Author's Note

this chapter is from Jets perspective
Edited by Kiernan

Welcome to Mud 3

The trek north seemed to take a millennium, navigating through the winding woods and avoiding the blood-red mist that permeated the lands of Olinea. To say it was a tiresome experience was probably fair. I’d say I had it the worst out of everyone, with me and our griffon friend having to fly at such a slow pace that I’d just resigned myself to walking.

At least, we had the luxury of listening to the faint, staticy audio drama of Dr. Hooves emanating out of Enjin’s chrome dome. The radio play had some great and terrible moments, not that I was listening that closely, and at one point, Aurora made the grave mistake of sparking conversation with Enjin on the audio drama. Now I had a portion of my brain cramped with Dr. Hooves knowledge, as well as Enjin’s opinions on all of it. Thankfully, they ended the flood of knowledge dense enough to fill a wiki around the halfway point of our few-mile-trek, having been eclipsed by our trot.

I wasn't saved from knowing Enjin’s preferred entries in the series being the stories of the many robotic races of the series; whether the robot brains from another universe gone mad or the cyber-zebras that sought to kill the titular Dr. Hooves and his companions. He loved them all; that much was obvious, though he couldn't relent on the trivia about his favorite entries where said cyber-zebras were first introduced in the “modern” era of the radio drama.

As I trotted along and hoped for the mist to clear up and let me fly, it did no such thing. This left me to my thoughts, primarily of home. Well, my former home, and with it, my cybernetic enhancements that I hoped didn't classify me as more machine then mare… or pony, given the addition between my legs. Thankfully, I wasn't allotted a lot of time to think about that before my eyes set upon our destination and my hoof gave Enjin’s chrome dome a good knocking.

“Vee are awake, vee’re awake! You can stop vith the tapping!" he called out, the crackle of static making his microphone peak painfully in our collective ears, sparing only Shimmering Raindrops. Cross seemed to be the most affected. She was the first zebra I’d seen outside of a textbook, and I hadn't talked to her at all thus far. It makes you wonder just how much of a prewar textbook might have been correct about them.

With a wet clap of hooves splashing fluid, Shimmering called our attention, save for Gwen’s. She, for the last few minutes, had resigned herself to sleeping, dragged by Aurora on a feed sack she’d scavenged from the cabins. “Alright, before we do anything, I need you lot to split up and scout the town. See if they have any hostility towards any of our group before we head in as a whole.”

I shrugged at that, turning first to Cross, but then second-guessing the decision, turning to something only a tad less familiar. “Aurora, you and me?” I asked, prompting her to look at Gwen.

She was about to speak, but was cut off by Raindrops. “I'll keep an eye on the griffon on that hill over there,” she said, nodding in the direction of the land.

Before continuing, I had a split-second idea, first. Swiping Gwen’s hat off her face, I flicked the dust off of it with a quick jerk of my head and threw it up in the air to hopefully land on my own head.

By the fourth attempt, I gave up, scooping it up with my hoof and plopping the now just a bit more worn sheriff hat on my head. Now I was ready, despite the curious raised eyebrow Aurora was giving me and Cross Stitch’s indifference.

“Well, I suppose if Enjin and Mrs. Cross are going to pair themselves up, I can go with you.”

Cross simply nodded in agreement, not giving Enjin a chance to speak up. I started trotting at more than a brisk pace, afraid I’d end up saddled with Cross Stitch and experience an awkward silence for the rest of the hours to come.

Looking back, sure enough, my plan to escape said fate worked. Aurora followed behind me, making sure to follow the path, unlike myself. I’d skidded along the dirt into the mud of the streets, a detail about the town she visibly disliked on approach. Shimmering Raindrops stood, watching us head into town before turning to Cross and Enjin heading off to the other end of the settlement, writing something in one of her waterproof books.

The town's shape was a bit odd to me. It was organized like J, only it had a shorter neck. The letter was on its side with the hook going under the text line, and there was a sharp jutting line from the top. Like I said, weird.

Aurora and I took the jutted length that seemed to be the main road. It was lined with, notably, a bar and the largest building in town, while the others took the tip of the hook. A sheriff’s office and homes along the street turned to businesses until the corner where our paths merged.

I didn't gaze on the town any longer to collect more details before turning to look at Aurora and gauge her, all without missing a beat with my hooves stepping backwards. Also, why in the name of Luna’s gaped rectum was walking backwards so difficult?

