Harvest Winds had a problem.
As one of the few proprietors of food among the shops that composed the still-habitable portions of Tenpony Tower, Red Eye's siege could not come at a worse time. With the masses of troops outside, no caravan runner in their right mind would be making an approach. And supplies were dwindling fast--today alone he'd closed four hours early in a meager attempt to ration what was left, instead of his normal two.
Still, he knew this would not be enough. The only chance they would have to keep their home is with fresh supplies. Well, 'fresh' was a relative term in the Equestrian Wastes, and just about anything he could get his hooves on would have to do.
Being the self-managing economic center that it was, Tenpony was remarkably unprepared for an impromptu siege. After all, the security force did an excellent job of controlling access to most of the Wasteland's undesirables, but not isolating them to the point of receiving regular shipments from local caravaneers. That last shipment was, bluntly, less than adequate, and the trader promised a return within the week carrying additional stock. Which, of course, had been shunted by Red Eye's approach, leaving a slowly starving spire of ponykind to wither as a result.
What concerned most residents was the apparent lack of concern amongst the merchant's group. Rather, the lack of a merchant's "group" at all. As tensions began to rise in the tower, each shopkeeper had devised their own way to combat the shortages of their inventory. Some, like Harvest, simply closed early. Less hours meant less patrons, but at the expense of potential profit. Others chose the more purse-friendly method of raising prices. While the rest of the Wasteland fought and died for clean water, the luxury of Tenpony would be in its slowly shrinking food supplies.
Sighing, Harvest dug through his store room, amidst discarded boxes and bags of cans to clean and recycle lay a battered wooden trunk. Outwardly unimpressive, an old Abuckso Cleaner shipping crate with worn labeling, its contents were the stallion's only possessions that could help at this point. Several pieces of leather barding were pulled from the crate and donned, the aged leather slightly tighter than he'd remembered. A life of relative luxury in the safety of Tenpony had meant what lean muscles the pegasus had in his youth were, kindly put, much less defined.
"Not the courier I used to be..." he chuckled sourly, tugging at the bunches of fabric under the leather pads in a small attempt to get comfortable. When he was satisfied, he set to work digging the rest of his own meager supplies out. The pair of Stimpaks were woefully close to their expiration date, while the Dandy Colt snack cakes were no more than two bricks of decades-stale oats, and were promptly chucked into the trash. The bottles of "purified" water looked somewhat less pure with age, the bits of unused purifying tablets lazily suspended in the tinted liquid. Waste not, want not.
Pushing the battered crate aside, the pegasus approached what appeared to be a small puddle of vapor swirling around the area the crate once took up, starkly contrasted against the cracking and aged tile it was set into. Cloud architecture was a rarity here on the surface world, but surface-born pegasi could construct simple locks, and even terminals, should the need arise. In Harvest's case, the need was certainly there, as the contents of his safe were enough to see him exiled from Tenpony without question.
"Do I even remember the combination, though, aheh..." he muttered, digging his hoof into the milky surface, a sensation not unlike dipping one's hoof into a bowl of ice water. Though, if he were asked what it actually felt like, he probably couldn't describe it to anypony's satisfaction. Distracted as he was in his efforts to unlock the long-disused safe, the pegasus hadn't even noticed that he was being watched.
"They still camped outside? The Eyesores?" the earth mare nickered as she set the plate down. Two wilted broccoli florets and a carrot that looked more like an orange string bean were haphazardly tossed in the center.
"Would y'all stop calling them that, Daisy?" her unicorn customer grunted, tugging the forelegs up a bit on her barding, as if she were going to eat with her hooves. "Just like us, they are. Even if'n y'all don't think it."
"Mh-hmm, 'til one of them opens up their own diner on the Upper Ring, I won't be holding my breath. Twenty five caps, doll."
"Y'all are just lucky to be open later than the others." she sighed, floating a small pouch of caps in her amber magic onto the mare's counter, while cutting the sad portion of food into even smaller pieces, a trick she'd had to pick up so her stomach wouldn't growl all shift. More bites meant more food, silly stomach.
