible makes sense. He pulls back to look at her with a smile, to tell her it’s going to be okay, but notices the true reason she’s not talking, and his words are likewise stolen from him.

As her tongue had already been stolen from her.

He has her sit still, and then quickly removes the bomb collar. He’s really starting to hate whoever invented this despicable device. He has her show him where the rest of the slaves have been held and, as they are stepping out, she looks around warily.

Gearing jumps out of the wagon noisily, causing her to jump in the air in shock as she stares at him with her mouth hanging open. He looks at her then points a wing to where they were going. “I wouldn’t have asked you to show me… if any of them were still alive.” She tilts her head and her ears twitch around as she tries to determine how this could possibly be. Gearing points into the wagon and grins. “He was the last one here.”

She grins widely and begins crying again as she nods, and then she starts quickly leading the way around the encampment. The slavers had three separate cages for holding ponies. Two were full of bucks and the third one was positively crammed with mares. All of them wearing bomb collars.

He zips around, unlocking and disarming all of their restraints and holding cells, going one at a time, and letting them out to do whatever they want. The desperation and fear in their eyes quickly gets replaced by confusion. Pure. Distilled. Confusion.

As he’s removing the last bomb collar, from the neck of an aquamarine mare, a few of the others watch in amazement at his quick work. One of the other mares, a brown earth pony who refuses to leave her side even with the possibility of the bomb going off and harming her as well, asks, “Not that I’m not grateful… but… why are you doing this?”

“Group of caravanners told me about this place.” Gearing grins, then pulls off the collar as he shrugs. “Said a family member of the group had been taken. Sugarbell’s father. I was heading this way anyway so thought I’d pop in and lend a hoof.”

He stands up and starts walking towards the door.

She stands up and calls after him, “What are we going to do now?”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at her and grins. “Well… If I were you, I’d loot this town for all it’s worth, there’s going to be a good store of weapons and ammo here at the least. Then I’d go home or wherever else that might be safe. Or, you could stay here and try and make a real community out of this scrap heap.” He points a wing at her. “But don’t get into raiding or slaving.” He gives her a wide grin as he says flatly, “Otherwise I might just pay a visit.” He turns towards the door and lets out a sigh. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a freezer to check on.”

“Freezer?” every one of the individuals looking at Gearing asks in unison.

Gearing waves a hoof as he opens the door to leave. “Yup. Like I said, I was just in the area. Job’s never done for a repairpony. Got a lot of things needing fixing in Equestria…” He waves with one wing over his shoulder without looking as he says, “Stay safe out there, everypony. Good luck.”

As soon as he’s outside he takes flight and zips straight up until he disappears into the night sky again. But, before he heads back to the stable, he pays his respects to the earth pony sniper. In a manner of speaking. As he takes everything of even minute value, strips the stallion down completely, adds it to his own pile, and then dumps his body down into the cesspit caused by repeated calls of nature. You can admire and recognize someone’s skill and tenacity, but still despise them with every fiber of your being.

He would love to have taken all of them with him to the stable. To give them a safe place. But, that’s just not feasible. He’d pushed his luck with the sixteen children. A group of adults this large? Including stallions? Not going to happen. He hopes they’ll be okay, but there’s little else he can do for them at the moment. Today freedom, tomorrow a real life?

One can only hope.

He zips back towards the stable, using the cover of darkness, and lands a distance away from the service station. After checking his EFS, and making sure nothing and noone followed him, he proceeds back into the service station.

As he’s walking up to the control for the Stable 68 front door a speaker overhead chirps on.

“Where the hell have you been?” Nettlekiss’s voice asks. “I’ve been having to listen to Sable fret and worry and complain about how you came back and left without even saying anything.” There’s a pause before she asks, “Why are you all bloody?”

Gearing looks at his right foreleg and chest and sighs. He sits down and shrugs as he grins widely at her. “I met some new ponies. Some of them good ponies. Some of them not… The bad ones I had a bit of a disagreement with.”

“What kind of disagreement? About what?” she asks with edging concern.

Gearing looks at one of the cameras and gives a crooked grin. “Well they thought selling and gang raping ponies was a good way to live.” His grin gets wider. “I had a very strong dissenting opinion on the matter.” He closes his eyes and sits up primly as he puts a hoof to his chest. “I’m a very good negotiator, as you know… I bought their freedom for the amazingly low price of about twenty rounds of ammunition and an understandable need for a bath…” He looks at his bulging saddlebags then grins wider. “Also got some weapons and food in bargain too!”

“Alright you stupid stallion. Quite bragging. What, you want someone to pat your head and call you a good pony?” Nettlekiss asks with a snicker.

Gearing points his hoof into the stable. “I’d settle for a bath… really… I got that one guy’s brain matter in places-“

The automated message starts playing as Nettlekiss has decided she really doesn’t want any further details.

Gearing grins and blows a kiss at the camera as he giggles. “Thanks, Nettlekiss!” As the door slides open his grin turns crooked as he asks, “Couldn’t even warn a clockwork, could you?”

A message pops up on his pipbuck from Nettlekiss. [Nope, where’s the fun in that?]

Gearing walks towards the door and waves a wing as he enters. But it does nothing to remove the scathing scowl being stared at him by Sable. She stands her ground, not moving, from the end of the entry planks. And, worst of all, not saying anything.

At least until he gets within a few paces of her.

“Where have you been? I was worried! Subject Swift said you were going to check on something and would be right back, but you’ve been gone most of the night. Why did you not say anything to me when you came back and relinquished the swine corpses? Do you not enjoy my company, Gearing? Have I offended you somehow? Do you not wish to be with me any long-“ Sable asks in rapid fire succession and only goes silent when he grabs her face with his wings and gives her a deep-tongued kiss.

She trots happily in place as she starts moving forward to escalate their interaction, but Gearing uses a hoof on her chest to keep her back as he breaks their lip lock just enough to say, “I need a shower, bad, and to offload my finds.” He gives her a crooked grin as he tilts his head. “And then I’ll show you just how silly you’re being if you think I’ve suddenly stopped loving you.”

She looks off to the side and says softly, “I thought you had become angry with me because of our teasing when you left…”

He rolls his eyes and starts walking by her, keeping hard eye contact as he does, then quickly leaning over, stretching out his neck, and planting a soft kiss on her flank. A smile explodes across her face and he nods towards the inside of the stable. “Coming with me or going to make me go clean up all on my lonesome?”

She trots in place happily again then follows behind and providing his flank escort the entire way to the R&D department. He sets everything down once inside of R&D, and stores the metal Mint-als tin in the R&D’s freezer, before heading back into the decontamination chamber with his combat armor still on. She quickly starts helping him remove his armor as the sequence starts.

As she’s removing the last piece of the combat armor from his body Gearing asks softly, “Did you really think I was mad at you, and no longer loved you?”

Sable pauses a moment as she’s turns to the side to set the piece down with the rest of it. She avoids eye contact for a few long seconds before dropping the piece of equipment and saying softly, “That is what I was concerned with. Yes.”

She turns to say something to him but, as her mouth is opened, her muzzle gets filled with a deep-tongued kiss as he steps up to her and begins caressing her sides and body with his wings. Gearing pauses with their muzzles still touching each other as he looks into her eyes and says softly, “That’s not going to happen, Sable.” He gives her a soft kiss and adds, “It’d take a lot more than that to make me stop loving you.”

She starts caressing him with her restraining cables as she asks, “What is it that would cause my darling Gearing to no longer love me? I will make sure I never make that mistake!”

Gearing nuzzles her neck and starts trailing kisses down her neck and shoulder. “A balefire blast couldn’t change my mind… If anything ever gets invented that might… I’ll let you know.” She lets out a soft whimpering moan and wraps her forelegs around his neck as she starts trailing kisses up and down his neck, face, and muzzle.

He pulls back a bit and grins at her with his eyes partially closed. “I suppose I need to make it up to you for the scare?”

She shakes her head lightly and smiles. “That will not be necessary. I know my darling Gearing loves me now. That is all that is important.”

Gearing grins widely and asks, “Oh? So you don’t want me to spend the rest of the night apologizing with…” He leans in, licks her neck up to her ear, and gives it a slight bite before he whispers something audible only to Sable into her ear.

Sable’s eyes go wide as her jaw drops and she blurts out, "It has now become necessary!”

Footnote: Internal component 01 not responding. . .

Internal component 02 not responding. . .

Internal component 03 not responding. . .

Author's Note

This chapter is on the cusp of the areas that were causing problems for me timeline wise. However, progress, like time, marches on. This chapter has a couple of Gearing's first major interactions with others in the Equestrian wasteland. There's also a few things getting hinted at regarding his methods and personality. But, as usual, more will be revealed later.

-Quillsy

32 Greed & Stupidity

Early the next morning, with the sun’s light just breaking across the horizon through the perpetual cloud cover, Nahlah comes bursting through the door of the salvage shop onto the roof. She bounds around, looking at the sky wagon, then stoops down low to look at Gearing as he’s still tinkering on the undercarriage.

She waves at him with one paw and grins excitedly. “Gearing! Gearing! Holy crap! You gotta hear about this!”

“Yeah?” Gearing grumbles as he’s fighting with a piece. Gearing grunts then huffs as he crams the part into position, causing the entire skywagon to rock for a moment from the impact. “What’s got you so happy?”

Nahlah grins and rapidly taps her forepaws back and forth as she blurts out, “The whole town’s talking about it! Fixer really was here last night!” She turns her head and waves off towards the town’s front gate. “Apparently there was a raider attack, and he not only saved Pile Driver,” she brings her head back to look at him and raises an eyebrow as she asks, “You remember Pile Driver? That big hunky brown buck guardspony from yesterday?” Gearing stares at her for a moment from under the wagon then gives a slow nod, so she continues, “Well he got shot in the neck! And the other guards got pinned down. But apparently Fixer just rushed in, threw the two guards into town behind the cover of the wall, and then chased the raiders off!” She hops up and starts shadow boxing the air in front of herself. “But he didn’t just let them run! He tracked them down and was like pow, bam, pop!” She hops back and forth between her hind legs as she grins and pumps her forepaws in the air in excitement. “And he beat the ever living shit out of them!” She squats down to look at him as she grins. “Beat them into pony jelly and fed them to the radroaches!”

“Fed them to the radroaches, huh?” Gearing asks as he’s moving a cable restraint into place. “How’d they figure that out? One get away?”

She rapidly shakes her head and waves the idea off with a practical spit take. “Pffft…. Like he’d do something that stupid…” She wiggles her haunches back and forth as she rocks side to side. “A caravanner passed through the area, and found the massacre. And it was a massacre. They were worried some cannibal raiders had done it, and reported it to the town guards, but there was enough of one of their cutie marks to identify them as one of the raiders that had attacked the town before.” She shrugs. “And the rest just kind of fell into place.”

“And he, or she, or whatever, fed them to radroaches…?” Gearing asks without even looking.

Nahlah’s grin fades a bit as she tilts her head and thinks about it. She taps on her muzzle with a paw for a moment before she shrugs. “Well… maybe not… But the radroaches were busy cleaning up the mess when the caravanner came through.”

“Ah,” Gearing says disinterestedly. “Makes more sense that way. Don’t know why anypony would want to travel around carrying those gods awful things.”

“Awwww don’t worry… I’ll protect you from the mean ole lil bugs,” Nahlah teases with a twinkle in her eye.

Gearing rolls his eyes and scoots over more to the side to shove a few more pieces into their respective harnesses and restraints as he mutters, “Yeah. Gee. Thanks.”

Nahlah giggles and swishes her tail. “Although… I gotta say… looks like you’ve pretty much got it back together… So in terms of which is more amazing… you or Fixer…” She lifts her forepaws, pads up, as she starts raising and lowering them alternatively as she weighs the decision. “That’s pretty damn close, Gearing.” She grins at him wide enough that her eyes practically close. “But… if you actually got it running in a single night… yeah… you’d have won… Sorry, pal.”

“Oh, really?” Gearing asks as he climbs out from under the skywagon.

Nahlah sits up and gives a prim nod. “Absolutely.”

Gearing slides around to the harness, that’s been modified with a quick release, and clips himself in. He stares at Nahlah with a frown for a moment before kicking with his back leg, and activating the skywagon. He starts hovering, taking the wagon with himself, as he asks, “You were saying?”

Nahlah’s eyes jump to their widest as her jaw drops. She throws both forepaws out at the skywagon as she asks in disbelief, “You’re kidding!? You just got it done?!”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “I got it running a while ago, just adding a few extra bits now.”

“No way!’ Nahlah replies as she jumps over and starts walking under the wagon, looking for something else holding it up. She pauses and raises an eyebrow as she says with a tone of accusation, “Waaaait a minuuuuute… There’s wires hanging down here still!”

Gearing nickers then says flatly, “It’s functional… I’m just replacing the cable restraints and adding a few modifications so they don’t cause a short again.”

“Uh huh…” Nahlah says as she walks back out from under the skywagon and Gearing comes back down, putting it back onto its makeshift raised platform before turning it off. She looks him in the eye for a moment then puts a paw to her muzzle as she giggles. “Soooomeponiiiieees jealooooous.” Gearing narrows his eyes at her and she puts both paws on her abdomen as she giggles. “That’s amazing! Don’t worry.” She waves at him dismissively. “This is sufficiently impressive for you to get the point for last night…” She grins widely and points at him. “But Fixer’s still in the lead!” She giggles, turns around, and starts leaving as she says over her shoulder, “I’m going to go let Swift and them know you actually did it! We can take off today!”

Gearing waves it away with a hoof as he pops out of the harness and slides back under the skywagon to resume snapping the last few cables and restrains into place.

Sable drops her head down to look at him under the wagon. She looks at the door to the lower level and smirks as she brings her gaze back to Gearing’s. “I’m gonna tell her…”

Gearing grins at her and shakes his head. “Don’t you dare, it’s funnier this way.”

“But if she thinks each individual act is sufficiently impressive, imagine the look on her face when she finds out you did both in one night,” she says with a grin.

Gearing reaches out with a wing, and slaps her on her flank. “It’s no surprise to you, because you know about my endurance… But it’s going to be hilarious when she finds out.” He grins widely. “Might even break her brain!”

She stoops down and gets closer to his face as he maneuvers around to poke his head out near her. “You have a strange sense of humor sometimes, my darling Gearing…”

Gearing stretches his neck up and gives her a soft kiss before he gives her a wink. “Yeah, but you love me anyway…”

She partially narrows her eyes and says softly, “Mmmhmm,” before digging into the kiss more and more. She brings out a pair of restraining cables and holds his muzzle just right so she can tilt her own for the perfect tongue dueling angle.

A loud metallic pop causes her eyes to open wide. She zips her eyes around, then notices, and feels, the smile on his muzzle. “My love… are you really working on the skywagon while kissing me?” she murmurs with her lips still exploring his.

Another loud pop answers before Gearing can.

He simply grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe…”

She pulls back a bit and purses her lips to the side as she asks, “How long until you’re done?”

Gearing rolls his eyes around as he thinks it over for a moment and continues to move his hooves and wings under the skywagon. “About one more…”

“One more cable harness support?” Sable asks with a tilt of her head.

Gearing shakes his head and grins. “Nah… One more… kiss.” He narrows his eyes and leans up, which she kindly obliges to. She ignores the metallic pop that rings out a moment after beginning kissing.

And does the same for the next pop that rattles the wagon a few moments later.

But the third, and apparently final, metallic pop causes them both to stop. And snicker. Then devolve into a pair of giggling idiots there by the wagon.

She gently runs a hoof along his jaw as he’s climbing out from under the skywagon, and says with a smirk, “You are a crazy one, my darling Gearing.”

Gearing leans towards her, resting his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes as he grins. “I’m crazy, but I’m not stupid.”

“Of course not.” She leans around and kisses him on the cheek. “My darling Gearing makes many good decisions.”

Gearing smirks and looks at her sideways. “And… you’re one of them?”

She grins widely at him and shimmies her shoulders. “Well, if you insist…” She looks over at the wagon for a moment before asking softly and looking at him sideways with her head tilted, “Take a mare for a ride?”

Gearing shakes his head and chuckles. “If you mean a flight, sure. Hop in.” He gives her a wink and waves with a wing dismissively. “We don’t have time for any other kind of ‘riding’ right now, sorry.”

She’d started to climb into the back of the skywagon, then stops and stares at him a moment as she purses her lips to the side. “My darling Gearing is teasing me again, is he not?”

He looks around side to side in an intentionally shifty manner as he grins. “Maaaaybe.” Then chuckles and hops over to click into the harness as she shakes her head and giggles as she climbs in the rest of the way. He looks over his shoulder at her and asks, “Ready, Sable?”

Sable grins and zips a restraining cable out, and snaps it against his flank. “Yup! Giddyup!”

He snaps to attention then yells as he starts lifting off, “Hey! I will not be objectified in this manner! There’s a brain attached to these wings!”

“Well, then, in what manner would you like to be objectified?,” Sable’s voice replies with a giggle.

Gearing slowly turns his head until he locks eyes with Sable, who’s still in the middle of a giggle fit from feeling clever. “I’m gonna have to have a talk with Nahlah about what she’s been teaching you…”

“Whatever do you mean, my Gearing?” Sable asks with a grin.

“Mmmhmm,” Gearing replies, then gets a mischievous grin across his muzzle. “You’re in my space now… Hold onto your butt, I’m going to put the wagon through its paces.” She nods and he looks forward after seeing her cables come out and start grabbing hold of the skywagon’s frame. His eyes go wide, and his ears start whistling, as he yells out, “I said your butt, not mine!”

“But, you are my Gearing… so it is my Gearing’s butt… it needs to be held as well.”

He rolls his eyes then scowls as he pulls back a bit in preparation for a sudden quick take off. “Oooohhh you’re gonna get it later.”

“Promises, promisAAAGGGGGHHHSSS,” she screams as he takes off with enough of a sudden jerk that she actually slides back a bit in the wagon.

Gearing zips up with the skywagon, then comes down towards the town in an ever tightening circle after beginning by buzzing the walls around it. He zips down, and flies over the ponies walking through the streets minding their own business, who look up and gawk at the irregular sight. A few even having to cover their eyes from the dust and wind that gets kicked up as he buzzes over them. He flies down the lanes, laughing, as he takes a few sudden sharp turns and manages a particularly tight turn.

“Gearing! Gearing!” Sable yells as all of her cables point out in every direction and hold onto the wagon tightly to try and stay in the same position. “Is this skywagon rated for such maneuvers?!”

Gearing laughs more and kicks with glee as he yells back, “Let’s find out!”

“Let’s not!” comes her quick reply.

Gearing rotates, taking the wagon sideways, before making a sharp turn around a corner down one of the narrower lanes. As he’s coming out the other side, into a wider lane, he yells out, “One more!” Then heads down the lane they’d come into. A few buildings later he sees another break in the buildings and turns into it.

However, this one wasn’t so much a lane as it’s a small ally or strip of open land with a building set farther back from the main road than the rest of them.

“Oh shit!” Gearing yells as his eyes bug out.

“Up front! Go up! Up! Up! UP!” Sable screams.

Gearing had little time to react, as the building was almost upon him once he’d made the turn. So Gearing did the only thing he could in the situation that didn’t involve him crashing into a steel building at full speed face first.

He went up. Straight up. At an angle so sharp it was practically attempting to loop back to where he was coming from. But, he’s hauling a skywagon, so that maneuver was impossible at the moment. He did, however, manage to get the wagon’s nose up enough, and yank upwards, to whip it around, then snapping forward to tilt the back of the wagon up and out of the way sufficiently to clear the top of the building. However the maneuver caused the back of the wagon to fishtail and buck in mid air. Rattling Sable around in the back as she stared wide eyed and held on in the wagon for dear life.

Gearing, figuring he’d had enough fun for the time being, zips over to the tournament crater, and lands right in the middle of it. As he’s walking around to the side, after disconnecting himself, he looks into the back of the wagon and asks, “You okay in there, Sable?”

Sable climbs up from the bottom, looking like she’d stuck her tongue in a light socket with her tail and mane frazzled out. She stares at him for a moment before she says, “This chassis was not designed for flight. I do not believe it would handle impacting the ground from such heights very well.” She stands up the rest of the way and grins as she shimmies her shoulders. “But I found the experience… exciting!” She waves with a forehoof. “I really enjoyed the view as well.”

Gearing nods as he looks around the area, and at a few of the townsponies that are looking at the pair. “Yeah, Equestria looks different from up there, doesn’t it?”

“Oh… That…” She shrugs. “I suppose that is true as well, my love.”

Nahlah comes running at a full pace down the lane, before bounding through the air, over the ring fence, and coming to a claw assisted sliding stop to, and by, Gearing. “Gearing! That was amazing! I know you said you got it to work, but seeing it hover and seeing you zip around like that were two different things!” She hops up onto her hind legs and bounces back and forth between them as she clasps her paws together in front of herself. “Come on, I want a ride! Take me up with you! I’ve never flown before! That looked fun!”

Sable looks at her then narrows her eyes as she looks at Gearing. “It may be necessary to put in some form of restraining equipment, if you are planning on pulling such maneuvers with less capable individuals.”

Swift and Handy walk up from the same direction Nahlah had ran from as they look at the skywagon over the crater’s railing. Swift waves a hoof at it and asks with disbelief in her voice, “What’d you do?! Stay up all night working on it?”

Handy puts his forehooves over the railing and looks it over as he shrugs. “Probably wasn’t as bad as we thought it was, if he got it done that quick.”

Swift rolls her eyes then shakes her head before looking at Gearing again. “You realize I was just teasing, right? I didn’t expect you to spend every second on it.”

Gearing sits down and shrugs. “Like you said, you’re on a time crunch, and I’d really like to get to Megamart as quick as possible.”

Swift taps on her muzzle for a moment as she thinks it over. “Well, if it’s fixed and ready to go, I’m pretty sure we can go at any time.”

Gearing motions towards her and smirks. “If you can secure a few more spark batteries, sure.” He gives her a wink and says in a teasing elongated tone, “Ms. Iroooon Hooooooof.”

Handy lets out a snort and looks around as he grumbles. “Yeah. Well. Let’s get out of here. The sooner the better I say.”

Swift snickers, then leans over and gives Handy a lick on his cheek, causing him to jump. “Go get Gauge, I’ll get the spark batteries, and we can get going in a few moments.”

Handy scowls for a moment, and then lets out a sigh and nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He turns and starts heading back the way they’d come as his head pivots side to side and takes in the environment while looking for their wayward companion.

Nahlah stretches up and puts her paws around her muzzle like a cone as she yells, “Just follow the smell! You can’t miss him!”

Swift snickers then gives a snort with her nose scrunched as she nods in agreement. She heads off towards a nearby building as she mutters, “Ain’t that the truth.” She calls out a bit louder, “I’ll be back, I’m going to go see about some spark batteries.”

Gearing uses the opportunity to fly back, solo and without the wagon, to the salvage store’s rooftop. Leaving Sable to watch over their transport, while Nahlah bounces around, and inside of, the wagon excitedly. It doesn’t take him long to fetch his various bags he’d left up on the roof. And by the time Gearing is stowing the last of his luggage in the back of the skywagon, Swift’s already walking up carrying a small cloth bag.

Swift sets the bag inside the wagon towards the front as she says, “This should be more than enough for a round trip.” She looks around and asks, “Handy not back yet?”

Nahlah waves it off as she chuckles. “Probably made the mistake of walking downwind of Gauge and passed out from the stench.”

Swift looks around then locks eyes with Gearing for a few moments. “Think I should go look for them?”

Gearing shrugs. “Up to you, but then they might come back while you’re out looking for them. Then we’d all just be waiting on you.” He shrugs again and shakes his head. “Sometimes the best course of action is taking no action…”

A moment later, and while Swift is still contemplating what to do, a set of rapidly approaching hoofbeats draws all of their attention. They all look over and see Gauge, running as fast as he can in their direction. He jumps, sailing over the railing rather gracefully, before landing and taking a couple more bounding jumps in their direction.

“Hide me, mmkay!” Gauge half yells half whimpers as he continues running, right into the wagon, and curls up into a corner behind Gearing’s supplies.

They all look back and forth, completely confused, between Gauge and where he’d come from.

Nahlah cracks a grin and asks, “What, you fart in one of the guard’s faces?”

“Not funny, mmkay?!” Gauge belts back before cowering in the wagon again.

A few moments later, Handy comes trotting up with a smirk on his face. He throws his forelegs over the railing and asks, “Gauge here?” They all nod. Causing him to start laughing as he backs up and then jumps the railing.

Swift slaps a hoof over her eyes and asks with annoyance dripping from her voice, “What’d he do this time…?”

“Fart in a guard’s face?” Nahlah offers.

Handy shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Then what?” Swift asks.

“He farted in two guard’s faces… at the same time.” He sits down and starts chuckling as he waves a hoof at the wagon. “I tell ya… that took some skill.” He nods hard. “Even more so to convince them not to string him up by his tail and use him as a pinata for it.”

A group of ponies come out of Crater Side carrying a variety of traveling bags. The chatter and size of the group isn’t anything noteworthy, especially given the ruckus that Gearing saw the night before. The packs they’re carrying likewise aren’t anything to draw attention to them.

The number of weapons between them? That’s a different story.

Gearing’s eyes jump to them as he starts going from pony to pony and sizing up the weapons they are carrying, at least the visible ones, and doing some quick mental math on how much he thinks they might be hiding judging on that. He walks around, stepping slowly closer to the railing, as he sees them turn their heads and stare at the group. One of the mares of the group starts running in their direction, and Gearing makes a sharp turn as he moves to intercept, and stay in between the unknown earth pony mare and Nahlah.

Just in case.

The mare hops up and puts a foreleg over the railing as she has a massive grin on her muzzle and waves with the other hoof high in the air. “Howdy y’all!” She points over at the skywagon and asks, “That your cart?”

Handy looks her over, and then at the approaching crowd behind her, as he says, “Yeah. Why?”

The olive mare takes off her hat and brushes her rust red mane back as she asks, “Well… shoot… Is she for hire?”

Handy looks her over for a moment, and then at the half dozen ponies behind her as he says with a wave of his hoof. “Maybe, what’d you have in mind?”

The olive mare crams her hat back on and grins. “Oh, me and mah friends need a lift up to Hoofington. Gotta score with our names on it just waitin’! Ow!” She looks to the side and scowls at the smaller orange mare next to her. “What didja do that fer?!”

Handy frowns and rubs a hoof through his mane. “We’re heading that way… but Hoofington’s pretty far out there.”

The olive mare turns back towards him and nods hard. “Oh dontcha worry none! We’ll pay! We need to get up there before someone beats us to it!” She flinches again and shoots a look at the orange mare next to her. “Wouldja quitit with that kickn’, sis?! I’ma tryn’ ta have a conversation here!”

Gearing walks closer to them, eyeing them suspiciously before saying, “I’m not a taxi service.”

Handy looks over at him and scowls. “It’s not your skywagon, Gearing!”

Gearing looks over at him and narrows his eyes. “Really Earth Pony? Who’s going to fly it? You? Go for it; let’s see you grow a pair.” He sits down and folds his forelegs in front of his chest as he stares at Handy. “Well… come on… get to sprouting.”

Handy’s eyes go wide and he looks around quickly then slowly starts looking over at Swift with a crooked smile. “Well...”

Gearing nods. “That’s damn right. I’m flying the bird, and the captain has the final say or the bird sits.”

Handy scowls at him and points a hoof at Swift. “You’re not the only flier!”

Gearing narrows his eyes and says with a hiss, “But I’m the only one that could get the thing working… and if you’re taking her, then you’re paying me for the work I’ve done, or I’ll just repo it all.”

Handy waves a hoof at Gearing. “What the hell?! We let you stay in our stable, and you’re going to treat us like this?!”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “You didn’t let me do shit. It’s not your stable. It’s Nettlekiss’s. And I’ve been working my ass off to get it back up to snuff. I’ve been earning my keep. Even doing more than asked.” He points a hoof at the skywagon. “And we ain’t in the stable. One thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other. I’m not one of your protectaponies to be ordered around and I’m damn sure not your slave. You want me to work, I expect fair compensation.” He waves a hoof at Handy dismissively as he says, while not even looking at him, “Or you can just go sit on Celestia’s horn and spin.”

Swift spins around and waves her forehooves. “Everypony just calm the fuck down!” She looks over at Handy. “Handy, he’s right. He did the work, and what the owner said was whoever got it off his building got to keep it, so it’s his skywagon. You should be grateful he’s willing to put in the wing work to get us where we need to go!”

She turns and looks at Gearing and points a hoof at him. “And you! Stop being such an egotistical asshole! You could be more diplomatic about things instead of intentionally trying to rile him up!”

Gearing frowns then points over to the crowd on the other side of the fence. “Questionable capacity aside… You saying you really think taking a half-dozen sized group of heavily armed ponies, that we don’t know, to a location we weren’t planning to go, for no other reason than a promise of a few caps, is a good fucking idea? Seriously?! For all you know they could just be wanting to get us up there so they can steal it from us.” He waves a hoof around. “Unless I’m seriously missing something… A functioning skywagon, is a bit of a rarity in Equestria these days…”

“His assessment appears accurate,” Sable chimes in as she walks up near Gearing.

The group at the fence start chattering and getting louder, drawing all of Swift’s group’s attentions. The bickering turns into a clamor until the olive mare yells, “Well they ain’t as it is. Ifn I tell’em, it might change their mind!”

The younger orange filly next to her ribs her again with an elbow. “And they might just fly off to get it for themselves!”

Gearing walks over to the fence and waves a hoof between all of them. “What the hell’s this all about?” He sits down and frowns. “Hoofington was a long, potentially dangerous, trip during the war. It’s even worse now, or so I’m told to believe.” He glances over at Handy and Swift for a moment before turning back to look the group over. “So whatever has your attention, you must think it’s worth it.” He looks them over as they look at each other and exchange motions and glances with each other, but offer no information to Gearing.

Gearing folds his forelegs in front of his chest as he glares at them. “Here, I’ll make it simple for you.” They all turn to look at him and, after he’s earned their full attention he says, “I’m no stranger to flying into a combat zone. But it always sucks. And I’m not going somewhere without knowing exactly where and why… so.” He closes his eyes and waves a hoof. “Either you tell me exactly what’s going on, or you might as well start hoofing it now.” He points at the Olive mare. “Because, until you give a damn compelling answer, and convince me otherwise, the answer’s a solid ‘no’.”

The olive mare turns to look at the others and flicks a hoof out towards Gearing. “See, y’all… We might as well, cuz we’re not gettn’ any closer now, and only stand ta gain.”

The orange filly looks off to the side and purses her lips to the side of her muzzle as she practically pouts, “They might take it and make us walk anyway.”

The olive mare ribs the orange one. “Not likely we’re gon’ make it ‘fore someone else does anyway.”

The orange filly lets out a sigh and hangs her head, before she limply waves towards Gearing and gives up arguing anymore.

The olive mare gives a snort at her then turns towards Gearing. “You been listen’ to the radio?”

“Not really, why?” Gearing asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Swift and Handy likewise shrug.

The olive mare takes off her hat and lays it across the railing as she grins. “Well, it’s all over the radio. See… up in Hoofington there’s this pony with a big ole price on’er head.”

Gearing tilts his head and asks with a smirk. “A bounty?”

She nods and one of the bucks behind her steps around and adds, “Biggest bounty there ever was… on anypony.”

Gearing rubs on his muzzle a bit as he thinks it over. He’d had passing thoughts on it, but didn’t really think he’d be able to fund himself that way. He chuckles and thanks his old friend for the economic advice. “How much is it?”

“Hundred thousand caps give or take,” chimes another mare from the group but not really visible.

Gearing stares ahead blank faced, but a gasp from behind him causes him to turn back and look at Nahlah. Her hair’s practically standing on end with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open limply. Gearing stares at her for a moment and asks, “I take it that’s a lot?” Nahlah nods slowly. “Yeah, sounded like a lot.”

The orange filly asks with her eyes narrowed. “Stable pony?”

Gearing grins at her and shrugs.

A couple of the group let out sighs of exasperation, and some combination of facehoofing and muttering, “Stable ponies don’t know nothin’.”

The orange filly grins and nods as she speaks slowly, as if talking to a foal, “Yeeeees… One hundred thousand is a big number… Lots of caps… Big money… Buy everyyyyyythiiiiing… That’s good… Riiiiiight?”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before rolling his eyes and looking at the olive mare. “What all do you know about this mark?” She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow and he quickly shakes his head. “The bounty. The pony with the price on their head? What do you know about it?”

They look among each other for a few moments and start muttering as they start offering out random information.

“Unicorn mare…

“Hundred thousand bounty… more if alive…”

“Hoofington area…”

“Last seen around Megamart…”

“That’s it?” Gearing asks with an unimpressed huff. “Not why? No reasons?”

“Think she stole something?” The orange mare says as she rubs on her chin with a hoof and thinks about it. “They wanted her PipBuck…”

Gearing looks down at her and smirks. “PipBuck?” He lifts his left foreleg and shows off his own.

They nod and the Olive mare partially closes an eye as she asks, “Yeah… what ‘bout it?”

Gearing looks at her and frowns. “None of this seems odd to you?” They all look at him like they aren’t following, so he continues, “An unheard of high bounty… with practically nonexistent reasons given for it? Yeah this has shady written all over it.” They all keep staring at him blank faced.

He rolls his eyes and asks as he passes his eyes over all of them, “Let me guess… you heard the massive number, and started having delusions of grandeur about what you were going to do with all that money, and didn’t put a lot of thought into the whys, hows, and shoulds?” They look at each other and frown as he seems to have hit the nail on the head but all of them are too prideful to admit it.

He taps on the fence in front of himself and looks them over. “Okay, time for Uncle Gearing to spread some knowledge. All of you line up here for a minute so you can see me and I can make sure you’re actually listening.” They snort in annoyance but actually comply.

He goes from one to the other, down the line, until he’s caught eye contact with each of the seven of them. “I’m telling you, without a shadow of a doubt, this is a death trap.”

“We can handle ourselves!” a buck on the far right objects.

“We can take’r’!” the orange filly says with a scowl.

“What’s some stable pony know?” a buck on the left says with a snort as he directs his gaze elsewhere.

Gearing looks over at him and says flatly, “I know, and can tell you, exactly how bounties are calculated and figured out.” This actually earns at least some token attention from the buck who looks Gearing over from the corner of his eye.

Gearing looks back and forth and starts tapping on the railing with a wing as he counts out. “There’s basic guidelines for choosing bounties. Typically they are based on: how long the fugitive has been causing problems, the frequency that they do what they do, the severity of the crimes, and, most importantly, how dangerous the individual is.”

He waves a wing in front of them as he says, “Which means the worse the pony, the higher the bounty… makes sense… right?” They all nod in agreement so Gearing continues as he raises a wingtip, “Which means the inverse is also true.”

The orange filly shakes her head and asks, “What’s that mean?”

Gearing looks at her and sighs. “It means an outrageously high bounty would typically mean the individual is outrageously dangerous.” He shrugs. “It’s the kind of thing that the police would actually be told not to interfere with and at least one of the ministries would get involved and take over the case.”

The orange filly grins and points at him as she cleverly highlights an apparent loophole. “You said ‘typically’ though! Which means there’s a chance that’s not the case!”

Gearing looks at her and frowns. “Yeah, and those cases would be even worse on whoever was stupid enough to try it.” That wiped the grin off her face, and, as he continues, it turns into a frown. “Look. If she just seemed to pop out of nowhere, and suddenly got this massive bounty on her head, there’s really, and I mean really, only a couple scenarios that could cause it, and none of it will end well for amateur bounty hunters.”

One of the bucks lets out a snort. “Pfft… I’ve taken down a few raiders, a bounty is a bounty.”