“I have a hat, and I look badass in it!” I boasted, walking backwards and looking my unicorn tagalong in the face.

She looked at me with several levels of disappointment, making me frown, albeit a bit flatly and dramatically. “For someone your age, you act quite childish, you know,” she said, confirming that my antics were prompting a rise out of her.

“So she isn't some emotionless, stone-faced stick in the mud. Good.” I quickly thought to myself as I flipped around. My integrated ass engines turned to the unicorn as I dug my hooves into the muddy street.

“Wanna race to the first building?” I quickly asked, looking back to her under my partially metal wings to a worried look. As she went to speak and raise a hoof, presumably to stop me, I cut her off. “Oh well, see you in town!”

The first building was about ten yards away as I snapped my face forward, narrowed my eyes, and lifted my wings up and forward. Slamming them back and down, I stomped my rear leg to the side. Fire shot out from my engine, first orange and then blue, sending me rocketing forward down the muddy street.

For the first ten feet or so, my wings splayed back out and I tried to pick up my hooves from slipping and splaying out under me, slinging mud all over the place. This attempt at stabilizing and picking up didn't work that well. Though, considering this was the second unsanctioned use of the cybernetic hip, waist and ass thrusters that had ever occurred, I counted it as a personal achievement to have made it just over seven yards before my face met the mud-slickened street.

I could practically feel the painful recoil and wince Aurora made behind me, however the pain of my teeth dragging along the muddy ground, the crushing of my nose, and the hard roll and tumble my body made, bending my neck and spine to send me bouncing and flipping into the porch of the bar, definitely hurt worse.

I lay still in the mud like a dead bird for a little bit with a splitting headache, twitching wings, and crushed cyber nuts. Then, the still very weird sensation of a unicorn's telekinesis lifting me made me shake a bit uncomfortably. Not that it was noticeable against the firm but physically undetectable sensation. I obviously knew it was Aurora picking me up, but looking down and seeing her as she sat me on my hooves was a nice confirmation.

My entire front was caked with mud, making my pristine white fur and the years of good care that had come with it a horrible loss in both beauty and time. Even if I didn't care too deeply for the former, my mom had hammered it into my head that you had to look good when talking to important ponies, and even more so when showing off.

So the crash was a dent to my ego, almost as big a dent as the pegasus face-shaped hole in the planks of the very hard porch. Not only was I now a mess, but I had made an ass of myself.

I trotted over to the dent. There was a crumpled-up, filth-covered brown hat that'd been turned even browner somehow buried in that slop. Tugging it up with my teeth, a glob of nasty mud fell out. I rolled my eyes, hoping that Gwen wouldn't cause too much of a fuss over this.

I lifted a wing, using my feathers like a griffon’s claws and slapped my hat into place, patting it down and wiggling it a bit. My red and orange bitonal parted mane gained new brown sludge streaks as I wiped my face with my wings, especially my eyes and as far up into my nose as I could, before flicking the mud off my wings and hacking up a loogie of the shit.

As for the rest of my body, I was thankfully covered in my traditional dark gray and black flight uniform. As far as I was concerned, nothing of value had been tarnished in regards to that. I turned to Aurora, who was simply watching me with a look of intrigue. “Alright, I think that's as much as I'm gonna be able to manage on my own. Cast that dirt-remover spell of yours.”

Aurora gave me the weirdest look at that request. “D-dirt-remover spell?” she asked, cocking her head as we both just stood out in the mud in broad daylight. Thankfully, it seemed like a smaller than tiny community. Of course, that also meant that word would travel like gold on the gossip mill.

“Yeah, you know; the swirly-whish-swoosh dirt picker-upper and tossing spell,” I said with exasperation and confusion. “Did land-lovers call it something else?” That's what I was assuming at this point, but I’d seen plenty of unicorns cast the spell in the S.P.P. tower where I was being kept during and after the surgeries.

“I, uh… Yeah, I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she flatly stated to my dismay.

With a groan and a snort, I turned to the bar, the first building we came to on the street. Nopony was outside, but there was a decent enough commotion heard inside to let me know that if I went in first and didn't make a good impression, I’d be screwed; up mud-covered creek without wings.

“Aurora, you’re going in first,'' I stated flatly, hoping the unicorn would just go along with it. She stepped up with me, both of us still standing in the mud before the steps as she gave me the latest look of suspicion. Her raised eyebrow prompted an added bonus to entice her, as much as it hurt me. “Here, you can even borrow the hat.” At that, I slapped my sole appearance-saver on her head, giving her a mud mane. I was very happy that her horn stuck out the front instead of stabbing through it.

