Cyberpony: 1077

Chapters

Chapter 2: The Job
Chapter 3: Flying High
Chapter 4: The Fall
Chapter 5: Inside Mare
Chapter 7: Elysium
Chapter 8: Upsy-Daisy
Chapter 9: Rebound
Chapter 10: Extraction
Chapter 11: Pirate Radio
Chapter 12: Silverhoof
Chapter 13: Valkyrie
Chapter 14: Relics
Chapter 15: Legendary
Epilogue: Chippin' In
Chapter 1: Light City
Chapter 6: Rockerfilly

Chapter 2: The Job

Eating the breakfast that Hash had left for me was much more easily accomplished when I realized that I’d be able to pay her back for it after she paid me for the job tonight. In fact, I ended up spending a good portion of the day doing rough estimates to figure out what I owed her and Gary for all of the little favors they’d been doing for me off and on this month as things had gotten progressively more financially dire for me. I’d have the better part of five thousand gibbies left over after giving Grinder what I owed him, and I’d be able to square my accounts with the others and still have plenty to survive for a good while.

It was almost overwhelming to think about having thousands of gryphusbits sitting in my account that were mine to spend as I pleased. For a while anyway. Next month’s ‘protection dues’ would need to be addressed sooner rather than later, I knew. I didn’t have a plan for that yet. Honestly, I was still trying to fully wrap my head around catching such a lucky break like this. It hardly seemed real.

I’d smacked myself across the face again after Hash left the apartment. Then I’d messaged the pegasus at around noon after waking up just to make absolutely certain that the whole exchange hadn’t just been some ridiculously lucid dream. Yet, even after plenty of reassurances from my roommate, I was still finding this all so surreal.

It all just seemed too…contrived.

The work was too easy. It paid out too much. The timing was too convenient…

If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought that Hash Stack was setting me up for something. In fact, had it been any other pony making me an offer like this, I’d have turned them down flat out. Even knowing what Grinder had in store for me if I didn’t turn up with his gibbies, a job with pay like this wasn’t something that got offered to ponies like me out of the blue. The only rational explanation would have been that it was a bait job designed to lure me into some sort of trap. Likely a scav den so I could be offed and stripped down for talismans.

My roommate wouldn’t do that to me though. At least, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t.

…

So much for feeling good about this job.

A sudden clamoring of hooves and a scattering of indignant curses startled me into a small jump, my eyes darting immediately towards its source. I identified a green pegasus stallion stumbling their way out of a harder-than-intended landing a short ways down the sidewalk. More than a few creatures who’d been forced to dart out of his way in order to avoid being involved in a collision made annoyed sounds and gestures to the oblivious flier, but did little else to try and escalate the situation. Everycreature had places to be and none of them was feeling particularly inclined to get into a fight at the moment.

The pegasus shook his head and mumbled something under his breath about the ground jumping suddenly upward to meet him, but no apologies seemed to be forthcoming. Indeed, it looked like he wasn’t even aware that he’d nearly trampled any of the nearby pedestrians funneling around him. The slight stumble of his step and slurred words suggested that the ground had probably not moved at all, contrary to his claims.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to slow my suddenly spiked heart rate. I peered around at the parade of other creatures meandering down the sidewalk in opposing directions and made an effort to push myself further up against the wall of the building I was sitting against so I’d be more out of the way.

Trotson was a very different kind of neighborhood from Haywood. While not ‘affluent’, by any stretch of the definition of the word, there were a lot more genuine apartment complexes here that ponies with decent jobs could afford to live in. There were still a couple of megasilos like the one Hash and I lived in here too. Indeed, one of those very megasilos was sitting right across the street from me. However, they were the exception in this ward and not the rule. This neighborhood was actually pretty lively, economically speaking.

Why, I bet the LCPD would even respond to an emergency call in less than a whole hour! Assuming it wasn’t placed during their lunch break, of course.

All that being the case, I did find myself wondering what this job could be about. Trotson would have a larger pool of decent-paying clients than Haywood, sure, but the compensation that was being implied by my roommate was still a little on the absurd side. Not all of this was entirely outside of the realm of possibility, I convinced myself. As a nettrotter, Hash’s skills were highly sought after. High demand translated into preem pay. It was entirely plausible the right client would be willing to pay the pegasus an amount in the high five figure range for a particularly sensitive job. Even if this was one of those jobs though, the twenty thousand cut I was getting sounded a little excessive for what I was doing. My part in this wasn’t much different from being a look-out.

Actually, no; I was exactly a look-out!

Which wasn’t to say that this was just make-work that Hash was throwing my way. While Hash was trotting through the net, her situational awareness of her immediate physical surroundings here in the material world was going to be the next best thing to nil. She would be extremely vulnerable if anypony happened to come along while she was connected to the terminal she was accessing. Having somepony watching over you while in that kind of state was just good sense. So I understood that my task did have value.

I just wasn’t convinced that it had twenty thousand gibbies worth of value…

It was also odd that she’d chosen me. I mean, kinda. She said that she’d needed a pony she could trust. While it was flattering that she thought of me that way, it was also something that I found a little surprising. She’d never asked me to work with her on one of her jobs before. Which wasn’t something that I held against her. I knew that I lacked a lot of the skills that a mare like her might find useful for whatever contract work she usually got. Besides, I was under the impression that she had a regular crew of other creatures that she normally worked with. I’d never met any of them, but I’d overheard her more than a few times clairaudiently conversing with other creatures and using the same names before heading off on another job. I found myself wondering why she wasn’t relying on one of them to watch over her this time like she must normally do?

My mind entertained a few possibilities off and on for the next hour as I watched life in the city carry on around me. Nopony paid much attention to the young unicorn mare sitting on the street corner minding her own business, and so the crowds trotted past me without a second thought. Nothing much new there. It’s not like I was anypony worth noticing.

Inevitably, my gaze would occasionally wander towards downtown and its shimmering towers of lights and glass. The running lights of a few air carts were visible as they transported their passengers among and between the various landing pads scattered around Light City. It was a given that anycreature riding along in one of those carts had the wealth and means to―perhaps quite literally―buy and sell mares like me with less thought than I put into weighing whether or not I could afford to eat more than bargain bin instant noodles that month.

The amount of money it cost to reserve a ten minute air cart trip would have paid all of my living expenses for a month. And I’d heard that there were high-up corpo execs who’d use them to go back to their condos on their coffee breaks so that they could enjoy their favorite imported bean blends in the comfort of their own living rooms. Meanwhile, I hadn’t learned until just a few months ago that coffee actually came from a bean; because I’d only ever experienced it in its powdered form and had assumed that coffee was mined somewhere just like salt and sugar were.

Hash showed me some of the prices for tiny pouches of ‘artisan blend’ whole coffee beans and I just about spit my bit. It was then that I concluded that rich creatures didn’t get rich because they were smarter than everycreature else. Spending that kind of money on beans was stupid, and anycreature who did was clearly an idiot.

I’d caught part of a broadcast a few years back which featured Light City’s mayor talking about how ‘wonderful’ this city was. The smartly-dressed griffon hen had extolled the city’s ‘egalitarian virtues’―whatever that meant―and how lucky we all were to live in a place where there wasn’t a ruling class of nobility that created a system of oppression, the way there was back in Equestria or Gryphus. “Classism doesn’t exist in Light City,” she’d explained. “This is a place where anycreature can accomplish anything, as long as they’re willing to put in the work. The only thing keeping you from achieving your dreams is yourself!”

The sentiment had sounded logical enough on the surface. For a long while, I’d even believed her. Then I’d taken some time to look back over my own life, and my mother’s life. I knew that my mother had worked hard. Most nights she didn’t make it home until close to ten o’clock, and she was gone off to work again before five the next morning. She almost never had fewer than two jobs. Yet, despite that, she’d died young and arguably with more debt than she’d started with. I was well on track to meet the same fate.

What were ponies like us doing ‘wrong’ that we couldn’t do more than barely hold our heads above water? It’s not like I even had unreasonable dreams! At least, I didn’t think they were unreasonable. I just wanted to be able to eat a real meal and sleep on a soft mattress for a few nights at this point. That was it. That represented the height of my aspirations in life.

How much harder exactly were the creatures flying around in those air carts working than I was that they got to spend more on brown bean water in a month than I did on rent? How much harder was I supposed to work to afford regular meals that weren’t just flavored soybeans?

“Pel!” My attention was dragged back to the present by the sound of a familiar mare calling my name. I turned to see a smiling Hash Stack gliding in to land next to me. She did so with far more grace than the drunk stallion from earlier. “Glad you could make it, bloom! Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?”

I forced a smile onto my own face even as I felt the embarrassment and shame welling up inside of me at the knowledge that my life was so empty, that I’d had nothing better to do with my day than stand here waiting for her for over an hour. I didn’t want her to know that though. She pitied me enough as it was. “Nah, I just got here, like, seconds ago,” I lied, “you timed it perfectly.”

“Preem!” Hash beamed at me. Then her demeanor became more serious as she shifted into ‘work mode’. “So, like I said before: you’re mostly just here to foalsit my body while I’m trotting around the net,” she reminded me. “I’m going to be using one of the rooms in that building there,” she pointed one of her wingtips at the megasilo across the street. “Just park your flank at the door and make sure nopony comes in. There shouldn’t be anypony coming by to bother us, but, you know: better safe than sorry, right?”

“Right,” I agreed, nodding my head even as I looked in the direction that the smaller mare had pointed. The building didn’t look like anything special. It was just another towering megasilo apartment complex targeted at creatures who were just scraping by. Exactly like the one Hash and I lived in. I’ll admit, I was more than a little curious as to what kind of job the pegasus could have gotten taking place somewhere like that that paid out what I was guessing it did. Surely anypony hiring Hash for a high-paying gig would have her working somewhere more…substantial, right?

Whatever. It wasn’t any of my business what she’d been hired to do, or where she was supposed to do it at. Like Hash had said: I was just here to keep an eye out. I didn’t need to know any of the intricate details on the op to do that. “How long is this going to take?” I asked.

“Less than an hour, I’d think,” Hash assured me. “It’ll take longer to run the ice bath than it will for me to actually crack the system.” She let out a confident snort. “Come on; follow me!” She headed off across the street, and I followed in her wake.

It was a little surreal wandering around inside the apartment complex; because, while this wasn’t the one that I lived in, the layout was a perfect match for it. However, despite the similarities, there were enough subtle differences that my brain kept hanging up on the ‘wrongness’ of this place. Vending machines were the ‘wrong’ brand. Trash piles were in the ‘wrong’ place. The smell was ‘off’. Things like that. It was surprisingly disorienting, honestly. Like I was misremembering a dream about being in my apartment building or something.

We stopped by an ice machine in one of the hallways. Hash slipped it a few bills for a couple of large bags of ice. “Do you mind?” She gestured to the bags. I nodded and reached out for them with my magic, levitating the ice out of the machine. The gem mounted in the pegasus’ forehead started to glow as well as she floated out another two bags for herself to carry. She then motioned with her wingtip once more for me to follow her.

Eventually, Hash brought us to what I presumed was the room that we would be using for the operation. The little pegasus stared at the digital panel on the wall for a couple of seconds, her head canted slightly to the side. The gemstone bonded to her forehead flickered. A moment later, there was a pleasant little chime and the door issued a soft ‘click’ as the lock disengaged and it opened. Hash glanced over at me and nodded her head in the direction of the apartment’s interior, indicating for me to follow her in.

As I stepped inside, I felt myself becoming slightly more uneasy. It was immediately obvious that this apartment was actively being lived in by somecreature. Judging by the amenities―and the absurdly large number of posters of tack-clad mares in provocative positions on the walls―I suspected that a stallion lived here. One who did a lot of drinking, if the pervasive stench of alcohol in the air was any indication. My eyes fell to a nearby coffee table, and the pistol that was laying on it. Being armed in Light City―especially in the ‘not great’ parts of town―wasn’t unusual. However, it was unusual for a resident to own something that boasted all of the modifications that I was seeing integrated into that weapon. That thing wasn’t simply for ‘personal defense’.

The door closed behind us. A glance from Hash and flash of the gem on her head was all it took for the lock to re-engage with another audible ‘click’. “Come on. Bathroom’s right through here,” the pegasus informed me. Somewhat redundant, I noted. While the furnishings were different, the apartment’s layout was identical to our own, after all. I kept any comment on the matter to myself and followed her to the washroom, toting the bags of ice along beside me in my telekinetic grasp.

Here were even more indications that this was an actively utilized apartment by somepony. A slew of medications crowded the edge of the sink. I recognized quite a few of them. They were the same cocktail of arcana-accelerants and neurotransmitter supplements that I was on. Me, Hash Stack, and every other creature who had more arcanetic implants than the standard arcanal interface which was a ubiquitous addition to everycreature in Light City. It was all but mandatory to have one of those, in the sense that it was impossible to perform a lot of basic interactions without those enchanted gemstones implanted into your head. After all, without the basic array of spell matrices that they granted their host access to, there’d be no way to perform clairaudient calls, scry a map of your immediate surroundings for navigation around the bustling metropolis, use telekinesis, or even access most terminals. They were genuinely essential to live here.

Fortunately, those implants were also free to have installed.

It did end up costing users a few hundred gibbies every year to cover the spell matrix updates that F.F.Inc periodically pushed out…

The standard cranial-mounted arcanetic interface and the other few small implants that allowed for net access and the ability to telekinetically manipulate small items didn’t tend to wear on a creature’s body too much. Not any more than mundane decorative piercings did. However, the moment you got around to replacing entire limbs with artificial facsimiles, that was when you started running into problems. A creature’s typically mundane nature tended to not play too well when magical auras were grafted into them. Some of the higher-end augmentations used more delicate and subtle matrices which weren’t as taxing, but implants of that caliber were significantly more expensive than ones made using basic runes and talismans. Anypony sporting the latter required a regular intake of alchemical supplements to offset the body’s more negative reactions to being infused with magic. Fortunately, as long as a creature had access to the right pills and potions, they wouldn’t suffer any serious ill effects.

…Well, provided they didn’t go too overboard with the extent of the implants. Replacing a few limbs, even an organ or two, was one thing. However, alchemy had its limits. Potions needed to be metabolized by the body’s cells. If a creature replaced so much of their original body that there was barely anything organic left, then there basically wasn’t anything biological remaining for the potions and pills to be absorbed with. Which meant those medications designed to keep a creature’s body in balance with magic would stop working altogether.

That was when things started to go…badly.

I wasn’t in any danger of something like that though. Aside from the typical implants that everypony in Light City had, the only other body modifications that I was sporting were artificial forelimbs and a reinforced shoulder girdle to support them. While it meant that I’d be on a moderate drug regimen for the rest of my life, it wasn’t anything super detrimental to my long-term health. So long as I could afford the potions, at least. Up to this point, the cost of those drugs was being covered by the herd. I wasn’t any use to Grinder if I was going through arcanetic rejection after all. Not that I was proving myself to be of much use to him even with the drugs…

Hash started running the bath. I emptied the contents of the bags of ice into the tub while the smaller pegasus set about stripping off her clothing. It was hard for me to not keep casting glances at the sink and the bottles there. While the pony who lived here was taking many of the same potions that I was, they were clearly being prescribed a significantly higher dosage. This suggested that they were more heavily augmented than I was. At least a third of their body was cybernetically altered. Maybe even half. I tried envisioning the stallion who lived here that apparently would give Grinder a run for his money when it came to augs. Were we ripping them off? Or was this simply a convenient place for Hash to jack into?

“Do you know the pony who lives here?” I asked the pegasus.

“Yeah,” she replied, almost too quickly. Seeming to realize that the simple response wasn’t going to do much to alleviate any concerns that I was having about being here, Hash elaborated. “I know him. He should be out all day. We’ll be gone long before he gets back.”

“Good.” I nodded. I took a deep breath to try and help further settle my nerves. Hash had assured me that this would be a cake-walk. We’d be here less than an hour, and no disturbances were anticipated. I tried to hammer home those points in my head, but I found that I was still feeling pretty anxious nonetheless.

I heard Hash rummaging around in one of her saddlebags and turned in time to see her withdrawing a small black case. She popped the lid open, revealing a collection of crystal shards nestled into a felt lining. She began to carefully scrutinize several of them.

“What are those for?” I asked, having never really gotten a chance to see the pegasus while she was “on the job” before. I only had a vague understanding about how nettrotters did their thing; which mostly consisted of: trotting around the net. The specifics weren’t a thing I’d ever thought to dig too much into.

“Icebreakers,” the alabaster flier replied without looking up. She lifted one of the conical shards into the air with her telekinesis talisman and carefully floated it into a receiving slot on her neck. She likely noticed that the expression I was wearing suggested I didn’t understand what her answer had meant and was gracious enough to go into a little more detail for my benefit.

“They’re cantrips which help me get around system defenses. They make hacking a lot easier.”

“Why are they called ‘icebreakers’?” They certainly didn’t look like they’d be any use physically breaking apart ice from what I could see of them.

Hash made a second selection and slotted that shard as well. “Just about every computer system is protected by something called: ‘Intrusion Countermeasure Enchantments’; I.C.E. or ‘ice’ for short,” she explained. “They’re a class of enchantments designed to keep creatures from getting into parts of a system that they aren’t supposed to. These enchantments are usually enough to keep out casual rune-kitties without much trouble.

“However…” A third and fourth shard were slotted before Hash closed the lid on the box once more and returned it to her saddlebag. “If you have the spells at hoof, you can ‘break through’ those protective enchantments. We call those spells: ‘icebreakers’.” She flashed a quick grin in my direction. “Every decent nettrotter has a collection on hoof.” Her wing patted the saddlebag she’d just closed off. “This is part of mine.”

“Part?” I raised a curious eyebrow.

Her grin briefly widened, her eyes sparkling with a good deal of mischief. “I’m a lot better than ‘decent’,” she quipped.

The pegasus then opened up the other bag on her opposite side and drew out a length of cabling. I recognized it as being similar to, if significantly more robust than, the smaller network access cable that I and nearly every other Light City resident had embedded in their fetlock or arm, depending on species. Hash Stack would have had a standard interface cable in her forelimb as well. However, I knew enough about netrotting to know that a ‘standard’ cable wouldn’t be up to the task at hoof.

The main difference between the standard cabling and what the pegasus was bringing out right now was the amount of bandwidth that was supported. For myself―and just about any other creature in Light City―the thin gigabit-rated cables that we had as part of our basic implants were more than sufficient to do conventional tasks, like accessing computer terminals to perform basic functions.

This bigger cable was petabit-rated. She could put her whole consciousness through that thing, allowing her to not merely ‘use’ computers, but to effectively merge with them. At least, that was how the mare had once described it to me. The machines that she interacted with through that cable essentially became extensions of herself, feeling little different than her physical body. Suffice it to say that this meant she was able to do a lot more with computers through that cable than most others could manage through more mundane interfaces.

However, the high data-transfer rates that were on the order of a million times greater than what most creatures had to deal with also meant that nettrotters like Hash couldn’t just be standing around in the open while they were plugged in. Not only did they have to be laying down somewhere because their brain was too preoccupied floating around in the net to even keep its host body standing properly, the hyper-accelerated neural activity also meant that their bodies were prone to overheating if it was sustained for prolonged periods of time. Consequently, it was considered a ‘best practice’ to only be doing so while outfitted with a specialized thermo-regulating bodysuit. Or, if lacking one of those extremely expensive pieces of equipment: submerged in a tub of ice water.

The flier stepped over to a nearby access port that was built into the wall by the vanity. She pried off the cover and spent a few seconds evaluating the available connections before selecting one that she was comfortable with. One end of the cable grasped in her pinions was plugged into the access port. What came next, I had to look away for.

The mare reached for her muzzle with her other wing…and removed it entirely. It was a modification that I’d known she possessed for as long as I’d known her―and one that I knew wasn’t exceedingly rare, all things considered. However, this particular variety of facial implant was still one that made me uneasy whenever I saw it in action. The act was made all the more surreal by Hash’s apparent apathy for the fact that she’d just taken half of her face off with no more thought given to it than most gave to removing a pair of sunglasses.

Beneath what was effectively little more than an aesthetic covering lay the mare’s real ‘face’: a concave facade of titanium, gems, wires, and ports. Hash Stack set aside her disembodied mouth and connected the other end of the cabling to the inset receptacle just below her ‘hard palate’ which permitted access to the cybernetic implants that were wired directly into her brain. A slight twist locked the connection into place. Hash slipped into the tub of ice water and made herself comfortable, laying on her back in the chilled liquid.

“I’m going in.” I heard her transmit through a telepathic link which she’d created between us now that she didn’t have a functional mouth any longer. “Go ahead and keep watch by the door.”

I nodded and stepped out of the room.

My nerves once more started to get the best of me, now that I found myself effectively ‘alone’ in the strange apartment. As instructed, I posted myself next to the front door, taking in and letting out several deep breaths in an effort to settle myself. I continually mentally assured myself that nothing was going to happen, and that I just needed to basically ‘hang out’ for an hour until Hash was done and we could leave. This was going to be the easiest money that I’d ever made. Also the most.

Those thoughts invariably brought me back to musing over exactly what sort of work Hash could have gotten in a place like this that paid out that kind of scratch? We certainly weren’t raiding the owner’s personal accounts. Anypony with those kinds of gibbies laying around didn’t live in government-subsidized housing like this. No, the stallion who lived here wasn’t that much better off than anypony else living in my own building. Though they did clearly have considerably more funds to blow on beer and cigarettes than most ponies I knew, I thought to myself as I scanned the floor around me that was littered with crushed cans.

The sight of the brand that was easily identifiable despite the crumpled state of the aluminum cylinders made me wince. Buckweisser, while a popular brew in Light City that could be found available anywhere that offered alcohol, was also Grinder’s own beer of choice; so I had a certain pavlovian aversion to it as a result. I tried to focus on something else, but whoever lived here appeared to either have something of a drinking problem or a hoarding problem, because it was the next best thing to impossible to find a part of the apartment that wasn’t covered in crumpled empty beer cans. Any place that wasn’t piled high with them was instead occupied by discarded mostly-eaten kirean take-out. Another thing that I wasn’t a huge fan of as a result of bitter associations.

Frankly, from what I could tell, the stallion that lived here would have gotten along great with―

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoofsteps on the other side of the door. I felt my breath catch in my throat as all of my attention focused immediately on the closed portal. A―nearly drowned out―rational voice in my head struggled to remind me that a lot of other ponies lived in this building and I was bound to hear a few of them walking down the hall past this apartment. That was just a thing that happened, and it didn’t mean that they were specifically coming here. Besides, Hash had assured me the tenant wasn’t going to be back any time soon.

That reminder fully in place, I was well on my way to settling back down again and returning to focusing on something that wasn’t beer cans and take-out.

Then the interface outside beeped and the door unlocked.

“Hash, somepony’s coming!” I frantically screamed in my head over our telepathy spell. I didn’t get a response though. Likely because the pegasus was still deep-diving into the net. The whole reason I was even here was because the nettrotting mare was effectively dead to the world in this state, after all.

Which left me on my own. Fuck!

My eyes locked onto the pistol on the coffee table that I’d noticed when I first entered the apartment. I didn’t own a weapon of my own―Grinder had determined that I didn’t need one to rough up poor unarmed ponies while shaking them down for cash. I reached out with my telekinesis talisman and drew the weapon towards me, holding it close.

Thoughts of how to handle the situation raced through my mind. The pony at the door was almost certainly the owner. While shooting them would certainly prove to be the most expedient means of solving the ‘problem’ of their return, that didn’t necessarily mean that it was the best. The gunshot would draw attention from the neighbors. Enough that somepony would almost certainly call the cops. Given the sort of place we were in, Hash and I would likely be long gone before any members of the LCPD actually bothered to respond to an ‘emergency’ as low priority as a shooting at one of the city’s many subsidized-housing blocks. I was well aware that calls for help in places like this only got a response if there was literally nothing else going on in the city…and any nearby officers weren’t currently enjoying a donut and a cup of coffee.

Even then, they’d stop off for a shit first on their way to respond.

That being said, while the proper authorities might not care about another dead pony in Haywood, I had no idea how Hash Stack’s employer might feel about attaching a body count to this job. It might get her in hot water, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her future employment prospects. That would have been a fine way to show my appreciation for everything that she was doing for me, wouldn't it?

No, keeping them hostage was my best option for now. Use the gun to coerce them into keeping quiet until the pegasus had emerged from her dive. Then she could determine whether leaving a witness was worth the risk. As little effort as the LCPD would have put into solving an outright murder in Haywood, they’d be even less motivated to investigate a simple breaking-end-entering call. They’d come down, take a statement, and then promptly ‘file’ the report in the nearest garbage bin. Especially when they found out that nothing had actually been stolen, and that somepony had just hacked their network. At that point, it became a matter of whether or not the cops remembered to pass a message on to NetWatch at the end of their shifts or not; with the likelihood leaning heavily towards ‘not’, given that it wasn’t one of the megacorps that was being hacked into.

…At least, I assumed that Hash wasn’t going after a megacorp’s network right now.

I hastily checked to ensure the pistol was loaded and took up a position against the wall by the door. There were scant few places to hide within the apartment, so I wasn’t even going to bother. As ‘exposed’ as I was going to be by the door, my hope was that whoever was coming in wouldn’t be keen to check to either side of the door just as they were coming in. Hopefully I’d be able to get the drop on them from behind before they knew I was there.

I was about to find out how clever I was or wasn’t in another few seconds.

The door slid open and a pony casually walked in. It wasn’t a gruff, beer-guzzling, stallion that I had imagined the owner of this apartment looked like. No, this pony was a lilac unicorn mare with a styled black mane combed over the side of her face. Fortuitously, it was brushed over the side that was facing me at the moment. The new arrival passed me by, her attention focused intently on a magazine that was floating in front of her face, held in the azure magic of her telekinesis talisman. I remained frozen beside the door, not even daring to breathe.

My gaze darted to the door, which was still open as its sensors waited for the mare to advance beyond its threshold before closing. The moment it did so, that would be my signal to make my move and take her hostage. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about passersby witnessing what was going on in here.

The mare suddenly drew up short, letting out a disgusted hiss that immediately caused my eyes to snap back to her. Had she spotted me?! My chest felt like it had been physically gripped by dread as I returned my attention to the mare, only to find that she was gingerly lifting a hoof out of a cardboard carton of stale noodles that she had apparently stepped in. She poked her tongue out and let out a displeased grunt as she shook off the worst of the gunk from her hoof. Her magic extended to the offending carton and flicked it away, bouncing it off the far wall of the apartment. A moment later she all but snarled, “Hey, where are you?”

My heart stopped beating for a solid three seconds as I was overcome with the thought that she must certainly be talking to me. I’d been found out! I leveled the weapon in my telekinetic grasp at her head and was about to command her to move away from the door and keep silent. However, just before the words left my mouth, the other unicorn continued speaking. “What are you doing all the way over there?”

My lips pursed in confusion. What was she talking about? I wasn’t ‘way over’ anywhere. I was just a few feet from her. “What message? I didn’t send you shit,” she snorted in obvious irritation. It was only now that it dawned on me that the unicorn wasn’t addressing me at all. She was on a call. My anxiety only diminished ever so slightly though. While the conversation that she was engaged in would certainly keep her distracted and mean that she was less likely to notice me right off the cuff, it was also keeping her from advancing further into the interior of the apartment and allowing the door to close behind her.

With where I was currently standing, a pony strolling down the hallway from the right direction would have a clear view of myself hanging out with a pistol pointed nearly right up against the back of this other unicorn’s head. Surely that wasn’t going to look ‘alarm worthy’ to any bystanders…

“No I’m not fucking with you! Why would I―” The unicorn let out an exasperated groan, glancing up at the ceiling and shaking her head as though beseeching strength from some unseen source. It was during this shaking of her head when I caught sight of a faint glow coming from within her ear confirming that she was using her clairaudience cantrip. She let out a resigned sigh. “Look, just stay there. I’ll catch a train or something and meet you in a half hour.”

The mare’s exchange with whomever she’d been talking to apparently ended at this point as she let out a string of barely audible mutterings to the effect of ‘dumb stallions’ getting themselves all confused about their schedules as a result of trying to juggle ‘too many side-mares’. This was then followed up by a chilling vow concerning what she would do to any said side-mare she learned about who was stupid enough to try and muscle in on ‘her turf’.

Apparently not having had any actual business in the apartment other than meeting its owner, the lilac mare whirled around back towards the door to take her leave. It was fortunate for me that the apartment was maintained in such an unkept state and the unicorn hadn’t made it more than two steps over the threshold before stepping in the carton of noodles. As a result, when the mare wheeled around to leave, her head was all but out the door the moment she was turned back around. I’d again lucked out with the unicorn electing to turn away from me when she’d done so. A second later, the door closed after her and I heard the lock re-engage once more. All signs suggested that she’d never been aware that anypony else had been in the apartment with her.

A heartbeat after I heard her hoofsteps leave earshot, I collapsed to the floor in a quivering heap of mare as I began to hyperventilate. That had been too close. We’d almost been discovered. I’d very nearly been forced to possibly kill somepony! Hash had assured me that we wouldn’t have to worry about visitors. Part of me internally railed at the pegasus for having been wrong, briefly drowning out the more logical regions of my brain which struggled to point out that the whole reason for my inclusion in this job was to serve as a contingency in case someone did unexpectedly drop by anyway.

Which was apparently exactly what had happened. Whoever that mare had been, I was pretty certain that this wasn’t ‘her’ apartment. She didn’t seem the type. Her mane and coat had been styled and well-brushed respectively. The kind of pony who was that concerned with appearances wouldn’t have lived in a place as unkempt as this. I also hadn’t spied a single mare-care product in the washroom. The unicorn had obviously had an access shard or knew the unlock code, so she was certainly familiar to the owner. Marefriend, most likely. While Hash might have known the habits of the stallion who lived here, it would have been unreasonable for her to know the schedules for everypony else in his social circle. Especially if he was possibly juggling multiple mares, as the lilac unicorn seemed to suspect.

In any case, the crisis had passed and the coast was clear once more. I engaged in another series of deep, cleansing, breaths in an effort to once more center myself. About a minute later, I managed to finally reach a point where I could stand under my own power again. To say that I was terrified would have been an understatement. I’d just come way too close to being discovered, and possibly having to shoot some random mare for the ‘crime’ of coming back to her coltfriend’s apartment at an inopportune time. Assuming, of course, that I’d have actually been able to go through with pulling the trigger in the first place. I’d never killed anypony before, and I didn’t much relish the thought of doing it in the future either.

My eyes darted to the pistol still clutched in the grip of my telekinesis. Large caliber, for a weapon of its size, with an attachment that would allow it to interface with the right augmentations to help with accuracy. That was in addition to the holographic sight mounted above the slide. It was clearly a pretty expensive piece of hardware. Glancing around, almost on instinct, I pocketed the weapon, stashing it inside my vest. I could probably find a buyer for it somewhere. As good as Hash was paying me for this job, it never hurt to have extra gibbies for a rainy day.

Or, you know, next month’s dues.

The earlier crisis dealt with, I accessed the mental link between Hash and I and tried once more to get her attention even as I headed back into the washroom. While I wasn’t in need of her assistance or her advice on how to handle the other unicorn, I should still probably update her on what had happened anyway. A scant few seconds after I returned to the washroom, Hash’s body spasmed and she took in a deep breath of air through her nose. For a brief moment, I was concerned that something had gone wrong with the mare’s dive, given the suddenness of the action. However, she merely opened up her pink eyes and gave no other signs of distress as she sat up in the tub. It seemed that she had ended her dive.

Hash spent her initial moments after resuming her corporeal existence reorienting herself to her physical surroundings. Only once she’d regained her bearings did the mare seem to take notice of what was surely a very anxious look on my face. “What’s wrong; did something happen while I was out?” She projected over our link.

I recounted my earlier brush with the lilac unicorn which had very nearly resulted in our discovery. The smaller pegasus’ brows creased, the more looking more than a little annoyed. “Does that mare not check her own messages or something? I know I spoofed her a text,” she grumbled in my head. “Whatever. It all worked out. Let’s get out of here.”

Hash Stack extracted herself from the tub of ice water and started it draining. I helped her dry off with my magic, averting my gaze as the smaller mare decoupled herself from the cable and then picked up her face and clipped it back on. The network cable that she’d used was rolled up and tucked back into her saddlebag. She then extracted the ‘icebreaker’ shards and returned them to their case. In just a few minutes, there was no sign that we’d ever been in the washroom. We took our leave from the apartment, pausing in the hallway outside only briefly while Hash glared at the access panel. It issued a sour warble followed by a chime, at which point the mare smiled and nodded. “Access logs deleted. No record it’s been opened since he left.”

I nodded absently, scanning the hall for signs of any creature who might be paying enough attention to us to identify us to the apartment’s owner. A question popped into my head that, think back, I probably should have asked long before now. “Who’s place is this anyway?” I was really asking more to distract myself. Light City played host to millions of creatures, and thousands lived in buildings like this. The chances that I’d actually know the owner were slim to none.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hash said with a dismissive flick of her wing. “Just some asshole who could stand to have fewer gibbies in their account. Trust me.” Those last couple of words carried with them an edge in the pegasus mare’s tone that left no doubt as to the level of animosity she felt towards the victim of our actions here tonight. This was either a pony she knew personally or whose reputation she knew of and did not particularly care for. Either way, it struck me that this job was something personal to her.

As we headed for the lift that would take us to the ground floor of the building, I silently weighed how worthwhile it would be for me to press for additional details about the job. Not that it wouldn’t probably have been a better idea to ask for that kind of information before getting myself neck deep into all of this. However, Broke Pel hadn’t been in much of a position to turn down high-paying work. About To Be Paid Pel, on the other hoof, was feeling a little more antsy. If I was going to indeed live through my next meeting with Grinder, it would help to know if I was going to have to be worried about other ponies coming for a piece of me.

As though she’d been aware of some of my thoughts, the moment the elevator doors closed behind us, Hash Stack flashed me a broad smile. “Speaking of ‘gibbies in accounts…’” Her taliman glowed briefly as she accessed her more conventional arcanetic systems. A moment later, I noticed an update flash across my field of view from my bank, registering that a deposit of twenty thousand gryphusbits had just been made into my account.

Any lingering doubts or questions I had vanished in an instant the moment I saw those zeros. It might have been the lift descending, but I suddenly felt as light as a pegasus floating on their levitation talismans. I could afford to pay off Grinder. I could finally give Hash my full share of the rent and pay her back for all the food she kept buying me. I could afford some drinks at Gary’s bar―a real meal on my own!

I could live like a normal pony, if only for another few weeks.

My hoof reached up and wiped a tear from my eye that I hadn’t even known that I’d shed. It was just such a relief to know that I could look forward to tomorrow morning. That I didn’t have to worry about whether I’d even be able to eat that day or not―and that it could be something more substantial than a vitamin-enriched bar of sawdust. I could get a salad! With croutons!

It would probably have seemed really silly to a lot of ponies that the idea of eating a vegetable was all it took to move me to tears, but…here we were.

Hash shifted uncomfortably on her hooves, seeming a little unsure of how she was supposed to react to the mare happy-crying in front of her over getting a little bit of money. She cleared her throat. “Hey, the night’s still young. If you want to celebrate a little, I think I know a place you’d love.

“Want to check it out?”

As emotionally exhausting as the last hour had been, I’ll admit that I did feel like I wanted to revel in my good fortune. Especially now that it looked like I could afford to have a drink or two. Heck, I could even afford to get drunk! “Sounds good. Where are we going?”

Hash Stack grinned at me. “How do you feel about rock music?”

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 3: Flying High

The venue that Hash Stack took me to looked quite unassuming from the outside. I might very easily have overlooked it as just another abandoned building on the dilapidated side of town if I’d walked past it during the day. Even at night it didn’t look all that impressive from afar. Then, as we got closer, it became clear that the place was far from ‘abandoned’.

An earth pony stallion and batpony mare were sitting outside one of the only doors that wasn’t boarded up, chatting amongst themselves. It didn’t take them long to notice the pegasus and myself approaching and they turned suspicious eyes towards us, the leather-winged mare’s almost seeming to glow with an inner light. I knew that, even without arcanetic augmentations, batponies possessed impressive night vision as a result of their nocturnal nature. One of her wings rested pointedly on the grip of a pistol holstered on her leg. I felt my steps instinctively slow as I had second-thoughts about coming here. This place was giving me a very ‘members only’ vibe, and I was pretty sure that I wasn’t on whatever ‘list’ they had of creatures that were in good standing with them.

A moment later, recognition flashed across the dark gray mare’s face, her gaze locked on Hash. “Started to wonder if you were actually going to come by tonight,” she said, the corner of her lips pulling up into a wry smile, showing off far more of her pointy teeth than I was comfortable with seeing in a pony’s mouth; most of which appeared to be made out of well-polished titanium.

“Had a last minute gig pop up,” the little ivory pegasus replied with a broad grin of her own. One of her wings waved in my direction. “Bringing a ‘plus one’ tonight, if that’s okay?”

Both of the door guardians turned their gaze on me now, looking me over, if only briefly before the dark green stallion shrugged. “If you’re vouching for her then it’s all good.” He jerked his head towards the door, which the batpony was presently opening. “Enjoy your night, ladies.”

Hash flashed me a wide grin and motioned for me to follow her inside. Still feeling a little uneasy about going into a place I wasn’t familiar with, but not eager to stay outside with these two strangers who were clearly only tolerating my presence because I was with the pegasus, I trotted after my roommate. The door closed shut behind us with a suddenness that startled me, drawing my gaze briefly back over my shoulder. Sensing my nervousness, the pegasus laid a reassuring wing over my shoulder. “It’s alright. They’re just there to keep out the riff-raff. Like Grinder and other boosterherders. You’re safe here; trust me. Okay?”

I nodded, forcing myself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm myself before forcing my lips into a broad smile of my own. “What? You didn’t think I was worried back there, did you? I deal with those types all the time. They don’t frighten me.”

The pegasus let out a little laugh and nodded. “Right, yeah.”

Now that I’d taken a moment to drag my mind away from thoughts of hypothetical danger and focus on the here and now, I began to recognize the all-too familiar sights, smells, and especially sounds, of a concert in progress. The building’s exterior hadn’t hinted at the level of soundproofing that must have been present here. It seemed the place had been retrofitted since it was last abandoned in order to serve as a place to host loud performances that wouldn’t draw in crowds of undesirables―of both the boosterherd and law enforcement variety, one would presume. Not that noise complaints were typically a thing that received a police response out in Haywood.

As we walked down the hall that was visibly lined with foam dampeners―and more than a few pairs of creatures who were vigorously embraced―I began to be able to hear the music more clearly. The judicious use of drums and heavy focus on bass riffs ensured that the melody didn’t distract the audience from the singer’s words as what sounded to me like a mare who’d been smoking heavily since she was a newborn foal belted out the lyrics:

“Got gems in my bloodstream,

“Got a hoof cast out of chrome…”

Hash and I rounded a corner and suddenly found ourselves at the far edge of a crowd of creatures all facing a stage on the far end of the room. I couldn’t make out the band members from here past the throng of cheering and gyrating bodies, but the deceptively high-end sound system ensured that I didn’t have any trouble hearing what was being performed even from the very back of the crowd. Still, the venue was incredibly crowded and I wasn't sure how we were going to manage to get any closer to the stage.

“Ain’t slept in a thousand nights,

“With this phone fused to my dome!”

Another wingtap on my withers drew my attention back to my roommate as she urged me to follow her around the edge of the crowd. It was clear to me that she was a regular here and so likely knew how to get us to a better vantage point from which to enjoy the performance. I dutifully followed Hash along the wall. Even if I did have a harder time squeezing my way past the rowdy listeners than the pegasus did as she wafted along just above them on her glowing levitation talismans.

“Can’t escape this saccharin’ lie,

“Payin’ for updates ‘til I die…

“A stranger in my own skin,

“But I’m not givin’ in, no not givin’ in…”

Hash brought us all the way around to the other side of the large room, opposite the entrance way. I was finally able to catch at least a partial visual of the band that was on the small stage. It looked like it was four creatures, but I still wasn’t in a position to get a clear look at them. The sight of the looming minotaur a few paces ahead of us in the direction that Hash was leading me suggested that we probably had gotten just about as far as we were going to be allowed to. Just past the bipedal bovine’s looming visage, I spotted what was apparently a ‘VIP’ area that led backstage. The minotaur’s job was clearly to keep anypony who didn’t belong there from getting any nearer.

I was about to nudge out a little standing room for myself in this part of the crowd when I noticed that the pegasus wasn’t stopping. She was flitting right up to the minotaur. I cocked my head, raising a brow in surprise. Then I thought back over how the flier had been received at the door just a minute ago. She’d been known to the bouncers there, so I suppose that it made sense that she knew some of the other staff as well. Hash was probably just taking a moment to say ‘hi’ to a bloom of hers.

“New drivers out, an option they’re not,

“Money’s due now, that I don’t got…”

More waving caught my attention again. I looked over and my surprise returned as I noticed that Hash was gesturing for me to come with her…to the other side of what the minotaur had been blocking off. Hash had backstage access? Exactly how much of a ‘regular’ in this place was she? Finding myself again feeling a little unsure about whether I really belonged in a place like this, I tentatively made my way to her, thinking in the back of my mind that I would get blocked off the moment the minotaur saw that the pegasus was trying to get a nopony like me this close to the talent.

Imagine my surprise when the bovine bouncer not only let me pass unmolested, but even offered up a polite greeting like I was a real VIP too; and not just somepony’s charity tag-along.

“I’m a stranger in my own skin,

“But I’m not givin’ in!”

We weren’t the only two off on the side of the stage, I noticed. There were a couple dozen creatures here with us, and all of them were prancing and whooping enthusiastically in the direction of the quintet of performers. Their energy was contagious, and the beat of the music was intense. It wasn’t long before I found that my own hooves were stamping along, my body bouncing to the rhythm of the song. Hash was doing likewise beside me, though with considerably more gusto. She also had no problem singing along with the lyrics, apparently being quite familiar with them.

“Not givin’ in…Won’t play by their rules.

“Not givin’ in…No we won’t be their tools!

“Not givin’ in…Not their commodities.

“Not givin’ in…Say it with me:

“Not givin’ in!”

Even I was belting out the tag line by the end, feeling myself grinning as I did so. There was so much energy in the air, it was hard not to get caught up in it. As the song’s bridge went into full swing, I even found myself yelling out with enthusiastic ‘whoo!’s of my own.

“What do you think?” Hash was forced to all but yell into my ear in order to be heard over the blaring bass chords that were loud enough to vibrate the crowd, I was pretty sure. “Pretty preem, right?!” There was a wide grin plastered across her face as the mare took note of my obvious enjoyment of the experience.

“You mean the seats or the band?” I asked playfully in return. “It is pretty nova being up this close, yeah!” While this wasn’t the first live performance I’d ever attended in my life, this was certainly my first experience being on stage with the performers. Usually, I was just part of the mass of ponies down there on the floor, and almost always way at the back just trying my best not to get crushed by larger―and drunker―creatures enjoying themselves. This was a lot better.

“‘The band’?” Hash asked in feigned afront, offering me a look of mock indignation. At least, I think she was just playing up the indignation on her face. “Don’t you know who that is?!” She asked, gesturing wildly toward the singer on the stage. I frowned at the mare, but spared a second to take a closer look. At first, I’d assumed that this was just some local gig-group who performed around the area. After all, that was the sort that mostly performed at these sorts of out-of-the-way venues. Well known groups with genuine star power did ‘real’ concerts at the larger stages for crowds of thousands, not a hundred drunken donks in the Haywood slums.

Which wasn’t to say that this couldn’t have been a band of some real renown. I’d heard that, on occasion, a prominent group would forgo the glitz and glam of the regular concert circuit and play these sorts of back-alley dives as a way to help build up their ‘street cred’ with their target audience in the lead-up to a new album release. If this was really a well-known band, then that could be what this was, I reasoned.

It was a group comprised of five creatures. The lead singer was a donkey mare with a greasy black mane that didn’t look like it had seen a wash in at least a month and hadn’t been brushed…well, ever, honestly by how tangled her locks appeared as they whisked around her head as it thrashed along with the bass. In her defense, the aesthetic she cultivated actually paired quite well with her black tank-top and the studded leather cuffs on her cannons. What stood out most on her though was her cybernetic left forelimb. By virtue of it being blaring obvious that it was a cybernetic augmentation.

By and large, the vast majority of creatures elected to have their augs tailored to match the colors of their coats, just as mine did. This wasn’t always the case, to be sure; but that just made such rare instances of ‘obvious’ cybernetics all the more memorable. Even then, I couldn’t recall ever seeing anopony sporting a limb that was just straight up brushed metal. Anypony who wasn’t interested in having their synthetic limbs looking natural at least opted for other bright or striking colors, allowing their augs to serve as visible expressions of their personality. If that was the intent here, I had to admit that I wasn’t sure what statement the donkey was trying to make. Other than what she was screaming as part of the lyrics to her song, that is.

My gaze drifted to the guitarist standing next to the screaming jenny. He was a griffin with golden plumage on his avian half and an ivory coat on his feline half. A purple-died crest of plumage on his head added an additional splash of color to the dour-looking tiercel. His talons danced along the strings of his instrument as the song carried through the bridge leading into the second verse. He appeared completely oblivious to the donkey who was currently strutting up and down the stage in front of him, gesturing wildly at the crowd in order to fan their excitement.

Behind the pair was a diamond dog strumming along contentedly on her bass. Her gunmetal gray coat was mostly obscured by a black jacket and pair of leather pants. Spiked collars around her neck and wrists finished out her ‘punk’ motif. What stood out most about her to me though was the level of cybernetic augmentation that I was seeing grafted into the canine. Forelimbs, hindlimbs, chest―I saw signs that just about every part of her body had been modified in some way. Every part of her hide that was visible was etched with crystalline lines betraying the arcanetics lurking beneath the surface.

A lavender unicorn stallion sporting a golden mane that was heavily gelled up into a classic ‘zebra cut’ stood amidst a nest of drums. He was sporting an open denim vest that was choked with various patches depicting what looked like cutie marks. Drumsticks enveloped in his cyan magic danced around him independent of his own prancing body, clearly enjoying his band’s own music. He even spared a few moments to canter a lap around the stage―his drumsticks not missing a beat while he was away from his post. The brief excursion earned him a round of excited cheers from most of the audience’s fairer sex, which he quite obviously reveled in before returning to his station.

Lastly was a powder blue hippogriff mare standing at a keyboard near the back of the stage. Her talons danced over the keys with smooth motions even as her head bobbed along with the strumming of the band’s bassist. Next to the diamond dog, she was the next most visibly augmented member of the band―aside from the lead singer’s hoof anyway. However, I saw that most of her additions existed only in her head and neck, much the same way that Hash’s did.

I finally looked back at Hash and shrugged. “I’m not too familiar with punk bands,” I admitted to the pegasus. “I’m more of a rock fan, honestly.”

From the look on Hash’s face, you’d have thought that I’d just slapped her. Her expression was bordering on genuine incredulity as she gestured towards the band with her wing. “‘Punk’? Okay, first off: this isn’t ‘punk’. We’re west of Seaddle; this is grunge,” she corrected me pedantically, turning her snout upward in a dramatic showing of her offense at my mischaracterization of the genre of music in question, prompting an eye roll from myself. “Secondly: that’s Hussar!” She said excitedly.

The little flier paused, apparently waiting for me to demonstrate recognition now that she’d revealed their name to me. However, all I could do was stare blankly back at her. This reaction only seemed to exasperate Hash even further. “Hussar?” She said again, more emphatically; as though repeating the name of a band I’d never heard of before―except this time slower and louder―would somehow spontaneously manifest knowledge of them in my brain through osmosis. Surprisingly, it didn’t, leaving the pegasus on the verge of sputtering exasperation at my incomprehensible display of ignorance. “You know: Jenny Silverhoof? Hussar!”

All I could do was shrug and return an apologetic look to the pegasus, at which point she let out a defeated sigh and visibly deflated. “How could you possibly have lived your whole life in Haywood and never heard of Hussar? There are posters for them all over the place!”

I cocked my head to the side and thought. “...Are they the ones with the logo that’s that weird demon face?”

Another metaphysical face slap had been inflicted, it seemed, leaving the mare wincing with emotional pain. “It’s called a ‘wendigo’, and it’s a creature from ancient equestrian mythology. Hippogriff warriors, known as ‘hussars’, used to wear wendigo masks when charging into battle to intimidate their opponents in the Pre-Storm King Era. The practice fell out of use when the hippogriffs fled into the sea.”

My lips curled into a wry smile. “Thanks for the history lesson, teach. The design on the posters looks pretty sick, I do admit.”

“Catching attention is kind of the idea. It’s better if it actually attracts ponies to their music though,” the smaller pegasus added with a smirk of her own directed back at me. “You had to have heard their stuff before.” Her wing moved in the direction of the band once more as they proceeded into the second verse of their song.

“Made slaves to the ‘free market’,

“Doomed to work until we die.

“Corps tellin’ us: ‘hard work pays’,

“They ain’t sold a bigger lie!”

“I guess it sounds kind of familiar,” I acknowledged, though this didn’t exactly earn me any praise from the frowning pegasus. “It’s certainly something I like,” I assured her, hoping to soothe my roommate’s ire at having her musical tastes go unappreciated. “I’ll pick up one of their shards after the show.” Now that I had some gibbies to spend on things that weren’t absolute essentials. It was no lie that I was quickly becoming a fan of this group. Their lyrics certainly spoke to me on a personal level.

“All work, no time to play;

“Got me prayin’ for brighter days.

“Won’t see ‘em if the corpos win,

“So I’m not givin’ in, not givin’ in!”