Iron Spike was an oddity, in more than just name. As a mare, most expected her to shy away from the rough-and-tumble of being in the Tenpony security forces, but after what amounts to extensive experience with defending oneself from raiders and slavers in the Wasteland, she found little peace in a quiet life. Her first few months as a visitor saw her locked up more than once, but she quickly established her reputation by showing up in Grimstar's office each time, having thwarted what attempts were made to contain her. Rather than leave such a capable pony to the Wastes, she was offered a position, so long as she used her "talents" for Tenpony citizens.
"How 'bout one fer the road, darlin'?" she called, rattling a flask expectantly at the diner mare.
"How 'bout ten more caps, sugarcube?" was her retort, with a smirk, as she showed little interest in moving until she saw more of the hard-earned unicorn's pay.
"I swear, 'tween you an' Harvest, Ah'll be in debt by tomorrow!" she groused, but produced the caps, floating them one at a time to various points along the mare's bar. If she wanted those damn caps so bad, she could actually work for it!
"Oh, please. Everypony knows he's sweet on you except you! Now go on, get outta here. Closing time was ten minutes ago." she shooed the mare off, sliding her flask down the counter, loathe to get up after spending the whole day on her hooves.
Catching it in her magic, Iron took a healthy swig as she stepped onto the balcony that made up the Lower Ring, before sputtering and coughing a bit, accidentally keying her broadcaster in the process. "Is this whiske--Er, uh, Lynx to Tower, ready to receive." Iron stammered into her broadcaster, cursing herself for the slip. What was she expecting the flask to be filled with?
"Roger, *Whiskey*. You're on Lower Ring tonight, so try not to pass out in the library. Again. Tower out."
Iron Spike grumbled as she switched off the broadcaster, slowly scanning the dead space ahead of her. With the siege going on, security had enacted a curfew, to ensure that any attempts at a nighttime infiltration would much more noticeable without the constant din of congregating citizens. Save for the occasional nighttime excursion by Homage, DJ-Pon3's assistant, most residents were keen to stay indoors as requested.
As her path continued, taking her past more boarded up shops than still operating ones, she stopped. The facade of Harvest Wind's "Oats and Coats" was dark, as she expected. What she did not expect was the door to be wide open, or for the faint sounds of shuffling movement. Barely missing a beat, the unicorn flipped her broadcaster on again.
"Lynx to Tower."
"What's up, Whiskey?"
"Suspicious activity, Oats and Coats. Door's open, and I think there's someone inside, but I can't be sure."
"W-Wait, really?" the operator stuttered, not sure if this was a joke by the unicorn or not. "Uh, let's see... You've got... You've got Fox on Upper Ring moving to you. Advise hold for backup."
The problem with augmenting your security force with a unicorn that spent most of their time escaping it, is that you can never be sure that they'll do what they're told to do. In Iron's case, the five or even ten minutes it could take for her backup to arrive were a waste, and that she could be more than a match for whatever dumb crook decided to pilfer those oats. Or coats!
Careful to avoid making unnecessary noise, the mare slipped inside, pushing the door almost completely closed, to dissuade any would-be followers. Picking her way through the general-store-slash-diner was easy enough, as most of the inventory that would be on display had already been sold, a simple chalkboard against the wall showing what remaining supplies the pegasus had left. The shuffling sounds grew louder as she made her way to the back of the store, having to step over empty cardboard boxes and discarded tins. It was never this messy in here...
Looking up, Iron froze in place as she locked eyes on the shopkeeper himself. It took effort to keep from calling out to him; with the storeroom door canted at just the right angle, she couldn't be sure if the stallion had any uninvited guests. As a precaution, the security mare unclipped her baton, swinging it through the air with a metallic ~shhhnk!~ to extend it fully, hoping it wouldn't alert anyone to her presence.
"Leeeeft two... Up three... And.... Shit, down one? Or was it three?" Harvest muttered, still cautiously prodding the swirling mass. With a soft hiss, the rectangular cloud curled back to the edges, revealing a small floor safe. Hey, presto! Hoofing at the dials, the stallion managed to unlock this with much more ease, metal hatch clicking open in a matter of moments.
It had been quite a while since he'd needed the prize that this safe held, longer still since he'd had to use it. It was a miracle he was even able to get it through the front gates, but subtle packaging, and a little not-so-subtle bribery, ensured he was able to stow this particular acquisition away from prying eyes. Lifting the butcher-papered bundle out of the recess, he laid it atop the pile of debris and carefully unfurled it, making sure none of the cobalt blue pieces were able to roll off.