Her face was immediately one of discomfort at the cold, muddy hat being placed on her. But unlike one of my former superiors, she didn't yell at me. She only sighed and started heading into the building. I followed her as my wings were lifted up, taking my body with them. I soon realized what was happening.

“W-wait, Aurora, I meant for you to go in and talk for us!” Reasoning with her was impossible at this point, and I was flipped upside down and carried needlessly painfully, like a pegasus-shaped tote bag into the single door of the structure. The remains of a screen door served in place of the doorway as I was carried in. I’d failed my mother. I knew I was going to be a laughing stock as soon as I went in.

And then, nothing happened. A second later, I was dropped on my backside, and ow, my wings. That said, nopony had reacted to us entering, the way I looked, or the thud of my cybernetic body against the hardwood flooring.

“Seems you were worked up over nothing. There's nopony here.”

Sure enough, looking around as I pulled myself up, Aurora was telling the truth. All the commotion I’d heard was a terminal playing some sort of show; a western set in a bar for the screen in question, something not quite up my alley; more Gwen’s thing.

I went to say something, but my words caught in my throat like the bullet jamming in the revolver on the show. Something just felt incorrect to me, even as a non-western fan. The reason I shushed up was a door opening behind the bar and a shadowy figure stepping out. A tall equine? A mammal for sure.

He came to the bar, whistling and wearing nothing but the light brown fur he was born with and with gemstones, trinkets and the like hanging from his antlers. Aurora must have picked up my stupidity regarding what he was. Leaning closer to me, she whispered, “He's a deer. You know, like Cold Hoof on the boat. They’re the primary species that live in this part of the world.”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew that!” I'd honestly forgotten about Cold Hoof entirely.

Focusing back onto the presumed bartender deer before us, I trotted forward. He pressed a button on the terminal and a big green volume bar grew smaller by the second as he turned to us, now that the western show had stopped interrupting.

Sadly, I was somewhat interested in it by now. Evidently, the main character had the sheriff and the government after him, specifically some bounty hunter they'd hired named “The Dragon,” a tough son-of-a-bitch with a draw so fast, it made lightning strike and thunder boom with his bullets.

“Hey!”

He didn't respond, just looking at us.

Aurora awkwardly shifted and the deer grabbed himself a cigarette from under the bar, lighting it with a blow torch that was inexplicably sitting at the bar. I opted to look at the drink menu displayed behind the buck.

He finally spoke up, a rasp of damn near ghoulish quality in how much it sounded like a cheese grater. “You gals are an awful long way from home, ain't ya?”

It took me a moment to respond, as I was transfixed on some of his menu. There were fairly normal drinks, and then there was stuff like whatever a Balefire Shot was. Its name made it sound a bit less-than-appealing; that's all I knew.

Aurora cleared her throat, standing up straight and dignified. It was kinda like how the more up-their-own-ass unicorns I’d known stood and walked. “Yes that's right, we were hoping to perhaps procure a place to stay for the night as well as information about the area; directions and things of that nature.”

Why had her voice become softer? Aurora, from my limited exposure to the unicorn, wasn't a loud creature or quite as bombastic as me, but she'd taken clear care to shift her voice's pitch and tone. In a way, it was just more noble, I guess was the best way to put it.

The buck took in a puff of smoke, blowing out a cancerous cloud. “Well, foreigners, we ain't put up any sorta inns, ‘less ya count the jail cells other side a’ town. ‘S long as ya don't end up on Joseph’s bad side, y'all’ll be fine.” He finished by taking another draw of his cigarette.

Who names their kid “Joseph,” was my main takeaway from the statement. “He’s the sheriff, I assume?” I asked.

He nodded back. “Yep. Now, I’d love to tell you about little ol’ Mud’s history, from campgrounds to little shit hole, but I don't like Mud the town, nor the shit you’re covered in, lasses, so ‘less you lookin for a drink or a fuck, the big wigs in charge are in the next building over.”

Looking to Aurora, she nodded at the bar keep. “Well then, that sounds like our cue to be heading off then, right, Jet?”

I continued to try and figure her out. She was probably a unicorn from a more well-put-together town, maybe even a stable-dweller.