As the song descended once more into the chorus, the audience was singing along with the jenny at the head of the band. Hash Stack and the other VIPs around me were as well. I couldn’t stop myself from adding my own voice to that of the crowd’s, feeling the collective emotions of everycreature else washing over me. As depressing a picture as the singer’s words painted for the world that we lived in, it was hard not to feel just a little hopeful that we could overcome the adversities that this city seemed determined to constantly throw at us.

It was all hyperbole though, I knew. Things weren’t nearly as bad as the mare was making them sound. Yeah, the frequent neural mesh updates could get a little annoying because they’d drop seemingly out of nowhere most of the time, but they weren’t that expensive to download. You could even fall behind by a couple before your link lost functionality, so it wasn’t like you needed the latest firmware version at all times. I certainly found them more than a little inconvenient at times, but it wasn’t so bad with Hash around to pirate-patch things for me when gibbies were tight.

Besides, the corpos weren’t the ones in control, not really. We were the consumer, so it was really we who had the power. If we didn’t like how a company was treating us, we could just take our gryphusbits elsewhere to a competitor. Well, not with the neural mesh specifically, since there was only one company that sold them. However, most businesses had competitors. So the idea that we were being ‘oppressed’ by the corpos and we needed to band together and ‘rise up’ against them was a bit of exaggeration for how Light City was. A little fantastical, I felt.

Not that there was anything wrong with enjoying a fantasy or two from time to time. However, it was in a pony’s best interest to keep themselves grounded in reality when it really mattered.

Like my reality with Grinder. That stallion was a much bigger menace in my life than some ambiguous notion of capitalist dystopias.

The mere passing thought of the crimson stallion brought my previously high spirits crashing back down in flames. While the payday from Hash’s gig would get him off my back for now…it was only a matter of weeks before the next round of protection payments were due, and he’d be expecting me to collect on them. Was I just supposed to hope that the pegasus was going to swoop in at the last moment again with another absurdly large payday and save my life? Instead of being chained to one pony―Grinder―I’d just be putting myself at the mercy of two: my roommate and the boosterherd leader. That was hardly an ‘improvement’ to my situation, was it?

The song that the band had been playing was winding down it seemed, the music petering out in favor of the growing roar of the enthusiastic crowd, as well as the hooting and hollering creatures around me. I was only half paying attention, and just absently stomping my hooves in approval of the performance along with those around me. My thoughts were now firmly entrenched in dreading what the coming weeks would bring with them. Hash hadn’t saved my life. She had only granted me a brief reprieve from what was likely to be my inevitable demise.

Unless I could find a way to do what needed to be done…and I knew that I couldn’t.

Hash must have noticed the change in my mood, because the pegasus was also ignoring the band in front of us and once more looking at me; this time with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong, bloom?”

“Sorry.” I winced, not intending to have ruined my roommate’s good time too. Damn, I really did suck. “Just thinking about Grinder. I mean, I appreciate what you did for me tonight and all, but I’m just going to be right back here again in a month anyway. I can’t ask you to save me every time.”

“Says who?” The pegasus asked nonchalantly, offering me an encouraging smile even as she draped a wing over me. “Bloomba, don’t you ever think that you can’t ask me for help, okay? For anything. I’m here for you.”

Her words were filled with such sincerity that I couldn’t help but return a thankful smile her way. At the same time, I knew I’d never take her up on the offer, even when Grinder gave me another do-or-die deadline like this one. I’d burdened enough ponies in my shit life. I wasn’t going to drag Hash down to my sorry level with the same fuck-ups that brought me here.

The pegasus bit her lip in thought for a brief moment before offering up another suggestion. “You know, you could always just…walk away. Leave Grinder. Leave Haywood. We could get a place somewhere else; someplace he wouldn’t find you?”

Another fantastic dream that would never come true; no matter how appealing such a notion might sound. I couldn’t restrain the mirthless chuckle that the suggestion evoked. “Never gonna happen. There’s nowhere I can go in this city that Grinder can’t find me.”

“He’s just some two-bit boosterherder,” Hash huffed in response, patently dismissive of the omniscience I seemed to be attributing to the stallion. “Light City’s too big for him to have connections everywhere. As long as you lay low you’ll be fine!”

I was shaking my head before the pegasus was even finished, flashing her a pitying smile. I held up one of my hooves. “You don’t understand: You see these legs? Grinder had them installed when he ‘recruited’ me. I didn’t have a say in the matter. I also didn’t have the gibbies to afford them. He paid the tab.

“And Grinder ain’t exactly a charity, ya dig? He expects me to pay him back―with interest―and until my balance is cleared, he won’t risk me wandering off with ‘his’ property. He had my implants hexed with a tracking curse. He can find out where I am any time he wants. There’s nowhere in Light City that I can…are you okay?”

I’d never seen the alabaster flier go pale before. As white as she normally was, the moment I mentioned the tracker, she somehow managed to blanch into a hue that bordered on transparent. Her pink eyes had similarly widened with what looked to be absolute terror as well, which was getting me feeling more than a little concerned too. It confused me as well. While I’d expected a reaction from the pegasus at the revelation that Grinder had me on an ethereal leash, I’d anticipated that Hash would have been hovering more on the indignant or outraged side of the emotional spectrum. I hadn’t expected outright terror from her.

It wasn’t like Grinder was going to be coming after her if I fucked up. She wasn’t involved in this.

“...He can track you? See where you are?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, my tone betraying my own concern regarding the mare’s reaction. What was she getting so worked up about? I was the one on a short leash. “I know it’s fucked up, but it’s not like he doesn’t know where to find me most of the time anyway. I rarely leave Haywood after all.”

“Pel, this is super important: does the curse just ping where you are? Or does it log everywhere you’ve been?”

I wasn’t quite sure what the pegasus was getting at, nor was I sure of the answer to her question. The truth was that I didn’t know. The details of how the tracker Grinder had installed in me had never really come up because I’d never thought it mattered enough to ask. All I had needed to know was that running and hiding to try and escape him was useless, and so I’d never entertained the thought of trying to escape to some other part of the city and get away from him. It had never occurred to me that Grinder might also be able to look up the exact path I’d taken during any given timeframe.

I suddenly felt a little nervous. If that was indeed something that he could do, then that meant that the stallion would be able to look up whether or not I’d actually gone door-to-door to collect the protection money―assuming the tracking hardware was that precise, and I had no reason to doubt that it wasn’t. So when I paid him the money tomorrow, it was entirely possible that he’d know I hadn’t actually done my job and gotten it from the building’s residents.

Was that what the pegasus mare was so concerned about? Admittedly, I was feeling pretty uneasy too; though I was under the impression most of that was spurred by Hash’s own obvious distress. Would Grinder care more about getting his money, or about where it had come from? I wasn’t sure, to be honest. Even paid in full, with a little extra towards my cyberware debt, it was possible that the earth pony would want to punish me in some way for defying his orders to shake down my assigned floors of the megasilo complex. My life might not be in danger any longer, but that didn’t mean I was going to get out of this unscathed.

“...Fuck!” Hash swore under her breath. She’d clearly elected to take my silent ignorance as a tacit indication that the risk of my movements being tracked and logged was too significant a probability to flat out ignore. That didn’t explain why she seemed as upset as she was though. Grinder was my problem, not hers.

I watched as the pegasus’ face shifted through a myriad of expressions ranging from fearful, to frustrated, to despairing; until finally resting on resigned. She reached out with her wings and clasped both sides of my face with them, ensuring that she had my undivided attention, much to my own surprise. “Listen: don’t go back to the apartment tonight, okay?”

“What? Why? Where am I supposed to sleep!” I sputtered at the mare. “I’m caught up on my part of the rent!”

“It’s not about―” Hash nearly snapped, but stopped herself and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing in a―slightly―calmer tone. She still sounded more than a little stressed out over something though. “Please, just trust me, okay? Don’t go back home.” She released my face with one of her wings and dug around in her saddlebag, quickly withdrawing a laminated rainbow-colored card. She passed it to me. “This is a pass to the green room here. It’s got comfy couches, plenty of food and drinks, vid chips, there’s a mare―Daisy―she’ll bring you whatever you want, no questions asked. Everything’s on the house, no cost to you, so don’t hesitate. Treat yourself!

“How’s that sound?”

I stared in shock as the telekinesis of my implanted talisman took hold of the blank rectangle of chromatic plastic that purportedly entitled the bearer to so much privilege by its mere possession alone. Assuming that everything she was telling me about it was true―and lies of this nature wasn’t something Hash was known for―I couldn’t help but wonder: why did the pegasus have this? Was this something she’d used her know-how and skill to forge? “Just promise me you won’t go back to the apartment, okay? Not until I tell you it’s safe.”

That got my attention, my eyes ceasing their examination of this mystical card of plenty and riveting themselves back onto the pegasus. “...Why wouldn’t our apartment be ‘safe’?” Haywood wasn’t, by any stretch, a ‘good’ neighborhood, to be sure; however, I’d never felt that we were ever in any real danger while at our apartment. Not until right this moment anyway.

Hash’s mouth moved wordlessly for several seconds before she bit down on her lip again and shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” She plastered a smile on her face to try and reassure me, but it didn’t work. If anything, it made me more anxious. I’d seen that exact same expression before. My mother would wear it every time Grinder’s goons came by for their money and she knew she didn’t have all of it. It was the same smile she’d give me when she told me everything would be okay.

…Right before the collection ponies would beat her unconscious for coming up short.

“Now go; enjoy yourself!” She reiterated, pushing the pass closer to my chest. All the while that not-smile never left her face. Her eyes, creased at their edges with feigned joy, reflected nothing but a deep sense of worry and apprehension. Again evocative of my mother’s own pleading face when she encouraged me to stay quiet and out of sight until Grinder’s thugs felt satisfied that the mare had been properly ‘reprimanded’ and finally left our apartment.

Faced with such familiar foalhood sights, how could I not fall back into my old foalhood routine? How could I do anything but exactly what was being asked of me without resistance?

So I nodded along in understanding, keeping the pass close to me. “Yeah. Okay, Hash. Whatever you say. I won’t go back to the apartment.”

“Good!” She replied, almost too quickly. She swallowed. That saccharine lie of a smile quivered a brief moment but didn’t ever fully fall away. Hash wasn’t as good at this as my mother had been. “Good…

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

I swore I could almost hear the little flier speaking with my mother’s voice. Without another word, Hash ignited her levitation talismans and flittered off towards the club’s exit, leaving me alone within the crowd of VIPs who’d been too busy cheering for the band to pay either of us any mind. Nocreature even seemed to pay the pegasus any mind as she darted overhead, their attention focused on the band that was launching into the next song in their set.

A powerful staccato of chords blared above the roar of the crowd.

“We lost everything!
“We had to pay the price!”

This time the energy of both the music and the band’s cheering fans rolled off of me with no effect. Everything felt so muted and distant now. I wasn’t in the mood for the band’s lyrical messaging about systemic resistance anymore. I’d been made too numb by bitter memories and heightened anxieties. What had Hash gotten us into that had even the usually nonchalant hacker this concerned for our safety? I tried to bleed away the anxiousness with several deep breaths, but it was to no avail. There was too much going on around me. I needed to get away from the crowd. Clear my head. Recenter myself.

I glanced down at the pass I was holding in my telekinesis. My eyes scanned my surroundings until they found the minotaur bouncer from earlier. He’d know where this ‘green room’ that Hash had mentioned was. Hopefully he wouldn’t think I’d stolen this pass or that it was the forgery I suspected it was…

Much like before, the hulking bull was nothing but courteous to me and wasted little time in directing me to a nearby corridor where he assured me the door leading to the room was located. Even though the minotaur had never met me before, my association with Hash Stack appeared to have earned me a lot of clout in this place. Enough so that it left me wondering who she was to the creatures running the club. Because it was obvious that she was more than ‘just a regular’. They didn’t let mere ‘regulars’ have backstage privileges or personal passes to private rooms.

It wasn’t hard to identify the door that this pass likely belonged to. One clearly stood out from the others as being more important than a bathroom or storage closet. The door in question looked to be heavily reinforced. Indeed, it looked to me like less of a door to a glorified break room than it did a secured military bunker, if I was being honest. I wondered if I was going to find a secret underground resistance command center on the other side rather than a snack bar and a minifridge full of drinks.

A reader mounted into the wall beside the seemingly blast-proof barricade responded to the presentation of the card with a pleasant trill. Despite its obvious sturdiness, the door slid smoothly upward with a quiet hydraulic hiss. As much as the exterior had suggested some sort of militarized fortress, the interior was far more evocative of what I imagined the lounges reserved for high-level executives looked like on the upper floors of megacorp skyscrapers. Stepping inside felt like I was passing instantaneously from the slums of Haywood right onto the top floor of Aeriesaka Tower.

Why had Hash Stack given me this card? Why did she even have this card? Why did a grungy music hall inside of an abandoned factory have a back room that was decked out like the officer of a corporate CEO? What was going on here? A hundred questions swirled around inside my head as I tried to process what I was seeing.

It was mere seconds after I set hoof inside the purported ‘green room’ that a sunflower earth pony mare with a brilliant scarlet mane stepped into view from seemingly out of nowhere. She was wearing a form-fitting black cocktail dress that was very flattering to her figure and a broad smile that looked to be completely genuine. She was the spitting image of a high-end hostess that one might expect to find greeting them at the door of an exclusive restaurant. The kind of place that required a personal invitation from the owner, a seven-figure line-of-credit, and a six month wait with a reservation to get into. Yet, here she was; and so was I somehow.

“Hello there! My name’s Daisy; can I get you anything? Perhaps a drink to start you off?” She offered, even as the gemstone mounted in her forehead began to glow, pulling over a menu booklet and offering it to me. I took the menu absently in my own magic, barely even looking at it as I puzzled over where she’d come from.

“Oh, uh…whiskey?” I needed something to help settle my nerves, and alcohol had always worked in the past. The mare nodded politely, but continued to hold my gaze in patient silence as she looked at me expectantly. It took me a moment to realize that she was waiting for me to be more specific about my drink order. “Neat! Also a double.” I paused for a brief moment before adding with a hesitant tone. “...top shelf?”

Daisy grinned back at me. “Nothing but! I’ll be right back, miss; make yourself comfortable.” She gestured towards one of the many leather chaise lounges lining the walls of the room before she turned and headed for a side door that I hadn’t noticed upon entering. In my defense, I’d been rather distracted by, well, by the everything.

Once more on my own in a room whose opulence made me feel like I was desecrating a temple simply by being present, I hesitantly made my way towards one of the lounges. I bent down and examined the rich burgundy-hued crushed velvet upholstery and immediately decided that I couldn’t bring myself to actually lay down on it. I was positive that the moment I did, somepony was going to walk in here, recognize that a mare like me shouldn’t be allowed to touch things like this and―rightfully, in my opinion―buck me back outside where I belonged.

So I just sort of slowly meandered around the room, looking at the various paintings hanging on the walls. I didn’t know anything about art, but everything I saw looked expensive to me. At the very least, they had super thick and exquisitely-styled golden frames. In movies that always meant the paintings contained in them were extremely valuable. Which only further heightened my curiosity as to what was really going on in this place. Because it was obvious even to me now that this wasn’t just some converted old building that was being used as a makeshift nightclub to host small-time punk―excuse me―grunge bands.

The sunflower mare whose dress had me briefly contemplating my assumptions regarding my sexual preferences up to this point returned, balancing a tray with a single glass of whiskey on her back. That same smile from before was still firmly in place on her lips. “Here’s your drink, miss.” She sidled up near me, nodding her head back towards the tray. I reached out with my telekinesis and took the glass, but I didn’t drink from it immediately. “Have you decided what you’d like to order?” Her head dipped briefly in the direction of the menu that I was still holding onto.

I hadn’t even glanced at the menu I’d been given of course. Caught off guard by the other mare’s question, I fumbled both with the laminated piece of paper and my words as I struggled to make a hasty decision. I wasn’t even sure how to pronounce half the names for the dishes on this document. Quite a few of the letters had extra symbols above and below them that I didn’t recognize as being part of the alphabet that I’d learned in school either. Abandoning hope of being able to do anything but make a further fool of myself by trying to stumble my way through naming something on the menu, I just looked pleadingly at the mare. “I don’t suppose I can just get a fresh salad? Maybe with croutons, if you have any?”

The smile never left her face, and it was either completely genuine, or this mare was a good enough actor to be in film, because I could see nothing but warmth in her expression. It did quite a lot to relax me, if I was being honest. It was like she wasn’t questioning whether or not I was allowed to be back here. Even though it had to be obvious how out of place I was. “I’m sure I can whip up something you’ll like,” she assured me, retrieving the menu from my magic with her own implant and tucking it away on the tray where the drink had been only moments ago. She then gestured once more to a nearby couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Really. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks…Miss Daisy,” I managed to get out as the mare turned to leave. She paused long enough to nod her head and flash another smile before once more leaving out the side door which I suspected led to a kitchen of some sort. I might not have been able to identify any of the foods on that menu, but I was pretty confident that none of them were the sort of thing that came packaged in a tray that got heated in a microwave for three minutes before being served.

This time I did ease myself onto one of the plush velvet chaise lounges. Though I was mindful to keep my hooves from touching the upholstery, still not wanting to risk scuffing it or getting it dirty. I marveled at the quality of the cushions I was laying on. They felt softer than the bed I slept on in the apartment. This couch probably cost more than my apartment.

I took a sip from my drink, and marveled at how smooth the liquor was going down. I barely even felt the burn of the alcohol. This really was top shelf! Like, the sort of stuff that cost more gibbies per bottle than I currently had in my account right now, top shelf. Why was something like this being served in an underground rock pit? What was going on here?

My thoughts were interrupted by Daisy’s return. This time the tray on her back had been replaced by a small cart that she was pushing towards the lounge I was reclining on. I found myself almost involuntarily sitting up, not feeling comfortable to be seen lazing around while somepony nearby was working. It felt rude.

My eyes involuntarily darted first to the mare’s flank as it swayed with each step she took, but then they very quickly locked onto the contents of the cart she was pushing towards me. Sitting on top of it was easily the largest bowl of fresh greens that I’d ever seen in real life. I was forced to immediately swallow back what felt like a gallon of saliva which had suddenly manifested in my mouth at the sight of the ‘salad’. ‘A small garden’ seemed like a more apt way to describe what was being presented to me. It wasn’t alone either. Accompanying it was a large glass of crystal clear water, a grinder filled with harsh parmesan cheese, and several decanters of various oils and colorful vinaigrettes.

The mare began to regale me with a detailed description of what I was being served, listing the contents of the salad and naming each of the various dressings as she pointed to them. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to her anymore. My brain was still trying to process the feast that was sitting in front of me. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been blocking Daisy out, but it was long enough that the mare had to ask me the same question three times before I registered that I was being spoken to.

“I’m sorry, what?” I blurted, finally managing to tear my eyes away from the heavenly bowl in front of me.

Her warm smile still didn’t waver though. “I asked: if you’d like some cheese on your salad?” She repeated once more, holding up the grinder in her hoof and nodding towards the bowl.

“Oh! Uh, no, I’ll take care of it. Thanks.” I then hesitated and looked between my whiskey and the salad. I knew what Hash Stack had told me about all of this being complimentary, but at the same time… “So, how much do I owe for all this…?”

“It’s all been taken care of, miss.” Daisy assured me. “You just relax and enjoy your meal. Call if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay.” I wasn’t going to call her. I already felt like I’d wasted more of her time taking care of me than I had any right to. I was sure she had much more important things to do.

The mare nodded and left. The moment the door closed behind her, I buried my face in that bowl. Literally. Face in bowl, eating it like I was a fish going through water. Zero grace; zero dignity. Just a teary-eyed mess of a mare enjoying the first truly fine meal of her entire life. It had been forever since I’d been able to afford a meal that wasn’t just a calorie bar packed with vitamins. Even then, ‘real’ food to me had just been a microwaved tray of flavored tofu of one sort or another.

I mean, come on; me? Afford a real vegetable? That was grown in the dirt? In Light City? Ha! The closest I came to ‘carrots’ was purportedly carrot-flavored tofu formed into the shape of carrots. If I was feeling like spurging, I got a brand that added some orange coloring to further enhance the fantasy.

I licked that bowl clean. Also literally.

I’m sure I could have called for Daisy and asked for a second helping, but I just couldn’t quite fight my way past my own sense of inferiority to do it. Despite every assurance and indication that I’d gotten from both her and Hash Stack about there being no limit to what I could avail myself to in this room, to my mind, I’d already gotten far more than I ‘deserved’ out of this.

It was all still so surreal. Pampering like this didn’t happen to mare’s like me. Fuck, even if I’d pimped myself out as an escort―the sort that got taken out to dinner before being fucked in a nice hotel room―I couldn’t have hoped to score a night out like this. I didn’t have nearly the looks, or the social chops, to land a client who’d dole out the scratch to treat me to stuff like this. It boggled the mind what I―or any mare really―would have to be capable of doing in bed that would justify that sort of pre-sexcapades treatment, honestly.

My meal done with and my whiskey long since drunk, I found myself once more laying on the lounge with nothing to occupy my thoughts. Which caused them to wander again. Inevitably, those thoughts landed back on the matter of Grinder, and my inevitable meeting with him to pay him the money I owed. Even knowing I had more than enough to satisfy him, I couldn’t help but get that tight ball of nervousness and dread forming in the pit of my stomach at the thought of the deadline looming over me. It was pavlovian at this point.

I kept reassuring myself that I didn’t have anything to worry about. I had Grinder’s money. I could square my accounts and be free of him for the rest of the month. Until next time. That was Future Pel’s problem though. Present Pel was free to feel at ease tonight. I didn’t though, because those gibbies were still in my account and not Grinder’s; which meant that I wasn’t square yet.

Of course, I couldn’t think of a reason why I had to wait until tomorrow night to finally pay him. It wasn’t like Grinder was going to turn me away if I was trying to give him his money early. That way, maybe I’d even be able to enjoy tomorrow properly, without having to keep my eye on the clock the whole day and worry about missing the meeting to pay him.

Yeah, I’d call him now and set up a rendezvous to pay him off as soon as possible. Hopefully some time tonight. It was hard for me to think of anything he’d be doing that he’d consider more important than getting the fifteen kay I owed.

I tapped into my arcanetic implants and tried to connect with the stallion for a clairaudient call. Imagine my shock when the spell failed with an anemic sputter of diffused mana from the talisman, catching me by complete surprise. I’d never encountered a problem like that before. I creased my brow and reached out with my telekinesis to grab hold of the empty whiskey glass. The glass began to glow and floated effortlessly into the air. My talisman was clearly still functional. I returned the glass and focused once more on connecting with Grinder.

Once more the spell fizzled inexplicably. This time, however, I paid more attention to the illusionary message that had appeared in the corner of my vision. It was an automated report from my implant’s matrix that was informing me of the precise issue being encountered. I read through the alert with interest.

>>ERROR 203: LEY LINE ATTENUATION FAILURE

I frowned, staring in mild disbelief at the message. It was an extremely uncommon one, in my experience; and it certainly wasn’t one which I’d anticipated running into. If anything, I’d anticipated that I’d either somehow missed a matrix update for my implant, or Hash Stack’s own patch job had been uncovered and locked out. However, that wasn’t what this error was referring to. It only popped up when the implant was reporting insufficient energy to perform the requested spell. Essentially, the talisman couldn’t draw on enough mana to connect me to Grinder.

Which wasn’t possible. Not in this instance anyway. A clairaudience cantrip required less mana than the telekinesis that I’d just performed on the whiskey glass. Especially if Grinder was anywhere in Haywood. Even if he wasn’t, there was no way that I could have exceeded my talisman’s rated mana load while using just the one cantrip. I might not have the most robust cranial implant in the world, but it was absolutely capable of placing a call within the city.

I tried to reach Hash Stack. At least I knew that she was somewhere nearby―

>>ERROR 203: LEY LINE ATTENUATION FAILURE

Okay, now that was just weird. Still frowning, I got up from the couch and started walking around the room, wondering if I’d somehow just managed to find the only ‘dead zone’ in Light City where there wasn’t a clear means of connecting to one of the city’s many ley lines which allowed for the flow of spells from one location to another. It wasn’t like this part of Haywood saw a lot of infrastructure maintenance, after all.

It wasn’t until I stepped out of the room and back into the corridor that my call to Grinder finally went through. I glanced back towards the reinforced door behind me, briefly wondering whether it was just the door of that room that had been beefed up. Then my thoughts were redirected back to the call when I heard the familiar gruff tone of the stallion I worked for in my head.

“S’up, bitch? You got my gibbies?”

I swallowed back the instinctive lump of fear in my throat that hearing his voice evoked. I forced myself to breathe normally, doing my best to keep myself sounding nowhere near as intimidated as I felt. Weakness was dangerous. “Of course I’ve got them.”

“Yeah, I bet you fuckin’ do…” Came the stallion’s muttered reply. I wasn’t entirely sure how to take his comment, so I remained silent. “Warehouse. Now. With my money.”

“Got it. On my way, boss,” I replied automatically. You didn’t tell Grinder ‘no’ after all. Not if you wanted to stay healthy and whole.

The stallion ended the call without another word, and that was when I briefly hesitated. I glanced back down the corridor towards the stage and the still ongoing performance. I couldn’t spot Hash Stack, but I recalled how adamant she’d been about her warning not to return to the apartment until she got back. I still didn’t understand what the little white pegasus’ hang-up about that was, and it looked like I was going to have to wait to find out. It wouldn’t take me all that long to duck down to the warehouse, pay off Grinder, and then hurry back here. I could probably get back before she knew I was gone, for as long as she’d been away already.

Taking an educated guess, I glanced the other way down the hall and spotted the expected alternate exit. Building’s like this always had multiple ways in and out as a consequence of city fire codes, and even after its conversion into a nightclub/concert venue, I knew that the creatures running it would want to keep a back entrance available for the talent to use to avoid the crowd. I quickly ducked out the back way, waving a hasty ‘goodbye’ to the pair of hippogriffs who were sitting outside minding the door. They seemed a little surprised at my departure, but I didn’t hear them yell out anything which suggested they wanted me to stop, so I kept on cantering towards the warehouse I typically met with Grinder at.

It took me a little over ten minutes to make it the two kilometers to the meeting spot. Once there, I slowed to a walk and made my way to the main entrance. I nodded a silent greeting to the unicorn stallion who had been assigned look-out duty for the evening. The little hairs near the back of my mane stood up on end when all I received in response was an amused snort and a leer. While nopony in Grinder’s boosterherd would ever be accused of being overly cordial, that was a decidedly unusual response to a simple greeting from a fellow herd member. It felt more like something that would be directed at an outsider whose presence was merely being tolerated…and only temporarily.

Not that I was on great terms with everypony in the herd, but I was still one of them. Maybe it was because of how overdue I was with the money? Hopefully squaring my debt would smooth things over with the rest of the herd too.

My unease only grew the further into the warehouse I ventured. I was getting odd looks from quite a few of my fellow herd members, I noted; and I overheard more than a few whispers and even the odd chuckle being directed at me. I didn’t like it. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. Not that I could exactly just turn around and scoot out of here. There was no way I was going to be allowed to leave right now; not before I paid off Grinder. A small part of me was wondering how assured I could be of my freedom after giving him the money though.

Had the stallion reconsidered his position on my position with the herd since yesterday?

I rounded a stack of crates and found myself finally face-to-face with the herd leader. The crimson earth pony stallion was leaning casually against a large crate, having what appeared to be a casual conversation with a unicorn mare.

I froze, feeling all of the color drain from my face.

I recognized that unicorn. How could I not? I’d seen her just an hour ago in the apartment that Hash and I had broken into. I’d briefly debated the merits of putting a bullet in the back of her head. Why was she here? Why was she speaking with Grinder?

Their conversation paused as somepony else signaled to the stallion. The moment Grinder glanced in my direction and I caught the look of unbridled fury in his eyes, I knew exactly why that mare was here…and I suddenly realized whose apartment we’d broken into that night.

“Oh no…” I whispered under my breath.

Hash, what did you do?!

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 4: The Fall

I was so fixated on the stallion in front of me that I didn’t see who it was that bucked me from the side. I was easily knocked over, bouncing off the floor and into a steel-sided container with a rather loud ‘clang!’. Some additional hooves came down on me, delivering more punitive strikes before I had time to react. Instinctively, I tried to curl up into a ball and protect myself as best as I could, using my reinforced forelegs to ward off the blows. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much in the end. I couldn’t defend myself from the whole herd as they assaulted me from all sides.

Mercifully―or perhaps not, I’d learn in the fullness of time―it was not my fate to be beaten to death right here and now. Though I had certainly earned exactly that sort of fate. After all, I had apparently been involved in a robbery perpetrated against the leader of my herd! I knew for a fact that Grinder had killed a great many creatures for far lesser offenses.

My aching body was hauled up off the ground by a pair of strapping stallions as I was propped up so that Grinder could look me in the eye. I tried to subdue a fit of coughing as a result of a spasming diaphragm which had been kicked mercilessly several times while I’d been on the ground. A hoof smacked me hard across the face. I tasted blood. A heartbeat later my head was pulled up, forced to look into the furious orange maelstroms that were Grinder’s glaring eyes.

“I’d ask what you thought you were doing, but it’s clear that I beat the last brain cell out of you a while ago,” the stallion seethed through gritted teeth. “What the fuck kind of psycho suicidal bender are you on anyway? You break into my home, take my gibbies, and actually have the fucking audacity to show up here?!

“What? You too much of a bitch to do the world a favor and bite your own bullet, so you figure you’ll just get me to zero you out for some monumentally stupid shit?” The last was spoken with a hint of laughter, but all of it was mirthless.

“Because if that’s the case; oh, you fucked up big time, you worthless little cunt.” Another backhoof across the face. Hard enough that the persistent illusion hovering in front of my eyes vanished for a moment as the spell lost cohesion and was forced to automatically re-cast itself. “I ain’t going to let you off that easy.” On the next hit, I felt something give in my snout. At best, my nose was broken, but I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn a bone or two had been fractured. It certainly hurt enough. “Or maybe I will.

“You see, I know you, Pel. The cum joy-toys swallow has a higher IQ than you got, so I know you couldn’t have pulled this off on your own.” Again my head was forced back up so that Grinder could look me in the eye. “So I’m going to make you this one-time offer: you tell me who your partner was, and I’ll forgo flatlining you. At least until you fail to pay me with gibbies you didn’t siphon from my account.

“Otherwise, I’m going to play ‘Ripper-Doc’ right here and now and pull you apart, piece by fucking piece, and grind up what’s left into sausage. I hear the diamond dogs down in Santo Dingo pay good scratch for fresh meat. I might actually get some money out of you that way.” This time his laughter was joined in by other members of the boosterherd. A few of the carnivorously-inclined species made some exaggerated lip and beak smacking noises that sent a shiver down my spine.

“So, what’s it going to be, donk? Live another day? Or get turned into the world’s bloodiest jigsaw puzzle tonight?”

‘Despair’ felt like a woefully inadequate word to describe what I was feeling at that moment. Nor was it alone. Fear and anger were also making their presence known. I didn’t want to die, of course; but I was hard-pressed to see any way out for me. I was just one mare surrounded by a whole boosterherd. I couldn’t fight them all. Even if they hadn’t already jumped me, I couldn’t have escaped the warehouse, let alone Haywood. Grinder had me dead-to-rights. Emphasis on ‘dead’. That was just a fact that I wasn’t going to change. Even if he did let me go tonight after I gave up Hash, he and I both knew that I wasn’t going to have his money by tomorrow. We’d just be right back here again in twenty-four hours.

I was a dead mare. All that was apparently left to me was to choose the manner in which I died, and with how much integrity.

I could choose to keep my mouth shut. To protect Hash Stack from Grinder’s wrath. If I was dead either way, then what good did it really do me to bring the pegasus down with me? Which wasn’t to say that I was looking forward to the prospect of the torturously long and drawn-out death that Grinder had promised me if I kept my silence. At least with the alternative I’d been offered, there was a good chance the stallion would be willing to make it a cleaner death. A single bullet to the brain box. Maybe I could even persuade him to do it from behind so that the barrel of a gun wasn’t the last thing I saw.

All I’d have to do was give up Hash’s name.

And why shouldn’t I? What was happening to me right now was Hash’s fault. I might not be a genius, but even I could see that it hadn’t been a coincidence that she’d decided to steal from Grinder less than a day after I mentioned him being the source of my financial woes. I realized only too late why it was that she’d told me not to go back to the apartment. Too bad she’d been so specific…and had skimped on the details as to why.

What she’d apparently meant to tell me was that I shouldn’t leave that room; a room which I now suspected had been shielded with some sort of enchantment. It would make sense that a room which had quite clearly been equipped with such obvious mundane resistances to physical intrusions would also be afforded enchantments to ward off magical ones. I’d had other thoughts on my mind at the time, but I now realized that the issue I’d had calling on Grinder while in the room could have been explained by an emplaced ward around the room which blocked my clairaudience spell from connecting beyond its boundaries.

The same enchantment would almost certainly have been able to mask the curse Grinder had hexed me with that allowed him to track my location. That was why Hash Stack had sent me to that room. She knew that the stallion wouldn’t be able to find me as long as I was shielded by the enchantment surrounding it.

Of course, telling me all of that would have required admitting that she’d known exactly who’s apartment we had broken into, and how deep in the shit she’d gotten me with Grinder and the herd.

She’d probably thought that paying Grinder off with his own gibbies would be hilarious. Some ironic form of karma, or whatever. Under the right circumstances, I might have even agreed that it would be exceptionally funny to defraud an extortionist by paying him with his own ill-gotten wealth. It did hold a certain sort of symmetry. However, these were not the ‘right circumstances’ in my view, and thus I wasn’t any more amused at the flier’s audacity than Grinder likely was. She could have taken me along to rob just about any other creature in the city and we’d have gotten away with it clean; but instead she chose to target the one stallion who could get to me the easiest. Worse, she hadn’t even had the decency to warn me about the danger that she’d put me in.

The pegasus may have done a lot to help me out since I’d moved into her place―if it hadn’t been for her, I’d definitely be sleeping in a cardboard box somewhere―but she hadn’t done nearly enough for me to stick my neck out for her like this; to cover for her hubris.

I was willing to die for my fuck-ups. I’d earned that for myself through my own actions and decisions. But I wasn’t going to suffer for hers.

“My roommate,” I managed to croak out through my throbbing jaw. Yeah, it felt pretty broken. “Hash Stack. Her plan.” I waited for the stallion to pull out his gun and shoot me in the head in spite of his earlier promise to spare me in exchange for the information he wanted. A small part of me even silently prayed for it. Hoping beyond hope that Grinder would just end my misery here and now in a relatively painless fashion.

The earth pony stared at me for several impossibly long moments in complete silence, weighing how honest I was being with him. Apparently, he ultimately concluded that he believed me, because his next words were directed at one of the stallions holding me up. “Take her to Angelo’s. Bring backup with you. Solve the problem.”

“Got it, boss,” the pegasus on my left acknowledged.

The ponies holding me were about to drag me off when Grinder stopped them. The crimson stallion forced me to look him in the eyes one more time. I saw brief flickers of activity in the gemstone above his eyes as the boosterherd leader’s implant went to work. A second later, I saw an alert flash across my own illusionary HUD, notifying me that an ‘administrative charm’ had been activated from within my own implant. Then I was informed by the bank that a transfer was being processed. I saw every last gryphusbit in my account vanish.

That was fair, I conceded. Though it did unnerve me that the stallion had been able to execute the transaction on my behalf like that. I hadn’t been aware that he possessed that level of control over my arcanetics. I felt a chill in my stomach as I began to wonder what else he could force me to do through my implants…

“Get this out of my sight,” he spat, smacking me once more across the face for good measure; hard enough that I experienced a flash of arcane feedback which screwed up the illusionary charm that was pretty much constantly in effect. It became nearly impossible for me to see clearly for nearly a minute while I was being dragged out of the warehouse.

I wasn’t taken far. Angelo’s was a small diner that the herd frequented a couple blocks from the warehouse. It was owned by one of the herd’s more tenured members. Some grizzled diamond dog who’d been long in the tooth even when Grinder had been in diapers, or something like that. The noodles here were actually pretty good, or so I’d been told. I’d never had the spare scratch to eat here, even with the discount offered to members of the herd. If Grinder had heard that I was blowing gibbies on eating here instead of paying off what I owed him for my implants, he’d have smacked me around for ‘holding out on him’.

It didn’t look like I was being taken here for any sort of last meal though. The diner was closed. Ah well; I’d already gotten to enjoy an amazing salad earlier that night. So that was a pretty decent note to go out on. Though, had I known where this night was going to go, I definitely would have asked for a second helping…and I would have asked Daisy for some of that cheese she’d offered.

I was ushered none-too-gently onto a stool at the bar by one of the stallions who’d dragged me here. I was finally able to get a good look around, and noticed that it wasn’t just the three of us here. Four other members of the herd had also tagged along. Currently, they were checking their weapons and ensuring they were loaded and functional.

Somepony cuffed me over the back of the head, getting my attention. It was the pegasus Grinder had given his instructions to. “Call your friend. Tell her to meet you here. Tell her you’re alone.”

I managed a stiff nod, my gaze flickering briefly to the rifle the cobalt flier was manipulating with his talisman. “Right. Yeah.”

There wasn’t any doubt in my mind what was about to happen: I was being used as bait in a trap designed to lure in and kill Hash. I’d call her, she’d come down, and then the herd would jump her and shoot her dead. Jury was still out on whether I’d follow right after or not. I doubted very much anypony would get so much as a tongue lashing from Grinder if anycreature were to ‘miss’ while firing on Hash Stack and gun me down along with her. At best, he’d ask them how much damage there’d been to my arcanetics that would affect their resale value.

I initiated the call.

“...Hey, Pel. What’s up? Enjoying the VIP treatment?” My roommate answered. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard something off in her tone. Some slight trepidation or worry, maybe? I thought I’d detected a little surprise at the beginning. Maybe not though. I was understandably under a lot of stress, and surrounded by a lot of creatures who were as likely to kill me as not in the next hour or so, so my senses weren’t exactly as focused on the conversation as they should have been.

“Yeah, it was preem. Thanks for that.” The pegasus stallion was glaring at me, his wing gesturing for me to hurry the conversation along to the salient points of the call and get the pegasus to come here. “Hey, um, how about I treat you to dessert? Only fair, right? I, uh, know this neat place that’s just up the road a bit. Angelo’s? They have great…desserts.” I finished lamely, trying to ignore the unimpressed stare I was getting from the nearby feathered stallion. What?! It’s not like I ever claimed to be good at this sort of thing! If they wanted me to say something specific, they should have given me a script…

I winced. Hash was going to see right through all of this and refuse to show up. She wasn’t going to show, I was going to be dragged back to Grinder, he was going to think I was protecting Hash, and then he was going to start ripping me apart―

“Sounds great! You said ‘Angelo’s’, right? On Citrus Street? I know the place. Be there in a few!”

I blinked in mild shock. That…had worked? Huh. Either Hash wasn’t as streetwise as I’d thought, or I was a much more convincing liar than I gave myself credit for. “Awesome. See you soon.” I replied flatly before ending the spell. “She’ll be here in ‘a few’,” I informed the pegasus stallion numbly, still finding it hard to believe that this was happening. I’d just succeeded in leading the kindest mare in the city to her doom. Gold star for me.

The stallion nodded and I saw his eyes glaze over as he engaged his own clairaudience spell and linked with the other herd members nearby. “Get in position.” Wordlessly, they all moved out of sight. All except for the cobalt pegasus stallion, who instead stepped behind the counter and turned on enough of the lights to make it appear that the small curbside diner was open for business. He stashed his rifle under the counter and busied himself with shuffling plates and bowls around.

There didn’t seem to be any particular sense to what he was doing. Not that I could tell at any rate. He was just…moving things around, trying to look busy. At some point he must have thought it would look suspicious if I was just sitting at a counter with nothing in front of me, so the stallion set out a glass and topped it off with cheap rum. I didn’t touch it. He didn’t order me to.

The pair of us didn’t exchange any words as I stared down at the counter, watching him go about engaging in his macabre pantomim of ‘working’ behind the counter out of the corner of my eye as the two of us waited for Hash Stack to show up. I tried to keep myself from kneading my hooves in obvious worry, but it wasn’t easy. I was anxious―very anxious―and I was having a hard time hiding it. I was about to watch a good friend die, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I followed after her; but what could I do about it? It’s not like this was my fault!

At least, Hash’s involvement in all of this sure wasn’t my fault. She was the one who brought all this about by ripping off Grinder! Now she was also about to be the one who was naive enough to fall for what had to be the worst attempt at a lie even I had ever tried to pull off―and that was saying something! At this point, I found it hard to believe that Hash wasn’t trying to get herself ki―

“Hey, bloomba!”

I almost fell off of my stool. Somehow I managed to―barely―stay on it and not scream in surprise. Though there was a substantial string of muttered curses that slipped through my lips under my breath. I was so caught off guard by the arrival of the ivory pegasus mare that, at first, I looked at her in abject shock and confusion, as though I couldn’t fathom why she’d come here. And, to be fair, I found it very hard to believe that the usually very perceptive mare hadn’t sensed anything was wrong with me when I invited her here. After gaping at the pegasus for what felt like far too many heartbeats, I recovered enough to school my features into something a little less revealing of my current flustered state. I even managed a friendly smile―probably. “H-hey, Hash; what kept you?”

It was all I could do not to physically face-hoof at such a moronic statement. Fortunately for me, the pegasus appeared to interpret my comment as friendly sarcastic banter and let out a bubbly little laugh as she responded with a playful retort. “Held up in traffic. Roads are a parking lot at this time of night around here.” She stuck her tongue out at me as a wingtip gestured behind us towards the―clearly―empty roadway nearby. Not a single pair of headlights was anywhere in sight.

“Ha…yeah…” I tried to muster up a laugh of my own, but it came off as rather more anemic than I’d intended. I felt nauseous. My gaze darted to the stallion behind the counter as I tried to stop furtively biting my lip. I was kneading my hooves again. I clamped one down on the counter. “Hey, um…my dude? Two…desserts. Please.”

The cobalt flier glanced up at us, nodded, and moved to the far side of the bar. I very much doubted that he was going to come back with anything edible. He was likely just moving himself out of the line of fire of the other hidden members of the herd who were lying in wait around us. He’d moved far enough away though that I felt confident I could risk speaking to my roommate without being overheard. I couldn’t stop what was about to happen, but I could at least tell her goodbye.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Nah, it’s my fault. I knew Grinder was a monster. Should have figured he’d be a creeper too and curse ya.” The mare replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

I gaped at her. “Wait…do you…know this is a setup?”

“I kinda figured, yeah.” She said with a pitying glance my way.

“So then why did you come?!” I hissed under my breath.

Hash flashed a broad smile my way. “I wasn’t about to leave you hanging in the breeze, bloomba.”

“They’re going to kill you!” This time, my outburst wasn’t as quiet as it could have been.

“They’re going to try,” was the nettrotter’s snarky retort. I thought I noticed a brief flicker from the talisman in her forehead, but it was gone in an instant. My ear flicked towards the bar where I could swear I’d heard the sound of something electronic fizzling, but I couldn’t tell exactly from where.

I didn’t have time to puzzle out the nature or origin of the sound though, because a heartbeat later, shit kicked off.

The cobalt ‘cook’ behind the bar was back in a flash. Whether it was because he’d heard me spill the beans to Hash or because he’d judged it was better for him to make the first move after all, I couldn’t say. In either case, his embedded talisman had retrieved the rifle from beneath the counter and leveled it at Hash’s head in one smooth motion. The alabaster mare turned her head and looked straight into the barrel. The complete lack of any sign of fear on her face was startling to me. If anything, she was finding the attempt to shoot her in the face…amusing!

She certainly wasn’t wearing the smirk of a mare who thought she was in any danger, that was for sure!

The shotgun’s trigger was depressed by the pegasus stallion’s magic. I threw myself bodily off of the stool in an attempt to evade being clipped by any of the weapon’s expelled shot. Hash didn’t have time to evade.

Nothing happened.

The stallion boosterherd member balked. His gaze darted between his rifle and the mare whose brains were very pointedly not splattered all over the roadway, much to his obvious surprise and consternation. He pulled the trigger several more times, but was met with the same silence from his weapon.

“Ohh, is your gun not working?” Hash asked in a tone dripping with feigned sympathy. A heartbeat later, her lips spread apart in a predatory grin. “Let’s try mine!” Without taking her gaze off the stallion, the mare’s left wing flipped up, revealing a revolver that she’d kept hidden within it. She had apparently been keeping it held in her pinion so as not to use her implanted jewel to manipulate it and tip off the stallion that she was preparing a counter-attack. The wing stretched outward, her primary feather wrapped around its grip and resting on the trigger. The moment the barrel of the weapon made contact with the side of the other pegasus’ head, a thunderclap rang out.

In an instant, the diner’s backstop was transformed into a mural of brain, bone, and crystal fragments.

I was given no time to process what had just happened before Hash’s teeth clamped down on the back of my vest and heaved me up and over the counter in one smooth motion. “Stay down!” She called out as the levitation talismans encrusting the leading edges of her wings sudenly flared to life. She leaped into the air and spun around to face the rest of the boosterherd that was now coming out of their hiding spots. She didn’t seem the least bit surprised by their numbers, and I must have misremembered the fight, because it also felt like Hash had looked at where her assailants were emerging from before they’d actually revealed themselves.

I hit the floor hard, as I had most certainly not expected to be thrown over the diner’s counter. My eyes snapped open as I tried to orient myself, and I immediately screamed as I found myself looking into what remained of the cobalt stallion’s skull. I scrambled away a few steps before my attention was drawn to the rest of the ‘ambush’. Given that Hash was apparently keenly aware of what had been waiting for her, I was no longer certain about who the side being ‘surprised’ was anymore.

I picked myself up off the bloodied diner floor. My ears twitched as my hooves clipped something metal and I heard it skitter briefly along the concrete. It was the pistol that I’d taken from the apartment earlier that night―Grinder’s apartment, it turned out. I recognized now that it probably belonged to the crimson earth pony. It must have fallen out of my vest when I landed, I realized. I hesitated as I stared at the weapon, briefly considering picking it up. Not that I knew what I’d do with the thing. I’d never fired a firearm before. I was about as likely to shoot myself as I was to be of any help to Hash Stack. It was best to just leave it where it lay for now and trust that my roommate knew what she was doing.

She certainly seemed to think that she was, given her willingness to flutter right into the trap that had been set for her.

My head rose cautiously up over the lip of the counter so that I could watch how this ended up playing out. Clearly it wasn’t going how it was intended to. At least, not from the perspective of my fellow herd members…

Though I was at something of a loss to explain why? To my mind, they should have had Hash Stack dead to rights! She’d been surrounded and outgunned. Heck, even the pegasus behind the counter had gotten the drop on her with his shotgun and fired first―er, well, pulled the trigger first, at least. Had he fucked up loading it somehow?

If so, then he wasn’t the only one. As I scanned the fight unfolding before me, I spied a griffon tiercel who was in the midst of fumbling with a pistol in his talons which seemed just as stubborn about firing as the shotgun had been. He then screamed out in pain when two more blasts from Hash’s wing-clutched revolver elicited geysers of blood from his back as the high-caliber magnum slugs punched right through him. I found it curious that the alabaster flier was still holding her weapon with her wing, as I could see the arcanetic implant in her head was glowing brightly with the telltale sign of fervent use. Whatever she was doing with it, it wasn’t telekinesis apparently.

The griffon hadn’t even hit the ground when a unicorn mare sporting an arcanetically amplified horn rushed past him, her murderous purple gaze locked onto the ivory flier, along with a pair of readied submachine guns floating at her side.

Again, Hash didn’t seem to react hardly at all to the assault. She merely glanced briefly in the charging unicorn’s direction. A heartbeat later, the mare’s eyes widened with shock and surprise for a brief moment before they shut tightly and she cried out in pain. Her hooves scrambled to a stop. The weapons which had been floating in her telekinetic grasp dropped to the ground, forgotten. The mare reared up on her haunches while her forehooves clamped to either side of her head, clutching it in clear throes of agonizing pain. The ruby lattice etched into her horn started to glow brightly, as though she were going to cast a potent spell…

…and then it continued to glow ever brighter.

The mare unleashed a primal scream that I was sure would have left her throat too sore to speak for the next week…had she lived through the next two seconds. The brilliant glowing of the crystalline webbing etched into her horn finally seemed to reach the limits of its tolerance for arcane capacity…and burst. Her horn shattered into dust, like a yuletide firecracker. The same moment that it burst, her screaming cut off. The mare’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body crumpled into a limp heap in the road like a marionette whose strings had just been clipped. Blood began to slowly flow from her ears and nostrils. A divot now existed in her skull where her horn and cranial talisman had been only seconds before, exposing the smoldering crystal lattices and brain matter beneath.

I was still staring at the sight of the clearly dead unicorn mare when I heard the sound of another guttural warcry. My head snapped around in time to see a diamond dog bracing himself on his hind legs as he brought a shotgun to bear against the ivory pegasus floating in the air who was continuing to thwart their efforts to end her life. As with the others, Hash Stack didn’t seem at all surprised by his appearance as she spun around. Her eyes locked briefly onto the canine, her embedded talisman flashing with a pulse of magic. In that moment, a thick cloud of roiling oily blackness manifested before his eyes. The diamond dog’s enraged yell transformed into one of shocked surprise just before he pulled the trigger. The pegasus mare darted to the side with a sweep of her arcanetically enhanced wings, deftly avoiding being hit by the blast which sailed harmlessly by her into the street beyond.