Gearing points at him with a wingtip while looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “And that attitude is why you’re heading for an early grave.” He looks them all over and says, “If the bounty is that high… either: They are dangerous enough to warrant it… The individual who put out the bounty never intended on paying in the first place, and just wanted to trick somepony stupid enough to do their dirty work for them, and are going to skip out and disappear… Or, they actually intended on double crossing by killing you and not only keeping their caps, but getting the PipBuck or whatever else they were wanting as ‘proof’ of the kill.” He gives a shrug and waves it all away. “Regardless of outcome, it’ll turn out badly for the bounty hunters.”

The group mutters among themselves and the orange mare points at Gearing as she says over the others talking, “Awww he doesn’t know what he’s talking about… They have the money. She just made them mad enough.”

“Let’s say they do have the money, and do actually plan on paying it out, though I have extreme doubts…” Gearing says softly as he looks at her. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, this whole thing is on the up and up… okay?”

She nods but then the smile fades off her face as she looks in his eyes and she says softly, “Okay…”

“Do you really think you’re going to live long enough to enjoy the money?” They all stare at him wide eyed and he continues, “You manage to claim the bounty, the largest bounty ever put on anypony.” He points over to the buck and nods. “That’s what you said right?” The buck shrugs then nods. “Okay… well… the bounty alone is spreading like wildfire. You collect? And everypony is going to know you. That kind of information… A bounty hunter, or group, that took down and claimed a record setting bounty is going to become famous overnight.” They start grinning, and he claps his hooves in front of himself as he looks at them. “And just like that, every sleazy murderer, thief, con artist, or would be bounty hunter that you beat to it would be after you for the prize money.”

Their grin instantly falls off all of their faces as their eyes bug out.

“Didn’t think about that, did you? That everypony will be after you. That you would be spending the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and never knowing who to trust…” He closes his eyes and raises his hooves up in the air in a shrug as he shakes his head. “And you call me naive? Yesh…”

He lets out a sigh and looks them over. “Even if you win you lose…” He waves the whole thing away and says softly, “Any real professional worth his salt would look at the situation, and steer the hell away from it… because, best case scenario… Is it being a complete waste of time, quickly falling into torment and a horribly violent end beyond that.”

One of the bucks, a gray individual looking more like a young colt, wearing a green bandana tied around his neck, looks at the others, then back at Gearing and asks, “Sooo… you going to take us, or not?” A couple of the others, including both the olive and orange mares, look at him like he’s an idiot.

Gearing shakes his head. “Congratulations… you’ve convinced me…” The gray buck grins widely and his eyes go wide. But he practically deflates as Gearing continues, “To stay the hell away from there. Nope. Not doing it. Don’t care how much you offer me.” He gets up and starts walking back to the skywagon. “Not even if you offered me the entire bounty.”

The gray buck snorts. “So you going to fly up there and get it yourself now?”

Gearing turns around and rolls his eyes. “What did I just tell you? It’s suicide. I’m going to steer clear of the entire area if I can help it.” He waves it away. “I want no part of that shit.”

The gray buck nickers and looks at the others as he points a hoof at Gearing. “He’s lying… I knew we shouldn’t have told him anything…”

Gearing looks at him for a moment, then sits down and folds his forelegs. “Why the hell would I lie about it?”

The buck waves a hoof at him and rolls his eyes. “So we wouldn’t find out you’re screwing us, obviously.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment, then looks back and forth between the others. “Really? And why the hell would I give a shit if you knew?” They all turn to look at him and Gearing waves at the gray buck with one hoof limply. “You are nopony to me. I don’t know you. I don’t owe you a damn thing. And if I was going to go, there’s not a damn thing you could do to stop me.” He shrugs. “I would have already hightailed it out of here if that were the case, skywagon be damned.” He points at the gray buck with a hoof, and then slowly directs it to wave over the whole group. “I’m not kidding. This so called ‘bounty’ is going to get a lot of ponies killed… stay away from it.”

The buck snorts and waves a hoof at him. “Yeah, right. I bet your going to Megamart though!”

Gearing shrugs. “Eventually.”

The buck’s hoof slowly dips as he didn’t expect such a blunt answer.

Gearing gets up and starts back towards the skywagon. “I have a tournament to get to. And to do some shopping… Hopefully this whole ‘bounty’ nonsense is over by time I make it to Megamart.” He makes air quotations with his wingtips as he mutters, “Otherwise the whole area will probably be a war zone with trigger happy amateurs.”

The buck looks over at the olive mare and scowls. “He’s fucking us over here…”

Gearing looks over his shoulder at him and sighs. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m saving your lives… time will tell which of us were right.”

The olive mare rubs her mane after taking off her hat. “Well… what should we do now?”

Gearing shrugs and waves at her with a hoof. “There’s seven of you. Work together… If you were willing to travel that far together, with a high probability of death, in order to try and make a living… maybe you could do some good locally.” He gives them a wide grin. “I’ve heard from reliable sources that raider dens are great for filling the saddle bags… So if you’re looking for a scrap to make some money… why not help your fellow ponies out and make the area safer in the process?” He laughs and waves it away. “I’d normally suggest something like picking up a trade, do some farming, maybe even learn some medicine... but I doubt you’d listen to me about that either…”

The group of would be bounty hunters turn around and go back into Crater Side as they continue to mutter and talk among themselves.

Sable walks over and asks as she watches them dejectedly head inside. “My darling Gearing… is this a case of you being worried they wouldn’t be able to handle it, and wanting to take care of it yourself? Or were you really intending on leaving such a dangerous individual on the loose?”

Gearing sits down by the harness connectors for the Skywagon and shakes his head. “I wasn’t lying to them. The whole thing stinks of some kind of setup.” He looks at her and sees the concern. “But, if there really is some psycho running around that’s that dangerous… I’ll find them.”

Swift rolls her eyes. “So you really are going to take the bounty for yourself?”

Gearing looks at her and pulls his head back before practically spitting at her. “Heeellllll no! I’m trying to be less noticeable, not have every hoof, wing, and gun this side of Roam after me. Fuck that noise.” He waves it off and starts strapping in. “Assuming everything was right, I’d just make them disappear.”

Gauge pops out of the back and peeks over the lip at him as he asks softly, “How’d you do that, mmkay?”

Gearing shrugs as he doesn’t even look back at him, “Incineration, disintegration, vat of acid, or just the tried and true heavy weight and trip to the bottom of the ocean…” He looks up and sees the wide eyed stares pointed at him and he says softly, “What…? That way they’d be gone but no one could claim the bounty… save a lot of hassle.” He frowns as he looks off to the side and rubs his chin with a hoof as he mutters, “Though it begs the question, how anyone could afford such a thing in the first place…”

“Perhaps it is a collection of ponies that have put out the reward, and not an individual?” Sable offers.

Gearing frowns as he looks over at her. “A group of ponies with a lot of resources? That just makes it sound even worse…” He shakes his head. “Well, as much as I’d like to know more about what we’re flying into, let’s get going.” He looks over at Swift. “You got that nav point for me?”

Swift nods and taps out on her PipBuck. “Sure, here ya go. From what I was told, it’s in Freight Cars territory, but as far as gangs go, they’re one of the more decent variety. Not like raiders. They just have a protection and extortion racket going on, and very aggressively defend their territory.” She shrugs. “But they’re basically a gang of wannabes that hope to get into the Reapers eventually, so they do their best to stay on the Reapers good side and won’t start anything while they are there and while the Gauntlet is going on.”

Gearing looks up from his PipBuck as he’s plotting out a flight path to their destination. “Gauntlet? What’s that?”

“Basically their version of The Crater tourney,” Handy offers as he’s walking towards the skywagon.

Gearing nods and closes out his PipBuck as he says, “Okay, well, if we’re all ready to go, let’s get out of here.”

As they all start piling into the skywagon, Nahlah looks over at Gearing and asks, “Is this open top design really that safe?”

Gearing shrugs. “Safe enough. It’s not meant for combat maneuvers. Just to carry ponies and goods from point ‘A’ to ‘B’. If you’re irresponsible enough to do a loop-the-loop in it, yeah, things might fall out. But… you wouldn’t do that with a normal wagon either… sooo.”

Nahlah looks back and forth then shrugs and grins widely. “Well, you only live once, right?” She hops in then takes up position at the front with her forepaws looped over the leading edge of the wagon as she grins. “I’ve never flown before, but I’ll trust ya!”

Gearing grins at her. “Yeah, but you’re still digging your claws into the frame and I haven’t even taken off yet…”

Nahlah looks down at the fierce grip her paws are giving to the edge then back up at him with a shrug. “Can never be too prepared, you know.”

Gearing shakes his head and laughs as he takes off. “Alright everyone, off we go!”

They zip around in a growing circle as Gearing gains a bit of altitude with the wagon before turning off towards their first stop.

Thanks to whatever false preconceptions about the magics of pegasi flight, the trip apparently takes longer than expected. At least for a couple members of the party. In rather short order, the two earth ponies decide it’s better to not look out the windows at the ground below, and focus on other things. Namely talking about what they are going to do once they are back at the stable. And on the ground. Safely.

Swift is rather amused by it and spends her time with Handy, reassuring him that, in case of terminal failure, she can just carry him herself.

This doesn’t help Gauge’s mood at all as no one responds to his, “What about me?” question.

Nahlah and Sable, however, seem to maintain their respective level of enthusiasm the whole way. Sable looks around periodically, and down towards the ground, taking in the topography and generally trying to stay aware of their environment. Focusing on keeping a look out for potential threats. When she isn’t admiring their pilot, that is.

Nahlah partially leans forward, with her head out, and eyes closed, feeling the wind blow through her fur as they continue along their path. She taps excitedly on the front frame as she yells out, “Flying is amazing! I’m so jealous!”

Gearing smirks and looks back towards her as he nods. “Can’t say I disagree! Definitely has a few perks to it!” Then goes back to looking out where he’s going

Nahlah leans on the wagon and rocks her chin back and forth on the railing as she looks around and simply enjoys the experience. “The ability to just take off and go wherever you want, when you want… Yeah… That’s the life for me…” She turns her head and looks down as the ground seems to start getting even smaller and further away.

Handy runs up between Nahlah and Sable and yells at Gearing, “Hey! Are you taking us even higher?!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and waves a hoof dismissively. “Yeah, there’s an industrial complex coming up with some tall buildings. I don’t like the look of them. But, don’t worry, extra height isn’t going to make you spontaneously fall out.”

Handy leans out, over Nahlah, and looks around as he screams, “You’re going too high!”

Gearing frowns and dares a look back as he yells back, “It’ll be fine!”

Handy shakes his head and points up. “No! The lightning net! You go too high and it’ll fry us!”

Gearing looks around and up and manages a shrug. “I’ve been looking and I don’t see anything! They’d have to have some kind of focus, like a rod or something. It won’t just shoot out of the clouds!”

Handy starts pointing down repeatedly and forcefully. “Down! Take us down!”

Gearing shakes his head and points off towards the industrial complex they are coming up on. “If there’s anyone in those buildings they could shoot us down! I’d prefer not to get some flak shoved up my tail pipe!”

“Do it!” Handy screams as his face takes on a twitchy near manic look.

Gearing shakes his head. “The hell is wrong with you?! You that interested in getting shot up? We kinda stick out! You don’t fly closer to guns!”

“Can’t you two get along for five fucking minutes!?” Swift yells as she gets next to Handy, and Nahlah curls around and gets out of the way of the argument. “What’s the big deal?!”

Handy points up as he looks at her. “We’re getting too close to the cloud ceiling. They’re going to blast us out of the air!”

Gearing shakes his head and yells back, “No they aren’t! They would have already fired if that’s the case. If they even could. I’m not going any higher!”

“Let me the hell off then! If you’re going to commit suicide, fine, but you’re not taking me and my wife with you!” Handy screams as he waves a hoof at Gearing.

Gearing rubs his helmeted head in frustration. “You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Swift yells over, “Let’s just go ahead and head down, we’ll talk about it on ground level.”

Gearing looks back at her and starts adjusting to cut altitude as he screams back, “I never would have agreed to this shit if I knew he was going to be such an ass about it!” He starts curving and diving as he grumbles to himself. “Fucking leggers…”

As they are coming down, and before they even get to roof level, Sable yells out, “Contacts, Nine O’clock low! They’re firing!”

Gearing looks over and sees a variety of muzzle flashes, and starts zipping and cutting more altitude to avoid the incoming fire. He turns more as he screams, “This is why I don’t like hauling near the ground! There’s not as much room to maneuver! Fucking idiots!”

Gearing starts whipping around various crumbled buildings, and getting forced back towards the industrial complexes by practical walls of lead being slug up at them by various fully automatic weapons.

A line of holes zips through the middle of the wagon, bisecting it with nearly a dozen testaments to the bullets that tore through the entirely unarmored civilian skywagon.

Nahlah screams and rolls over as a couple rounds had hit her around her left haunch and side of the abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Gearing screams as he turns and maneuvers around one burst of automatic fire after another. Always being forced more towards the industrial complex, and meeting even more lead each time he tried to break away to the outskirts. Doing so simply provided them a bigger broadsided target to shoot at.

Swift pulls out a healing potion and beings feeding it to Nahlah as Handy screams out, “Whose dumbass idea was this anyway?!”

Gearing only glances back enough to shoot him a scowl and scream, “Yours!”

Gearing zips his eyes around and sees the ambush that they are trying to set up near one of the street ways they are trying to force him through. He curses and keeps looking around, and sees something that he thinks might just work. “Sable! Up front, weapons free! I’m going to need some of this debris out of the way!”

Sable turns from taking pot shots at various muzzle flashes they are passing to take position behind him at the front of the wagon. Gearing takes the wagon in a corkscrew trajectory, getting even lower and on the far left side of the street, before coming back up and over, curving around and zipping towards an area that has a broken and collapsed section of wall and roof.

One of the attackers had been in the gap, hugging a bare i-beam, and had a rather surprised look on her face as Gearing suddenly turned and dove right towards her. She wasn’t expecting it, and had her weapon pointed in a way to shoot at them as they were passing. She brings her weapon around, and starts shooting with the automatic before the barrel is even pointed in their direction. But the gun goes silent as she glows and gets reduced to a pile of fluttering pink and red ash.

Gearing dips down again, going through the gap between the i-beam the ambusher was using, and the top of the collapsed wall. But the gap is barely broad enough for the wagon to get through and a piece of steel juts out like a dragon’s claw and rips a gash down the entire length of the right side.

Inside is a giant warehouse that was used to manufacture some sort of mechanical equipment. Everywhere earth pony ingenuity is on full display with one gadget or another. But all of it is in disrepair and falling apart. Literally. Many pieces of chains, framework, and cables hang down from various points of contact along the entire length.

“I need that shit cleared or this trip is going to end pretty damn quick!” Gearing yells as he looks at the gauntlet in front of them fast approaching.

Pinpoint magical bursts shoot over his head, hitting and cutting various lines in the debris in front of them. The debris starts raining down to the ground leaving a mostly clear path for Gearing to get through. Even when there are cables that he ends up bashing into, they are thankfully not very long, with nothing on the end, and do little more than flog both him and the skywagon. But it still hurts as he lets out several grunts with a variety of the reverse swings.

Gearing points off near the end and screams. “Up high! That beam’s not going to let us through!”

Sable locks on and fires, hitting the riveted joining plates on one side, causing the support to collapse and the large beam to drop down. Gravity takes over and makes it swing down and away from their path as the remaining support plate acts as a hinge for it to pivot on.

Gearing lets out a whoop and waves a hoof in the air. “That’s my mare!” He zips around the remaining debris, and heads for the gap as quickly as he can before the rest falls on them.

However, the steel beam didn’t, as Sable intended, fall down the rest of the way after making a swing. Instead, the support plate proves it must have been of earth pony manufacture, as it stubbornly keeps its grip on both the upper supports and the large steel beam itself. As they are about to pass, the beam uses all of the momentum it gained from swinging away with the fall, and starts swinging back towards them and the gap.

Sable’s laser refocuses, and she starts firing at the support plate as she whips out her cables and prepares to push the beam out of the way. As she cuts through the connecting point the heavy support beam does start falling to the ground mid swing, but it’s still not going to be enough to stop the incoming collision

As Sables cables are bundling up to combine their strength and try to at least cushion the blow, Swift appears near the beam with a snap of her wings.

All four of Swifts hooves connect with the beam, as she quad bucks the top of it back and sideways away from the skywagon, she follows up with a cyclonic spin and delivers a full swung powerhoof strike to the side, sending sparks out and causing it to jerk more to the side.

Sable follows suit, swinging her combined cables like a baton, and following up Swift’s strikes with her own. Slowly the thing falls enough, by directing it to the side, to allow gravity to pull it harmlessly to the ground and out of a collision path.

Sable and Swift begin clearing the debris in front of the skywagon as Gearing makes for an opening on the far side of the manufacturing floor. With Sable cutting and burning things out of the way while Swift, unhindered by having to pull a skywagon, snaps around in front of Gearing and likewise bats away different obstacles.

As Gearing is approaching the large hole on the other side of the building, Swift hovers there for a moment and screams at him, “It’s clear! Go!”

And Gearing more than happily obliges.

But, as he’s exiting at full speed, he sees there’s not a whole lot of room to move, and has to make a rather sharp turn upwards to avoid hitting the next building. So he arcs up, just like he had done at Megamac.

However, he didn’t have a large group of maniacs hunting and shooting at him in Megamac.

As he’s cresting the lip of the next building, he catches sight of a trio of individuals. All three heavily armed with automatic weapons. One of which is sporting a minigun. He’s close enough to them, as he comes over the edge, that he can see the mad glint in their eyes. The twitchiness. The partial gloss to their eyes. He knows that look well enough and it fills him with dread.

They’re on a massive amount of drugs.

As they are coming over, and before the skywagon’s even completely come up, they open fire on the skywagon and Gearing. The skywagon starts getting shredded, and Gearing likewise catches many bullets along his entire length, as he seems to have earned the unrelenting attention of the minigun. As the wagon levels out some, one of the attacking mares turns into a sparkling pink ash pile. The buck with the minigun is so focused on Gearing, that he doesn’t notice the sky blue blur that comes up from the side and clocks him with a power hoof to the head that sends him skidding over and in front of the other mare firing at the sky wagon.

The last attacker has just enough time to look over at Swift, before Swift quad bucks her right off of the eight story building. Powerhoof included.

Gearing screams out, “Everypony out! Get out!”

Handy, favoring an injured left foreleg where a few rounds had tore through his armor, screams back, “Get to the ground first!”

Gearing sweeps his head from his left, around in front of himself, then looking at his right. Finally ending with himself looking back into the skywagon.

And time practically stops.

There are functions of PipBucks in general that Gearing is not a fan of. He has a strong distrust of the E.F.S. system, as it can be fooled and potentially lead one into a false sense of security. Not to mention its habit of cluttering up one’s eyesight. And the S.A.T.S., Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell, is its own monster. Limited range, thus being completely useless for when you want to reach out and touch somepony with a high caliber round from the safety of a tower a few blocks away. Let alone further. Melee is also problematic, as it has the nasty habit of locking you into the selections. Even if, say, somepony with a shotgun comes through the door while you are busy beating their friend into the floorboards. Would be a really nice idea to be able to stop and take care of the new threat. But, S.A.T.S. won’t let you cancel mid attack. So S.AT.S. is pretty much useless in his opinion. Pretty much, but not entirely. Especially with him using it in ways he’s pretty positive they never intended.

Like now.

Gearing is known as a quick thinker both professionally and in his personal life. It’s no surprise to anypony that he’s light on his hooves when it comes to rapid thought. What would be a surprise to most would be the knowledge that, he cheats.

Like now.

He’s not using the spell to target anypony in particular. He can’t see any of the hostiles at the moment. But, he knows they are there. What S.A.T.S. is giving him is something truly precious, and when it counts most. Time.

Time to figure out what needs to happen. Time to figure out what he should be doing. Unlike some preconceptions of the spell, it doesn’t truly freeze time. That could cause all kinds of problems. Instead it hyper activates the user’s own perceptions. Letting them think quicker. React faster. Plan things out. Make decisions.

And he’s got one hell of one to make at the moment.

His quick turn of his head before activating the spell was to make sure what was around. He knows the building is longer than it is wide. That despite it being somewhere between six and eight stories, there’s an even taller building across the road straight ahead. He has more than enough time to avoid the building. That’s not the problem.

The problem is: He needs everypony out of the wagon. And now. But with typical Handy fashion he doesn’t want to do anything he’s told. And wants to have a committee about everything, regardless of the reasoning or need for expediency. It doesn’t matter. If it’s not one of his ideas, he’s against it until it’s proven beyond a doubt to be the right course of action. With few exceptions.

With Gearing’s head turned to look at the skywagon, he can see the damage unleashed on it, and its occupants, quite spectacularly. The wagon’s shredded, and barely staying together. The one gash along the entire right side where that steel beam ripped into it like a can of cram is a real beaut. The general sieve appearance from the many bullets that have punctured and passed through it provides airflow where nopony asked for it. And all of the red from the variety of injuries sustained by the occupants has given the interior a new speckled paint job.

And Sable. Staring right at him as she seems to be trying to figure something out about him. She probably knows what he has done, but not why, and is probably trying to sort it out he guesses.

He mentally curses, Fucking Handy, we wouldn’t have gotten shot if we stayed in the air.

Stupidity is terminal and gets ponies killed, the little blue pegasus in his head says with a harrumph as it flops down and glares in Handy’s general direction.

Gearing’s focus takes in Sable’s form. Several bullets have impacted along her modified armor, and a few that had managed to pierce through have caused noticeable damage. Her right foreleg is heavily damaged as it’d taken hits from some of the higher caliber rounds being thrown at them.

Stupidity kills, the little blue pegasus snorts again.

Not my Sable, Gearing mentally challenges.

Not my Sable, the little blue pegasus agrees.

And S.A.T.S. cycles, bringing him back to reality and normal time while beginning its charging mode to prepare for the next time he needs it.

The moment the spell drops he locks eyes with Sable and screams, “Sable! Evaaacuuaaaaate!”

Sable spins around as she replies, “Confirmed!” and barrels towards the back of the wagon. As she reaches the back hatch, and throws the tailgate down, causing the supplies to begin pouring out, Gearing begins rotating his flight pattern as he flies straight ahead.

“Whoa! What?! You fucking bastard!” Handy screams as Gearing inverts the wagon, and dumps all of them, contents and all, along the roof as he continues down the length of the rooftop. He keeps picking up speed, not even looking back, as he flies as fast as he can for the other side of the building.

Supplies, bags, and luggage go scattering along the roof’s entire length, as Sable is the first to impact on the concrete roof surface. She had jumped, but her chassis isn’t entirely designed for this sort of maneuver, and her right foreleg is highly damaged. The foreleg collapsed under the pressure, buckling and causing her to fall down and start rolling and tumbling along the roof’s surface awkwardly as sparks shoot out in a variety of directions.

Gauge was the second one out, practically getting knocked out as Sable made good on her escape out of the back. He bounces and gets even more bloody as he ends up with a horrible case of road rash as he skids across the rooftop with Sable.

Nahlah was next out, but went sideways out of the wagon as Gearing began his inversion maneuver. She tumbled out and, despite having claws to help slow her down, slid all the way over to the edge, and fell off the left side of the building.

Swift had started catching up to the skywagon after dealing with the two shooters, and before she could say anything or grab Handy, who was still holding on to the front of the wagon, Nahlah skidded across the rooftop and over the edge while clawing for dear life. She quickly changed direction, zipping over the edge after Nahlah to try and catch her before she hits the jagged debris that’s filling up most of the alleyway on this side of the building eight stories down.

Handy stayed on the longest, by stubbornly holding on even as the wagon went entirely upside down. As it’s coming back up the other side, however, he loses his grip and likewise goes skidding and bouncing across the roof’s rough surface. At an angle away from the wagon. He tries kicking and grabbing at anything to slow his speed, but he too goes shooting off the roof at a practical forty-five degree angle on the side of the building opposite Nahlah. Slamming into the brick wall of the next building across the alleyway, and falling down a story to come to a painful greeting with the fire escape. As he’s rolling over and holding his road-rashed cheek he looks up at the sky and begins a tirade that starts with, “Fucking machines,” and quickly becomes unintelligible.

Gearing, not slowing down one iota, barrels ahead at full speed, while the others continue to skitter and fall along their own trajectories. While they are trying to slow down and come to a halt. He continues picking up speed. He reaches down for his quick release and begins fiddling with it.

But is still attached when he crashes through the large glass window that must have provided the meeting room it is part of an exquisite view back in its hay day. The wagon, likewise, takes full advantage of Gearing’s efforts, and inertia, to bury itself far into the meeting room with Gearing.

* * *

On the roof across from the office building, Gauge pulls himself up and looks around in a panic. He runs over to Sable and asks as he looks around. “You okay? You have guns, right, mmkay?”

Sable slowly picks herself up, but her legs have been knocked around and battered. Her right foreleg has completely folded and is completely useless in its current mangled and sparking form. She looks around and takes note of the barrel of the assault rifle on her battle saddle being bent awkwardly at her side. But the shotgun on the other side seems to have faired the fall better. She quickly pops out, and then returns, her shoulder laser before nodding. “I still have weaponry, Subject Gauge.” She looks around then watches as the skywagon plows head long into the building across the street. Burying itself so far into it that it’s barely visible from her current location.

Gauge’s eyes go wide as he looks at it sideways. He turns back to look at Sable and waves a hoof as he gives her a nervous grin. “I’m sure he’s okay, mmkay?”

A sound like a monstrous inhale greets their ears, and a moment later a massive explosion rocks out from the building across the street as the wagon explodes in spectacular fashion. The shockwave causes Gauge to fall over sideways and tumble a bit as the concussion wave hits him.

Sable lowers herself, but keeps her footing as the wave passes them over. She straightens up to take in the view of the building across the street. And instantly sits down hard onto her rear.

From the point of impact, in a rough circle, everything seems destroyed up and down a whole floor. The wagon, what’s left of it, sits on the next floor down in a barely recognizable twisted heap. Beyond that, nothing else is really recognizable, as the whole segment has been either blasted away or collapsed in on itself into a rather homogeneous looking debris.

Three floors worth of destruction with a single explosion.

As pieces of various, unidentifiably sourced, debris begins raining down on them, Sable whimpers out, “G- Gearing…?”

Footnote: Error detec-

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45 Song for the Road

As Gearing is hiding in the shrubbery and checking the horizon for any sign of hostile activity, or any activity at all for that matter, he hears a very loud voice behind him bellow out, but not hoarse and strained. Almost as if they had somehow managed to magnify their voice to carry over a long distance without losing quality.

“Aria! Come on over! It’s really Swift!” the filly squeals in delight.

Gearing turns his head to look behind him, letting his ears twitch around, as he tries to figure out how the hell that just happened. He hadn’t seen them carrying any megaphones, or anything similar, and there’s not a horn among them. Even staring right at the group with Swift, he doesn’t see any of them holding up any kind of device that would explain that burst of sound. He decides the trivial mystery can be solved later and turns back around to keep watch, but his head continues rotating to stare at his other side as something else catches his attention. He watches as yet another child wearing the same sort of cloak barrels straight for him. Or, more accurately, towards the bush he’s hiding inside of. He realizes they had to of been concealed an even further distance away and, in truth, they must have been doing an exceedingly good job of hiding to avoid being detected by him. He doesn’t pay her much mind, as he can tell the rapidly approaching filly’s eyes aren’t on him at all, but are focused on the middle of the road where Swift is currently on the ground nuzzling the other trio of this small group. Gearing stays low and still, continuing to stay in cover while keeping an eye out for trouble, fully expecting the filly to make some kind of running jump over him and the scraggly bush he’s hiding in.

That is not what happens.

Gearing gets a very close up view of the pale purple foal as they barrel, head long, into the bush and directly into his right haunch at full speed. The filly slams into him hard enough to make him shake a bit from the impact. He looks down at her as the filly’s tongue lolls out of her mouth. Their head wobbles around at the end of her neck as they try to get back up onto their hooves. She quickly fails her attempt to get going again, and sprawls out on the ground as she goes motionless.

“Oops,” Gearing says with a sheepish smile. Though no one can see it until he throws the cowl back and steps out of the vegetation. He hangs the rifle over his back, scoops up the young unconscious child with a foreleg, and trots over towards Swift and Handy.

As he’s getting close to the group the other kids jump off of, and hide behind, Swift, and then start pointing accusationally at Gearing as one cries out in dismay, “Swift, look out! Crazy protectapony’s got Aria! Help!”

Swift looks over and sighs as she asks with an equal amount of amusement and concern, “Gearing, what happened?”

Gearing trots over and gently sets the still stupefied foal onto the ground at her hooves. “I was lying down out there and the kid just barreled right into me. Smacked me pretty hard in the butt. Pretty much knocked themselves out. They’re lucky they didn’t break their neck.”

The pale green colt hiding behind Swift’s right hindleg scowls at Gearing and yells, “Nuh uh! She woulda saw you! How’d she miss you with how shiny your dumb face is!? You’re lying!”

Gearing sits down and grins at the outraged little colt. “Well, obviously, she didn’t miss me… That’s why she’s unconscious.”

The foal can’t argue with this child-like infallible logic, and simply scowls in return as Swift kneels down and starts checking the injured little one over.

Handy walks over and growls at him, “That’s not funny, Gearing. You could have killed her!”

Gearing rolls his eyes and points a hoof down at her. “Literally all I did was lay down and keep watch. She ran right into me with a full blown headbutt. I wasn’t expecting her to crash into me. The hell was I supposed to do?”

Handy waves his hooves around in frustration and disbelief. “Something!? Anything’s better than letting her crack her skull open on that metal chrome dome you call a hide!” He shakes a hoof at him. “You try and use that kind of excuse after you hurt one of my foals and you’ll regret it!”

Gearing puts his hooves up defensively. “Know what, I don’t need this shit. If there were bandits, or raiders, or whatever the hell they are calling themselves out here, I could have taken them out from my position. Makes a hell of a lot more sense then just strolling right up to them so you can get shot.”

“Well, we didn’t get shot.”

“You could have.”

“They weren’t hostile!”

“That’s why I didn’t fire!”

Handy waves a hoof at the filly lying on the ground as he repeats, “You could have killed her!

Gearing shakes his head. “You’re logic is fucked. She. Ran. Into. Me! I didn’t shoot her. I brought her over here so you guys could check on her as soon as it happened. I don’t know what the hell you’re expecting of me here!”

Handy waves his hooves around aimlessly. “How about to not hurt foals?! That’d be a start! She’s probably got a cracked skull, you’ve probably killed her!”

Gearing’s eyes go wide and he turns around. Accident or not. His fault or not. There is a modicum of truth in what Handy’s saying. Even though he’s sure she’s going to be fine with prompt treatment, it’s still something that bothers him. Being part of a foal getting injured. Even an unwilling party to it. Handy’s managed to repeatedly strum just the right chords to make Gearing feel even worse about it. He hangs his head as he decides there’s nothing constructive to be developed from him standing there at the moment. “I don’t need this shit…” he walks away and, after only trotting a few paces, he throws on the hood of his cloak and quickly takes flight. In short order he’s whipped around and disappeared into the surrounding derelicts.

Handy watches, waving his hooves in the air, then slowly lowers them as he stares in complete shock. He looks around where he’d last seen Gearing, almost expecting him to reemerge, as he wasn’t anticipating that response. He was expecting some satisfactory explanation on why Gearing would hurt a foal so badly. This just doesn’t make sense to him.

Swift stares at him and sighs as she hopes this separation will give them both a bit of time to think and cool off. She gently reaches over and pulls the unconscious filly to herself, continuing to check on her as the other foals standby closely while mourning their friend. Swift pulls out a healing potion, and pops the top on it as she lifts the unconscious form of the foal and rests the filly’s head against Swift’s own chest. She slowly pours the potion into the filly’s mouth, being careful only to let a little in at a time to make sure she actually drinks it and not accidentally literally inhale it.

The filly starts to stir, and blinks a few times as she starts waking up. And, as she’s looking up at Swift with clearer eyes, Swift pours the rest into her mouth and has her drink the remainder. Which she does, greedily.

Swift props her up so she’s sitting on her own rear and asks, “How are you feeling?”

Aria drops the bottle and holds the top of her head with both of her forehooves as tears form on the edge of her eyes. “My heaaad huuuurts… What’d I run into? It feels like a rock dropped on me… like a big rock! A whole mountain even!”

One of the other children reaches up and touches her head gently, and Aria recoils as more tears come out. “Owwwwiie! Ow ow ow wow, Don’t do that Andante! It’s sore!”

The colt tilts his head as he looks at her head. “Are you becoming a unicorn? Cuz that bump’s getting biiiiiiig!”

They sit and talk for a bit about how they had gotten there and why they were in the area. Along the course of the conversation they explain how they are trying to get the 2,000 caps that they owe to somepony named Charity in Chapel. Though they won’t say how they ended up getting that kind of debt and keep diverting by saying it’s not a problem and they can get it. Eventually, Swift offers to let them have a nice place to stay. But Handy’s still not sure if it’s really them, and doesn’t want them just walking into the stable. As they might be synths and this could just be another trick to get them and their children as he knows the Institute is just waiting for them to lower their guard. Though he only voices such concerns via direct message to Swift, and not verbally.

As they are still discussing the finer points of the stable, one of the fillies looks around and asks, “Where’d that metal pony go?”

Swift looks around and frowns. “I’m not sure. He’s probably out there just watching… Handy has a habit of blaming him for everything under the sun.” She shoots a look over at Handy who flinches at first then sheepishly looks around and away.

Handy, taking the cue, starts calling out, “Gearing! Hey! Gearing, come on back.” No discernible response. And Gearing doesn’t reappear. “Look, I’m sorry alright… could we just go already?”

Still no response nor reaction.

Sable is even ignoring Handy as she stands off with Nahlah and doesn’t even look in his direction. Which is entirely out of the realm of what Handy would have expected from her given he’d practically driven Gearing off with his accusations.

Handy sits down and starts grumbling as he folds his forehooves over his chest. He’s getting even more pissed that Gearing doesn’t come when he’s called. The reason for his deciding to stay out of verbal range is beside the point. He taps out a message on his PipBuck and awaits a response. After sending it off, he starts pacing back and forth.

They loiter there waiting for a few minutes as the children and Swift continue to catch up. Eventually Handy turns around to Swift and lets out a sigh. “He’s not responding to my message. He might be out of range already”

Swift frowns at him and starts tapping out a message on her own PipBuck. “How is it possible that you’re surprised about that? Considering how you treat him all the time?” She sends it off then shoots Handy a dagger-eyed stare. “He’s a good pony! He saved your sorry ass, didn’t he?”

Handy sits down and hangs his head a bit as he thinks things over. It’s true. Gearing did do that when he didn’t have to. But, still that doesn’t count. Not in Handy’s book. One thing doesn’t have to do with the other. In Handy’s mind, this is absurd. He’s getting in trouble with his wife because of something Gearing did. Gearing seems to have turned her against him somehow. He’s not sure how.

He can’t help his mind running from one thing to the next as he sits and thinks it over. They did spend an unreasonable amount of time together. Maybe during that time when they were in the basement he pulled something? Why else would they have run off to Megamac on their own? Together. Is it his adventurous side that’s winning her over? Handy looks over at Swift and narrows an eye a bit as he wonders if his wife has started cheating on him with some automaton with a penchant for running off.

One of the fillies walks over and looks up at Handy for a moment before she asks softly, “Why are you sad, Handy?”