Coming back out to the street, we headed due north along the street as directed, coming to where the mud path turned and opened up to the rest of the town. Beside the mayoral building on the bend were two other buildings; a church and a whore house, with a hoofball court sandwiched between the two. Directly across from them in the bend sat a landowner’s office and a little zebra filly kicking her hooves as she sat on the bar of the tollbooth-like structure.

Focusing back on the municipal building, Aurora was already knocking on the door. I quickly trotted after her. “Come on in, door’s unlocked!” called a female voice out from inside.

I promptly pulled the door open wide, letting Aurora and then myself enter the well-maintained and decorated main floor. A secretary desk sat not too far in, with a cute little doe sitting behind it.

She opened her mouth to speak as a little red light on her desk blinked repeatedly. The next thing I knew, there was a shotgun braced against the desk. Her cheek rested firmly against the stock, not in a very sustainable or comfortable position, but all the same she was aiming a shotgun at us.

My reflexive reaction was to flick my wings up, back, and just a few hair degrees out of proper flight position in order to activate my battle saddle and disable the safeties of my dual laser rifles; at this point, it was muscle memory.

Aurora froze up, not even moving. She’d become as rigid as an ice sculpture, sweating enough to make up for the fact she wasn't actually made of ice.

As much as I’d love to admire her body and list all the adorable things about it, my focus was keenly fixated on the doe pointing a shotgun at me. She was scared, but she didn't have the look of a soldier in her eyes. She was a civilian, and one that really didn't want to pull that trigger.

“D-don't make a move, you two! Which of you is it?! Show yourself! O-or yourselves…''

Aurora pulled herself together faster than I did. “Jet, put down your guns. Ma’am, we don't mean you any harm. Trust us, we have nothing to hide. We’re not malicious.”

Not quite an accurate statement, but the fact I drugged my superior’s coffee with laxatives before I bounced wasn't something I figured anypony cared about this far out.

I slowly began to lower my wings. The mode-shifting rods that connected between them and the harness of the battle saddle bent back down and clicked the safety on, rising off the triggers of the two weapons. Still, my wings stayed at the ready. I didn't dare let myself relax and risk being shot in the chest.

There was hesitation in the doe’s actions. The gun shook, slowly lowering before a quick snap back up. As she put the mouth-gripped trigger closer to her lips, it was, by my best estimation, too big for her to use in any proper sense. Even an experienced marksman would have their shot thrown off, having to use more energy to bite the trigger and taking away from the balancing of the gun.

“I-I said stop moving! I know you’re lying!”

Aurora tensed up. Her eyes said enough for me to know she was not ready for a fire fight. There was a sense of doubt, if not surprise as she moved her mouth and scrunched her muzzle, lost for a reply to give.

So I did it, instead. “Look, lady, if you bite that trigger, like it or not, neither of us are going to drop before your fur’s seared and skin charred black by laser fire. But go ahead and bite that oversized trigger; hurt your jaw and hope that your gun fires well enough that at least some pellets hit us.”

Now, saying that, if she did have some luck to spare and bit hard enough, I was fairly certain that either of us would become swiss cheese from buckshot. It was still survivable, but that’d suck ass on a good day.

Aurora glanced back at me, clearly unsure about what I’d said, but it was effective. The gun shook in the doe’s hooves and she started to cry. Slowly, she lowered the gun as she shook before finally dropping it and letting me ease up.

Aurora looked like she was about to have a whole-ass heart attack by this point. This was only amplified as a slam reverberated through the room. My feathers rose in flustered shock as the doe dropped behind the desk.

I turned with Aurora to the source of the sound, the front door, just in time for a hard kick to meet the door as it came open, letting the light and the dark silhouette in. Over twice as tall as any pony, his body was muscular. The shine of chrome covered all but his head; the head of a buck, antlers tall and wide as they scratched the top of the doorframe. It was some hellish amalgamation of robotics, minotaur physiology and a deer’s head on top of his shoulders.

There was silence following that, only broken as this mechanical beast walked in on his two legs; a weird enough sight on its own, with steam rising from his nostrils as he entered. Exposed mechanisms ran along the majority of his form, his chest and joints, specifically. The entity appeared genderless, but was very clearly masculine in his presence, as his eyes glowed with an icy cold blue color.

My wings flared back up in preemptive caution, activating my guns. I was hanging but a hair’s breadth from letting off the charge in each clip of ammo I had into the hide of this thing as he came into the light.

Aurora took a cautious step back from the imposing entity as my eyes narrowed. I analysed the logistics of grabbing said unicorn and diving out the door, but then would come the matter of finding the others in time.