Honestly, it didn’t look like Hash had even needed to move if she didn’t want to; the shot hadn’t been anywhere near her. At least, that’s what it had looked like from my perspective. It didn’t even look like the diamond dog was trying to track her either as the pegasus strafed around him. I saw her gaze dart briefly to a nearby sign that was standing up along the sidewalk advertising Delamane Cab Services. Because of Hash’s own attention to it, I was able to spot the last couple inches of an orange tail that was poking out from behind it. The floating pegasus didn’t turn to engage the lurking ambusher though. Instead, she looked back at the growling canine which was rubbing furiously at his eyes in an attempt to whisk away the tenacious black mist clinging to his face.

Hash’s cranial implant flickered again. The moment it did, the diamond dog’s ears twitched. Then they locked in Hash Stack’s direction. The cloud forgotten, the canine had the shotgun up and aimed at her…no, not her. The weapon was slightly off, it looked like. It certainly wasn’t tracking the pegasus as she continued to drift past the illuminated sign. All the same, the diamond dog let out a victorious snarl as he pulled the trigger…

…And sent a tight cluster of pellets through the thin advertisement and into the pony hidden behind it. The unfortunate victim of not-so-friendly-fire let out a pained cry and stumbled into view. The orange-maned beige earth pony mare’s own automatic pistol fell from the grip of her telekinetic hold as she lost focus on the spell she’d been using through her talisman to hold it. She was about to call out to the diamond dog to inform him of his erroneous choice in targets, but she didn’t get the chance. Her ignorant canine companion had already racked another shell into the chamber of his weapon and pulled the trigger again.

Just as she opened her mouth, the lower half of her face was scoured away in a hail of lead shot, leaving behind a gory mess of flesh and crystalline filaments. The mare’s body swayed on unsteady hooves as her life began to steadily drain from her body onto the sidewalk. A third shot from the diamond dog severed her left foreleg at the elbow and sent her to the ground in a wordless heap. Two more pumps further mutilated the mare’s corpse amid the gleeful triumphant yips of the diamond dog.

“Stop! Stop, you fucking moron!” A feminine voice was screaming to be heard above the din of the repeated shotgun blasts. A golden hippogriff mare skidded into view from where she’d been sequestered behind the diner, coming to a frantic stop directly in front of where I was still crouched behind the counter. She was waving her talons in an effort to get the attention of her fellow herd member. It was clearly too late to save his victim, but presumably she hoped to convince him to reengage the actual intended target of their ambush. The diamond dog’s ears flicked once more and he spun in the direction of the new voice, but he didn’t level his weapon at her.

Though the cloud still clung stubbornly to his brow, his muzzle was twisted into a look of obvious confusion. It was a look that lasted for less than a second before his body jerked in conjunction with the sound of two more thunderous pops from Hash Stack’s revolver. The ivory flier’s rounds slammed into one side of the canine’s head and exploded out the other in a fan of gore. The cloud evaporated, leaving behind a clear view of the diamond dog’s vacant gaze as he tilted to the side and dropped like a felled tree.

The hippogriff gaped in shock as she watched the last member of her team get taken out of the fight, only then seeming to realize that their target was still at large. Presumably, she’d been so intent on stopping the fratricide unfolding before her that she’d briefly forgotten about the pegasus they were here to kill. She remembered now though. The golden-feathered pseudo-equine spun around to face Hash Stack, her talons holding up an automatic rifle and pointing the weapon right at the pegasus.

Hash was already looking down the sights of her revolver at the hippogriff. At least, I assume that was who the pegasus was aiming at. It was a little hard to tell, given how close to the line of fire my own head was to my roommate’s presumed target. This didn’t seem to be a fact which was lost on Hash Stack either, I realized. For the first time since the ‘fight’ had begun―it had really more of a curb-stomp beat down inflicted on my herd by Hash, in my opinion―the other mare’s pink eyes widened with fear. I would realize later that she wasn’t afraid for herself. She wasn’t worried that the rifle-wielding hippogriff taking aim at her was going to hit her.

She was worried about hitting me by accident. I was inadvertently blocking her otherwise clean shot. Meanwhile, the hippogriff had no obstacles to interfere in her efforts to engage her target.

Hash was about to die, and this time it was going to be my fault!

It had been different when it was the pegasus’ own folly which was going to flatline her. Pissing off Grinder and the herd had been her fault, and getting lured into the ambush they’d made for her was the price she would have to pay for her affront. Being a part of that hadn’t bothered me as much. However, Hash had proven that she was more skilled and cunning than the boosterherders who had intended to claim her life. She’d escaped the trap they’d set, by any reasonable measure, and in fact had turned the tables on them. If anything, I felt like the members of my herd had inadvertently wandered into a trap which she had somehow set for them!

And now I was fucking it all up.

She’d told me to stay down, and I’d defied her. Now she was about to die because I hadn’t done what she told me to. Her death wasn’t borne by her own shoulders anymore; it was on mine.

I couldn’t let that happen.

Fortunately, I also happened to be able to do something about it.

My gaze darted to the floor by my hooves, and the pistol which still lay there from when I’d landed behind the counter. I’d never used one, so I was about as unskilled as one could be with a firearm. However, the hippogriff was near enough to me that I could have leaned over the counter and touched the back of her head if I’d wanted to. It was inconceivable that I could miss at this range.

The jeweled talisman mounted into the base of my horn ignited. A matching crimson aura surrounded the pistol and whipped it up off the floor and over the counter. I lined the barrel up with the back of the unaware hippogriff mare’s head and pulled back hard on the trigger.

Both the ferocity and the tempo of the reciprocating slide surprised me, prompting me to reflexively close my eyes as the weapon fired. In the movies, the characters shooting guns never looked like they had any trouble keeping them steady as they fired. I might not have been a genius physicist, but I was aware of the whole action/reaction thing. I also knew that bullets, once out of their spent casings, were pretty small. So how much of a ‘reaction’ could they really create? Well, it turned out that even the small-caliber bullets fired from a pistol generated a decent amount of recoil. Or, at least, a lot more of a kick than I or my magic had been ready for.

My woefully inadequately-reinforced telekinetic field began to lose its coherence almost immediately as the slide slammed to the rear of the pistol in rapid succession like a tiny jackhammer. I felt the weapon’s barrel flail about in my grasp as the recoil escaped the control of my magic before I could compensate and properly buttress it. I forced my eyes open a crack so that I could swing the errant barrel back on line with the intended target, inwardly cringing at how far I’d allowed it to wander off its original point of aim.

Even though the pistol had probably only escaped my control for just half a second, more than a half dozen rounds ended up missing the hippogriff’s skull; including the first one somehow, which embedded itself into her left shoulder. While far from a lethal wound, that first―and only―strike was enough to distract the golden mare from her target. She was in the process of whirling around to face the fresh threat when I finally managed to get my telekinesis under control and firm up my hold on the automatic pistol. While the first half of the rounds contained in the weapon’s magazine were largely wasted on the space existing around the hippogriff’s head, I managed to place the remainder into the skull of my fellow―and now former―boosterherd member.

The mare jerked, but didn’t scream as her head was shattered by a dozen lead slugs tearing through it. I watched with grim shock as the feathered corpse fell over onto the sidewalk, the rifle still clutched tightly in the talons of her right hand. I was only now aware of how rapidly I was breathing. My pulse was bounding in my ears so loudly that I couldn’t hear anything over my own heartbeat. I swallowed in an effort to clear my inexplicably dry mouth, leaning over the counter to get an unobstructed view of my victim.

She was dead. The hippogriff was dead and I’d killed her before she could get a shot off at Hash Stack. I’d done it; I’d saved my friend!

I looked up to where I’d last seen the pegasus. Hash’s white coat and neon mane made her pretty easy to spot, even without the brilliant glow of her levitation talismans. She’d stopped floating and was standing on the ground now. Her surprised expression was locked onto me as I leaned over the final member of the ambush which had been tasked with killing her in retaliation for the theft earlier that evening. The pinions of her right wing were pressed over her mouth in a gesture of mute horror at what I’d done.

My face broke out into a relieved smile as something near to laughter came out in short gusts from my mouth. None of this had been funny, obviously. I was just feeling such a sense of overwhelming relief unlike anything I’d ever experienced before and I guess my brain wasn’t sure how feelings like that were meant to be outwardly expressed. I was probably bordering on manic as the emotional rollercoaster which had been the last hour of my life finally finished processing.

Five minutes ago, I’d been sitting at the counter with the unabashed understanding that I was going to be dead in the next twenty-four hours. That had cemented itself as a factual part of my reality. I’d also accepted that Hash Stack was going to be dead too. Yet, miraculously―and much to my overwhelming dismay―it was looking like neither of us were going to die after all!

Granted, I was pretty sure that encountering Grinder again any time soon wouldn’t prove beneficial to my health given what had ended up transpiring here. To say that the crimson stallion was going to be ‘upset’ by this would be the understatement of the millennium; so while we might be alive, I wasn’t under any delusions that the two of us were safe. At least in the long term. We were certainly free from immediate danger for the moment, and I had to imagine that Hash Stack knew a way to keep up ahead of any reprisal that Grinder could come up with.

She was right about what she’d told me earlier by the stage: Light City was a big place, and Grinder didn’t have ears everywhere. If we dealt with my curse, then maybe we could get out from under his hoof? It was a thought. A rather hopeful one, too.

“Wow…” I let out in a breathless sigh of relief. I could feel my hooves trembling as the adrenaline started leaving my body. “That was a thing, huh? Where’d you learn to―?”

The pegasus wasn’t looking at me any longer. She was staring at a feather on her right wing, seemingly transfixed by what she saw there. I cocked my head in confusion. “...Hash?”

Her rosy gaze slowly drifted from the feather tip to me. There was no sign of relief there. No look of triumph. Only that same look of shock…and fear.

The talisman mounted on her forehead flickered…and then went dark. The revolver she’d been holding in her telekinesis dropped from her side and clattered on the sidewalk. Her legs trembled. Hash’s lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear any sound coming out or make out what she was saying. Finally, her wings dropped limply at her sides, revealing what had previously been obscured by her feathers: a stain of brilliant crimson on the side of her neck.

My jaw went slack and I felt my heart drop like a stone in my chest. Before my eyes, I saw that little ‘stain’ spread, transforming itself into a steady flow of scarlet fluid that bubbled out of her throat and cascaded down her body. Her gaze still transfixed on me above her quivering lips, Hash collapsed to the ground.

“HASH!”

I vaulted over the counter and scrambled to my fallen roommate, tripping over bodies and slipping in the blood of the slain boosterherd members as I crossed the distance. I froze when I reached her, standing over her body for several long, frantic, seconds as my brain locked up at the sight I beheld. Her neck had been torn open right down through the vital artery that ran along her throat. Life-sustaining blood was flowing freeling out of the wound, creating a growing pool of dusted crimson around her body as it met the sidewalk. She was bleeding to death.

“Shitshitshit!” An unending stream of curses and epithets tumbled out of my mouth as my hooves scrambled to stem the flow of blood. “Fuck!” Upon making contact, my hooves seemed to become instantly slick with the sanguine fluid, slipping and sliding along her neck as I tried―and utterly failed―to seal the wound.

“Stay with me, Hash! I’m going to get you help,” I assured her as I finally managed to wedge one of my hooves into the crease of her neck and―somewhat―block the opening. Though I still saw ruby red rivulets seeping around it and down her throat. I tried not to think about that, endeavoring to clear my mind so that I could cast a clairaudience cantrip. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease pick up…Pickuppickuppicku―”

“HealthHarras emergency line,” A stallion’s voice answered after what felt like far too long of a wait. The calmness in his voice created a dissonance within my head given the scene laid out before me. “Nature of the medical emergency and policy number, please.”

“My friend's been shot!” I cried out, relieved to have gotten through. “She’s been shot in the neck! Please, get somepony here soon! I’m at…I’m―I’m―” My mind blanked entirely on the address, even though I’d been here a dozen times.

“We can track this call to the source, ma’am; we don’t need a location.” The stallion assured me in a tone that sounded almost bored with the call. Sure, it was his job to field calls from creatures reporting serious medical emergencies, and so he probably wasn’t particularly moved by the voices of panicked mares anymore; but my friend’s life was―literally―slipping through my hooves. Hearing the dispassion he was expressing only served to upset me more. “I just need a policy number and help will be dispatched to your location.”

“I…I don’t have a policy number,” I admitted. “Please, just send somepony here and save my friend! I’ll pay you back! Whatever it takes, however much it is, I’ll get you the money! Just please save her!” Tears started to fall down my cheeks as I felt the brief ray of hope I’d been given earlier by having the call answered get snatched out from under me.

The stallion on the other end of the call wasn’t the least bit swayed by my pleas. “I’m sorry, but it’s HealthHarras company policy to only dispatch our teams for confirmed policy holders. If you have a few minutes, I’d be happy to put you on hold while I transfer you to our sales department so that they can enroll you in one of our many great plans right now?”

Was he serious?! “What? No! Don’t put me on hold! She’s dying! Send somepony!”

“Again, ma’am: without a policy number I can’t dispatch a team. However, if you can get the injured party to one of the many conveniently located Critical Care Clinics operated by our partners at Redheart Medical Corp―”

“She doesn’t have that long! Please, I need somepony to come and get her!” I pleaded with the stallion on the other side of the magical link. However, he didn’t even seem to be listening to me anymore as he continued to prattle on.

“―appy to assist with any delivered patients for a nominal fee, which can be repaid through one of their many accommodating low-interest payment plans. Redheart Medical Corporation: The Care You Deserve.

“Thank you for calling and have a nice day!”

The link was severed at the other end.

“No! Please!” I screamed into the disinterested aether around me. “Please…” My body spasmed as it was racked by a sob. I stared down at the pegasus mare beneath me, at a loss for what else I could do to help her. Hash Stack was staring back up at me. Her lips were still quivering, showing flashes of teeth behind them that were stained with blood. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted to the mare dying in my hooves.

Her lips continued to tremble as her glassy eyes remained locked on me. That was what I thought was happening anyway, at first. However, now that I was no longer distracted by my efforts to call for help, I was finally able to make out the faint murmurs of sound which were coming from the ivory pegasus.

She was speaking to me.

I craned my head down to listen. Perhaps she had a plan? Maybe even a policy number for HealthHarras? Whatever Hash had to say to me, listening was the very least that I could do.

“...It’s alright. I forgive you. It’s alright. I forgive you. It’s alright…”

The flier repeated the same two phrases over and over again, like a mantra. I looked down at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was this about the trap I’d brought her into? She’d come here knowing this was a trap, so it wasn’t like I’d actually ‘tricked’ her into doing this. What was she forgiving me for?

Distracted from my efforts to tend her wound and summon assistance, my mind was finally freed to fully take in the current situation. Hash was laying on the ground, a fatal tear in her neck. I’d been so focused on the fact that the wound was there that I hadn’t even paused to consider how it had gotten there. She’d trounced the would-be boosterherd assassins, and hadn’t taken a single hit from any of them that I’d seen. The only one who’d even gotten a shot off had been the diamond dog, and none of his blasts had come anywhere near the pegasus.

That hippogriff mare at the end had been about to shoot her, thanks to me being in the way of Hash’s shot, but she’d never actually pulled the trigger on her rifle. I’d taken her out with the pistol before―

My gut congealed into a hardened lump.

…No…

Nononononono!

I’d shot her! It had been me; my bullet! Hash was dying right now because of me! Because I hadn’t listened to her and stayed on the ground behind the counter like she’d told me to. Because I’d blocked her shot on the hippogriff mare. Because I’d lost control of the pistol when I’d fired it and shot her in the neck!

Hash was dying because of me!

The panic I’d been previously feeling over my impotence to help save Hash Stack was very quickly subsumed by guilt over the realization that I was the direct cause of her impending death. The sobs came more easily now, the tears flowing more freely down my cheeks. I was vaguely aware that I was mumbling a mantra of my own now. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry―”

Hash suddenly tensed up in my hooves. My breath caught in my throat as I immediately concluded that the pegasus was going into her death throes, but that turned out to not be the case. Instead, her wings whipped around me, helping the mare to sit up and bring herself closer to my face on her own terms. Unfortunately this had the consequence of causing the hoof that I was still pressing down on her wound to lose its place. I tried to push the pegasus away so I could reseal the gash on her neck, but the grip of her wings was surprisingly strong, considering the state she was in.

“Listen!” She managed to get out more forcefully, and at a much higher volume than anything she’d said up to that point. Her pink eyes bore into me. I went still and silent, giving the mare my full attention. “I did this,” she affirmed through ragged breaths and gurgling words. I could see flecks of blood dribbling out her mouth now as her efforts to speak forced some of the blood from her neck wound into her mouth. “This wasn’t. Your. Fault. It wasn’t.”

I could feel her wings trembling around my back in much the same way my limbs would shake when I felt myself reaching muscle failure. Yet Hash would not release her grasp. Not yet. Not until she was sure that she’d accomplished this one final task and delivered her message to me. “Tell me…you understand, Pel. Tell me!” I could feel her grip on me slipping, but still the mare held my gaze, her eyes demanding that I acknowledge her.

I didn’t. I didn’t understand, because I knew it was a lie. I was the one who’d shot her. We both knew that. Of course this was my fault. I’d been in her way, and I’d committed to using a weapon that I didn’t understand. I’d been reckless and stupid, and now Hash was paying the price for it.

I didn’t understand, and it was definitely my fault.

“I understand, Hash. I do.” I lied. I was telling a lie to my dying friend. I didn’t know what else to do though. I couldn’t do anything to stop her from dying in my hooves―by my hooves. But, if I could give her some measure of peace at the end by telling her what she wanted to hear, then maybe…

Well, it absolutely couldn’t even approach ‘making up’ for anything; but I didn’t want to see Hash upset with me at the end. It was going to be bad enough watching her die as it was. I didn’t want the last thing I saw in her eyes to be disappointment in me.

Blatant lies though they were, the words seemed to do the trick. The ivory mare’s face was awash with relief. I felt her wings ease their grip as she slid back down the ground, though one of them elected to linger on my cheek for a while longer.

Hash Stack’s expression was very different now. It wasn’t pleading or anxious, or anything like that. If I was asked to assign a name to the expression it would likely have been…calm? Happy, for some reason? There was a visible upturn to the corners of her lips. The frothy blood in her mouth that had been brought up by her attempt to bear the blame for this moment formed an appearance of lipstick, adding a macabre sort of definition to the faint smile. Now that she was back on the ground, I once more tried to apply pressure to the wound. I wasn’t sure to what end, if I was being honest. I knew she was going to die and that I couldn’t save her. We both knew that. I just…I knew that I couldn’t bear to just sit there and do nothing. Even if what I was doing was meaningless.

It was bad enough that I’d shot her. I wasn’t just going to let her bleed out too.

“...So beautiful…” I heard Hash say with a breathless sigh as the tip of her wing traced along my cheek. The corner of her mouth twitched in what looked to me like a wry little smile. “...Wish…I’d said it―” Something gurgled in her throat and choked off her words. She tried to swallow, but something went wrong. Her body gave a little spasm as she gagged on her own blood. Once more I felt myself growing frantic as my brain scrambled to come up with something I could do to help her. Was I supposed to prop her up? I’d need to take my hoof off her neck to do that. Could I roll her onto her side and still keep pressure?

Those thoughts very abruptly became moot, it turned out.

The feather on my cheek fell away. I followed it down as the wing dropped into the pool of blood that the two of us now sat in the center of. My gaze darted to her face. Her smile had waned. She was still staring up at me, but her gaze seemed…unfocused. I noticed that her pupils were much wider now as well. Impossibly wide even; enveloping her irises almost completely.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. My eyes darted to her chest. It was hard to tell, but I was sure I still saw it moving, like she was taking breath. At least, I thought that was what I’d seen. I placed a hoof on her chest, wincing as I added a fresh crimson smear to a pristine portion of her alabaster coat.

Precious seconds counted off in my head as I waited. I didn’t feel her chest moving. I leaned down and put my ear to her mouth. I didn’t hear any more gurgling breaths.

My breaths coming out in ragged, choked sobs, I lifted my head back up and looked down at her. “Hash?” I reached out with my other hoof and tapped the pegasus on the cheek like I was trying to wake her up. “Hash, speak to me!” I felt myself growing more panicked as the other mare continued to fail to respond. My eyes darted to the wound on her neck. I eased my hoof off of the opening, just slightly…

…Nothing flowed out.

My chest grew tight. I swallowed back the lump of grief in my throat and, very slowly, leaned away from the corpse of my friend. For what felt like an eternity, I found that I couldn’t stop staring into her vacant gaze as I continued to border on hyperventilation. I simply sat there, in a pool of my friend’s blood, looking into the glassy dead eyes of the mare that I’d killed. I felt completely numb. The world around me didn’t register anymore.

The sound of distant sirens shocked me out of my stupor, drawing my attention away from the alabaster corpse. The brief―but fleeting―thought that it was the sound of emergency services responding to the battle which had taken place here was enough to pull me back into the here and now. I knew that those klaxons were unrelated to this incident though. Shootings in Haywood involving boosterherds were nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that the LCPD was this quick to respond to, certainly; assuming that any seasoned area resident would have even bothered to call about it.

However, while I might not be particularly concerned about what ‘Light City’s Finest’ would have to say about finding me here surrounded by bodies, the start was enough to remind me that Grinder would certainly be checking in on things in a short while. I didn’t want to be here when he sent additional herd members to find out why he wasn’t getting any updates on how the ambush was fairing. So I forced myself to stand up on unsteady hooves which only seemed willing to move in sluggish, jerky motions as I trudged along the sidewalk.

I didn’t have a firm destination in mind. It wasn’t going to matter where I went anyway. Grinder was eventually going to find me through the tracking talisman; and he was definitely going to come looking for me at some point that night after he found out all of the creatures he sent with me were dead. I just…I didn’t want to be here any longer.

I…I wanted to wake up from this nightmare of a life. I wanted to wake up and have this all be a bad dream. I wanted Hash to still be alive. I wanted to not have this absurd debt with Grinder. I wanted to not be in a boosterherd anymore.

I just wanted a moment of peace before I died.

Apparently my body decided that it wanted to go back to the apartment. I heard Hash’s warning in my head as I stepped through the door, but I didn’t feel the same foreboding that I had back at the concert. The secret was already out after all. Grinder knew I’d robbed him. He was going to know where I was no matter where I went. What did it matter if he caught me in the apartment as opposed to anywhere else?

At least here I could take a shower and wash Hash’s blood out of my coat.

My brain spent a brief moment reflecting on how unremarkable everycreature I’d trudged past on the way here had seemed to find it that a young mare was covered in blood. Or maybe they had remarked on it and I’d simply not paid them any attention. Certainly nocreature had done anything to try to either stop or help me.

I’d leave it to others to parse out what that level of casual indifference said about Light City society. I didn’t particularly care at the moment.

I stepped through the door, hearing it hiss shut behind me without fanfare. It wasn’t like the door cared about the emotional state I was in. It didn’t know its owner wouldn’t be returning, nor did it care. Nopony was going to care. At least not until the next rent payment was missed. The building managers would eventually be by to serve the eviction notice and empty the apartment, tossing everything Hash had owned into a dumpster―everything they didn’t feel like keeping and pawning for themselves, anyway. Then the apartment and its door would serve a new master, and neither would notice or care.

Life would go on like she’d never existed in the first place.

It would go on without me too, in much the same way. Except that my possessions would take up much less space in the dumpster.

I removed my vest, holding it up in front of me as I stared at it with a vacant expression. I was vaguely aware of how annoyed I’d been at getting a small blotch of hydraulic fluid on it the other night. Now it was more red than blue.

I let the ruined garment crumple to the floor and stepped into the shower.

I barely felt myself wince as ice cold water assaulted my back and mane. My eyes were locked on the stainless steel floor, watching as the mixture of water and blood swirled together and vanished down the drain beneath me. The seconds dragged on into minutes, and still more blood continued to wash down my limbs and onto the floor, being swept into the silver mesh at its center. It was an unending ballet of clear and crimson fluids. At least, that was what it felt like. It obviously had to end at some point.

Then I’d shift my body slightly and the water would connect with a patch of blood that had managed to go unmolested by the shower head up to that point and the process would repeat itself. I probably ended up spending an hour rinsing my roommate’s remains down the drain with icy water. When I finally closed off the valve and stepped out of the cramped washroom, my eyes darted down to the bloody hoofprints in front of me. The water dripping off my body was already starting to dilute the prints. I glanced at one hoof which appeared to have managed to step onto one of the bloody prints. I lifted it up, staring with detached indifference at the fresh crimson smear on my frog.

So much for getting clean.

I let out a resigned sigh and resumed making my way to my bed, leaving a trail of water in my wake. My gaze very pointedly refused to lift and make contact with the berth above mine which would never again be receiving a visit from its owner. My eyes burned with tears nonetheless. I sucked in a ragged breath and crawled onto my own bare mattress, vaguely aware of the water which was soaking the foam pad and the thin scarlet streaks my hoof was leaving on it. I was fairly certain that more blood would be joining those faint lines in fairly short order once Grinder tracked me down, so I saw no reason to care much about what I was doing to the mattress.

I rolled over and faced the wall. I didn’t want to see it coming when it happened. Maybe that was cowardly. I didn’t care. I just…I wanted to be able to pretend, for just a little while, that things weren’t as bad as they really were. I wanted to pretend that this was just like any other night. That I was going to have a decent-ish night’s sleep and wake up in the morning refreshed. That Hash Stack was going to already be up and about and had managed to once again ‘accidentally’ order too much food from the apartment’s vendor and offer me half before she headed out for the day.

I wanted to pretend that I hadn’t just killed a good pony. That I hadn’t murdered my only friend.

I’d never had a very good imagination though. So, instead, I just cried and begged Hash Stack’s ghost for a forgiveness that I knew I didn’t deserve.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 5: Inside Mare

Sleep never found me that night. After I shed the last of the tears my body appeared capable of, I simply lay on the damp and bloodstained foam mattress and stared blankly at the bleak pale yellow wall of my sleeping berth, waiting. It would only be a matter of time before Grinder sent more members of the boosterherd to come and finish me off.

According to the illusionary clock hovering in the corner of my vision, it was just after two in the morning when the door to the apartment was finally opened by the visitors I’d been expecting. A collection of hooves, paws, and talons―of both the organic and the arcanetic-sounding variety―strode purposefully into the room behind me.

Despite knowing that they would be coming for me, and believing that I’d sufficiently prepared myself to meet my end, I found myself wincing at the sound of the footsteps. I shut my eyes firmly so as not to chance accidentally catching sight of any of them. I didn’t want to see my end coming.

I silently prayed that they would just shoot me right there and then, make my ending a quick one, and not seek to prolong my torment with pain and torture. Not that I really believed Grinder or the goons he’d sent would actually be quite that charitable. The stallion had promised me no small amount of suffering even before I’d been involved in the deaths of six members of my―now former, I supposed―herd. Surely that further transgression hadn’t earned me a cleaner death.

No, there was going to be a lot of pain coming my way in the next several minutes. Maybe even hours, I thought to myself darkly. I suspected that I was soon going to be wishing that I’d had the courage to end my life on my own terms.

I didn’t have to see my ‘guests’ to know that they were standing huddled around my berth, staring at me. I could feel them looming over me. The seconds of silence dragged on, feeling like minutes to my slowly panicking mind. The longer I went without feeling the pain I knew was coming my way, the more dread I felt at the prospect of it as my brain entertained ever growing expectations regarding the intensity of the torment I was about to undergo. I felt my hooves trembling as the fear in me began to rise.

“I want to look her in the eyes,” a voice declared, presumably to the others around them. Though distinctly gravelly in nature, it was not Grinder’s voice, I was surprised to discover. The creature speaking was female.

My thoughts very briefly dallied on the realization that Grinder hadn’t come here himself to end my life. I actually felt a little relieved by that revelation. No other creatures in the herd came to mind that gave me the impression that they had a deeper sadistic streak running through them than our dear leader did. Perhaps that meant that my suffering wouldn’t be quite as great as it might have been had the crimson stallion come down to dirty his own hooves with my death.

I felt that it was odd that he’d delegated my execution though. He’d given me the impression earlier that making me suffer with his own hooves was something that he’d been looking forward to doing…

A strong set of talons wrapped themselves in my mane and yanked me off of the mattress, curtailing further pondering of the discrepancy. I couldn’t restrain the pained yelp as I was dragged roughly from the berth and cast to the floor of the apartment. Still having no desire to watch what was going to be done to me, I stubbornly kept my eyes firmly shut and my head turned away from my soon-to-be-executioners.

Somepony straddled me, standing imperiously over my body. Something cold and hard reached out and cupped me by my right cheek, forcibly turning my head so that it was facing straight up. I kept my eyes shut, a whimper escaping my lips despite myself. I guess I knew where they were going to start with the beatings.

“Look at me,” the feminine voice growled, sounding like it was only mere inches away. I could smell the heavy reek of alcohol on her hot breath as it slammed into my muzzle. Her words quavered with barely contained rage. “Open your eyes and look at me, you fucking bitch.”

I felt myself shake my head in refusal even as I tried to pull back from her. Not that I had anywhere to go, with her having me trapped against the floor beneath her body. Maybe if I pissed them off enough they’d lose their patience and kill me quicker?

“I said: look at me!” The command was punctuated by something slamming into the floor next to my head with enough force that it made my ear ring. Whether it was the intensity of her words sounding right in my face, or the reverberation in the floor by my head, my eyes sprung open involuntarily and I finally glimpsed the face of the creature who’d come to end my life.

My fear was immediately adulterated by the intrusion of profound confusion as I discovered that I recognized the creature standing over me, but not in the way that I’d expected. While I might not have known the name of everycreature in the boosterherd, I at least knew all of them on sight. At this moment, I found my gaze being reflected back at me by the mirrored surface of a pair of sunglasses being worn over a leering mud-brown face framed by black greasy strands of mane. This was not any creature that I recognized as being a member of Grinder’s herd. All the same though, it was a face that I had seen before. Earlier that evening, in fact.

If I had any further doubts as to the identity of the donkey straddling me, the glimmer of polished silver planted off to my right side served as ample confirmation of her identity. “...Silverhoof?” I heard myself mutter aloud, my confusion manifesting itself in the form of the single spoken word. What was she doing here?

My eyes darted away from the furious features of the singer to seek out the other creatures who’d come to the apartment with her. Sure enough, though still to no small amount of surprise, I recognized the others around me as being the rest of the members of the band that had been performing at the underground concert Hash Stack had taken me to earlier that night. What had been the name of their band again? Samurai? No, that wasn’t right―

“Eyes front, bitch!” Jenny Silverhoof snarled. Her signature limb slammed into the floor once more, startling my gaze back onto her. She gave a firm nod of her head, sending her sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her muzzle in a deliberate move to shift them out of the way so that she could stare down at me unimpeded. I met those icy blue eyes and felt my chest grow tight as I beheld the burning rage within them. That fury was not alone either. In the back of my mind, I noted that there was a faint shimmer to them around the edges. It was a feature I recognized well, having seen it plenty of times staring back at me out of my own eyes in the mirror:

She was hurting.

“Tell me why you did it,” she seethed at me through gritted teeth.

“Jenny―” Another voice spoke up, the griffon tiercel, but the donkey wasn’t interested in whatever he had to say.

“Shut up, Gerry,” she snapped without taking her glowering eyes off mine. “This is the fleck of shit that zeroed Hash. I want to hear why she did it before I paint the walls with her brains.” The griffon grunted but said nothing further, instead seeming to take the opportunity to step away and distract himself with something else in the apartment.

I felt my face crease with confusion once more. They were here about Hash Stack? I hadn’t even processed the threat which followed the revelation before I noticed the jenny’s right hoof moving. A second later, I felt the cold hard steel of a gun barrel press up against the side of my head. There was only a flicker of thought that passed through my mind which took note of the lack of any sign that the donkey had activated her arcanetic talisman before the inevitable dread of imminent death took hold. My eyes clenched shut once more, another whimper escaping my lips as I braced for the end.

Silverhoof didn’t demand that I open my eyes this time. “Tell me why you did it,” she said in a voice that sounded as brittle as it did cold. “Tell me why you killed her.

“Hash took you in,” Jenny went on, still in that same hard tone that was underpinned with just a touch of grief that manifested itself as a slight trembling in her words. “She gave your worthless flank a home. And you iced her for it.

“Now you’re going to tell me why.”

With every line the donkey spoke, I felt like I received a fresh buck to my gut. Fresh tears that I had believed thoroughly dried out welled up behind my clamped down lids, sneaking their way onto my cheeks as I pictured Hash greeting me with her warm smile when I’d get back to the apartment. It was a sight I knew I’d never get to see again. A sob racked my body. “...It was an accident.” The words were barely more than a choked whisper.

Jenny canted her head, her face still wearing the scowl. “What was that? Speak up! Why’d you kill my friend?!”

“I fucked up!” I screamed, startling myself almost as much as the other creatures in the apartment. My eyes were wide open now, tears streaming freely down the sides of my face as sobs distorted my words. “She told me to stay down and I didn’t! I was in the way and so she―” I was forced to swallow back the lump which suddenly filled my throat as I pictured the anguished look on the pegasus mare’s face when she realized she wasn’t willing to take the shot with her revolver, for fear of hitting me by accident. “I blocked her shot,” I said with a ragged breath.

With that breath came a great release, as though all my will to do, well, anything left my body with it. I let my head lay back on the floor, my eyes stared up at some arbitrary spot on the ceiling as they unfocused and I saw the end of the fight playing out in slow motion in my mind. Hash’s hesitation. The hippogriff shouldering her rifle, oblivious to my presence. The sight of the pistol laying at my hooves…

…The barrel swaying in my magic as I squeezed the trigger.

Hash collapsing on the sidewalk with a hole in her neck. A hole that I’d placed there.

“...It was an accident,” I repeated. “I tried to save her.” I wasn’t sure if I was referring to the attempt to shoot the hippogriff or calling for help while Hash lay bleeding. It hardly mattered, I supposed. I closed my eyes and waited to receive my justly-earned leaded judgment from the donkey.

“Jenny.” The griffon’s voice pierced the silence that had fallen over the room. No other words were spoken.

Several agonizing seconds later, I heard the donkey curse under her breath. “Fuck you, Gerry.” The barrel was removed from the side of my head and slipped back into a holster on her flank. Jenny Silverhoof all but snarled as she stepped off from over me, stomping with clear frustration over to the apartment’s window, joining the gold and alabaster griffon who was already there, staring out into the lit cityscape beyond. The other three members of the band similarly backed away from me, meandering over to the couch and taking sullen seats away from the pair.

“She wouldn’t have wanted that anyway.” The griffon said in a consoling tone.

“She’s dead,” Jenny all but spat. “Who gives a fuck what she’d have wanted?”

“You,” the griffon quipped with a tiny mote of levity. The donkey propped up next to him sighed, shaking her head as her arcanetic hoof tapped irritably on the window sill. “Me. I care.” He glanced over his shoulder towards the other members of their group seated nearby. “Any of you care? Show of limbs.”

The griffon didn’t actually wait to see the three forelimbs rise up into the air before turning his attention back to the jenny beside him. “Besides, regardless of who pulled the trigger, you know who’s ultimately to blame.”

“Grinder.” Jenny growled out the name like it was an epithet in its own right.

I felt my ears perk up at the mention of the earth pony. They knew about his involvement? That fresh question quickly took a backseat as my brain―no longer being held back by thoughts about my impending execution―was finally able to catch up on the last few minutes, and even put together other pieces of information that I’d learned several hours earlier.

“You’re friends of Hash?” I blurted from where I was still laying on my back on the floor where Jenny had placed me. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized it was a bit of an obvious observation. In my defense, there was still a lot for me to work through to catch myself up. “You’re that band from last night, right? H-something. Hassle?”

“Hussar!” The purple unicorn stallion sitting over on the couch corrected me with a fair amount of annoyance in his trottingham-heavy accent. I glanced over and saw him scanning the walls of the apartment before leaning over to the hippogriff next to him. “Is it okay to be a li’le offended that Hash ain’t got a single one of our posters up? I know I gave her one of my signed headshots―”

“Zip it, Dandy,” Silverhoof snapped.

“Zippin’ it!” The unicorn shifted a little lower on the couch, exchanging glances with his two nearby companions and muttering much more quietly to them in a tone too soft for me to hear.

The donkey glanced over her shoulder now at me, her sapphire eyes still glaring daggers into me, prompting me to swallow back a nervous lump in my throat. While it was a pretty safe bet that neither she nor any of the other members of the band were going to kill me, it was clear to me that I wasn’t exactly her favorite pony in the city either. She seemed to be debating something with herself and was silent for several long seconds before finally reaching a conclusion about what she was going to do; which was apparently to ignore me and turn back to continue her conversation with the griffon next to her.

“We should have moved on him faster,” Jenny grumbled with a resigned sigh.

“It was never about him, not really; or any of the other smallfry,” the tiercel reminded her, earning an acknowledging nod from the donkey, if a bit reluctantly. “It was always about Elysium Properties, and we weren’t ready to do anything about them yet.”

My ears perked again. I was surprised to hear the name of the corporation that owned my building come up in a conversation about Hash and Grinder. Well, ‘owned’ wasn’t entirely accurate, I supposed. Technically the Light City Municipal Council ‘owned’ the megasilo my apartment was located in. In fact, the city owned every one of the dozen or so megasilos which played host to the apartments that many of the less affluent denizens resided in. However, the city wasn’t about to play landlord for the better part of a hundred thousand creatures, so they contracted out the upkeep of the buildings to a property management company. Specifically: Elysium Property Management Services, LLC.

Elysium was responsible for ensuring that any installed appliances in the apartments were repaired―hypothetically in a timely manner, though their definition of ‘timely’ seemed to be rather broad―that trash was collected, and that utilities and rent were paid up on time by all the tenants. Basically, while the city owned the building, Elysium was who got all of our money.

As I understood it, a lot of that money was supposed to make its way back to the city, since it was their building, but Elysium got to keep a cut. That was how Hash had explained it to me once. What she hadn’t explained to me is what connection Elysium had with the leader of my former boosterherd. It wasn’t like Grinder dabbled in investment properties…

Jenny’s arcanetic hoof slammed against the window, barely leaving a scratch on the reinforced crystal laminate, and wheeled on the griffon. “And when exactly will we be ready to move on them, huh? We know what they’re doing, and we know where their corporate office is.”

“But we don’t have the security protocols,” the tiercel pointed out. “Without those, we’re not going to make it very far once we’re inside the building. If we even manage to get that far.” The griffon let out a resigned sigh of his own now. “Hash said she was going to get them tonight and meet us after our set. Obviously that…didn’t work out,” he said softly, doing his best not to make it obvious that he was eying me while he said that last part.

Great. Not only had I managed to get my best friend killed tonight, apparently I’d also distracted her from some very important work that she was engaged in with her favorite band. I really was just finding all kinds of ways to ruin the lives of everycreature around me, wasn’t I? Even creatures I didn’t know. Who else had I managed to fuck over just by existing?

“So then we get the protocols ourselves,” Jenny insisted, her tail flicking in the direction of the occupied couch. “Harriet can grab them.”

The hippogriff mare’s ears perked up at the mention of her name even as the edges of her mouth beyond her beak pulled themselves into a frown. “While I find your faith in me inspiring, boss, I’m nowhere near good enough to crack ICE like the kind Elysium is rocking from the outside. Once we’re already in I can fuck with their network plenty, but Hash was our ticket past their main wards.

“We’ll need to find another nettrotter on her level if we want to stick to the original plan.”

Jenny seemed to find the revelation less than thrilling. “Oh, well then; Gerry? Would you do me a favor and reach under my tail and pull out the backup preem trotter I just happen to have shoved up my ass?”

“She’s def got something up ‘er ass…” I wasn’t sure who on the couch had made the whispered remark, but it seemed to have been spoken quietly enough that the donkey didn’t hear it.

“Easy, Jenny,” the tiercel said. He rested a set of talons on her shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. For her part, the donkey seemed to accept the gesture and let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head in resignation.

“We were this close, Gerr,” she muttered. “Tonight was going to be the night. Hash was going to sneak into Grinder’s place, snatch his access runes, and pass them to us. That was going to be our way around Elysium’s wards.”

I blinked in shocked surprise as Grinder’s name was dropped into the conversation once more. As well as the mention of breaking into his apartment. I couldn’t begin to understand what the leader of my former herd and the company managing my megasilo had to do with one another though. However, it was clear that these creatures believed there was an important link that existed between them. It also seemed like they weren’t entirely aware of how Hash Stack had spent her last few hours yesterday. I supposed that made sense. She’d left the concert before the band had finished playing, and then died not long after trying to save me.

They didn’t know that she had broken into his apartment last night. I’d been under the impression that it had all been for a simple robbery. But maybe gibbies weren’t the only thing that the pegasus mare had managed to snatch from Grinder’s terminal that night…

“Now the plan’s shot to shit and we don’t―”

“Hash and I broke into Grinder’s place.” I blurted, finally finding the will to intrude into their conversation even as I slowly rolled back onto my hooves.

Everycreature’s eyes were focused on me once more, though with significantly less murderous intent. Which felt like a substantial improvement of my situation. The attention was enough to keep me from rising the rest of the way off the floor though, so I simply remained on my belly. Of all their gazes, Jenny’s was the most intense―and also not quite as devoid of violent inclinations as the rest. “...Say that again?”

I swallowed, feeling myself wilt slightly beneath the piercing glare of those sapphire eyes. “L-last night,” I inwardly winced as a stutter infected my words. Jenny was quite the intimidating figure. “Hash took me on a job she had,” I continued to explain even as the donkey began to slowly approach me, regarding me as if she was still deciding whether or not I was worth allowing to live. “I thought she was robbing some random donk. Learned later it was Grinder’s place.

“She hacked a terminal in his apartment. Did it with a deep dive. Big cable, ice bath, the works. She didn’t say anything about you guys or Elysium or anything,” I admitted with a slight grimace, acknowledging that everything I was telling them might be entirely worthless information for their purposes. Still though, if they were friend’s of Hash, they should know what she’d been up to if it was something that might have been on their behalf. “She definitely took a lot of money though. At least twenty thousand gibbies.”

“Hash wouldn’t need to ice up for a simple money grab.” The hippogriff mare said, a meaningful lilt in her words as she cast an aside glance at their band’s lead vocalist. “If that filly’s telling the truth…”

Jenny glanced briefly over at the jade-feathered pseudo-equine before returning her gaze to me. She seemed to be deciding whether or not I was delivering honest information, or if I was just feeding them something they wanted to hear in an attempt to ingratiate myself to them. I could understand her hesitancy. She didn’t know me from Celestia, and had only minutes ago been holding a gun to my head because she thought I murdered her friend. I wouldn’t trust me either if I were in her position.

Before she could come to any sort of decision though, the door to the apartment suddenly slid open. Every eye in the room turned and locked onto the door, and the pair of ponies who were standing there wearing confused expressions on their faces. I felt my throat tighten as I recognized them as being members of my former herd. There was no doubt in my mind that they’d come here to kill me. However, it seemed that the pair of ponies had not anticipated my place being nearly this crowded when they arrived.

I’d recall later that I gasped in alarm and recoiled away from the door, very nearly huddling beneath the donkey who’d been looming over me earlier. As intimidating as I found her, I knew that she had elected not to end my life. Grinder’s lackeys, on the other hoof, were probably not going to be quite as merciful. I watched as the confusion on the newcomers’ faces at finding a crowd of creatures in the tiny apartment finally gave way to action and weapons began to rise, held aloft within glowing fields of telekinetic magic from their implanted talismans.

Silverhoof was quicker though.

In a singular, fluid motion, the donkey’s right hoof snapped back to her hip and slipped through the grip well of the pistol in her holster. Her limb then flicked out ahead of her, lining up with the chest of the earth pony mare standing on the right side of the doorway. Two twitches of her fetlock set off twin cracks of thunder in my ears. I watched as the mare’s chest exploded beneath the impacts, pitching her lifeless corpse back out into the hallway beyond and crumpling against the far wall. I was barely aware of several scattered cries of shock and surprise from bystanders outside.

The second boosterherd member didn’t fare any better, though they weren’t put down by Jenny. A thrum of sound and flash of brilliant ruby light forced me to wince away. When I looked back, I saw that the unicorn stallion was still standing there, but approximately a third of his head was missing. It was as though something had reached out and simply carved half of their skull out of their head, like running your hoof through soft clay. The portion of the pony’s face which still remained was locked in an expression of shock. Their shotgun clattered to the ground, now that the talisman which had been levitating it no longer existed. His body dropped a heartbeat later.

My eyes were torn from the grizzly sight by movement nearby. Specifically, the diamond dog who was retracting her outstretched arm. The arcanetic limb’s covering was in the process of closing back up around something that I couldn’t identify. Nor was I given an opportunity to ask about what she’d just employed as Jenny shook me off of her hoof.

“We’ll continue discussing this somewhere else,” the donkey announced as she holstered his pistol, not seeming the least bit fazed by the sudden intrusion and ensuing violence. It was like this sort of thing wasn’t the least bit out of the ordinary for her. Or any of the others for that matter.

What kind of rock band was this?!

“Gerry, grab the filly. Barkly, take point.”

The diamond dog grunted an acknowledgement and stepped over to the doorway which was still being propped open by the mostly-headless corpse of the unicorn stallion. She leaned out and peaked down both ways of the corridor beyond. She lifted a paw and motioned for the others to follow.

It was around now that I noticed a set of talons had been firmly―but gently―urging me to rise up onto my hooves. I glanced up to see the griffon standing nearby, a reassuring expression on his face. His emerald eyes betrayed no hint of malice in them. He was here to help me. Still shaken by the recent display of sudden violence, my legs weren’t as stolid as I might have hoped that they’d be, visibly wobbling, but they supported my weight. “You’re safe; don’t worry.”

An odd thing to hear from a creature whom I knew full well had come to this apartment in the first place to execute me because he’d believed―albeitly technically truthfully―that I’d killed a good friend of his. Apparently we’d moved past that now and I was considerably more valuable to them alive. This was, uh…this was going to be an interesting day…

A short while later, I found myself once more sitting upon the plush velvet cushions of the ‘green room’ at the not-so-dilapidated building where the band had been performing last night. Daisy was finishing up delivering everycreature their drinks―I’d opted for just water this time―and was out the door before the band decided that it was time to finally get down to business. Said ‘business’ consisted of extracting everything I knew about what Hash got up to yesterday. I did my absolute best to answer their questions, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be nearly as helpful as they hoped.

The fact was that Hash had kept a lot of the details from me and what little I did know, I didn’t have the foundation of knowledge to fully understand the implications of. I was only now realizing that the reason for that had probably been as much about keeping her affiliation with the band and their clandestine activities a secret from me as it had been about making sure I wouldn’t back out at the first mention of Grinder’s name. I still didn’t know what the crimson stallion had to do with Elysium, but I also figured I wasn’t in any position to ask for details either. I wasn’t part of their group and the moment they were done with me, I was sure I’d be out on my flank on my own again.

“How long was she in their system?” The hippogriff mare asked me.

I shrugged, “I don’t know exactly. Less than thirty minutes, I think. I wasn’t watching the time,” I admitted. “I kind of got distracted when Grinder’s marefriend or whoever showed up in the middle of it. She didn’t notice anything though. At least, I don’t think she did. She didn’t react.”

Jenny was rolling her eyes at my mumbled ramblings and glanced over at her backup nettrotter. “Would that be long enough to get the runes and skim his account?”

“Skimming the gibbies probably took her less than a minute,” the light blue mare said with a dismissive wave of her talons. “That would have been an afterthought on her way out of the system. As for snagging bypass runes?” This time the hippogriff mulled the prospect over in her head for a bit, idly waving her hand in the air. “...Yeah? If she didn’t feel like being gentle about it she could grift ‘em that fast.”

“Grinder knew we’d robbed him,” I offered again, not sure if what I was saying was helpful. “He put a curse on me that lets him track where I’ve been, but I doubt he’s got an eye on me twenty-four-seven just for shits. Something had to have tipped him off and make him check who’d been around his place. Like I said though: the unicorn mare didn’t notice us, I don’t think. Maybe Hash triggered some kind of alarm thing while she was in?”

“Hash isn’t that sloppy,” the hippogriff countered with a firm shake of her head. “Even being reckless, she wouldn’t leave her imprint on anything…” the mare’s words trailed off, as though she were lost in thought. Then she cursed under her breath, earning expectant looks from the others. “The gibbies.

“Hash can hide her trace, but she can’t hide that gryphusbits aren’t in the account they’re supposed to be in anymore,” she elaborated. “If some number-muncher at Elysium noticed, then they would have pretty easily identified Grinder’s access runes being used to make the transfer. No doubt they’d want to hear from him why gibbies are suddenly flowing the wrong way.”

“I thought you said Hash wasn’t sloppy?” The griffon, Gerry, said.

“Normally that wouldn’t be ‘sloppy’,” the hippogriff countered with a shrug. “The whole point of using Grinder’s terminal is that the transfer would have had his hoofrprints all over it. He could tell Elysium that he didn’t access their systems and take their money, but there’d be no way he could explain away his runes being used to initiate the transfer. It’d be his word against the system logs.”

“‘Two-bit boosterherder rips off client’ would hardly be a newsworthy revelation,” the purple unicorn stallion piped up. “Wouldn’t even make the lower-third crawl on a slow news day.”

“He’d have no way to prove anypony else was there to do the transfer,” the hippogriff nodded before sighing and gesturing at my hooves. “Normally.

“Elysium would have been too busy looking at their scumbag rent-collector while we raided them for what we needed.”