Handy looks at the little filly and tries to figure out what he should say to the young one before him. Of the things he wants to say, of how Gearing is a complete asshole with disregard for authority, and actually thinking before he acts, would be lost on the foal.

Swift says softly as she holds two of the others to herself, “Handy and Gearing had a fight. And Gearing walked off. Handy’s just worried about his friend.”

Handy looks at her and thinks, like hell I’m worried about him. I’m only worried about the trouble that’ll come about from him deciding to traipse off and having to wait for him.

Swift’s PipBuck chimes with a response from Gearing. She smiles at it a bit and shakes her head before going back to cradling the children.

[I’m not far. Don’t worry.]

Handy snorts at the PipBuck wondering what kind of comment Gearing had sent her. It had to be Gearing, Handy’s sure. Who else would be talking to her out here? Those two can talk just fine, but he’s still ignoring Handy’s message. Even with the tag he sent on it to confirm delivery, it’s showing it as not even read. Handy starts stomping a forehoof into the ground ever more as he fumes over how unacceptable this is.

The children walk over and look at each other before they beam with an idea.

“You want us to find him?” Andante asks.

Swift smirks lightly. “Kids… if he doesn’t want to be found… you’re not going to. He knows how to stay out of sight and be quiet.”

The children grin and puff up with pride as they, all four, say in unison, “We don’t need to see him to find him.” The children look at each other and nod as one, line up side by side, and then they start filling their lungs with air by taking a deep breath. As they start bellowing out a long song, crystals show up on their chests and start to glow a crimson light that shines out of the small opening in their respective cloaks.

They sing a song of friendship. And how everything is fine and safe. They sing about how Gearing should come and play with them. Their individual voices unite and combine into a request for a new game. To end hide and seek. And how they are eagerly waiting for him so they can play.

They continue this harmonious sound, flooding the area of the local wastes as Swift and Handy stand there mystified by the performance.

Sable had come over with Nahlah to get an update on what to do, and ends up likewise standing there, watching the children sing, with a tilt of her head. Nahlah sits off to Sable’s side pretending she’s directing the musical by waving her paws back and forth with a typical overly massive grin on her face. The sound is sweet and impossible to ignore.

The song carries on far and wide around the source: the children. They sing for several minutes, facing the area that Gearing had disappeared into. And they sing. And sing. And sing. They start looking between each other with eyebrows raised as they try to figure out what is wrong. They look around, and one points a hoof behind them and off to the side. They continue singing, but the taller one nods out with her head, and then starts walking in that direction as they fan out and wave their forehooves slowly back and forth in front of themselves. They begin walking in a line, searching the area directly in front of them completely blindly. After a bit, the smaller one in the center stops with his hooves touching a bit of rubble and finds it not hard, but soft like cloth. He smiles widely, while maintaining the song and nodding in front of himself. The other children come over and surround the undefined shape, and slowly the youngest among them finds the flap of the cloth cloak. He starts pulling it sideways and back until the cloak hood slides off of Gearing’s head.

Gearing becomes completely noticeable in front of them as he’s partially lying on the pile of rubble with other debris actually covering him and helping to hide him practically in plain sight. Though, his own sight is questionable at the moment as he’s staring off blankly in front of himself with a chiseled flat expression that’s impossible to read. The children gently give him a hug from all four sides as they end the song. His eyes go from having a thousand yard stare, while simultaneously looking at apparently nothing, to blinking rapidly and jerking with a start as he’s brought out of the trance induced by the song.

He flinches at being touched and tries to pull away, but the children link hooves and give him one giant group hug, partially piling up on him, as they look up and smile at him. The smallest one reaches up and ruffles Gearing’s mane as he says, “Friends fight sometimes. It’s okay. But it’s not safe to be out on your own. You should make up and be friends again.”

Gearing blinks rapidly and tries to put together the last several minutes of his life. Worryingly, he finds large parts of it are fuzzy. Hard to grasp. Like the memory is slipping through his hooves as easily as water. He’d gone off with the cloak, circled around, then laid out with his rifle providing overwatch. He’d decided that arguing with Handy was going to do nothing more than attract trouble, and he wasn’t going to stand there and cause such a problem. And with what Handy had said, Gearing knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand there without defending himself and his actions. Most likely in a loud manner, if not physically. So he decided to give them enough space to work out whatever’s got his tail in a twist. Since he wasn’t make any logical sense to Gearing.

But then he started hearing the song the children were singing. Beyond all logic, it came to him clearly and crystalline in its quality. It was soft and sweet and he couldn’t help but smile as he heard the children sing. The kind of song that he’d love to have recorded on a holotape to play later. But then his body started moving, and he couldn’t really think of anything anymore. Everything was in a fog and, looking back on it, it should have been absolutely terrifying. His body moved on its own, walking in a straight line for the children. Not at a run. Not in any way that’d put him in any danger. It was slow. Steady. Cautious advancement. Like he was sneaking up on someone behind enemy lines. With all of the stealth and silence he would normally have. Like he had done to those Halfhearts earlier in the day. Nothing at all out of the ordinary for his traveling habits.

Except, this time, he wasn’t in the driver’s seat for his own actions.

He had no control what-so-ever. He can’t even remember if he was able to think anything at the time. He thinks, for the first time in his life, his mind was truly blank. Just a complete fog as he mindlessly walked straight to where he sits now. He looks around at the children around him and doesn’t feel annoyed. He feels relaxed. At peace. Completely safe and sound.

The exact opposite as, he knows for sure, he should be feeling. And, the longer he sits there, without the children singing, the more the situation dawns on him. And the greater the uneasiness weighs on him. It doesn’t take long for the snowballing effect of the growing anxiety at what just transpired to reach levels high enough to trigger even his fight or flight response.

Handy trots over grumbling, and then says, “Look… Gearing. We need to go, okay?”

“Sure,” Gearing says flatly as he pulls the earpieces out of his PipBuck and slowly puts them into his ears. An idea flashes through his mind of dropping an explosive. Of how quickly he can pull out a weapon and shoot them if they start singing. Or, if he could out right stomp on them before the effects hit him again. Each time they open their mouth, he cringes internally at the thought of so easily being thrown into a mental limbo again.

But then, they’re foals. So, given only two options, and one of them being morally reprehensible to him, he quickly starts looking around for how he can take advantage of option two.

Handy smiles and waves a hoof. “Alright… good. So-” Handy’s cut off as the earpieces in Gearing’s ears blare out the music of the Ministry of Morale at apparently the highest value that can be achieved.

Gearing winces a moment as he clicks it on and the children actually stumble back a bit in surprise as they stare at him. He looks around himself making sure that all of the children are clear as he says, “Excuse me.” The volume of his voice is slightly louder than normal as he can’t really tell how loud he’s speaking, but not wanting to scream at them. He jumps up into the air and beats his wings as he takes flight and quickly gains both speed and attitude. He gets a distance away, straight up, before he levels out and just hangs up there in mid air.

He doesn’t know what just happened to him. And he’s worried that that might have affected him. Or what it could be capable of. Completely overriding his will like that? That would be terrifying for any sentient creature. Being reduced to a mere thing that does the will of its controller? He finds that particularly distasteful, so he does the only thing he can think of: getting distance and removing his own ability to hear. It’s going to be a bit of a handicap. But the alternative is too horrible to even think about.

If they’d been adults, he’d very likely left and dropped grenades on them to make sure they couldn’t do it again. Friend or foe they can, and have, proven to be an unacceptable security risk. But they aren’t adults. They’re foals. And he hasn’t sunk low enough to intentionally kill a child. Yet. And he hopes to keep that particular small piece of his soul intact and untainted by the horrors of war as long as possible.

But this is unprecedented. If either side had this kind of ability during the war, it would have been over in short order. And one side would have instantly become a nation of mindless slaves. And there would be nothing the subjugated peoples could do about it. There was nothing he could do. And no one. Not the Zebras. Not Equestria. And damn sure not the princesses, should have that kind of power in Gearing’s opinion. His legs start shaking midair, as he stays aloft and it doesn’t take him long to stroll through that particular personal nightmare: being reduced to a will-less machine, trapped in your own body, and nothing more.

He doesn’t frighten easily. But these four children have managed it in short order.

With a single song.

Handy turns around and growls at Swift, “Well, what do you wanna do now when he wants to act like a fucking foal?”

Swift rolls her eyes. “I’ll go have a word with him.” She takes flight and quickly flies up to meet him. Gearing doesn’t pull away from her, and, instead, stays in his same relative space, just fluttering around slightly in the air to seemingly try and make himself less of an easy target. They stare at each other for a few moments before she asks, “Would you please come down and talk with us?”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments, then points at his ears and shakes his head before he screams out, “Can’t hear you!”

Swift rolls her eyes then taps out a message on her PipBuck.

[Take out the earpieces please.]

Gearing looks at his PipBuck and then shakes his head and yells out, “Not a chance! I don’t know what they did to me. I’m not letting that happen again.”

Swift frowns and taps out another message.

[They’re just children and trying to keep friends from fighting.]

Gearing rolls his eyes and yells back as he points a hoof down towards Handy, “I left to keep from fighting. Handy’s so stuck on stupid that nothing I said would have mattered. So I decided to leave before it got physical. I don’t know what you put up with, but I’m not going to just stand there and put up with his abuse.”

Swift frowns and slaps a hoof over her eyes before pointing at Gearing after sending off another reply.

[Well a group needs to stick together. You can’t just run off, we can’t do anything if we’re waiting on you or because you won’t talk to us.]

Gearing looks at her for a few moments then shrugs. “So. What? You guys want me gone? Tell Handy if that’s the case, then just be a damn stallion and come out and say it. I’ll go back to the stable. Hell, I’ll even escort the kids back while I’m at it. Then I’ll grab my shit, and me and Sable will just leave.” He throws his hooves around and grumbles, “I’d rather that than just waiting around for him to have another tantrum and deciding to get rid of me some other way. I know I don’t need to sleep. But I’d prefer to have the option, and not having to constantly look over my back worried about when he’s going to stick an AP round in it.”

Swift shakes her head then quickly types out a message.

[Gearing. It’s not like that. He wouldn’t do that to you. He likes you.]

Gearing narrows his eyes and flies a bit closer as he asks, “Oh really? He has a funny way of showing it… Tell me... did he tell you how he tried to use Sable to control me? By using his administrative privileges to order her to stop seeing me? How he had me locked up and stuck until she agreed to his terms? Or how pissed he was when he found out that, once she got the new chassis, she didn’t have to listen to him anymore?”

Swift stares at him for a few moments and lets out a long sigh before she shakes her head. She closes her eyes as she mentally groans, Handy, what have you done… That bit of information makes Sable’s reaction and statements on the roof of the office building make so much more sense. The animosity and open hostility Sable has towards Handy at times suddenly seems perfectly justified. Unlike the obviously edited version she’d gotten from Handy that seemed fishy at best.

Gearing nods as he snorts with emphasis, “Ah huh. Thought not!”

Swift sends him another message then watches him with a sad frown across her muzzle.

[So, are you just going to abandon us, Gearing?]

Gearing looks at his PipBuck and jerks slightly as he reads the message. Whether intended to or not, it strikes a deep chord with him. He slowly shakes his head, as he slowly turns down the volume on his PipBuck. Then, after being sure that whatever enchanted music there was before isn’t around, he goes ahead and removes the earpieces entirely. He looks at Swift for a few moments before he says flatly, “Swift. No. I’ll stay around, and I’ll help all I can. I promise that. But… do you have any idea what it’s like having your will stripped from you like that?” He points a hoof down towards the ground. “It’s fucking terrifying. I had no idea what was happening. Hell, anything could have happened. And if Handy would have decided to take the opportunity to do away with me, there’s not a fucking thing I could have done about it.” He hangs his head and shakes it before he says quietly, “I was reduced… to a fucking protectapony… N-nothing m-” *Click* “-ore than a s-” *tick* “-tack of parts doing what its m-” *Click* “-m-” *Tickity click* “-master wanted.” He snorts hard, but it strikes Swift as more of a sniffle.

Swifts eyes go wide as she thinks about the situation as a whole. And it doesn’t take long for such a personal nightmare like that to run its train of thought through her mind. She puts her forehooves to her muzzle as she gasps and mutters, “Sweet Celestia… no…” She flies closer and lifts his face to look at her with a forehoof. “Gearing, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. They were just trying to help. I don’t think they realized- They won’t do it again. If you want to leave, they’ll let you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Gearing takes in a few deep shivering breaths and groans, “There’s nothing I could do.” *Click* “I wasn’t me. How can I get over that? What if it h-” *tick* “-appens again?”

Swift’s gaze trails over Gearing’s body and takes in as much of his body as she can see. Outside of his wings, which steadily work to keep him aloft, the rest of his body seems off. And after looking at his exposed legs, and where they connect to his body, it finally dawns on her. His gears are moving. Sporadically. He seems to be shaking hard enough that if he were a simple machine he’d probably vibrate himself apart right there in mid air.

And it only takes a moment more for it to likewise click with her. For the first time since meeting him, Gearing seems scared to her. Genuinely scared. Terrified even. The kind of deep to the core fear that has made foals, and some full grown adults, wet themselves in response.

Swift, not knowing what else to do, gives him a light hug. “I’m sorry, Gearing.”

He lets her, hanging his head over her shoulder for a few moments as he thinks things through. Given the rampant fight or flight response it doesn’t take him long to come to a solid conclusion. Especially now that he’s starting to think more clearly and not having to deal with as much of an impulse to flee. Having made the decision he pushes her back a bit and gets a stern look on his face as he asks, “Do you know what standard rules of engagement are?”

Swift tilts her head and shrugs. “You mean like combat inhibitors?”

Gearing shakes his head. “No. Operational rules of engagement. Rules the government places on those acting on their behalf on when and how much force can be applied.”

She shakes her head lightly. “I’ve never been in the military.”

Gearing nods his head as his eyes trail down towards Handy. “Well. Rules of engagement, at least in general, stand at simply: ‘Not to fire unless you are fired upon.’ The general intent behind it is that force only escalates up to the same amount the opposing party has used.” He waves a hoof around and rolls his eyes. “Of course they can be modified on a case by case basis, such that you can be released for ‘Weapons Free’ in areas where the opposing party are already considered lethally hostile… but you get what I mean.”

Swift shrugs and nods before shaking her head and saying, “I don’t see what you’re getting at though.”

Gearing points a hoof down at Handy and growls. “That makes three… three times I’ve been at the mercy of his hooves… I’m not letting it happen again. I can’t afford to. That’s not even factoring in what he tried and did do with Sable. He’s fucking unstable. So if that situation arises again… I’m going to defend myself with whatever force necessary to get me out of the situation… You understand me?”

Swift’s wings pause flapping for a moment in pure shock, causing her to drop a bit before she comes back up and scowls. “Are you planning on killng my husband?!”

Gearing stares at her in the eyes and waves it away with a hoof. “I’m planning to get the hell out of the situation. But, out of respect for you, I’m letting you know, if he tries this shit again, or some other form to keep me from exercising my will to leave… I’m going to go through him if I have to. Up to, and yes including, killing him if necessary. It’s not the goal, but I’m just warning you in advance. I cannot allow myself to be captured like that.”

He looks down at Handy and points a hoof at the ground as he says flatly, “For Handy, ROE has been modified… Forceful detention will no longer be tolerated.”

Swift looks between the two and her eyes tear up a bit as she chokes. “Please, Gearing… If you’re really my friend. Don’t kill my husband. My children need a father.” She looks down at Handy and moans, “I know he can be an insufferable ass that acts more like a foal than a grown ass stallion at times. But he’s got a good heart and is an amazing caring father. He’s not acting like himself lately. He’s normally a big hearted idealist…” She looks at Gearing. “You saw how he was when the Gunners attacked. What we had to do gutted him.” She closes her eyes as she moans, “I don’t know if it was the pain, or what, but even with the drugs he wasn’t as… cruel… with his fighting tactics as he was in that office building we crashed on. Something’s wrong with him, and I worry it’s getting worse.” She shakes her head before looking back at Handy. “He’s been… under a lot of stress since we escaped the Institute… and things just got worse in the stable.” She looks at Gearing and tilts her head. “And don’t forget the raider disease… he’s still getting over it, I can tell…”

Gearing taps on his own chest as he stretches out his neck towards her. “Yeah, I know. I cured him of that. Remember? I don’t know how good of a job I did, or what permanent damage it could have caused. But I did that.” He waves a hoof down at the ground and groans. “Though he’s seemed to conveniently forgotten that bit…”

Swift nods quickly then flies closer. “I know… I know… and thank you for that. Please… just… just try and work it out. It’ll help all of us. Me. Handy. You. Sable. Everypony else. It’s better to stick together and help each other.”

Gearing raises both of his hooves and says with a sigh. “Okay. ... Okay! … I hear you. I’ll try… but this is entirely up to Handy. I’m not one of his protectaponies to be ordered around, I won’t live like that. And he is damn sure not my commanding officer.” He sighs and looks at Handy for a bit before looking back at Swift. “I’ll do my best. But, like I said, ROE is as it stands. I will not suffer any more captivity.”

Her eyes go wide and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

Gearing flies closer and tries to wave it off. “Remember! ‘Don’t fire unless fired upon’! I’m not going to look for problems. Okay? I’m not declaring a death order. I just wanted you to know what might happen if he suddenly tries to kill me or trap me again.” Gearing leans back midair and folds his forelegs. “To be fair. Nothing’s really changed. If he would have shot me previously, I would have killed him. And if he were anypony else, I would have just killed him for that stunt.” He leans towards her and raises his eyebrows as he says flatly, “And I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, and I would have made sure the job was done and final… if anything… what I’m telling you now is that I’m going to restrain myself. Out of respect for you. So… if he does anything… There’s a good chance he’ll just get maimed. But it’s still on the table.”

Swift wipes her nose and glares at him through the tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t like the thought of you being so willing to kill my husband, Gearing.”

Gearing points at her and asks, “You mean to tell me that if Nahlah tried to kill you, or Handy, or one of your children, that you wouldn’t do everything in your power to defend them? Including killing her if necessary?”

Swift tilts her head then looks down at Nahlah. It’s not exactly a fair comparison, but she can definitely concede the point. She nods lightly. “Okay… just… just leave if you have to if it comes up. Or… just tell me and I’ll knock some sense into him so you can leave and it doesn’t come to that.”

Gearing grins and shrugs. “That sounds like a better plan to me anyway… but… on a related note…” He looks down at Handy and sighs. “If you tell him what I just said. That’s up to you. He might take it to heart, and realize that I’m not some protectapony and he should start treating me with the same respect he gives anypony else instead of trying to force me to do anything… However...” He looks at Swift. “If his recent behavior has been any indicator… he’ll go off the deep end and try to say I’m actively threatening his life, or some bullshit, and actually either attack me or try something in the same category. And, in doing so, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy by making me kill him.” He shrugs again. “But, that’s up to you.”

Swift frowns and looks down at Handy as she thinks. Gearing’s right. Handy’s been taking things to the extreme lately. He’d probably only pick and choose what he hears and take it to the worst possible side of things. She’s sure that, once he really knows Gearing, he’ll become more comfortable, but, at least for now, she’ll keep it to herself. She shakes her head lightly and says, “I’ll tell him when the time’s right…” She looks at Gearing and tilts her head. “So… you going to come down and join us or is your shiny ass going to stay up here and look like a disco ball to be shot at?” She wipes the tears from her eyes and grins.

Gearing smirks back. “Alright. Fine. You got a point.” He folds his crystalline wings, and rapidly cuts altitude by letting gravity do its work before he fans them out again and comes to a gentle landing by the children. He trots up to the kids as he’s folding his wings and asks, “So… you kids were trying to help some friends with your music, huh?”

The children beam with pride and grin at him as they nod.

Swift swings around in the air as she’s coming in for a landing and touches down behind the group of children. She looks them over with a smile as she says, “I guess introductions are in order…”

Swift raises her left wing and hangs the tip over the tallest one of the bunch, on Gearing’s far right, with the orange mane and yellow streaks running through it. “This little dear is Adagio Dazzle.” The pale yellow filly partially rears up before hopping around and nodding in agreement towards Gearing.

Swift moves the wingtip over to the pale purple filly next in line and comments, “And this rambunctious one is Aria Blaze.” The second in line, and second tallest, pauses rubbing her head through her cyan striped purple mane long enough to wave at him with the same hoof.

Switching to her right wing, Swift continues with the third tallest and last filly of the group, “And this little one is Sonata Dusk.” The pale blue filly bops side to side with her head, causing her blue mane, with its many thin purple streaks, to swish back and forth.

The moment Swift’s wing starts to appear over his head, and before she can say anything, the smallest member of the group, and the only colt, hops up in the air and squeals with delight, “I’m Andante! Andante Dawn!” The pale green colt trots in place happily as he throws his blue mane about with the energy, causing the cyan strips in it to dance about. “How’d you hide like that? It was soooo cool! I didn’t even see you walk up to us. I bet you always win at hide-and-seek, huh?”

Gearing looks the four over and instantly feels like something is off with them. Something just seems unnatural about them, aside from the magical music ability. On top of everything else are their eyes. All of them. Each one seems to have the exact same set of violet orbs peeking out at him. What are the odds of four foals, even siblings, to have the exact same shade of eye color among them?

But, their actions, and rampant energy and questions, are decidingly foalish. And they seem genuinely happy to see him. He decides it may be better to just see how this plays out. He’s aware unicorns practicing magic had been known to have a variety of accidents, and cause a variety of problems as they try to get their own abilities focused and under their control. Indeed, they don’t seem to have any malicious intentions. He even quickly flips his EFS on and off just to make sure. He hadn’t forgotten what had just happened, far from it. He’s sure he’ll never forget that for the rest of his unnatural life. But, for now, he realizes it may be best to simply keep mellow and avoid escalating anything. It’ll also give him some time to figure out exactly what’s going on here. And, maybe, find out how a group of four, seemingly earth pony, foals are able to apparently cast magic with their songs alone.

“Well, I’ve probably spent about as much time, or more, practicing it than you have practicing your singing. And I bet you practice singing a lot!” Gearing replies with a grin.

“Yeah! We’re pretty good, right?” the little pale green colt asks as he hops back and forth between one foreleg and the other.

Gearing leans down to look at them and fans out his wings. He angles his wings above them and starts to cover them in the green and blue hues of light his wings create. “Yeah! Only thing you need now is a bit of a light show and you’d be superstars! You should record your music. I bet people would love hearing it.”

As nice as a sample might be for study, here’s hoping their weird effects can’t be captured and transmitted along with the audio… the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head frets at it nibbles on it’s forehooves.

All four of the kids hop around happily and trot around Gearing in a circle, dancing in the various colored rays of lights as they giggle. Nahlah walks up slowly, with a poorly concealed limp, and smirks as she watches the fun they are having. Nahlah smiles widely and waves a paw as she says casually, “Well. Yeah. They’re okay… I suppose… Maybe with a bit more coaching…” The attempt at a cavalier attitude is ruined by her obvious limp and Sable walking closely behind her with her cables at the ready incase she falls.

Gearing rolls his eyes and then looks at Nahlah. “Oh? Well then how about you guys team up and sing something? Show us what you got?”

Nahlah grins sheepishly and shrugs, but the kids hop over and start circling around her instead as they giggle and try to get her to join in on the musical fun. Nahlah eventually relents and they sit there talking among themselves as they try to figure out what song they all know that they can sing together.

Swift flutters over near them and comments as she walks by, “Just normal songs… okay kids? … You know what I mean… right?”

The children giggle and nod, with the pale blue Sonata confirming, “Oookay… Fine.”

Eventually they decide on what they want to sing and take their spots in the rubble of the collapsing building, arranged by height again with Nahah in the center and two foals on either side of her. The youngest, Andante, strikes the first cord of their vocals and the rest, including Nahlah, follow suit singing in near perfect harmony. This first song, doesn’t really have any true lyrics to it. It’s more like they are simply harmonizing tones and getting used to their new singing partners. But, still, even though they don’t seem to really be saying anything, the sound is still rather sweet and hard to ignore.

Gearing, feeling a bit better about the situation, perches above them on top of the still standing stone wall behind them. He catches the light in his wings, directing it down onto them like greenish-blue micro spotlights that keep moving around as the kids sing through their first number. They look up and grin even wider as the green and blue beams of light pass over them, putting in extra effort in appreciation for his support. They sit there, swaying with the beat, and singing to their heart’s content, extra happy at not only singing, but having an audience to boot.

The second song that they sing, whose start was only signaled by a brief pause by all of them simultaneously before picking up at an entirely different octave, is another matter. It’s a high energy round style of song where they are simply taking turns saying silly phrases, but with the same beat and tone, with the others following suit with it. They are obviously having fun with it and start bopping around in position as they manage to make such phrases as ‘steppy weppy on the buggy wuggy’ not only sound pleasing to the ear, but adorably cute as well.

After finishing a third song, which seemed like some slow jazzy version of ‘The Pony-Pokey’ Swift claps her hooves together to get their attention and yells out, “Okay, that’s enough! You kids need to get going to the stable. We’ll meet you there. Then you can sing to your heart’s content.”

They let out moans of disappointment but Gearing lands near them and adds with a grin, “Hey, you’re just singing to five of us out here. There’s sixteen children at the stable that I’m sure would love to hear your singing talent.”

They start hopping around as they jabber excitedly.

“Sixteen?!”

“Kids?!”

“Our age?!”

“Really?!””

Swift nods. “That’s right. And it’s nice and safe there. Let’s escort you back and you can sing all you want. But try to keep it quiet on the way there, because there’s lots of bad ponies out here that might want to hurt everypony.”

The kids wave it off and Andante adds, “Nah. We can make it on our own. We got this far. Nopony messes with us when we’re singing and marching.”

Swift is unconvinced and Gearing leans over towards her as he says, “Hey. I can keep watch on them and make sure they get there safe. They won’t even know I’m there. Then I can just fly back as soon as they’re in.”

Swift partially frowns as she asks, “You’re going to come back though, right?”

Gearing gives her a wide grin as he throws his wings out wide. “Of course! “He turns around and fans out his wings widely. “One glorious bastard escort coming up.”

“Pardon the interruption, but I have a matter of concern that needs attention,” Sable comments as she walks up to Swift and Gearing.

They both turn to look at her, and Gearing asks, “What’s up, Sable?”

Sable looks over at Nahlah as she says, “I am concerned for Subject Nahlah’s wellbeing. I have been monitoring her during the trip since her injury, and I do not believe it would be a good idea for her to continue much longer without proper treatment.” She looks back at Swift and Gearing as she asks, “Is there no location nearby that can provide the needed diagnostics?”

Swift puts a hoof to her mouth as she says softly, “There’s no way for us to know… Megamart should, but that doesn’t mean they do.”

Gearing looks over at Nahlah, and notices her ear is directed in their direction even though she’s facing the children. He runs a hoof through his mane before calling over, “Nahlah… hey, Nahlah!” She flinches at first, and then turns her head to look at him. Once achieving eye contact, Gearing continues, “Nahlah, how bad is it? We need to know the truth. Don’t try and tough it out.”

Nahlah maneuvers around so he can see her outstretched left hind leg before she says softly, “It hurts… Bad” She shakes her head before looking over at Gearing and frowning. “It’s like I’m getting stabbed in a buncha places when I move my hip.”

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks over at Swift. “Sounds like the fragments are moving around. That’s what I was worried about. A potion will help in the short term, but those pieces have to come out or they’ll keep causing more damage and pain.”

Swift looks between them and finally settles her eyes on Gearing. “Well… what are you suggesting? I know you’ve already been thinking about it…”

Gearing looks over at Nahlah and frowns for a few moments before he says softly, “We gotta go back…” He looks around at the others as he adds, “We don’t know where the next medical facility is. The only one we know for a fact where it is, and is functional, is back in the stable. So, we could very well be getting further from where we need to be going with each step closer to Megamart we get.” He shrugs. “If we get all the way there, and find out they can’t take care of it, it’ll be a massive disaster for Nahlah. And we’ll have just that much further to go to get home, along with not being able to carry much anyway, because, in all likelihood, we’d have to carry her back.” He shakes his head as he looks over at Nahlah. “An injury like that can not be taken lightly.”

Handy walks over to join the conversation as he groans. “So we’ve basically wasted the trip up here? We don’t even have a wagon to take us back and forth this time…”

Nahlah leans over and her eyes go wide. “No! We can’t do that! Not when we’re so close!”

“But, Subject Nahlah, your injuries require attention that cannot be provided currently. Returning to the stable would increase the likelihood of a positive outcome,” Sable chimes in.

Gearing looks back and forth as he scratches his chin with a hoof.

Swift looks at him sideways, and then turns to face him as she asks, “What are you thinking? I know that look.”

Gearing looks over at her, then over at Handy. He lets out a sigh as he waves a hoof around. “Well… There is another option.”

“What is it?” Nahlah asks. “Anything’s gotta be better than just abandoning the trip now. I’d feel horrible we’d gone through all we have for… nothing.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before he looks over at Swift. “We split up.” There’s a momentary burst of objections from everyone before he adds and talks over them all, “Swift and Handy can keep heading towards Megamart. The rest of us head back to 68.” He looks back and forth between Swift and Handy as he continues, “This’ll have the added advantage of giving the foals an escort along the way. But I’ll catch up once I’m done with the escort. If I don’t have to worry about anyone else, and not carrying anyone else, I can just wing it on a straight course there.” He shakes his head. “I’ve made similar trips before, it really wouldn’t take me long.” He taps on the ground as he finishes, “If you get there first, you can start shopping for what we need and, once I get there, I can help finish that up and then we can all carry everything back.”

Nahlah looks around at the others and lets out a sigh as she says, “I don’t know… I’d still feel horrible about making you go all that extra distance just for me.”

Gearing shakes his head. “The kids need an escort back anyway. So it’s not exactly a wasted trip.” He smiles at her. “Besides, don’t sell yourself short. You’d be worth the trip even if they weren’t coming too.” Nahlah gives him a warm, genuine, smile in return.

“We don’t need no escort!” Andante says with a huff from his position with the other foals. “We’ll be just fine on our own!”

His declarations are universally ignored by all of the adults as they carry on their conversation and don’t even bother replying.

Sable steps up in front of Gearing before she asks, “I take it from your description… my darling Gearing intends to leave me at the stable this time?”

Gearing looks at her for a moment before giving a slight nod. “Sorry, Sable… But I’m pretty sure we’re going to need you to carry Nahlah back. Her walking the whole way back just isn’t an option… and for me to get back in time I’ll have to fly.” They stare at each other for a few moments before he says, “I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

“Safe,” Sable says evenly.

“What?”

“Safe… I want you back safe, my Gearing,” Sable replies. “You’ve already been shot down once this trip. Take your time if you need to. I would prefer my precious Gearing take all the time he needs in order to avoid injury, instead of getting further injured because he prioritized speed instead of caution.”

He smiles and leans towards her. “I’ll certainly do my best.”

She leans out and gives him a soft kiss on the side of his muzzle, just shy of a full lip kiss. “Then I shall support this plan of action, and do what I can to help my darling Gearing.”

“Sorry to ask for so much,” Gearing says with a sigh before stretching out and giving her a full kiss as she’s pulling back.

Sable grins widely as she partially closes her eyes. “It’s okay. My darling Gearing can simply pay me back later when he returns to me.” They look into each other’s eyes for a moment before she gives a quick wiggle of her flanks to make sure he gets the idea.

Everyone gets the idea.

Except the foals.

Thankfully.

Nahlah snickers with a paw over her mouth as Handy and Swift simultaneously facehoof.

Footnote: ‘gravity assistant matrix’ reinitializing, please stand by. . .

Beginning Gravity Differential alignment, please stand by. . .

Calculating Mass Augmentation thresholds, please stand by. . .

Mass Augmentation thresholds set, please stand by. . .

61 That Sinking Feeling

Swift wakes up and summons an instant frown across her muzzle. Before the sun has even thought about trying to start its daily grind of fighting the cloud cover in its bid to illuminate the surface. She quickly shuts off the annoying high pitch alarm screeching out of her PipBuck, that’s quickly getting on her nerves, and lets out a sigh as she stays lying on the pile of straw. Taking quick stock of where she’s at, she finds that she’d really rather not get up at the moment. With the comfortably warm straw supporting her weight under her, and practically swallowing her, she has a lot of delightful reasons to stay where she is. Especially the slowly breathing blue buck she currently has wrapped up in her forelegs as he’s peacefully sleeping. She lets out a sigh as she knows she needs to get going. They all need to get going. Yes, they have obligations to get to. Yes, there are those that are counting on them. But, in this moment, with her husband held so closely to her, the one thing that comes to the forefront of her mind has nothing to do with any of that. And everything to do with what she doesn’t feel at the moment.

Namely her three children so far away in Stable 68.

She can’t help but smile as she thinks of the last time she was in a similar position to how she is laying now. With Handy held close to her in a comfortable bed. But, her three children aren’t here this time. They aren’t clamoring over both of them, and snuggling in between them as they share in the mutual joy of their company. An adventure here and there, and getting to test her skills, and improve, is all good and well. But that’s not what’s making her wake up at the moment. That’s not what’s actively motivating her to get going now instead of snuggling into the straw more and dealing with everything later.

The need to get this over with, so she can get back to her family in Stable 68, kicks her into high gear as she realizes the sooner she gets this mess over with, the sooner she can get home.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t have fun along the way.

A smile crosses her muzzle, before she leans over and starts slowly nibbling on Handy’s ear. Ever so slowly. And, as he starts stirring, she escalates her affections until she’s kissing and nibbling her way down his neck and to his shoulder.

Handy takes in a deep breath and blindly gives her a slowly growing smile as he asks, “Swift, you trying to start something here?” Then he actively pulls her close as he leans in and gives her a few random kisses on whichever part of her he can reach at that given moment: causing him to trail kisses around on her shoulder and neck in the process.

“Mmmhmmm,” Swift says as she pulls back just enough to give him a full on lip mashing kiss.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

She lets out a light snicker as she pulls back a bit. “Getting you up.”

Handy gives her a crooked smile as he says, “Yeah, well, congratulations… because I am… and it’s your fault.”

She giggles as she leans in and kisses him on the nose. “Oh, don’t I know it…” She gives him a kiss on the cheek before hopping up and away from the stack of straw. “Well, now that it feels like you’re entirely up and awake… I’ll go wake up Dandy so we can go.”

Handy flops into the straw and goes limp as he groans. “Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to wait until I’m not going to worry about tripping myself…” He chuckles before he says, “But you keep teasing me like this, and I’m gonna tie you up.”

Swift hops back over and manages to stealth kiss him right on the lips. “Go ahead, keep on threatening me with a good time.” She giggles before jumping back and away from him before he can grab her and pull her back into the straw pile.

She looks around in the dark loft of the barn and says quietly, “Just stay there… I got an idea.”

“Oh boy… I know that tone,” Handy says with a smirk as he simply relaxes back into the straw.

Swift hovers and flies closer to the second pile of straw, then lands as quietly as she can. She looks around, and makes sure Dandy is still where she is by keeping an eye on the blue indicator on her EFS. She quietly walks over to the stacked improvised wall of boxes and crates not far away, and hunkers down on the other side of it. After going perfectly still, she starts listening in the dark, focusing all of her attention towards the stack of straw that she’s sure Dandy is buried in.

Swift puts her forehooves up to her mouth, cupping it to try and magnify the sound in the direction she wants, and calls out with a sharp shrill cry that is such a perfect imitation of a fussy foal wailing in the night it would be excused if anyone thought she’d been using an audio recorder. And not simply her own memory and vocal cords. “Waaaaa wa wa waaaaa waaaaaa!”

Handy sits up instantly and looks around the pile of straw they’d slept in, in the direction of the noise as his ears twitch around.