My planning was suddenly cut short when, faster than I really processed, he turned sharply. The next thing I knew, Aurora was on the floor, clutching her gut, curled up in a ball from being kicked in the chest.

Thankfully my reaction time kicked up into high gear. That, or he was slower to the punch, but his fist barely missed my head.

I pulled sharply to the side, my wings kicking dust and debris up behind me as I leapt from the ground, kicking off his arm and hovering close to the ceiling, a good few feet away from and higher than him.

Glancing back to the corner where Aurora crawled off to, beside the door, a black and sleek form sat, its legs full of holes; a changeling. The revelation didn't have much chance to process as a flail swung for my legs and pulled me back into the beast’s reach.

“Surrender, or be at risk of damage to life and limb.” The mouth of its deer head did not even move as the metallic voice simply escaped from it. It was unnerving to say the least, and certainly something I didn't feel too good about complying with.

“You'd have to catch me for that first, tin man!” In an instant, I glanced around, and “bingo”. Kicking my legs in the air, my wings caught the wind and I sharply swung around the entire room, building speed and crashing out a window, nearly crashing into the church next door, but managing to just stop myself.

Looking left, to the front of the building and the expanse out of town, I saw that deer had begun to congregate, with Enjin and Cross namely being amongst the small crowd. The deer monstrosity rounded the corner, pivoting in the mud and sprinting my way.

I went to fly higher, but a sudden hard hit against my wing made me falter. I looked to where he’d hit me. Apparently, he decided that the flail wasn't working, and ripped the ball from it and shot-put it into my side.

I winced and worked the appendage, feeling several tinges of pain and concluding that I had a cracked rib. My delicate wing bones likely weren't in any better state.

He came up to me, and with far more grace than any god should allow this beast, he kicked off the walls, leaping for me. Unfortunately for all parties involved, he grabbed my leg and nearly pulled us both down to the ground. I wasn't about to accept that, hurt wing be damned.

My engines kicked on, hard, the glowing orange flame kicking out from them as I torpedoed vaguely eastwards out of town, slamming my tagalong against a hill of dirt. And yet, that wasn't enough to shake him from my leg as he clung on like a vise.

Distractedly, I looked back down to him, confirming his position instead of paying attention to the oncoming treeline full of that red mist. Dead tree branches, unsurprisingly, aren't pleasant to collide with several times in rapid succession.

Obviously, we crashed into the forest, and sure, it hurt. I had sticks in my mane following the experience, but kicking free of my limp tagalong’s hand and shaking off made me realize the flipside to my predicament.

The initial thing that tipped me off to something being very wrong was breathing. I took a breath in and it felt like I’d swallowed a burning lump of coal.

My eyes began to water and redden as my vision grew unfocused. It was quickly becoming hard to see and my eyes were burning worse than any pink eye ever.

I used a hoof to cover my muzzle, but it wasn't helping much as my nose began to run, expunging all of my sinuses’ contents, and that’s when I felt the effects over my skin. My fur was standing on end as the tips became dry and the effect began heading down. Debilitating was the right word for it.

I grit my teeth, unable to properly make sounds to articulate the pain as I felt my throat grow sore and my nose burn. I fell hard into the dirt, feeling every tiny cut and bruise I’d taken in my landing grow more agitated, like screws were being twisted into the fibers of my muscles.

Celestia, it fucking sucks to be alive sometimes. I couldn't decide what sucked more; this, or the fact that I felt myself being picked up by trembling and stiff hands, thrown over the shoulder of my metal sasquatch tagalong as he took to sprinting on rusting and rigid legs.

He brought us pretty far, but given the fact that I’d taken us out a good mile or more, there wasn't any real chance for him to pull us all the way back to town. Thankfully, it seemed he knew that as well, as he crawled us atop a hill and locked me in a headlock.

Kicking on my engines, I noted that they had begun to rust. They weren't the only thing degrading, either, as my fur just rubbed off at his touch. I had been molting for the last eighth of a mile.

It took a whole four attempts kicking up and sputtering my engine, equally so burning the guy. The same guy I had been trying to run from, funnily enough. But when they finally kicked on, we soared like corpses being flung in the wind, giving the mayoral building two big dents as we tumbled into it and off the edge. My head cracked hard into the dirt as a big minotaur-deer-robot-cosplay mother fucker crushed me for what seemed to be a full seat audience of the entire town and my companions.