I found myself slumping into my seat and sulking once more as it was further reaffirmed that Hash was only dead because of me. The only reason that she’d taken the money from Grinder was so that she could give it to me, and the only reason that she’d had me along in the first place was so that she could hide her charity behind the thin veneer of ‘paid work’ because I was too much of a prideful little shit to accept help from a friend. If not for my involvement, Hash would have gone in there on her own, gotten exactly what she was these guys needed for their mission, and gotten out without Grinder being any the wiser.

But, because I was a loser and a coward, the pegasus had tried to help me out of a tight spot. And now she was dead because of it. I wiped at my eye and tried to hide the sniffle from the others, but it didn’t seem to work. I jerked with surprise as the cushion depressed with the weight of somepony sliding in beside me, a hoof slipping comfortingly over my shoulders. My nostrils tickled at the not-so-subtle aroma of a potent cologne wafting around me.

“There there, love,” the purple unicorn stallion murmured in my ear as he pulled me close to his side. “Dry your tears; Dandy-boy’s got you―”

A forceful clearing of a nearby throat drew both mine and the stallion’s attention to the tiercel sitting across from us. The griffon was glaring daggers into the unicorn beside me. I felt the hoof snaked around my shoulders tighten in a defiant squeeze. “What? Can’t you see this li’le bird’s in pain? I’m just le’in’er know iffin she needs a shoulder to cry on, mine’s always available!” The griffon’s aside glance at a mostly disinterested Silverhoof suggested that the tiercel concerns weren’t assuaged. “Also…if she needs a bed to crash on, mine’s big enough to―”

“Nip it, Dandy,” Jenny finally growled, earning a satisfied nod from the griffon next to her.

“...Nippin’ it,” the stallion relented with a resigned groan, rising off the cushion next to me and returning to where he’d previously been sitting next to the diamond dog. The much larger canine’s lips were spread in a wide grin as she watched the lavender unicorn reseat himself at her side with what seemed like an exaggerated pout.

“Okay,” The donkey said, clearly intent on refocusing the discussion, “so Hash probably snagged the access runes to get us into Elysium’s corporate network. She didn’t drop them off here, although it’s clear she meant to.” I couldn’t meet the glare that she flashed my way. Fortunately, it was not a look that lingered long before she turned her full attention back to the rest of her bandmates. “So, unless Hash dead-dropped them somewhere else…” She let the caveat linger for a moment as she surveyed the faces of the others for their opinions. When it was clear that the other members of the group doubted this was the case either, she continued, “...Then those runes have got to still be with her body.”

“A body that was conspicuously missing from Angelo’s Diner,” Gerry sighed.

“Hash was full of preem arcanetics,” Harriet pointed out. “Grinder’d make some fast gibbies scrapping her for tech.”

“It’s more likely that Elysium wants her so they can confirm if their network’s still secure or not,” Jenny countered. “Either way, we need to get her back, and fast.”

“Something tells me that you don’t intend to knock on the front door and ask politely,” Gerry said with a lopsided smirk at the jenny.

“More like: kick in their front door and knock a few heads around,” the donkey retorted, smacking the pistol holstered on her flank.

“As much fun as ‘storming the castle’ sounds, I’d like to suggest a course of action that won’t get us all zeroed.”

“Grinder’s goons are all chumps!” Silverhoof quipped with a derisive snort, leaving little doubt as to how she felt about the quality of the boosterherd’s members.

“But there's a lotta ‘em,” the diamond dog, Barkly, said in a register that was so low that it felt like it was teetering on the limit of organic hearing ranges. “Incluso idiotas son peligrosos si hay muchos.”

“Barkly’s right; we can’t go in all hot and bothered,” the unicorn stallion spoke up. “I fancy livin’ long enough to break this story, you know?”

Gerry lay a talon on Jenny’s shoulder, gaining the donkey’s attention. “If we knew the layout of the place, exactly where Hash’s body was being kept, and where his goons were, it would be a different story. We’d be able to hit them by surprise and with a tactical advantage. As things stand…” He shook his head.

Jenny looked like she wanted to argue with the griffon just on principle. However, in the end she appeared to accept what he’d said and started to nod her head. Then her eyes landed on me again and she paused, her expression creased with thought.

“...What if we had a mole on the inside?”

At Gerry’s questioning glance, she elaborated, gesturing at me as she did so. “We send her in. Harriet can hex her talismans so they let us scout the place from within. See through her eyes; ping with her personal network. We’ll have the layout of the place and a headcount within minutes. Using that intel, we can storm the place at their weak points. Maybe even get lucky and just need to do a smash-and-grab if Hash’s body is alone.”

“Assuming they don’t just off her the moment they see her at the door…yeah, that could work,” the hippogriff mare agreed.

“Eh, Grinder’s a sick fuck; he’ll want her alive when he’s ripper out her talismans,” Jenny said with a dismissive wave of her hoof in my direction. “Her screams might even mask our approach.”

Ice cold fear gripped my heart again, threatening to stop it from beating any longer with the weight of its dread alone. These creatures were genuinely weighing the merits of serving me up to Grinder so that I could be butchered in order to serve as a distraction for their mission to recover Hash’s body and the access runes likely contained within it. They were doing so with almost casual abandon too, as though my life had absolutely no more value to them than a piece of cheese being used to bait a mousetrap. I felt my hooves starting to tremble again as I listened to the details of my fate being worked out among the bandmates.

Why was it that every time I caught sight of even the faintest glimmer of hope, fate saw fit to snatch it from my grasp at the last minute and once more send me swinging over a pit of despair? First, Hash sent me the gibbies I needed to soothe Grinder’s ire; then it turned out they were Grinder’s gibbies and he knew I’d been involved in their theft. Then Hash came to save me; only for her to die in the attempt. Then Silverhoof and her band rescued me from more of Grinder’s goons at my apartment…

…Only to now consider trussing me up and passing me right into his clutches in order to get them what they really wanted.

Maybe that was actually right and proper, I supposed. This whole mess wouldn’t even exist if not for me. If Hash hadn’t been distracted by my need for help, she’d have gotten Jenny Silverhoof and her group exactly what they wanted without Grinder being any the wiser. Meanwhile, I’d probably already be getting dragged back to the warehouse as we spoke in order to suffer the punishment for flaking out on getting the stallion his gibbies. Looking at it that way, these creatures weren’t ‘sacrificing’ me. They were restoring balance and putting the world back onto its proper track.

Everything would go back to being how it would have if I’d never existed. Just as it should be.

“...I’ll do it.”

A hush descended over the deliberating band members as they all turned to face me. Jenny narrowed her sapphire eyes at me. “What was that?”

“I said: ‘I’ll do it’; I’ll go to the warehouse so you can get what you need to do right by Hash Stack.” My voice didn’t waver nearly as much as I thought it would as I sealed my own fate. I doubted that it was a sign of bravery or anything though. Bravery probably didn’t make you feel numb inside.

The donkey was silent for several seconds and then snorted. “I don’t recall giving you an option, but alright.” She looked over at Harriet. “Hex the filly. We need to move fast on this.”

The hippogriff nodded and slipped off the chaise lounge that she’d been reclining on. She strode past me, gesturing for me to follow her out of the room. I swallowed back the lump of fear in my throat and followed her out with a stilted gait brought about by a numbness in my hooves. I already felt like I was marching towards my own death, and I wasn’t even at the warehouse yet.

She made a motion for me to stop when we got into the corridor outside. The building was a lot quieter without the cheering crowds. Only a few creatures still lingered. It was hard for me to determine whether they were ‘staff’ or just groupies who didn’t feel like stumbling their way home quite yet. “Turn your head,” Harriet said, motioning to my left.

I did as I was told and looked to the side, presenting the ports recessed in my neck to the nettrotter. I heard her extract her link cable from her forelimb and winced as I felt pressure and a slight pinch just behind my jaw. “First things first…” The mare murmured under her breath as she got to work. I saw notifications warning me that my personal network was being intruded upon by an outside entity. Too much information was flickering in front of me to properly comprehend, but I did catch one alert which flashed in front of my eyes in glowing golden letters:

CUT13M4P.HEX DISPELLED

“Pfft, fucking runekitty garbage,” the mare snorted derisively as she continued to work. “I hate seeing programers who don’t take pride in their work.” A moment later I was presented with a similar alert, but this time in brilliant scarlet lettering, accompanied by an appropriately foreboding auditory chime:

WARNING! UNLICENSED CHARM DETECTED: ALLYOURBASE.HEX

PLEASE CALL FF.INC SUPPORT FOR ASSISTANCE! NOW ONLY $10GB/MIN!

A few additional lines of information flickered by afterward, but these too were too fast for me to fully process. There’d been mention of “superuser accounts” and “permissions”, but the prompts were closed out before I could glean any details. Then, without warning the illusions blinked out completely, only to reassert themselves a heartbeat later in accordance with a fresh casting. The hippogriff’s silver eyes shimmered briefly. “Good feed…we’re all set.” She disengaged her link from the port on my neck and took a step back. I gently massaged the access port to soothe the irritation I was feeling. The excessive magic at play had caused a slight burning sensation, but it was fading away quickly.

Harriet waved her hand in front of the panel beside the door leading back into the green room and it obediently slid open. “The filly’s runed up. Ready to go when you are, Jenny.”

I heard movement from within as the other four members of the band rose out of their seats and made their way out. “Good. Let’s head out,” the donkey said, barely even acknowledging my presence as she brushed past me. We didn’t head to the exit immediately, instead swinging by another secured room on our way out. This turned out to be an armory of some sort. At least, that was the best way I had to describe a repurposed janitor’s closet whose walls were packed from floor to ceiling with guns.

Jenny herself didn’t pick out anything, appearing to be perfectly satisfied with the chrome-finished pistol holstered on her flank. The others, however, all grabbed a pistol and at least one other firearm. Except for Barkly, who slung no fewer than four weapons on her body, in addition to the pistol tucked behind her back and the artillery piece masquerading as a ‘shotgun’ that she held in her paws.

Seriously, what kind of ‘rock band’ was this anyway?!

Jenny bucked me none-to-gently on my hind end, putting an end to my gawking as I stumbled forward until I caught my balance again. “Move it.”

I glared briefly at the donkey, but I wasn’t able to hold the look for long when confronted with her own potent stare. Her demeanor left little doubt that she was indeed a jenny you didn’t fuck with. The expression she cultivated would probably have made Grinder pause if he was confronted with her face-to-face. She sure wasn’t going to be intimidated by the likes of me. So I bit back any smart remark that I might have been tempted to utter and just headed for the same rear entrance I’d used last night.

There weren’t any lookouts this time, I noticed as we left the building and turned down the road. Jenny took the lead, with the griffon walking at her side. They were talking about something, but I couldn’t make it out from here. Behind me, I saw the diamond dog and hippogriff watching over the group’s rear. That purple unicorn stallion was walking beside me.

“Don’t take it personal,” he whispered in my ear.

I glanced over at him. “What?”

“Jenny,” Dandy clarified, “how she’s bein’ right now. It’s nothin’ personal. Hash was a nova mare. We all loved her. Her death…” the stallion’s features clouded briefly before he sighed and did his best to reattach a smile to his face again. “It hit us hard, y’know?

“We’re gonna do right by her though,” he assured me, “and we ain’t gonna leave your flank hangin’ in the breeze neither. I can promise you that!” He reached out and drew me in briefly to his side with a hoof for a quick hug…that wasn’t quite so ‘quick’. His cologne started to tickle my nose again and I shrugged him off me, eying the vest he was wearing―and its cluster of cutie mark patches―with a slightly wary expression.

“...I appreciate that, I guess.” I didn’t believe him, of course; and not just because he struck me as a rake who would tell any mare nice things on the off chance he’d get to add a new conquest to his collection. Frankly, I felt like any of them would tell me whatever they thought it would take to make sure I didn’t back out of this at the last moment. So far they hadn’t resorted to coercive threats, but I highly doubted those were completely off the table as a means to get me to cooperate if I balked at any point.

I was responsible for the death of their close friend. It didn’t get much more ‘personal’ than that, did it? At least Jenny was doing me the courtesy of wearing her disdain for me on her sleeve, and not hiding it in order to manipulate the ‘scared little filly’ into doing what they needed me to.

Not that I needed them to. I meant what I’d said in there: I was going to help. I fucked up Hash’s plan and got her killed. Fixing it was the least I could do for her, even if it did get me killed. And if my death helped to take down Grinder in the process, all the better.

The rest of the group lingered just out of sight when the warehouse finally came into view in the predawn light. I continued on, of course. Jenny’s parting instructions echoed over and over again in my head: Get into the warehouse as deep as I could. Get eyes on everything, and everycreature, that I could. Try not to die too quickly.

That last instruction had been…well, let’s just say it was less than encouraging.

I shook the thought from my head and let out a long, ragged, breath. It didn’t really do all that much to settle my nerves, which proceeded to ratchet up to even higher levels of anxiety when the lookout at the warehouse’s main entrance finally noticed me. The rifle floating in the grip of their telekinesis leveled at me, prompting me to freeze in my tracks. I briefly wondered if I was going to die before even managing to get through the door.

It seemed that was not to be the method of my execution, however. As much of a mixed blessing as that might be. I saw the unicorn mare on lookout move her lips as she spoke to somepony else via clairaudience. More than likely Grinder. She received an answer and lowered her weapon, motioning for me to continue. I saw the look of bewilderment on her face as I passed her. Like she was trying to understand what could possibly have possessed me to actually come here, having to know full well that there was no way in Luna’s starry sky that I would be leaving again.

In accordance with my instructions, I started looking around as soon as I stepped through the door. It probably didn’t even look all that suspicious, honestly. Now when I started hearing the raucous laughter and jeers being projected in my direction. “Dead mare walking!” “They’re gonna eat well in Santo Dingo tonight!” “Dibs on her legs; I could use an upgrade!” “Do we have to kill her right away, or can we hex her into being a joy-toy for a few days first?”

As I glanced around, I noticed a tiny little box appear in the upper left corner of my vision and then start to scroll with lines of incomprehensible text. A few seconds later, I saw everycreature within view take on a soft crimson glow. In fact, I could see the glowing silhouettes of creatures that weren’t within line of sight, as they lounged and chatted on the far sides of crates and containers. My eyes lingered on some of the silhouettes in confusion for a brief moment, until I realized that I was likely experiencing some sort of spell or cantrip that Harriet was casting through my implanted talisman as a result of the curse she’d infected me with.

It was working. I was getting Jenny and the others what they’d need.

I’d almost lost my nerve by the time I rounded the final shipping container and found myself looking into the grinning face of a familiar earth pony stallion. I froze in my tracks. It wasn’t the sight of the sadistic glint in Grinder’s golden eyes that drew me up short though. No. My attention wasn’t even on the boosterherd leader anymore. Instead, my gaze was locked onto the body behind him.

Even as I stared at it, I noticed more of Harriet’s handiwork at play. A cantrip was cast through me which appeared to evaluate the body of the suspended pegasus. Not that I needed a scrying spell to tell me what was plain to see: It was Hash Stack. I didn’t even notice the flicker of an alert mentioning the presence of a storage crystal still plugged into one of her shard slots before my vision was obscured by threatening tears.

My legs started to tremble once again. It wasn’t fear this time though.

It was rage.

He had Hash strung up like a side of beef, a hook pierced through one of her hind cannons. Her torso was perforated with several dozen more holes than there had been when I’d left her earlier that night, making it look like somecreature had been using her for target practice, just for the sake of mutilating her body. Movement nearby drew my gaze from the abused carcass, landing on the familiar automatic pistol I’d snagged from Grinder’s apartment. It had been reunited with its owner, and was now floating near the stallion. As I watched, the weapon turned and fired another shot blindly into Hash’s lifeless body. A fresh hole was blown through my friend, setting her body slowly spinning on its hook as it started to sway.

“No wonder you sent a couple of these donks to my place to kill me; you’re not mare enough to shoot live targets.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

I’ll never know what possessed me to antagonize Grinder like that. I wasn’t even aware that I was talking until the words were already out of my mouth and the stallion’s expression shifted from a look of satisfaction to a baleful glare of unbridled fury. What was perhaps more surprising to me was that I managed to not flinch away as the ruby red earth pony descended upon me. I did flinch when the barrel of his gun was shoved under my chin though, forcing my head up until I was looking him dead in the eyes. I wasn’t going to give this piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing me cower though. Not anymore.

He could do whatever he wanted to me. I’d made my bed with this stallion already. Not Hash though. He didn’t get to desecrate her like that. Not while I still drew breath. I’d already failed her too many times tonight, by giving up her name, by bringing her into that trap, and by blocking her shot. It was my fault she was dead in so many ways. I’d never be able to make up for that, but I was also through with failing her―even if it was too little too late.

I just didn’t care anymore. The fear was gone, burned away by my indignant hatred for what Grinder was doing to my friend’s body. I was a dead pony no matter what. Grinder couldn’t hold his threats over me anymore. Plus, knowing that Jenny and the rest of the Hussars were waiting just around the corner to finally end this stallion’s miserable life filled me with a sense of calm. Grinder was going to get his, and I would have a hoof in it. I might be dead in the next thirty seconds and not get to actually see him finally bite it, but I’d still have the last laugh, in my own way.

“What did you say to me, cunt?” Grinder’s feted breath wafted over me from between his clenched teeth, his snarled words implying that there was a ‘correct’ answer to his question.

Me, being the uneducated little filly that I was, didn’t have any problem giving him the ‘wrong’ one. “I said: you’re not mare enough to kill anymore. You don’t have the balls for it.” The stallion’s eyes widened in shocked surprise when I didn’t cower like I was supposed to. He also didn’t blow my brains out right away, so I continued. “Did they fall out of your rancid little sack all on their own, or did your skanky input over there suck ‘em out of ya?” I jerked my head in the direction of the unicorn mare from his apartment, who was also looking a little taken aback by my sudden growth of a spine.

“Twice tonight you’ve wanted mares dead, but you didn’t go yourself,” I pointed out, forcing an increase in volume into my words so that other members of the herd could hear my scathing indictment of our leader. “Meanwhile, everycreature you sent out tonight got zeroed. I think you didn’t go yourself because you knew that, if you did, you’d just get flatlined too.

“I helped frag eight of these donks.” That was a blatant lie, of course. I’d only gotten the one hippogriff. However, there was no way that Grinder could know any different. He might not know what happened at Hash’s apartment, but he had to realize that the pair he’d sent there had clearly failed to kill me and were almost certainly dead themselves. “Now ask yourself why I came down here tonight, if not to finish the job?”

It was brief―little more than a flicker that lasted for barely a heartbeat―but I had the satisfaction of seeing fear in that stallion’s beady yellow eyes. Every word I’d said might have been so much vaporware, but Grinder couldn’t know that. Not really. He’d seen the results of Hash’s handiwork though, and I was still standing in spite of the team he’d sent to gank me in my sleep. For just a moment, he’d wondered if perhaps he hadn’t actually managed to underestimate me after all this time. Just for a moment…and then it was gone; but that was enough for me. I’d managed to actually intimidate Grinder, of all ponies. Me!

That seemed like a pretty good note to go out on.

Grinder’s hit sent me rolling across the floor. The right side of my face felt like it was on fire. I groaned and started to roll over and get back up onto my hooves, but then another hoof connected hard against my gut. I couldn’t contain the cry of pain as I curled in around my belly protectively, coughing and sputtering as my diaphragm spasmed. Another pained cry escaped my lips as I felt a hoof come down on my hip like a pneumatic piston. I felt something shift beneath my flesh, sending waves of nausea through my body along with the pain. Something pretty substantial was broken down there, I wagered.

“How’s this for ‘mare enough’, huh?!” Grinder shouted at the top of his lungs as his hooves continued to pummel my body. My limbs tried feebly to deflect the blows, but it was a futile effort. I wasn’t actually any kind of fighter, and not all of my legs were working properly anymore. “Not going to be talking so tough without any teeth, you little fucking bitch!”

A hoof came down on my jaw this time, and again I felt something give way. The pain was so intense that the fiery sensation in my muzzle actually looped right back around to feeling numb. It was at least dislocated, but more than likely broken entirely.

Mercifully, the beating paused shortly after that hit, leaving me free to moan and stiffly writhe on the warehouse floor in agony. I forced my eyes open so that I could glare up at the earth pony one more time before the end came. I wanted to burn the image of him into my mind, knowing that he’d be following close behind me when the others got through with him.

Grinder snorted as he leered over me, his lips curled up into a satisfied smirk. He had me where he liked to see me: whimpering in pain at his hooves. Fine. He’d get to enjoy this moment, but only because he was ignorant of what was coming for him. That thought managed to get an amused little chortle of my own out through my shattered muzzle and bloodied lips. The sight of me laughing, even as feebly as I was, in spite of what he’d done to me, wiped that smug look right off the stallion’s face.

He bent down, bringing his face up close to mine. I caught sight of the gaggle of other assorted creatures who were gathering around us; an audience coming in to watch the climax of the night’s entertainment. As my eyes lingered on them though, I noticed that the soft ruby haze covering a few of them began to refine into a yellow color…and then a blue one. The word ‘LOCKED’ appeared above the heads of those sapphire-silhouetted creatures.

My vision was once more dominated by the crimson stallion’s face. “I’m going to enjoy beating that defiance out of you, Pel. Me and the herd, we’re going to enjoy doing a lot of things to you…” His lip curled up into a predatory sneer. To his credit, that threat did have the desired effect of filling me with dread at the prospect of the implications. He started to chuckle when he saw that he finally got to me.

It was a short-lived thing though, and the sound of his mirth was soon drowned out by the jingle of breaking glass raining down on the warehouse’s concrete floor. Heads turned in all directions, as the unexpected noise had indeed come from all directions. On my illusionary HUD, I saw a couple of icons depicting round objects rolling along the floor. Then my vision went suddenly dark.

For one terrible heartbeat, I believed that I’d died. There was no sound, and I was enveloped by blackness all around me. No matter which way I turned my head, I couldn’t see anything. However, I was still able to feel the cold concrete floor below me, and I was certainly still in a lot of pain, so it was at least possible that I wasn’t actually dead.

Then my sight returned just as suddenly as it had vanished. Though I was sure that it had been gone for only a second or two, I was greeted by a very different vision of the warehouse than I’d been looking at only a moment earlier. Grinder was no longer crouched over me. Instead, he was staggering around, blinking furiously with a hoof over his ear, as were the other creatures that I could see. One diamond dog nearby who had one of the curious ‘LOCKED’ identifiers still floating over his head was vigorously rubbing at his eyes as though they’d been suddenly filled with sand. He’d occasionally blink and look around, but his glowing green eyes were unfocused and didn’t seem to actually register anything.

Not that it seemed to matter for all that much longer, apparently. I gaped in wide-eyed astonishment as a trio of holes burst out of his chest in a spray of blood and bone.

He wasn’t the only one either. One after another, in quick succession, every creature who carried with them the fateful word hovering over their head was struck―seemingly out of nowhere―with exactly three rounds, hitting them in either the chest or the back depending on which way they were facing. Grinder caught sight of the carnage as well, staring in shock as the better part of a dozen members of his herd were cut down from an unknown source.

“Weer unner ‘tack! Gennu Coveh!” The stallion’s words sounded slurred, and I briefly thought it was a problem with my own hearing. However, I soon realized that it was actually Grinder who was having trouble hearing what was going on. He wasn’t alone either, it looked like. Nocreature around him looked like they were acknowledging anything he was saying. Though many of them at least seemed to understand that something was terribly wrong.

My ears were working just fine though, and so I was drawn to the sound of more shattering glass behind me. I glanced up in time to see Gerry and Harriet gliding in to perch atop a high stack of crates. The hippogriff was just finishing up loading a fresh magazine into the underside of a very expensive looking assault rifle. Once she was finished, she leveled the weapon down at the crowd of disoriented boosterherders and started squeezing off bursts of bullets that I swore would arc through the air in order to specifically impact dead center in a creature’s torso. Beside her, the griffon tiercel sat up on his haunches, as he shouldered a submachine gun and sprayed down onto the unwitting creatures below.

I saw off to the side that not every member of the herd was quite as disoriented as their fellows. One pegasus mare seemed to have shaken off whatever was affecting the others relatively quickly and noticed the pair of feathered chimeras slaughtering her comrades. She lifted an automatic weapon of her own and took aim. Neither band member seemed to have noticed her yet. I tried to call out a warning, but what came out of my shattered jaw didn’t come close to what could even charitably be characterized as ‘words’; nor could those pitiful sounds I was making overcome the sound of gunfire erupting by their ears. Changing tacks, I desperately tried to cast a clairaudience cantrip to reach out to Harriet.

However, before I could do so, the pegasus mare was unceremoniously bowled over by a familiar looking heavily armed diamond dog, sending the floating assault rifle clattering to the ground right along with her. She struggled up onto her forelegs, wearing an annoyed scowl that suggested she believed one of her more senseless associates had bumbled into her. She whipped her head around to curse them out, only to find her muzzle nearly touching the business end of a shotgun. The expression of surprise on her face lasted for just a moment, and then it was gone.

And her whole head right along with it.

Barkly walked right over the defaced pegasus corpse without missing a beat, manipulating the pump-action of her weapon and sending out another tightly-pack bundle of pellets into the chest of a batpony who stumbled into her line of fire. The leathery-winged stallion was pitched backwards, collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap of viscera and gore.

My attention was drawn once more to Grinder, as the stunned stallion stumbled around in awe of the carnage being unleashed upon his herd. It was impossible to track every death as it happened, with the assault seeming to come from every angle. I couldn’t see Dandy or Jenny yet, but I knew that I was seeing members of the herd drop dead in conjunction with loud claps of single gunshots, so I suspected that a rifle was perched somewhere that was slowly whittling down their numbers even further.

It was a second later that I deduced that it was the purple unicorn wielding the sniper rifle. Because Jenny Silverhoof was currently strutting in through the front door, methodically making her way through the warehouse on three limbs while her distinctive-looking pistol was clutched in the fourth, leveled straight out ahead of her. Her fetlock twitched and the weapon fired. Grinder screamed out in pain from in front of me as his hind end dropped out from under him, a sputtering stump of metal and gems dragging along the ground where I could have sworn his right hind leg had been only a moment ago.

The earth pony’s cry of pain morphed into a snarl of rage as he wheeled on the approaching donkey, the pistol held in his talisman’s magical grip floated in line beside him, aiming at the jenny. She didn’t flinch away. A second twitch of her hoof cracked off another shot and Grinder’s weapon exploded into a mist of sparks and steel. The stallion cried out once more in shock as he was forced to recoil away from his shattered pistol, the side of his face bleeding from where slivers of shrapnel had embedded themselves. A third shot rang out and he collapsed to the ground as his left foreleg was sheared off at the hoof. Shot after shot thundered through the din of the melee raging around them as Silverhoof’s pistol chipped away at the heavily augmented stallion.

All the while, Jenny never broke her stride. On occasion, she would snap her leg out in the direction of a foolhardy boosterherd member who thought to interject themselves into what had the feeling of a nominally ‘private’ confrontation between her and their leader. A flick of her hoof punished them severely for the affront.

Then she’d take another piece out of Grinder’s hide.

By the time Jenny was standing over the earth pony’s ravaged body, the sounds of gunfire had ceased. Barkly and Harriet scanned the surroundings for signs of any additional survivors, but their posture suggested to me that all they could detect any longer were bodies. Indeed, that felt like all I could see too.

Credit where it was due, even as beaten as he knew he was, Grinder managed to maintain a defiant expression as he glared up at the rockerfilly who was towering over him. Severed limbs twitched and sparked, but would be of no help to him. Silverhoof had him dead to rights, but he didn’t cower. “Do you have any idea who you’re fucking with, bitch? I’ve got powerful friends, and they’re going to make you pay for this, you stupid donk!”

Without taking her eyes off the stallion, Jenny snapped her hoof off to the right and fired off a shot. I gaped as the steel hook which held Hash Stack’s body was shattered by the round her pistol fired. The pegasus mare’s defieled body did not drop far, however. Gerry was already standing beneath her and was able to smoothly collect the falling Hash into his arms. He gently lowered the body the rest of the way to the ground and laid her on the floor, his sad eyes lingering on the face of his departed friend, which was mercifully still mostly unblemished despite the mutilations that Grinder had inflicted on the rest of her corpse.

Silverhoof brought the weapon back in close as she let her haunches sink to the floor. Her arcanetic hoof reached up and slapped the side of the weapon, forcefully ejecting the pistol’s spent magazine, which bounced off the side of Grinder’s face, making the stallion flinch away reflexively. The donkey spun the pistol around nimbly with her organic hoof as she flicked it back to her side. I heard a gentle ‘click’ and then the weapon emerged once more into sight, a fresh cartridge of ammunition loaded in place.

“I know exactly who your ‘friends’ are,” Jenny said dryly, regarding the stallion with the same level of contempt which one would typically show to a smear of shit they found on the bottom of their hoof, “and I’m going to be visiting them really soon. I’d ask you to let them know we’re dropping by―” The pistol licked out once more, the end of the barrel hovering mere inches from the earth pony’s face.

Her fetlock twitched.

“―but you won’t be available.”

Jenny spent several more seconds staring into the smoldering hole she had just created in the middle of Grinder’s forehead before she turned her attention towards Gerry. Harriet had joined him now too and was carefully extracting a sliver of amethyst from the side of Hash’s neck. The hippogriff inserted the shard into one of her own slots. Her eyes unfocused for a few seconds before she met Jenny’s questioning gaze and nodded. “This is it; we have Elysium’s access runes.”

The donkey nodded silently. She stood up, turning away from Grinder and closing the distance to where Hash’s body had been laid out. I watched her kneel down beside the pegasus mare and reach out with a hoof, running it gently through the bloody strands of her neon green mane. She let out a ragged sigh and I thought I saw her shoulders quiver for a moment. Then that moment seemed to pass and the donkey stood up, turning away from the sight. Gerry wordlessly watched their band’s lead singer walk away for a short while before once more taking Hash up into his arms. While retrieving the shard might have been the primary goal for this impromptu operation, it was clear that ensuring Hash’s remains were disposed of in a properly dignified fashion was not entirely a ‘secondary’ concern for them.

My view was obstructed by a set of purple hooves slowly stepping past me. I glanced up to see Dandy, a sniper rifle slung across his back, slowly wandering around the warehouse’s interior. Hovering in front of him, clutched in his talisman’s telekinesis, was a video camera. His features were creased in concentration as he regarded the screen, letting the lens of the camera linger on the various bodies of the slain boosterherd members. He eventually noticed my uncomprehending stare and shrugged. “B-roll,” he said, as though that was supposed to mean anything to me.

Then the unicorn stallion did a double-take, as though he was just noticing how bad of a shape I was in. “Whoa! You’re a li’le worse for the wear, ain’t ya? Still alive though; good on ya!” He briefly looked between the camera and me, clearly debating which was a higher priority. I won out in the end, but his barely hidden sigh suggested that the contest had been a close one.

Mares really slept with this stallion? Willingly? Soberly? Maybe not the last one, I hypothesized…

Dandy’s talisman lit with fresh magic as he pulled out an aerosol container and floated it over to me. I managed to focus through the pain onto my own talisman and grasp the offered medication, bringing it to my lips and inhaling deeply of the draught’s contents. I felt the pain lessen almost immediately. My jaw still moved awkwardly, and not in every direction I wanted it to go, and I dreaded the prospect of trying to move my broken hind leg, but it was still a great relief all the same.

“Ank ‘eww,” I managed to mumble.

“Think nothing of it,” the unicorn grinned down at me. Sweet Celestia, he was actually proud of himself. “Barkly? Cleanup on aisle five!” He called over to the diamond dog bassist.

I became aware of something large hulking over me and looked up to see that Barkly was standing at my side, smiling down at me. She slung her shotgun behind her back and reached out for me. I’ll admit, I definitely shied away from her a little. She cut quite the intimidating figure, and the claws at the end of her fingers looked very sharp. I certainly wasn’t prepared for how gentle her grip could be as the massive canine scooped me up in her arms, even taking care to be mindful of my mangled leg.

“Anks,” I said as she brought me close to her chest.

The massive diamond dog chuckled. “No problem, chica.” I could feel the words rumbling through me from her chest. How many packs of cigarettes did a creature need to smoke to get a voice that deep, I wondered? Or did she use cigars?

Jenny walked by, pausing long enough to look up at me. It was hard to read her expression exactly, but I didn’t see any malice there. So that seemed like progress. She glanced behind her, leading me to follow the direction of her gaze. Gerry had apparently managed to find a plastic tarp and had used it to wrap Hash’s body, reverently cradling the precious blue bundle in his arms as he balanced on his hind paws.

“We’ll hit up Doc Shade’s,” Jenny declared. “Then we’ll get some sleep and figure out a plan for Elysium.”

Her piercing sapphire eyes once more found their way back to me. I felt my chest tighten slightly as her gaze began to feel like it was drilling into my very soul. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision that I’d been unaware of and turned to the purple unicorn who’d gone back to filming with his camera. “Dandy, go to Hash’s place and pack everything up. Move it into the loft.” Her eyes made another flicker of movement in my direction before returning to the stallion. “All of it.”

Jenny turned away and headed for the exit. Gerry and Harreit followed soberly in her wake. I heard the diamond dog holding me chuckle deep in her chest just before a massive paw reached up and ruffled my mane with surprising gentleness that belied her size and power. “Welcome to the team,mi pequeño poni!”

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 7: Elysium

I’ll admit that I was largely ignorant of how true clandestine operations were undertaken in Light City. I’d seen vids and such as a filly growing up, and those had left me with certain expectations. In some ways, those expectations were being met. Such as how I was presently standing in a dimly lit parking garage in the middle of the night on the outskirts of Clawcifica while I waited to meet my contact. That tracked pretty well with how I thought shady dealings would start out.

It was the next part that didn’t live up to the hype, if I’m being honest.

I assumed that the driver of the van which pulled up in front of me was who I was supposed to make contact with. If for no other reason than because it wasn’t like an old abandoned amusement park saw a lot of visitors at one in the morning. Certainly not this one specific parking garage. The hippogriff driver got out, looked me over, and then promptly took out a cigarette and lit it up with his talisman.

“You got the money?” The stallion asked through a puff of smoke.

I remained where I was leaning up against one of the garage’s pillars, doing my best to affect what I assumed was the expected ‘indifferent coolness’ that a mare in my position was supposed to be projecting. Without speaking, I lit my own talisman and floated over a wad of gibbies that I had been provided with expressly for this purpose. The hippogriff took the money in his talons and briefly flipped through the notes before apparently deciding that the amount he was holding was satisfactory. He then turned around and walked off without another word, leaving the van behind.

My lips pressed into a frown. That was really it? No ambiguous parting words? No insistence on ensuring that every last gryphusbit was accounted for? No attempt at a double-cross? The transaction was really going to go that smoothly? I mean, I guess that was okay…but it was kind of boring.

With what I swear wasn’t―quite―a disappointed sigh, I got into the van’s driver’s seat and peered into the back. I noted the stacked uniforms on the floor and the collection of mops, brooms, buckets, and the numerous jugs of various colored liquids. Pretty much everything that a professional cleaning crew would need on the job really. All of it was emblazoned with a “City Center Cleaners” logo. I turned on the engine and drove off.

What followed was ten minutes of the most careful driving I’d ever engaged in in my life. I didn’t technically have a license and so I didn’t want to get nabbed by a bored LCPD officer who had nothing better to do than pull me over for a traffic violation. That would have been a decidedly underwhelming way for this mission to end, I figured. Fortunately, I arrived at the next waypoint for the operation without mounting too many curbs―by which I mean three. I did manage to snap off the passenger-side mirror while pulling into this second parking garage though.

Five creatures standing around a group of other vehicles paused their conversation at the sound of scraping metal and shattering glass and turned to watch what must have been a very red-faced yellow unicorn slowly pulling a van up next to them. I very pointedly avoided making eye contact with a nearby glowering brown jenny.

The griffon tiercel in the group didn’t visibly judge me and simply moved around to the back and opened the door, stepping aside so that the rest of the group could pile in. Curiously, I noticed that the diamond dog was already carrying a mop bucket with her. Which seemed odd to me, considering that there were already a couple of them stowed in the back and it had felt like the van already having everything we’d need to appear like a cleaning crew had been part of the plan the others had all been briefed on. None of the others were carrying anything with them. When the whole band was seated, Gerry finally climbed in and closed the door behind him. Harriet was already sorting through the uniforms and doling them out to their intended respective owners.

The hippogriff paused as she examined one more closely. She frowned as she passed it to Barkly. “Looks like the best they could do for you was a minotaur-cut,” the nettrotter informed the burly diamond dog as she passed on the dark green coveralls.

Barkly just shrugged. “Eh; is not so different, honestly.”

I was finally passed a jacket of my own by the mare and set about dressing myself in the uniform. Once we were all properly attired, Harriet then issued each of us our freshly-forged employee identification cards. I glanced down at mine before affixing it to the jacket. The headshot was fine, but the name drew a squint from me. “...Rainbow Sunshine?” I grimaced and shot a look towards the hippogriff. “Seriously?”

Harriet held up her talons in mock surrender. “I was limited to names in the CCC database,” she explained in an attempt to absolve herself of any additional criticism. “I did my best.”

“You’re telling me that there’s actually some poor sod in Light City named: Spotted Dick?” Dandy deadpanned, holding up his own badge for all to see. Barkly did a poor job of suppressing a chortle; eventually giving up the effort and settling into a wheezing laugh. The lavender unicorn glared at her.

“Zip it, Dandy.” The donkey growled from where she’d taken up position next to me in the van’s passenger seat.

“Don’t you mean: ‘zip it, Dick’?” Barkly snickered. The large diamond dog stifled her mirth when she caught the unamused glare that Jenny shot her from the front of the van. Her gaze whipped briefly to Harriet when the nettrotter mumbled under her breath: “Everypony’s a fucking critic…”

Silverhoof held her glare for several more seconds until she was assured that the antics in the rear had ceased, and then turned back around and waved her hoof towards the road. “Take us to Elysium.” I nodded and carefully guided the van along the illusionary route that Harriet had provided for me prior to starting this whole operation. I managed to only just slightly jump the curb on the turn out of the garage, earning scattered exclamations from the back.

“Remind me again why the filly’s driving?” Gerry asked as he reached up and idly rubbed the back of his head where it had bounced off the metal wall of the van when I’d mounted the curb.

“Because she was already in the driver’s seat and she could use the practice,” was Jenny’s curt reply. Then, with an aside glance in my direction, she added: “...Apparently.”

“Sorry.” I mumbled as I took the next turn a little wider. I only briefly strayed over the double-yellow lines before swerving back into the lane’s boundaries. “This is only, like, my third time driving.”

Jenny slowly turned her whole head in my direction while wearing a stoic expression. “What.” I felt additional movement behind me as other interested parties leaned forward so that they could stare at me.

I nearly ran a red light due to how anxious I was feeling with all of those judgmental eyes now suddenly watching my every move. “You asked me if I knew how to drive, and I told you: ‘yeah, my herd showed me last year.’ You didn’t ask me if I was any good at it!

“Why’d I need to be the one driving at first anyway?” I countered. “What did all of you have to do that was so important?”

“Nothing. But this way, if the guy who dropped off the van gets questioned about any of this later, he can’t point any hooves at the more easily recognizable members of Hussar. Just you. Some random filly who was part of a boosterherd that Elysium was employing.” Jenny explained. “Now any investigation that Elysium does about tonight will just end up pointing right back at them.”

“Okay,” I nodded in understanding. That did sound like a pretty reasonable precaution to take, I had to admit. However, it did leave me with one question: “So what happens to me if Elysium comes snooping around?”

“We’ll kill you.” Harriet quipped from the back without any hesitation.

I mounted another curb. Once I had the van back on the road, I turned around and gaped at the hippogriff. However, before I could demand an explanation, Jenny smacked me upside the head with her eponymous hoof and snapped, “Eyes on the road!” I resumed facing forward, but I certainly didn’t let the matter drop.

“You want to run that by me again?!”

The hippogriff nettrotter was happy to elaborate, sounding completely nonplussed by the idea of my demise. “Yeah: we’ll amend the police report the LCPD did when they finally swung by to clean up the warehouse after we iced Grinder and his crew and add your name to the list of those killed. Elysium’s investigators will hit a dead end and be fresh out of leads.

“Why? What’d you think I meant?” The mare’s tone and her broad grin of obviously feigned innocence made it clear that she was perfectly aware of how her initial statement could have been easily misconstrued to imply something else entirely.

“Cut the filly some slack, Harriet.” I heard Gerry lightly admonish before he directed his next words at me. “You’re part of our crew now, Pel. We’re not going to just leave you with your flank hanging in the breeze. We all look out for each other.”

“Exactly!” Dandy chimed in. “The only ‘dying’ you should be thinking about are the numerous ‘little deaths’ that you’d experience during a night of passion with yours tru―OW!” That last outburst was accompanied by what sounded distinctly like a head hitting the side of the van.

“Thank you.” I was surprised to hear those two words come out of my mouth in chorus with Jenny’s. The pair of us exchanged a brief look, where I thought I saw the briefest hint of a smile touch the donkey’s face before she once more directed my focus back towards driving the van.

“De nada,” Barkly responded.

The offices of Elysium Property Management Services were located in Aeriesaka Tower. Which I’d found to be something of a surprise when this part of the operation was first briefed to me. I’d assumed that the building was exclusively used by Aeriesaka. Gerry had explained that most of the larger skyscrapers in Light City played host to several different corporate offices. Even a lot of the larger organizations in the city couldn’t justify needing a whole fifty-plus floor building to manage their operations. To that end, only about a dozen or so floors of the massive building we were approaching were actually explicitly used by Aeriesaka. Something like three quarters of the building was leased out to other organizations.

Though it did seem that only one company was used to clean it, judging by the half dozen other identical Central City Cleaners vans that were parked on the main level of the otherwise sparsely occupied subterranean garage. Jenny directed me to park among our other ‘fellow cleaners’. When I finally situated the van and turned the engine off, I heard activity in the rear of the vehicle as the others set about extracting themselves out through the back doors, along with most of the cleaning supplies.

I extracted myself from the driver's seat and fell into step with the rest of the group. I was passed an empty push-cart and a roll of plastic bags. The latter I shifted to my new company-branded saddlebags with my talisman while I reared up on my hind legs to push the other. I followed the rest of the group as they headed for a nearby service elevator. When we stepped in, I noticed that there wasn’t an option for us to go any higher than the lobby. If any of the others thought this was odd, they didn’t react. Gerry reached out with a talon and keyed in the main floor of the building as our destination.

The trip took only moments, and then the doors opened up into one of the most opulent and cavernous rooms that I’d ever seen in my life outside of vids. The ceiling was easily ten meters above the floor, hosting a half dozen gargantuan chandeliers that were each larger than the van we’d driven up here in. It took me almost a full minute of staring before I realized that those chandeliers weren’t actually mounted into the ceiling itself, but were instead affixed to clouds and lazily orbiting around the lobby like some ethereal merry-go-round.

Beneath those masterpieces of lighting, my eyes spotted several long reception counters that looked like they’d been carved out of singular slabs of granite dozens of meters long and polished to a mirror shine. They were all unoccupied, but the computer terminals sitting atop them suggested that a significant number of creatures could normally be found working behind those counters during normal business hours. Presently, however, there was only one occupied space: a centrally located U-shaped desk with a pair of uniformed griffons sitting at it. One of them was standing up, eyeing us as we stepped out of the elevator.

“Vamos.” I heard Barkly softly growl from behind me as a paw gently nudged me forward. It was then I realized that I was lagging behind the rest of the group and spurred myself into a brisk two-legged trot to catch up, wincing as I heard one of the wheels of my cart squeaking loudly. The others were already lining up at what was very clearly some sort of security checkpoint, where a black-feather griffon tiercel who stood a whole head and shoulders above Gerry was ushering our group through an archway. Meanwhile all of our gear was being placed onto a belt and fed through a scanning machine of some sort.

Jenny was the first one through. As she presented her badge to the tiercel for him to examine, I heard the griffon proclaim: “You guys are getting in pretty late.” He refrained from returning the donkey’s badge, clearly awaiting an explanation for our apparent tardiness.

“Our usual truck wouldn’t start,” our leader replied with a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. “Took a while for management to find us one that worked, then a bit longer to move all our shit into it.”

The guard’s only response was to grunt before finally returning her badge. Then he moved on to check Gerry’s. He didn’t seem to have any further questions for our group.

When it was my turn, the Aeriesake security guard took a look at my cart and indicated that I should just push it through the archway. I tried to hide my nervousness as I cautiously stepped through, warily eyeing the array of glowing diamonds that adorned the metal ‘door’. They didn’t seem to react to my passage, which I took as a good sign. Not that I could think of any reason why they should have reacted. It wasn’t like I actually had any weapons on me. To the best of my knowledge, our whole group was unarmed. At least, I hadn’t been given a gun before being sent out to collect the van.

Once I was through, the tiercel reached out his talons towards me. I managed not to flinch away as I activated my talisman and floated my identification badge to him. The griffon’s eyes briefly scanned it and passed it back. I let out a breath I hadn’t realize dI’d been holding and reclipped it to my jacket before clearing out of the way.

Barkly was the last to step through the security checkpoint and be checked, at which point we were directed to collect all of the gear which the other guard had finished examining through the machine and pointed at another service elevator. This one allowed for significantly more options where destination floors were concerned. Gerry keyed in the code for the floor which would take us to Elysium’s offices.

This ride was significantly longer than the one up from the garage had been. It appeared that Elysium’s leased suites were on the thirty-second level of the building. When the doors opened, we were greeted by the sight of a long hallway. We filed out but didn’t make it far before Jenny subtly motioned for us to stop. I furrowed my brow in confusion but said nothing. The donkey glanced over her shoulder at Harriet and then jerked her head in the direction of a security camera nestled in the corner by the elevator door. The hippogriff mare merely nodded and then glanced up at the indicated camera. A second later, the little glowing red light on the front which announced its operational status dimmed and the servo holding it erect powered down, leaving the surveillance camera hanging limply against the wall.

Just as the camera went down, Barkly reached into the mop bucket that she was pushing around and used one of her claws to pull out the bottom. At least, I thought it was the bottom. However, as the circular metal sheet was lifted into the air, I saw that it revealed a false compartment. Gerry reached in and started to remove the pistols that had been sequestered there.

As the griffon tiercel passed them out to the group, I cocked my head. “...How did Aeriesaka miss those?” This building was supposed to have some of the best security in the city. Was I to believe that their sophisticated scanning equipment couldn’t see through a metal bucket?

Barkly flashed a grin in my direction and then flipped the lid towards me. It was then that I noticed the talisman embedded on the bottom of it. “Warding talismans,” the diamond dog said, confirming my assumption. “Blocks scrying. Shows up as a void.”

“Which might be a problem in most situations.” Gerry chimed in now as he turned to hand me my own pistol. I noticed the others were tucking theirs out of sight under their uniforms, so I used my talisman to do the same. “However, an empty bucket is supposed to have a void in it. So it’s fine.

“These are precautionary only,” the griffon went on, passing out the last of the weapons to Jenny. I felt like I saw them exchange a meaningful look, but it was broken before I could be sure. Then he was looking back my way. “Only take it out if your life is in danger. Otherwise, try to run and evade as a first option if you’re discovered. This isn’t Haywood. Bodies draw attention here.”

“Especially ‘here’,” Harriet stressed. “If word got out that Aeriesaka Security couldn’t protect its clients from armed intruders, you can bet heads would roll. Probably literally. Whoever is in charge of security would want to make examples of whoever shamed them before they got axed too.”

“This is an info-grab job anyway.” The donkey finished stowing her own pistol and cast one last look around to make sure that we all still looked like innocuous janitors. She nodded her head in satisfaction. “There’s nothing here we should need to shoot at.” With that, she turned around and signaled for us to follow her down the corridor.

A short walk later, it emptied out into another―though dramatically more reserved―reception area. This time the―much smaller―desk was occupied by only a single guard. Though this one was wearing a different uniform than what the griffons had been dressed in downstairs. Where the Aeriesake Security officers had been attired in matte black armor-reinforced uniforms with blood-red trim and the winged crown of the griffon royal family emblazoned on their shoulders, the earth pony mare half-asleep in the chair up here was dressed in a simple white button-down shirt and black tie and wearing a navy blue cap with “SECURITY” embroidered upon the front.

The mare glanced up at us with a quirked brow as we all walked into view. She immediately sat up straighter in her seat, a critical eye fixed on all of us. “Hold on; who are you guys? You’re not the regula―!” The guard suddenly stiffened, her talisman bursting to life with crimson light. It pulsed once and her mouth opened in a silent gasp of pain…and then she went completely limp, falling out of her chair onto the floor below.

Shocked, and mindful of the warning that I’d been given less than a minute ago about the desire not to leave behind any casualties, I leaped over the desk to check on the downed mare. I began to tap her on the cheek, trying to get a response out of her. Harriet was stepping around the desk as well, though without nearly any of the urgency which I’d had. I looked up at the hippogriff, waiting for her to tell me what should be done for the guard…but the mare just ignored me. Instead, she turned her attention to the computer terminal that the guard had been dozing in front of.

A set of talons gently gripped my shoulder and urged me back onto my hooves. “It’s okay,” Gerry assured me in a calming tone. “She’s fine. Harriet just put her out for a bit.”

The nettrotter was presently teasing out the access cabling implanted in her wrist and plugging it into the open port on the terminal, but she seemed completely aware of the griffon’s assurances. “There’s something of an ‘exploit’ present in the standard arcanetic talismans everycreature has―” Jenney cleared her throat. “Most creatures have,” Harriet corrected with an audible eyeroll before she continued her explanation. “Thanks to a lawsuit that FF.Inc lost years ago after one of their talismans shorted out, they put out a patch that casts a sleep charm on the user if a dangerous overload is detected.