“Na-wha-What?! What?! Fuck-nah-wha?!” Dandy screeches as she blows out of the pile of straw and sends fragments sailing in a variety of directions as she makes a crater in the middle as if a volcano had just exploded. She hits the floor of the loft on her hooves wide eyed with her tail standing straight out, spins around in the dark, then starts backing up, causing herself to involuntarily sit down before she starts kicking herself further backwards with all of her legs while still seated. “Wha?! No! Too soon, not now, what?! No!” After she scrambles back all the way to the wood frame of the barn’s roof, she looks around as she yells, “What the hell’s going on?!”

Handy uses his forehooves to hold his muzzle as tightly as he can to keep from laughing before he clears his throat and calls over to her. “Hey, Dandy, you okay?”

“Did you just hear that?!”

“Hear what?”

While Handy has Dandy’s focus, Swift hops up in the air and quickly flies low to the floor and back as she swings around the large straw stack and starts hiding there.

“A fucking baby! I just heard a fucking baby! I know I heard a foal crying!” Dandy yells as she looks around quickly.

Swift has tears in her eyes as she fights to keep herself from laughing. She swallows a few times before calling out with a choke that she tries to disguise with a cough, “Oh, y-yeah… I had dreams like that too… Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal when you’re pregnant.”

Dandy pops up her little orb of light and runs around the loft, looking behind the boxes and inside of the crates. “Where’s that baby? I know I heard it!”

“In your tummy?” Swift offers helpfully as she covers her eyes with her forehooves and has a hard time breathing as she forces herself not to laugh.

“Nah, that’s bullshit!” Dandy starts hopping up and down before she walks over to the larger straw stack where Swift is hiding. “You know what?! You know that contest you two were going to have if we find out something happened to Lodestar?”

Handy peeks around the straw stack at her and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Uh, yeah, what of it?”

“Well now it’s a three way, and I’m gonna kick both of your asses in it! I need something to kill!” She walks over to and down the stairs as she grumbles. “Motherfuckn’sonsabitchin piece of shit!”

Swift rolls over and yells out after her. “Oh, that’s okay, that’s just the mood swings, Dandy! That’s normal too!”

Dandy’s response is the light winking out as she lets out a string of unintelligible screeching at the universe.

Handy and Swift snicker as they hold each other and bury their laughter in each others necks.

“Well I’m fucking wide awake now. No way I’m getting back to sleep after this shit. Let’s get out of here!” Dandy calls as they can see her light spell kicking on again through the cracks of the floor boards.”

“Mission accomplished,” Swift says quietly with a grin.

A moment later Dandy yells up through the floor, “Would you two come on already!?” A loud knocking sound comes from the floor under them as Dandy uses her spell to pound on the wood of the loft’s floor from below. “I swear if you two start fucking, I’ll leave you here!”

“Alright, alright, don’t have to get your tail in a twist,” Swift says with a giggle as she hovers down from the loft with Handy following at a steady trot as he carries the lantern Exuberance had provided them. As he’s passing the fragment of the skywagon, he sets the lantern on it in the relatively same area that Exuberance had left it, but currently turned off, before he follows Swift to the barn’s front double doors.

Before they even get far from the hunk of rust in the middle of the barn, Dandy quickly pushes open one of the doors and walks out into the misty night as she circles around to the side of the barn.

Handy’s the last one out, and calls out to them in a loud whisper as he shuts the barn door, “Hey, hold up a minute.”

Dandy turns around with a scowl, and watches as Handy looks around, then starts circumventing the barn, only to start walking over to a small stack of crates and barrels next to the building. Handy turns and waves them over as he says, “It’s probably going to be a bit, lets fill up whatever we can with water so we’re not having to drink out of a toilet or something.” He looks through the inventory sorter of his PipBuck, then pulls out a small cloth bundle from the top of his saddlebag and sets it onto the crates with a familiar metallic jingle.

Dandy walks over and looks him and the bag over as she asks, “What’s the bag of caps for? There’s been more than enough rain, they said so themselves. And they already said you can have what you want.”

Handy grabs the ladle from the water bucket, and starts dolling out water from the rain barrel into various bottles he pulls out of his saddlebag. “Even if that were true, I’m not a thief. I haven’t had a chance to ask them if I can fill up my canteen before leaving, and I don’t want to wake them up just to ask.” He shrugs as he looks back and forth between Swift and Dandy. “Besides… Like we all know, they could really use the money.”

Swift grins widely, then walks up and starts kissing on his cheek and neck. “You know, Mr. Handy Hooves, you can be a real sweetie when you want to be.” She starts gently nibbling on his ear. “Mmmhmm delicious…”

Dandy can’t help but giggling as Handy gets flustered and even spills a bit of the water he’s scooping out. She quickly pulls out a few of her own, including some empty potion bottles, and sets them out for a quick fill up as well. Which Handy does quickly top off, and does the same with the containers Swift produces.

Once finished, and everything is stowed away properly, they go ahead and leave. But before doing so, and because Handy wanted to make sure the Roots knew what had transpired, he lays the water dipping ladle across the pair of bags of caps that they placed onto the crates that are next to the rainwater barrels. His hope is they’ll know what it was for. But, at the worst of it, they’ll simply find the bags of caps, one from him and one from Dandy, and not know why the money was left behind. Especially if the water levels in the rain barrel return to being completely full. Which, given Hoofington’s weather, especially around here lately, is a high probability.

They don’t get very far before Dandy drops the light spell, casting them into darkness, and they begin traveling slowly by carefully picking their way through the nighttime wastes.

* * *

The first indicator of the sun deciding to start to wake up was that their little search party could see what and where they were walking easier as the ambient light started increasing. They continue trotting along as they look around for anything out of the ordinary with Swift in the lead.

Regularly Swift checks her PipBuck map and compares it to the paper one that she’d drawn with the additional map details that Exuberance had expected Lodestar to take. It’s more than a little confusing to her, and at one point, where there is a seemingly massive arc and detour from what would normally be a straight line, she decides to try and figure out why Lodestar was so set on avoiding a certain collection of buildings.

So with the sky still pretty dark, Swift has the others continue on the way to the next point of the arc and takes flight. She flies straight towards the collection of buildings not far away, that they would be passing through if they were going straight to Stockyard without making the detours, and carefully zips around in the air. And, once she gets enough altitude to look over the collection of stone and brick buildings, or what’s left of them, she gets a perfect view of why Lodestar decided to avoid the place like it was ground zero for a detonation.

Because it looks like it was.

There’s a massive sinkhole that seems to have eaten up an entire industrial complex and the surrounding buildings. But, according to her PipBuck, it’s not as massively radioactive as it would be if it had received a direct hit. Although the hole’s not quite big enough for a balefire bomb blast anyway. But the devastation is undeniable. Around the periphery of the crater the buildings slowly tilt and teeter perilously towards the center of the hole. Even as she’s watching, she can see pieces falling off where some combination of rot, decay, gravity, or simply wind provides just enough force to make different things or pieces of buildings fall off and into the deep hole. From her best guess it’s either some kind of underground complex that caved in, or there was a natural pocket in the ground under the buildings that finally decided to stop supporting whatever it was holding up.

Regardless of the reasons, the center of the crater is one giant jumble of construction material, vehicles, furniture, and other items of ancient pony life all reduced to so much landfill garbage.

As Swift is trailing her eyes over the expanse of destruction her eyes are drawn to the far side where the crater has grown so large that it has completely eaten the buildings that were on that side of the hole. And, indeed, she can see where the growing sinkhole is in the process of trying to eat the street between it and the buildings on the other side of said street. She hovers there looking around carefully and her head suddenly jerks up higher to look at the building directly across the gap as something draws her attention. A moment later she cuts altitude, flies over to the building closest to her and makes her way to the other side of its roof.

She flies over to one of the many mostly broken walls, and hides behind it as she pokes her muzzle around just enough to see beyond and towards the other side of the crater again. Once in a position that she feels comfortable enough staying in, she trails her eyes over to the building she’d seen earlier, and carefully starts looking it over. After a few more moments she pulls back and groans as she says, to herself as no one else is around, “Well, fuck… maybe later…” Then she drops down and zips through the large holes in the buildings as she flies away and returns to Dandy and Handy.

As she’s coming in for a landing near the front, Dandy asks, “What’d you see? Any idea why Lodestar would make this detour? It’s a real time waster.”

Swift looks between them as she nods and points back towards where she’d come from as they are reaching the peak of the detour’s arc. “Giant ass sinkhole. The entire area’s unstable, it looks like it’s getting bigger by the second.”

Handy looks over in the direction of the buildings blocking the view to the hole and nods as he says, “As good of a reason to avoid it as I can think of too.”

“It gets worse,” Swift adds with a frown.

Dandy stops and looks between Swift and the crater’s location as she asks, “Worse? How worse? Like industrial waste ‘worse’? Pack of ferrals ‘worse’ or what?”

“Just don’t say-” Handy starts.

“Raiders,” Swift replies and, from the sudden extra sour look on Handy’s face it’s clear to everyone she’s simultaneously finished his sentence for him.

“Raiders?” Dandy asks as her ears perk up in alarm. “You sure?”

Swift nods as she points off towards the building she’d been spying on. “Yeah. It’s hard to miss their handy work. They have the place decorated up like some kind of macabre museum.”

Handy puts a hoof to his chin as he nods. “Yeah, the unstable ground would be bad enough, but having a raider nest near it?” He nods a few more times before tapping on the ground with a hoof. “That’d more than explain this ridiculous detour.”

Dandy looks around as she says quietly, “Yeah… that makes sense… but…” She trails off as she says, “I don’t know.”

Swift flutters over towards her and starts hovering in front of her face as she asks, “What’s up?”

Dandy looks between them then points towards the crater. “If Lodestar knew there was a raider nest there, I don’t see why he didn’t report it.” She looks back and forth again as she nods. “It’s typically common courtesy for the caravanners to share that kind of information so they know to avoid it so they don’t become some psycho’s midnight snack.”

“Maybe he didn’t bother because it’s on the way from Stockyard to the Roots’ place, and he didn’t figure it was relevant because practically nopony goes out that way,” Handy offers.

Dandy bobs her head around. “I guess that makes sense… But I’ll make sure to put in the report when I get back to Megamart. Don’t want someone to establish a new route only to get turned into a snacrifice.” She grins widely as she says, “Besides, someone might be willing to cough up some caps to have it cleared out, and that could turn into a very nice payday!”

Swift snickers as she shakes her head. “Is the only thing you think about is money?”

Dandy shrugs as she says with a grin, “Hey… a gal’s gotta eat.”

Swift smirks as she turns to look in the direction of the raider infested building in the distance. “Well, let’s get going. We’ll add them to the list and come back after we find Lodestar. Because I could really use the exercise.”

Handy hangs his head as he groans while continuing to follow Swift, “I hate raiders… soulless monsters…”

Swift hovers over near him and smiles as she says, “Hey, at least you won’t have anything to feel guilty about afterwards, right?”

Handy looks up at her with his eyes narrowed as he says bitterly, “We probably wouldn’t have to kill them if we could cure them. They aren’t in their right minds right now. It’s the disease; you know this better than anypony.”

Dandy rolls her eyes and waves it away with a hoof. “Wish all you want to, there’s no cure once somepony goes raider. There’s no coming back from it.” She shakes her head. “They eventually die from the disease itself, from an infection they get from not taking care of themselves, or from someone or something else killing them because they’ve gone so beastie that they don’t or won’t defend themselves properly.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Handy snaps at her as he gives her an exceedingly dark glare. One that doesn’t match his normal personality and disposition and causes Dandy to shift uneasily as she starts paying very careful attention to him.

Swift’s focus jumps from Dandy to Handy and she frowns as she lets out a sigh. She looks over at Dandy and says softly, “Actually… there is.”

Dandy’s eyes go wide as she looks between the two then stares at Swift. “Wait, what?! How do you know this? Where? Who did it?”

“I was infected,” Handy says bitterly as he closes his eyes and looks away. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Dandy looks at him and narrows her eyes as she says, “But… you don’t look it. How’d you-”

“Gearing cured Handy,” Swift adds as she lands next to Handy and starts nuzzling him.

Dandy’s eyes bug out as she blurts out, “Gearing?! How the hell would he know how to do something like that? You have any idea what a cure like that would be worth?!”

Swift looks at her and snaps, “There’s more important things than money you know!?”

Dandy shakes her head and waves it away as she says, “Forget that. Without raiders trying to eat everypony they can get their hooves on it’d free up resources to actually rebuild properly. Trade would be able to take place easier. Lives would be saved!” She looks between them and raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Why the hell would he keep something like that to himself? Why didn’t he at least talk to Bonesaw about it? Hell, the Collegiate would probably pay him for the information if that’s what it would take to get him there.” She shakes her head quickly as she says, “Something just doesn’t add up…”

Handy shrugs. “Don’t try to understand the mind of a machine, they aren’t ponies and don’t value pony lives like we do.” He waves it away. “It’s all math and calculations to them. For some reason he’s decided not to share it.” He shrugs again. “He’s obviously bugged and broken but there’s no fixing him.”

Swift opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by a screech from Dandy before she gets the chance to utter anything.

“Ex-cuuuse the fuck out of me, but who are you to deny his equinity?” Dandy demands as her eyes narrow at Handy.

Handy rolls his eyes as he directs his focus elsewhere. “Oh goddesses another one…” He waves a hoof weakly at Dandy and says with a blatantly condescending tone, “Look, I’ve had the same arguments with Gearing himself. And I’m tired of it, okay? A machine is a machine and it doesn’t matter how good the programming is, that is all it is and all it ever will be. Nothing more.” He waves her away with a hoof again before he adds, “I don’t care how good he is at plowing fields, it’s just in his programming, nothing to do with feelings. You wouldn’t call a PipBuck a pony, and it’s hella smarter than most ponies I know… so I don’t see what the hang up is on calling him what he is… a machine.”

“He’s not a machine!” Dandy retorts.

“The hell he’s not!” Handy replies as he looks at her. “I mean just taking one look at him and you can tell that; how could you possibly be confused? It’s not even a pony-like protectapony. He’s gotta be an early model or something.”

“Oh what the fuck… You just looked at him and just decided he’s a machine? I’ve done a hell of a lot more than just look, so I know!” Dandy says with a scowl.

Handy slaps a hoof over his face as he groans, “I don’t need to know about your masturbation habits with a robofetish, alright? Keep that shit to yourself.”

Dandy’s left eye starts twitching as she growls at him, “I meant talking to him, you simple minded jackass!”

Handy’s hoof slides down his face enough to look at her as he says flatly, “I’ve talked to him repeatedly, what about it? It’s always arguments and bullshit…”

“Machines don’t feel pain,” Dandy yells at him as she rears up and comes back down with both forehooves to smash the ground as she hops closer to him.

“Of course they do, they have their own damage indicators so they know when they need repairs,” Handy says with a rolls of his eyes.

Dandy sits down and stares at him as she says, “No, that’s a damage indicator. That’s not a sensation of pain.” She looks between the two and asks, “How many AI do you actually know. Have you ever even met any?”

Handy and Swift share eye contact for a moment as they try to figure out how to answer the question without giving too much away.

“Two,” Swift blurts out. “We’ve only met two.”

“Not including Gearing,” Dandy adds.

“One then,” Handy says as he follows Swift’s lead. “A Stable Tec AI that got herself a protectapony body. Why?”

“Because I’ve seen and know of several…” She waves off to the east as she says, “There’s Cerberus over in Meatlocker… While I wouldn’t trust him without his combat inhibitor, he’s still pretty loyal and, although he comes across as an absolute jackass, he’s still pretty decent overall… Then there’s a sentinel away far down south on the grounds of an old mansion. He constantly patrols the grounds, but doesn’t hurt anyone if he doesn‘t have to.” She smiles as she says, “He’s actually pretty sweet. He has his own flower garden that he tends to between patrols and he’s even been known to give a fresh flower to those he likes every now and then…” She shakes her head as she says, “And there’s several others I’ve run into with merchants, Steel Rangers, and others…” She raises a hoof as she says, “But out of every single one I’ve known, can you guess how many can sense pain? I mean true pain?” After a moment of not getting a reply, she continues, “Zero. Not a fucking one of them. They all know when they’ve been damaged, and at the worst of it it’s an annoyance for them. But that’s it. It doesn’t cause problems and they don’t have dread about getting injured. They don’t avoid injury and take longer to do a task simply to avoid injury, because they know they can just fix themselves afterwards. It’s not really an issue for them. It’s an inconvenience.”

“What are you talking about?” Handy asks with a raised eyebrow and a clueless expression across his face.

Dandy takes in a deep breath as she closes her eyes. She opens them and asks, calmly, “If a pony gets injured, and loses a leg, and they can’t heal him… So he ends up with a prosthetic… is he still a pony?”

Handy frowns as he says, “Yeah, they are. I know some look at it otherwise, but that’s just being a dick about it. He’s still a pony at heart.”

Dandy nods before she asks, “And how far does a pony have to go with prosthetics, how many do they have to have, before you no longer consider them a pony?”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he says, “They’re still a pony… it doesn’t matter. They were born a pony, they’re still a pony at heart.”

“So even if they’ve lost their entire body? To war, injury, disease, whatever? If they’ve lost everything. Whether all at once or as time went on, they’re still a pony?”

Handy nods and actually gets an indignant look across his face as he says, “Of course they are; why would you treat somepony like that just because of their misfortune or what they’ve been through?”

“Then why do you treat Gearing like a machine?!”

“Because he is!” Handy says with an overly exasperated tone of voice.

Dandy stares at him for a few moments, before looking back and forth between him and Swift. “No Handy… he’s not.” Her horn glows and in front of her a glowing number ‘1’ pops up in between them. “First, he actually feels pain… I’ve been with him when he’s been shot and burned. And it hurt him. A lot. But he fought on anyway. And, afterwards, he had to stop and recoup. A machine wouldn’t do that, they’d just carry on and repair along the way to their next task.” A number ‘2’ pops up next to the ‘1’. “Secondly, healing potions actually work on him… Tell me, when was the last time a skywagon busted and broke down, and you could just pour a healing potion on it, and it actually fixes itself…. Never, right? That’s because healing magic doesn’t work on machines.” She taps on the ground repeatedly. “But they work on Gearing!”

A glowing number ‘3’ pops up as the first two numbers slide to the side so it can take center stage. “Thirdly, his PipBuck?” She points at the ones Swift and Handy are wearing. “It actually shows his current relative health and it updates in real time.”

Swift looks at her and raises an eyebrow as she asks, “Okay, how do you know that? He’s really secretive about his PipBuck.”

Dandy looks at her deadpan and replies, “Because after fucking me into a delightfully buttery puddle of bliss, he cuddled with me. And even though I couldn’t really move and, as giddy as I was, I kept asking to make sure he was okay. And to shut me up he let me see his PipBuck’s health monitor.” She looks over at Handy and narrows her eyes as she says, “And, I was actually right. It ratted on him that he was still injured. But, as I watched, it was monitoring how quickly he was healing. And, in some cases, I could feel his body bend back into shape as the monitor showed the same thing. And, in case you didn’t know, a PipBuck doesn’t monitor machine health. Machine maintenance systems see it as damage, and have very limited separations between different classification.”

A large number four pops up in between her face and Handy’s as she says, “And lastly… He has fucking implants.” She stares at him for a few moments in silence before saying, “Machines don’t have implants. They have components. They have upgrades. Gearing has actual implants.” She taps on the ground a few times before she says, “And, to make matters worse, they aren’t all working. He wouldn’t say how many he has, or which ones aren’t working, but from what I’m getting I bet it’s several. And, most likely, very important ones.”

Handy looks her over and says softly, “That’s…. that’s bullshit… no way.”

Dandy leans towards him as she says softly, “I bet if his skin implant was still working, you wouldn’t be saying such stupid shit about him… because then he’d look like a pony at least.” She pulls back and says with a biting snarl, “Since that’s all you seem to pay attention to: looks.”

Swift crosses her forelegs as she asks, “Wait, hold on, time out.” She looks between them then leans towards Dandy as she asks, “What do you mean, ‘skin implant’? He’s never had one of those.”

Dandy looks at her and narrows her eyes before she asks, “And how long have you known him?”

“About three weeks,” Swift replies.

“About a month,” Handy says at the same time.

Dandy looks between them then leans in and asks softly, “You do realize he’s over two hundred years old… right?”

Handy and Swift share sideways glances as Handy says, “Well… that’s… I mean…”

“Gearing had said his implants were knocked out by some kind of weapon, and they haven’t all come back online yet,” Dandy adds. She shrugs as she says, “I don’t entirely get it, but he said something about his systems getting gummed up and having a hard time purging whatever it is out… and he explicitly mentioned his skin implant being one of the ones that’s not currently working.”

“Why’s that sound familiar?” Handy asks as he looks at Swift.

Swift lets out a sigh as she looks at him. “Because he’d said damn near the same thing to us before… remember? On the way to Megamac? When he almost fell on his face?”

“Oh…” Handy replies as his eyes start slowly growing in size.

“Yeah,” Dandy adds as she pulls back and stares at him for a moment. “So, you already knew… yet you still have been treating him like this?” She shakes her head. “Damn, it’s a good thing he’s not the violent vindictive type or he’d have probably killed you for constantly calling him a machine.” She shrugs. “If I was in his position, I probably would have already done it… It’s gotta suck bad enough being what he is… but having dumbasses constantly questioning his equinity?” She shakes her head. “Damn… a pony can only take so much of that shit before snapping.”

“What do you mean, ‘being what he is’?” Handy asks as he’s struggling to come to terms with what he’s hearing.

Dandy stares him in the eye, slowly narrowing her focus as she tries to will the information into his thick skull. “That Gearing is a pony… A cyber-pony… That he’s been through some deepest level of Tartarus type shit during the war that’s resulted in him getting so massively augmented.” She turns her head and snorts as she says, “I bet they used to consider him a hero back then. Considering what he’s survived and had to of done to warrant such massive augmentation…” She waves a hoof weakly at Handy as she adds, “They wouldn’t have wasted so much tech on some nopony, so he had to be somepony of importance to justify the expense.”

Handy slowly sits down as he says, “That… that does make sense…” He looks over at Swift and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Why didn’t he just say so? Why come up with that other nonsense?”

Dandy leans towards Handy and asks softly, “Tell me… How’d you start treating him when you first met him? Did you treat him like a pony, or like a machine that you could do what you wanted with and then just get pissy when it didn’t do as it was told? Did you treat him with some common civility, or like a slave? How about some basic goddess damned respect?” She waves a hoof at him limply, “I mean, I can guess the answer, based on your attitude, but maybe you should think about that. And, any problems you two have, think it through entirely, and how you’ve been treating him.” She sits back and puts a hoof to her chest as she closes her eyes and says softly, “Because when I first met him, I just talked to him normally. Struck up a conversation. And I found him to be a perfectly enjoyable equine for company and conversation.” She shrugs and waves the same hoof around as she adds, “And all it took was treating him with the same civility I’d give anypony else…”

Dandy stares at Handy, as he’s looking at the ground and trying to process everything. “Let me put it to you this way…” When Handy looks up at her, Dandy adds, “Gearing only has a problem with ponies that he has a problem with… Raiders, slavers, people trying to kill him or those around him… that sort of thing… so if you two are having a problem… maybe you should ask yourself why… because chances are, it’s on your side of things, not Gearing’s.”

She looks away and waves a hoof as she says quickly, “And no, I’m not simply saying that because he practically plowed me into a coma… I’ve had sex with assholes before, and I still call them out on their bullshit… sex is sex and it has nothing to do with sudden loyalty to them.”

“Uh huh… like who?” Swift asks with a smirk.

Dandy bobs her head around as she thinks. “Well, Starshine’s a perfect example. Hell, we still shack up every now and then even though they’re a manipulative condescending fuckwad.”

Handy looks at her and asks, “And just why would you keep going back to somepony like that? What’s he do, manipulate you into it?”

Dandy looks at him, then over at Swift and gives a mischievous grin as she says, “Starshine? Well she’s very good at being manipulative… and not just mentally, I mean she’s flexible enough that she can reach around back-”

Handy uses one forehoof to slap across his face and the other to wave at her quickly as he says, “Okay, okay, I get it… yesh.”

Dandy leans towards Handy and says softly, “Look, I don’t blame you for not wanting to listen to me because we’d just met… But you really should think things through regarding Gearing.” She pulls back and waves a hoof. “But, how are you going to feel about yourself when, and if, later on you find out I’m right?” She partially closes her eyes as she asks, “Didn’t you just comment about how it’s not right to treat somepony like that because of the misfortune they’ve been through? Well, you’ve been doing exactly that.” She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath before she says, “Look, I’m not trying to put you down or anything… You don’t even have to like Gearing, if your personalities are just butting heads like that… But… you owe it to yourself to sit down and have an actual conversation with Gearing. Find out what he’s really like. If you have to, pretend you’re talking to somepony inside of a set of power armor… Just treat him with the same level of civility that you give others, and I promise you, you’ll meet a Gearing you didn’t even know existed.”

Handy lets out a sigh before he asks, “And how do I owe it to myself? Why’s that so important?”

Dandy shrugs. “Maybe it’s not. But, I’ll tell ya, Gearing’s one hell of a great friend to have on your side.” She puts a hoof to her chest and says, “He jumped into oncoming fire, and used his own body to shield me from Cookie’s flamer… Despite how much it hurt him.” She tilts her head and asks softly, “Tell me… have you given him any reason to be willing to do the same for you?”

Handy looks at the ground as he says lamely, “That still doesn’t explain keeping the cure to himself though…”

Swift steps next to him, and envelopes him with a wing as she starts nuzzling his neck. “Handy… He only had enough for one dose…” Handy practically turns to stone as his eyes go wide. Swift nuzzles him some more as she says quietly, “There was only enough material in the lab to make a single dose…” She shakes her head and buries her face in his neck as she says, “He doesn’t know where to get the rest of the ingredients, and doesn’t even know what they are called. I don’t know all of the specifics behind it, but if he ever gets the right materials he can make more… As far as I know he’s been constantly looking wherever he goes.” She shrugs lightly, “And he won’t know it until he finds it and examines it.”

Dandy looks at her for a moment as she raises an eyebrow. “That’s weird… though I suppose if he’d found it once, he could find it again…” She shrugs. “And without actually having the cure, no one would believe him about it, and he probably knows this.” She runs a hoof through the mane on the back of her head as she sighs, “So he’s probably keeping his mouth shut until he can prove it… no reason to get everypony pissed off at him because he can’t deliver on such a promise.”

She sits down and starts tapping on her muzzle as she says softly, “Though that explains why he went ballistic when we found that raider nest… He’d already run into it before and didn’t want it to spread…”

Handy looks over at her and asks, “What do you mean? What’d he do?”

Dandy looks at him and gives a sheepish grin as she says, “He kind of… uh… turned the entire building into a crematorium… Incinerated the whole lot of them at once.”

Swift smirks as she looks in the direction of the sinkhole crater. “Well, maybe we can have Gearing help us out with that building then. Ask for some of his patented advice and just call it a day next to the bonfire.”

Dandy looks between them. “You’re not going to feel morally conflicted knowing there’s a cure?”

Handy looks at her and gives her a crestfallen expression as he says quietly, “As somepony who’s been through it… I can tell you… I’d rather be dead than be infected with that shit. If there’s no cure, which without the supplies there isn’t… it’s kinder to put them down instead.”

Dandy nods as she turns and starts walking along the path again. “Well, that’ll be helpful.” She smiles over her shoulder at Handy as she says, “Hey, think of it this way, you and Gearing can bond over the campfire.”

Handy scrunches up his nose and mouth to the side as he says with disgust, “I’d rather a campfire I’m sitting near not involve burning corpses… I don’t think that’s an atmosphere I’d want to use to try and get all chummy with someone around.”

Swift and Dandy snicker as they continue on along the path laid out by Exuberance.

A short time later, when they are coming down the other side of the detour’s arc, Dandy lets out a groan as she swears, “Awwwww fuck.”

Swift flies up from where she’d been talking to Handy and hovers over her as she asks, “What’s up?”

Dandy stops in her tracks and points off not far in front of them as she asks, “Somewhere around here is where we’re supposed to be going through, right?”

Swift hovers in front of her, and looks where she’s pointing as she says, “Yeah, why are you- fuck…” She finishes with a mutter.

Handy starts walking closer as he asks, “What’s going on?”

“Stay right there, Handy!” Swift commands as she points a hoof blindly in his general direction. But, despite getting a sour look on his face, he does actually comply.

Though he also expects an answer pretty damn quick.

And he gets it as Dandy’s horn glows and, not far ahead in the dead grass, a traffic cone gets lifted up in the air. And, under the traffic cone, is a nice collection of grenades, with a wire connected from them and leading to a pile of bricks on the other side of the barely worn path.

Swift starts flying and hovering over the area in general as she says, “Yeah, this area’s booby trapped pretty good…” She flies a bit more to the group’s left and her legs hang down limply as she lets out a sigh. “Yeah… and there’s a lot of blood over here… like… way too much blood for anypony to walk away from under their own power… and pieces of clothing and other small bits of gore.” She hovers in the air, getting as close to the ground as she can without touching down as she adds, “I see ammo casings, and other signs of a fight too… Yeah, this was some kinda ambush.”

Dandy carefully takes apart the grenade bouquet, and puts each newly acquired metal apple in her bag after making sure all of the stems are properly secured and attached. “Any idea how long ago it’s been?”

Swift pulls back a bit higher as she bobs her head around. “Rain aside, even with it getting spread out, it still changes color and coagulates… From the color and look of it… I’d say a couple days, max, no more.” She slowly starts turning and following a set of drag marks in the dead vegetation where bits of plants are smeared with blood here and there and the vegetation has been bulldozed over by something getting dragged over the ground.

“Don’t tell me…” Handy says with a groan as he watches Swift fly through the air.

Swift lifts her head up and looks in the general direction of the trail as a frown crosses her muzzle. “Afraid so...”

Dandy follows the direction both of their muzzles are pointed and lets out a sigh as she says, “Fucking raiders…”

Swift shrugs as she says, “Well, looks like they’ve been pushed up higher on our priority list.”

Handy looks at her and raises an eyebrow as he asks, “What makes you think this was the caravan? Or that he’s even still alive, if it’s not?”

Dandy looks at Handy and grins as she asks, “Does it matter? I mean, this can’t just be a big coincidence. Considering the timing, location, etcetera. But, even if it’s not, it’s the strongest lead we have now. And, if he’s dead, well…” She shrugs as she looks up at Swift. “I believe we agreed on a competition on how many skulls we could pop?”

Swift smirks as she flies around in figure eight patterns above them. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Handy points off towards the sink hole in the distance as he asks, “Well, how are we getting over there? They probably have traps going this whole way.”

Swift nods as she looks around. “Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it.” She points back the way they had come. “Let’s go back and skirt around the sink hole. We should be able to come at them from a safer angle that way.”

Handy’s eyes go wide as he asks, “D- didn’t you say the whole area was unstable?”

Dandy starts walking by him, going towards the way they’d come, as she asks, “Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained… right? Besides, I really need to kill something right now…”

Swift giggles as she flies past Handy, and directs her muzzle towards him while keeping her eyes trained on Dandy, and says mischievously, “Yeah, those mood swings can be such a bitch, can’t they?”

Dandy hops up in the air and lets out a high pitched squeak before she comes down and slams her forehooves in the ground. She starts stomping with each hoof as she says repeatedly, “Killkillkill killkillkill!” and starts marching away with a scowl on her face.

After carefully getting out of the ambush zone by having Swift lead the way back where they’d come from, the group suddenly changes course in towards the sinkhole just past the apex of the detour’s arc. She continues leading the way by hovering just off the ground as she carefully keeps an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Which is a slow grueling process given the amount of rubble, debris, and out right trash littered everywhere. Anything that looks like it is large enough to hold a mine, grenade, or other type of bomb gets lifted or moved by Dandy at a distance using her levitation field. And Dandy is more than happy to comply. As it’s not only a matter of general safety, but the couple fragmentation mines that she uncovers, then disarms, make for welcome job bonus pay.

While walking through an alleyway between the buildings that are blocking their view of the raider nest Swift is taking them to, and the buildings blocking their view of the constantly growing closer sinkhole, Swift decides to take another route.

The alleyway ahead continues to narrow with various junk and debris, and some of it doesn’t look as incidental as she would otherwise like. She especially doesn’t like the random refrigerator sitting there with its door closed and pushed up next to a dumpster. She could fly up and over it, but two of the group are bound to the ground, and there’s no telling what might be over there. So she opts for caution.

A move that is praised by Handy as they turn and head into the stone building through a back door that’s missing it’s actual door.

Once inside of the old building, they quickly look around to decide which way they should go. Water damage has made part of the wall separating this old shop from the one next door fall down around the middle point. Making the closed and, oddly, locked door right next to it not only unnecessary but completely useless. Whatever was in the shop for sale some two centuries before is completely unknown as the metal shelves, at least what are left, are entirely bare. As they are passing through it, Dandy makes a quick detour to the counter along the left wall as Handy and Swift go towards the hole in the wall on the right.

A musical chiming sound echoes out, and draws both of Handy and Swift’s attentions as they are climbing the rubble pile that marks the path into the next building.

Dandy gives them a sheepish grin as she’s hovering a bobby pin and screwdriver in the air in front of herself. She quickly stows them, then hovers out the contents of the cash register as the other two stare at her in disbelief. After floating the bits, pair of bobby pins, and a pack of two century old gum out of the cash register and into her bag, she starts following them into the next building. “Hey. It’s here. I’m here. That can’t be a coincidence,” she says with a growing grin as she’s climbing up and over the rubble pile after them.

“You know, if you loot everything on the way in, you might be too bogged down to run away if we run into some real trouble,” Swift says with a smirk.

Dandy grins at her and shrugs as she says, “Hey… the day I find something in a cash register that’s so heavy, that it makes me have a problem walking… is the day I fucking retire… Because the only way I’m carrying something so heavy is if it’s actually worth the weight… So, yes, please, let me find a giant mound of gold. I will gladly suffer through such hardship!”

They share a snicker as they continue through the shop next door, but then Swift zips over and wraps a hoof around Handy’s neck, putting him into a chokehold as she pulls him back into an unwilling reared up position. His eyes bug out and he starts kicking feebly as he gurgles and chokes as he’s steadily pulled up and backwards and almost flat on his back. After actually getting him on his back, at her hindhooves, she lessens her grip and he chokes and yells, “The hell was that for?!”

“She just saved your life… You need to be more careful, Handy,” Dandy says as she trots over quickly and looks at the doorway that Handy was just about to enter. Handy looks over at her as he slowly rubs his neck with a forehoof and arcs an eyebrow. As he’s watching, Dandy’s horn glows and a matching overglow comes from the other side of the door as a few mechanical noises squeak out. A moment later she hovers in a double barreled shotgun from the other side of the door that had been attached to the wall, and sets it at their hooves. A moment later she disconnects the tensioning mechanism that had been connected to the trip wire that was laying across the threshold that Handy was about to set off.

As Handy’s eyes bug out, and he’s shocked enough that he pauses rubbing his neck, he stares at the device that had been set up to shoot someone in the head if they walked through.

Dandy starts stowing the items as she says softly, “Ya need to watch where you’re going through here. Walk slower if ya have to. These things aren’t anypony’s friend.”

Handy frowns and looks away as he says softly, “My eyes aren’t as good as Swift’s. She’s always had good vision.”

Swift pulls him up into a seated potion, then leans over and gives him a soft sweet kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I got you…” She gives him another kiss before she smirks. “I told you a while ago, I’d take care of you.” She helps him up to his hooves and grins as she says, “No one’s aloud to take you out but me.”