All the while, Iron remained crouched in the shadows, *feeling* the minutes tick by, baton at the ready. It wasn't enough that the mare went in solo, but that her backup could barge in behind her, blowing her cover and escalating the situation. Slowly, she crept back to the doorway and eased herself out onto the walkway. Fox was nowhere to be seen...
"Tower, Lynx. *Where the hell is my backup*?!" she hissed into her broadcaster.
"Lynx, uh... s-sorry about that backup." came the timid reply, and Iron was sure she could hear hooves clicking together in nervousness.
"Well?!"
"Fox is offline. We're having to divert patrols from other areas to search for him. We just can't spare anypony right now. A-Advise your status... please."
"Ah haven't been able to perform a full sweep yet, but Ah can confirm Harvest is inside. Unknown if there are any others."
"Copy that, Lynx. If you can confirm there are no others inside, make contact. Otherwise... Well, l-Let's just hope we can keep it to Plan A for now. Tower out."
Rolling her eyes, the mare made it back to the shop entrance, where the rustling noise had been replaced with sharp metallic *plinks!* of something being assembled. What the shit was going on?
Miraculously, the pegasus was still completely oblivious to the mare's movements, all of his focus squarely on the device he was rebuilding. With the last few twists and rather generous hoofsmacks on his part, all of the individual pieces had been assembled. Iron had resumed her crouched hiding by the counter, Harvest's flank visible through the doorway.
"Hope this thing still has a charge..." he muttered absently, fishing in the bottom of the safe with a wingtip, and pulling a single spark battery up. Carefully slotting it into the back of the device, his intense expression turned into a soft grin as the contraption lit up, the menacing orange glow of a Novasurge rifle pulsing in the rather small storeroom.
Harvest had never shared the story of its acquisition with anyone, and he hoped he'd never have to. This gun was the reason he'd lost his family, his home, and, eventually, his career as a courier. The residents of Tenpony were some of the few that had never heard the story, and, he hoped, never woul--
Iron was done waiting! If there were somepony else here, surely she would have heard them by now. And she wasn't going to give the pegasus another moment with the weird orange glowing that had started!
"Tenpony Security! Y'all hold it right there!" Iron called out as she rounded the counter, baton suspended midair. She didn't want to use it, especially against the pegasus, but one can never be too cautious in the Wasteland.
"Th-The fuck?!" the stallion shouted, nearly dropping his newly-assembled weapon. Unfortunately, his scramble to catch it landed a hoof right on the trigger, sending a burst of scorching laser right towards the unicorn!
The wooden door dissolved in a flash of orange light, the powdered ash that once composed it landing in a heap on the tile. The second shot went wide, one grazing the edge of the counter, and the unicorn's left shoulder, before landing a scorched mark on an empty wall that once housed sacks of grain. The final beam burned a hole right through the peeled letter C of the storefront, and went on to leave a similar scorch on the inside of the Upper Ring.
Pain, unlike the unicorn had ever felt before, seared into her now-exposed shoulder, the standard-issue barding not offering much protection from energy weaponry. She slumped her right side against the back wall, lifting her left foreleg off the ground to reduce the pressure on her shoulder
"Ahhhhhhh'll tan yer fuckin' hide, Harvest!" she groaned, trying to blink through the burning sensation, baton breaking chunks of plaster from the wall of the storeroom as her magic lashed out in a blind rage.
"Goddesses! Iron, is that you?!" Harvest said, making sure to carefully set the rifle down before ducking out of the storeroom to reach her. Luckily, the unicorn's baton had finally found itself embedded *through* the wall, so the most she could hit him with were angry words.
"Y'all know good an' well it's me, ya featherhead!" she groused, still trying to keep herself steady against the faded wall. At the pegasus' approach, she shrank back a bit, almost as if readying herself to tackle him. "What in the hell... do y'all have A GUN fer?!" she managed to pant out, blinking some of the pained tears from her eyes.
"If you don't keep it down, your friends are going to find us, and then you'll never find out. Look, I know it hurts..." Harvest spoke slowly, putting a hoof on the unicorn's side. "..and I'll answer all your questions. But you have got to stop yelling."