“So, all I have to do is feed somecreature’s implant a couple of runes that sends the talisman into a power-feedback loop and, in a few seconds,” she snapped her claws for dramatic emphasis, “out like a light.”

“A lawsuit caused that?” I glanced up at Gerry.

The griffon shrugged. “Some corpo exec’s kid was dicking around with back-alley ‘upgrades’ for his arcanetics. Accidentally triggered that same sort of power overload that Harriet was talking about. But, without the sleep charm, the kid was conscious the whole time the talisman built up mana. There’s a safety feature that prevents the talisman from outright exploding,” the tiercel assured me.

Harriet interjected with a “Usually!”

Gerry waved away her contribution and continued on. “But not before it’s built up a lot of mana; and right on top of your brain. Think of the worst headache you’ve ever had, and then multiply that by about a thousand.” He shared a knowing look and I felt myself wincing in sympathy.

“Kid survived, but his mom filed a massive ‘pain and suffering’ suit against FF.Inc. Updating their talismans with the sleep charm trigger was their solution.”

“Cheaper than actually fixing the overload bug, apparently,” Harriet contributed.

“So she’ll be out for a while,” the griffon motioned to the prone earth pony, “but is otherwise fine; I promise.”

I nodded in understanding. A second later, Harriet disconnected herself from the terminal and announced the completion of her latest task to the group. “Triggered a server update and reset for the cameras. It’ll look like some IT tech fucked up and mistimed the maintenance cycle. We’ve got an hour to ourselves.”

Jenny nodded. “Good.” She glanced at the rest of us. “Harriet and I will head for the executive suites and grab what we came here for. The rest of you…” The donkey made a show of running her hoof along the top of the reception desk that the guard had been sitting at and looking at the results with a mildly disgusted look on her face. “This place is filthy. Get cleaning.”

“Wait, really?” I balked, looking between the faces of the rest of the group to see whether or not she was making a joke in an effort to mess with me. “We’re actually going to clean this place?”

Gerry reached out and snapped up a roll of plastic bags in his talons. “There’s no guarantee that this office is completely empty,” he said as he started walking off down one of the other hallways. “Emptying the trash and shit gives us a chance to scope the whole floor without looking suspicious. Plus it might raise questions if management comes in tomorrow and sees that nothing got done by the cleaning crew.” The griffon motioned for me to follow him, and so I did. Meanwhile, Dandy and Barkly went their own way, pushing a mop bucket and a vacuum cleaner. I didn’t see which way Jenny and Harriet went.

The hallway that Gerry led me down eventually opened up into a cubical farm. Just as he’d suggested we were going to do, the tiercel started hoisting bags of the day’s trash out of the small waste baskets under the desks and tossing them into the large bin I was still pushing around. Then he’d stuff in a fresh liner from the roll he was carrying. It was a little surreal to realize that this mission to break into a corporate office and steal sensitive company data about their illegal shakedown operations would also involve me doing the closest thing to ‘an honest day’s work’ that I’d ever done in my life.

Huh.

After we’d worked our way down a couple of aisles of claustrophobically-cramped cubicles, Gerry turned and tossed the significantly diminished roll of liners at me, which I barely managed to catch in my telekinesis. The griffon then snatched up a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution. “You keep on with the trash; I’m going to wipe stuff down.” He then walked off, leaving me on my own.

I did as I’d been told, using my talisman to levitate out the bags of refuse from the bins and replace them with fresh ones from the roll floating beside me. All the while I kept my ears open for any sounds that might suggest somecreature besides us was among the workstations. I didn’t end up coming across anycreature, much to my relief. At least, not anycreature that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Jenny gave me a bit of a fright when she unexpectedly stepped out of the door to an office bearing a placard which indicated it belonged to the ‘CFO’―whatever that meant―which I’d been about to go into. My telekinesis had my pistol halfway out of my jacket by the time I recognized the donkey. She cast me a withering look as she noticed what I’d been about to do. “Calm your teets, you fucking donk. You either keep that thing out of sight unless your life is in danger, or I’m taking it from you to make sure you don’t do something stupid and fuck this up for us.”

I nodded and very hastily slipped the pistol back out of sight. “Sorry.” My eyes caught a brief flicker of crimson as Jenny’s arcanetic hoof moved to her side and tucked something out of sight beneath her own uniform. It had looked to me like a shard of some sort, but I couldn’t be sure. I pushed the thought out of my mind and was about to slip past the jenny to get into the office and empty the trash can within when the donkey singer’s organic forelimb snapped out across the doorway and blocked my progress. I drew up short with a start and looked, wide-eyed, at her.

“This room’s good.” Silverhoof stared at me for several seconds before finally jerking her head further down the hall. “Move along.”

I gave the jenny another―much less sure―nod of my head and continued pushing my cart further down the corridor without argument. I made a mental note to ask Gerry about this later. At this point I wasn’t sure if it was me, or if the donkey was just a hard creature to read in general. Granted, I could well imagine that I wasn’t the jenny’s favorite pony on the planet. Intentionally or not, I had killed a good friend of hers not too long ago.

That sobering reminder in my head, I slipped into the next suite along the hall. I suffered another brief round of heart palpitations when I saw that this office wasn’t empty either. At least this time I managed to keep from going immediately for my pistol long enough to identify the familiar hippogriff nettrotter. Harriet glanced briefly in my direction from where she was presently sitting at the desk bearing the nameplate: ‘Summer Wind, CEO’. I said nothing, not wanting to risk antagonizing another member of the band, and simply used my talisman to extract the trash can from beneath the desk.

A moment later, Jenny stepped into the room. The donkey seemed content to ignore my presence entirely as she walked up to the aquamarine hippogriff. She held out her hoof, passing a small sapphire shard to the nettrotter. “Finished planting the messages.”

“Good,” Harriet said, taking back the offered crystal. Her eyes then glazed over. “Now for the part of this I’m going to hate…” she muttered through a disgusted sigh. “I’m a disgruntled finance officer whose conscience finally got the best of them,” the hippogriff sarcastically sing-songed as the talisman mounted just below her crest flickered with activity. “I just finished spilling the beans to the news, and now I’m going to do a really shitty job covering my tracks because I’m a glorified CPA and don’t know anything about how network security works. Aaaannnnd…done!”

The hippogriff pushed back from the desk, a physically ill expression on her face. “Intentional or not, I can genuinely taste the bile from how disgusted being that sloppy made me feel.” She glanced back in my directions and held up a single talon. “Don’t leave quite yet. I may need you to change out the liner again, because I think I may actually puke.”

“I’m starting to think being a drama princess is intrinsically linked to being a nettrotter,” Jenny said with a snort directed at the other mare.

“A strong sense of professional pride is installed into our implants as part of the firmware package, yeah,” she quipped, a smug expression on the hippogriff’s face just before she returned her attention back to the terminal. “Now that the important bits are out of the way, let’s see if there are any other juicy nuggets of intel here for us to―woah!” The netrotter bolted upright in the chair in clear surprise. “Oh, shit!”

“What?” Both the donkey and I chorused. I felt my gut tightening with dread. Anything that would take the otherwise calm and collected mare by surprise like that certainly couldn’t be good news, after all.

“Are we compromised?” Jenny added, her own tone hardening in anticipation of having to make some contingencies to the mission.

“No,” the netrotter assured us quickly, but I didn’t see her relax in the slightest. “Just found a high-level secured message to the CEO from Aeriesaka. It’s a courtesy announcement giving them a warning that tower security is going to be getting a lot tighter next week.” Her eyes finally regained their focus once more, but now they were filled with awe. “...The king’s coming.”

My brain locked up. I might not have been ‘in the know’ about most of what went on in Light City, but I knew enough that I didn’t have to ask which ‘king’ Harriet was talking about. After all, there was only one ‘king’ in the world―or, at least there was only one king that mattered: King Grover V, the supreme ruler of the Griffon Kingdom which lay a few hundred miles across the western sea. And while the technical legal semantics were a bit murkier on the subject, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate to say that he ‘owned’ the whole of Light City.

That being said, visits from the griffon sovereign were, to put it mildly, extremely rare. As in: ‘the king hasn’t been to Light City since the official dedication over fifty years ago’ rare. Not that any of Equestria’s alicorn princesses had been by in just as long either, but still…

At least there was the occasional piece of news coming out of the Griffon Kingdom. I couldn’t really recall the last time I’d seen anything mentioned regarding Equestria or its ruler.

One had to wonder why it was that King Grover V was motivated to swing by now though. It had to be for a pretty important reason, right?

Oddly enough, I saw that Jenny was looking a lot more relaxed after receiving the news that either Harriet or I appeared to be. The donkey frowned and shook her head. “Fuck’s sake, Hare; you about gave me a fucking heart attack. We’ve got bigger things to worry about right now than some cat-assed royal who’s not even here. We’re in Aeriesaka Tower; stay focused until we’re out of here and back at the loft.”

She looked around the office once more and then nodded her head towards the CEO’s terminal. “Are we wrapped up here?”

The hippogriff blinked a few times in surprise, apparently just as caught off guard as I was that Jenny wasn’t reacting more strongly to what genuinely had to be some of the biggest news in Light City since its founding. She glanced briefly at the nearby computer and nodded. “Yeah, we’re all good here. Got what we need and the breadcrumbs we want laid are scattered where they can be not-too-easily found. We can leave any time.”

The donkey turned for the door and started heading out of the office. “Then put the word out to wrap things up and let's get out of here.”

Harriet started trotting out the door after the singer. As she left, I heard her voice simultaneously in my ear and in my head. “Jenny says: rally at the elevator. We’re clocking out.” A chorus of acknowledgements followed shortly after and I pushed my mostly full cart after them.

The trip out of the building was fortunately just as uneventful as getting in had been. We returned our firearms to the false-bottomed mop bucket, loaded into the service elevator, and exited back out past security in the building’s lobby before returning to the parking garage. We piled into the van along with all of our gear and supplies. I was replaced at the wheel by Gerry though, which I was perfectly fine with.

I started shucking my City Center Cleaners uniform off the moment the van was back out on the street, and I wasn’t the only one either. The rest of the crew seemed just as happy to be out of their disguises as I was. I watched Harriet pass a crystal shard to Dandy, the unicorn accepting the little piece of storage medium with a broad grin and a gleeful laugh. “Mulitzer Prize, here I come!”

The lavender unicorn’s mirth was interrupted by a sudden slamming of the breaks of the van, which itself was accompanied by an outburst of curses from Gerry and Jenny both. “Fucking shells!” “Rat fuck!”

No sooner had the van come to a complete stop than I heard blaring sirens growing lowder. My heart leaped into my throat as I began to panic, certain that we’d somehow been identified and were about to be swarmed by LCPD and arrested. I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines either, it seemed. I noticed that Barkly had already pried the lid off of the mop bucket’s hidden compartment and was holding a revolver in her paw. Apparently aware of the move, Jenny whipped her arcanetic hoof into view from where she was sitting in the front passenger seat and waved for everycreature else to remain calm and seated.

From where I was in the back of the van, I didn’t have a clear view through the front windshield, but I was able to catch the glints of reflected red and blue lights as LCPD cars approached us…and then passed right on by down the cross-street. Not just one or two of them either. It felt to me like every officer in the city’s entire department was whipping past us on their way to…somewhere.

Harriet provided the answer to my unasked question a few seconds later. “According to the police scanners, there’s something big going down at GlimTech. LCPD wants all hooves on deck.”

We all exchanged glances with one another. It appeared that ours was not the only crew doing something in City Center that they shouldn’t ought to have been. However, it did seem that our operation had gone a lot more smoothly.

It was the better part of five minutes later before the sounds of sirens and the flashing lights had cleared and we were allowed to proceed on our way back to Haywood. Even then, we didn’t make it more than a few more blocks before we stopped again―albeit much less abruptly. I did notice more flashing lights though. Once more, Jenny motioned for quiet.

A short while later, after creeping forward a bit, Gerry rolled down his window and leaned his head out. “Busy night, officer?” I heard the faint lilt of a joking undertone in his rhetorical question. At least the LCPD officer he was speaking with seemed to be in a good enough mood to roll with it.

“The overtime tonight is going to put the bean-counters through an early molt,” I heard a gruff feminine voice typically reserved for a griffon hen respond with a mild chortle. “Where’re you folks coming from?”

“Just finished a shift in Aeriesaka,” the griffon replied easily, affecting a pleasantly conversational tone with the unseen officer who’d stopped us. “Heading back to the bullpen to resupply and then it’s on to the LCU annex by GlimTech.”

“Ha! Not tonight it’s not; not anymore,” the officer corrected him. “You’re going to want to tell your boss everything within three blocks of GlimTech is going to be locked down all night. An official announcement will go out over the Net soon, but figured I’d save you a trip back out here just for me to turn you around again in an hour.”

“Oh, wow!” Gerry probably didn’t have to do much acting to sound surprised by the news. Considering Harriet hadn’t been able to find out many more details herself. “What’s going on?”

“Break-in at GlimTech is all I can tell you. Just stay out of the area for a while, alright?” A set of talons could be heard smacking the side of the van. “Drive safe!”

“Will do; good night, officer!” Gerry pulled his head back into the cab and rolled up the window as he resumed driving us away from downtown. “Break-in at GlimTech…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Wonder who it was and what they were after?”

The griffon’s question hadn’t sounded like it had been directed at any of us in particular, but Jenny answered anyway. “Just drive,” the donkey snapped. Both myself and Gerry glanced at the irate Silverhoof. The griffon soon turned his full attention to the road, but my gaze lingered on the singer for a few moments longer. Her eponymous limb was resting on the dashboard, tapping away at it rather anxiously. She didn’t say anything further; and neither did anycreature else for the rest of the ride.

The five of us who didn’t have ‘real’ jobs were gathered in the Green Room late the next morning, our attention fixed upon the large-screen television mounted on the wall. Daisy had just come by with refreshments less than a minute ago as we prepared to watch Dandy’s upcoming segment on Light City News. For the members of Hussar, the unicorn’s report represented the culmination of months of investigation and planning―and had ultimately cost a good mare her life. All of it had been leading to this moment: where Elysium’s dirty dealings would finally be aired to the public.

There was a celebratory energy in the air as the other four members of the band quietly congratulated themselves for their own parts in the campaign to finally put an end to the pervasive extortion racket. Even for myself, while I had only been a part of the operation for less than a week and had only been actively involved for the tail end of it, there was no doubt that I was also―if not more―personally invested in exposing Elysium. Their practices had ultimately been responsible for the deaths of both my closest friend, as well as my mother. To say nothing of contributing to how shittily my life had turned out. While Gerry and the others had already tempered my expectations in regards to the likely only mild fallout that the corporation and the overall architects of the extortion scheme would suffer, I was determined to see Dandy’s exposé today as a ‘victory’ anyway.

At the moment, it seemed that we were just catching the tail end of an update regarding whatever it was that had happened at GlimTech: “―a spokesmare for GlimTech, Miss Carat Clarity, would say only that their grounds were briefly breached by unauthorized individuals. She would not comment on whether any material or information was stolen, citing confidentiality concerns for their clients. She did assure our station that GlimTech’s security staff were working diligently with LCPD investigators to identify and apprehend the intruders, and that updates would be released to the press as they became available.”

“Corpo media relations speak for: ‘we lost something very important and we have no idea who did it or where they are’,” Gerry commented right before taking a sip from a beer. Beside him, Harriet was nodding along in agreement. Barkly was more interested in a bowl of pork rinds that had been brought out to her by Daisy.

Jenny was anxiously bouncing her arcanetic hoof against the headrest of her chaise lounge. At least, she was until she noticed my stare. Then she folded her forelimbs across her chest and leered at me until I turned my attention back towards the television.

“―now go over to investigative reporter Dapper Dan, who has uncovered some startling revelations regarding one of the city’s largest property management firms: Elysium Property Management Services. Dapper?”

The view of the pair of reporters seated behind the anchor desk shifted then to show Dandy―whose real name was apparently ‘Dapper Dan’, I now knew―as I had never seen him before: Looking genuinely suave and attractive. The lavender unicorn was not dressed in the iconic patch-riddled vest of his drummer persona which had been the only way I’d known him up to this point, but instead wore a navy-blue blazer over a white shirt and maroon tie. His mane was styled to be less ‘punk’ and now looked properly kept and combed. Honestly, if I hadn’t explicitly known that he was Hussar’s drummer, I wouldn’t have recognized him. The change was uncanny.

Heck, if the Dandy I was seeing on screen had walked up and asked me out to dinner, I would almost certainly have said, ‘yes’. Which was a concept that I found quite concerning the more I dwelled on it…

“Thanks, Eddy! That’s right, viewers; thanks to documents that were recently leaked to our staff by what appears to be the last remaining employee at Elysium with a conscience―which is something that’s rarer in Light City than an alicorn princess, it feels like,” the unicorn stallion added as an aside to the audience with an look that was far more ‘Dandy-like’ in my opinion. “We now know that the property management company was working directly with several street thugs in Haywood and Trotson in what can only be described as: ‘an extortion racket’.”

The view on the screen cut away from the stallion and now showed several message excerpts which I assumed had been taken from whatever files that Harriet had hacked into while we were at the office. “Internal messages between high-level executives reveal that the company had effectively ‘contracted’ with local boosterherds to actually go door-to-door in Elysium-managed megasilos and extort ‘protection money’ from the residents. This money would then be wired to accounts operated by shell companies controlled by members of Elysium’s board of directors.” Additional documents flashed across the television, highlighting the names of trustees managing the shell companies, and showing the identical names of board members on official filings that Elysium had made with the Light City government.

“As our viewers are most certainly aware, boosterherds have been a persistent issue in several Light City boroughs for many years. Often engaging in violent ‘terf wars’ that ravage our city and endanger residents.” Footage that I recognized as being the aftermath of the band’s ‘assault’ on Grinder’s warehouse was being shown now, the camera doing a good job of highlighting the bodies and gore which was all that remained of my former herd. “The LCPD has earned something of a reputation among residents in heavily affected neighborhoods for their slow response times and perceived indifference to the shakedowns happening in the city’s megasilos. LCPD Chief, Blue Line, has gone on record insisting that the department was doing all they could, but simply lacked proper funding or staffing from the city.

“However, also revealed in these leaked documents were messages exchanged between Elysium executives and Chief Blue Line asking him to reduce police presence in certain neighborhoods and have his officers deliberately drag their hooves on response times during calls. I’ve reached out to the LCPD for comment, but have not received a response yet. I’ve also reached out to the mayor’s office for her opinion on the quality of Light City’s policing.” The last was said with an audible smirk.

“That’s going to be a fun press conference to watch,” Gerry chuckled, earning a chorus of agreements from the rest of the group. “Cue the gaslighting about ‘fake documents’.”

“In fairness, those messages actually are fake,” Harriet remarked, earning a look from the others, which she simply shrugged off. “Dandy’s idea. He thinks this’ll light a fire under the LCPD to stop being as shitty as they are for a while.”

“Won’t including forged messages in this report undermine the real stuff?” I asked. “If they prove the messages to the LCPD are faked, then can’t Elysium claim all of it was made up?”

“The only way they’d be able to genuinely ‘prove’ that with any credible weight would be by letting the city’s auditors comb over their systems. Which, let’s be honest, is the last thing that either group wants. So it’d just be Elysium and the LCPD’s word against Dandy’s; and Dandy has at least some real messages with legit system logs that he can turn over to prove the stuff about working with the boosterherds,” The hippogriff explained.

Jenny was the next to contribute. “Even if Dandy turns over the forged messages and the city announces them as being faked, all that he has to do is point out how convenient it is that the messages he had which implicated a private corporation were substantiated, but the moment city officials got stuff that reflected poorly on the mayor’s office…” The donkey let the implication hang.

Harriet felt compelled to fill in the blanks. “The city is insisting that just the messages which paint them in a bad light are the ones that happen to be ‘fake’? Wow, how convenient…”

“Public pressure is gonna pile on the LCPD no matter what,” Barkly agreed.

I could understand the rationale, I suppose. And I sure didn’t feel bad about the LCPD getting their leg figuratively twisted into actually doing their jobs around Haywood. However, I had to admit that it didn’t entirely sit right with me that we were lying to the public, when the whole point of the operation―at least as it had been explained to me―had been to finally get the truth out. Not that I thought we were exactly all paragons of truth and justice or anything. It was just…

Lying like this felt wrong.

I turned my attention back to Dandy’s broadcast and found that it was wrapping up. “―we’ll be following up on this story over the coming weeks as additional details develop and Elysium and city officials issue their comments. But, for now, that concludes our coverage and so I’ll turn you lovely creatures back over to Coastal Eddy and Gertrude at the main desk.”

The camera shifted away from the lavender unicorn stallion and back to the hippogriff stallion and griffon hen anchors pair who normally hosted the morning segments of LCN. The griffon was wearing a professional smile as she accepted the transition. “Enlightening reporting as always, Dapper. Thank you. It also pairs well with this next breaking report that our newsroom received only this morning:

“There are preliminary reports that Elysium Properties has been the victim of perhaps the single largest embezzlement scheme ever reported in the city―” I recoiled as I found my backside suddenly drenched in beer as a result of Gerry’s spectacular spit-take. My instinctive desire to cry out and chastise the tiercel was overridden by my own unbridled shock upon hearing the new revelation regarding Elysium. “―ompany’s CFO apparently drained all of Elysium Property’s operating accounts early this morning. While Mister Book has been taken into custody by LCPD officers, it is unknown when―or even if―the funds can be recovered. When reached out to for comment, Balanced Book’s attorney would say only that his client ‘vehemently denied the charges’.

“I’ll leave it to Dapper Dan to fill us in later if this latest report is in any way connected to the company’s dealings with boosterherds.” The griffon glanced to her left and the camera briefly cut to an obviously quite surprised stallion who flustered his way through a “...We’ll have to see, Gerty!” before the view recentered on the chow’s primary hosts.

“It remains to be seen how this effective ‘bankruptcy’ affects Elysium’s ability to manage the city’s megasilos, which house nearly one million residents. Any thoughts, Eddy?”

“Well, in the short-term, not much should change for those living in the megasilos, but this is something that will certainly be felt down the line,” the hippogriff remarked. “Especially when it comes time for Elysium to cover the utility bills for those buildings. With most Light City utilities being a ‘pay-as-you-go’ service, it’s unclear how Elysium would be able to cover providing water and electricity to residents on their managed properties. Currently, lines or credit are not accepted for private citizens, but we’ll have to see if an exception might be made for something on this scale…”

I became aware of the hushed whispers being exchanged behind me now, as well as a towel that Gerry was passing to me. Unsurprisingly, most of the conversation had to do with this wholly unanticipated revelation regarding Elysium.

“Holy fuck―” “Mierda…” “How did I miss seeing that?!”

“Zip it!” Jenny snapped. The room quieted down almost immediately. The donkey reached over to the remote and turned off the television. “None of that’s our problem. We did what we set out to. Now we focus on the next op.

“Which can wait until later anyway. We have a gig tonight.” The jenny climbed off her couch and headed for the door, leaving without another word. Everycreature stared after her in silence for several long seconds before resuming muttering amongst themselves about that last shocking tidbit of news.

“...This isn’t good,” Gerry muttered, shaking his head.

“No kidding,” Harriet agreed. “I still can’t get over how I didn’t catch that while I was poking around in their files last night. I didn’t even think to check their financials…”

Meanwhile, I was biting down on my lip to keep from blurting out something I wasn’t sure I was supposed to. I recalled seeing Jenny stepping out of the CFO’s office while tucking away that strange shard she was carrying, which hadn’t been the one that I’d seen her return to Harriet. It was possible that there wasn’t any connection between what I’d seen and the ‘embezzlement’, but…I wasn’t so sure. I was pretty sure that bringing the matter up with Jenny herself wouldn’t prove particularly fruitful. I also didn’t want to just speak up in front of the whole group either. I was the newcomer, and I sure wasn’t about to put my word about what I’d seen up against any of the donkey’s denials. If I got bucked out of here, I didn’t have anywhere to fall back on.

I resolved to speak to Gerry later in private and see what he thought of it. Of all the band’s members, I felt the most comfortable around him. If nothing else, he might be able to explain away Silverhoof’s actions and put my own mind at ease. After all, maybe this whole embezzlement thing was legit. It wasn’t like we didn’t already know Elysium’s execs were slimy. Maybe one of them was a crook too?

Funny how I was having a hard time convincing myself of that…

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 8: Upsy-Daisy

If I’d thought I was going to be loafing around all day in the loft while the others rehearsed for their concert tonight, I’d have been dead wrong. It turned out―and I agreed rightly so―that I was expected to ‘earn my keep’ even when I wasn’t helping with the band’s clandestine operations. Gerry informed me that this would consist of ‘running errands’ with Daisy. Which, it turned out, had not been any kind of euphemism for participating in shady dealings in back alleys and such as part of laying the groundwork for future operations.

I was legitimately helping Daisy run errands. Specifically: shopping for groceries.

Well, ‘shop’ might have been a misleading label. At least, I felt it was. That was how Daisy had put it though. In any case, I felt like that terminology mischaracterized what we were doing: which, presently, was wandering through an underground garden picking fruits and vegetables.

Now, when I use the term ‘underground’, I am―again, somehow―not referring to it being anything shady or criminal in nature. I mean that it was literally ‘underground’. As in: the garden in question existed in an old below-street-level parking garage. While I felt I could be forgiven for assuming that the reason the ponies running this multi-level gardening operation were doing so in an abandoned part of Clawcifica explicitly to escape notice of city officials because there was something illegal about what was going on, Daisy assured me that the actual reason was much simpler than that: This was just one of the few places on the island with enough open space to grow real vegetables. Which…was correct, I acknowledged.

Light City was not, in any way, self-sufficient. This wasn’t even strictly-speaking due to any fault of the city officials or the result of gross mismanagement due to corporate greed. It was just a fact that the island wasn’t particularly large. It certainly wasn’t a tiny island, to be sure; but nowhere near big enough that arable land could have been set aside to feed the local population. Light City played host to the better part of six million creatures. Daisy explained that feeding that many creatures would require the better part of sixty thousand square kilometers of farmland. And that was accounting for supplementing diets of more carnivorous-minded creatures with fish from the sea.

Meanwhile, the island Light City was built on was only a couple hundred square kilometers in area. The consequence of this was that pretty much the population’s entire food supply needed to be imported. This really wasn’t a ‘problem’, per say. A lot of raw materials and such needed to be imported to support the city’s manufacturing sector too. But, because space was at such a premium, as much of it as possible was dedicated to manufacturing and services and such that could make the city money.

The nominally ‘abandoned’ Clawcifica region of Light City existed as something of an anomaly. It had been intended as a way to draw in tourism to the island, but had flopped spectacularly when it turned out that griffons, the primary residents of the largest nearby nation, weren’t all that much about the ‘fun and frivolity’ associated with theme parks. Meanwhile, the homelands of any other species which might have been were too far away to make coming to Light City worthwhile, especially when there were other options closer to home which were just as good. It wasn’t as though merely being located in Light City did anything to make an amusement park particularly worthwhile to visit. So, for now, the grounds of the decaying theme park existed in development limbo until the city’s competing political factions could finally decide on how the land could best be repurposed to become profitable.

Until then, there was simply a lot of land and buildings that were being largely ignored by city officials. Which meant that there were areas which were nominally ‘up for grabs’. At least until the city’s council made a decision on what to do with Clawcifica and came in to clear out all of the squatters. Until then, there were places like this.

I found myself marveling at the engineering which had apparently gone into the garden. This had clearly been quite a thoroughly thought-out endeavor. Beds of rich soil had been built and organized along the paved surfaces and planted with all manner of root vegetables and tubers. Above them were suspended trays flush with legumes and even berry-producing plants. A network of pipes criss-crossed in seemingly random directions, letting out a steady misting of water vapor; and yet I realized that I could see a method to their arrangement if I paused to really examine their placement. I spotted a few earth ponies wearing green coveralls and carrying datapads wandering past the bed and trays, making the occasional note or adjusting a valve.

In stark contrast to my gawking, Daisy was strolling among the plants entirely nonplused, offering the occasional friendly greeting to a passing gardener. She was without the slinky black dress that I’d previously only known her for wearing, and was instead dressed in much more ‘normal’ street clothing, sporting a short-cut black and neon pink synthetic leather jacket. Her mane was no longer tied up in a professional bun, but instead draped loosely over her right side. She looked like a completely different pony honestly.

Every so often, the talisman mounted into her forehead would ignite and she’d pull out some plant or other, floating it over to me and stuffing it into my saddlebags. That was the division of labor that was in effect here: Daisy collected the food, and I would be the one hauling it around. My gaping at the irrigation system was diverted as I spied several red orbs being stuffed into my bag in a glow of emerald magic. “What’re those things?” I sniffed at them and was quickly forced to swallow back the drool that almost immediately filled my mouth.

The sunflower-hued mare favored me with an amused smile. It was not any sort of malicious expression, but it put me off slightly all the same; because it felt a lot like the sort of look a mother would give to a young foal who was asking about some common and mundane topic like clouds or trees. “They’re apples,” she answered warmly before turning back to examine a trough full of bristly plants with little purple flowers.

“Really?” I cocked my head in mild surprise. “Huh. I never expected red fruit to make yellow juice.”

Daisy paused and looked back at me again with a bemused expression. “...Have you…never seen a fresh apple before?” Her magic had grasped several of the purple flowering plants and was drifting them into my bags as well, roots and all.

My ears folded back as I frowned at the mare. I knew she wasn’t trying to make fun of me, but that didn’t change the fact that I was feeling pretty self-conscious right about now. “...No. The vending machines in the megasilo don’t sell them.” I added the last bit with something of a reproachful look, which did prompt a slight wince from the other mare.

“Right. Sorry.” She flashed me a small apologetic smile, which was followed up by an amused snort and a tiny shake of her head. She cast her gaze at the garden around us. “I’ve gotten so used to this place, I kind of forget what it’s really like in Light City.”

“Yeah, about that…” I looked briefly around us again too for a moment before returning my attention to the other mare. “How and why does a place like this exist? Don’t get me wrong, it’s cool and everything; but Jenny and them give off this whole: ‘fight the corpo elite fatcats’ vide. But then they’re also eating better than Aeriesaka executives!” I waved a hoof at the fresh produce surrounding us. Even a small plate of which I knew would cost hundreds of gibbies.

Daisy chuckled in response, but wasn’t looking too put off by my insinuations of hypocrisy. “Well, for one thing: it’s not like this stuff is really all that expensive. They are just plants, you know?” She pulled up another plant from a nearby trough, showing me the collection of brown growths hanging beneath it. She gave the bushel a couple of shakes to dislodged most of the dirt and then shoved it into my saddlebag. “The price is only as high as it is because…well, that’s what the restaurants want to charge.

“There’s a little ‘supply and demand’ in there, but not as much as you’d think,” the mare continued, nodding her head for me to follow her to another part of the garden. “It’s actually kind of more nefarious.

“Did you have a fridge in your apartment in the megasilo?”

I balked slightly at the apparent nonsequitur. Not entirely sure what one had to do with the other, I hesitantly responded, “...No?”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “The apartment didn’t come with one. Didn’t need one, really. There was a vending machine built into it that you could get ready-to-eat meals and drinks from. Everything from breakfast bars to dinner loafs.”

Daisy was nodding along as though she’d already known the answer I was going to give, which she almost certainly had. I may not have known exactly what the other mare’s own living situation was, specifically―she wasn’t living in the loft with the rest of the band like I was―but I doubted that it was too different from what mine and Hash Stack’s had been. She did live in Haywood after all. “Exactly. You have a vendor, and not a kitchen.” She briefly peered over her shoulder and I gave a nod of agreement. “Which means you don’t cook for yourself or have to worry about leftovers. You get your meals from the building. Like most of Light City.

“I bet it was a ‘Vend-O-Mat’-brand vendor too, right?” Another nod from me. “Care to name another brand of vendor you’ve seen? Or even heard of?” She paused and waited for me to answer, but it was pretty clear from the smile on her face that she knew I was going to come up empty, and I did. “There isn’t one. Every apartment in every building in Haywood, Trotson, and Santo Dingo is furnished with a ‘Vendo-O-Mat’-brand food vendor and no kitchen or refrigerator.

“Fewer than ten percent of the city’s population lives in an apartment with a kitchen,” she went on even as her attention was redirected to collecting narrow green pods from several viny plants. “If a creature wants fresh vegetables, they have to go out to eat. And every restaurant in Light City is supplied by one of two corporations: YummyTummy Inc. and GoodEats LLC. If you’re a street vendor or run some little quick-eats dive on the corner, you only get to do business with YummyTummy, and they only offer heavily processed swill. Honestly, it’s not much better than what you get in your apartment. It just gets served to you in a reusable bowl instead of a vacuum-sealed plastic tray.

“Meanwhile,” she turned back around and stuffed the pile of pods she’d collected into my pack before leading me over to a planter featuring balls of green leaves sprouting out of the ground, “GoodEats, which actually does deal in ‘real’ food, will only work with ‘sufficiently upscale’ establishments in order to ‘keep up their image’. If you’re not a members-only cafe in City Center or Westhoof, you don’t get to work with them. But they’re also the only company that has distribution rights for fresh produce.

“So if you want an apple, or a carrot, or a fresh salad,” Daisy turned back around, levitating two heads of freshly harvested lettuce with her talisman, smiling knowingly at me. “Your only option is high-end restaurants with a waiting list. Places where they’ll charge you a hundred gibbies for a bowl of greens worth, like…two? Though, to be fair, the cafes aren’t the ones seeing the real profit margin; that’s still GoodEats.”

I frowned―and swallowed down more drool as I watched the heads of lettuce get stuffed into my bags. “But wouldn’t GoodEats make even more money if they sold vegetables to everycreature, even if it was at a lower price? Hash Stack used to talk about ‘scale economies’?”

“Economy of scale,” Daisy corrected gently, “and that’s a different thing.” She motioned for me to follow her as we turned around and began to ascend towards the underground garage’s exit. “You’re not wrong though! GoodEats could make more money by appealing to a larger customer base. But! Do you really think Vend-O-Mat is going to give up their customers that easily? After everything they did to work with architects to omit kitchens from ninety percent of the apartments in the city?! Who’d buy one of their ‘Nutri-Bars’ if you could get an apple for the same price?

“Meanwhile, who’s going to buy lettuce if you can’t keep it from wilting after two days?” I had no answer for any of the mare’s questions, but it was pretty clear that she’d known that when she posed them. “Those companies divvied up their customer bases a long time ago, and they don’t want to risk upsetting their profit-margins by getting genuinely competitive with each other. They save a mint on advertising by not having to actually attract customers away from a competitor. To say nothing about not having to R&D better products. They just have to worry about printing money.”

We paused at the garage’s exit, and the repurposed attendant booth that was located there. Daisy withdrew a small wad of gibbies from her jacket pocket and passed them to the pegasus stallion working the till. “See you next week, Blue!” The two exchanged waves and then the mare led me back onto the empty streets of this ‘abandoned’ section of the city.

“Okay, I guess I get it,” I murmured, though I knew I sure didn’t like it. “But so then what about that Green Room at the concert hall or whatever? Don’t tell me that place is meant for concert-goers.” I narrowed my eyes slightly at the mare, daring her to suggest that I was wrong.

She didn’t, instead offering another mirthful chuckle. “Hardly. Aside from the band and…” she briefly looked back at me, “special friends, we mostly serve high-ranking corporate executives who have certain expectations of service.”

It took the mare a few seconds to realize that I wasn’t walking with her anymore. I’d frozen in my tracks when I heard what she’d said. When she finally did notice and turned around to find out what was wrong, I was incredulous. “Wait. You mean Jenny and them invite corpos to that place? What the fuck?!”

The eye roll I received from Daisy wasn’t quite patronizing. I didn’t think. “Of course they do. Who do you think hires them―and groups like them―for most of their underground gigs?”

“They work for the corporations?!”

This time my outburst was met with a resigned sigh from the mare. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this: but gearing up for their ops takes money, and a lot of it.” Daisy pointed out to me before she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Remember that last op you did with them? Did you count how much money you paid for that truck you guys ‘borrowed’? What about the forged IDs? Harriet’s good with computers, but she’s not a genuine forger; that part had to be ‘outsourced’.”

I was frowning again, but this time it was directed inward. I hadn’t actually thought about that. There’d been a lot of groundwork laid for that mission into Aeriesaka, and it obviously had to have some cost associated with it. To my knowledge, the band hadn’t been doing that mission for money either. It had been undertaken solely on principle in order to help out creatures like me who’d lived in those megasilos under the hooves of thugs like Grinder.

Which wasn’t to say that it didn’t still seem weird that Jenny and the others were still taking work―and, by extension, ostensibly helping―the very corporations that they decried; in both their songs, and to my face. Daisy seemed to be reading my mind though, and had an answer. “So, yeah, they work with the corpos…against other corpos.”

Now I was confused again. “I thought you just said the corporations maintain some sort of truce with one another so they don’t compete?”

“Not in Light City they don’t, no. This place is mostly ‘neutral ground’,” the mare agreed. We were once more trotting down the street towards Haywood. “Light City is where many of the big players in the world have their headquarters located; but they operate all over the world. And the gloves really come off out there. Like, big time corporate espionage and sabotage and stuff.

“However, in order to engage in all that sabotage, the corpos need intel on each other. And, since Light City is where most of them keep their HQs…” The earth pony trailed off and looked over at me, prompting me to finish her statement.

“...This is the best place to get that intel,” I concluded, nodding along. “But something tells me that the ground won’t stay ‘neutral’ for very long if one of the corps catches agents from another corp breaking into their offices…”

“Exactly!” She beamed at me. “Enter: the Edgetrotter!”

“That what?”

“Edgetrotter,” Daisy repeated, her grin not losing any of its luster. “Creatures that ‘trot’ on the ‘edge’ of society and do all those under-the-table jobs that corps don’t post on their ‘help wanted’ pages.”

“...Did you make that term up yourself?” I asked with a raised brow and a not-at-all judgmental smirk.

The mare stuck her tongue out at me before descending into a fit of giggles. “I think it’ll catch on,” she insisted. “Anyway…yes, Jenny and the others take jobs for the corps for the preem gibbies they offer. I know you’d think that somecreature as principled as The Silverhoof would rather suck off her gun than help some crystal tower types, but keep in mind that their target is more often than not other corps. She actually gets quite the kick out of helping them fuck each other over and getting paid for the pleasure of doing it.”

“I guess I could see that,” I said with a shrug. I guess it wasn’t quite as hypocritical as I’d first thought. It still felt weird picturing Jenny playing nice with some GlimTech exec though. I idly wondered if she was the type to wear a suit or a dress? Assuming that she even dressed up at all. Honestly, that was the hardest thing to picture: Jenny ‘cleaned up’. I knew Dandy was capable of looking professional though. Daisy had been quite the piece of eye-candy herself during my first visit to the Green Room.

I idly wondered how Gerry would look if he wore a proper suit…

The wolf-whistle that issued from behind us interrupted my musings; and the follow-up cat-call cemented the souring of my mood. “Dammmmn! Call the LCPD, because it has got to be a crime for two fine mares like y’all to be walking along…unescorted.”

“Oh, fuck me…” I heard Daisy mumble through an exasperated sigh as we turned around to see who it was that had accosted us.

“Well, if you insist!” A burly brown hippogriff stallion said with an amused laugh. He wasn’t alone either, I realized with a note of dread. Three other creatures were flanking him: two more hippogriffs and a pegasus, all stallions…and all of them wearing matching colors blended into their clothing. They were part of a boosterherd, I realized. I couldn’t identify which one, I’d rarely been outside of Haywood, and I certainly hadn’t had much reason to travel to Clawcifica until recently. “I was thinking we could get to know each other a little first before we got to the good part; but if you want to cut to the chase, I’m game if you are…” The lead hippogriff’s smile was entirely too predatory for my liking.

Without even realizing I’d done it, I found myself standing protectively between Daisy and the herd members. Somehow, despite my own fear, I was even managing to maintain what I felt was an intimidating glower. Not that I saw any sign on the faces of our winged assailants that they felt the least bit intimidated. If anything, they actually looked even happier about my defiance.

“Ooh, looks like we got a fighter here!” The sage green pegasus crowed. He even dared to flutter closer to me, hovering just out of reach of a punch. “I like fighters. I like seeing the fight leave their eyes when they finally realize they can’t stop what’s coming…” In spite of the brave front I’d been trying to affect, I wasn’t able to keep myself from taking a half-step back, which only earned another snicker from the stallion.

“The one in back seems a lot more like the quiet type,” one of the other hippogriff stallions observed before exchanging a look with his partner, with whom he shared an uncanny resemblance to. “I bet I could make her get pretty loud…”

“I don’t like ‘em loud,” his familial-looking counterpart replied as he also eyed the mare behind me. “But I got something that’ll keep her quiet!” The hippogriff gave a not so subtle thrust of his hips. His remark earned some additional laughter from the other three stallions as well.

“We don’t want any trouble!” I heard myself say. I was pretty grateful that all of my limbs were arcanetic now; it meant that it was easier to keep them from shaking. I only wished it was as easy to keep my words that steady too. I’d sounded a lot less unimpressed with these four boosterherders than I’d intended to, and they’d quite obviously noticed given how much they were all laughing at me now.

“‘We don’t want trouble!’” The lead hippogriff parotid between fits of derisive laughter. “That’s great, because we don’t want trouble from you either.” I took another step back as I saw the other three winged stallions move to encircle us, doing my best to try and cover Daisy in spite of the obvious futility. I could only be on one side of her, after all.

“Now why don’t you two play nice and come with us?” He continued, directing a wing down a nearby alley. “If you behave, we’ll let you go…eventually.” Another round of snickers echoed from all directions. “Depends on how soon the rest of the boys can come on by for a go at you…”

I briefly entertained the notion of casting clairaudience and signaling to Gerry and the others that we were in trouble. Not that I expected it to do us a lot of good in the short-term. There was no way that the rest of the band was going to get here in time to stop the herd from subduing us and dragging us back to…wherever. Daisy and I weren’t likely to get out of this unscathed, but if I called them now we at least had a good chance of ultimately surviving…

My thoughts were distracted by a series of ‘popping’ sounds coming from nearby. I turned my head slightly to find Daisy cracking her neck, muttering to herself, “...this is what I get for wearing my favorite jacket…” Then the earth pony noticed my gaze and flashed me a wry smile that was devoid of any hint of worry. Her eyes then darted briefly to the pegasus stallion nearby. “Think you can take that one? I’ll get the other three.”

None of that was said with any hint that she meant it to go unheard by the stallions. All of whom balked for a brief moment as they exchanged confused looks. Clearly they didn’t feel that Daisy was reacting ‘appropriately’ to the situation at hoof. Frankly, I found myself in agreement with them on that point, but I somehow managed to nod along in response to the mare’s question. I was pretty confident that I could handle one stallion in a fight. But was Daisy really serious about taking on the three hippogriffs on her own?

Before I could ask if the little earth pony mare was sure, she answered my question for me.

Without another word, Daisy reared up on her hind legs and clopped her forehooves together. Her talisman burst to life with orange light. As she drew her hooves apart again, I noticed that her frogs seemed to be joined together by a glowing ethereal tether the same color as the magic emanating from her talisman. Her lips were spread apart in a hungry grin. The earlier jovial radiance in her emerald eyes was gone, replaced now with a darkness that formed a knot in my gut just looking at it.

This was not the same mare I’d just been speaking with five minutes ago.

I could only assume that the brown hippogriff leader of this small band was entertaining similar thoughts when Daisy lashed out at him with her right hoof. The ethereal string disconnected from her left frog and whipped out towards the now thoroughly shocked stallion, the glowing cord wrapping itself snuggly around his left wrist.

The sunflower mare twisted her hips to the right, pulling on the translucent tether.

The wet smack of the severed hand hitting the concrete was the loudest sound that I’d ever heard in my life. Everything seemed to remain quite still after that for what felt like a small eternity. All eyes were riveted on the disembodied talons and the smoldering wrist that they were attached to. Then, slowly, I saw the brown hippogriff’s wide eyes slowly pan up towards his fresh stump, his beak moving in soundless shock. I saw him take in a sharp breath, as though to scream…

He didn’t get the chance.

Daisy’s left hoof lashed out this time. It too spawned a glowing arcane whip which struck at the hippogriff with an audible snap of sound as it shot through the air. The end wrapped itself two times around the gaping stallion’s neck before he knew what was happening…and then the earth pony mare twisted once more on her hooves, completing her turn to the right and coming down with her back fully towards the lead hippogriff.

I wasn’t sure what hit the ground first: his head, or the decapitated body.

As though either one hitting the pavement had been the signal the rest of us had been waiting for, chaos erupted a heartbeat later. I lost track of Daisy when the pegasus stallion tackled me to the ground. All thought of the other mare vanished from my mind as I suddenly found myself fighting for my life. A hoof connected with my jaw, and I could feel my new arcanetic joints doing their best to resist being dislocated like their organic predecessors had been a week ago.

I responded by coiling my hind legs and unleashing a double-buck right into the feathered stallion’s gut, again grateful for the recent augmentations that I’d received. My arcanetically enhanced hooves slammed into his gut and I could see the other pony’s eyes go wide as he let out a pained gasp. His wings swept down and propelled him up into the sky, out of reach of any follow-up hit that I might have wanted to land. However, the distance he’d afforded me did give me the opening I needed to draw my weapon from where it had been tucked under my vest. I levitated out the pistol Gerry had provided me with and leveled it at the pegasus.

My shots went wide as the stallion rolled to the side and dove once more. I could feel my teeth grinding in frustration as I found myself unable to land a hit on the fast moving target. In fairness, most of my practice up to this point had been with stationary targets. I wasn’t used to trying to shoot at things that were moving around. At least the pegasus didn’t seem to be armed, so I wasn’t in danger of being shot myself.

The pegasus swooped for the ground in what seemed like an effort to outpace my aim, but my talisman’s magic managed to keep the green blur in my sights. His wings flared out and brought him to a near total stop just above the ground, which I recognized was my opportunity to finally get a clean hit. I lined up the floating pistol and peered down the sights…

And promptly froze.

Just beyond the stalled pegasus, I spotted Daisy in motion on the ground as her ethereal whips ensnared one of the two remaining hippogriffs. She was almost directly in line with the barrel of my gun. If I fired now, I knew I risked striking her too. I had just long enough to see a brief flash of Hash Stack’s anguished expression in my head before I felt another hoof slam into the side of my head.

I lost focus on my talisman and its magic flickered out, dropping the pistol I’d been holding with its telekinesis. Somehow I managed to stay on my hooves though, which seemed like quite the accomplishment given the situation. I reared back and instinctively threw up my forelimbs to block follow-up punches from my attacker. However, the pegasus didn’t continue to strike me from the front, instead he whirled around through the air and bucked me in the side of my barrel. I did get knocked all the way to the ground this time.

He was stradling me again, his hips on either side of mine as he pinned me beneath him. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t hear anything through the sound of the blood throbbing in my ears. The stallion’s lips were moving though, so I knew that he was saying something to me. Probably some inane description of exactly how he intended to violate my body after beating me into unconsciousness. I saw him cock his right hoof back in preparation to begin his presumably promised beating.

Then I saw glowing golden threads wrap around his fetlock.

When he threw his punch, his hoof did not travel with the rest of the swinging limb. Instead, it dropped beside us on the sidewalk. The stallion didn’t even seem to notice at first. Indeed, he initially seemed only mildly confused as to why his punch had not managed to connect with my face, and instead only splattered it with copious quantities of blood. He slowly raised the problematic hoof and stared at the gory stump with the puzzled expression, as though he were trying to work out where he’d misplaced the hoof that he was certain had been there earlier.

Rung though my bell had been by the early successful punch the pegasus had landed, I was not quite so far gone as to not recognize that I’d been granted an opening I could ill-afford to pass up. He still had my hindquarters pinned beneath him, but my own forelimbs were free, so I took a swing at his face with my own right hoof. Seeing as how my own limb was still wholly intact, my punch had little issue connecting with the other pony’s jaw. The hit managed to succeed in rolling the stunned stallion off me.

I immediately scrambled after the pegasus, not keen on giving him another chance to recover and take to the air again where he’d have the advantage over me. I threw myself upon the stallion like a madmare. There was no style or form to my fighting. I wasn’t formally trained in any type of martial arts. I simply threw hooves and bit at whatever came near my mouth. The two of us were a writhing mass of sage and golden limbs. Patches of fur and tufts of feathers littered the ground around us, dislodged either by gnashing teeth or the scraping of our bodies along the rough concrete we were wrestling on.

Halfway through the melee, I realized that the ‘red haze’ I was looking through as we fought wasn’t my own rage, but blood which had flowed into my eyes. It was even money whose blood it was at this point. It started to cloud my vision so much that most everything I was seeing appeared as little more than a blur.

Eventually, by virtue of my having more functioning hooves than the pegasus now did, I managed to finally achieve dominance in the fight, and soon I was the one straddling him and raining down a flurry of blows. However, unlike when the pegasus had been atop me earlier, he had no companions who came to his aid, and so nothing impeded the flaying of my hooves upon his face. I felt the impact of each blow vibrating up my forelimbs as I struck. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to, but I set the feeling aside for the moment. I had to win this fight.

I had to survive.