Handy smirks and rubs his neck some with a hoof before he asks, “Couldn’t you have just said something instead of trying to string me up with your forelegs?”

Swift reaches over and gently rubs his mane, slowly becoming more abrasive as she says, “Didn’t have time for you asking ‘Why?’ first, so no.”

The pair stare at each other and start snickering before they continue on and begin picking their way through the slowly crumbling buildings. Again Swift takes the lead as she keeps an eye out for traps and tripwires in the dim light inside of the building. They end up having to wind up and through a few of the floors in some instances to find the next crossing point without going outside otherwise. And after more time than they’d thought they’d have to spend just to get there, they make their way out of one of the more intact structures, and into a building that has already mostly collapsed and disappeared.

Most of it is hollowed out and only the outside shell remains, and even that isn’t entirely whole as the southeast corner has entirely fallen down and collapsed into a pile of blocky rubble.

Dandy looks back through the collapsed wall, out into the massive sinkhole not far away, and asks, “Well, what do you guys wanna do from here?”

Swift looks across the street at the old government building four stories tall and lets out a sigh. “Yeah, we probably want to figure that out now…”

“That is a lot of red,” Handy mutters as he turns his head back and forth and peeks out from their current vantage point at the same building Swift is looking at.

Dandy turns back towards them and floats out the pack of gum she’d claimed from the cash register and pops one of the pieces in her mouth as she looks across the street. Before she even starts chewing she comments, “Definitely raiders too, judging by their choice of decorations.”

Handy looks at her and the pack of gum, before he asks, “You seriously going to eat that?”

Dandy looks at him and asks with a grin, “Why? Want a piece?”

Handy gets a disgusted look on his face, and shakes his head as he pulls away from her.

Swift grins at her and raises a hoof, getting a piece of bubblegum magically flicked into her mouth in return.

Swift and Dandy sit there chewing gum as they slowly look the building over, and Handy looks at them with an incredulous scowl.

Dandy slowly blows a bubble, lets it pop, and then pulls it back in to continue chewing. After a few vigorous chomps she says, “Either that place is packed to the gills with raiders, or it’s going to be a wide open space full of them that’s going to make it a massive battleground…” She looks across the street where a park bench has been up righted, and somepony has been splayed out on it, with their body, what’s left of it anyway, pinned to the table with spikes made of rebar. The guts of the buck or mare, it’s impossible to tell from what’s left, have been spread out and hang around like garlands from one spike to the next. Though the majority of the flesh seems to have been removed from the body before it was strung up and it’s mostly a rotting skeleton at this point.

“I don’t need your fancy PipBucks to tell me this place is absolutely lousy with raiders…” She chews a few more times slowly, deliberately, as she says in a groaning tone, “This is gonna be fuuuuun.”

Swift pops a bubble before she asks, “Hey, I thought you wanted in on the contest, you’re not getting cold hooves now are ya?”

Dandy grins at her as she says, “No way. I’m just not a fan of potentially going against more raiders than I’m prepared to handle.” She pops a gum bubble before she says slowly as she tries to do the mental math, “I’m not sure I brought enough ammo with me for this…”

Swift looks at her sideways and grins as she says, “Well, that just means me and Handy will be taking care of more… If you can’t take the rest of them on, that gives us a bit of an advantage, then. Doesn’t it?”

Handy pulls out his Proditor’s Gladius and looks at it as he says, “Well, thanks to those Wild Ones, I have plenty of 12.7mm ammo for my pistol. So there’s that at least.”

“Not going to just crush their head in with that mallet of yours?” Dandy asks as she points at Handy’s custom pneumatic massive hammer on his back.

Handy bobs his head around. “It’s great for a couple at once, but I have no intention of getting swarmed and eaten alive. Besides, this’ll let me fight on the run if I need to.” He looks over at the building and lets out a sigh. “Something tells me there’s going to be a lot of running and fighting coming soon.”

The other two look at the building and nod simultaneously in agreement as they slowly examine the building turned macabre museum.

Handy takes in a deep breath and says softly, “With all of these raiders, I just wish we had a way to thin them out. There’s no way we’re going to be able to just sneak in, get Lodestar, if he’s in there, and get back out without fighting them. And once we start it, it’s going to be one hell of a party. They’re like roaches and will be coming out of the woodwork…” He sighs as he says, “We just need them all gone. Maybe find a way to get rid of them all.”

Dandy’s apple flavored bubblegum bubble prematurely pops, and her eyes jump to their max size in sync with both Handy and Swift’s, as a breathy synthetically modulated voice speaks from mere feet right behind them.

“Somepony call for an exterminator?”

Footnote: ‘credential matrix’, sync failure. Retrying. . . please stand by. . .. .

Error . . .

Fragmentation errors in ‘credential matrix’ detected . . .

Error . . .

Parity check failure . . .

!!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

76 Aglow With Possibilities

As Handy and Gearing are walking along Swift flies over head and keeps watch over their immediate area. Even more so than usual it’s not only appreciated, but needed. Because as much teasing as Swift has been giving Handy, he is legitimately not well and is in no condition to be trying to pay attention to anything other than his own breathing. And then Gearing isn’t really in any condition to be fighting either. His healing is still at a ridiculous rate, comparatively speaking, but he’s still got a long way to go and the left side of his head is back to being a bandage wrapped misshapen dent. Add on to that their overall progress is actually being slowed down because Gearing’s left foreleg is having such a problem holding him that he routinely doesn’t even use it while he’s walking, and they are right ripe for a flank kicking by an ambush.

They only manage to make it a couple of blocks before a sporadic outburst of gunfire breaks out a street or two over from them and ruins any hope of an uneventful trip.

As Swift swoops down to join Handy and Gearing on the ground, they all go for cover and quickly start looking around, and Gearing asks, “Are my ears that fucked up that I’m only now hearing that?”

Swift shakes her head as she says, “Nope, not just you. This just started.”

Handy peeks out from behind a dumpster and asks, “So a fight just broke out?”

Swift looks around as she nods and then glances over at Gearing. “Yeah, seems like it, but should we even get involved?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Well, given all that I know in the area… There’s about a 95% chance that there’s at least one group we would have no problem putting down, and an 80% chance that there’s at least one group that we’d actually want to help.”

Swift smirks before she asks, “And what’s with the fifteen difference?”

Gearing looks over at her and grins as he says, “That’s the odds that both groups are shit we’d want to wipe out… Slavers and raiders for example…”

Swift grins as she starts hopping up and down and fluttering her wings. “It would be a good enough reason to get some exercise in. Especially since I’ve been missing out on all the fun lately.”

“Is this really necessary?” Handy asks with a groan.

Gearing looks over at him and shrugs. “They might have some supplies we could use.”

Handy lets out a long low groan as he hangs his head. At the tail end of it he hocks up a rough sounding bit of mucus and spits a blob of snot out onto the broken concrete around his hooves.

“Good enough for me!” Swift squeals as she peels off and starts gaining altitude via tight circles to build up speed before she zips off in the direction she wants.

* * *

A group of traveling merchants have retreated into a half collapsed building, with their pair of pack Brahmin, and use the rubble and walls as a defensive position as several attackers close in from various directions. The overly excited ponies attacking them have a variety of weapons and armor. Most of them have some sort of spiky bits adorning themselves with even some rubber and chains on them. Most of it isn’t really as functional as armor as it is for some kind of intimidation tactic. The mare with rebar sticking out of rubber shoulder pads made of old tires, with a few smaller skulls skewered onto the rebar, is an excellent example of this fear-chic they are going for.

But the attackers aren’t all entirely stupid, despite the way they look. They’ve spread out and are actively using cover as much as they can to avoid weapons fire. The ones that have firearms are shooting from their own positions behind stone or wagon husks. While the ones with melee weapons zip around at blistering speeds as they close the distance to the building in question and take advantage of all of the blind spots along the way.

The wild eyed and macabrely dressed ponies have taken over the buildings all around where the merchants are. A couple of them use the other buildings to breach the one where the traders are hiding by jumping across gaps or going through holes in the mutual walls. This has caused the merchants to spread out on all three floors and even have a couple on the roof to keep them from getting in that way.

A blue blur zips in from above, across from the besieged ruin, and Swift delivers a pair of hoof strikes to the mare trying to sight in down a rifle at the merchants across the street. Power hoof included. As the other wild eyed ponies with her turn after hearing the scream, and feeling the hot blood splat on them, Swift gleefully jumps off the first one and goes after the rest, whipping around and raining down strike after strike with expert precision. Because even if she wasn’t as skilled as she is, her PipBuck’s targeting capabilities make her even more deadly. But as much damage as she’s causing, she’s not really trying to kill them at the moment. She’s simply trying to spread the hurt around enough to draw some attention.

Killing comes later, now she just wants to pull some of the heat off of the ones being surrounded.

At ground level, in front of the next building over, Handy sits down next to a burnt out wagon and pulls his Proditor’s Gladius out of his mouth and takes in a few deep breaths. He pulls out another shop rag and gets ready to blow his nose as he groans, “I theel like thit… Ah’m too thick for thith bullthit…”

“AaaaaggggGGGHHHHHHH!” a buck screams as he comes flying down to ground level from the top of the third floor, where Swift just apple bucked him right off the edge, and he lands on the wagon next to where Handy is sitting with an ‘Oof’. The buck impacts into the wagon, denting the metal slightly, but has enough inertia to flip over and off right in front of Handy.

“Ow,” the buck moans as he lays in the dirt where he was thrown.

Handy stares at him for a second, taking note of the metal and rubber bits the buck is wearing, before he plops his Gladius back into his mouth and shoots the downed buck.

“Aggh!” the buck screams as he jumps from the impact.

And Handy shoots him again.

“Uhg!” the buck blurts out with a recoil.

And yet again Handy shoots him.

“Urk-” the buck chokes out.

Handy shoots him three more times in quick succession as he stares at him. After a few moments of the buck not making any more noise Handy removes the gun from his mouth and walks over as he repeats, “Ah’m too thick to beh puttin’ up wit’ yer bullthit…” He leans over, grabs the bit of fabric near the buck’s side, the only bit that’s filthy, but not bloody, and starts using it to blow his nose. His tail whips out backwards with each honk of his nose, as blob after blob of mucus comes out of his snoot. Afterwards he uses the last bit of clean cloth on this side to wipe off his nose before he straightens up.

Handy takes in a deep breath and lets out a sigh as he smiles. “Much better now! I can breathe!” He looks down, sees the greenish yellow atrocity that he’s created, and blurts out, “Did all of that come out of me?!” He wrinkles up his nose as he says, “That’s just disgusting… I don’t wanna see that…” Then he grabs the dead buck and rolls their body over so he’s dusty side up and snot side down. He pats on the buck’s side and smiles. “Better… Wait… eewww.” He notices he’d gotten some of the snot on his forehoof and quickly starts wiping it off onto the rubber ‘armor’ the buck is wearing as he looks around and tries to figure out what he should be doing.

A unicorn mare in a caravanner jacket comes flying out of the second floor of the building they’re in with another mare on top of her and covered in spikes and rubber. The two hit the ground and tumble, but the peach colored mare in the caravanner outfit ends up getting pinned as the fanatical mare on top of her didn’t even seem to react to the fall very much. And the glazed glee-filled wide eyed look gives a good possible explanation for it: way too many drugs to feel anything. They kick and strike at each other as they roll back and forth and the caravanner mare tries her best to avoid the knife that the one on top of her keeps trying to use on her. But eventually the persistent attacker manages to land a strike and sends a spray of blood out to the side as the caravanner lets out a blood curdling scream that pierces the battleground with heart wrenching clarity.

“I’m gon gutcha, lil fish!” her attacker gloats as she puts the knife in her fetlock and starts licking the blood off of it. “I’m gon have fun listenin’ to you scre-”

A large hunk of masonry impacts the ground just to her right, sailing in from far to her right, and plows right into the drugged up mare and entirely cutting off her gloating in the process. But the mass of stone and mortar doesn’t even slow down as it takes her with it and brutalizes her more by grinding her into the cracked roadway before smashing into the wall of the building next door.

Gearing brings himself back down to all four hooves, from where he’d reared up for the throw, before he starts walking over at a fast trot. “I’m in no mood to be dealing with these crazy fucks. I have too much pent up frustration to be nice to anyone right now.” Gearing hops over on top of the peach unicorn, straddling her as he looks down at her, and her wild-eyed stare just gets worse as someone new stands over her. She’s holding a hoof to the left side of her neck and Gearing can see blood pouring out of it, spurting out in a few instances where her grip just doesn’t seem to be adequate. Gearing reaches for her throat, and the panic just increases in her eyes as she tries to scream, but can’t. She feebly tries to scoot back away from him, but it’s no use as he positions himself with her in such a way that she can’t get away anymore. He pushes her hooves out of the way from where she’s holding her neck, earning another violent shake from her as she’s panicking, and presses his own hoof over, and into, the wound. He uses his left foreleg to grab her snout and asks, “You got any potions?”

In a bid to save her own life, and give him what she has, she nods quickly and waves her right foreleg at a side pouch she has attached under her duster.

Gearing reaches down and starts opening up the pouches with his left forehoof but gets interrupted.

Gearing groans and winces as bullets impact into the middle of his back and right shoulder. He looks up and snarls as he sees the offending attacker shooting at him from the second floor, and a third bullet hits him in the forehead, near his right ear, and ricochets off to the side. His head barely moves from the impact and the snarl on his face just gets that much bigger.

The buck with the rifle lowers his weapon and his eyes go wide as he locks eyes with Gearing and sees the absolute menacing murderous intent being directed his way. And then he starts to turn around to flee as he decides he has better things to be doing than shooting at Gearing right now. Like living. That sounds like an excellent idea to him as he starts to spring around to bolt away.

Time slows to a stand still as Gearing activates SATS.

Select Target: 95% chance of success.

Confirm.

Confirm.

Gearing chucks the blade that the mare he’d just crushed with a large pile of rubble had dropped, and it strikes true: pointed end right into the side of the buck. With the attack over the spell ends.

The buck wavers from the impact, but also loses his balance as he was reared up right on the edge of the building. The strike, and shock of it, causes him to fall right off the building and come to a rough impact to their left. The buck’s hind leg snaps and part of it folds under his body, eliciting a shrill scream as he crumples into a heap. He opens his eyes and looks up at Gearing, who’s looming over both him and the peach mare, and screams with every ounce of sincerity his body can muster, “I’m sorr-ee-!”

A downward thrust of Gearing’s left foreleg cuts him off mid plea as Gearing demonstrates that he really isn’t in the mood to play nice right now. He flicks the bloody mess off of his hoof then leans over as he starts gingerly using his left wing to open up and dig around inside of the mare’s pouch. He ends up tossing item after item to the side, before he finds the bottles that he’s looking for.

While she’s watching he pops the top, and then transfers the bottle to his mouth. And she can’t help a shivering smile crossing her lips as she hopes that now he’ll leave her be. But then her eyes go wide in genuine surprise as he grabs the back of her head with his left forehoof, practically cradling it, and leans down with the potion bottle in his mouth and practically seems like he’s going to kiss her with it. But once the liquid starts pouring into her mouth, and the second she starts tasting it, she locks her lips around it and decides if it’s going to take a kiss to get part of the potion, she’ll oblige.

But as soon as she grabs hold of the bottle, he lets go, and she quickly starts guzzling down as much as she can before he changes his mind on sharing. She’s further surprised, and confused, when she opens her eyes and sees that he has a round two ready, but she gladly partakes in it exactly how it’s offered. After she’s drank all of the second potion she starts coughing and spits the bottle off to the side as she groans and closes her eyes.

The entire time Gearing doesn’t change his position anymore. He keeps hold of her throat, holding her there, and supporting her head, but not moving at all otherwise. She’d just seen him crush a full grown buck’s head in with a single kick. She’s not interested in trying to fight him. He’s holding her down with a single hoof and there’s not much she can do. So she tries to think of what she can offer him to let her go and her mind reels with the possibility that he’s some sort of slaver with nefarious intentions in mind. Especially with the way the two of them are currently positioned: him practically mounting her.

Swift flies by and starts circling around overhead before she laughs and asks, “What the hell, Gearing, I thought you didn’t feel up to fighting? Why’d you kill two then? Or is it you just couldn’t let me have all the fun, is that it?” She starts giggling and prancing around in mid air as she says with a slight tune to it, “Ooohh yeaaah… I gott’em with the leeeft and riiiight, my hooves’, my speed’s, outta siiiiight…”

“I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing…” Gearing looks up at her and smirks as he asks, “Working on your own theme song?”

Swift grins even wider as she continues prancing around mid air. “Nah, that’s one of Nahlah’s that she came up with a while ago… It’s kinda catchy…” She lowers to get closer and folds her forelegs over her chest as she asks, “How’s it look?”

Gearing bobs his head side to side as he says, “Bad… The fall was rough, and then there’s the throat cut… but she should be okay now… I gave her two healing potions.” He eases off the pressure on her throat and carefully peeks under his hoof. Millimeter by millimeter he watches the blood on her peach fur and tries to judge how much of it is fresh free flowing blood and how much of it had already leaked out of her. After a bit, and nothing squirting out over anyone, he pulls his hoof back enough that he can get his wingtip up and start examining her fur. The cut is still present, it’s mostly healed and still closing up, but the majority of the damage seems to be repaired. Gearing slowly lays her back down on the ground, then removes his hoof from the back of her head to let her lay down entirely, as he says, “Easy now. Lay down for a few minutes, you’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re gonna be sore for a while too.”

Handy walks up slowly and puts his pistol back in its holster before he looks them over and sits down as he asks, “What’s going on?”

An older straw yellow stallion comes out of the ruined building where all the excitement has been focused on as he’s putting a rifle over his back and grumbling, “We were getting our keisters kicked before you folks showed up. Thanks for the help!”

“Hey, Roadie, what’s with you guys and getting cornered in buildings? Especially one like this one?” Gearing asks from the side where he sits down next to the mare he’d helped.

Short Road shakes his head and then looks over at Gearing. It only takes a cursory look, even in the early morning light, for him to notice and recognize Gearing’s wings. His eyes go wide before he asks, “Whoa! It’s you?!” The smile on his face explodes as he asks, “What are y’all doing way out here?!”

Gearing waves a hoof around as he shrugs. “Well, you’d said I should go talk to Bottlecap if I wanted information... so… I did… and it’s been pretty fruitful at that!”

Short Road starts laughing as he sits down on the rubble. “So I’ve heard!” He looks between them before he asks, “Did you really bring in a whole caravan’s worth of weapons on your own?!” Gearing grins and nods, causing Roadie to laugh even louder. “Everyone on the trail’s talking about that one!”

Swift looks over at Gearing and waves a hoof about the area. “You know these ponies, Gearing?”

Gearing nods and waves around at the two and those beyond who are coming out of the building. “They’re members of the Finders and work for Bottlecap.” He looks at Short Road as he asks, “What are you doing this far this way though?”

Short Road shrugs before he says, “Bottlecap’s been expanding the routes. I was going to swing by the Arena and see if I can swap anything with the Reapers or wannabes…” He chuckles a bit before he says, “My name might be Short Road, but the road I’ve been trotting has been growing mighty loooong indeed.”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Fair enough.” He pauses before he looks over at Short Road and asks, “How is everyone?”

Short Road frowns as he says, “We’ve got a couple in rough shape, lost two… one in the initial ambush and another up top. When he got jumped by a couple of the drugged up lunatics that jumped from the other buildings.” He looks around as he frowns. “At least they’re more like the normal crazy types like you run into around down south, and not the cannibalistic psychos… So there’s that.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gearing says as he dips his head.

The peach mare at Gearing’s hooves gapes at him as the voice and tone strike an all too familiar chord with her and her eyes instantly shoot to their widest possible. “Wait, it’s you?!”

Gearing looks down at her and then puts a hoof to his right cheek in mock shock. “Oh, wait, it’s you?!” Earning a couple snickers from Swift and Short Road before he gives her a soft smile and asks, “Still got the necklace?”

Her eyes flinch painfully wider for a moment and she quickly starts patting around on her neckline and chest with a hoof. She reaches into her caravanner traveling clothes and pulls it back as her horn glows. A second later, out pops the silver locket with the ivy motif enveloped in the over glow from her levitation. She gives it a soft kiss and holds it to the side of her cheek before looking up at Gearing and saying with a soft choke, “Don’t go anywhere without it. She’s always close to my heart.”

Swift looks back and forth before waving toward the building they are sheltered in and commenting, “You guys catch up. I’m going to look around and see if any of these bastards have anything we can use.”

Short Road takes his hat off, puts it over his chest, and dips his head as he says, “Go ahead, you’ll get no complaints from me after saving our hides!”

Swift spins around, looks at Handy, and rolls her eyes before she points at the building again. “Handy… go lay down… you look pathetic…”

Handy looks up at her and whines, “I told ya ah dun theel good!”

Swift giggles, blows him a kiss, and zips off as she starts flying around and checking her freshly minted corpses.

Handy heads into the building past Short Road, walks around a bit on the first floor, and then shuts himself in a closet as he groans, “Jud lemmie ‘lone tho I can die already…” A few moments after the rickety wooden door is shut the group all turn and look in its direction as the honking snorting sounds of Handy blowing his nose comes pouring out through the door.

Gearing shakes his head before he looks over at Short Road. “You guys are traders, right?”

Short Road puts on his hat as he gives a weak smile, “That’s what they tell me.”

“You have any supplies with you?”

Short Road’s muzzle splits into a wide smile before he turns his head just a bit to whistle behind him. As a pair of Brahmin start walking forward from their hiding places in the back of the building, their backs heavily laden with sacks, boxes, chests, and some wares simply tied onto the others, Roadie asks, “What are ya looking for?”

* * *

After finally completing her circuit checking all of the corpses she’d made, which took some time because she’d been so excited to get in some proper exercise she was simply going from location to location without paying too much attention to where she had left them and only had a number to go by, Swift returns to the half collapsed building with a pair of saddle bags hanging from her forehooves.

She finds the peach unicorn mare sitting outside, leaning against a concrete support pillar, while looking at a silver locket that she has open. She glances up at Swift fluttering in front of her and quickly closes the locket, holding it to herself before she asks, “Get everything you wanted?”

Swift shrugs as she lands and drops the bags onto the ground. “Not really. But I’m hoping we can at least trade this off to get what we need.”

The caravanner tilts her head as she asks, “Well, what do ya need?”

Swift waves over towards the arena as she says, “I’m hoping to pick up some potions and healing items from over at the arena… Hopefully with how much they end up fighting, that means they have a decent supply of medical supplies.”

“For the blue buck?” the mare asks as she starts mindlessly playing with the locket and feeling its texture against her skin.

Swift shrugs but then nods. “Yeah. Sort of. My husband’s sick, I know that, but he’ll get over it in time. I’m more worried about the gold colored smart ass.” She shrugs and grins as she says, “He acts all big and tough, but he’s in pretty rough shape.”

The peach mare smiles as she twirls the necklace’s locket. “I’m pretty sure it’s more than just an act. He’ll probably be fine. He’s crazy from what I hear.” Her muzzle splits into a wide grin and her eyes partially close as she says softly, “But the good kind of crazy… my kind of crazy.”

Swift rolls her eyes as she says, “Oh great… get in line sister…” She starts looking around as she asks, “Where are they at?”

The peach mare points into the next building as she says, “Your gold friend’s over there talking to Roadie. Seems like that conversation’s going to take forever.” She points behind her as she adds, “The blue buck, your husband? He’s in here… I think he fell asleep in the closet.”

Swift starts walking past her as she giggles. “Yeah… he always wants to go lay about and hide from everypony when he’s got the dreaded Buck Flu…”

The peach mare raises an eyebrow as she asks, “‘Buck flu’?”

Swift gives her a wink as she says, “Oh, you know, the Buck Flu… or as me and you would normally call it if we got it ‘The Common Cold’.” She gives the mare a wide grin. The two share a giggle as the peach mare shakes her head at the ridiculousness while Swift continues on into the building.

A few seconds later the peach mare turns around and looks inside as she hears Swift yell, “I said get out here already!”

“Noooo I don’t want to! Leave me alone!”

“Oh come on, you big baby, we gotta go!”

“Lemmie alone, I wanna sleep!”

“You can’t just stay here!”

“Yes I can!”

“What, you just gonna laze about until you die?!”

“Maybe! I’ll probably feel better then!”

“Oh that’s enough of this bullshit! Come on let’s go see if we can get you a doctor at the arena!”

The noise of the scuffle that ensues pours out of the building and Handy yells out, “No! Lemmie alone! I don’t wanna go! Just let me die already! Hey, what are you- You can’t- Stop! Put me down!”

The peach mare stares at the noise and then starts smirking as she sees Swift coming back out of the building with Handy thrown over her back and one of his forelegs held to her chest in some kind of wrestling lock.

As they are passing, Handy whines, “I was comfortable… why’d you have to go and wake me up…”

“Just go to sleep already, we’ll be there soon enough,” Swift says with an amused roll of her eyes.

The peach mare snickers and puts both forehooves to her muzzle as she tries to suppress the laugh that starts bubbling up within her. But that doesn’t last long before she’s causing the street to echo with her laughter as her eyes tear up.

“Why’s everypony picking on me today…” Handy moans as he lies sprawled out like a sack of flour across Swift’s back with his head leaning over her side. He coughs a few times and then hocks up a huge greenish loogey as Swift makes it to the street.

Swift turns around and yells out, “Hey, Gearing, can we get out of here already? I gotta get my fourth child to the doctor! I’m heading to the arena!”

Gearing’s voice yells out from the next building over, “Go ahead and head that way, I’ll catch up in a bit.”

Swift frowns as she stares at the broken window Gearing’s voice came out of. “Oh hell no! I’m already dealing with one of you whiny ass bucks; get your ass out here too! I’m not letting you get out of seeing Big! You’ve put this off long enough!”

“Big? Who’s ‘Big’?” The peach mare’s eyes go wide before she asks quietly, “You mean Big Daddy wants to see him? He in trouble or something?”

Swift looks over at her with a smirk and shrugs before she says, “Not any serious trouble, I don’t think. But he’s been avoiding Big for a while and the longer he takes, the worse this is probably gonna be.”

The peach mare looks off to the side as she says, “I can’t blame him for wanting to avoid it, but you’re right… Really shouldn’t make him wait…”

Gearing’s voice comes from the doorway of the next building, “Alright, Roadie, thanks for the help. I’ll see you around. Take care of yourselves!” Then he starts walking out with his head turned back to look over his left shoulder behind himself as he adds, “And make sure Bottlecap updates the list for me. Thanks again!”

Swift rolls her eyes as she’s already turning around and starts walking away. “It’s about time, come on… And could you grab those two bags there, we’ll need the stuff inside to trade at the Arena.”

“Sure thing!” Gearing happily, and clearly, chirps as he zips over the pile of rubble, grabs the bags, throws them over his back, and takes off after her by quickly taking flight. As he’s casually flying over her and a bit behind he asks, “You wanna switch and I carry him? You guys are probably exhausted… Hell, I can carry both of you if you want.”

Swift shakes her head. “Nah, he hates flying besides-” She stops and scrunches up her nose as she tilts her head just enough to see the edge of his glowing brass form in the corner of her peripheral vision. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to fly for a while?”

“Oh, I’m fine now, Roadie had just what I needed,” Gearing says with an almost musical tone. One that sounds weird coming from him and in an almost giddy foalish way.

She looks over her shoulder entirely and up at him, and then comes to an absolute halt as her eyes go wide. “What the fuck happened to you?!”

Gearing flutters around and grins at her as his metallic skin is positively luminescent, and his green wings actually do give off a faint glow. But, as weird as that is to her, that’s not even in the same arena compared to what’s going on with his face. Which is: nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with his face. Not even a single bandage covering him anymore. Even his left ear not only seems to have regrown itself, but that warped edge it had from getting the building dropped on his head has practically disappeared to the point that it’s gone from a near saw tooth look to a gentle ripple.

Gearing gives her a sly smile as he says, “Roadie had what I needed and I was able to heal up entirely.” He stretches one way and then the other, with all four limbs and his neck as he lets out groans of pleasure. “I haven’t felt this great in a looooong time!”

“What the hell?! Did he have an entire pharmacy full of potions?!”

“No,” Gearing says with a childishly wide grin that causes both of his eyes to close entirely. Yes, both of them, as his eyelid has been replaced as well.

“A fucking megaspell!?”

Gearing flips over, flying upside down, and starts flying lazily backwards with his forehooves behind his head. “Nope!”

“Gearing, really, if you got something that can heal that strong, we could really use it. Could it help Nahlah? Any chance of helping Handy?” Swift asks with a hint of apprehension in her voice that betrays her recent incessant teasing.

Gearing turns over and looks at her with an apologetic frown before he says, “If it could help him, I would have said something. But, it can’t. Unfortunately the method’s only going to work for me… and no one else.”

Swift raises an eyebrow as she asks suspiciously, “And that caravanner, that we just so happened to stumble across, who just so happened to have gotten ambushed, just so happened to have exactly what you needed exactly when you needed it?”

Gearing gives her a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Basically… yeah…”

Swift narrows her eyes as she asks, “And that didn’t seem suspicious to you? Something so rare just falling into your lap after what we just been through?”

Gearing taps his forehooves together as he looks off to the side. “It’s… actually not all that rare… It’s just that I can do things with it that most others can’t…”

“Because you’re… ummm,” Swift starts, and then starts struggling with her words as she tries to think of something that won’t offend him.

“A clockwork?” Gearing offers with a frown. Swift bobs her head around and then nods. Gearing shrugs as he says, “That has a big part of it, yes…”

“You ever going to share with the class?” Swift asks with a faint smile.

Gearing directs his muzzle off to the side, but looks at Swift sideways for a few seconds as he slowly taps his forehooves together in contemplation. “Eventually… maybe… but probably not until it’s really necessary and relevant.”

She rolls her eyes and waves towards him with a wing. “Well if it can help heal you like that, why not let us know so we can help you later if you need it?”

“Because the more it gets used, the higher the chance others might figure out what it is. And if that happens they might find a way to counter it… and then I might not be able to use it when I really need to.” Gearing lets out a sigh and directs his focus elsewhere.

Swift scowls as she stomps a hoof and tilts her head as she stares at him. “But you’re just going to share that kind of ‘Top Secret’ information with that merchant, but not with us?! I mean, hell, we live together!”

Gearing looks over at her, and then slowly lowers himself to the ground. He gets close before he says softly, “Actually, even Roadie doesn’t actually know…”

Swift’s eyes go wide before she waves a forehoof at him. “The hell he doesn’t, what kinda explanation did you give him for this?!”

Gearing looks off to the side and a sly smile crosses his muzzle before he says, “I traded a bunch of different things with him. A lot… And then I mixed up a variety of concoctions and gizmos and used them all at the same time… He thinks I used the supplies to make an auto-repair potion that only works on cyberponies…”

“And… didn’t you?”

Gearing shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “I did what needed to be done first to get it ready, while he wasn’t looking and couldn’t see. And then did everything at once. So he saw the effect, but not the real cause.”

“And you’re fine with tricking him like that? You seemed to be on good terms even before we saved his ass this time,” Swift comments as she looks Gearing over and can’t help but staring at the near mirror polish in the brass covering his entire form.

Gearing narrows his eyes before he says softly, “He’s still a Finder… and right now I’m not sure I can trust the organization as a whole… It depends on how things go with Big Daddy and, ultimately, how things with Lodestar turn out.” He shrugs as he adds, “Information is as much of a commodity as food, ammo, and weapons… and this would be really valuable to the right individuals.”

“Like who?”

Gearing looks around as he rubs his muzzle with a forehoof. “Usury… Red Beard… Slavers and raiders in general… and, if the rumors are right, the Steel Rangers would literally kill for it…” He gives her a mischievous grin as he turns his head and starts walking away. “We’ve all got our own secrets that we’d rather keep to ourselves and away from those that might exploit it… right?”

Swift’s eyes go a bit wider as she looks him over and the coy little smile he’s giving her like the cat that swallowed the canary. But then she relents as she narrows her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh, “You have a point… I guess…” She waves a wing at him as she says with an annoyed tone in her voice, “The next time you get your ass handed to you, I’ll just tell you ‘Hey, don’t worry, you still got that thing! You know, that thing that you wouldn’t even tell me about? Because it’s so super duper awesomely secret? Yeah, I don’t know what it is but good luck with that!’ and then march my happy ass off so you can figure it out yourself.”

Gearing looks back at her and gives her a foalish grin as he says, “That works!” And the uberly cheerful tone and mood just grates on her nerves even more than the situation had already. Especially with the way he practically hops around and prances in front of her as they continue down the road.

After a few moments of grumbling, Swift looks back over her shoulder, the way they’d come from, before she looks at Gearing and asks, “Didn’t that Road-whatever buck say he was heading to the arena? Why aren’t they coming along?”

Gearing sighs as he doesn’t even look at her and replies, “They wanted to give their coworkers a burial before heading back out. I’d asked if they wanted my help, but they said they’d prefer to do it on their own.”

Swift asks with a smirk, “Really? Did you tell them that you’re a ponified excavator with those hooves of yours?”

Gearing chuckles as he shakes his head. “No, didn’t come up. But I’m pretty sure it didn’t matter…” He lets out a sigh as he says, “It was a private matter for them, and I completely understand that.” He looks back at her and scrunches his shoulders as he gives her a sad smile. “I’m not going to take offense at not being wanted at something like that. It’s not my place.”

As they are walking on Swift can’t help but watch Gearing as he meanders down the dilapidated roadway. Especially the way the green light coming from his wings becomes noticeable when he gets near shadows when they get illuminated by it. But, after a shorter time than she’d expected, she starts noticing that the glow is just a bit fainter. And after a while it becomes clear that it’s entirely gone when they walk through a hollowed out building and his form melts into the shadow.

Once they emerge on the other side of the improvised tunnel, Swift asks, “Your radioactive whatever finally wear off?” Gearing looks back at her and raises an eyebrow and she waves a wing at him as she comments, “Your glow’s worn off…”

Gearing brings a wing around and looks at it, then raises it up to look through it at the sky before folding it neatly at his side again. “Yup. Seems so.”

“So it doesn’t last forever,” Swift says with a tone of curiosity.

“…nothing does…” Gearing replies with a cryptic tone to match.

“But, if it can heal that horrendous of damage that quickly, exactly how bad can you get hurt before it’s more than it can handle? Or can it heal you regardless?” Swift asks in a rapid fire stream and completely ignores the dirty look Gearing shoots her.

“I thought we agreed to let sleeping dogs lie on that?” Gearing asks with a sigh as he starts picking up the pace.

“Oh come on!” Swift groans before trotting faster after him. “It might be important later!”

Gearing spins around and looks her in the face as his expression becomes stoic and infuriatingly unreadable for her. “I’ve never run into an injury that it couldn’t heal.”

Swift’s eyes go wide before she blurts out, “So it’s like that mega spell Fluttershy used during the war?! It can keep you alive and bring you back even from the brink of death?”

“It’s not a mega spell, the power consumption for that is tremendous, and I seriously doubt it’s that potent,” Gearing says flatly.

“But… you just said-”

“What I said was that I’ve never run into an injury that it couldn’t heal. And that’s because I don’t just get myself hurt for shits and giggles. Yes, it’s helped me heal from some pretty grievous wounds, but I’m not willing to test its limitations. Because, at some point, there’s a line. And on one side of that line I can heal back up to pretty much as good as new. And on the other side of that line, I’m dead. A pile of brass that is going to tarnish into nothing or get recycled into ammo casings, paper weights or who knows what else. And I don’t know where that line is, but I know it’s mighty thin and I’m doing my absolute best to never find out where it is,” Gearing snaps.