Gritting her teeth, the mare slowly sank to the floor, keeping her body leaned towards the wall. The immediate pain was starting to die down, mostly due to the cauterizing effect of the laser, but the wound was still an ugly crimson against her pale yellow coat, what was left of it around the scorched area.
"I've got a stimpak here that will help heal the physical damage, but not the scarring. Would you like it?" the male offered, pulling the syringe from a pocket sewn into his barding. "It'll be better than trying to walk it off, for sure."
"It's a start, Ah guess." Iron grunted, weakly tugging the medication from the pegasus with her magic, briefly grimacing as she punctured the skin on her left foreloeg, and injected the contents. Where the the wound was still a slow burn before the injection, the Stimpak kicked it up to balefire levels, drawing another pained scream from the security mare.
"C'mon, Iron! You need to stifle it, or we're both gonna be in trouble! Here, bite down if you have to. JUST SHUT UP." he instructed, wrapping his wing around the front of her muzzle and pressing insistently. She took the hint, groaning pitifully as her teeth clenched around the pegasus' wingbone.
"A-Alright, there, there... shouldn't be... ngh... much longer." he grunted, keeping his voice as even as possible, the pressure in his wing uncomfortable, but not overwhelming. His right wing stroked down her back gently, trying to calm the injured mare as best he could. Were they in any other situation, Harvest would have been ecstatic to be this close to the unicorn, but he managed to push those thoughts from his head. There's a time and a place for that, brain.
"Is there anypony else with you?" he asked quietly, gently extricating his gnawed wing from the unicorn's mouth.
"B-Blitz was supposed to be here, but they don't know where he is... They sent the other patrols after him." she managed, breathing heavily, but finally beginning to calm down. Her left foreleg felt both hot and numb, which was sure to make walking interesting.
The pegasus nodded slowly, canting back to the storeroom and hoisting his weapon again, the deep blue metal nearly blending with his coat as he tucked it under his right wing. Before returning to the downed mare, he tugged the collapsible baton free of the wall, grimacing instantly at the taste of the handle.
"You ever wash this thing?" he nickered, spitting the foul-tasting baton out, which was instantly caught in the mare's amber magic, twirled mid-air, collapsed, and floated into her holster.
"Why? Not like Ah eat with it." she smiled a bit, stifling a snicker to keep from wincing in pain. She watched the stallion shake his head again, as he crossed the shop to inspect the damage his misfire had done.
"Just finished paying off that window, too." he sighed, bending down to lift his "Closed! Please Come Again!" sign and fit it securely in the door again, before closing and locking it.
"Iron, I need to... would you stop that!" he managed to choke down a shout, nearly smacking himself in the face as he turned back to the mare, her baton hovering a few inches away. Iron had managed to find her footing again, propped up against the scorched edge of the counter, and her amber eyes were practically boring through the stallion like a Novasurge beam through glass.
"Why... do y'all... have... A FUCKIN' GUN?!" she panted, the effort of keeping her weight balanced coupled with the dull ache of regrowing muscle taking a bit of a toll.
"First! of all, laser beats baton, so I'd put that thing away, again, if I were you. And second, if you pulp my brains, you won't get the answers you're looking for. Don't be dumb about this. If I was going to hurt you... on purpose... then I would have done it while you were crying on the ground." the stallion glowered, slightly annoyed that the mare he'd just healed was still trying to beat him.
"Harvest... just tell me why y'all have a gun... please..." the mare pleaded, slowly lowering the baton back to her side.
"Will you stop trying cave my skull in if I do?"
"Can't guarantee it, nah. But Ah'll at least wait for ya to finish."
"Fine, look... It's mine, alright? It was issued to me when I was a courier for the Manetangle Express. When I left, I kept it, and paid off Grimstar to bring it into the Tower with me."
"So, why are y'all rebuilding it? Goin' somewhere?"
"Look around you, Iron. This tower is dying! There's barely any food left, and no caravans are coming. I'm not going to starve here. I'm... I'm actually going to do something about it."
Iron stared at the pegasus, a hint of a frown on her muzzle. One pony and one gun could only make it so far in the Wasteland. Especially when that one pony was a pegasus, a prize for any slaver or raider.
"Alone?"
"If I have to."