The stallion’s forehead-mounted talisman flared to life as the boosterherder attempted to summon a cantrip of some sort to his aid. I might not have been able to see much, but I could make out the magical glow which appeared directly in front of me, and I recognized it for what it was. My hooves fell upon it, arcanetic musculature and joints putting all of their enhanced power into the blow. Grinder had ‘gifted’ me these limbs years ago with the intent that I would use them to strong-hoof struggling creatures into forking over ‘protection money’. I’d never used them for that purpose. I’d honestly never availed myself to their advantage at all since receiving them.

I did now though.

I brought them down onto the pegasus’ head with every last pound of force that those artificial limbs were capable of, planting my hooves directly onto that talisman. I felt the faceted jewel shatter beneath the blow…and then I felt my hooves continue downward through it. Bone gave way to my blow just as easily as damp cardboard might have, the stallion’s skull imploding like an egg, and leaving just as much of a mess upon my hooves.

Suddenly the stallion wasn’t moving anymore. I didn’t fully comprehend why in the initial moments. I was simply too relieved that the fight appeared to finally be at an end and that I was safe. A limb that was trembling with adrenaline and muscle fatigue wiped its way across my face, removing much of the blood which was in my eyes. I furiously blinked away the last little bits of crimson fluid and finally surveyed the aftermath of my struggle with the stallion.

I immediately retched, which only added further to the horror of the gory scene before me as the remains of my breakfast splattered onto the mushed bones and brains which were all that existed above the green pegasus’ muzzle.

Looking away from the nauseating sight did me no favors either as I only ended up turning my head just in time to catch Daisy dispatching her last remaining opponent. The hippogriff had already lost numerous bits and pieces of his body to the earth pony mare. It looked as though he’d been about to flee the fight as well, clearly recognizing that no victory could be salvaged in the face of such a monstrous opponent like the little red-maned pony. However, he was unlikely to get far: Daisy’s ethereal cords were presently wrapped tightly around the stallion’s midsection. His wings gave a mighty flap in an attempt to escape her grasp.

Daisy threw her hooves out to either side.

His torso was carried nearly ten whole meters, borne away by two complete strokes of the hippogriff’s wings before it appeared that his brain became aware that it had left everything below his diaphragm behind and elected to react as it felt it should, and finally die. The feathered half of the hippogriff bounced off of the nearby brick wall of a building with a wet slap, leaving behind a crimson and pink splotch. The pink, I soon noticed, was the result of bits of intestine which were sticking to the bloody smear. I retched again.

I very nearly wiped at the corners of my mouth before realizing that most of my forelimbs were still coated with the pegasus stallion’s blood and mashed up brain matter. That recognition very nearly compelled my stomach to fully secede from my body as I collapsed into a fit of dry heaves. I wasn’t ready for this level of violence. Who could be?! This was…was…

I didn’t know, but it certainly had to be something that no sane pony was comfortable with!

That thought finished forming in my mind as Daisy calmly lowered herself back down onto all four hooves. Her talisman dimmed until it was dark once more, all signs of the glowing tendrils which had been affixed to her frogs earlier now gone. The little earth pony idly brushed her mane back into place, straightened her neon pink jacket, and finally turned around to face me.

I watched in stunned silence as the little yellow whirlwind of carnage that I’d seen lay waste to three grown hippogriff stallions vanished…and was replaced once more by the affable earth pony who never seemed to be without a warm smile on her face. Only, now, I felt that I was able to spot the hollow affectations that lay just beneath the expression’s surface.

She took note of my battered and bloodied face and her expression immediately became one of concern. “Ooh, that looks like it stings; are you alright?”

She reached out for me and I instinctively recoiled away, and not just because I had a bad association with other pony’s hooves coming near my face. I knew these hooves in particular to be especially dangerous, after all. I saw the brief flash of hurt behind Daisy’s emerald eyes and she withdrew her hoof, instead using it to awkwardly rub her shoulder.

“...Sorry you had to see that.” The mare idly glanced at our surroundings, and cringed slightly as she seemed to recognize how unsavory they’d become thanks to the copious quantity of dismembered appendages littering the sidewalk. “And all of this…” She waved a hoof broadly around us.

Now it was my turn to feel awkward. It was stupid, I realized, to be afraid of the mare who’d likely just saved my life; to say nothing of my ‘virtue’. She’d hardly done anything strictly wrong, least of all by me! I was just…taken aback, was all. Not by somepony I barely knew saving my life―sun and moon, that was becoming a tired trope for me by now! But, Daisy…

I wouldn’t pretend that I knew the mare well, but I’d at least thought that I’d had a decent read on her based on our past interactions―as brief and as few as they might have been. In my mind, the little earth pony had been the pretty mare who made delicious food and served us drinks. She wore a warm smile and a cute black dress and was always kind to me. She wasn’t this rough-and-tumble brawler that could almost single-hoofedly lay waste to a whole boosterherd the way Jenny or Barkly could. She was…sweet. I needed a sweet mare in my life, since the last one…

…Since I’d gotten the last one killed.

Not that Hash had turned out to be a helpless damsel either, I ruefully noted to myself. What was it with everycreature I knew turning out to actually be some sort of hidden badass? I idly wondered if Gary, the griffon bartender I’d known for years, wasn’t also some variety of professional brawler who just looked and acted like an ordinary creature…

“It’s alright. I’m glad you were here,” I assured the other mare. “You just…surprised me, is all. I had no idea you could do…this,” I gestured vaguely at the carved up bodies that surrounded us.

A small smile appeared on Daisy’s cheeks again. “Well, in fairness, I guess we were never officially introduced.” The mare did have a point, I conceded. She once more reached her hoof out to me, but this time in a clear invitation to a friendly hoof bump. “Hi! My name’s Daisy Cutter, and I’m not just the crew’s cook,” she said with a wink.

I touched her hoof perhaps a bit more gingerly than I otherwise might have with anypony else. But, in my defense, I had just seen her summon strands of pure arcane death from the bases of those same hooves. I felt I was justified in giving them the same careful respect that I would any other potentially dangerous implement.

“...I’m also their accountant!”

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 9: Rebound

“So…”

I glanced up at the sunflower yellow earth pony mare sitting across the table from me through my right eye, as the left one presently had about a half dozen ice cubes wrapped in a towel pressed against it to try and get the swelling to finally go down. Neither of us had touched our orders of noodles that the waitress had brought out along with my improvised ice pack. Nor had we said a word to each other since sitting down at the little Trotson cafe, other than Daisy asking the waitress to get us “whatever the special here is and some ice for my friend.”

Honestly I wasn’t feeling very hungry, in spite of the fact that my stomach was presently quite empty. Visions of our recent encounter walking back from Clawcifica were still vividly fresh in my mind, and doing a superb job of keeping any semblance of an appetite at bay. I felt my other hoof tensing up on the table as another flash of blood and gore flickered through my mind. I glanced down at it, and jerked suddenly in a fleeting moment of shock when―for just a moment―I could have sworn it was still coated in the brains of that pegasus stallion. I took a deep breath and closed my good eye, doing my best to suppress those intrusive visions and force them from my mind.

“...How are you holding up?” Daisy finally asked, though her sympathetic tone suggested that she already had a pretty good idea of what the answer was.

“Better than that fucker’s skull,” I immediately quipped, trying to muster up a satisfied smirk to flash at the other mare. It didn’t last all that long and then I was feeling sick again. I pushed the bowl of noodles a little further away from me to help stave off my nausea. Noodles had been a poor choice.

The golden earth pony wasn’t buying my bravado though, it seemed. She leaned across the table slowly and reached out a hoof towards mine. At least I didn’t pull it back so hard this time that I fell off of my stool. It still withdrew slightly though before Daisy could manage to give it a light touch with her own. My mind still insisted that it was dangerous to let the mare touch me, considering what I’d just seen those hooves do less than an hour ago. I took another ragged breath, but it still didn’t seem to help much.

“It’s okay to not be okay with what you just went through,” Daisy gently insisted, not taking her emerald eyes off of mine as she spoke. Her hoof rubbed slowly over mine in an attempt to comfort me from the other side of the table. “It doesn’t make you weak.”

“I think just about getting my flank handed to me by one pegasus is what makes me ‘weak’,” I retorted with a snort, glancing away from the earth pony. I couldn’t meet her gaze without seeing how cold and empty those eyes had been during the fighting. It chilled my gut just thinking about it. “I only beat him because you―” I’d very nearly said ‘disarmed him’ for the sake of the pun, but I tasted bile at the memory and ultimately couldn’t go through with it. After swallowing back the bitterness in my mouth, I finally said: “...helped.”

Daisy craned her head to try and look me in the eye again, and so I closed it this time. “He was stronger, faster, and more experienced at fighting other ponies than you. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to fight him on your own. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.

“Jenny told me you were a tough mare; I thought that meant you could handle yourself in a fight. I misunderstood what she meant and that was my bad.” I felt her hoof leave mine and make contact with my cheek. I tensed briefly, but ultimately allowed her to guide me back into meeting her gaze and opened my good eye back up. She was smiling warmly at me. “But I see what she was talking about now.

“The first thing you did when those thugs showed up was put yourself between them and me. Trying to protect me when you thought I couldn’t defend myself. That was very brave; especially when you clearly knew you wouldn’t be a match for them. You instinctively put yourself on the line for somepony else. Not many ponies would do that in this city.”

I frowned at the little yellow earth pony. “...Jenny told you I was ‘tough’?” I asked, dubiously.

Daisy nodded, obviously intending to stand by her unlikely claim regarding the donkey’s alleged opinion of me. “She told me about how you volunteered to help them get Grinder. Said that, if she were in your place, she wasn’t sure if she’d have had the guts to walk into a whole warehouse full of boosterherders unarmed, trusting that she’d be rescued just in the nick of time. Especially knowing that Grinder was just as likely to shoot you as talk with you. It took a lot of guts; she was very impressed.”

I was silent for several seconds as I digested the second-hoof praise that―again, allegedly―had been offered up by the gruff and rough-edged jenny who led the group. I was of the mind that Jenny Silverhoof entertained plenty of opinions on my competence and abilities. However, I was finding it hard to believe that any of her opinions of me were in any way flattering. “Jenny said that.” Daisy chuckled at the clear skepticism in my words. “You sure you didn’t mean ‘Gerry’?”

Daisy giggled at that. “Gerry had good things to say about you too,” the earth pony assured me. I found that I had to bite my tongue on my desire to ask the mare what ‘good things’ the griffon had said about me, specifically. “But Jenny was also impressed. Yeah, she’s not super great at being all touchy-feely,” she admitted, earning a chortle from myself, “but I promise that you earned her respect when you tried to do right by Hash. That was no small thing to her, believe me.” Her tone was much more sober and sincere-sounding as she mentioned the pegasus’ name.

My own mirth died too at the reminder of my former friend and roommate. I was having trouble meeting Daisy’s eyes again. “...It was the least I could do. I’m the reason she―”

“Nope.” The earth pony shook her head fervently. “That wasn’t your fault. Not even a little.”

“I blocked her shot―!” I tried to insist, but Daisy clearly wasn’t having it.

“Did you do it on purpose?” Was her response. Obviously, I denied it. Of course I hadn’t been trying to interfere in the fight. “Then it wasn’t your fault! Firefights are messy, and chaotic, and there’s no way you could have known how it was all going to play out.”

“Hash told me to stay down―” I tried to protest again; and again the other mare waved aside my attempt to shoulder responsibility.

“She wouldn’t have taken that shot even if you had stayed down,” Daisy insisted, further explaining upon seeing my unconvinced expression. “Hash wasn’t a gun novice. She knew exactly how unpredictable bullets can get after they hit, like, anything. If she knew that you were behind whatever cover she was aiming at, she’d have hesitated even if you’d stayed down.

“Hash wasn’t going to fire.”

“...I’m the one who shot her.” I said meekly. I didn’t need Daisy’s look of exasperation to know that I was making a fool out of myself trying to take the blame for my friend’s death. I’d been trying to save my friend. Even I knew that much. My inexperience with firearms was at play, to be sure, but would I honestly be sitting here and insisting I hadn’t had a hoof in Hash’s death if I’d simply sat there and watched her get gunned down by the hippogriff? I’d absolutely have been beating myself up over not picking up Grinder’s gun and trying to help her.

Which would have just put me right back where I was.

As though she were able to read my thoughts and recognize that I’d finally acknowledged the point she had been trying to make, Daisy nodded. “You weren’t in the wrong, Pel. You were in a bad situation and a friend tried to help you. Hash chose to put herself in the situation that she did.

“Just like you chose to help recover her body. Which, again, was an incredibly brave thing you did.” The smile was back on her cheeks. “Just like an hour ago when you were ready to take all the hits for the ‘defenseless little mare’ who brought you salads.” Daisy said the last with a playful little poke of her tongue out from between her lips as she perfectly guessed how’d I’d viewed her prior to that morning.

I wouldn’t pretend that my conscience was fully unburdened by the earth pony mare’s assurances and praise. It was unlikely that anything would ever convince me that I could be absolved of being the one who ultimately fired the bullet that ended Hash Stack’s life―intentionally or not. That was going to be something that I would carry with me for the rest of my life. But…it was helpful to hear that my subsequent actions had been appreciated by those who’d known my former roommate. Especially when it turned out that they’d known her so much better than I apparently had.

That last thought evoked a small frown as I once more considered how little I’d known about the pegasus’ life. To say nothing of my broader ignorance about how Light City was apparently being managed by the megacorps, or even how my own boosterherd had been in the employ of one such corporation. The revelations about the startling level of my ignorance were becoming almost painful. It was hard for me not to just conclude that I was simply an outright moron for not being aware of what so many others had apparently known for years, if not their whole lives. I couldn’t help but feel small. Insignificant. Worthless.

What was I even still doing with this group? I didn’t honestly think that I was going to be able to meaningfully contribute to what they were doing, did I?

My despondence must have been pretty evident, because Daisy was looking concerned again, her hood still gently rubbing along my own. “Hey…look at me.” It was a difficult command to follow, but I somehow managed it. The mare’s emerald eyes were filled with what looked very much like genuine kindness. “What’s wrong?”

“I mean…it’s not like I actually did anything any of those times,” I countered bitterly. “Jenny and them actually killed Grinder and the others and recovered Hash’s body,” I pointed out, “I just got beat to a pulp. Kind of like earlier,” I added, gesturing at my swollen eye. “You didn’t actually need my ‘help’, that’s pretty obvious, even to me. My being around didn’t make a difference. So how ‘meaningful’ were my actions, really? If they didn’t actually contribute to anything?”

Daisy’s reassuring expression faltered briefly, clearly taken aback by my assertion. She recovered quickly though and once again placed a reassuring smile on her face. “I promise you that intending to help matters, and it matters a lot.” I was about to protest, but the earth pony cut me off with a firm squeeze of my hoof. “It does!” She insisted vehemently, gaining my full attention now. “Being determined to help is the first―and perhaps the most important―step, and it’s one that’s incredibly hard to teach. Creatures are slow to change their nature, except under the most extreme of circumstances.

“Meanwhile, learning skills that give somepony who’s already motivated to do so the ability to help in a meaningful way can be far more easily taught,” the earth pony beamed. “Give me a month, and I’ll have you tossing donks like those around like they were hoofballs!”

I’ll admit, I did chuckle at the image of a little mare like myself suplexing a hippogriff twice my size, like I was one of those wrestlers in the vids. I was skeptical, yes, but I also was willing to let Daisy try to teach me how to protect myself. Though I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to bring myself to fight exactly like how the earth pony did. She’d left quite the mess on that sidewalk…

“In my opinion, ponies like you are way better than creatures who actually have the skills and talent to contribute, but have no interest in doing so,” Daisy continued, apparently missing my shudder as I once more revisited the memory of the fight’s aftermath. “Creatures like that are genuinely ‘useless’. Jenny would tell you that too.”

“Thanks. I guess,” I offered to the mare once I’d calmed myself again. “Doesn’t mean that I still don’t wish I had those ‘skills and talents’ now…”

“They’ll come with time. Nopony’s born able to buck flank without breaking a sweat,” Daisy pointed out. “We all have to start at the bottom. Some of us just have more friends willing to give us a leg up than others. Take Jenny, for example.” I quirked a brow at the other mare, earning a more mischievous smile from her. “Oh, yeah; she wasn’t always the ‘Silverhoof’, you know? There was a time when she needed her cherry popped, just like you did!”

“I beg your―w-what?!” I sputtered, stiffening up in my chair and wondering if it was possible for my arcanetic jaw to flush like my former organic cheeks were able to.

Daisy balked, cocking her head in clear confusion for a few seconds upon seeing my reaction to her statement. Then her own eyes went wide with comprehension and the little earth pony started cackling loud enough to draw attention from the diners at nearby tables as well as a few passing creatures ambling down the sidewalk. “Your job ‘cherry’!” Daisy finally managed to get out between snorts after she recovered from her fit of mirth. “You know, going on your first edgetrot? Taking down a street herd or a dirty megacorp?” The mare chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, that last one was kind of redundant…

“Anyway, my point is: that you’ll get better at this as time goes on. It’s silly to compare yourself to us when we’ve been doing this sort of thing for years, and you’ve only been with us for a week.”

I nodded, feeling myself relax once more in my seat. As I digested the other mare’s words, my gaze fell to my hoof on the table that Daisy was still gently rubbing. I winced as a brief flash of memory assaulted me, making me perceive it as still being covered in blood and brain matter. It wasn’t a long-lasting vision, but it was enough to make me suddenly withdraw my hoof and attempt to wipe it off on my jacket…which wasn’t exactly particularly clean at the moment either. I was left momentarily debating what to do with my hooves in the awkward silence that followed.

“...I’m not so sure I want to get ‘better’ at this sort of thing,” I admitted to the mare, unable to help but feel a little ashamed by the admission.

The other mare’s features fell in a look that suggested she was feeling no small amount of heartache. At first, I believed that she was disappointed in me for expressing my reluctance to become more adept at aiding their cause. However, her tone proved that wasn’t the case at all. “I already told you: it’s okay not to be okay right now.” A wan smile started to creep its way across Daisy’s lips. “And, personally, I think it’s a good thing that you don’t like what happened this morning. Both what those donks tried to do to us…and what we did to them.”

The earth pony idly glanced down at the frogs of her hooves and favored them with another sad quirk of her lips before folding her limbs in front of her on the table. When she spoke again, it was with no small amount of regret coloring her words. “The more blood you get on your hooves…the easier it is to excuse getting them even bloodier. You start to think to yourself: ‘eh, I’ve gone this far; what’s one more dead donk?’.

“You stop feeling like taking a life is a serious matter. You find yourself wondering how many more lives you’ll take before you finally flatline. You wonder how low the threshold will get that determines when you’re willing to take those lives. And…you wonder if it’s a bad sign that you’ve never been able to stick to a hard limit for that last one.”

The quiet that settled over our table was deafening.

I swallowed. “So…how do you feel about what happened?” I asked.

Daisy was silent for several long seconds as she studied her hooves. Then she shrugged and looked back up at me. “Eh. What’s four more dead donks?” The sham of a contented smile that the little yellow earth pony mare favored me with was as hollow as her suddenly glossy emerald eyes. It was a look that formed a cold pit in my stomach. I couldn’t help but avert my gaze, desperately wanting to look anywhere else that wasn’t Daisy’s face.

At first they went to my, as of yet, untouched bowl of noodles. The knot in my gut didn’t react well to the sight of the food, and I found myself almost feeling nauseous. I nudged the bowl aside so that I could instead just start at the surface of the table. The two of us didn’t say anything further for nearly a full minute. I was eventually compelled to say something when even the smell of our meal started to upset my stomach further.

“I’m not feeling very hungry. Can we go back to the loft, please?”

Daisy nodded her head. “We can go, but not straight back to the loft. There’s one more errand we need to run.” She must have seen me grimace at the thought of risking further encounters with unsavory donks who might accost us and followed it up with: “Don’t worry; it’s in a safer part of town. It’ll be quick too. I just need to pay for something that Jenny ordered.”

“Okay,” I relented, slipping off of my stool and waiting for the other mare to take the lead. It wasn’t like I knew where we were going, after all. Daisy counted out a few gibbies and left them on the table, then she started down the sidewalk, pausing only for a brief moment to make sure that I was following her. She was doing a much better job of looking genuinely content now, but I still wasn’t quite comfortable meeting her gaze.

I couldn’t shake the look I’d seen in her eyes just then: the look of a mare who’d killed so many, that the act of taking a life had lost all meaning for her now.

Daisy hadn’t been pitying my revulsion at the thought of killing, I now realized. She’d been envious of it.

“You’re going to have to explain to me the story behind how this place got its name,” I said to my guide as we stood outside what I considered to be a rather easily-missed entrance to the bar that Daisy had taken me to for her errand. “Because I’m not seeing a connection between beer and glue.”

The walk through Trotson had done the both of us a lot of good. It had given us time to process our earlier conversation, as well as the bloody events of that morning. Or, at least, it had given me time to process it. As best I could tell, the walk had simply given Daisy the time she needed to reinstate the happy and care-free expression that I’d known the mare for faultlessly wearing prior to today. While it was more than likely that her features were as lively and inviting as they had been when I’d first met the mare, I still couldn’t not see how shallow that same facade had seemed to me earlier. I lamented that I might never be able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy seeing her smile again.

“Oh, well there’s not,” the earth pony informed me, earning herself furrowed brows and cocked head. Her giggling sounded genuine to my ears at least as she gestured for me to follow her down the stairs. “The bar is in the basement of what actually used to be a glue factory. It never had a ‘proper’ christening that I know of. Its founding was very…organic,” the mare explained.

We finally reached the bottom of the staircase, now standing well below street level. A griffon was leaning against the wall by a pair of double-doors, eying us critically. When Daisy finally stepped into some better lighting, the feathered feline’s expression softened almost instantly and he nodded his head towards the door. The earth pony mare flashed him a brief smile and a nod of her head in his direction. “‘Morning, Guy.”

“DC,” the―I assumed―bouncer replied.

“The factory got shut down a long time ago after it was accused of using…” Daisy’s timely pause wasn’t just for the sake of opening the doors with her talisman, as it was clear that she was mulling over how she wanted to phrase the next part. “‘Creative materials-sourcing practices’ I think I remember one headline reading,” she eventually finished, sparing me a knowing look.

I flashed the earth pony another confused look, and received a sour expression from the other mare in turn. “Let’s just say that there’s a reason they set themselves up across the street from a Triple-C. Saved that place a mint on their cremation costs, I bet.” I was pretty sure my face blanched completely, despite its mostly synthetic construction, as the implication of the mare’s suggestion finally set in. Despite my best efforts, I spied no indication that the earth pony was simply messing with me for the sake of her own amusement.

My shock and revulsion―I was beginning to doubt whether I’d ever have an appetite again at this rate―were so complete that I was entirely oblivious to the fact that we’d attracted the attention of a nearby creature who had apparently overheard the subject of our conversation. I very nearly jumped to the ceiling when I heard a stallion say: “Allegedly” right beside me.

Now Daisy was giggling again. Once she saw that I wasn’t about to bolt back through the door, she directed my attention towards the new arrival, who I was now able to identify as a batpony stallion. A very nicely dressed batpony stallion too, I noticed. He was sporting a maroon crushed velvet vest stitched with gold over a white shirt. A deep blue ascot was tucked in snugly around his neck. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have pegged them for a corpo executive. Whatever his style of attire might have suggested though, there was no mistaking the stallion’s expression. He was confident, yes, but he most certainly didn’t come off as arrogant, like all of the ‘real’ suits did. But this was most certainly a pony who’d ‘been around’ the streets of Light City and come out the other side alive and well.

All of that to say: even I knew that this was not a stallion to fuck with.

The new arrival spared a few seconds to exchange a pleasant smile with Daisy before he finally turned his topaz eyes on me. I could see the unasked question on his face as he again looked to the other mare to introduce ‘the outsider’, and likely justify to him why I had been brought in here in the first place.

“Rouge, this is Pel,” the earth pony began. “She was a friend of Hash’s that Jenny brought into the fold. She’s helping us out now.” Daisy then turned to me and indicated the batpony. “Pel, this is: Baton Rouge. He basically owns The Glue Factory.” The stallion bowed his head in acknowledgement. “He’s also the preemest fixer in Light City, and a longtime―” The earth pony cleared her throat before lacing her next words with no small amount of innuendo. “...friend of Jenny’s.”

For his part, the batpony whose coat was so dark in color that it glimmered with a purple sheen―though I supposed that could have been a trick of the many low-intensity colored lights in the bar―merely rolled his eyes and turned his attention towards me once more, extending his hoof. “Enchanté, Mademoiselle Pel,” I tentatively raised my own hoof and let the stallion take it. Much to my surprise, the batpony bowed his head and lightly touched his lips to my pastern. I assumed that my arcanetic cheeks were indeed capable of flushing, as I heard Daisy doing a poor job of stifling a giggle from where she stood next to me.

“For the record,” the batpony said after raising his head once more and releasing his hold on my hoof, “There was never a proven link between Fixation Fixatives and the nearby Critical Care Clinic.”

“Regardless,” Daisy said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “the factory closed down. It wasn’t long after that that some foals started coming around and sneaking into the basement to do some drinking and drugs and whatever. Eventually that evolved into some ponies smelling an opportunity coming around to sell those foals alcohol and drugs out of that basement.

“Soon after, it wasn’t just foals coming down to do the buying and drinking. Eventually, everycreature in the neighborhood had heard that, if you wanted to have a good time, you needed to go to: ‘the old glue factory’s basement’. That was later shortened down to just: ‘The Glue Factory’ by the locals,” the earth pony finished, matter-of-factly.

I nodded in understanding before looking back at the batpony. “So were you one of those early ‘opportunity smellers’?” The phrasing of my question earned me a chortle from Daisy, and an amused grin from the stallion.

“Non, I’m not from that far back,” he admitted. He then flashed me a brief pout, feigning some obvious offense. “But thank you for implying I look that old…” Daisy’s chortle escalated into an outright guffaw this time. I tried to quickly stammer out a correction, but the batpony’s expression morphed into a wide grin and he waved off the attempt. “It’s fine,” he assured me, “please, let us have a seat.” His eyes darted to Daisy. “I imagine this is not purely a social call?”

The tone was questioning, yes, but it seemed that it was only so by way of confirmation. Daisy had mentioned earlier that she’d had an ‘errand’ to take care of here, and I could only assume at this point that it involved the proprietor of the bar. As we were guided to a semi-private booth on the far side of the bar so that the others could conduct whatever business it was that they had, my own mind finally started to process on all cores again after getting flustered by Rouge’s sudden appearance.

It was only now that I realized that I had heard his name before. It was honestly hard not to run in the same sort of freelancing circles that I’d only just skirted and not hear about ‘The Bat’. Granted, I hadn’t really known all that much about them beyond their handle, and that they only dealt with the cream of Light City’s…erm, ‘independent contractors’, let’s say. A month ago, I’d have half-jokingly remarked that Hash Stack was probably counted among those ranks. Given how Daisy had introduced us just now, I doubted very much that that would have actually been a ‘joke’. I had just been introduced to another of Light City’s big-league players who knew my former roommate.

A dark cloud settled over my thoughts as I was once again reminded of just how little I’d really known about the pegasus I’d been living with. How much of her life she’d kept hidden from me. Not that I thought I’d been entitled to know everything about the mare just because she let me have a bed at her place. It just…it was really frustrating to know that I’d been so blindingly ignorant of how close I’d been to this larger world. Was I really just that much of a brainless idiot that I hadn’t managed to catch on to Hash being involved with a legendary fixer? To say nothing of her connection to an apparently rather well-known rock band and their quest to undermine Light City’s corporate overlords?

How was I supposed to be any kind of asset to these creatures when I was apparently that fucking clueless?

Rouge, ever the gentlecolt apparently, gestured for the pair of mares he’d been escorting to seat themselves first before joining us at the table. I then saw the garnet gemstone embedded in his head alight briefly just before a sapphire in the center of the table started to glow. In that same moment, I noticed that the background din of other bar patrons talking, laughing, and drinking, as bar patrons were wont to do, became substantially muted. It was almost like my ears had filled with water. To the point that I actually tried to ‘dig out’ the offending sensation with my hoof. Which earned me an amused look from the other two ponies at the table.

“Sound dampening enchantment,” Daisy informed me as I once more flushed with embarrassment and lowered my hoof, finding myself idly hoping that the enchantment also made me unobservable to other bar patrons.

Rouge merely smiled, reveling in my awkward shifting for a few more seconds before returning his attention to the far less ignorant of the two of us and apparently deciding that it was time to actually get down to business. I noticed his eyes dimming slightly as they lost some of their earlier mirth. Whatever it was, I didn’t get the feeling that it was great news. “I suspect you’re already aware that we acquired the…item.” The last word was said only after the stallion favored me with a cautious look.

I did my best to suppress a frown at the idea that I was being nominally ‘excluded’ from the true nature of the conversation, despite nominally being a part of Jenny’s crew as much as Daisy was. More or less, anyway. I mean, I acknowledged that I was still the ‘Fucking New Mare’ but Daisy had just finished telling me earlier that morning how much my contributions had been appreciated up until now.

Granted, I supposed that there was no reason that Rouge should know how deep I’d been brought into the fold; so I wasn’t going to begrudge the batpony being circumspect in the interest of protecting his client’s interests. Daisy could always fill me in on the details later.

The yellow earth pony mare nodded. “We saw the news reports, yeah. Obviously there were some complications. Anything serious?”

My gaze darted back towards the stallion. There were only a couple of news stories worth mentioning that I’d heard about in the last couple of days. One was obviously what was happening with Elysium as a result of the revelations that Dandy had made on his news segment and their imminent bankruptcy. I was plenty familiar with the details of that event. Certainly more so than would have been heard about on the news, given the ‘inside track’ I was a part of in that regard. The other big headline item was the break-in at GrimTech. On that, I knew quite a bit less.

Something told me that I was going to learn a little more in the next few minutes though.

“There was a fatality,” Rouge replied with a somber nod.

Daisy’s expression clouded just as much as the batpony’s had and she briefly bowed her head. “Who was it?”

“Buckeye.”

The mare let out a quiet curse under her breath. “Damn. He was a good colt.” The stallion nodded in solemn agreement. Another moment of silence, then, “I know his aunt. I should reach out. See how she’s holding up. Find out when the service is.”

“I can pass you those details if you’d like?” The batpony offered. Daisy was shaking her head though.

“Nah. Thanks, but I don’t reach out as often as I should anyway,” the earth pony admitted. “It’ll be good to call her and catch up.” Another brief pause as a wan smile touched her lips. “You know I did a couple ops with Buckeye a few years ago?”

“I remember,” Rouge nodded, adopting a slightly warmer smile of his own as the pair settled into reminiscing about ‘the good old days’. “You actually introduced him to me. Then I introduced him to Tracer.”

“Right, yeah…” Another moment of quiet reflection, and then the mare took a deep, cleansing breath, and apparently decided that it was time to set aside reflecting on the past and return to present business. “So…payment and delivery then?”

“Delivery is being arranged, per Jenny’s instructions,” Rouge assured her. His topaz eyes flickered and glowed briefly. “Here’s the account information.”

Daisy’s own emerald eyes were likewise glowing as she received the magical transmission from the fixer. “Got it…transmitting…done.” Both ponies’ eyes dimmed once more. A look from the batpony and a flicker of his talisman was all it took for the booth’s enchantment to come to an end, and my ears were once again filled with the sound of scores of reveling bar patrons. “Pleasure doing business as always, Rouge.” She favored the stallion with another smile, this one far warmer.

The batpony excised himself from the table and extended a polite hoof to help the earth pony out of her seat. “De rien.” As he’d done with me, he took her hoof and gave her pastern a chaste peck, much to Daisy’s obvious delight, judging by her giggle. “The pleasure, as always, is entirely mine, ma belle fleur.” He flashed the other mare an inviting smile as he spoke in what I could only describe as being a ‘purr’. “Perhaps your next visit here will be for…pleasure?”

“Perhaps…” The earth pony replied with a playful wink of her eye. She then glanced back in my direction and leaned in towards Rouge, saying in a stage whisper that I was clearly meant to hear, “Should I bring a friend?”

Now the stallion was smiling in my direction as he offered me that same helping hoof out of my seat. I found that it was quite difficult to meet the batpony’s gaze as he kissed it a second time. “I insist! One can never be entertaining too many pretty mares…”

Daisy’s sniggering seemed to confirm that, yes, my arcanetics did, in fact, allow for visible blushing. Great. I managed to mutter out a ‘thank you’ to the stallion and shuffled behind the earth pony. I’d like to have insisted that I wasn’t ‘hiding’...but that would have been a blatant lie. Getting attention from stallions was nothing new to me, but it had almost always been in the form of cat-calls and crude innuendo. Things that I’d learned to easily brush off with a snort and a roll of my eye. This sort of attention was very different, however, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

Mostly because, unlike being propositioned by random thugs on the street corner, I wasn’t actually repulsed by Baton Rouge’s comments…or the stallion himself, come to think of it. If anything, I wouldn’t have minded hearing more. Yet, at the same time, I found myself very much of the notion that he was mostly teasing me. After all, the batpony was one of the most famous and important stallions in Light City, as far as those trotting in our circles were concerned. In contrast, I was a nopony. If Rouge wanted a romantic liaison, I knew that he had to have way better prospects than some naive little street filly. Case in point: the very mare that I most assuredly wasn't―quite―cowering behind as I tried to unflush my cheeks. Daisy was exactly the type of mare that I’d expect a stallion like Rouge to make an actual pass at: pretty, capable, and―as I’d recently learned―had quite a well-established reputation in this community.

I, on the other hoof, was nothing.

“...But that must wait for later,” Baton Rouge remarked with a tone that suggested he almost felt genuinely remorseful. “As they say: a bad pony’s work is never done. Please, stay and enjoy a few drinks ‘on the house’.” He waved towards the bar. A mutual flicker of his eyes and those of the mare tending bar just before she turned and nodded in our direction made it clear that he’d just cleared us for a few complimentary beverages. He shared another nod with the two of us before trotting off.

Daisy flashed me a smile and a questioning look as she nodded her head towards the bar, silently asking if I felt like having a drink. While I hadn’t possessed an appetite earlier―and honestly still didn’t feel like eating―the thought of a strong drink held some appeal for me. So I nodded and let her lead me over to a pair of vacant stools.

“Drinks?” The mare behind the bar asked.

“A Brain Dance for me,” Daisy began and then paused as she cast an aside glance in my direction.

“Whiskey double on the rocks,” I supplied to the bartender.

The earth pony stuck out her tongue and quivered in a show of mild disgust. “Ugh! Straight liquor? Why do you hate your mouth so much?” Her tone suggested a mixture of amusement and pity. “Mixed drinks are where it’s at, filly. All of the alcohol, none of the aftertaste!”

She stuck her hoof out as if to block me from the barpony’s view. “Ignore her. She’ll have a Sunburst.” I shot a sour look in the earth pony’s direction but elected not to overrule her correction, instead sighing and nodding my head in confirmation. It’s not like it was the taste of the drink that I cared about most, so long as it was strong and helped to take the edge off from this morning.

Our drinks were produced in short order. Daisy’s was a tri-layered concoction of blue, green, and purple liqueurs, it looked like. Meanwhile, my own drink consisted of deep red at the bottom, transitioning to yellow at the top. I had to admit that these were much more colorful, and even smelled much better, than what I’d usually ordered from Gary by the megasilo. It still tasted strong though!

I let out a long sigh and lightly shook my head, a little smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be sipping drinks in Rouge the Bat’s bar―” My comment was rather rudely interrupted by a spit-take from the mare sitting next to me, followed quickly by a rushed apology in the direction of the bartender and a series of laugh-filled coughs.

“Did you just―?” Daisy looked around us quickly to check if we were being overheard and then leaned in close to me. “Do not call him that where he can hear you,” she warned me in a hiss, despite her obviously amused smile.

“What? But I thought that was what creatures called him―”

“Not in polite company, it’s not!” Daisy still sounded far more amused than incredulous. “Who did you hear call him that?”

I squirmed in my seat, feeling decidedly uncomfortable knowing that I’d managed to finally make the faux pas I’d been pretty sure I was going to in a place like this. “...Grinder.”

“Okay, well that makes sense then,” the yellow mare acknowledged with a resigned shake of her head. “For future reference: do not call batponies ‘bats’, got it?” I hastily agreed to her recommendation and the earth pony secured a towel from behind the bar to clean up the mess she’d made, all the while wearing a sardonic smile on her face. “Even from beyond the grave, that piece of shit’s trying to get you into trouble…” she lamented.

“Anyway, I believe you were dwelling on your turn of fortune?”

I furrowed my brow. “Is that the right expression?”

“Maybe,” Daisy shrugged. “I’m using it regardless. But go on,” she urged me with a wave of her hoof.

“Right…” I eyed the mare dubiously, though a small smile was tugging at my lips all the same. “I was just going to say how much things have changed for me in such a short period of time. I never thought I’d be bumping flanks with such important creatures. I mean, can you imagine? A pony like me, talking with the Rouge?”

“The word ‘talking’ is doing a lot of heavy-lifting there, I think,” the other mare teased with a delicate poke of her tongue from between her lips. I winced, acknowledging the truth to the comment. Then the earth pony’s own demeanor shifted slightly to a less amused expression. “But what’s that supposed to mean: ‘a pony like you’?” Daisy asked, casting a critical eye in my direction.

“You know: a pony that isn’t important.” The answer came so easily and without even a moment’s hesitation, since I knew that it was the truth. However, it became immediately clear that the mare sitting beside me didn’t particularly care for that response at all.

“Who ever told you that you weren’t important?”

My first reaction was to laugh at the absurdity of the question, since Daisy had clearly been making a joke. Ponies like me didn’t need to be explicitly told that we weren’t important. After all, that was simply the default. Everypony wasn’t important until they became important. You earned your notoriety and status as a pony that was actually worth anything.

Until that happened though, you were just another donk flailing about in obscurity. Just like I was.

Then Daisy hit me over the head with a statement that called everything I thought I’d known into question: “Hash Stack thought you were important.”

It was like my whole body had just been plunged into one of my old roommate’s ice baths. Every thought I’d just entertained in the last few seconds suddenly had me feeling extremely guilty for even having it. My mind instantly flashed back to Hash Stack fluttering in to sit beside me at the cafe, knowingly delivering herself into the trap that I’d been used to bait her into. She’d placed herself in very real mortal peril in order to save my life. The pegasus hadn’t needed to do that. Leaving a worthless little filly like me to die would have been the smarter choice.

…Unless I hadn’t been ‘worthless’ to her.

Now I was faced with a rather uncomfortable mental dilemma: did I disparage the memory of a dead mare who was important to me by insisting that she’d thrown her life away uselessly? Or did I validate that sacrifice by acknowledging an implied opinion of me that I couldn’t bring myself to agree with?

While I didn’t want to disparage the memory of Hash Stack to somepony who clearly had known the mare a lot better than I ever had, I also wasn’t ready to agree with the assessment. “...I never did anything that should have made her think that.”

“Hash Stack didn’t think you were important because of anything you’d done,” the earth pony countered. “She believed in what you could someday do, because of who you were. Specifically: a pony who was willing to put themselves at risk to protect others.”

I frowned at the other mare. “I never did anything like that!”

“Hash Stack told me you refused to beat up the other residents in your megasilo for the ‘protection money’ that Grinder was collecting for Elysium. Even though you knew that you’d get punished for it. She said she was pretty sure he’d even threatened your life, and you still wouldn’t do it.” Daisy smiled wanly into her glass, her eyes growing distant. “You should have heard the way she gushed about you. She talked about you a lot.”

There was a very pregnant pause. Then, “Don’t ever say you’re ‘not important’.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Eh, it’s not really your fault,” Daisy assured me with an anemic shrug of her shoulders. “Growing up in a megasilo, living from one meal to another, never seeing any light at the end of the tunnel with hope that life will get easier one day? It’s easy to feel like you don’t matter. Believe me, I know.

“This whole city is built to sow those feelings of despair into creatures like us: the ones on the bottom rung,” the earth pony went on. “This society doesn’t function any other way: A psychopathic few standing on the backs of the more empathetic many. That’s easier to accomplish if those of us actually capable of caring about our fellow creatures believe that we’re ‘destined’ to stay on the bottom.”

I raised a brow at the other mare. “Calling the higher-up corpos ‘psychos’ is a bit over the top, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” Daisy insisted with a snort. “That’s exactly what they are: creatures devoid of empathy. And they built a system designed to keep themselves in power. Better creatures, like you and Hash, get filtered down to the bottom where they can’t become a threat.”

She must have noticed my rather dubious expression, because the earth pony chuckled to herself and nodded, uttering words that did indeed very closely match what I was thinking. “I know, I know, I sound like a nut, don’t I? Clearly just some sour grapes because I’m slumming it in The Glue Factory and not sipping top shelf cocktails at the top of Aeriesaka Tower, right?

“Well, let me ask you: how many meals do you think Grinder skipped because he was strapped for cash?” The question was clearly rhetorical, though Daisy did let the question hang between us for a good second or two so that I could digest the obvious answer before she continued. “And as bad as he was, do you think he was so messed up in the head that he could have conceived of a plan to extort nearly a million already-struggling creatures in order to pocket some extra gibbies? Or would that have taken an even more depraved mind?

“Heck, how about the mind that came up with the idea of making millions of creatures entirely dependent on Vend-O-Mats for a fundamental basic need, like we talked about earlier? Does that sound like a mind that cares how hard that makes life for less prosperous creatures in the city? And what about the execs running FF.Inc? Isn’t it also weird that the same corporation that created the arcanetic implants that poison our bodies also owns the company that’s the only producer of the potions that keep those implants from ultimately killing us? Implants that are basically essential to getting by in the city we’re trapped in?”

As much as Daisy did sound like she was raving by now, there wasn’t any particular point that she’d made which I could think of a way to refute. Even that last one. Yes, technically there were ways to leave the island and move away from Light City, but a ticket on an airship wasn’t cheap. To say nothing of finding a place to live after leaving. A creature would need tens, if not hundreds of thousands of gryphusbits to have a hope of setting themselves up off the island. And nocreature I knew from the megasilos was going to be able to save up that kind of scratch in their lifetime.

“Let me pose a hypothetical,” Daisy went on, sounding like she was changing tacks. “Say you owned a business―a bar,” the earth pony gestured to our surroundings. “And your bartender came up to you one day and said they were struggling to get by and needed a raise. What would you do?”

This time the mare paused long enough to make it clear that she was waiting for me to give her a real answer. Caught off guard, I was forced to stammer my way through one. “I-I would give them a raise, I guess?”

“Even if it meant you’d have to cut into your own earnings?” Daisy posed, eyeing me critically.

“I own a whole bar, I’m probably doing pretty well,” I pointed out with a roll of my eyes. “I’m certainly not living in a megasilo, I bet. I assume I’d still be okay.”

The other mare flashed me a vicious grin. “But the bartender’s only ‘struggling’,” she countered. “And if you pay them more, you’ll never be able to afford buying a second bar. Or a third. Heck, if you keep lowballing your employees’ pay, you’ll eventually be running a city-wide franchise of bars and be living in a penthouse downtown. You’d really give up having millions just so an ‘unimportant’ bartender could live a little more comfortably?”

“I don’t need ‘millions’. I’m happy with just eating three times a day,” I snorted. “I’m certainly not going to force anycreature else to live like I was so I could have it easy. I know what that feels like.” I closed my eyes against the memories of my mother’s anguish. There was no way I could bring myself to have a hoof in doing that to others. Whether that was directly through extortion, or by withholding raises to hypothetical employees.

“Exactly,” Daisy nodded. “You empathize with them. You actually care about others. You’d want them to have their fair share of the earnings from the bar, because you’d know those earnings came from their hard work just as much as yours.

“Those high-up corporate execs don’t feel that way though. They wouldn’t piss on you to put out a fire. They sure as shit wouldn’t pay you an extra gibby and hour so you can afford to eat anything more than nutri-bars. Having more money than they could hope to spend in ten lifetimes isn’t enough for them,” Daisy all but spat.

I thought back over my mother working multiple jobs simultaneously, and how the two of us had still struggled. I thought about every other creature in that megasilo who was almost certainly in the same boat. Then I thought about those high-level executives flying over the city to sip coffee more expensive than a month’s worth of vended meals.

My hooves tightened around my drink. Fortunately I realized how angry I was getting and what I risked doing before it was too late and released my hold on the glass. I let out a deep sigh and felt my head sulk. Getting angry about it wasn’t going to change anything. Besides, even if I recognized how fucked up the city was, what was I going to do about it? For that matter, what was the alternative? Daisy had been right earlier when she pointed out that rotten creatures were the ones who were going to end up rising to the top, because those with purer hearts wouldn’t even think to play for power and control in the first place.

That much I voiced allowed to the earth pony. “If we’re fighting against just the way creatures are, then what’s the point? You can’t fix that.”

“Who says you can’t?”

I frowned, looking over at the other mare, only to find her grinning back in my direction. Her talisman lit up and I saw that I’d received a prompt for a file transfer. Tentatively, I accepted the request. As the transfer was executed, the earth pony explained what she was sending over. “Gerry told you about the data cache that Hash Stack found a while ago, right?” I nodded. “Well, here’s one of the files she was able to successfully decrypt.”

The download completed and I examined what Daisy had sent to me. The name of the file read:

JOURNALOFFREINDSHIP.BOK

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 10: Extraction

“―So you’re going to want to use your magic to put pressure here, here, and…right here,” The gold and ivory griffon tiercel’s talon gently plucked at the strings running along the neck of the guitar that I was very awkwardly cradling in my hooves. I focused the telekinetic magic of my talisman onto the points that Gerry had indicated, manifesting small motes of light along the indicated fret. The band’s guitarist craned his head over my shoulder to evaluate my efforts. My magic briefly flickered when I noticed that his cheek was little more than an inch from mine, but I ultimately managed to maintain my focus. Barely.

“That’s good,” Gerry assured me, apparently completely oblivious to my sudden tension. “Now, just take your hoof and brush the tip over the hole there across all of the strings in a downward motion.” I did as I was instructed. I didn’t have anywhere near the same ear for music that my instructor did, I was sure, but even I could hear that the sound wasn’t as rich as it should have been, suggesting I hadn’t gotten things quite right. Gerry at least had the decency not to wince at the soured fruits of my effort. Instead, he nodded his head appreciatively and simply said, “Okay, that was a little too hard. Try it again. Just lightly brush your hoof over the strings.”

I nodded and gave the chord another attempt, letting the tip of my hoof drag over the strings with barely any pressure. This time the sound that was produced was noticeably clearer and more pleasant. The griffon's beak spread out in a broad smile as he patted me on the back. “There you go! A classic G major chord, the bread and butter of any aspiring guitarist.” It was hard for me not to smile back in return. As simple as it had been, I did feel a little accomplished, thanks to the tiercel’s praise. “Now try it again.” I repeated the motion, this time with a little more confidence. The sound was even richer this time.

“Okay, now let’s keep repeating it in time with this.” He set a hand on the chaise lounge’s rest and started lightly tapping a claw on the wood, creating a clicking sound that served the purpose of a metronome. My ears flicked as I picked up on the steady beat of his talon, finding that my head was lightly bobbing along, my hoof hovering just above the strings of the guitar. Eventually, I took the plunge and began to strum my hoof over the strings in time with the griffon’s tapping, producing a steady sequence of―nearly―consistent-sounding chords.

After about a dozen or so beats, Gerry stopped his tapping and brought his clawed hands together in a light applause. “Very well done, Pel; we’ll make a musician out of you yet!”

I let out an anemic little laugh, letting the guitar sag in my grip. “I don’t know about that.” I glanced at the springs running along the instrument’s neck. “I can barely play that one chord, and there’s got to be, what? A thousand?” I idly glanced at the strings stretched across the length of the guitar and tried to briefly calculate all of the possible combinations of positions along it. I wasn’t that good at math though.

The griffon chuckled. “There aren’t quite that many,” he assured me. “But, I mean it: you’re halfway to playing songs already.” My dubious look at his allegation earned me a waggle of his brows. “Oh, yes; I’m serious! I’ll have you playing a for-real song in less than five minutes at this rate.

“I’ll prove it,” he gestured for me to reclaim the hold on the guitar that I’d been in earlier and I did so. Though I did not lose my understandably disbelieving expression. I’d seen the band’s performances. There was absolutely no way that Gerry was going to be able to get me to do what he did on stage in ‘five minutes’. But I was still quite curious to see where the tiercel was going with this.

“So, you know the G major chord. Now I’m going to show you a C major chord. Another really easy and basic one that songs use all the time. Put pressure here, here, and here.” He marked three slightly different points on the fret and I obediently applied my telekinesis to the indicated positions along the three strings. “Good. Now strum just like before.”

I did so, and was pleased to note that I managed to produce a pleasantly clear sound on my first try. As before, Gerry had me repeat the process several more times to ensure that I could maintain consistency.

“Alright, now you know all the chords you need to play a song,” the griffon declared. “It’s just a matter of playing them in the right order at the right pace. Go back to the G chord.” I hesitated briefly, drawing a complete blank on where I’d been applying my magic only a couple minutes ago. Fortunately, Gerry was accommodating enough to tap out the positions with a claw. Once more I found myself feeling rather dubious at the prospect of being able to play a song when I couldn’t even manage to retain information for thirty seconds. I was pretty sure I’d even already forgotten the C chord he’d just shown me.

“Now, give it four downward strums in time with this,” and he started to once more slowly tap his claw on the wooden rest. I did as instructed and he nodded. “Now, swap back to the C chord…like that, yes. Now, you’re going to start with an up stroke, then two downs, two ups, and a down.” This took a few tries to get right, but Gerry remained quite patient with his student as we took it slow several times before finally managing to get the chords strung together at a reasonable tempo.