Swift’s eyes go wide as she looks him straight in the eye and can see the cold calculating stare. The one focused on his own mortality. “But… why didn’t you use it when you got blown up? Why are you just now bringing it up? That would have been a perfect time to use it, wouldn’t it of? I mean…” She waves a hoof at him and gives a sheepish smile. “You were barely standing as it was… And Sable was freaking out about it… and then you went through all of that to get your helmet off…” She shakes her head as she says softly, “I just don’t understand it.”

“If you remember that, you’ll also remember that I couldn’t have any magical healing until I got that helmet off. But, you’re right. It could have completely healed my head back up after ripping that piece of shit dented helmet off my head.” He raises a hoof up and points to the left side of his face as he says, “And I would have ended up like this, if not better… but we didn’t have what we needed. I already double checked with Sable, and she confirmed it. None of you had what I needed. So there was no point in bringing it up.”

Swift’s eyes narrow as she asks, “But that Road-bie buck had everything you needed?”

Gearing nods as he says, “He had exactly what I was looking for. And it helped me tremendously.”

Swift tilts her head as she stares at him for a few seconds. “Well then how about going ahead and start stockpiling it, in case you need it later? If it can help you, that’s less healing potions we have to use on you!”

Gearing nods as he starts turning around. “I’ve already started thinking about that. And I just might.”

Swift starts walking after him as she asks, “Did you get extras for yourself?”

Gearing grins as he replies, “I can neither confirm nor deny that possibility.”

Swift scrunches up her muzzle in annoyance, but it breaks into a slight smile as she starts trotting after him again. But then a realization dawns on her and her eyes go wide as she comes to an absolute stop. “Is that why you wanted magical energy weapon cartridges?!”

Again Gearing grins but adds a chuckle as he repeats the exact same phrase in the exact same tone and cadence, “I can neither confirm nor deny that possibility.”

Swift scowls before she lifts a forehoof and shakes it at him. “You’re really infuriating sometimes, Gearing!”

“Thank you!” comes his musical reply.

Handy leans closer to her ear as he whispers, “Whad da fuk he do width a magic cartrage ta do that?!” Then he snorts and sniffles as his sinuses have apparently filled up once again.

Swift tilts her head to look at him and smirks as she says, “I know, right?! That’s what’s bugging the hell out of me!” She waves a hoof towards Gearing as she says, “If he could bottle that shit he’d be rich!”

Gearing, from a distance away, calls back, “I don’t give a shit about money, you should know that by now.”

Swift’s jaw drops and Handy smirks as he says, “Ah dink his ears err workan ‘gain.”

“Yup! Sure are!” comes Gearing’s cheerful reply before he starts bounding around and practically prancing down the road again.

Swift looks sideways at Handy and partially closes her eyes as she says quietly, “I think he’s just fucking with us so I’ll drop the subject…”

“And I think you need to hurry up before I change my mind on going to the arena!” Gearing calls back from even further away.

“You’re not going to be able to hide from him forever, Gearing!” Swift yells with a chuckle before she hurries to catch up with him.

Footnote: !!!WARNING!!! Breech detected!

--=ERROR=--

Please Stand By. . .

Reinitializing in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

System Check in Progress, Please Stand By . . .

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2 . . . Cycle Complete

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2: On Stand By Awaiting User’s Input . . .

88.5 Inspirations and Intoxications

The double doors to Hooflocker’s Bar and Grill open and the bright daylight beyond is partially blocked by a wall of pony silhouettes. The patrons inside look over at the sudden source of change in ambient light, with a mixture of interests. And, as the group of Equestria Defense Force soldiers start walking in with their clean uniforms, the average interest level in the bar jumps up dramatically. A few bucks and mares sitting at various tables along the far left wall perk up as they see the various well dressed service members walk in. But, the greatest interest of all, comes from the back left corner where a group of mares sit around a round table, that’s covered in drinks, many of which are simply empty glasses at this point, who all get massive grins across their muzzles as they see the procession of exquisitely fit pony flesh march in in front of them for their eyes to feast on.

It’s not hard to tell that they’ve been waiting here for just such an occurrence, as they quickly zip their eyes over one buck, or mare, after another and start plotting out their next moves.

Tower turns at the door and points outside as he says, “Okay, you two go back to Bake Bucks’s and wait on our order. It’s gonna be a while, but don’t try talking them into giving you the first pizza that comes out and eating it while the rest of us are down here waiting, got it?”

Mouse -in their tan mare persona and smartly fitting female uniform- pokes their head in around the door frame and looks the occupants over quickly. “Yeah. I hear ya, Wrecker… No loss, it’s the wrong time of day for me to have any fun anyway.”

The griffon head of Snake pokes over Mouse and takes in the view as she says, “Yeah. Looks like no loss for us anyway.” She taps Mouse and quickly zips off as she says, “Let's go! If we hurry up, we can still start huffing the scents from the oven!”

Gearing in his Equestria Defense Force battle dress uniform, and under the influence of a whole suit of the latest versions of enchantments to help disguise his true form, walks in behind Cross as he slowly takes in the view of the area and looks the occupants over.

The buck behind the bar counter on the right side of the place - that runs most of the length opposite where the patrons are sitting- trots to the end of the bar closest to them and waves at the new arrivals as he calls out, “Hey! It’s you all. How are ya doing?” He looks them over and then his eyes trail to the small blue pegasus walking among them. His smile turns crooked as he looks over at Tower and asks, “Hey, uh Sergeant Wrecker, who’s the kid?”

Tower walks over and laughs heartily before he waves a hoof over towards Gearing. “Better not piss him off, he could knock your block off with a single hoof!”

They share a laugh but then Tower suddenly leans across the counter and says quietly with his eyes narrowed, “No, seriously. That pegasus has a mean ass right hoof and will knock you the fuck out. Don’t piss him off. I don’t want his first time at a bar to end in a bar brawl.”

The bartender starts laughing as he pounds on the countertop. “But isn’t that the best way to end a good night out?!”

Gearing stands there slowly turning his head and taking in the surroundings as the others start fanning out and talking. After a bit he notices the bartender looking at him and, when the bartender beckons him over, he complies and walks over next to Tower and awkwardly sits on the barstool next to him.

The bartender looks him over as he leans on the counter and asks, “Hey, so, this your first time in a bar?”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah, I don’t usually come in places like this. Don’t really have a reason.”

The bartender chuckles as he looks back and forth between him and Tower. “Yeah, well maybe I can help you out with that and give you a reason to come back.” He gives him a wink that only draws a blank stare from Gearing. He shrugs as he leans on the counter and looks at him. “So… You’re the fresh new face in the unit, huh?”

Gearing reaches over and grabs a bowl of pretzels from the counter, and pulls them closer to himself as he sees a few others grabbing out the contents as they are walking by and figures they are free appetizers or something. He pulls one of them out with a wing and gives it a sniff as he says, “Yep. That’s me. The newbie.”

The bartender looks at him and narrows his eyes as he looks back and forth between the two. “So… What outfit are you guys out of, it’s been a while.”

Tower's eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to say something, but Gearing beats him to it with a snap response so fluid that he doesn’t even look at the stallion as he says, “One hundred and sixty fourth Logistics Corp out of Fort Falabella.” He snuffs at the pretzel a bit more before taking a careful bite out of it. He looks up at the buck and chews a bit as he says, “Technical and support division.”

The bartender smirks at him as he looks him over and how he is so slowly eating the one solitary pretzel. “So, you’re technical support?”

Gearing nods as he finishes the pretzel and looks into the bowl at the other pretzels as he ponders eating another one. “Repair. Maintenance. Transporting supplies. That sort of thing. Nothing major.”

The bartender narrows his eyes as he zips them back and forth between him and Tower. Then looking up over Gearing at Cross as she stands right behind Gearing and looking down at him but not saying a word.

The bartender smirks as he asks, “So… One hundred and sixty fourth logistics…?”

Gearing nods as he grabs another pretzel out of the bowl and takes a small bite out of it. “Eyup.”

The bartender leans closer as he says, “Sweet… then you know Hard Hat, right?”

“Nope,” Gearing replies as he’s looking at the bowl while still nibbling on the current pretzel.

The bartender raises an eyebrow. “What? But you said you’re a member of the one sixty four… how could you not know Hard Hat?”

Gearing shrugs as he looks him in the eye and chews on the pretzel. He pauses only long enough to shrug as he says, “Well, I’ve never heard of her… him? They? Whoever they are?” He pops the rest of the pretzel in his mouth as he says, “Though, I’m kind of new to the unit. So maybe we haven’t met yet.” He grabs another pretzel as he says, “Or maybe they’ve been transferred out?” He looks him in the eye and shrugs again as he says, “Either way. Can’t help you. Sorry.”

The bartender smirks as he looks over at Tower and Cross, “That’s a bit of a surprise… anyone in the unit should know who that is.”

Gearing looks at him and shrugs again, maintaining hard eye contact, as he says, “Well, I don’t.” He takes a bite of another pretzel and chews it slowly as he says, “If they’re such a big shot, maybe you should introduce us?” He throws the rest of it into his mouth as he says, “I’m normally in maintenance, and not hard to find.”

A light brown foreleg in an EDF BDU cuts between Gearing and Tower, resting on the bar counter as Tower respectfully steps back and away.

The bartender looks up at the new arrival and grins as he says loudly, “Command Sergeant Major Crypsis! Always good to see you!”

Gearing only looks over enough to confirm who’s standing next to him, he respectfully dips his head as he says, “Sergeant Major,” before going back to slowly nibbling on one pretzel after another.

Hard Hat grins at him as he stretches over Gearing and hoof bumps the bartender as he says, “Locklee, it’s good to see you too.”

Locklee chuckles as he leans sideways on the bar counter and comments, “Uh huh… don’t give me that, you’re just hanging out here while your order of Bake Bucks gets cooked.”

Hard Hat grins and shrugs as he doesn’t even try to deny it. “Hey, be glad you set up shop so close to there, or we’d probably never see each other.”

Locklee chuckles a bit before he looks at Gearing. He nods towards him as he says, “So, I see you got a new flier in your crew, how’d you pull that off? Figured they’d be in one of the more active combat units instead of in logistics.”

“I volunteered,” Gearing says as he looks over at another bowl, and pushes the pretzels away as he replaces it with the bowl of peanuts. He gives it a sniff as the bartender looks him over and adds, “Everpony’s doing their part, and every job is important.” He pulls out a couple of the peanuts and starts cracking the shells open and eating the peanuts inside of the ultra salty treat as he looks Locklee in the eye. “I can get things done quicker than some others. So it saves time.” He shrugs. “So it’s nothing that’ll make me famous. That’s okay.” He holds up the peanuts as he smiles. “An army travels on its stomach, after all…” He goes back to cracking open peanuts casually as he says, “If it wasn’t for logistics, equipment wouldn’t get where it was needed, and the war effort would fall apart.”

Locklee looks him over and smirks before bringing his eyes up to Hard Hat. “Is he serious, Sergeant Major Crypsis?”

Hard Hat grins as he nods. “He usually is, yeah. Takes his job very seriously.”

Locklee looks Gearing over for a few moments before he leans in towards Hard Hat and nods towards Gearing. “He’s not uh…” Hard Hat grins widely and Locklee asks quietly, “Wait, he’s seriously a small pegasus?”

“Dynamite comes in small packages, “Gearing says flatly as he nibbles on one peanut after another. Trying them in various ways. Then, as he’s looking Locklee in the eye, puts a couple peanuts, shells and all, right into his mouth and chews.

Locklees eyes go wide for a moment before he starts laughing. He looks over at Hard Hat and tilts his head as he asks, “Where’d the hell you find this kid at?”

Hard Hat smirks and scrunches his mouth to the side as he bobs his head around and asks, “Where do ya think?!”

Locklee’s eyes go wide and he points a hoof at Gearing. “Seriously? Him?!” Hard Hat nods slowly and grins wider. Locklee looks Gearing over and comments quietly, “I’m not seeing it, but something tells me I don’t want to.”

Gearing looks up at him as he asks, “See what? My military ID?”

Locklee grins as he says, “No, your DD two fourteen… You’re in the military, so obviously you have to have one of those… right?”

Gearing tilts his head and narrows his eyes before he says, “Sir… I'm afraid you’re mixing up your terms and lingo… a DD two fourteen is a Report of Separation form that explains that a pony is no longer in the armed forces. That isn’t applicable to someone that’s actively on duty.”

Locklee starts laughing as he puts a hoof over his muzzle and lowers his head behind the counter as he keeps laughing.

After a few moments, where Gearing actually does wait for him to reemerge, he pops up and looks at Gearing as he nods, “Oh… yeah… this kid's good… Damn…”

Gearing stares at him as he says, “I’d like to think I’m good at my job. Yes. But I don’t know what you're referring to, since we just met.”

Locklee looks over at Hard Hat and nods towards Gearing as he asks, “Not going to trip him up at all, am I?”

Hard Hat slowly shakes his head and grins even wider.

Gearing looks between them for a moment and Hard Hat leans over and says quietly, “He’s my brother.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow and looks sideways at Locklee, who has a matching grin on his muzzle before he leans forward and says quietly, “Why do you think you guys are allowed here? It’s the whole reason I set up shop.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment then nods towards the back corner as he asks, “And all of the obvious civilians?”

Locklee stands up straight and looks back at the group of mares in the corner. He rolls his eyes as he says, “Well... Those fillies come in all the time fishing for service members.” He looks at Gearing and smirks. “This is one of the few places on the allowed list around here, so they don’t usually have to wait too long before at least one group of EDF comes through.” He shrugs. “The locals pretty much have a whole system down… know which of the local units will be in during which part of the day, and that group back in the corner simply parks it around noon and waits for the afternoon rush.”

Gearing looks him over for a few moments as he says, “Well, I can see that being particularly useful.”

Locklee grins as he leans across the counter and asks, “Yup! So… wanna tell me what you really do?”

Gearing stares at him in the eye as he says, “I’m a maintenance technician in the Logistics Corp of the one sixty four.”

Locklee grins as he waves a hoof. “No, I mean, really.”

“Really,” Gearing says flatly.

Locklee looks between them and says quietly, “Aw come on, I’m his brother, he just told you so!” obviously expecting the extended implications of the information to earn him a bit of clout. Especially since he just outed himself by admitting he’s Hard Hat’s brother.

Gearing stares him in the eye for a moment, before popping another couple peanuts in his mouth, shell and all, and chewing as he says, “Well. If you want information about your brother's unit. Shouldn’t you be talking to your brother?” He stares at him for a bit longer then starts looking around as he says, “Because that’s my job so I don’t know what else you’re expecting me to say. Lie about it? Come up with something grand and epic to blow up your tail?” He shrugs. “I’m just a repair pony. Nopony special.”

Locklee looks over at Hard Hat and nods towards Gearing as he says, “You’ve trained him well.”

Hard Hat shakes his head and grins wider as he pats Gearing on the shoulder. “As much as I would love to take credit for this, this buck came preassembled with tight lips.”

Skip walks up next to Gearing and leans over to sniff at the bowl Gearing is nibbling from. Gearing slides the bowl over next to him and he hops up in the seat next to Gearing as he looks it over. He tries one and frowns as he says with his soft musical voice, “Bit salty for my liking.”

Gearing looks at it and shrugs as he says, “Yeah. It does have a lot of salt. Weird texture to it too, especially with the shells.”

Skip raises an eyebrow as he looks at him and says with a smirk, “Yeah, I bet… that’s why most folks don’t eat the shells…”

Gearing looks in the bowl as he nods. “Yeah, that makes some sense.” Then sits back up straight.

Skip looks him over, and straightens up himself. He reaches over with a wing and takes Gearing’s service cap off, as he takes his own cap off with his hoof. “Wait a minute…”

He hops off the stool and stands next to it as he says, “Gearing, come here a minute.” Gearing complies and hops down, standing up straight and looking him in the eye. Eye to eye. Skip uses his wing and keeps going from his brow to Gearing’s. Repeatedly. As he frowns he keeps looking at his wing tip with growing frustration.

Gearing grins at him and says, “Yeah… we’re the same height now.”

Skip scowls and slaps the cap back onto Gearing’s head as he huffs, “Dammit! I liked not being the shortest one of the unit for a change!”

Gearing pushes the cap up out of his eyes with a hoof as he grins. “Well, what’s wrong with it? Now you’re just tied for shortest member of the group.”

Skip rolls his eyes and taps Gearing between the eyes with his wingtip as he says, “Because, ya idjit, I’ve seen the way you've been growing with all those exercises you've been doing… It won’t be long and you’ll be taller than me too!”

Cross leans over and grins as she asks, “Ooohhh is somepony cranky? Don't wanna be the smallest one in the group anymore?” She snickers and looks between the two as she asks, “What’s wrong with it?” She nods towards Gearing as she says, “Just work the cuteness aspect of things. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Skip gives her an easy smile and instantly she starts flushing before he asks, “Oh?” He leans towards her and bats his wide eyes at her in quick flutters, “Is it working?”

She quickly turns around and walks away as she huffs, “Oh you brats!”

Skip and Gearing giggle for a few moments before Skip asks, “Hey, Gearing, you said this was your first time coming to a bar, right?”

Gearing nods as he looks around. “Yeah. Didn’t really have a reason to before.” He shrugs. “Didn’t really see the point in restaurants or any of that stuff, except for being a waste of money.”

Skip looks over at Hard Hat and asks, “Hey, Sergeant Major… we're off duty today… right?”

Hard Hats looks over at him and chuckles before he goes back to looking at Locklee. “Yeah… we are… Go ahead you lot.”

Wrecker grins widely as he hops over to the bar counter and yells, “I’ll take a Drunken Sailor!”

“I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea!” Jitterbug says with glee.

“Buttery nipple!” Static yells.

“I’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” Hammer says as she leans on the bar further on down the counter.

Lightening looks at her sideways and grins as she says, “I bet you would.”

Hammer looks at her and frowns as she says, “I’ll take it anywhere I can get it, actually!” She starts giggling and shaking her rump with such gusto that she’s twirling her tail as she rapidly rambles on with a big grin on her face. “Sex on a Snowbank, a great way to warm up. Sex on a Mountain, to really be on top of the world. Sex on the Grass, so you can play with your food. Sex on the Moon, to Keep Luna company. Sex on the Ceiling for some anti-gravity kinky fun. Sex on my Birthday, the greatest of gifts! Sex on the Deck, to add some motion to the ocean on the ship. Sex on the Rocks, because who doesn’t like it hard. Sex on the Island, there ain’t nothing lonely about it. Sex on Stage, when you want to put on a show that makes them jealous. Sex on the Sofa, the best way to break it in. Sex on the Pool Table, got a hole all picked out and it ain’t no game. Sex on the Dance Floor, when you want to bust more than a move. Sex on the Coffee Table, when you want extra cream in your life. Sex on a Cloud, riding a cute pegasus into the sunset. Sex on the Border, when you wanna push the limits. Sex on the Driveway, when you just gotta park it. Sex on My Face, would put a smile on it! Sex in the Woods, to enjoy it every morning! But most of all what I can really use is a nice Sloe Screw!”

Static stands there with her mouth agape as she looks at Hammer and the bartender is furiously writing down everyone’s orders. “Holy shit! How do you know all of those drinks?!”

Hammer gives her rear another twirl, and snapes her tail behind her as she grins. “What can I say? You know I’ve got Sex on the Brain!”

Lightening simply starts laughing as Static slaps a hoof over her eyes and shakes her head.

Gearing looks around and twitches his ears as he listens to the various names of drinks being called out by the other members of the squad. He raises an eyebrow here and there as he has no idea what any of it is.

Skip looks him over and smirks before he carefully hits the gem on his uniform. A moment later he covers his mouth with his hoof and looks at Gearing as he starts squeaking and chittering at him.

Gearing turns to look at him and twitches his ears as he narrows down and picks out his voice. “No… I haven't … Yeah sure, go ahead.” He gives a wide smile as he nods. “Ohhh . . . Yeah… Yeah, I’ve heard of that before… sure. Hey thanks!” He leans sideways and looks over where Skip is pointing with a wingtip, at the opposite end of the length of the bar against the back where the bar counter is practically void except for the one mare pouring drinks. “Over there?” Gearing asks. After a nod from Skip, Gearing hops up and walks down the counter as he says, “Thanks, I think I’ll try that, thanks for the tip, Black Locust.”

As Gearing gets closer to the back end of the bar, the table of mares in the back corner, what’s remained of them anyway, slowly direct their attention to the lone buck walking in their direction. As he walks over to the counter and sits down with his back to them their eyes jump wide and one mare slowly licks her lips as she shamelessly draws her gaze over every hair and feather of the young service member.

Gearing raises his hoof and says softly, “Uhm… excuse me…”

The mare behind the counter looks over from pouring a few beers, sees Gearing poking his head over the counter with a friendly smile across his face, and asks with a smirk across hers, “Uh… yeah?”

Gearing points down toward the end of the counter near the front door as he says, “My squad mate said it’d be okay if I came down here to order a drink. Do ya mind?”

She looks at him and scrunches up her muzzle to the side as she asks, “Your… squadmate…?” Gearing nods. She looks over and sees Locklee talking with Hard Hat and asks, with a loud voice, ‘Hey… Locklee…” He looks over at her and she nods towards Gearing as she says, “Uhhh… you know this buck?”

Locklee walks over towards her and nods as he says, “Yeah…”

She looks over at Gearing and asks, “What unit you with?”

“One sixty four logistics out of Fort Falabella, why?”

Her eyes go wide and she looks over at Locklee. She stares at him for a moment before nodding at Gearing. “Is he serious?”

Locklee grins and bobs his head around before he replies, “Yeah, I know, right?” He looks over at Gearing and grins. “Apparently dynamite comes in small packages. We were just talking down there about it with the rest of the crew.”

Gearing looks at her and narrows his eyes as he says, “I may be short, but I can still bring the pain.” He waves his hoof as he says, “Besides, being small comes in handy when trying to get into tight spaces. You never know when you’re going to need to wiggle around to get to just the right spot when you’re trying to fix something.”

The mares over at the round table right behind him, who have been shamelessly gawking at him the moment he broke away from the rest of the herd, and have had perhaps a few too many drinks already, find his phrasing particularly humorous as they keep watching the exchange.

The bartender shrugs as she says, “Well… I guess... yeah… I can see that.” She looks over at Locklee and he nods at her and then nods towards Gearing before turning around and heading back to talk to the others at the end of the bar. After he’s gone, she looks at Garing and asks, “Alright, so… soldier… pick your poison.”

Gearing blinks at her a few times as he thinks about what she's just asked, thinks of a few potential responses, and then says, “I’ll take a Sweetie Belle, if you have the time, ma’am.”

The mares in the back corner practically spit out their drinks, in his direction, as they are watching and a grin crosses their muzzles as they giggle. One of the mares, an earth pony wearing a sparkling red sequin cocktail dress, says, “He ordered the sweetest non alcoholic drink in existence?! Oh… that’s just too delicious!”

Another earth pony mare at the table, in a sheer black silk dress that's so form fitting the outline of her garter belt can be seen through it, comments, “The only thing sweeter would be if he ordered milk.”

The unicorn mare with them, wearing a frilly cream colored shirt and a long black skirt, with glasses on her nose and a bow in her mane, gushes as she puts her hooves to her cheeks and practically squeals, “He’s just so adorable I can’t stand it!”

The three of them look like they are throwing their own little cocktail party at the bar. But it’s obvious from their salacious expressions and lecherous gazes that they’re getting more interested in other forms of entertainment for the night. And their wardrobes just scream of trying hard.

The mare behind the bar counter smirks as he looks Gearing over. “A Sweetie Belle… are you serious?”

He nods as he looks around. “Is there a problem? Do you not have the ingredients? Would it help if I ran to the base’s commissary to pick some things up for you?”

She tilts her head and lets out a very soft, ‘awww’ as she looks at him with a warm smile for being so sweet as to be willing to run to the store for her. She shakes her head and she says, “No thanks, hun. I got everything… just… just wanted to make sure what you were ordering.”

“Hey there, soldier, what’s your name?” a mare asks sweetly from over Gearing’s left shoulder.

Gearing turns sideways and sees the three mares that were just at the round table standing around him as he slowly looks them over. “Name’s Gearing. Can I help you?” He slowly looks them over as he feels the area where his withers would be tingling and warning him of predators. Almost like he’d gotten surrounded by a pack of large carnivorous cats.

The mare in the sparkly red dress looks him over as she asks, “You really in the army?”

Gearing looks at her and nods as he says, “Yes, ma’am. Equestrian Defense Force one hundred sixty four logistical battalion.”

The mare in the sheer black dress looks him over and frowns as she asks, “How long you been in?”

The unicorn adjusts her glasses as she asks, “When’d you sign up? You look kinda… small… for a soldier, buck.”

Gearing looks at the unicorn and nods as he says, “I may be short. But that doesn’t stop me none.” He looks at the mare in the black dress and replies, “I signed up at the first opportunity I could.” He gives a light salute and smiles as he says, “I wanted to do my part to help keep Equestria safe.”

The first mare leans in and asks softly, “So… how close to the front do you actually get?”

Gearing looks at her sideways then nods as he says, “Well, sometimes we have to recover a piece of broken or disabled equipment.”

Back near the rest of Stormfront’s crew, Hammer, Lightening, and Static have sat down at a table to wait on their drinks as they talk. Although Hammer keeps looking down the length of the bar, towards the other side of Hooflocker, and develops a bad case of ‘resting bitch face’ as she sees what’s going on down there. But her attention is snapped violently back when Locklee approaches the table with an entire tray full of drinks, and starts laying them down on the table in front of the trio in rapid succession.

Hammer’s eyes bug out as she recognizes the drinks, and actually knows their names. The horror of what she’d accidentally done sinks in as she blurts out, “Holy shit! Am I gonna have to drink all of this?!”

Locklee smirks at her and gives a casual flip of his tail as he’s turning to leave, “Drink it or not, you’re still paying for it…”

“Well, fuck me,” Hammer moans as she sees the pile of drinks in front of her.

“Isn’t talking about that what landed you in this position?” Lightening asks with a grin.

“I’d rather be in a fucking position, than an alcohol poisoning position,” Hammer says bitterly.

“I can help you?” Static suggests.

“You can’t give me the kinda help I really want…” Hammer groans as she looks down the counter, to where Gearing is being surrounded by mares, and she scowls as she starts slamming the drinks and getting more and more pissed by the minute.

The mare in the black dress’s eyes go wide as she almost loses the drink she’s holding with a hoof and asks Gearing, “You mean to tell me you’ve been on the line?!”

Gearing looks at her and nods as he says, “Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

“You get shot at?” the unicorn mare asks as she basically blurts it out.

Gearing looks at her and frowns as he nods. “Had a bullet bounce off my helmet the first fifteen minutes there… that count?”

The three mares look at each other and try to process everything. The mare in the red dress looks closer at him as she leans in a bit more and comments, “But aren’t you a cutie though…”

Gearing looks at her and tilts his head as he says, “I know I’m small, but I still get my job done.”

the mare in the black dress giggles as she looks at the first mare. “He’s so dedicated!”

The fist mare leans in closer with a grin as she asks, “So… You’re in the repair unit, huh?”

Gearing looks at her and nods. “Yes ma’am.”

The second mare leans in and asks, “So, you’re good at fixing things… huh?”

Gearing looks at her and nods. “I’m pretty good at fixing things, yes ma’am”

The unicorn mare leans in and grins widely as she asks, “How about pipes?”

The other two giggle and the mare in the black dress swats the unicorn on the side of her foreleg as she says, “Oh, look at you!”

Gearing’s ear twitches as he looks past them towards Skip. They exchange eye contact for a few moments before he nods in his direction while Skip is holding a wing over his mouth.

Gearing slowly tilts his head, sits down, and raises an ear ever so much as he look at the second mare and asks softly, “What do you meeeean?”

The first mare does a spit take of her drink as Gearing’s already youthful blue eyes grow even bigger and practically sparkle out at them.

The second mare giggles a bit, as she tries to avoid eye contact before she says, “Oh… you know.. a little bit of hard work… laying pipes…”

Gearing looks between them and asks softly, “Why would you giggle about that?”

The unicorn puts a hoof to her mouth as her eyes go wide and practically sparkle themselves. “Oh there’s no way he could possibly be this sweet and innocent!”

Gearing puts a hoof to his chin and tilts his head the other way as he gives and maintains hard eye contact with her and asks softly, “I’m sweeeeet?”

The second mare’s legs shake slightly as she moans, “Oh god… look at those lips.”

“His eyes are amazing,” groans the first mare.

The third mare nods enthusiastically, enough to rattle her glasses, as she says, “Yes.. Yes you are.” She gives him a long look as she slowly licks her lips as she trails her gaze over his body, ending with hard eye contact as she partially closes her eyes and adds, “I’d love to get a taste of that sweet tooshie of yours too…”

Gearing looks at her then tilts his head as he says softly, “What do you mean?” As he looks up at her with his big wide blue sparkling eyes and a hoof ever so lightly put to his muzzle as he looks like he’s trying to follow along with a complicated conversation.

The first mare giggles as she says, “Oh god I can't help myself!” She leans in and whispers in his ear, “You wanna come back and show us what a big strong buck like you can do?”

The second mare giggles as she leans in and says, “I heard the logistics division gets run around so much they have endurance like nopony’s business!”

Gearing smiles sweetly and opens his mouth to say something, but Cross has not only noticed but has apparently had enough as she comes stomping over. She’d been keeping tabs on Gearing and wanted to make sure that Gearing was capable of keeping up with the cover story for them, even under constant bombardment. But as the conversation continued, she became increasingly more flushed as the innuendo and lingo, and obvious intent, got thrown around by the mares. And it didn’t slip past her notice how they seemed to be trying to measure Gearing up for a train.

Cross rears up and starts flailing her forehooves around as her cheeks are flushed and she yells “Alright all you skanks! Back the fuck up! You’re not riding the thunder tonight so back up! Go on! Shoo!” She stomps her forehooves down and looks them over as she says, “You’re old enough to be my mother, let alone his! What’s wrong with you?!”

The first mare scowls at her as she asks, “What’s wrong with liking a buck in uniform?”

The second one scowls as she says, “He looks good in it! I mean look at him!”

The unicorn looks away and puts the back of a hoof over her eyes as she moans, “I’m not that old! I swear! Don’t even have any kids yet!”

Gearing turns to look at Cross and does the same thing as he puts his hoof to his chin, tilts his head the other way, causing his hat to fall cattywampus on his head, as he asks softly in a sweet voice, “What do you meeeean?”

Crosses eyes go wide as she flushes even more. She uses her magic and twists his ear with it as she says, “Come along, you. I swear I can’t take my eye off you without you getting into trouble.” He follows along and when he turns around to look up at her he gives her a crooked grin, but has the same general pose again, and she blushes even harder as she puts a hoof in his face and yells, “And you, stop that! Stop trying to be so cute!”

Gearing tilts his head the other way as he asks with the same pseudoinnocent tone, “I’m cuuuuuute?”

Groans come from the three mares as they aren’t happy that such a sweet little treat just got dragged off away from them before they could get a proper sampling.

On the other side of Hooflocker, where Gearing is getting dragged to, Hammer groans and moans by the table as she mutters and yells at Static, who keeps trying to shush her. She raises her head and looks over at Gearing as she hears him ask Cross and waves a hoof in the air as she says, “Yer damn right yer cyoot!” She grabs for another glass as she says, “Got a shweet lil arse too…” Her and Static fight over the drink as Static tries to keep it away from Hammer with her levitation field for a few moments before Hammer leans across the table and stares her in the face as she puts one of her hooves almost into Static’s eyes, “Hey! Ya said I gotta drink’em, so Ah’m drink’em! If I gotta pay for’em, Ah’m drinkn’ me and if Ah can’t get me some hunka burn’ luv, hetter believe Ah’m drinkn’ at least!”

Static looks at her and frowns as she says, “Anvil, you’re not really making any sense…”

Hammer downs the drink in one go and then points the glass at Static like it’s a knife as she says, “Yer not makn’ sense!”

She slams down the glass then looks around and hicups as she gets giggly. But a few seconds later, her eyes start growing wider as they open and her jaw goes slack as she seems to stare off into space. “Ah… I think Ah’m gonna lose mah motor oil…”

Static’s eyes go wide and she hops over to the side to help Hammer, while Lightening takes flight straight up towards the ceiling to clear the blast zone, but Static ends up recoiling, hoping back onto her hindhooves as she stands up vertically and pops a magical shield around herself as Hammer leans over the table and starts hurling over the side of the table, onto the hardwood floor. At first it’s just a quick spurt. But then it starts coming out like a firehose as her stomach is playing bouncer and is kicking everypony out at the same time. Hammer’s tail twitches upwards with each additional abdominal contraction, which causes an even bigger watery burst. And it happens in rapid succession as she begins technicolor talking in full auto.

Lightening, hovering near the ceiling above the absolute disaster zone, scrunches up her nose as the smell hits her quickly. “In the immortal words of Pinkie Pie… ‘Ewww I think somepony partied too hard.’”

Hammer lays over the table and starts moaning and groaning as the drool steadily trails out of her mouth. She stares at the disaster she created for a few moments before she asks, “Carrots? When’d da hell Ah last eat carrots?!”

Tower turns around and looks at her as he hells ,”Ah god damn it! I told you not to drink all of that!”

“Shad ap… This is yer fault anyway…”, Hammer moans as she lays limply over the table.

“How’s the hell is it my fault that you drank a shit load of drinks in rapid succession?!” Tower asks with a raised eyebrow.

Hamer lifts her head up and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “Dun gemmi that crap… you know damn well why Ah drank so much!”

Tower slaps a hoof over his face as he groans. “Oh for fuck’s sake…”

Hammer points at him and laughs, sending spittle around onto the floor as she says roughly, “Yeah! See! You do know!” She waves her hoof at him weakly and says, “Told ya so, ya big ole meanie!”

Gearing trots over and looks her over as he asks, “Anvil, are you okay?”

Hammer looks over at him and smiles as Static uses her magic and wipes off her muzzle. Hammer reaches out and pats Gearing on the shoulder with a forehoof as she says raspily, “Gearing… yer a sweet buck… those mares were right… yer a sweet- sweet buck…”

Gearing walks up to Hammer and frowns as he says, “Anvil, you don’t look so good right now.”

Hammer lays on the table and groans as she says, “Ah don’t feel so good neither.” She closes her eyes as she says, “Forget the pizza… Ah just wanna go home to bed.” She opens an eye and looks at Gearing as she asks softly, “Gearing… will you take me home?”

Gearing nods and walks over to the table as he says, “Don’t worry, Anvil, I got ya.” He uses his forehooves to pull her closer, then directs her across her back where he lets her curl up and he wraps her up with his wings before he turns and heads towards the door. He stops and looks at Hard Hat as he gives a wave with a hoof. “Sergent Major… I’m going to escort her back.”

Locklee stares in bewilderment as the smallish pegasus hauls around the much bigger earth pony mare like she was a simple box of doughnuts.

Hard Hat looks at him and nods slightly before nodding towards the door. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea… Make sure she’s not going to hurt herself while you're at it.”

Gearing nods and heads for the door. As he’s going out of Hooflocker, Cross hops over and scowls in Hard Hat’s face as she hisses, “You sure that’s a good idea with the condition she’s in right now!?”

Hard Hat looks at her and frowns heavily as he says, “I have every confidence in Sergent Gearing to take care of his squadmate and uphold the code of conduct we have laid out for him. I don’t have any worry whatsoever about leaving her in his care, even with her current state. He’s a good buck, and would never do anything to disgrace the army, the unit, nor himself.” He gives a strong affirmative as he stares her in the eye.