“Alright, back to G and we’re going to put them together. Like this: down, down, down, down―swap to C―up-down, down-up, up-down.” I stumbled awkwardly through the transition between the chords on the first few ties, but nailed it on my fourth, earning another approving pat from the griffon. “Excellent! Now, just keep playing that segment over and over again: down, down down…” I nodded and once more started from the top. I acknowledged that, while it was certainly a very simple melody, it did sound pleasant enough to be debatably called a ‘song’, I supposed.

Then Gerry surprised me on my second run through the chords when he started to sing along to what I was playing.

“Love, love me do.

“You know I love you.

“I’ll always be true…”

The griffon reached out with his hands and pantomimed holding a guitar of his own. He made sure that I was looking at him as he strummed his air-guitar in a repealed motion while still holding his other talons in the C chord position he’d shown me. A little confused, I managed to imitate the simple gestures which seemed to be little more than simply going up and down repeatedly on the same chord.

“So plea-ea-ea-ease…”

The griffon executed a signal with his talons which pretty clearly indicated for me to stop playing altogether, which I did, if with a little hesitance, thinking that I’d done something wrong. Gerry nodded and held the signal for just a few seconds before he gestured for me to resume playing while he finished out the verse.

“...Love me do…”

The band’s guitarist waited for me to finish out the last few notes of the G-C chord sequence he’d taught me and then performed another round of applause as he grinned broadly at me. He then mimed glancing at his wrist. It was a gesture I knew was commonly associated with checking the time, but I’d always found it a puzzling one, since you always had a clock hovering in front of your vision all of the time thanks to some of the perpetual illusions produced by our arcanetic implants.

“Four minutes and seventeen seconds,” the griffon announced, still favoring me with a wide smile. “See? I told you I’d have you playing songs in less than five minutes!”

I was working very hard to hide my flushed expression. I wasn’t entirely sure what was making me blush more: the griffon’s praise, or the fact that it felt like he’d just serenaded me! Which wasn’t to say that I’d found it to be a thoroughly unpleasant experience, but…

“Alright,” the griffon’s abrupt words snapped me out of my reverie as his talons once more started indicating strings along the neck of the guitar, “now we’re going to go over a D major chord. It’ll amaze you how many more songs you’ll be able to play just swapping between those three in one sequence or another.” The tiercel chuckled to himself. “Honestly, it feels like half the songs ever written are made up of just four chords―”

Gerry was leaning―not uncomfortably close―over my shoulder again to show me specifically where to apply my magic along the frets when both of us became aware of the sound of somepony barging into the loft. Or rather, more accurately, somedonkey. Frankly, I probably didn’t need to have actually looked up to recognize that it was Jenny who’d come in. The band’s lead singer had become quite easy to identify from her hoofsteps. She was the only one who stomped around the place like she was in a perpetually bad mood. I hadn’t known her long enough to be certain, but from the vaguely worried looks I was noticing on the faces of the other members of Hussar, I suspected that this was something of a recent development.

That expression was on Gerry’s face now as he turned his head towards the new arrival. “Hey, Jen; what’s up?”

“Meeting with a Jack in the Green Room in fifteen.” Silverhoof replied tersely. “Referral from Rouge.” The griffon nodded and started to stand, but froze when the donkey shook her head. “No, you stay.” Then the jenny did something that apparently shocked both me and the griffon in equal measures: she turned to me and pointed with her arcanetic hoof. “You; come.”

I blanched. As new as I was to this whole scene, I knew enough of the relevant lingo to recognize that Jenny was talking about meeting with a client about a paying job for ‘extra-legal activities’. Daisy had explained to me how, in spite of Jenny’s distaste for the city’s wealthier strata, she dealt with them as a way to gather funding to run their counter-corporate operations. This was going to be one of those times, and this meeting was likely where Jenny would be learning the details of the operation that she was being asked to take part in. Having to ‘play nice’ with the very creatures she loathed might have helped to explain why the donkey was in a sour mood at the moment, I supposed, but what it didn’t explain was why she wanted me there, of all creatures. Surely it would make more sense for her to have somecreature there like Gerry or even Dandy who knew what they were actually doing and how to act around corporate contacts that wouldn’t risk screwing the whole deal up right out of the gate.

I turned to regard the griffon, trying to find out if this was making any more sense to him than it was to me. It was immediately clear from his features that he was no less confused than I was. Though this brief moment of hesitation on my part didn’t seem to help the donkey’s mood any. “The fuck you looking at him for?” Jenny didn’t quite snarl, but it was a near thing. I winced. “He doesn’t make the calls, I do; and I’m telling you that you and me are meeting with a Jack in the Green Room in fifteen minutes.

“You two can get back to doing whatever this is later…” She waved her silvered limb vaguely in the direction of the pair of us as she rolled her eyes and turned away. “But for now you’re on the clock, filly. So get that expensive flank of yours moving!”

I jerked slightly at the reminder that I’d received some quite costly medical help from the group very shortly after first meeting them. While I had been assured that, officially, I didn’t actually ‘owe’ them anything for it, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of ‘indebtedness’ towards the group for what they’d done. I had been the subject of extensive aid and support from the members of Hussar in so many ways. At the same time, I also felt an obligation of sorts to help them where I could as a result of seeing myself as being responsible for Hash Stack no longer being able to. Daisy and the rest could insist all they wanted that I bore no fault in that. It didn’t change the way I felt about it deep down.

So I hopped off the lounge and gingerly set the guitar down with my telekinesis, casting Gerry an apologetic parting look as I trotted out the door after the donkey. She cast a brief look back at me, a neutral expression on her face, and then shifted her gaze forward once more. No words were exchanged until we were just about at the Green Room. Just before we got there, Jenny diverted us through another door.

I briefly blanched when I recognized it from that first night I’d met them: it was the group’s armory. My brain all but locked up at the thought of needing to go into what I’d presumed to be a simple meeting with a corporate contact to discuss a job armed. As much as Gerry assured me that I’d greatly improved in my marksmareship since joining up with them, I was still more than a little hesitant at the idea of shooting somepony.

So it was much to my relief when Jenny bypassed the amassed firearms mounted on the walls and instead sought out a smaller closet near the rear of the room. Inside I saw that there was a small assortment of rather nicely tailored vests and jackets of various cuts and sizes. Jenny pawed through several until she apparently found a couple that were amenable to her, tossing one to me and keeping the other for herself. “Put that on,” she said, eyeing the sleeveless blue jacket that I was wearing. “These bastards look down on us enough as it is.”

I hesitated briefly before nodding my understanding and shucking off my own vest and replacing it with the jacket that I’d been passed. It was a navy blue blazer with some silver trim along the collar and lapels. I didn’t know a lot about fabric quality and such, but I could tell from the feel of the cotton on my fur that this was high-quality fabric. I suspected that this jacket was easily the most expensive thing that I’d ever worn in my life.

Jenny had likewise discarded her own leather vest and was slipping her own forelimbs through the sleeves of a maroon blazer that looked to be of an equal quality. She idly straightened out the golden collar so that it was flush along her withers. Then the donkey took her long mane―which was noticeably less greasy than normal―and deftly wrapped it into a neatish-looking bun, holding it in place with a simple lacquered manepin. Given the simplicity of the steps involved, it was frankly astounding to me how much less the donkey looked like a grungy rockerfilly, and instead was nearly unrecognizable as a properly ‘respectable’ jenny who might fit in without issue in many office settings.

“Ground rules,” Jenny began suddenly as she hung up our usual garments on the recently vacated hangers. “You don’t speak while you’re in there. I talk; you listen.” She took us out of the closet and paused at the weapons racks. This time, much to my displeasure, she did select a pistol from the wall and passed it to me. I was fairly sure that my sour expression betrayed my distaste for the firearm, but Jenny appeared unsympathetic at the moment and passed me a loaded magazine and a holster to go along with the weapon. “Take it. Wear it near your stifle so it’s visible past the jacket. You’re going to be the ‘muscle’, so you need to look the part.”

I took the weapons in my magic and did as I was told. Though not without some reservation. “Wouldn’t Barkly be better at being the ‘muscle’? She looks a lot more intimidating.”

“She’s great at it,” Jenny agreed without hesitation before motioning for me to follow her back out into the hallway. “But this is the best way to get you in the room so you can start learning this side of things too,” she explained. “I can’t just have you sit in there and explain to the Jack that you’re ‘interning’, or whatever. These types don’t like extra eyes on them if they don’t feel it’s necessary.

“After all, most of what they’re going to ask us to do is illegal. The fewer witnesses that can be tied back to them, the better.” The donkey further elaborated. “So having you along to stand at the door and look―” Jenny abruptly paused, in both her speech and step, causing me to nearly run into her backside. She then turned to look me over with a critical eye before she frowned and sighed. She resumed heading towards the Green Room. “Well, I was going to say ‘intimidating’ but, well…having you be there, I guess, is the easiest way to let you see how the haydog is made without raising any eyebrows.”

“Gee, thanks,” I deadpanned.

“Unless Daisy taught you how to make a decent daiquiri?” Jenny asked, apparently choosing to ignore my own comment.

The question proved to be largely rhetorical, as we both knew that I wasn’t being shown around the kitchen much. Apparently ‘bartender’ wasn’t a position I was being groomed to be able to fill within their organization. Though I did find myself wondering exactly what role it was that Jenny wanted me to eventually step into. I certainly wasn’t expected to fill Hash Stack’s horseshoes―thankfully. But a lot of my tutelage seemed to be all over the place, so it wasn’t exactly clear what I was going to be expected to do…

“Alright then. Like I said: no talking. Only standing. Some glowering, if you can manage it. Yeah, just like that.” The donkey quipped with a wry smile of her own before she keyed open the door to the Green Room and stepped inside. As I’d been directed, I slipped in after her and stepped to the side of the opening, positioning myself in the corner of the room by the door like I’d seen club bouncers do.

I noticed immediately that we weren’t the first to arrive. Two other creatures were already in the room. One of them was Daisy, once more wearing her form-fitting black cocktail dress and a broad smile on her lips that I now recognized as being her ‘customer service’ face. She was in the middle of presenting the other being in the room with a tall glass of some variety of mixed drink that I didn’t immediately recognize. The creature in question was a large and broad-shouldered minotaur. There was something almost comical about a massive bovine dressed in a nice business suit sitting hunched over on a couch that was clearly too low to the ground for a creature of his height.

However, I was most certainly not laughing. In fact, I was doing my best not to sweat nervously through my new jacket. Jenny hadn’t mentioned that our client’s contact was a fucking minotaur! How exactly was I supposed to ‘intimidate’ that? He was sitting down and my head didn’t even clear his waist! If things got out of hoof, however unlikely that was, my sidearm would be useless. It’d be more of a threat to him if I found a way to shove it down his throat. At least then there was the possibility that he’d choke to death on it…or at least die of heavy metal poisoning a few weeks later.

Actually shooting him would probably only make the brute angry!

Meanwhile, Jenny hadn’t missed a step. Which was fair, I supposed, since she seemed to be familiar with this particular contact. “Good morning, Cav.” She slipped onto the couch opposite him, making herself comfortable as she lay down on her belly upon it, crossing her forehooves. “And what can I do for Aeriesaka today?”

It was a good thing my eyes were still already fairly wide as a result of seeing who was representing our prospective client, because it meant that it was hard to tell how much wider they got when I found out who exactly that client was. We were taking jobs from Aeriesaka?! While I did understand from Daisy that Jenny put her principles aside regarding her views on the corporations in the city for the ‘greater good’, I was still quite surprised that she’d do so for an organization like Aeriesaka. They were, like, the biggest of the big corporations. It was hard to believe that Jenny would be willing to work with them, even if it meant taking some of their money…

“That’s what I like about you, Silverhoof: you cut right to the chase.” The bull chuckled before downing his drink and placing it back on the tray that Daisy was still holding in her levitation field. “I’ll return the favor.” He slipped his fingers into his jacket and withdrew a small shard of emerald, placing it on the small table between them. Jenny reached out and took the shard, frowning at it before rolling her eyes and tucking it away in her own blazer.

The minotaur chuckled again. “Right. Old habits,” he said, holding up his hands in a shrug before continuing. “The gist is that one of Aeriesaka’s senior techs went missing last night. Out of concern, their HR department went to the tech’s apartment. They found signs of a scuffle. They pinged their tech’s arcanetics and got a location. They’re at a suspected GlimTech safehouse. Aeriesaka would like you to take care of the problem.

“Additional details are on the shard.”

Jenny was silent for several long moments as she regarded the bull. Then, “And how would Aeriesaka like us to confirm that the job is complete?”

That question caught me off guard. I’d have figured that it would be pretty obvious that the job was done, because they’d have their employee back. The minotaur didn’t seem to find it to be an odd request though, given that he appeared to have an answer ready to go, as cryptic as I found it.

“They’ll know,” he said, flashing the donkey a broad grin that rubbed me the wrong way.

Jenny nodded. “It’ll be done.”

“Sooner’s better than later,” the bull cautioned. “GlimTech already caught on to the tech’s locator. It’s unlikely they moved them yet, but it won’t be long before they do.” Another nod from Jenny. “Good. I’ll transfer your pay once I get the word.”

The minotaur abruptly stood up, his horns nearly scraping the Green Room’s ceiling. He glanced around, his gaze drifting from one equine to the next before finally landing on me. The derisive snort that fluttered the gold ring through his nostrils left little doubt as to his opinion of the ‘intimidating muscle’ standing by the door. He smiled down at the donkey. “Always a pleasure, Jen.

“Your latest single’s shit, by the way.” And, with that, he stepped out the door, his hoofsteps vanishing down the hall.

“Like you’d know good music,” Jenny scoffed before turning her attention to Daisy. “Call Harriet.”

The yellow earth pony mare nodded hesitantly before clarifying, “Just Harriet?”

“Just Harriet,” the donkey confirmed as she reached behind her head and withdrew the pin from her mane so that it once more fell down around her face. “We’re not taking the whole crew on this. A safehouse won’t have a lot of guards. Draws too much attention if there are too many suits around. Defeats the whole point of trying to keep those places lowkey. The four of us will be enough.”

It took me a second to realize that the ‘us’ included me. “Wait; hold on, I’m coming? Why me?”

“Because you need practice driving,” Jenny quipped without missing a beat as she raised herself off the couch. “And because you need to see what running a ‘sponsored’ operation is like. We won’t always be the ones setting the terms of the op like with Elysium. Sometimes you have to play by other’s rules, if you want to earn a decent payday for stuff down the road.”

I frowned. “Aren’t you all, like, a famous band or something? Doesn’t that mean you earn money from record sales and royalties or whatever? How is that stuff not ‘funding’ all of this stuff.” I waved my hoof broadly around the room.

“Because record labels and distributors are greedy corporate assholes too,” Jenny sneered. Presumably more at said assholes than myself, though it was me that she was looking at when she said it, prompting me to cringe away all the same. “Which leaves us with enough money to buy food and keep the lights in this place on, yeah; but there’s not a lot left over for prepping our own ops.” Daisy, who I recalled claimed she balanced the group’s ledger, nodded sagely in agreement.

There was a moment of pause, and then Jenny grumbled under her breath at a volume I only barely heard. “...And because Caveat apparently wasn’t the only one who thought our last single was ‘shit’.”

The sound of Daisy suppressing a snigger was drowned out by the timely arrival of the band’s resident keyboardist. Jenny had only just shot a withering glare at the earth pony when the feathered nettrotter arrived on the scene looking like she’d just woken up. The donkey apparently decided that she had more pressing issues than rebuking Daisy for her moment of schadenfreude and turned her attention towards the hippogriff. She dug her hoof into the pocket of her blazer and tossed over the sliver of emerald she’d been given by the minotaur. “We have a job; skim this.”

Harriet frowned at the donkey as her talisman lit up, deftly entrapping the crystal shard in her magic. She spent a few seconds eying the emerald before finally slipping it into the receptacle grafted into the side of her neck. Her eyes took on an orange hue as she reviewed the data it possessed. She glanced over at the vid screen on the wall and it instantly flickered to life. Half of the screen showed a few blocks of the city, with one building in particular being the focus. The other half was a headshot of an older zebra stallion that looked like it had been taken directly from a file photo. Which was likely because that was exactly what it was.

“Kazi Aru,” Harriet said. A second later I realized that the hippogriff mare hadn’t actually sneezed and that was in fact the name of the abducted employee. “Aeriesaka logistics. One of that department’s peons, at any rate,” she went on as she reviewed more the provided file.

Beside her, Jenny was in the middle of discarding her blazer when she paused, briefly narrowing her eyes at the screen, and then snorted and shook her head as she finished removing the tailor jacket. She made no further comment though. She muttered something under her breath, but I wasn’t able to make it out. Much more audibly she said, “And where’s this safehouse at?”

The map side of the screen shifted slightly before resolving into what looked to be a street-view image of the location. “It’s a room at the Lonely Hearts Motel, here in Haywood.”

“Perfect. Daisy, take the filly and go get yourselves whored up real good. I’m pimping you out.”

“Hold on, wait, w-WHAT?!” I managed to sputter out even as Daisy chuckled and started walking my way. I looked frantically between the other two creatures for any sign that Jenny had been yanking my tail, and while they were indeed both smiling, it didn’t make me feel any better. My protests fell on deaf ears though, as Daisy proceeded to drag me out of the room by my tail even as I tried to come up with any plausible reason I could think of to not have to participate in the operation.

“I can’t believe you guys did this to me.”

The mare nearby chuckled from where she was leaning against a street light. At least, I assumed that was the right way to describe what Daisy was doing. Admittedly, I’d never seen anypony ‘leaning’ quite the same way that the little yellow earth pony was. She wasn’t just standing on the corner of the street with her shoulder against the lamp pole. Rather, she was raised up on her spread hind legs, propping her crossed forehooves high against the street light. It was hard for me to even look at her, honestly. Not only was she perpetually slowly swaying her flanks back and forth in a very suggestive fashion, the dock of her bobbed tail was lifted so high up by the ‘clothing’ she was wearing that absolutely nothing was left to the imagination.

Meanwhile, I had pressed myself right up against the wall of the motel that we were casing, since my tail had received the same ‘mare-of-the-night’ treatment. It was creating a decidedly uncomfortable feeling for me. As was the satin saddle strapped over my back. And the lace bridle wrapped around my head. Though, I had to admit that I wasn’t hating the leather boots as much as I thought I would. Those I could get used to. Maybe ones that weren’t so shiny though…

“It’s not so bad,” Daisy insisted.

I narrowed my eyes at the other mare, even though she was looking away from me towards the street. “A stallion just offered you ten gibbies to blow him two minutes ago.”

“And I turned him down,” she said with a firm nod of her head. Then turned and regarded me with an expression of mock offense. “I mean, come on, ten gibbies? I don’t go down on a stallion for less than fifty! I’m not some cheap whore,” she added with a grin and wink before returning her attention―mostly―back to the nearby street.

“I distinctly remember watching you literally tear some stallions limb from limb for cat-calling you…”

Daisy held up a hoof. “No,” she corrected, “I did that because they tried to foalnap and rape us. If the stallion from earlier had insisted I ‘render services’ for his ten gibbies, then there would have been a problem.” I noticed the mare slightly flex her hoof before folding it against the lamp post once more. “But he understood how this whole process works and took his business elsewhere.” She nodded her head further down the street in the direction of the motel.

My eyes involuntarily followed the nod before I remembered why I’d been pointedly looking in the other direction. It wasn’t because of the unicorn and batpony mares who were dressed in a similar fashion to the two of us, not entirely. Though I was wary of drawing their attention. They hadn’t been all too happy with Daisy and I when we’d ‘encroached on their turf’, as they’d put it. They’d since cooled their tempers after realizing that we didn’t appear to be as, erm, ‘competitively priced’ as they seemed to be.

No, I was mostly not looking that way because of the pegasus mare who had been standing among them just a few minutes ago, but had since ducked around the side of the motel with the stallion that had propositioned Daisy and was now only perceptible as a tail periodically flicking just into view.

If only looking away helped with blocking out the stallion’s words of…encouragement? I certainly didn’t feel like I’d appreciate any stallion I ended up with talking to me like that…

I once more diverted my gaze and shook my head. This was shaping up to be one of those nights I would long to forget ever happened.

“How’s our lookie-loo doing?”

I reached up with a hoof like I was scratching something on my neck, casting a fleeting look towards the second floor breezeway of the motel, and the too-sharply-dressed stallion who was propped up on the railing doing a poor job pretending not to ogle the prostitutes below him. “He’s―” I cut cut myself off abruptly as I realized I’d forgotten to engage my own clairaudience spell. “He’s still just staring at your plot.”

“Really wish he’d finally grow a pair and come on down,” Daisy grumbled inside my head even as her sultry little smile never wavered on her lips. “Knock him out in the alley, wait for his partner in the room to come snooping for him, take him out too, and grab the target.

“No muss, no fuss, and nopony’s the wiser.” She let out a mental grumble. “Instead all we’re doing is giving him a free peep show…”

“Speak for yourself,” I snorted back over the link, subtly ensuring that I was still safely backed against the nearby wall. “What do you want to do about it?”

Daisy turned around, repositioning herself on the light post so that she was leaning up against it with her back, her forelimbs stretching high up above her head as they gently wrapped around the pole. She kept her focus directed towards the roadway, but I could tell that she was at least aware of how much attention she was drawing from the stallion that the two of them were quite sure was acting as the lookout for the GlimTech safehouse. “If he won’t come down, we’ll have to go up,” she reasoned. I then noted that another link was added to our little clairaudience call. “Harriet, tell the boss I think I’m going to need you to come over and proposition me―

“Hold that.”

I jerked alert at the sudden shift in Daisy’s tone, my head panning quickly to check our surroundings for any signs of danger. My gaze landed on what must have caught the other mare’s attention just as her next words entered my head through the link. “Vehicle rolling up. Doesn’t look like a potential customer. SUV. Armored.”

I wasn’t sure how Daisy had managed to surmise that the slowly approaching vehicle was armored, but I didn’t have any particular reason to doubt her conclusion either. The black SUV did look a little beefier than some models I’d seen driving around town though. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and spotted the stallion who had been staring at Daisy finally tearing his attention away from the provocatively-dressed mare and directing it towards the door behind him. He opened the door and started speaking to whoever was inside. I couldn’t make it out though.

“Looks like Caveat wasn’t wrong about GlimTech wanting to move the target soon,” I heard Harriet say over our shared link. A second later, I heard her muse, “This might actually be our best chance to make the grab. Jenny and I are on our way. Stall them.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Daisy assured the donkey. The earth pony glanced my way for a brief moment, flicking her muzzle towards the trio of equines that were walking along the above breezeway towards the stairs that would take them down to the ground level. “I’ll get the driver. You distract them until the others get here.”

“Distract them how?” I asked hesitantly. The mare spared just a moment to give me a deadpan expression, her eyes visibly wandering to my hindquarters and back again, making me suddenly aware once more of how I was dressed. I felt my ears pin back. “...Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“You don’t have to actually fuck ‘em; just flirt for a couple minutes,” I heard the earth pony sigh even as she slipped away from where whe’d been perched and started making her way over to the newly arrived vehicle. The passenger-side window had been rolled down, presumably so that the driver could converse with his intended passengers who were making their way down the stairs. However, Daisy got there first and wasted no time in propping her hooves over the lip of the door and leaning in, a broad smile on her face. “Hey, stud! If you’re looking for a pony ride, I give the best in town…” The earth pony gave her hips a little wiggle at the end of her sales pitch.

From what I could hear over the link though, the driver wasn’t particularly interested. “I’m not looking for a joy-toy tonight; shove off.”

I didn’t catch Daisy’s response, as the group that I had been tasked with intercepting was quickly approaching. The trio consisted of the zebra that we were being tasked with rescuing along with his captors, a pegasus mare who must have been in the room the whole time and the unicorn stallion who’d been ogling Daisy all night. Both were dressed in neatly tailored suits of matching colors and styles―save for the wing-hole slits cut into the mare’s jacket. They were clearly part of GlimTech corporate security by the way they carried themselves. My eyes traced out a distinctive bulge near the right stifle of each pony.

I detached myself from where I’d been along the wall and started approaching them. All three had been looking at the vehicle which was here to collect them, and the driver who was currently trying to shoo Daisy away. However, it wasn’t long before my own approach was noticed. I fought back the nervous lump in my throat as my brain raced to come up with something that would sound like what a prostitute propositioning a potential client might say. I’d seen this sort of thing in vids before, so I had a general idea of how it went.

“L-like what you see…hot…stuffs?” I managed to get out as I forced my lips into a wide smile, planting myself directly in the path of the three equines so as to block their way to the SUV. “I’ve got plenty more to show you! For the right price! Which are good―I have good prices. And sex. I have good sex too―you’ll have good sex, I mean! With me! All night. And other stuff too. With me…for money.”

Okay, so that might not have been exactly like the dialogue I’d heard in vids had gone. But, in my defense, I never claimed to be good at acting or improvising lines. Or seducing ponies. I obviously wasn’t good at that either when put on the spot. Obvious enough, it seemed, that I became aware that I’d caught not just the attention of the two security officers and their escort―which had been the goal, I might contend! But my efforts had also drawn the attention of everypony else in the area, who had apparently all taken notice and gone completely silent while I’d stumbled my way through that fiasco of an introduction.

Even the other two actual prostitutes down the sidewalk were staring at me with slack-jawed bewilderment.

Daisy as well had turned away from the driver of the SUV to watch this trainwreck unfold. “Oh…oh, honey…that was…just awful.”

At almost the same time, I heard the pair of mares down the sidewalk finally burst out into fits of raucous laughter. The GlimTech pegasus mare acquired a derisive smirk on her face while her partner sniggered. “First night whoring?” She snorted. “Get a sign: ‘giddy-up for a gibbie’. You might actually get a customer.

“Now move it, skank,” the mare moved to push me aside and continue onward towards the waiting vehicle.

“Okay, fuck this…” I mumbled through a frustrated sigh. “Going loud!” I warned over the link.

Then I reared up and struck the pegasus across the face, landing a solid strike on her cheek with my booted arcanetic hoof. Completely unprepared for the blow, the suited mare went to the ground almost immediately. I heard her unicorn stallion partner gasp in surprise, but that was about all he had time to do, because my forehooves were already planted back on the pavement and I was coiling my hind legs to deliver a fierce double-buck. Daisy’s admirer had only just managed to light his talisman to do whatever it is he was about to do when my reinforced arcanetic hooves connected with his jaw and pitched the stallion back.

I was barely aware that the uproarious laughter from the prostitutes down the way had shifted abruptly into terrified screaming as the pair fled the scene of the unanticipated display of violence. Two other ponies joined them as their pegasus companion and her ‘client’ took note that the area outside of the motel had suddenly become a little ‘livelier’ than either of them liked to continue pursuing their interaction.

What they were getting up to wasn’t of much concern to me though. My attention was already back on the pegasus mare who I’d stuck initially. The blow I’d landed on her hadn’t been quite as potent as the buck her partner had just received, and clearly hadn’t taken her out of the fight completely. However, it had dazed her a bit. Enough certainly that I was able to land a solid stomp on her head without too much trouble. The pegasus uttered a grunt and then her body went limp. He was still breathing, so she wasn’t dead. But she definitely wasn’t going to be up and about in the next few minutes.

I quickly glanced between her and the other suited GlimTech employee to ensure that he was going to be down for the count too. Only then did I spare a look behind me to see how Daisy had fared with the driver. In hindsight, I don’t know why I was even remotely concerned. The earth pony didn’t look like she’d even had to move hardly a muscle to subdue the driver. She seemed just as calm as she’d been all night, in fact.

The stallion behind the wheel however…he was looking quite stressed at the moment. Understandable, I supposed. After all, he did currently have one of Daisy’s ethereal filaments wrapped firmly around his neck. His bulging eyes and profuse sweating suggested that the GlimTech driver was perfectly aware of what would happen to him if even the earth pony mare the other end was attached to so much as twitched her hoof.

Daisy gave me an appreciative nod. “Well, at least you’ve gotten better at something! We’re definitely going to work on your flirting though. Wow―” Her words cut off as her eyes suddenly narrowed and she shifted her gaze to something just behind me.

Concerned that one of the ponies I’d taken down was recovering faster than I’d intended, I immediately spun around, my hooves planted in anticipation of a fight…only to find that the zebra stallion we’d come here to rescue was currently galloping away. For a brief moment, I was confused as to why somepony would be trying to run away from their rescuers. Then I realized that neither Daisy or I had actually ever made it clear that we were here to rescue him.

From his perspective, he’d just watched two prostitutes attack a bunch of well-dressed ponies with a nice car completely unprompted. He’d probably concluded that we were robbing them or something. I cursed under my breath and bolted after the zebra. “Hold on! Wait! We were sent by Aeriesaka to rescue you!”

To my immense frustration, the striped stallion didn’t stop running. In fact, if I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought that he was running even faster now. Of course, that didn’t make any sense, so I’d probably just been imagining it. For as old as he was, he was moving pretty fast though. I was going to have trouble catching him…

…Or, I would have had trouble, except that the zebra found his escape route suddenly blocked by a black sedan which seemingly appeared out of nowhere and mounted the curb perpendicular to his path of intended flight, coming to a screeching stop directly in front of the stallion so close that the old zebra didn’t have enough space to stop and ended up rolling over the hood of the unanticipated vehicle. I had enough time to pull up well short of the car thankfully, wincing in sympathy as I heard the metallic drumroll of the zebra tumbling across the hood and then the follow-up thump as his body hit the ground on the far side.

Some ‘rescue’...

If Jenny was the least bit concerned about how badly she might have injured our objective, I couldn’t see any sign of it on her face as she exited the driver’s side door. Her sapphire eyes conducted a quick scan of the scene, lingering briefly on the pair of unconscious security officers before issuing me a satisfied nod. Then she shifted her gaze past me towards Daisy. “You good over there, DC?”

“Just peachy, boss!”

The donkey nodded and then looked at the passenger in her car. “Harriet, go put the driver to sleep. I’ll collect our runaway.” The hippogriff mare wordlessly exited the sedan and headed off to go and assist Daisy. Meanwhile, Jenny stepped around towards the groaning zebra and stallion and picked him up, tossing him across her back. I felt myself wince again as I wondered if that was really the best thing to do for an older stallion who’d just been hit by a car.

The donkey paused briefly as she walked past me towards the GlimTech SUV. “You and Daisy take the car back to the loft,” she jerked her head at the black sedan. “Harriet and I will take things from here.”

I nodded, swallowing back questions that I got the feeling Jenny wouldn’t give me straight answers to. If she even bothered with them at all. I was sensing a shift in overall tone all of a sudden, with the arrival of the other two mares. Honestly, this was starting to feel a lot less like a ‘rescue’ to me, even though I couldn’t exactly put a hoof on the reason why.

Jenny resumed heading for the GlimTech SUV. I noticed that Daisy no longer had the driver by the neck with her ethereal threads, and that insteads the stallion’s unconscious―or at least not headless―body was presently being shifted from the driver’s seat into the back row by the hippogriff nettrotter. Relieved of her prisoner, the yellow earth pony mare strode towards me, nodding her head in the direction of the sedan behind me. “Let’s get you back home.” Her eyes briefly darted to the down GlimTech security ponies and she beamed at me. “Better watch myself; looks like there’s another badflank mare on the crew!”

“Eheh, thanks.” I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush at the praise from the other mare. I initially headed for the driver’s side door, but Daisy vetoed me.

“No offense, but I’d like to get home ‘curb free’ tonight,” she teased. I rolled my eyes and diverted to the other side of the car. I was halfway into the seat when something glittering on the sidewalk caught my eye. I squinted at the object and reached out with my telekinesis, bringing it in closer for a more thorough inspection. It was a small gold pin or brooch of some sort. Maybe only half of one? Since it was a depiction of a singular outstretched wing; though it was topped by a crown, so maybe this was the whole thing?

“What’cha got there?” Daisy asked as she finished adjusting her seat, glancing over to see what it was that had delayed my own entry.

I slipped the rest into the vehicle and closed the door, floating the pin over for the other mare to see. “I think one of those other prostitutes dropped some jewelry or something.”

Daisy leaned over, and then immediately did a double-take, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, fuck! That’s a―” Her words were cut off by the sound of a blaring horn which drew both of our attention. We looked behind us to see the GlimTech SUV driving past, Harriet issuing a parting wave, which Daisy absently reciprocated before turning her full wide-eyed attention back to the pin that I was holding in my magic. “That’s not costume jewelry; that’s a King’s Own pin!”

“A what?”

“The ‘King’s Own’ are the members of the griffon king’s personal staff,” the earth pony mare explained.

I balked. “Somecreature out there was working for the king?!” I felt myself grow pale at the thought that we might have inadvertently involved ourselves with the griffon royal family somehow. That was the kind of heat that nopony needed…

Daisy shook her head. “More than likely it’s a pin from somecreature who used to work for him. Probably only indirectly,” she explained. “You need to understand that the king has a massive ‘personal staff’. We’re talking tens of thousands of creatures at any one time, working at every level at his various palaces and such. It’s pretty neat to receive one of these, but there’re probably a hundred thousand or more creatures in the world who have one of these.

“Which doesn’t mean that it isn’t a little weird to see one out here in Haywood.” Daisy sniggered at the idea of a creature who’d been doing well enough in life at one point to have worked for the griffon king, managing to end up anywhere near a seedy no-tell motel in Haywood. Though there were certainly other explanations too. “You might have been partially right: probably one of those whores took it off a jack they were with. Wouldn’t be the first time some joy-toy helped herself to a ‘tip’ in the form of some jewelry they saw lying around.

“They probably didn’t even know what they had.” Daisy shrugged and finally turned her attention to the vehicle and started us on our trip back to the loft.

I nodded absently in agreement with the other mare’s plausible explanation as to how such a meaningful pin ended up on the sidewalk in a neighborhood like this. It was certainly a much more palatable one than the idea that our team might have inadvertently incurred the wrath of the griffon monarchy. Which wasn’t to say that we hadn’t pissed some powerful entities off all the same. We had just assaulted―and even foalnapped―members of GlimTech security. We’d also apparently stolen one of their vehicles. Presumably part of the reason to have Harriet driving it was to do something about the possibility of it being tracked.

In any case, if neither Jenny or Daisy seemed to be particularly worried―and considering that the latter was presently singing along to a song on the radio she likely wasn’t―then I probably didn’t need to be either. So I took a breath and slowly let it out to calm myself and simply did my best to bask in the afterglow of an outing that hadn’t resulted in a bodycount. I levitated the little golden pin in front of me, idly twirling it around in the grip of my talisman’s magic. I knew I’d never seen one of these pins before, but at the same time there was something vaguely familiar about it…

“So,” Daisy began when the song she’d been singing along to ended, “about you’re flirting…”

I winced and hung my head, letting out an embarrassed groan.

“―all I’m saying is that practice makes perfect,” Daisy was saying as she guided the sedan into a parking spot behind the converted building the band used as its headquarters. “Just try throwing in a flirt here or there in a conversation to help get yourself more comfortable with it.”

I frowned as I stepped out of the car, flashing the other mare a skeptical look. “Won’t that give creatures the wrong idea about me if I’m always flirting with whoever I talk to?”

“And what idea is that?” Daisy asked with a hint of mock innocence, as though she’d not understood the meaning behind my question. She stepped around the car and started heading for the building’s rear entrance. I fell into step beside her. “The idea that you’re fun to talk to?” The mare’s tone was chiding, but warm all the same, coaxing a reluctant smile from me.

As we neared the entrance, I caught sight of a unicorn stallion sitting near the door acting as a lookout. He had apparently also managed to catch sight of us too, and let out an appreciative wolf-whistle. “I see the Green Room added a couple of new items to the menu! Hey, Daisy, where can I get a price list?”

I grimaced as memories surfaced regarding the last time a stallion had made a crass remark about the little earth pony, but I relaxed a little when I saw Daisy pass me a smirk and wink before she responded. “Sorry, Ramparts; but a seat at this ‘table’,” the mare wiggled her rump, “is ‘invite only’,” she quipped. The mare then sidled up to the unicorn and looked him up and down. “But, I do happen to know the owner,” she purred, leaning in close to his ear. “So I might be able to put in a good word for you.”

“R-really?” The stallion swallowed, doing a very poor job of keeping his eyes from wandering over the little earth pony mare’s body.

“Sure! I’ll just need to, ah…” This time her own eyes darted away from the stallion’s face for a brief moment. She looked back up, biting her lip coyly. “‘Review your references’.” The stallion cleared his throat, nodding his head jerkily as a smile curled his lips. “Good stallion,” Daisy cooed before heading in through the door, well aware and apparently unconcerned that the pony at the door was pointedly craning his head to watch her leave. Only when she’d gone too far for him to comfortably view did the stallion face forward once more. His eyes landed on me now, and a slightly predatory smile manifested as his eyes began to look me over the way they had Daisy, much to my discomfort.

He opened his mouth, doubtless to make some similar comment as he had just earlier, and I winced in anticipation. However, before he could speak, I heard Daisy’s voice through the door. This time it possessed a thin biting tone that it had lacked earlier. “Ramparts?” She warned, “My guest list is ‘gentlecolts only’.”

The stallion’s mouth clamped down hard on whatever he had initially planned to say. The smile vanished as well, replaced with a much more neutral expression. He slightly inclined his head towards me. “Welcome back, ma’am.”

I felt myself breathe an inward sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I muttered under my breath and only mostly scurried through the door after Daisy. I found the other mare standing there waiting for me, though her gaze was fixed just over my shoulder. I heard her clear her throat and quickly glanced to see what she was looking at. I was just in time to see the door stallion’s head whipping in the other direction from where he must have been following me. I felt myself flush as I wasted no more time and used my talisman’s magic to unfurl my bobbed tail and release the flank strap which had been holding up my dock.

Daisy, for her part, used her magic to close the door, rolling her eyes once it was secured again. “Eh, he did mostly okay…

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect to start you out on that level,” the earth pony assured me as she turned to head to the Green Room, motioning for me to follow her. “Filly steps. We’ll start you off with just a compliment or something. Preferably on somepony who’s pretty non-threatening and knows you already―Ooh!” Daisy stopped abruptly, causing me to nearly plow right into her backside. She waved her hoof ahead of us. “Perfect target! Go say something nice about them. Just do it with some pouty lips or something.”

I furrowed my brows in confusion at the mare and was about to ask what she was talking about when I caught sight of the figure ahead of us who’d just emerged into view. This was―presumably―who Daisy intended me to ‘flirt’ with. I looked past her…and immediately blanched.

“Oh, hey there, ladies,” Gerry greeted with a wave of his talons. Either the lighting in the corridor was affecting his vision, or the griffon just didn’t see ponies that way, because the guitarist didn’t appear to be the least bit affected by how the two of us were dressed like the stallion at the door had been. “How was the op?”

“Op went swimmingly,” Daisy beamed. She then took a giant step back and rather unceremoniously scooted me forward, much to my own mounting horror. “Pel has something she needs to tell you!”

I was going to kill her. I was going to dedicate my life to improving my skills at hoof-to-hoof combat, and then I was going to challenge Daisy to a duel to the death. Assuming that I didn’t drop dead from sheer embarrassment in the next thirty seconds, that was…

“Oh?” Gerry shifted his focus to me, his expression one of genuine interest. “What’s up?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat was physically painful, and my mouth had never felt so dry. Of all the creatures in this building, why did it have to be Gerry I was expected to flirt with?! I could sense the seconds ticking by, somehow managing to drag on with excruciating slowness and also fleeting by too quickly to keep track of, allowing me to be pointedly aware of how much more awkward my continued silence was become the longer I went without saying whatever it was that Daisy had assure the griffon I’d ‘needed’ to tell him.

“I…” I didn’t actually have any follow-up. I just knew that I needed to make a sound, whatever it was. If I thought that simply starting to speak would help me come up with something to actually say, I’d have been wrong though. I groped around for something―anything!―to say about him, but my mind went completely and utterly blank, letting the single vowel drag on for uncomfortably-long seconds.

Then Daisy punched me in the flank. Words started tumbling out of my mouth too quickly for me to properly process. “Ireallylikeyourmane!” I blanched again as both mine and Gerry’s eyes glanced up to the top of his head…and the decided utter lack of a ‘mane’. “I mean…your feathers―crest! Thing. With the purple. It’s nice. I like it.”

Kill me now.

The silence that hung in the air was deafening. I just wanted to sink through the floor and fall out of the world. Then I saw Gerry’s beak curl into a warm smile as he looked down at me. “Thank you; I like it too. I like the boots,” he said, gesturing to my legs. “It’s a solid look! Maybe something a little less glossy though?” He added after a moment’s thought.

“Well I’m going to turn in for the night; it was great seeing you, ladies!” Gerry issued a casual wave of his clawed hand and turned around, leaving the corridor.

I hung my head, feeling like I’d made an utter fool of myself. At least the griffon hadn’t outright laughed at me. He definitely hadn’t acted like he’d been flirted with though. Nor had he ogled me like just about every other male had been this evening. Maybe he wasn’t into ponies? Or mares at least? Did he already have a fillyfriend―er, henfriend rather, I guess?

I heard a strangled noise coming from behind me and was suddenly reminded that I wasn’t alone in this hallway. I turned my head slowly and glowered at the yellow earth pony mare who’d subjected me to the earlier humiliation. Daisy’s mouth was presently drawn in a very tight line as she valiantly fought back…something.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh,” I warned her in a low growl.

“Oh course not,” the other mare agreed in a strained tone, her eyes starting to glisten with tears at the effort it appeared to be taking her to comply with my demand. “Laughing right now would be cruel.” I continued to glower at the other mare, waiting for her to finally crack and justify further animosity. In her―grudging―defense, she didn’t. “I need a drink. Let’s get a drink.” She hurriedly trotted ahead towards the Green Room. I sighed and trudged after her.

Daisy wasted no time in slipping into the kitchen connected to the lounge. I elected to make myself comfortable on one of the couches and started pulling off my boots. Stylish though they may have been, comfortable they most certainly were not. I had just tugged off the first when my ear flicked at the sound of raucous laughter that started to filter through the closed kitchen door. I regarded the door with a flat expression as I heard the mare beyond laugh herself into near hyperventilation.

At least she’d had the decency to not do it in front of me. That was something.

I resumed removing my boots, setting them on the floor. It was around then that I caught sight of a sliver of emerald sitting on the low table in the middle of the room. I recognized it as the data shard that the minotaur had delivered earlier that evening with the information about the operation that we’d just completed. I reached out with my telekinesis and picked up the little crystal sliver.

Lingering questions about the operation still existed in my mind. Perhaps I’d find some of the answers here? I stole a glance at the kitchen door where it sounded like Daisy was still trying to recompose herself. I appeared to have at least a little time before she returned with the drinks. I slipped the shard into the receptacle on the side of my neck.

I felt the information make itself available to me, like memories I’d never known I had suddenly coming to the surface of my thoughts. I sifted through them, searching for something that might stand out. I’d seen most of this before when Harriet had given us the briefing. There honestly wasn’t a lot on the shard aside from the location of the GlimTech safehouse and a heavily redacted dossier on the zebra we’d been sent to rescue…

Huh. There actually really wasn’t much else. Specifically, I wasn’t seeing any information regarding a pre-arranged meeting point where we’d return the zebra to Aeriesaka custody. I mean, I suppose we could just drive him right to the front door of their tower downtown…but that didn’t strike me as how this sort of thing was done, for some reason. Corporations came to groups like Jenny’s because they wanted things done that didn’t tie directly back to them. Having us drive right up to Aeresaka’s front door struck me as a ‘tie’.

Maybe there was just a ‘usual location’ that Aeresaka always had the crew meet them at, and so it hadn’t needed to be specified this time? That was certainly possible. Maybe I could ask Gerry about it tomorrow―

I blinked in surprise. Then my eyes narrowed. The zebra’s file didn’t have much beyond a name, a title, and a photo. Which was fine. It didn’t take knowing somepony’s life story to be able to rescue them. It was the latter that caught my interest though. The photo wasn’t just some random candid picture of the zebra. It had all the hallmarks of a corporate file headshot. Like the sort that would show up on an ID badge. Which made sense. Aeriesaka probably had those for all their employees, at every level.

It made sense that any decent employee would want to look at least halfway presentable in their photo too. They’d have their chin scruff trimmed, their mane cut and styled, wear a decent suit if they had one, and maybe even a piece or two of their nicer jewelry.

…They also might want to wear a pin which holds a very special significance to them. Like a golden lapel pin of a wing with a crown on it. Like the one that I’d found by the car earlier.

A pin that the zebra was wearing in the photo.

The zebra we’d rescued had once worked for the griffon king himself.

My gaze darted to the stallion’s job title listed in the file. It sounded like the most menial and mundane entry level garbage I’d ever encountered. Junior Assistant Associate blah blah blah.

How did a stallion go from being selected to serve on the staff of royalty to being just some peon in Aeriesaka? If he’d colossally fucked up in such a way that his history working on the royal staff meant nothing…would he really still be wearing that pin? Would he even have been allowed to continue wearing it? I wasn’t sure how any of that worked, but it certainly seemed to me like that stallion should have been way higher up in the corporate pecking order―

The kitchen door opened, interrupting my thoughts. Daisy had apparently recovered enough to get our drinks. I noticed that her makeup had run a little though from the tears of laughter she’d been shedding. Glorious.

“Were you crying?” I didn’t quite glare at the mare as she passed me a fruity orange drink that she’d mixed for me.

“There’s just…so much beauty in the world, you know? Brings a tear to my eye sometimes.”

“Uh huh.”

“So…” The mare sidled up next to me on the couch and flashed a predatory grin in my direction. “...tell me more about how much you like Gerry’s…crest?”

Kill. Me. Now.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 11: Pirate Radio

“―otests continue outside city hall today as creatures demand action in the wake of the scandal which rocked Elysium Property Management Services, leaving the fate of nearly a million residents of the city’s megasilos uncertain.”

The large screen in the Green Room displayed a series of short vignettes showcasing something of a ‘highlight reel’ of the demonstration which had been ongoing on the steps of the city’s primary government building for the past couple of days. Something like two blocks of the city had been rendered effectively impassable due to the throng of bodies gathered on the streets in protest. LCPD officers, decked out in what looked to be every scrap of riot gear the department owned, were arrayed on the steps of city hall in lines two deep, forming a living barrier between the masses and the government officials inside who were―ostensibly―working to find a solution to the issue that had all of those protestors so riled up.

The voice of the reporter went on as the screen continued to display scenes of angry creatures yelling unintelligible epithets at the officers and the sequestered officials beyond them. “Payment for various utilities, such as power and water, are coming due and all indications are that Elysium does not have sufficient capital left in its accounts to make the imminent payments.

“LCN reached out to Light City Power & Water earlier today for comment on the possibility of extending their services to the city’s megasilos in the event of non-payment, in light of what could certainly be considered extenuating circumstances. A representative for the company gave us this statement:

“‘While our hearts go out for those affected by these events, our company’s longstanding policy is clear on matters such as this: In order to continue services on past due accounts, the account holder must request participation in LCPW’s ‘Emergency Relief Plan’ and secure one of our many relief loan options through our partners at Griffonstone Bank & Trust. So far, Elysium has not done so; which leaves our claws tied.’

“The representative then went on to elaborate that any exception to their company’s policies would need to be approved through arbitration and that, thus far, Elysium had made no effort to schedule an appointment.

“Requests for comment from Elysium have not yet been responded to…”

My gaze finally flicked away from the screen, drifting up to the ceiling. It proved to be an ideal backdrop for the illusionary script floating in front of me as I read through another chapter of the book that Daisy had provided me last week. I’d so far found the contents to be…well…enlightening, actually.

I’d be the first to admit that I hadn’t been a great student in school. I hadn’t failed any of my classes, no, but I hadn’t exactly been in the running for any sort of academic honors either. That being said, my ignorance of Equestrian history could not be solely attributed to my lackluster scholastic performance. The fact simply was that not a lot about Equestria was covered in school beyond that it was a place which existed and where it was located on a map. I knew that it was the homeland for nearly every variety of equine―save for zebras―and that it was ruled by Princess Twilight Sparkle.

But that was about it. There wasn’t any deep delve into its history, or its society and governance…come to think of it: news coming out of the continent was pretty hard to come by too. I hadn’t really thought about that too much, I’ll be honest. I kind of had enough going on in my own life that I hadn’t given much thought to what was happening in the lives of ponies living half a world away. Still, now that I was thinking about it, that struck me as pretty odd. There were occasional stories of significant events coming out of the griffon lands, and even the more distant southern continent.

But nothing about Equestria.

So being able to read about the life and times of ponies who’d lived there was proving to be pretty interesting, even if I was finding myself wondering how much legitimacy I was supposed to be giving the alleged ‘journal’. It read more like an anthology of high-fantasy adventures. Ponies using magic without the aid of talismans―most of the time, anyway―fighting giant dragons and hydras, uncovering ancient evils from the distant past…

Funnily enough, it was the parts that presented themselves as being more grounded, with a focus on daily life in the little town which served as the backdrop for many of the chapters, that seemed like they were the most ‘fantastic’, in the less often used sense of the word: they were the stories which felt like pure fantasy.

Ponies helping each other, just because it was the right thing to do? Nopony stepping on anypony else just to get ahead? Throwing parties for no other reason than because it might make somepony’s day feel just a little bit brighter?

It was extremely difficult for me to imagine a world like that. But oh how wonderful it would be if life could actually be that way…

I was drawn away from my reading when I heard the background drone of the reporting on the television suddenly cut off. My gaze instinctively flickered first to the now blank screen, and then around the room. It didn’t take long to spot the mud-colored donkey who was standing nearby, tossing away the remote that she’d picked up. Nor was she alone, I noticed. The rest of the band was with her as well, filing in through the doorway and seeking out seats of their own.