Cross slaps a hoof over her eyes before she says softly, “I’m talking about leaving those two alone with her being too drunk to care about orders to the contrary and what she might do!”

Hard Hat's eyes go wide for a moment before he puts a hoof to his chin and gives it some thought. “Oh… yeah… I suppose there’s that.”

“You suppose?!” Cross screeches as she pulls the hoof from her eyes and stops it on the ground.

Hard Hat gives her a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Well… What’s the worst that can happen… really?”

Cross covers her face with her forehooves as she moans, “Please don’t say that, you know what happens every time you say that. That happens… that's exactly what happens: the worst thing!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gearing and Hammer make their way back to the private residence block, which is an apartment building for members of the various divisions that are stationed around here, and Gearing carries her all the way up the stairs to her room as she moans and mumbles about how horrible she’s feeling.

Once they get up to her room, he manages to wrangle her keys from her, and unlocks the door, then carries her in the rest of the way. After getting her inside he carries her over to the bed, and gently offloads her onto the bed. He’s extra careful to make sure that her mostly limp limbs don’t bend awkwardly as he works to position her onto the bed.

He goes over to the little kitchenette, grabs a cup from the cupboard, fills it from the sink, and sets it on the nightstand near her as he’s scooting over the trash can from the other side of the night stand.

She lays there grumbling and moaning as she asks, “Gearing… that’s you, aint it?”

Gearing nods as he steps up closer to her. “Yeah… it's me.”

She reaches out, and pats on his shoulder, then starts rubbing it gently as she asks, “Did… did I finally get ya home?”

Gearing chuckles. “I guess… sorta?” He looks her over and takes a few sniffs before he says, “I think you got some of your vomit on your uniform… is it okay if I take it off to get it cleaned?”

She slowly opens her eyes and looks at him as she stays practically smashed into the bed face down. She reaches out with a hoof and trails it around his cheek and under her chin as she says, “If you wanna take my clothes off… you’re more than welcome to.”

He smiles and nods, and walks around, first starting with her dress shoes, and then going around her one by one undoing the various buttons and straps. He takes her hat off, that had somehow stayed on the entire trip, and sets it on top of the lamp nearby before coming back and slowly starting to work her BDU jacket off of her.

The groaning unhappy look on her face takes on a different tone as she starts smiling widely and trying to keep her eyes open. She ever so often lifts or moves a leg to help her clothes get removed. And, after he finally relieved her of her jacket, but leaves the under shirt on, unbuttoned and disheveled but on, he walks over to the sink and starts cleaning off the various spots on it with splattered bits across the foreleg sleeves.

After applying a treatment paste to the spots so they don’t stain, he walks back over to her and helps roll her over, as he rolls her out of her shirt. She giggles and lets it be removed as she stretches out on the bed. After removing everything, he hangs up things that haven’t been soiled, and starts preparation on others that have. He walks back over and begins pulling out the sheets from under her and starts tucking her in. She reaches out and starts gently caressing his shoulder as she asks, “Gearing?”

Gearing looks up into her eyes, and goes from one eye to the other, as he asks, “Yeah, Anvil?”

She giggles and scrunches her shoulders up to her head as she says, “I love it when you say my real name… but…” She gently rubs his foreleg that’s on her bed as she asks, “Do you think I’m a good pony?”

Gearing gets closer to her, gently brushes her grayish opal mane out of her face, and nods as he looks her in the eye. “Yeah, Anvil… I think you’re a good pony.”

She smiles as she takes in a deep breath then asks with her eyes closed. “But… do you like me?” She opens one of her cobalt blue eyes as she looks at his face and bites her lip as she’s genuinely worried about the answer.

Gearing nods as he grins at her. “Yeah, Anvil. I think you’re awesome.”

She smiles and reaches over and pats the bed next to her. “Would it be too much to ask… for you to hold me? I feel like crap…”

Gearing shakes his head and walks around the bed as he says, “No. It’s okay… I’ll watch over you.” He rears up and puts his forehooves on the bed, and gives it a few pushes as he says, “With the weight distribution enchantment it should be okay…” He hops up into the bed, and she rolls over onto her back, looking at him with one eye as she has her foreleg over her eyes but peeking out at him as he’s over her. She stretches out her legs, welcoming him, and he tosses his cap off to the side before he gently lays down and, a moment later, she rolls with his foreleg and they quickly end up in a cuddling position as his foreleg is wrapped around her middle and the little pegasus becomes a big spoon. He adds to her enjoyment when he stretches his wing over her and pulls her closer to him.

Hammer giggles as she feels his wing tickle and press into her soft underbelly. She rubs his foreleg with her hoof as she wears an indestructible smile on her face and says, “Thank you, Gearing…”

Gearing nuzzles into the back of her neck and smiles as he nods. “Any time, Anvil.”

She takes in a deep breath, and starts scooting backwards. Pressing into him as much as she can until she literally can’t anymore. “Ya say that, but we’re not gonna get an excuse like this often, if ever.”

Gearing pulls his head away and looks her over for a bit before he asks, “Do you actually… enjoy this?”

She nods as she takes in a deep breath, and lets it out in a happy sigh of contentment. She giggles a bit as she sloppily taps her forehooves together. “I... finally got you in bed.”

Gearing shrugs his shoulders as he says, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She rubs his foreleg that on her abdomen as she says, “To you, maybe not… Means a lot to me.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I don’t really see why,” Gearing says as he keeps looking her over.

She slowly rolls over to look him in the face. They stare into each other's eyes for a few moments before she gently rubs a hoof across his cheek. “Is it so strange that someone would actually enjoy your company?”

Gearing looks at her and shrugs as he says, “A bit… I suppose.”

She lets out a long sigh as she says, “Well… I do… I really do…” She leans in slowly, maintaining eye contacts as she leans towards him. After a few seconds, seconds that seem like they take an eternity for both of them, she finally makes lip contact with him. And then she rolls forward, and partially over him, as she presses into him and the kiss. As she’s half laying over him she rubs a hoof over his chest and says softly as she pulls back, “Ya believe me?”

He looks up at her wide eyed, before giving a slight nod. “Ya, I do.”

She smiles and leans down again, kissing him, and ever so slightly working her tongue between his lips. After a few probing pokes, he complies and opens his mouth, and her tongue jets into his mouth, where she starts exploring around the inside of his mouth with her tongue as she rolls over and entirely on top of him.

She brings her forehooves up and rubs them up in cycles, caressing and rubbing his shoulders, neck, and cheeks as she continuously digs into the kiss.

After she’s heavily panting she pulls back and grins at him as the moisture from her actions have made her lips quite damp at the moment. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

Gearing smiles up at her and shrugs as he says, “Well… I don’t mind…”

She grins widely as she leans in, but halts as he holds up a hoof and stops her. “There’s just one thing.” Her eyes jump wide as she looks him over and awaits whatever cruel fate is about to be bestowed on her. He points up at her and says, “We can’t let anyone else know about any of this… Or Cross and them might get cranky.”

Anvil giggles as he leans down and kisses him again. “Yeah.. They probably would.” She practically lays on him as she lays down such that her limbs are outside of his as she rests her face in the nook of the side of his neck. She keeps scooting closer, wrapping him up in her limbs more as the smile on her muzzle just gets bigger. She takes in a long slow breath from near his neck then lets it out in a happy sigh as she says, “I could stay here like this forever…”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Well, we’ve got the day at least.”

She giggles and then sighs as she says, “Yeah… we do…” After another moment she lets out a giggle and comments, “There’s just one problem.”

Gearing raises an eyebrow as he asks, “What's that?”

“I gotta pee… like… bad… I don’t wanna get up… but I gotta pee.” Gearing starts a giggle fit and she says while giggling herself, “Don’t laugh too hard, or you might make me pee myself!”

He rubs her side with his hoof as he asks, “Need help to the restroom?”

She nods lightly. “Yes please.”

Gearing rolls to the side, depositing her next to him, before he rolls back the other way and slips out of bed. And as she's crawling out at a practical slithering pace, he helps guide her hooves to the floor. Safely. And helps hold her up and steady as they make their way to the bathroom. Then he stands at the door after getting her situated, with his back politely to her, as she answers nature’s call.

The embarrassing situation of having someone she likes so much, and has for so long, taking care of her like so is practically melted as Gearing looks up at the ceiling and asks, “So… about that race you’re preparing for?”

She can’t help but giggle and, at some point, actually agree. While she’s still going she starts giggling louder as she asks, “Is it ever gonna stop?!”

After a bit longer, and her finishing in the bathroom, Gearing helps guide her back into bed, and without even being asked crawls back up into bed and lays as he had done previously. And, just like previously, Anvil rolls over and starts climbing over him. Snuggling up with him as much as she can as she gets a happy smile plastered over her face. After a while longer with her slowly rubbing circles on his chest, she doses off to sleep with her muzzle pointed into his neck. Gearing covers her with his foreleg, and a wing, and holds her throughout the night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning Gearing’s walking in through a side entrance of the facility as he’s looking around and seeing who’s still up already. It’s early in the morning, even by military standards -outside of typical basic training torture- and the base is still quiet. But, after he gets in through the door, and starts heading over to the area where he’s been crashing lately, a puff of black smoke pops up next to him and Skip appears next to him, trotting at an exaggerated pace, swinging his hips with each step as he looks at Gearing sideways.

Ship puts a hoof out, in front of Gearing, and stops him from progressing anymore as he slowly starts walking around him and examining the sight. The further around Gearing he gets, the wider his smile gets.

Gearing’s uniform is entirely disheveled. As if he’d slept in it. Because he had. And he hasn’t had a chance to reorganize himself yet as he hurried up and got here as soon as Hammer had woken up enough that he could escape her fleshy embrace. And, to make matters worse, Gearing’s chest has some very noticeable stains on it where a certain mare had literally drooled on him overnight, during the whole night.

Skip taps on his amplifier’s button as he says, “Nitro… wow… okay…” He looks him over some more as he giggles. “You can’t let Cross see you like this, she’ll have a cow.”

Gearing looks around quickly and asks, “Well, what am I gonna do? If you’re up, she probably is too!”

Skip nods and grins wider. “Oh, she’s up alright. And she’s basically sitting outside of your door waiting on you to get back…”

Gearing looks off to the side as he folds his ears back. “Shit.”

Skip leans over and pats him on the shoulder. “Oh. Don’t worry. I got you.” He starts herding him over to a collection of barrels, boxes, crates, and other supplies as he says, “Here, get that shirt off and I’ll be right back with another one for you. Just stay out of sight, like I’ve taught you.”

Gearing quickly complies, jumping behind everything and blending in as much as he can as he starts wiggling out of his uniform.

Skip quickly pops away, appearing near the ceiling, then popping away and around into an unconventional path to his destination.

A bit later, Cross comes walking down the hallway, zipping her eyes this way and that as she says softly to herself, “I thought I heard voices down here…”

A few seconds later Skip pops back into the air above and behind her, near the rafters, then again over the position where Gearing is hiding. As he’s popping away from Gearing, one of their uniform dress shirts drops down out of the rafters and flutters down on top of Gearing, who quickly grabs and yanks it down better into hiding.

At the same time Skip pops in front of Cross, while she has her back towards the door Gearing had entered through and the pile of supplies he’s currently hiding in, and giggles as he says, and rather loudly at that, “Hey, Cross! What's shaking!”

Cross puts a hoof in Skip's face as she says, “Don’t give me that… He never came back last night. I’m getting worried about the little shit.” She starts looking around as she says, “I knew letting them go off on their own was a mistake.”

Skip flies around in her face, directing and drawing her attention towards himself, as he says, “What’s the problem? Not like anything would happen. He’d just drop her off and be the good little soldier we all know how he is.”

Cross narrows her eyes as she says, “Yeah, but Hammer’s not so great on protocol when it comes to certain issues.”

Skip waves his hooves around. “Pfft… besides… What makes you think he didn’t come back? What makes you think he’s not already back?”

Cross sits down and stares at him with her eyes narrowed. “Cuz he hasn’t been in his room, at all. He hasn’t even touched any of the magazines I dropped off for him and those should have been the first things he grabbed.”

Skip leans in and wiggles his eyebrows, “Or, it’s all an elaborate ruuuuse! Maybe he put them back, in the exact same order, after reading them…” He waves his hooves in front of her face back and forth before he says, “All so no one would know that he’s already read the information… Maybe he’s practicing for that! You know he’s got a great memory… practically photographic even!”

Cross narrows her eyes even more as she says, “Uh huh… and if that’s the case… where is he?”

Skip grins as he says, “Weeeelll… To be good at tricking people, you have to be able to trick your friends… and if you don’t want to get shot, a good way to avoid that is to not be seen!”

He starts giggling and as he's turning in a circle he hits the button on his suit then starts quietly squeaking for a second with his back to her before hitting it again and turning to face Cross as he says loudly. “So.. The first rule of not getting shot… is not being seen!”

He looks around. “Nitro… would you kindly stand up!?”

Cross’s eyes go wide. Then she starts looking around. And, after a few moments of absolutely nothing happening, she turns back to look at Skip and narrows her eyes menacingly as she says, “Oh hardy har har… Think you're so clever…”

He puts a hoof to his chest and starts hovering back and forth in front of her as he says, “Actually… I do!” He continues pacing as he says, “You see… Nitro has learned the first lesson of not getting shot… To not be seen!” He stops in front of her and grins widely as he says, “Okay, Nitro, you may come on out now.”

She narrows her eyes even further, but then her eyes jump wide as Gearing jumps up and hovers over the various supplies before he lands next to Skip, in his nice pressed uniform, and gives her a wide grin as he stands at attention and looks up at her.

Skip waves at him with both forehooves as he says, “Tadaaaaaa!”

Cross looks back and forth, then over at the supply stash, before she looks at Gearing. “You were hiding over there? Why?”

Gearing point at Skip without even looking at him. “He told me to.”

“Why?”

“Because… that's a thing we do usually?” He looks back and forth between the two. “He’s teaching me how to avoid being detected and avoid getting hurt or setting off alarms.”

“So you were hiding behind the supplies, because he said so.”

“Yup.” Gearing shrugs. “It’s not the first time…”

Skip nods sagely as he puts a hoof to his chin. “No… and it won’t be the last either…”

Cross looks at Gearing as she asks softly, “And what about Anvil?”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at her. “What about Anvil? I left her at her room. That’s where she was last I saw her anyway.”

Cross looks between the two and asks, “That’s… that’s it…?”

Gearing puts his hoof to his chin and asks softly, “What do you mean?”

Skip starts laughing and Cross starts flushing as she closes her eyes. She opens her eyes and turns bright red as she asks through gritted teeth. “I know you know what this term means… so… did you have sex with Anvil?”

Skip’s eyes go wide and he looks at Gearing as he was not expecting such a direct approach.

Gearing raises up a hoof and waves it at Cross as he says, while looking her right in the eye, “I… did not have sexual relations, with that mare, Miss Anvil Locknut.”

Skip spits off to the side as he giggles at the absolute bluntness of the statement, along with the weird phrasing.

Cross turns even brighter red before she looks back and forth and mutters, “Well… okay… If that’s what you say… I’ll trust you…” She turns and quickly starts walking away as she says, “But you need to get back to your duties!”

After she’s gone, Skip says with a giggle, “Wow… I know I said you needed to be able to fool your friends… but that was so good I almost believed it myself!”

Gearing looks at him and asks, “What?”

Skip waves it away with a hoof as he says, “The cute bit doesn’t work on me… And I meant you and Hammer shaking up, of course.”

Gearing looks back and forth before he says quietly, “But… I didn’t… I just watched over her while the alcohol worked its way out of her system… She fell asleep on me… That's why I had drool stains on my uniform.”

Skip turns and looks him in the eye for a few moments before his shoulders sag. “Oh… wow… I bet she’s gonna be pissed… Had a perfect opportunity and failed to seal the deal because of Whiskey Clit…”

Footnote:

Author's Note

While this is a half chapter, and not necessary to appreciates the greater story as a hole, it does contain some information that could help answer questions that some folks may have. Especially about in verse current and upcoming events.

98 Juggling Ponies & Responsibilities

There in the secret room of the R&D section, near the far end, Sable is standing upright, with her left side facing Gearing, as she’s working on something on a table that’s being covered up by a variety of cloth and other things. But, what has drawn Gearing’s shock, and instantly started throwing him into a panic, is the fact that he can only see three of her legs. Her right hind leg seems to not be attached. To her body. At all. And, in fact, a good portion of the area around her right haunch seems to be missing based on what he can see around her left haunch and tail.

Sable, using her cables to work, while also helping hold her upright, waves at him with both of her forehooves as she stays in the same position. “It’s not what you think! Wait! Please!”

Gearing starts shaking as his pieces start rebelling against his will and he’s not quite sure of what to say, even if he did have the ability to speak at the moment.

Sable gives him a sheepish grin as she says, “I… I can explain…”

Gearing stares at her for a few long moments, burning SATS repeatedly as he tries to think of what’s going on, but eventually stops and asks with a choke, “A-are you okay?”

Sable stops flailing around for a moment before she stares at him. Completely still. “Uhm… Yes, my darling… I’m fine.”

Gearing looks her over, at least as much as he can see of her, before he asks, “Do you need me to help you repair any damages?”

Sable stares at him for a moment before she giggles. “Heh… hehe… My darling Gearing, I’m not damaged. My repair matrix is working at full capacity.”

Gearing slowly sits down as he looks at her. And he can’t help himself from looking where a near quarter of her is missing. But he can’t quite see what’s been done or why. Given it’s on the far side of her. Gearing weakly waves a forehoof at her and asks, “What- what’s going on then? You don’t look okay… And the quartet told me what happened in the tunnels and… and… Sable, I’m so sorry, I had no idea that it was anywhere near that bad. I never would have-”

He stops speaking as her cable zips over, and gently presses against his lips. And he looks over it at her as his eyes go wide.

“Shhh… Gearing. This has nothing to do with that.” She bobs her head around. “Okay, it has a little to do with that… but, not in the way you’d think… I’m fine, my love. We can talk about it in a bit if you wish, but I really need to finish this before we do.”

Gearing nods a bit, then leans into her cable and nuzzles it gently. He gives the cable a light kiss as he looks her in the eye, and now it’s her turn to start shaking as he shows her such tenderness even from a distance. “Okay, Sable. I’ll leave you to it then. But if you need, or want, my help. I’ll be here in a flash. Okay?”

Sable’s smile beams at him before she nods. “Understood my love…” She looks back and forth a bit before she frowns and asks, “Would you like to clean up while waiting on me? You can do that…?”

Gearing looks at her. Then gives her a wide grin as he stands up and turns around to leave as he looks at her sideways. “I think… I’d rather you help me clean up… So, I’m going to go clean my bags and, when you’re done, you can join me in the shower…” He turns and walks out and the smile on his muzzle just gets bigger as she screams after him.

“My darling Gearing, that is not fair! I can’t chase after your sweet flank in this condition! Your teasing is concerning!”

Gearing calls back with a chuckle, “I’m not teasing, Sable…”

There’s a bit of banging and then a long groan before Sable yells back, “I’ll finish as quickly as I can, please don’t go too far without me!”

Gearing chuckles and heads over to his workbench and starts unloading the bags and everything else that he has on him. And, deciding to take the opportunity, he starts organizing the items he’d managed to bring with him. But, having already had one hell of a bad day, he starts double checking things to make sure nothing else got shot while he was playing mid air pony juggler earlier in the day. And then, to help pass the time a bit, he starts cleaning the bags and taking care of the various equipment that he’s pulled out. He wants to bring in the rest of the things that he’d let the protectaponies bring down. But they’re still on the other side of the decon chamber. And he doesn't want to head back and forth through there. It’d remove some of the fun for him and Sable.

Plus he’d made sure that all of the weapons he’d brought back, or more dangerous bits, had been brought in with him instead of handing them over to the protectaponies. They just brought down the salvage and machining parts that he’d managed to run off with. Although he does really want to get that fully kitted out reloading bench set up in here somewhere. But, that’ll be for later.

For now, he carefully pulls out and examines the enchanted gem that he’d taken out of the water system at Ironshod. He looks it over carefully, and then walks over to one of his testing equipment. He knows it’s old. That’s to be expected. But he’s not sure how much life it has left in it. Generally speaking, the enchantments are fed the energy needed to create their effects. The glyphs used to make them, and cause the effects, are, theoretically, enough to be perpetual. As long as the stone itself hasn’t been damaged and the archano circuitry embedded in it is intact as well. And as long as no one tried to overload it, and it was used at or below its manufactured tolerances. If all of that checks out, the stones can simply remain as the gate between magically converted energy, and water production. Gearing knows all of this from the archano mechanical theory he’s had to study.

But he also knows that all it takes is one jackass trying to push it too hard, and the functionally limitless water supply could be drastically reduced to nothing as it’s burned out. So he hopes that the company in question, Ironshod, wasn’t the cheap sort, and that the water talisman in his possession at the moment is rated for what would be normally expected of a building that size. Hopefully overrated.

He puts the talisman into his testing equipment, and then starts doing some diagnostics on the glyphs and magical pathway systems in the stone.

As Gearing starts working his mental companion comments, ‘You know, not being the one getting shot up and knocked down this time feels weird. Both refreshing, but disturbing.’

Gearing sighs as he mutters, “Yeah… Swift’s lucky she got that big hole in her wing, and not her body, or head. She did a good job dodging the real threats to her though.” He shakes his head, getting rid of the mental image of Swift’s crumpled form falling from the sky as he refocuses on the task in front of him.

These sorts of talismans have always fascinated him. He finds them remarkable. And, in truth, most people do. From the lay person’s perspective, some unicorn grabbed a rock from the ground, did some hocus-pocus, and suddenly they have magical gems that can do anything from creating water, air, or even keeping track of your daily calendar of appointments. Even most unicorns don’t actually understand it. When it came to the majority of the population, they were as mysterious as they came. But, just like the rest of the rampant consumerism that overtook Equestria at its height, they didn’t usually question it much. Sometimes in idle chatter or in trivia questions. But beyond that, most ponies didn’t bother with the hows and the whys of most of the technology that they used. All they knew was that it did work, so they used it.

Gearing’s fascination comes from the magical aspect of it. He’s not a unicorn, and has no real innate magic. Putting aside his pegasi linked ability to manipulate clouds, the weather, and, arguably, fly. And completely ignoring his curse. But he understands mechanics. And one of the things that had always struck him was how there’s so many similarities between both his mechanical work, and talismans and magically created archano technology. There are a few points of it that he only understands on a theory based level, like the mechanical archano transition and transformation mechanisms. But, he knows enough of both of them to work on both. With the right tools, he can even manipulate talismans. They have circuits, just like a protectrapony’s circuit board. But instead of being made through pathways constructed of thin lines of metal, they travel through the pathways created out of pure magic.

He’s never been able to create them. However, the more time he spends with the various technologies, the more a hunch keeps rearing its ugly head at him and pestering him. There’s so many similarities between the two, from his perspective, and he can already work on and even repair them, to some degree, with the right tools and equipment. So he can’t help having a feeling that, with the right equipment, even he, a pegasi, could actually create talismans. Granted. The groundwork would have to be laid by someone of more magical talent and ability first. They would have to create the originating tools that allow someone without magical ability to interact with the magical lines.

And the biggest support for his theory, to himself anyway, is the way pegasi had managed to create things from cloud. They’d used their own innate abilities to warp and manipulate simple water vapor into things that would boggle the mind for many ponies. How they could make computers out of things that most creatures can’t even interact with, is a bit of confusion that even Gearing has a hard time trying to explain. All he can tell them is that he’s able to work on, and type, on a computer, that an earth pony’s hoof would travel right through and do nothing more than make their fur feel a bit cold.

He still gets a giggle from remembering the time one of his colleges saw him working on a cloud computer he’d brought in. She’d had a near panic attack freak out as her hoof kept just swishing through it, causing a light swirl, but the cloud would reform back into the shape of a terminal. Every. Single. Time.

While he’s thinking of this, he performs the mindless task of confirming the talisman’s integrity, and is met with a pleasant surprise for once: the talisman seems entirely okay. Practically new.

Gearing removes the talisman from its testing equipment, and sets it on the counter as he thinks things through. There’s a lot he could be doing with this. The first inclination would be to find a settlement to give it to so water can be used to help everyone. His first instinct is, of course, Chapel. An independent settlement of mostly foals with a kind buck who tries to guide folks towards better alternatives. But that instantly gets rejected. As nice as it would be, he bitterly acknowledges that he’d just be making them a target. As bad as the need for water is, it wouldn’t even take the technology grubbing Steel Rangers to raid them for it. Common ponies would, just for the use of it. For the clean water alone.

Next he thinks of Megamart. It’s a decent enough sized place. Well armed. Has agreements with the Reapers. So they could protect themselves from most threats. They’re a trade hub already, as it is. The fresh water it could produce could be used there, or even sold, to the areas around it. Possibly start entire water convoy caravans, since he knows Bottlecap practically has a trading kink. He doesn’t entirely like the idea of the water being sold. But, however, he’s no fool and can acknowledge that even if it is, that would help everyone in the area. Because if there’s a new, fresh, source of clean water, that would increase overall supply. Which would lower overall unmet demand. Unless someone simply tries to hoard it, which he can’t help but think is a real possibility given the way some greedy individuals are.

He goes round and around in circles as he tries to think of where to take this. And all of the ideas he has end up being shot down. All because of safety and practicality.

Gearing leans on the table and looks at the relatively small blue gem at eye level as he groans. He knows if he doesn’t use it, he’s no better than the Steel Rangers that he took it to keep it away from. Functionally at least. It needs to be used. And not just ‘sometime in the future’. He needs to have a real hard plan for when and where to use it. So it doesn’t slip through the cracks while he decides and gets stuck in decision paralysis.

The little pegasus in his head lands on the talisman and stares at him. ‘Well, what if we set up shop in Paradise after we kick Usury and her goons out?’

Gearing shakes his head. “The only way we’d be able to protect it, is if we stayed there and made sure anyone who even had the idea to do something about it, didn’t live long enough to regret the decision…”

‘But it’s a nice big place, I’m sure Bottlecap would love to expand over there. She’s always looking to expand. And with the mall already well, a mall, it’s presetup for various stores… It could be like her Megamart, but upgraded.’

Gearing frowns as he says, “Yeah, except, a bigger place means it’s harder to keep guarded. That’s one of the problems with dealing with Usury… Like, if her operation was just Megamart’s size, I could probably handle her and her goons. Even with turrets or whatever. But, sheer numbers, it’s a problem. I can only eat so many bullets before I have to hide and get patched up. And that’s to say nothing of other weapons that would ruin my day even worse.”

The little pegasus kicks his hind legs out mindlessly as he looks around. ‘Well… if we can’t get enough ponies to watch the area to keep it safe… How about we take it to a place that already has a lot of dangerous ponies that no one wants to mess with?’

Gearing’s eyes slowly go wider before he asks, “The Reapers? The arena?”

The little pegasus shrugs. ‘Why not. Instead of taking it elsewhere, and hoping Big Daddy will help keep it safe, lets actually keep it with Big Daddy… Practically under his pillow. If they have access to fresh clean water all the time, they’d have an invested interest in keeping it safe… Plus, the extra water would help bring in new recruits…’

Gearing nods as he looks around, “Which could help stabilize the area even more. Since if you don’t play nice, you get no wa wa… Yeah… That might be an idea… I’d have to rig up a system with it.”

‘And make sure that Big Daddy agrees to share with the understanding that we will take it back if he starts being greedy about it. Charging is fine. Using it as something to trade for other goods is fine. But no scalping.’

Gearing nods as he’s standing up. “I’ll have to talk to him about it.” He grabs the stone off the counter, takes a tin can that he has on the side, already empty and clean as it’s ready for random purposes, and he gently puts the talisman in it after stuffing it with some padding from ripped pillows he’d taken from the residential sector of the stable. After making sure that it’s not going to rattle. He puts a piece of cloth over the top, secures it with a rubber band, and carries it into the chemical storage room. He sets it on the top shelf, in the back, and smiles as he looks at the nondescript object that almost looks like one of his improvised demolition charges. And, because of the way he is, and how a lot of them know him, they’ll take one look at it and are far less likely to even try and touch it. Foals included.

As he’s walking out of the storage closet, and on the way back to his workbench, his ears twist to the side as he hears rhythmic metallic hooves on the floor plating. And as he’s walking into the main room he sees Sable emerge from the hidden room off to the side.

Gearing glances over, and he feels his gears start loosening up a bit as, indeed, he sees all four legs and she seems to be moving just fine without any hindrances.

“Did you need something, Sable, or are you finished?”

Sable smiles as she walks towards him. “Both, my darling.”

Gearing stops as he stares at her, and starts tilting his head. “What’s up? Any way I can help?”

She trots right up to him, uses her cables to grab his face, and tilts it just enough so that when she smashes her lips into his they are at just the right angle so she can dig deeply into the kiss. She scoots up closer, wrapping her forelegs around his head, yet keeping her cables there, until she has him held tightly with her forelegs. After achieving that, she allows her cables to snake out and along his body, gently caressing and squeezing as it goes until he’s pretty thoroughly wrapped up with her.

After a few moments of quickly escalating kisses, she pulls back just enough to smile at him. “Yes, my darling Gearing. I need help. I need you…” She starts walking towards the decontamination chamber, with her cables still entirely engulfing him. “I need you to help me by coming with me and letting me clean my darling Gearing.”

Gearing smirks and quickly obliges as she leads him into the decontamination room. As the room is closing up, Sable stands closer to him and starts hugging him again. And while the sudsy chemicals start raining down on them, she takes extreme pleasure in rubbing her hooves all over his body. Cleaning off the mess is a decided end goal for this, for sure. But having that as an excuse for not leaving an inch of him unappreciated, that’s the true magic of the chamber for her.

And he certainly doesn’t hate it either.

Although, after the first cycle completes, Sable does have to help Gearing get bits and pieces of bat out of his gears. She even has to use smaller tools -picks, tweezers, and the like- to get it done. Because some of the stuff is a weird combination of squishy, yet firm. So simply scraping it out wasn’t effective. And then there’s the narrow crevices between the parts of his wings that are even worse. But after the end of the second cycle, Sable is more than happy to declare Gearing acceptably clean, and then escorts him out where she immediately starts giving him a buff with some clean towels that she had apparently recently set up near the door.

A stash that he suspects was strategically placed there for just such as this sort of occasion.

And not only does he allow her to continue, he actually enjoys the attention. And he doesn’t even try to hide it as any time she even starts to nuzzle or hug him, he leans into it. But, as she’s taking particular interest in ‘drying’ his hind quarters, Gearing can’t help his curiosity anymore as he asks, “If you weren’t damaged… What was wrong with your leg?”

Sable pauses and then looks up at him. He can see her actually thinking about the response, and it just makes him raise an eyebrow even more as this too seems odd to him. She shakes her head before she says, “The problem was not with the leg unit, specifically. I had just ran into some situations on the way back that gave me the experience to know that this chassis has some unfortunate limitations to it. What I had done was upgrade the components that were not adequate for the tasks I needed to do.”

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head eyes narrow before he asks, ‘Was it just me, or did her voice change a bit there?’

Like she developed an accent or something… yeah, Gearing mentally agrees.

Gearing blinks a few times before asking. “What was so bad that you had to do something to your legs? Were the ankles not able to keep up with the speed you were walking?”

Sable smiles as she shakes her head. “No, my love. The servos in the hind quarters simply were not robust enough to allow the movements I was attempting. It really limited my options.”

Gearing stares at her for a moment, then asks, “What were you trying to do that you couldn’t because of the servos?”

Sable looks at him, and gives him a coy grin before stepping back a bit. Then she starts raising herself up on her hindlegs. And as he’s watching her, she stands entirely upright. On her hind hooves. And even straightens up a bit more. She stretches out her forelegs as she grins at him. “From this position, I’m far more able to deliver effective strikes, while maintaining mobility.” She demonstrates by throwing a few hoof strikes. Then, in fluid movements, steps around with her hind legs. Even turning to the side and unleashing a set of forehoof strikes that are so fast even he has a hard time keeping up with it.

And then she slides one of her hind legs to the side, and pivots on it as she angles with both it and her left hind leg off to the side.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The equine leg that came around from the side of the tree was moving at such a speed that the mare next to it didn’t have a chance to perceive it, let alone actually do anything about it.

The next moment she was down. The precise strike of the Fallen Caesar style hitting a nerve cluster that’s made her go numb in a large portion of her body.

And the fight was on.

In the middle of the woods, Gearing and a couple other lightly armored EDF soldiers turn and start warding off the zebra legionary ambush. Of the eight Equestrian soldiers, three had been caught unawares and went down in the opening fractions of a second. Leaving only Gearing and four others to square off with a force that had them out numbered before, and now even more so.

One of the ones dropping out of the tree was heading for the unicorn mare of the group from above, with a forehoof held at the ready to land a strike that would likely incapacitate if not kill the unicorn that was busy fighting off another zebra in front of her using the side of a spear.

Of the two that had dropped down from the trees above towards Gearing, they were the ones caught by surprise as he actually jumped up towards them. He kicked the mare with both hindlegs, landing a face and chest shot respectively, but then used his wings to grab the buck that was with her. The impact not only knocked the one mare away, but sent Gearing in the direction of the unicorn that was about to get clobbered.

Taking the buck with him, in mid air, Gearing pulls the buck towards him, holding on tightly to the buck’s hindleg, before spinning around and throwing him at full speed towards the mare attacking the unicorn.

The buck slams into her just as she’s starting to touch the unicorn, but throws off the strike enough that she barely moves from it, let alone actually receives the full power of the strike.

The other three go back to back as they square up with their own opponents.

Gearing turns and stares at the two legionaries that step out from around the tree next to the unicorn, but both of them are looking right at him.

The one on the right comments, “You ponies are not welcome here…”

The one on the left says, “You, pegasus. You fight dishonorably.”

Gearing tilts his head and straightens up as he stares right at them as he pounds his forehoof into the ground. “No guns.”

The mare on the left smiles widely as she sees him issuing his challenge. Both her and the one next to her, rise up to their hind legs, slide their hind hooves out and to the side, and enter a pose that he’s seen far too many times. The mare on the right comments, “Brave, or foolish… let us see which.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sable continues moving around stretching this way and that, and after getting into a certain position where her legs are far spread apart, and looking like someone had taken a video of her attacking someone while on only one hoof, and froze the frame, she looks over her shoulder at Gearing and smiles. As she sees that he’s staring right at her, she pointedly lifts her tail, and gives her rear a little shimmy, as nothing is left to the imagination anymore.

Gearing blinks a few times. Then a few more times, before he looks up and into her eyes as he’d been staring off into space and having an eerie feeling like he’d seen something similar before. And as he’d thought about it more, it did strike him as things he’d seen during the war. But, maybe a bit cruder. And he can’t help but wonder if that’s how the zebra forces came to the conclusions that they had: by running into situations where their normal movements just weren’t enough and experimentation and trial and error is what helped them develop their unique fighting styles.

Sable keeps smiling at him as she sees him looking at her eyes. But, even though he’s not really reacting much, she hopes to coax a bit of something out of him. “See something you like, my love?”

Gearing blinks a few more times before he says, with all sincerity in his voice, as he looks her right in the eye, “You.”

She squeals with joy and stops trying to tease him as she spins around and hops towards him again. She wraps her hooves around him as she groans. “I love you too, my darling Gearing.”

Gearing pats her on the back, and gives her a little squeeze. “I missed you, Sable.”

She hugs him a bit tighter as she smiles. “I missed you too, my love. So much.”

Gearing wraps his wings around her and nuzzles her. “Sable, I’m sorry about the tunnels. I had no idea ghouls were that much of a problem. I just-”

Sable uses one of her cables, quickly loops it around his muzzle, and clamps his mouth shut for him. “My love, you couldn’t have known. None of us could. And not even the children knew their own limitations of their abilities.”

Gearing looks at her and tries to talk, and she gently loosens her cables for him to do so. “So now we know they have limits on the number and duration of their effects. It’s still powerful, but at least they learned them without catastrophic consequences.”

Sable nods as she nuzzles him and then pulls back just a bit to look him in the eye. “Yes, it was certainly concerning watching the hordes of zombponies tighten their noose on us.”

‘There’s that accent again!' the little pegasus in Gearing’s head chimes in.

“But what was more concerning was the apparent drain on their energy levels,” Sable continues uninterrupted. “And then there was their… physical changes.”

“Energy levels, I understand. But, physical changes? How so?” Gearing asks as he gives her his undivided attention.

Sable looks off to the side as she smacks her lips a few times. “I promise I am not making this up, my darling Gearing.”

‘It’s concerning she feels the need to preface it by saying that,’ both Gearing and his little pegasus companion say in unison in his mindspace.

Sable waves off towards the front of the stable as she continues, “The children seemed to have grown faint. Duller. I- I don’t mean figuratively. I mean their very coats seemed to lose their color before my very eyes. Their luster.” She waves off towards the workbenches as she adds, “I was concerned my optical systems had become faulty. That they were malfunctioning. But nothing else had the same change. As strange as it sounds, I was worried their lives were draining away before my very eyes. Even though that does not make sense. I do not know why I thought that, but I did. So I, admittedly, started getting worked up and… maybe did some things that were reckless as a result.” She gives Gearing a sheepish smile before shrugging. “I tested my systems with the available equipment when I returned to the stable. And it all verified what my internal repair systems had already said: my optics are fine. And over the next couple of days the foals’ coats regained their vibrancy. And they’d regained their vigor in the same time period, so whatever it was didn’t seem to have lasting effects on them. None that the auto doc could find either.” She gives a prim nod before adding. “I made sure they all took a turn in the auto doc when we arrived. If nothing else to make sure they weren’t bringing in any harmful pathogens with them from the wastelands. The poor dears.”

Gearing rubs his chin as he thinks about it, gently caressing Sable’s cables still around his muzzle while he’s at it. “That almost sounds like you ran into an enervation field. Especially with the way it zapped their energy. I’ll share what I know about it in a bit. But, that doesn’t make sense for it to be enervation because while it drains life and makes wounds worse, I’ve never seen or heard anything about it changing a ponies color. So that’s a new one… And if the ghouls didn’t get liquefied, it couldn’t be a stronger field than I’d already run into either.” He frowns before he mutters, “I bet it’s a different variety of the weapon that was used. But, all that means is that we have even less of a reason to go into the tunnels now. Hoards of herds of ghouls is bad enough. I mean, we could start thinning them out and eventually make the tunnels clear to use if we really wanted. But we can’t fight what we can’t touch or interact with. So we’ll just avoid those tunnels from now on… I’ll make sure to spread the information with the Finders too. So they know to avoid it and not to even bother.” He lets out a sigh. “At least the kids are back to normal though. So, you’re right, the effects had to have been temporary.” He rubs the back of his head with a hoof before letting out a gush of air. “I’m glad it all worked out, and we didn’t lose anyone at least...”

She nods and lets him go before she hops over to the workbench and points at it as she says, “While you were gone, I took the liberty of continuing the work where you had left off. Of the various salvage you had accumulated, I’ve broken them down to their more basic components, and stored them based on the system you had already established.” She points over towards the window for the Decontamination chamber. “I even took the liberty to organize some of our cleaning supplies and more commonly used items. And, over there on the shelves with the blankets I have a list of everything that’s been done so far so you can keep track of what we have available. I found my darling Gearing’s inventory control system to be quite helpful!”

Gearing smiles as he turns to head into the decontamination chamber. “Great, I got a few more things that need to be brought in. Quite a bit still needs to be cleaned too. But it all needs to be organized and set up and put where it needs to go.”

Sable sees him going for the door, and throws out her cables after him. “Hey, wait a moment! There’s more I want to show you! We can clean the other stuff later after we-” She stops talking as her cables had whipped out to wrap around him as he had started walking away. And, she used enough strength based on her own calculations, to try and halt him. It wouldn’t necessarily work, she’s aware. But what she wasn’t expecting was for the cables that she wrapped around him, and when she leaned against him to stop him, was for him to actually not only get halted, but picked clean up in the air in a sudden jolt of near antigravity level of force.

As he’s dangling there, in her cables, he looks over at her and raises an eyebrow. “Uh… is this necessary?”

Sable stares at him for a moment, and her jaw drops as her eyes go wide. “Wha- how- Why?!” She starts turning him in the air with her cables. In a variety of angles. Effortlessly. “What’s wrong with my Gearing?! Why- Why is he so light!” She does it again quickly, spinning him around and using multiple cables to pull him back and forth as he has cables coming at him from various directions. And, at one point, she starts passing him back and forth between one of her cables and another one. “What is this?!” She recoils as she asks, “Where’s the rest of my darling Gearing?!” She puts a hoof to her mouth as she shakes, and then shrieks in unmistakable horror, “Oh no! Don’t tell me you lost it!” She yanks him over with her cables, dragging him to right in front of her, and she starts giving him a discerning eye. And, embarrassingly to Gearing, she turns him around mid air and stares right at his butt as she puts it not far from her face and starts examining it closer. She reaches up with a hoof, then even uses a couple cables to verify her findings as she blatantly continues to grope his rear end. Both cheeks.

“It looks like my darling Gearing’s butt. It feels like my darling Gearing’s butt. But my darling Gearing doesn’t weigh enough to have so much junk in the trunk!” She lifts and lowers him a few times confirming his weight by feel. Then, figuring she’s already gone that far, she takes a quick peek at his undercarriage to make sure nothing’s missing from there either. And when she lets out a sigh of relief after finding the family is still in possession of its precious jewels, is when Gearing starts flailing around mid air as his ears whistle.

“Alright, that’s enough, if you give me a minute I’ll explain what happened!” Gearing yells out as his ears whistle quite loudly.

Sable turns him around to look at his face, as she’s still holding him up with her cables. “What could have happened to my darling Gearing?! Tell me! Who did this to my darling Gearing?! If they hurt my love, I’ll destroy them in such a way that not even a memory of them will remain!”

Gearing smirks at her, then stretches out and kisses her nose. An act that triggers her ‘prance in place’ protocol as she happily accepts Gearing’s affections. He looks down a bit then looks at her as he says, “Lower me to about an inch off the floor plating, and I’ll explain.”

Sable tilts her head, and looks at him. But then nods as she complies.

As soon as he’s close to the ground, Gearing deactivates his gravity mitigation implant, and instantly sinks the rest of the way as he is practically pulled right out of her cables by gravity itself.

Sable looks down at the floor plating, then at him, and starts wrapping him up with cables again. And, again, she starts working to lift him. This time a smile crosses her muzzle as it actually takes her some effort to do it this time. “My darling Gearing is back!” she cries gleefully.

Gearing laughs and pats the cable around his chest as he looks at her. “Sable, I’m fine, really… Remember how I’d said some of my implants weren’t working? Well, the one that helps with my weight came back online… Now I can walk around without having to worry about crushing whatever I step on… At least, no more than a normal pony…”

Sable nods, then starts hefting him again as she confirms his mass. And, for fun, he turns on his implant again and lets her pick him up with ease. Which she does quickly and snatches him over for a quick and abrasive nuzzle. “I understand now, my darling Gearing! My darling is now extra snuggly! He has a snuggle mode!”

Gearing smirks as he looks off to the side and asks quietly, “Snuggle mode?”

Sable nods as she says, “Yes, now my darling Gearing can be snuggled without concern for causing any damages… And this increases the number of places that we can polish with his flank!”

Gearing’s ears manage to create a new personal best record for the loudness of their whistling.

Gearing hangs there limply in the air as she continues happily manipulating him with her cables like a doll. “I’m glad you approve, Sable,” he mutters quietly with the faintest of smiles on his muzzle.

But, after giving his flank an over exaggerated kiss, she sets him back down onto his own hooves. She walks back over to the bench and holds up a circuit board that she had freed from one of the computers that had been destroyed. And is obviously quite pleased with herself as she says, “See! I have more components for us to fix up the stable with. So once you bring in the other components you brought with you, we can start fixing up the stable as my darling Gearing wished!”

Gearing looks around as he rubs the back of his head with a forehoof and groans. “I… didn’t get the parts we needed.”

Sable looks over at him and her mouth drops. “But my darling Gearing was gone for so long!”

Gearing nods as he frowns. “We got information about where to pick up the parts we need… or... At least… where they should be…” He looks at Sable and frowns. “A lot happened while I was up there… A lot…”

Sable looks at him and nods before going back to looking at the circuit board. “I see. That is unfortunate, that it didn’t go as you expected, but at least everyone made it back.”

Gearing looks her over as she carefully puts the circuit board into a slot that she had obviously custom made for it to keep it safe, and lets out a sigh. He looks around and tries to think of what to say, there’s a lot that he’d want to say. There’s a lot that happened. And he’s missed her a lot. On one side, he thinks talking about it all chronologically would make the most sense. But, in a part of his mind, there’s one part that he feels he needs to bring up. If nothing else but to make a certain mare shut up about it and stop nosing into things she doesn't know about nor understand in his opinion.

Gearing waves a hoof as he says, “Yeah, a lot happened. And, I can fill you in about all of it later while we’re working or whatever. But, yeah, as far as anything that needs to be brought up, I just wanted to make sure you knew, from me, straight, before someone comes and says anything. Especially since they don’t really understand the situation. Rumor and drama are not something I want to start getting spread. And while there was nothing wrong with it, it’s probably best that everyone’s on the same page.”

Sable nods as she continues looking over the parts she had laid out on the workbench. She grabs a metal box that had been used as a sealed filing folder, like the kind contractors would use when they were out and about doing bids and the like, and pulls it closer to herself as she smiles. “I understand. What is it you wanted to let me know of in advance?”

Gearing waves a hoof around as he says, “Well, after you’d left, I ended up getting dragged into a few incidents and problems. The raider and slaver trafficking up there is outlandish…”

Sable nods as she carefully places the metal box in front of herself on the workbench. “That, I noticed. Those inconsiderate ponies that you had to go chase down were a good example of that, I’d wager.”

Gearing nods as he waves a hoof. “Yeah. So, in one instance I had to go take down a particularly bad pony. A real piece of work. He’d been causing havoc for a while. Widespread death and misery. A fucking sadist to boot. I figured I could not only use the funds while I was at it, but earn some good will along the way. Well, a local bounty hunter in the area volunteered to help me track them down, so we did. The whole time there were problems. But, we managed it. But before we went back, she got hit with a premature cycle of estrus, and, well, you know how that can cause issues, I’m sure. She quickly had a hard time functioning. And it was going to be even more problematic when we got back to the hub where we had to cash in the bounty. So I agreed to help with a round of therapeutic copulation. And I get why she might think it’d be a problem, and admire her obvious good intentions and desire to help us, but Swift thought it was best that I said something to you about it. Even as much of a non-issue as it is.”

Sable freezes as she’d been opening up the clipboard sized metal box, in preparation of showing him and telling him something, but instead stops solid. “Therapeutic copulation?”

Gearing nods as he says matter-of-factly, “Yeah needed to get it out of her system. You know how it is.”

“Ah- Yes. I see.”

Gearing nods and looks off to the side as he says, “And then there was some caravanner mare that had information that she knew I needed. And, I don’t know where she got the idea from. Or if she was just that desperate for something without consequences. But, apparently she was in a bit of a bind too because there’s only one thing she wanted, and I’m sure you can guess what that was-”

“So, you- her as well?” Sable asks as she stands there looking at the metal container.

Gearing nods as he says, “Yes. But that ended up weird. I mean it was weird from the start. I mean I’ve gotten offers before but nothing like that…”

“I see,” Sable comments flatly.

Gearing nods. “So, yeah. I mean, you weren’t there. And I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to hide anything from you.”

Sable nods slightly. “T-thank you. For telling me.”

Gearing smiles as he waves a hoof. “Yeah, see… I mean, I think Swift just doesn't understand things…”

“Ah,” Sable comments as she keeps looking at the metal box in front of her. But after a few moments, and Gearing not saying anything else, Sable asks, “Gearing?”

Gearing tilts his head and asks, “Yes, Sable?”

Sable keeps staring at the box before she asks, “Are you telling me this… Because you no longer wish to be with me?”

Gearing blinks a few times before he asks, “What?”

Sable turns her head to look at him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Gearing. I should have turned around after dropping off the foals and come back to you. If you’d just give me anoth-”

Gearing waves his forehooves around. “Whoa, Sable. Hold on a second. What are you going on about?”

She slowly turns around and hangs her head as she asks, “You… you had sex with those other mares, didn’t you?”

Gearing nods. “I mean, yeah?”

Sable rocks her head side to side before she asks, “That… that means I wasn’t there when you needed me… and… wasn’t enough for you, right?”

Gearing claps his forehooves together as he shakes his head. “Whoa, Sable. Hold on a second. -I- wasn’t the one interested in sex. They were the ones that wanted it. I just provided it because the situation called for it. That’s it.”

Sable tilts her head as she asks, “What? B-but… you had sex with them? Did you not?”

Gearing stares at her for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Yes, Sable. I did. That doesn’t mean I liked it, them, or even enjoyed it…”

Sable blinks a few times then slowly sits down. “Wait… you would have sex with individuals you did not like?”

Gearing shrugs as he says. “Well… yes.” He waves his hoof around quickly. “Not that I just try to get into bed with each and every pony I run across. But I like taking the path of least resistance. If I can accomplish a task without bloodshed by shellacking someone into the ground, then that’s the better way of doing it, isn’t it?” He shrugs. “I’ve been doing it for years. Pretty much from the start of my career in the war. Never meant that I cared for them. At least, not in a way that some might think.”

He sees Sable staring at him blank faced and decides to add, “Sable. They just had an itch that needed scratching, and I scratched it for them. Nothing more.”

Sable looks at him for a few more moments before looking at the floor. “Then… you… aren’t leaving me?”

Gearing smirks as he shakes his head. “No… I’m not.”

She looks up at him from under the bangs of her mane as she asks, “Are you bringing them here?”

Gearing raises an eyebrow before he asks, “Why would I even want to do that?”

She tilts her head more to look at him before she asks, “So, you don’t have feelings for them?”

“Correct.”

“But you had sex with them.”

“Also correct.”

“So you have sex with beings you do not have feelings for.”

“Also also correct. If the situation calls for it, anyway,” Gearing replies with a smile.

Sable stares at him for a few moments before asking, “Then… Does my darling Gearing… have feelings for me?”

Gearing stares at her and his eyes go wide. “Why would you-”

She looks off to the side as she asks, “If my darling Gearing doesn't care about those he has intercourse with. And my darling Gearing has intercourse with me. Then my darling Gearing might be doing it even if he doesn't like me…”

Gearing waves his forelegs around. “Hold on, time out.” He walks a bit closer. “Sable, there’s a huuuuuge difference.”

Sable looks up at him and her eyes are barely looking at him as she’s trying but they keep jerking away to focus on something else. Anything else. Besides him.

And it confuses him to the nth degree.

“How?” she asks meekly.

Gearing replies softly, “Sable. I can like someone, and not have sex with them. And I can have sex with someone, who I don’t really like at all. They aren’t connected, at all.”

“They aren’t?” Sable asks as she lifts her head and raises an eyebrow at him.

Gearing walks closer to her. “No. To be honest, sex means nothing to me. It’s a means to an end in the vast majority of instances. It’s a bother in a lot of cases.” They stare at each other for a bit before he deadpans. “It has all of the relationship markers, of changing the oil on a piece of farm equipment. It’s not much more than another form of currency I use…”

Gearing looks off to the side as he lets out a sigh. “Sable, I don't know if it's my curse, or if there's something else going on too. And it’s really hard for me to explain to others. My curse dulls most of my senses or warps them into something unnatural. My sense of taste is unequine… yet I apparently can’t actually ‘taste’. Like I know something has sugar or salt in it, but don’t really understand ‘sweet’ or ‘salty’. My touch is simultaneously sensitive, and dull. I can tell minute differences in texture, temperature, etc. Like I can tell a cloud is soft and a boulder is hard, but as long as I’m not laying wrong on stone where something gets strained or bent, they're both equally comfortable for me to sit or lay on. Neither feels ‘good’. It just is what it is. But beyond that, all I really experience is pain. That’s the only thing I seem to have in common with others. My most sensitive part of my body is, ahem… what you'd expect it to be… But even that doesn't seem to be like other bucks. As sensitive as it is, it still seems toned down compared to most others. Generally speaking.” He looks over at the bags full of scrap as he mutters, “I’m not sure how to put it except I have a sense of touch, yet can’t feel…”

Sable stares at him for a few moments before asking, “So, you do not enjoy intercourse with me?”

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head flops down onto a cloud as it slaps its hooves over its eyes. ‘Oh damn, everything in this entire conversation is ending up in a loop of low self esteem and other nonsense… This curse is fucking sadistic…’

Gearing walks right up to her and asks, “Do you think I’m with you because you let me have sex with you?”

Sable stares at him for a moment, then gives a slow shake of her head. “No. My darling Gearing has even gone so far as to tell me to not feel obligated to do so. So I do not believe my darling Gearing is simply using me for sex.”

Gearing nods as he says, “I know this is going to be hard to understand. I’ve always had a hard time putting it into words. But… Sex just doesn’t- it just doesn’t interest me… Not in the normal way it does most bucks… most ponies… hell, most creatures in general it seems… I just don’t seem to really get anything out of it.” He looks her in the eye and smiles. “So it just doesn't hold the same sway over me. It doesn't have that pull. That link. That… Desire… except…”

Sable tilts her head as she asks, “Except what?”

Gearing leans in just a bit as he says, “Except if I have a connection with someone. If I truly like them. Then… something’s different about it. I can’t explain it but it’s like some kinda switch gets flipped in me. It goes from an annoying thing to get through, to something I don’t mind… and… actually kinda enjoy… Especially if it’s someone I’ve grown close with. Which, frankly, doesn’t happen often. And absolutely never as strongly as it’s felt with you. Like it even feels different. Better. I don’t know, maybe it’s some kind of psychosomatic quirk. But… still… I don’t think it’s really the sex I enjoy. That’s not what I want.”

“What you want?” Sable asks as she desperately tries to follow along with the conversation, but is struggling hard. She rapidly blinks a few times and then asks, “But what about when I first got my new body?” A slight smile crosses her muzzle as she mutters, “You were positively ravenous… Even apologized for not being able to be a gentlestallion before you pinned me to the wall with how intense you rutted me to it. You seemed entirely enraptured with me at the time.”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head looks from her to him and points at her. ‘That’s actually a damn good question.’

Gearing stares at her for a few moments before he replies in a tone like he’s simultaneously in deep thought, yet not even really present. “I- I don’t know. I can’t even explain that to myself either. I never felt such a strong desire in all of my life. It’s like- It’s like I just saw you, and my brain broke. You broke my brain. Because all I could think about was how badly I wanted our bodies smashed together as much as possible. I wanted to be entwined with you so much that all I could feel was you…”

Sable smiles a bit more as she gives her tail a bit of a swish. “Flatterer… I would not mind more of such treatment, you know, my love.”

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head stares at her blue eyes and wipes a bit of drool off of his muzzle as he says, ‘There’s that accent again…’ He glares at Gearing. ‘Fix this. Fix this now. We need to make her understand how special she is.’

“Sable… maybe the best way to get you to understand… is to show you…” He tilts his head as he asks, “May I show you?”

She looks at him for a few moments, and then slowly nods.

Slowly, deliberately, he starts walking towards her. Then he wraps his forehooves around her middle, from the front, and starts snuggling in. He quickly manipulates her backwards, down, and to the ground, until he is half over her with his face buried into her chest. He wraps his wings around her middle, and curls up with her. And as he’s laying there, he closes his eyes, and takes in a deep breath. “This is the difference, Sable… I don’t like you. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be just like this, wrapped up in your limbs, and held tight to you… Sable… all things being created equal… I wouldn't cross a room to have sex with them… with anyone else…. but I’d cross Tartarus on my knees just to be where I am right now. Being held by you is bliss. Having sex with you would just be an extension of being held by you. Another form of closeness. And making you happy makes me happy. And there’s this intoxicating downward spiral that the happier you are the more I want to make it happen and the more it makes me happy. So, yes, I have sex with you because you want to. Because I want to be close to you. Not for the sex. But because you are you and there’s no place on Equus like being held by you.”

Sable slowly wraps her legs around him, holding onto him gently, as she asks, “So… So, you’re not leaving me for some other mare?”

Gearing squeezes into her gently as he lets out a sigh. “Sable… if I had my way, I would literally never leave the confines of your embrace.” He nuzzles into her a bit more as he says, “I don’t know really how other bucks see sex or anything like that. I’ve known others that have gone through torment and hell to just get a piece of tail, any piece…” He simply goes limp and enjoys her embrace for a few moments. “But, when you’re holding me, I kind of get it. And whether we are bumping flanks, hugging, cuddling up, or even just nuzzling each other, I’m happier than I can think of being elsewhere. This is where I want to be. You are what I want.”

She gently rubs his sides with her forelegs before she asks, “Then, my Gearing is still my Gearing?”

He nuzzles her chest a bit, then leans up and kisses her under the chin. “As long as you’ll have me, Sable… And… probably even longer, if I’m being honest…”

She starts holding onto him with all of her limbs, and her cables come out to start slinking over him and around his entire form. “Then… what would my darling Gearing like to do with me, right now, if he could?”

Gearing slowly looks up at her. “I have an idea. And I think it might help in a few ways.”

“Oh?” Sable asks with a slight tilt of her head.

Gearing starts pulling away a bit, and Sable allows him to remove himself from her hold as he nods. “Yeah. But, first…” Gearing looks around. Then he stares at one of the cameras. “Nettlekiss.”

“What do you want, stallion?” Nettlekiss’s voice comes across the speakers of the R&D section with its typical annoyance.

“I would like to have a private conversation with Sable. And there’s something I need to reveal to her that I don’t want anyone else to be aware of.”

“Oh, you have other laundry you need to air out, huh?” Nettlekiss asks with a snarky giggle.

“Yeah,” Gearing says flatly. “And she’s the only one I trust with it. So I hope it’ll help her realize just how special she is to me, and how much she means to me, by my revealing it to her and her alone.”

Nettlekiss’s voice lets out an annoyed groan. “Alright, lover boy, I’ll shut off the speakers in here. Just don’t go digging yourself too much deeper. I need this stable fixed up, and that’s not happening if you make your mare mad and she throws you in the recycler.”

“I’d never!” Sable snorts with a hoof stomp as she glares at the camera, indignant at even the insinuation.

There’s a squawk, and the speakers go silent. Without any further response from Nettlekiss.

Gearing looks over at Sable, and raises an eyebrow. Sable replies quietly, “It’s all off.”

Gearing nods, then starts walking towards the secret room where Sable had been performing robotic surgery on herself. “Okay, then… let’s go in here real quick… just in case she’s being sneaky with the cameras somehow.”

Once inside, and far enough in that he’s absolutely positive that no one will see him nor what he’s about to reveal, he spins around on the floor and faces Sable as she enters in behind him. He politely ignores the table that had been carefully covered up with cloth where Sable had been working earlier.

She walks towards him slowly, pausing a few paces from him. She looks him over for a few moments before asking quietly, “What is it my darling Gearing wishes to reveal to me? Whatever it is, I promise to not be mad or anything like that.”

Gearing smirks and shakes his head. “Sable… I could go on and on about how much I care about you and how much you mean to me. But, I learned long ago that actions speak louder than words.” He takes in a deep breath before looking her in the eye. “What I’m about to show you, there is not another being alive that has seen it. Everyone that had, died two hundred years ago. But, it is something very important to me. And I want it to be something for just us. At least for now, it’ll be a secret between us two.”

She looks back into his eyes, and then quickly darts them all over his body, wondering what it is that he could possibly show her now, before she goes back to giving him dedicated eye contact and a firm nod. “As you wish, my darling Gearing.”

Gearing takes in a long deep breath and closes his eyes as he mentally prepares himself for this. And after finally working up the courage to do so, Gearing activates something that hasn’t been used in over two hundred years.

From the inside of Gearing, a mass pours out of the gaps in his metallic body like polymer going through an extruder. But it doesn’t simply squirt out, out of control, it spills out and then wraps around him in all angles. It quickly zips out along the leading edges of his wings, then down and over them. Until every single bit of him is covered in the cream colored malleable material. Then it seems to take more form, retracting and stretching outward in places as it starts taking on a form of its own. And for a couple moments, it looks like a pony that’s been entirely shaved except for his tail and mane, but as soon as the new body has achieved its apparently preferred shape, the missing hair rapidly shoots out. In the case of his wings, they seem to have been coated in the same material, but instead of fur, the stained glass looking wings now look like fluffy fuzzy feathers. In a matter of seconds, his entire visage has been replaced. Even his metallic mane, tail, and eyes seem to have gotten a coating of the material that shifted in color to change to something new.

And there, in place of the golden glorious bastard, is a bit bigger pegasus buck that is an identical copy of the one that has been keeping up residence in Gearing’s mind space; even if Sable wouldn’t know that. His face has even changed, structurally, to make him not even look like the same buck anymore. A bit more angular to go with the more fit athletic tone of the rest of his body. And there are more than a few markers on said face that if any family member of a certain war hero happened to look at him, they might do a double take and wonder if he were the product of a secret love affair involving their martyred kin. Even if he is a very dark blue pegasus.

His nostrils flare as he lets out a gush of air and opens his eyes, revealing striking green irises that matched his natural green wings by design. He stretches his neck side to side, making an audible creaking sound as his blue mane swishes side to side. He glances down at himself, then flares out his wings and slowly looks them over as if he’s confirming that they are still there.

After confirming that the transformation is indeed complete, he looks over at Sable and gives her a rather charming smile as he points at himself with a hoof. “This is me.” The voice coming out not matching the one she’s been used to hearing. There’s no slight hiss or whistle that comes out sometimes, especially when he gets emotional. The tone is even a bit deeper. Like an older, more mature buck. No longer does he have as many of those youthful traits that Gearing managed to display, he looks more in his true prime.

In Gearing’s mind space an elevator car rises up from the clouds underneath. After it stops, a ding chimes, and the doors open. The little blue pegasus in his head looks over and waves as his metallic gold counterpart steps out of the elevator and onto the cloud space.

After the elevator fades away like mist, the little blue pegasus waves around vaguely. ‘Where the hell you been? I’ve been stuck with this clown alone for longer than is healthy!’

The green winged metallic buck shrugs and takes flight, before landing near his blue skinned friend. ‘Wasn’t my idea. Last I remember was you taking over to go talk to that asshole at Stable-tec after I found that whacked out shit in the archives while fucking around in the system…’ He looks around and raises an eyebrow. ‘The fuck is this, what’d I miss?’

The little blue pegasus tosses the little gold pegasus a book as he sighs, ‘A lot. Just, a lot… Here's the usual cliff notes versions for things you need to be aware of; don’t worry about the rest.’

The other pegasus sits down on the clouds and starts reading as he mutters, ‘I think I need to start worrying if you’re going to do shit to get me blasted through time…’

‘Don’t sweat the details.’

‘I’ll give you some tails to sweat, you keep it up…’ After a few moments of reading he nods his chin towards Sable. ‘Who’s the mare that’s giving the flutteries?’

The little blue pegasus grins as he replies, ‘A mare that could save or destroy the world as far as we’re concerned.’

Sable looks him over, her eyes wide as she takes in every detail. She’d watched it happen. But it’s still hard for her to believe. “G-Gearing? Is that you?”

Gearing takes a few slow steps towards her. “Yes, Sable. It’s me.” He walks up to her, grabs her forehoof, and puts it to his cheek. He nuzzles it gently, giving her a good feel of his face. And, for the first time, his face seems pliable to her. Muscular, but with just the right amount of yield where it should. “During the war they gave me the opportunity to hide my curse. It took a long time and a lot of effort, and I can’t even begin to calculate how much money in resources went into it. But. One of the implants I have in myself allows me to look like this. The way that I should be. The way that I would be if it wasn’t for that fucking curse.” He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath before letting it out. “At least this is how I envision myself. There’s no way to do any imaging because I don’t normally bleed so there’s no DNA to test or manipulate.” He opens his eyes and smiles at her. “But this is me. And all of me is for you. Even this secret part.” He leans over and gives her a soft kiss, leaving just a hint of moisture on her cheek.

She slowly starts running her forehoof over his cheek, then down and around the dark blue fur covered hide on his neck. She gently runs it through his blue mane, caressing and squeezing as she goes. “This is going to take a bit to get used to, my love,” she murmurs as she leans in, closes her eyes, and gives the side of his muzzle a kiss. Then her cables come out, and start wrapping all over his body. And he stands there, rather limply, as he lets her explore his new body with her cables. And then, predictably, her cables end up on his hind end where they start quickly squeezing and taking measurements.

Her eyes shoot open as she looks him in the eye. Her blue eyes meeting his green. And her shocked expression juxtaposed with his knowing smirk. She keeps squeezing and groping his rear as she mutters, “Your ass! It’s- it’s still there! But, bigger somehow?! It’s so- so juicy! How?!”

Gearing snickers and snorts as he tries to look away. Then he glances at her sideways and comments, “The way the implant works, it’s not simply an illusion. The first iterations were. This one actually covers my entire body. And can’t simply be dispelled.” He uses a hoof, brings some of his blue mane hair around, and shows her as he says, “Even my hairs have a ridiculously small coating to them. Along with a few other enchantments to make them less stiff and more pliable. But, for my body, there’s a much thicker coating. All designed to give the outward appearance, and, as you can tell, feel, of real flesh and blood. With some spots even being extra stiff to mimic bones. So, yeah, certain parts of me have thicker coatings, but it’s all still based on my actual body.”

She closes her eyes just a bit as she smiles. “It’s nice and shapely too.”

He leans his head against hers, touching foreheads as he looks into her eyes. “So… think you can get used to it?”

“Hmm?” Sable asks absentmindedly as she continuously massages his rear end. “Oh. That? Already done. Your wonderful flank is all the reassurance that I needed.”

Gearing snickers and even shimmies his hips a bit back into her cables as he stretches backwards and lets her have a good feel. “Glad you approve.”

Sable looks him over before asking, “So, you showed me this, your truth, as a display of your loyalty and dedication to me?”

The little golden pegasus in Gearing’s head raises an eyebrow as he glances up from the book at Sable. ‘What was with that accent there? She’s gone from something like a hoity toity Canterlot, to something a bit more… exotic?’

The little blue pegasus points at her as he stares at the golden pegasus. ‘I know, right?!’

Gearing bobs his head around before saying softly, “Something like that. I’m sorry, Sable, but I’m not the greatest when explaining myself like this. Haven’t exactly had a lot of practice with it.”

She gives him a beaming smile before nodding. “I understand perfectly, my darling Gearing.” She gives his rear a few extra squeezes of appreciation before letting go and stepping back. “Well, given our recent conversation, then I do have a question for you.”

“And what’s that, Sable?”

She tilts her head and asks sweetly, “Such devotion deserves reward… If you could do whatever you wish right now, what would you want?”

He gives her a warm smile. “I already told you, silly… If I could…” He fast-steps over, quickly wrapping his forelegs around her middle and pushing her over and to the side so they return to the same snuggling position that they were just in a few moments ago. “I’d like to stay like this…” He nuzzles into her chest, draping his wings around and embracing her whole body with them, as he groans out in delight. “Just like this… With you holding me.”

“So my darling Gearing really meant it when he said his favorite place in the world is being held in my embrace?” she asks in a hushed whisper as if she was worried speaking too loud would shatter such a wonderful truth for her.

“Mmm hmm,” Gearing simply mutters as he nuzzles in more, and she quickly wraps him up with her limbs and her cables as she very obviously wants to reciprocate the affections he’s showing her. He lets out a sigh as he simply goes limp and lets her do whatever she wants with him. “I’ve had a really bad time since we last saw each other, Sable…” He slowly tucks his face in under her chin as he groans. “A… bad… bad… time…”

She starts gently massaging him all over as she asks, “Can you tell me about it?”

Gearing lets out a sigh but then nods lightly. “If you want… but… it’s bad… and… I don’t want you feeling bad about it… Plus there’s a few parts that I don’t want you telling Swift or the others, it's… bad…”

Sable pulls him up a bit more, so his face is well and truly buried into the crook of her neck. “Tell me everything, Gearing. I want to hear it all. And whatever you do not wish me to tell the others, just say so, and I shall not…” She trails a forehoof up and begins gently massaging the back of his head and playing with his blue mane.

The little golden pegasus stares blankly in silence for a while before commenting, ‘I’d conquer armies and kingdoms for this mare…Must protec.’

‘Now you get it,’ the little blue pegasus replies while staring at Sable and offering his forehoof. After the golden pegasus completes the bro hoof clop, the little blue pegasus adds, ‘Good to have you back, buddy. Welcome to the shit show.’

Gearing lets out a low moan of approval as she gently caresses him all over in a warm embrace. “Gods I love you, Sable.”

“And I love you, as well, my darling Gearing.” She gives him a squeeze as she smiles. “And, as for the ‘credits’ we had talked about before… Please forget it. I would not joke about such things if I knew that you felt the way you do.”

He gently pulls up, looks her in the face, and then tenderly rubs a hoof across her cheek. “Sable, I already told you… with you… it’s different…” He moves in to kiss her, but then says softly into her mouth, “You earned every single one… And I actually look forward to you ‘cashing in’…” Then he gives her a kiss that he, himself, escalates into a deep tongue tonsil sparring match.

Yet, despite his actions, and blatant open invitation, the pair simply return to cuddling after indulging for a few minutes. And, instead of cashing in the ‘credits’ she’s earned, she opts for prodding him for information. They return to the comfortable position he’d declared to be his favorite, wrapped up in her limbs, and simply talk. And, through their talk, she learns everything that had happened since they had separated nearly two weeks ago. And the more he talks, the more she feels like she had made the right call on their activities for the night. And, the more she comforts him, and provides a soothing place for him to air out his soul, the more he feels comfortable enough that he lets it out. Like an over-pressurized tank that's finally had its relief valve triggered. He even tells her the atrocities that he discovered that lead him to burn down an entire building full of live ponies. The bare facts that he’d kept to himself, and, obviously, swore her to do the same. But, after everything else, her understanding of him grows. As does her anger and fear for what he’d been through. What he was willing to put himself though. The disasters around Chapel, both at ground level and below, make her quite fearful for what could happen to her beloved. She’d almost lost him, and wasn’t even aware of it. And, worst of all, she realizes that even if she were there, there’s nothing in her range of abilities to have mitigated what had happened. And it just makes her want to protect him all the more. As much as she can anyway. But, at the same time, let him do what he needs to do when he needs to do it. Because as the tunnels to The Core prove to her, her silly stallion can get himself into some really deep trouble. But, he’s also capable of getting himself out of it. If he’s allowed to act freely. And a growing hope sprouts in her that, one day, she’ll be able to protect him the way he needs, when he needs, and when it’s a case that he truly can’t do it himself.

She wants to get better. For him.

Footnote:

Matrix Quadrant ‘Personal’ Status: Ready.

‘BlueMac.Cred’ Sub Partitioned Successfully

‘BlueMac.Matrix’ Verified

Processing . . . Verifying Matrix Status

Processing . . . Reinitializing, Please Stand By. . .

Author's Note

Answers a plenty, including for some things that had been bought up many chapters ago.

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