“Good. I don’t have to go looking for you,” Jenny said curtly before striding over to go stand in front of the darkened screen while everycreature else made themselves comfortable.

I blinked in mild surprise at the unexpected interruption as I tentatively rose up from the couch I’d been laying on and assumed a seated posture. Gerry eased himself down next to me in the recently vacated space, flashing me a warm smile and a nod. I returned the gesture as best I could, though I did feel my cheeks flushing slightly as I recalled Daisy’s teasing in the wake of my attempt at ‘flirting’ with the griffon the other day. Looking him in the eye had been a somewhat difficult prospect ever since…

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than the side door leading to the kitchen opened up, allowing the golden earth pony entrance, balancing a tray on her back that was laden with drinks for the team. The little mare’s eyes almost immediately locked onto myself and Gerry sharing a couch and I saw her already wide smile broaden just a little bit more, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint. She rather hastily passed out the drinks to the others before she approached the two of us.

Daisy’s levitation magic held out a glass to the griffon, who took it with a polite ‘thank you’, and then she gestured for him to scoot further my way. “Make a little room?” She asked innocently.

To his credit, the griffon guitarist did spare a moment to look around the room and note that there were at least two other loungers which only possessed a single creature on them, and would thus prove to be much more accommodating to another occupant than our own already cramped divan. All the same, the gold and ivory tiercel scooched over as much as he could in my direction, flashing me a look of apology as he did so. By the time Daisy was satisfied that enough room had been made for her on the couch, I was feeling nearly enveloped by the griffon, who’d been forced to drape his wing behind my back to keep it from being pinned to his side by my body.

I leaned my head forward slightly to look past Gerry’s chest at the smaller mare, and promptly glared daggers at her. In response, Daisy merely winked at me, looking completely unabashed at what she’d orchestrated.

My head whipped away from her when I heard Jenny loudly clearing her throat in my direction. I couldn’t tell if the donkey’s scowl was because she could also see what Daisy was so obviously doing and didn’t care for it, or if it was simply because she hadn’t appreciated that I hadn’t been paying attention. Either way, I felt myself flushing with embarrassment again. “Now that we’re all finally here,” the donkey began, finally allowing her gaze to sweep around the room as she ensured the rest of the band was paying attention, “let’s go ahead and discuss our next op.”

I received an illusionary alert letting me know that I was being invited into a group seance by Harriet. I acknowledged the request and found myself being presented with all manner of documents and images. Curiously, I found that I not only recognized much of what I was seeing, but that the information wasn’t far afield from what I’d just been watching on the news.

“We’re going to join up with the protestors outside of city hall?” Dandy scoffed.

“No,” Jenny replied, “we’re going to use the unrest as cover to get inside. Once we’re in, we’re going to gain access to the network and we’re going to place a long-distance call. To Canterlot.”

Mine wasn’t the only jaw which made a valiant effort to hit the floor in shock at the announcement. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good sign or not, but I at least felt a little less slighted knowing that I wasn’t the only one being kept out of the loop on the lead up to this mission. I also apparently wasn’t the one who was most upset about being effectively blindsided by her announcement either. That award would have gone to Gerry.

The gold and alabaster griffon had sat bolt upright, his wing lightly batting me over the head as he did so. However, he hadn’t seemed to notice through his shock, his attention fully on the band’s singer. “When exactly did you decide this?! Because this is the first any of us seem to be hearing about it, and this says we’re doing it today!” He waved a lawed hand seemingly aimlessly through the air, but from what he was saying I suspected that he was gesturing broadly at the illusionary operation plan he could see floating in front of him.

Dandy was similarly unamused by the short notice and joined the guitarist in voicing his concerns. “City hall ain't a joke, Jen. Even without all the extra security, we can’t just trot in there free as you please! We’d need a plan―prep time. We spent months setting up the Elysium job―”

The donkey stomped her arcanetic hoof, silencing the unicorn with a fierce snort. “We have a plan,” she insisted, “Harriet just sent it to you! I already arranged for the materials and shit we’ll need. And, unfortunately, we don’t have ‘months’ to work on this, because the plan relies on using the protests as cover. We can’t know how much longer the city will let them go on, so we have to act now.”

“It’s not just about getting in,” Gerry pointed out as he held up his own clawed fingers and began counting out the issues he felt remained to be addressed. “We need access credentials for their network, we need to know their communications protocol―what fucking frequency we’re even supposed to use to call―”

Another, much more pronounced, hoof-stomp from the jenny. “We have that, if you’ll all just fucking look at the damn briefing before whining like a bunch of fucking foals!” She all but snarled at us. The room fell into silence, save for a low rumble coming from Barkly’s throat, the diamond dog clearly not having cared for the tone of the donkey’s words. Even this ceased as the singer singled the canine out with a glare.

“You’re all acting like this is my first fucking rodeo,” Jenny sneered, once more panning the room with a glare, allowing it to linger on all of us, but Gerry and Dandy especially. “Do you really think I don’t know what kind of a shitstorm we’d be getting into, trying to break into city-fucking-hall without a solid plan of attack?!” He gaze once more darted back to Dandy. “For your information, I have been spending ‘months’ laying the groundwork for this operation. I’ve got everything covered. As long as we all do our parts, there won’t be any problems, okay?”

The donkey snorted and shook her head, muttering under her breath. “You fuckers act like I’d try to get you killed or something…”

She then cleared her throat and waved her hoof in Harriet’s direction, apparently signaling for the hippogriff nettrotter to take care of the briefing, seeing as she was the one who was sending us the information over the link.

“The operation is pretty straightforward,” the group’s nettrotter began. “Thanks to the protests going on, Light City has called pretty much every cop down to City Center to help with crowd control.”

“And the added security helps us…how, exactly?” Dandy inquired.

“I got us police uniforms,” Jenny announced, glaring at the purple unicorn stallion.

Harriet nodded. “It’s an absolute clusterfuck out there. A thousand officers from a dozen different departments. Nocreature knows anycreature else, and shit’s so fucked up and chaotic that they’re not checking credentials too closely. Which is good, because I could only get us one identity with any actual access to anything. All the other badges are about as legit as something you could pick up for a foal’s Nightmare Night costume.”

“But they’ll hold up at a glance and get us past the barricade, which is good enough,” the donkey assured us. “After that, our one ‘good’ ident card will get us to where we need to go.”

Another nod from the hippogriff. Her eyes flickered for a moment and the imagery hovering in front of my eyes changed to show a broad layout of the tower downtown which housed the city’s government offices, with special attention paid to one of the upper floors which was labeled as being the ‘communications hub’. “For the most part, we should be left alone,” Harriet explained. “City employees have been seeing LCPD officers running all over the place for two days now, so they should just sort of assume that we’re doing something ‘security related’ and not try to stop us from going anywhere we’re trying to get to. If somecreature does try to stop you, for whatever reason, and they’re not an LCPD officer, act like any other cop and be a condescending prick and threaten them with obstruction or something.”

“And if we’re stopped by somecreature who is an LCPD officer?” Dandy ventured.

“Then you tell them we’re on orders from the mayor,” Jenny said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “That should end pretty much any further questions. If anycreature actually bothers to follow up with the mayor about it, we’ll be gone before we’re found out. Mayor’s plate is so full with this Elysium shit, she doesn’t have time to worry about some pissant whining about police officers walking around inside city hall.”

Jenny snickered. “Heck, I bet her and her aides actually have given out so many orders to various officers over the last few days that she’ll assume one of her reps actually did tell us to go to the comms hub and clear us!”

“Once we’re in the hub, just watch the door while I access the system and make contact with Equestria,” Harriet continued. “We have the contact protocols for Canterlot from that info cache Hash Stack got us from way back.”

The group seemed to have most of their concerns fairly well assuaged by this point, and everycreature was sitting more comfortably in their seats. Which left me feeling a little uncomfortable and out of place when I raised a tentative hoof. Jenny noticed me, frowning even as she gestured for me to speak up. “Um…out of curiosity, what exactly is it we hope to accomplish by calling Equestria?” I glanced around the room for any sign that I was posing a question which had an obvious answer I’d somehow managed to miss. Fortunately, none of the others were looking at me like I was a complete idiot. Well, except for Jenny; but she seemed to always look at me like that.

In fairness, since joining up with this crew I had come under the impression that she looked at everycreature like that…

“Light City was founded as a joint venture between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdom,” the donkey explained―with only a hint of mild exasperation in her voice, I noted. “Now think for two seconds and ask yourself what about the way things are being run in this place sounds like it is being influenced at all by the pony that wrote that journal Daisy gave you?”

I balked, blinking several times in shock at the donkey. When it became clear that I hadn't at all followed what the jenny said, her frown deepened into a scowl. “She did give you that Journal of Friendship, right?” Jenny’s gaze flashed briefly to the yellow earth pony mare, who was nodding even as she glanced at me. The singer looked back at me. “And I assume you’ve read it?” I suddenly felt like I was back at school and had failed to do a reading assignment that I hadn’t known the proctor had given us.

“I-I uh…” I stammered, “I’ve started it, yeah―wait, what do you mean ‘the pony who wrote it’?” I accessed the file through my arcanetics and brought it up to see, my gaze darting to the illusionary script. “Hold on, do you mean to tell me that the Twilight Sparkle who wrote this is the Princess Twilight Sparkle who rules Equestria?!

“But I thought the princess was an alicorn, not just another unicorn!”

I found myself the focus of several blank stares. Then Daisy cleared her throat, drawing my attention. “...Did you not get to the part where she becomes an alicorn?”

“You can just become an alicorn?!” I quickly started sifting through the chapters, seeking out the indicated moment, which I clearly had not managed to reach during the course of my reading thus far.

“Damn, DC; spoiler-warning much?” Dandy sniggered at the earth pony.

“Whatever,” Jenny said in a dismissive tone, turning her attention away from me and back to the others. “So, to summarize: we can get past the barricades with the uniforms I acquired for us, get to the comms hub with the ident card that Harriet scraped for us, and get out our message to the princess using the protocols that Hash Stack found.

“If the real Twilight is anything like she claims to be in her journal, she won’t sit idly by while creatures are suffering. And there’re a lot more than the million or so creatures in those megasilos who are ‘suffering’ in Light City.”

I gave up in my efforts to find the events that had been described in the journal for now―there’d be time to look later when we weren’t preparing for a mission to break into city hall. Though it seemed that, for the most part, the briefing was over. At least, that was what I gathered from the fact that the others were all rising out of their couches and heading for the door. Still a little dazed and confused, feeling broadsided by recent revelations, I hesitantly followed Gerry out of the Green Room and down the corridor towards the armory. Sometime between when Jenny had armed me up to play ‘bouncer’ for the Aeriesaka minotaur and now, the room had been stocked with several very-real-looking LCPD uniforms. These were passed out to each of us, along with a pistol that also looked remarkably like those carried by real LCPD officers.

The latter was actually a little less surprising. The common LCPD officer didn’t really carry a proprietary weapon. Most gun stores in Light City offered either that exact pistol model, or similar ones that were indistinguishable at a glance. At least, indistinguishable to an untrained eye like mine, I supposed. In any case, a quick glance at the manufacturer’s mark etched into the slide confirmed that these were, in fact, the genuine article. In short order, six otherwise unassuming creatures were transformed into six members of ‘Light City’s finest’. Or so Jenny had proclaimed, placing air-quotes with her hoof around the last word.

When we finally stepped outside, I found myself grinding to a stunned halt. While I could understand being able to acquire the weapons and uniforms with relative ease―as I knew the pistols to be commonly available, and I suspected that uniforms weren’t exactly hard to buy from a distributor either―I would have been fairly sure that it should have been quite difficult to acquire an actual LCPD vehicle! And yet, I found myself staring at one parked right outside all the same―

No, wait…

I narrowed my eyes at the black and purple van sitting nearby which was emblazoned with what looked to be all of the appropriate decals and markings. It even had a light bar on top of it. However, the longer I looked at it, the less convinced I was that it was the genuine article. LCPD vehicles were armored, for one thing, not unlike that GlimTech SUV from the other night. The windows and paneling of the van outside looked decidedly unarmored though. The van also had a very familiar shape to it that I was pretty sure I’d seen before.

Huh. I’d always wondered what had become of that City Center Cleaners van we’d used to break into Elysium’s offices. I’d just sort of assumed that we’d returned it. Though now that I thought about it, I realized that the hippogriff I’d paid off for the van that night hadn’t acted like he expected it back…

“Move your flank, filly,” I heard Jenny all but snarl just before she headbutted me on my backside, nearly sending me toppling down the stairs. I managed to recover from my stumble and made it the rest of the way to the van without further annoying the donkey.

Climbing into the back of the vehicle filled me with a sense of deja vu as I looked around and saw a bunch of familiar faces wearing uniforms crammed into the back of the van. Conditions were a little more cramped than they had been last time, even without the cleaning supplies nestled around us, as the LCPD uniforms and gear were considerably bulkier than the cleaner jumpsuits had been.

Harriet and Jenny sat up front, the former behind the wheel. Since the hippogriff hen was the only one of us with an identity card that would pass a thorough inspection, it made sense to have her be the one behind the wheel for when we needed to get past the roadblocks that had been set up around the protests. Gerry and Barkly sat across from me in the back of the van, leaving the space next to me to be taken up by―

“‘Eh, luv!”

Oh, fuck me…

The unicorn stallion sat down almost right on top of me, it felt like, pushing himself right up against my side. His arcanetic talisman at the base of his horn lit up and a second later he was holding up a set of hoofcuffs wrapped in the glow of his telekinesis. The stallion’s expression was one of faux disapproval as he commented on them. “Hmm. These aren’t nearly as nice as the ones I have back in my room,” he remarked in an off-hoofed fashion, casting an aside glance at me as a smirk worked across his face. “They’re padded. A lot more comfortable that way.

“You should swing by some time and try them out.” The stallion paused, tapping the side of his muzzle as he feigned being deep in thought. “I can’t quite remember where I put the key for them, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem right away…” Another smile worked its way across his muzzle that left me feeling more than a little uncomfortable as I tried to squirm away from the drummer as best as I could. Which wasn’t easy to do, as he had me mostly pinned up against the driver’s compartment. “...We just might have to figure out some way to pass the time while you’re all―”

“Zip it, Dandy,” Jenny growled from the front passenger seat, abruptly silencing the unicorn.

Both of us looked over to see the donkey glaring at him. Almost immediately, the purple stallion held up his hooves in surrender and scooted himself back down the bench until there was a respectable gap between us. His telekinetic magic returned the floating restraints to the pouch on his duty belt that he’d gotten them from. “Zippin’ it, boss.”

I flashed the jenny a thankful look and breathed a sigh of relief. Though this only seemed to earn me a disappointed glare from the singer for my trouble. I frowned. What was she mad at me for? I wasn’t the one being a slimy asshole. I certainly wasn’t doing anything to lead Dandy on to make him think I was the least bit interested. Honestly, it still boggled my mind that the stallion got any sort of action from mares. At least, any action that didn’t come with an hourly rate attached to it…

The donkey cast one final brief appraising look at the four of us in the back before turning back around in her seat. “Drive,” she muttered to the hippogriff sitting behind the wheel. Wordlessly, Harriet’s arcanetics started the van and we were off.

The drive wasn’t any more scenic from the back of the van in the light of day than it had been at night when we were breaking into Elysium’s offices. There was a bit more discussion though as Harriet set up a group seance to outline what our specific duties were going to be during the operation.

“My ident card will get us past the barricade,” the nettrotter began, “but I’m not sticking with the van the whole time. I’ll need to be inside in order to upload the required access protocols. Barkly, you’ll stick with the truck and come pick us up when we’re done.”

The diamond dog nodded, flashing a wry smile. “Pupsit the van, got it.”

“Just try not to let it get commandeered for hauling away protesters or something,” the hippogriff cautioned. She then shifted on to the next part of her briefing. “The rest of us will head inside. Jenny and I will head for Security while the rest of you get to the comms hub. I’ll crack the system and get us access. The moment I do, you guys get our message to Equestria. The faster, the better.

“Once it’s done, we exfil via the main entrance and get back to the van. Getting back out through the barricade should be even easier than getting in, so I shouldn’t need to be driving for that. Everypony understand?”

We all transmitted our acknowledgements over the link. The hippogriff glanced over at the donkey sitting beside her and gave a short nod. If she noticed it, Jenny gave no indication, keeping her eyes locked ahead of her out the front of the van. Judging from the increasingly more audible sounds that I was hearing through the thin walls of the vehicle, I suspected that the donkey was focused on the rioting citizens of Light City that had to be nearby.

I felt the van slow down and finally stop. I heard the sounds of angry megasilo residents suddenly spike as the driver’s side window was rolled down. A creature’s voice that I didn’t recognize said something, but it was hard to make out over the din of screaming and chanting. Harriet likewise responded with words I didn’t catch. I at least presumed that the conversation went well, since we were slowly moving forward again just seconds later. The sounds of the riot grew muffled once more as the window rolled back up.

“Remember,” Jenny piped us now, “you’re LCPD officers, so be sure you’re acting like it: You’re assholes with guns, and everycreature standing around screaming outside of city hall is scum that isn’t worth your time. You’re chomping at the bit for word to finally come down from on high that it’s time to stop patronizing the peasants and start cracking skulls with all the fun toys the department’s given you that you never get to use often enough.

“Just keep that mindset and none of the real officers you might encounter will think twice about you being one of them.”

I cast an aside look in the direction of the cynical-sounding donkey. That being said, I found it hard to outright disagree with her interpretation of the mindset held by the typical LCPD officer. Outside of the nicer Light City districts, the public’s interactions with law enforcement were rarely cordial in nature.

It wasn’t much longer before the van’s slow crawl ended in yet another stop. This time though, instead of opening just the window, both Harriet and Jenny opened their doors. At about the same time, Barkly leaned over to open up the back. I reflexively winced as I was assailed by the cacophonic din of thousands of angry megasilo residents venting their frustrations. I managed to clamber out of the back of our disguised police van without incident though and step out into the cordoned-off area in front of city hall. I’d only just gotten my bearings when I heard the sound of glass shattering right next to my head against the side of the van.

I darted to the side as droplets of stale beer splashed across my face, suggesting that the bottle hadn’t been entirely empty. My view of the crow was blocked off almost immediately by a fan of ivory plumage as Gerry’s wing extended itself protectively between me and the crowd. I looked up to see the griffon’s eyes darting between me and the crowd of protestors, his expression shifting between concern and annoyance respectively. I quickly issued him a nod assuring the guitarist that I was okay as I wiped away the splattered beer from my face.

Not seeming to care for the affront that had been made against one of their ‘fellow officers’, the line of uniformed members of the LCPD standing between the crowd and city hall suddenly surged towards the throng of creatures. I saw heavy steel batons gripped in talons, paws, and magic, come into view and descend upon those in the crowd who were within reach. The throng’s predominantly angry din became diluted by cries of fear and pain as those protestors within easy reach found themselves being thumped with the blunt weapons of the officers.

Some of those who were subjected to the beatings seemed to take great offense to be punished for the actions of others and retaliated against the officers, themselves lunging at the LCPD’s line. Either unprepared for the crowd, or simply unable to contend with the sheer mass of bodies being levied against them, the uniformed perimeter rebounded back and then began to lose some of its previously held ground. I felt myself recoiling as I noticed that the protestors were getting closer to the van, and became suddenly concerned that I’d end up becoming entangled in the approaching melee.

Either in response to some call that had gone out over their shared link, or because that was what their procedures demanded in such a situation, additional officers swarmed past Gerry and I, the griffon holding me close to his side with his wing, lest I be carried away by the surging officers. The reinforcements proved up to the task of restoring the original boundary lines though, pushing the crowd back with further judicious applications of batons and chemical sprays.

“Into the building, now!” I heard Jenny screaming above the nearby din a moment before Gerry lurched in the direction of city hall, apparently having been not-so-lightly bucked by the donkey. I trotted along with the group, sans Barkly who was looping around the van to get into the driver’s seat. None of the LCPD officers darting past us to deal with the agitated crowd seemed to be paying us any mind as we ascended the stairs towards the main entrance. A pair of officers ushered us inside and closed the doors behind us. I spared one of them a thankful nod as I trotted along in the wake of my companions.

“Get to the comms hub,” Jenny ordered in a gruff tone. “Harriet will ping you when you’re clear to proceed.” Without another word, or waiting for an acknowledgement, the donkey and the hippogriff peeled off away from the rest of us and vanished around a corner.

Gerry led the rest of us towards the elevators. “Well, that was a thing, huh?” The griffon said in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“Really wish I’d brought my cam with me,” Dandy looked forlornly in the direction of the building’s entrance. “Those would have been some amazing shots for the station’s coverage tonight.” After a moment’s thought, the unicorn added, “not sure how I’d have explained how I was able to get those shots, mind…”

“Maybe you can talk Harriet into scraping some security footage from the building’s surveillance feeds for you,” Gerry offered.

The purple stallion mulled over the suggestion, then grinned. “I just might at that!”

The elevator door opened and the three of us slipped into the empty car. Gerry selected our destination, then he stepped back and took a moment to look me over more thoroughly. “You okay, Pel?”

“Y-yeah,” I assured the griffon, “just a little shaken. I’m good.”

In what I found to be a shockingly rare display of empathy on the unicorn’s part, Dandy managed to say something to me that for once that wasn’t just a crass bit of innuendo that was―I assumed―intended to incentivise me to fuck him somehow. “Covering protests was my first assignment when I started working at LCN,” the stallion said in a surprisingly somber tone. “They make newbies do it because of how inherently dangerous it is. When you gather together thousands of angry creatures for the sole purpose of expressing that anger…it doesn’t take a lot for the shouting to turn to shoving, and then throwing things and punching. Maybe even shooting if some of them brought guns along.

“Protest coverage was the assignment with the highest turnover at the station; and not all of that turnover was because the new hires burned out and quit.” The purple pony regarded me with what looked like genuine sympathy. I thought I spotted a flicker of loss passing across his features, but I couldn’t be certain. It was possible that I’d just hallucinated the whole thing, to be honest, because it wasn’t a moment later that the unicorn was flashing me one of those smiles that he must have believed mares loved to see him use and wiggling his eyebrows. “So…if you think you might have some trouble falling asleep tonight, I’m willing to offer a sympathetic ear and help you with some ‘stress relief techniques’ I learned from a little book called: the pony sutra―”

Just as my glare was starting to manifest on my face, the elevator announced that we’d reached our destination with a polite chime that interrupted the unicorn’s latest attempt at flirting. Gerry none-too-subtly dragged the stallion along behind him on his way out of the car and out into the corridor beyond. “Let’s get to the communication’s hub.”

I followed the pair through the halls until we reached the door whose placard left little doubt as to it being our destination. Our timing was very nearly perfect, as we only just arrived when Harriet’s voice came over our arcanetics. “Took you guys long enough,” the hippogriff mare chided in a playful tone. I cocked my head in mild confusion, wondering how it was that the nettrotter could have known that we’d arrived. Gerry must have anticipated what I was thinking, because the griffon got my attention and pointed out a nearby surveillance camera which had oriented itself in our direction. “It’s clear inside. Unlocking the door.” There was a faint clicking sound of the latch opening from the door. “Gerry, transmitting the access keys to your arcanetics.”

“Right,” the griffon nodded as he opened the door. I moved to follow him in, but the tiercel held up a talon and waved me off. “Pel, stay out here and watch the door. Anycreature tries to come in, you send them packing. Like Jenny said: tell them that access is restricted by order of the mayor or whatever. Just don’t let them through the door or the jig is up.”

I felt my face crease into a cringe at the thought of having to confront a creature who had real power and authority who might happen by, and trying to bluff them off by acting like I had any sort of authority over them. I couldn’t help but feel like that was going to go badly…Still, if Gerry believed that I could do it, then the least I could do was try my best. Besides, I was under the impression that we wouldn’t need to be here long. What were the chances that I was actually going to need to stop anycreature?

“I got it,” I assured the griffon, who favored me with a warm smile before he and Dandy slipped into the room and closed the door behind them. Now alone in the hallway―Harriet’s remote control of the nearby camera notwithstanding―I took a cleansing breath and posted myself in front of the door.

Within seconds, I found myself shifting nervously on my hooves and making all manner of clicking sounds with my tongue as I tried to not to let myself get overwhelmed with stress. After all, we were presently deep inside of a government building that was positively swarming with bodies. We were also encircled by pretty much every single officer employed by the LCPD. If we got found out and had to try and make any sort of run for it…well, I found myself doubting that we’d actually manage to get very far. This mission was easily our most dangerous one to date, in my estimation.

As a means of distracting myself, I brought up the journal and resumed reading. I’d gotten myself up to a chapter about the pegasus who liked to fly fast dealing with her pet tortoise…dying? I think? I wasn’t sure, to be honest. The writing style seemed to be changing dramatically from one chapter to the next now, and not all of them were as easy to follow. Regardless, I had at least picked up on the fact that, whatever was going on with the tortoise, the pegasus was very torn up about it. I could somewhat relate though, as I recalled a neighbor in the megasilo I’d lived in with Hash owning a turtle that had died. He hadn’t taken it well either.

I really hoped the pegasus took the loss better than our old neighbor had…

I’d gotten halfway through the chapter when I heard Harriet send me a clairaudient message. “Look alive; company’s coming.”

I immediately closed out the file and looked around. Sure enough, I could hear booted hoofsteps echoing in the hall. A few seconds later, I spotted a speckled brown griffon tiercel step into view from around the corner. He was dressed in an LCPD uniform, just like mine, except that I saw a trio of golden chevrons emblazoned on his chest. I wasn’t intimately familiar with the LCPD seniority chart, but I knew that I didn’t have anything visible on the chest of my uniform, so it was a given that the griffon outranked me.

Which meant that I was probably going to find it just a little difficult to tell him to piss off if he was stubborn about trying to get through the comm hub door. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that and he was on this floor for some other reason which didn’t involve getting into the one room in this building we didn’t want any actual officers getting into―

Aaaannd, he was stopping right in front of me…

Fuck.

It was all I could do to meet his gaze without looking away. We were on the same team, after all, right? No reason to be nervous. There were any number of reasons the griffon might be up here, right? It certainly didn’t have to be anything which involved Gerry and Dandy sending unsanctioned messages to Equestria.

Honestly, it did feel to me like it was unlikely we’d been found out. I couldn’t help but feel like if anycreature had sensed that there had been a substantial breach in security, I’d have found myself facing off against a lot more than a single officer. Still, that didn’t mean that I wasn’t potentially in a lot of trouble. If I couldn’t bluff this guy away, then I suspected that it wouldn’t be long before I was facing off against a lot more officers.

The griffon glared down at me for several seconds before sneering at me through his beak. “Step aside, officer. I need to inspect the comms hub.”

I blanched. Fear gripped me so tightly that my stomach couldn’t decide if it wanted to tie itself into a knot or drop out of me completely. This had to have been the worst possible thing that could have happened on this mission. The moment this griffon got through the door and saw what was going on inside the hub, it was pretty much a given that we’d be caught. After that, there’d be no escape for us.

The only thing standing between the team and utter disaster…was me.

“You can’t let him in there, Pel,” Harriet unhelpfully reminded me, as though I might have somehow missed that obvious fact.

The griffon, clearly becoming frustrated with my lack of response to his command, as well as my hesitation to obey it, moved to shove me aside with his scaled hand. In that moment, my mind flashed with visions of the inevitable shootout between the band and the LCPD. I saw each of them being cut down by a hail of bullets, in all the gory detail that only a pony’s worst fears could manifest. I saw their perforated bodies lying in expanding pools of their own blood.

Just like Hash Stack. Dying in my hooves, felled by a bullet that I had fired. Whether I’d intended to shoot her or not―and whatever anycreature else might insist, her death was my fault―my friend’s death had been the direct result of my inaction.

I could have confronted Grinder on my own. I could have mared up and taken responsibility. I could have done something―anything―so that a pony I cared about didn’t end up having to shoulder the consequences of my inaction. Hash Stack had died because I hadn’t stepped up when it mattered. Maybe stepping up would have gotten me killed instead, but that would have been fine. At least then I’d have been the one to suffer the consequences of the choices that I’d made in my life, and not somepony else.

Now I was about to watch all of that happen again: Creatures I cared about were going to die, because I failed to do the right thing.

Another flash of pristine white feathers drenched in brilliant crimson…

No.

Not again. Never again.

I smacked away the griffon’s talons, earning a shocked look from the tiercel that very quickly morphed into indignation and anger. Clearly he didn’t think all that much of the ‘subordinate officer’ standing in front of him who wasn’t just rolling over like I was expected to. Somehow, much to my own surprise, I managed not to flinch away from his glare. Lives were on the line, whether the griffon knew it or not, and I couldn’t afford to show weakness or I knew I’d be looking at five more Hash Stacks within the hour.

I swallowed back the solid knot of fear in my throat and fixed my gaze on his. “I can’t do that. I’m under strict orders not to let anycreature in, no matter what.” I paused for a moment, then remembered the recommendation that Jenny had made earlier. “Mayor’s orders.

“If you don’t like it, take it up with her.”

Now the griffon was frowning at me. “Nocreature told me about the hub being ‘off limits’.”

“Well, then I suggest asking whoever it was that was supposed to tell you why they didn’t,” I managed to quip without my voice cracking under the stress of lying for our very lives. “Because I was told that, until I hear otherwise from the mayor, the communications hub is off limits. No exceptions.”

The frown on the tiercel’s face deepened, but I could also spot a glint of hesitation on their face. Presumably I’d stumbled onto an explanation that was at least somewhat plausible, if only at first glance. If I didn’t let the griffon think about things too critically, I could probably get away with this, I realized.

I doubled down. “Look, I get that you’ve got a job too…” I glanced down at the chevrons on the LCPD officer’s chest and racked my brain for what their rank was called. “...sergeant. But I bet my orders come from a lot higher than yours do.” At least, I was pretty sure that I’d cited the highest authority in the city. “Maybe it’s possible they meant for me to still let you do your check inside or whatever,” I elected to concede, though I still held up a staying hoof as I maintained my stare at the larger griffon, “but it’s also possible that they did mean to include you too.”

I broadly gestured at the front of my uniform which was devoid of any rank markings whatsoever. “I’m not in a position to interpret orders; I just follow them as they were given to me. If you think there was a fuck-up, then by all means, take it up with the powers-that-be. But until I get word from the mayor,” I held the griffon’s gaze meaningfully, “I’m not risking my flank by letting you pass.

“Nothing personal.”

It was all I could do not to hold my breath in anticipation. This was the moment of truth. Either the griffon was going to buy my story and leave, or he was going to try and shove me aside again and things were going to get…complicated. Though I ensured that my gaze didn’t waver, my thoughts drifted to the pistol at my stifle. I’d been keeping up with my training in the loft, sure, but shooting at virtual targets was very different from shooting living creatures. I really didn’t want to have to draw on this griffon…

“Yeah, I get it,” the tiercel finally said, letting out a sigh whose deepness alluded to a career full of memories which allowed him to empathize with the plight being faced by the young ‘officer’ standing in front of him. “Fuck it. Neither of us get paid enough for this bullshit.” He turned away and continued walking along his patrol route, casting me a parting wave of his wing. “Carry on, officer.”

“You too, sergeant!”

Only when the griffon left my sight did I permit myself to collapse against the wall and start hyperventilating.

“Damn; not bad, girl!” The hippogriff nettrotter cheered over the clairaudience spell linking us. “That was pretty convincing. I just about bought it!”

“I think I’m going to throw up…” I muttered under my breath. Over the link, I added, “are we done here yet?”

Much to my surprise, I almost immediately received an answer from Gerry. “We have a problem.” I felt my heart leap into my throat, my gaze darting down the corridor in the direction that the griffon officer had gone. If they’d somehow tripped an alarm of some sort, I was pretty sure the tiercel would be the first to respond, and I very much doubted I’d be able to talk him out of investigating the comms hub under those circumstances. What the griffon guitarist followed his announcement up with dispelled that particular concern, at least, but it hardly made me feel any better about the mission overall. “Dandy can’t get any sort of acknowledgement from Equestria. At all. He thinks we’re being jammed.”

Almost immediately, I felt myself overcome with a sense of dread. If our attempt to contact Equestria was being actively blocked, then that suggested that our efforts had been discovered and somecreature was reacting to it, right? Again my eyes darted to the far end of the corridor where that LCPD sergeant would come charging from if he was summoned to respond to our intrusion. Magical energy tingled within the talisman embedded at the base of my horn as I readied a telekinetic field for the pistol at my side.

Harriet’s voice came over the link once more. “Jenny says to scrub and exfil,” the hippogriff informed us. “We’re vacating.”

I could almost feel Gerry’s shock in the seconds of silence that followed the announcement. I suspected that the griffon’s feelings almost perfectly mirrored my own. We were abandoning the mission? Just like that? “We’re leaving?” Gerry all but sputtered in disbelief. “Just like that?”

“If we’re being jammed, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Harriet reasoned in response.

“How about you try and unjam us! Aren’t you at the security terminal? Can’t you see what’s going on? We can’t just walk away this easily; we don’t know when we’ll have another chance like this!” Gerry protested.

“The jamming isn’t coming from here,” The nettrotter responded almost immediately, sounding audibly frustrated over the link. “Jenny says to ‘get the fuck out now’. This is an order, not a suggestion.”

“...Understood.”

A few seconds later, the door behind me opened and a clearly frustrated griffon and unicorn walked out, heading for the elevator. I quickly fell into step with the pair, grateful to not be placed into a position which risked another confrontation with the LCPD sergeant from earlier. Though I did share in their frustration as abandoning the mission so abruptly at the first sign of trouble.

We piled into the lift and began our descent towards the lobby. I glanced between the dour pair. “Do you think they―”

Gerry broke out into an abrupt coughing fit that interrupted my question. I stared at the griffon, and noticed that one of his wings was subtly gesturing towards the ceiling. I glanced up and noted the camera nestled in the corner. I nodded and switched back over to our arcanetic link. “Did they know we were coming? I assume jamming isn’t a normal thing?”

The griffon finished up ‘coughing’ and shook his head. “It had to be targeted,” he explained. “We sent out some test signals around the city, and even to Griffonstone, to be sure. We got responses from the automated systems at every other destination. It was just Equestria that was silent. Somecreature doesn’t want us talking to the princess.”

Well that certainly put a damper on things…

“I’m wondering if it wasn’t Equestria that’s responsible.” This theory was put forth by the purple unicorn stallion. At the griffon’s dubious look, he added, “think about it: that jamming would have to work both ways. Equestria can’t talk to us either. You’d think that if the princess couldn’t raise anycreature in Light City, she might start to wondering what’s going on and pop over for a little looky-loo.

“And yet…” He let the thought hang with a shrug.

Gerry clearly didn’t particularly care for that explanation any more than his own, his expression creased by a sour scowl. He let out a grunt. “Either way, it feels like we gave up too easily.”

Judging from the nod of agreement that the stallion gave, it looked like Dandy and I were both in agreement on that front. Though, that being said, while I’d only known the donkey for a relatively short while compared to the others, I felt that it could safely be said that Jenny was not exactly ‘timid’ by nature, or easily scared off. If she was scrubbing the mission at the first sign of trouble, then I felt that it was reasonable to believe that the donkey either knew something we didn’t, or she already had a fallback plan in mind. I shared my thoughts on the matter over our link.

Gerry mulled over my words, his features melding into a dubious frown at first as he also tried to reconcile the seemingly uncharacteristic order to retreat at the first hint of resistance with what he also knew of the headstrong donkey’s personality. Then the griffon’s eyes briefly widened, before narrowing critically. “You’re right. She probably does know something we don’t.” That was as far as he went with the thought though, electing not to elaborate on any theories he might have as to what it was that Jenny might ‘know’ about the jamming.

Before either Dandy or I could press him though, the doors opened. The donkey in question and Harriet were waiting for us on the other side of the doors. Without a word, the disguised rockerfilly jerked her head towards the building’s main entrance in a silent signal to follow her and the hippogriff. The five of us made our way out of the lobby, none of the other creatures in the room seemed to pay any particular note to the nearly half dozen uniformed LCPD officers heading out towards the waiting throngs of protestors.

It looked to me like the perimeter surrounding city hall had been widened since our arrival. I suspected that the brief surge which the crowd had experienced when we’d arrived had made those in command nervous and they’d imposed a larger buffer zone around the building. I also noted another collection of rather distinctively-attired ponies standing just off to the side of the door, and I couldn’t help but feel like their presence was contributing to the crowd’s willingness to have been pushed back: Max-Tack.

Just saying their name out loud was enough to get some boosterherds to scatter. Mostly because, when Max-Tack responded to a call, it was because the authorities had elected not to bother taking in any of the offenders alive. For all intents and purposes, the creatures of Max-Tack were a government-sanctioned kill team. To that end, they’d been given extensive arcanetic enhancements of the highest caliber to accomplish their job. So it didn’t surprise me that the throng of angry megasilo tenants had thought better of pushing their luck with one of their teams on site. I always got butterflies in my stomach when I so much as spotted one of their sky-carts flying in the distance.

I jerked in surprise when I felt myself bump into something. It took me a moment to realize that that ‘something’ had been Gerry. Apparently I’d been subconsciously trying to widen the distance between myself and the Max-Tack team and had managed to walk myself right into the griffon next to me. For his part, the tiercel seemed to have picked up on what happened, and though he didn’t do anything too blatant which might have drawn undo attention, I noticed that he allowed some of the primary feathers on his wing to ‘accidentally’ droop over my side, providing a sort of nominal ‘shield’ between me and the heavily armed and armored creatures.

In my head, I knew that putting a thin wall of feathers between myself and the Max-Tack officers didn’t actually do anything to change the situation; but it did still make me feel ‘safer’ all the same.

Presumably acting on a cue from Harriet, our disguised van pulled up with Barkly in the driver’s seat. The five of us hurried down the steps, filing inside as quickly as we could so that the painted panel van didn’t linger long enough for any officers nearby to notice that it wasn’t a properly armored vehicle. Fortunately, even with the crowd of protestors not being quite as rowdy as they’d been earlier―thanks to the presence of Max-Tack on the scene―the spectacle of thousands of yelling irate creatures was more than enough to focus the attention of the LCPD personnel forming the protective perimeter around city hall.

Jenny jumped into the passenger side while the rest of us climbed into the back. Barkly was already driving off before Harriet could get the door closed. It wasn’t until we’d cleared the outer barricades and the diamond dog driver had accelerated us up to city driving speeds that I felt the rest of the band members let out collective sighs of relief. We’d gotten into city hall and out again without getting caught, or the LCPD being any the wiser. Even if we hadn’t technically succeeded in our mission, I felt like that counted for a lot and was willing to let myself wear a small satisfied smile as a result.

I’d also managed to not spectacularly fail as keeping that one griffon out of the comms hub and fucking all of us over. So, yeah, I was riding pretty high right about now.

Up front, Jenny was peeling herself out of her uniform. “Fucking piece of shit mule-suit,” the donkey was muttering none-too-quietly under her breath as she balled up her uniform and tossed it into the back of the van, narrowly missing us. I idly contemplated whether it was permissible for a unicorn like myself to remark on her usage of the slur ‘mule’, but thought better of it.

Not that I’d have had time to comment on it if I’d wanted to, as I soon found myself to yet again be the target of Dandy’s attempt at flirtation. “I dunno, boss, they ain’t so bad,” the purple stallion opined as he feigned examining himself appraisingly. “Actually, I think I might know a way not to let these things go to waste.” The unicorn, who had once more managed to find the same bench I was on for the ride, leaned in and leered at me. “What say, when we get back, the two of us play ‘good cop; bad cop’ back at my place? I’ll be the ‘good cop’ and you show me just how bad you can be―”

“Zip it, Dandy!”

Silence reigned in the van, all eyes locked on me. After all, this time it had not been the band’s singer who’d reprimanded the purple stallion. The drummer gaped at me in mild shock, though he certainly didn’t look particularly angry at being rebuked. In fact, I noticed that his lips curled up into an amused little smile beneath dancing eyes. For a moment, I was afraid that I’d only further encouraged the unicorn to be even bolder and more blunt with his advances but, much to my surprise, the stallion instead backed off, scooting himself a respectable distance away from me in the back of the van.

“...Zippin’ it, lass.” He said with a respectful nod of his head.

Across from us, I noticed that Gerry and Harreit were exchanging glances, wearing smiles of their own. The griffon gave me an approving nod. A small bit of motion from the front drew my attention and I turned just in time to see Jenny shifting in her seat to resume looking out the windshield, a hint of a satisfied smile of her own visible on the side of her muzzle. In the corner of my eye, I noted that I’d also received a message from Harriet, in the form of a little hoof-bump animation.

Despite my recent display of bravado, I found myself flushing at the show of apparent praise that I’d received from the whole crew for shouting down Dandy’s uncouth advances. I was fairly sure that when Daisy heard about what I’d done, she’d have something to say about it too. Though, I did have to admit, it had felt pretty good to stand up for myself like that. Not unlike how I’d convinced that griffon sergeant to take a hike outside of the comms hub.

I felt…I wasn’t sure exactly how to explain it, but I wasn’t feeling as much like a spectator in the group as I had been before. There was finally this feeling like I could contribute to the missions, and that my contributions mattered. Heck, had it not been for the jamming that Gerry and Dandy ran into, the operation would have been a complete success thanks to my efforts in dissuading the LCPD officer from poking his head in. I’d stood my ground and not let somecreature trot all over me for once, and they’d actually listened to me! And not just anycreature, one who’d believed themselves to be my boss, basically.

I―Pel―had convinced a superior to let me get my way! For pretty much the first time in my whole life. And I wasn’t going to lie, it. Felt. Great.

My gaze wandered over to Gerry briefly, who was deep in conversation with Harriet. I idly wondered what else doing the whole ‘Assertive Pel’-thing could get me…

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 12: Silverhoof

“So, a little birdie told me that you let an LCPD sergeant know where he could stick it,” Daisy said with a broad grin as she brought out the salad that I’d asked her for. While I’d been fully expecting the little yellow earth pony to remark on what I’d said to rebuke Dandy in the van, I hadn’t expected her to comment on my performance during the operation at city hall. The mare used her talisman to drop off my salad and then made a loud, exaggerated, sniffling sound as she wiped a hoof across her eyes. “My little filly’s all grown up!”

“Ha ha,” I replied, snatching up the fork with my own arcanetic-supplied magic. I hesitated briefly before taking my first bite, eying the earth pony. “...Was that purely a figure of speech, or did either Gerry or Harriet actually tell you about it?”

The other mare blinked, then she sniggered. “Well, looks like somepony had some mild racism installed along with their new spine!” Her laughter only ratcheted up further in intensity when she saw me blanch at her remark. “I’m kidding!” She assured me, poking her tongue out from between her lips. “And, to answer your question: while I did just mean that as a figure of speech, I did hear about it from Harriet, yes.

“So it looks like I’m subconsciously bigoted too!”

“Gee, I feel so much better…” I deadpanned.

Somehow, Daisy’s grin got even broader. “Wow, I am loving this new ‘Sassy-Pel’! Tomorrow I’m taking you out and we’re going to get you a new look to match.”

I eyed the mare warily before looking myself up and down. That was when I realized that I was still wearing the police uniform that we’d been using as disguises to get past the barricades around city hall. Still, I knew that Daisy would have said the same thing even if I’d been wearing my usual blue vest, and while I wouldn’t profess to be any sort of trendsetter when it came to fashion, I hardly thought that there was anything that needed to be done to my ‘look’ which would ‘match me better’.

“What’s wrong with how I dress?”

Appearing to pick up on the fact that she’d struck something of a tender nerve, the other mare’s expression softened a little and the earth pony took a seat on a nearby couch. “Oh, honey, I’m not saying that because I don’t like how you dress,” she assured me, “but I do believe that the right outfit can help to inspire us to be the pony we want to be.” She paused, eyeing me with a little knowing smile. “Or, in some cases, the pony we wish we could be.

“Sometimes it can even give us that little nudge into becoming that pony we were scared of being, for whatever reason.”

I regarded Daisy with a mildly wary expression, not entirely what it was that she was talking about, but also unable to keep myself from imagining the sort of wardrobe choices she had in mind for me, given the sorts of outfits that I’d seen her wear in the past. It didn’t escape me either that those ‘joy-toy’ getups we’d dressed in to rescue the zebra had come directly from Daisy’s personal closet, and not some sort of communal ‘mission costume arsenal’, or whatever. The new me might be a little bit less timid, but I wasn’t feeling quite that confident!

The little yellow earth pony was sniggering again. “Oh, don’t look at me like that; I’m not getting all philosophical or anything. I’m just saying that pairing the right outfit with the right mare can help to bring out the real her…and not just the front that she’s been putting up to try and keep herself safe.” I balked, and the other mare’s smile waned slightly. “Like, say, dying her mane because she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself?”

I would have denied the insinuation, had I not been so caught off guard by the question that I’d immediately reached for my mane with a conscientious hoof. It was a ridiculously useless gesture, of course. It wasn’t like my hoof would be able to determine if the color had gotten washed out since I’d last touched it up. Still, my ‘secret’ was quite plainly ‘out’, not that it appeared to have been much of one. I sank in my seat, glowering at the other mare. “So I dye my mane; so what? Lots of mares dye their manes. Gerry dyes his crest!”

“Yeah, but most of us do it to add more colors, not to hide the ones we already have,” Daisy pointed out with a toothy grin. “Like Gerry’s crest.”

That gentle look of sympathy chased away the yellow mare’s mirth once more. “I’m not going to ask you why you do it; that’s none of my business. But I will say this: if you’re doing it because you think this new color adds to who you are, and is expressing the ‘you’ that you want to be, then great! I personally don’t think that color is very flattering on you, but that’s just my opinion; so feel free to ignore it and tell me to go fuck myself,” Daisy quipped with a wink and a brief poke of her tongue between her lips. Then the seriousness returned. “However…if you’re doing it to hide or not draw attention to yourself…

“I think that’s really sad. And I’d want to help you not feel like you have to do that.”

Something chimed from the direction of the kitchen, drawing the earth pony’s attention. “Oh, looks like the panettone’s done!” The little earth pony flashed me another warm smile before leaving me to my meal.

I sat in the Green Room for a bit, mulling over her statement, all the while my hoof idly combed at the back of my mane. It had been a little concerning to me exactly how accurately Daisy had managed to identify the reason I’d started to dye my mane. It had been as a means of keeping myself just a little less noticeable in Grinder’s boosterherd. While I didn’t know whether or not it had been particularly effective, given how often I’d seemed to draw the crimson stallion’s ire anyway, it had helped to at least make me feel like I was less noticeable.

Grinder was dead now, of course. As was the rest of the boosterherd. I also didn’t feel any particular need to hide from any of the creatures here―Jenny notwithstanding. So, I supposed that there wasn’t any great reason why I needed to keep bleaching out the colors in my mane…

It was food for thought anyway. Speaking of ‘food’, my salad was getting less crisp by the minute.

I couldn’t say as to whether the mission at city hall had really given me any sort of permanent boost to my self-confidence or not, but it had certainly given me quite the appetite. The salad didn’t last very long once I finally got started on it. Once it was gone, I messaged Daisy about the empty bowl and decided that I might as well head on up to the loft and see what there was in the way of dye-removal products on hoof, or if I’d need to go out and pick something up. After that, maybe a shopping trip with Daisy might be fun!

Maybe this time we could even avoid the accosting and dismemberment…

“―on’t give me any of that fucking bullshit, Jen!”

I came to a stop just around the corner as I heard Gerry’s voice carrying down the stairs leading up into the loft. My gaze darted up and down the corridor, but I didn’t see any sign of any other creatures nearby. I clamped my lips shut and craned my head as I continued to listen in on the heated exchange.

“You knew that we wouldn’t be able to get a message out,” I heard the griffon snap, my own eyes widening in response to the accusation. “You knew! I’m not going to ask how you did, but I do want to know what you and Harriet were really doing in that security office. Because you sure as shit weren’t looking out for us!

“There were a dozen different ways you could have diverted that officer that came by,” the griffon continued on. “There was no reason to put Pel at risk like that! So what was it that you were doing down there that you were too busy to lend a hoof?”

I blinked in surprise. Actually…that was a good point. Harriet had warned me about the approaching LCPD sergeant, but only just a few seconds before he came into view. She and Jenny should have known he was coming way before that though, being in the building’s security office. To say nothing of their ability to redirect the officer to other locations, either by giving him new orders, or even by triggering some sort of low-level false alarm. So why had they let us come so close to getting discovered like that?

“What’s the big deal?” I heard the donkey counter. “The filly did fine. Turns out a little stress did her some good. Don’t mind what we were doing―”

“Oh no! Nonononono, we are not playing these ‘compartmentalized information’ games right now!” Gerry interrupted. “This isn’t Purrsia and you’re not leading one of His Majesty’s spec-ops teams! We’re your friends, Jen; not your subordinates.”

There was a short pause and I heard the griffon let out a heavy sigh. “Just what is it that you think you’re protecting us from by not giving us the full picture, huh? What, do you think that if we ever get caught traipsing around inside some corpo’s secure areas that they’re going to take it easy on the rest of us because we didn’t know why we were there?” He let out a derisive snort. “Maybe they’ll only dump half a mag into us instead of a full one?”

“I’m not trying to ‘protect’ any of you,” I only barely managed to hear the donkey respond, as she was talking at a much lower volume than the irate tiercel. “There are just…certain realities that I don’t think all of you are ready for.”

“Ha! Like what?” Gerry challenged. “Exactly what is it that we’re ‘not ready for’?” The skepticism was palpable, as was my own curiosity.

Jenny, however, didn’t appear to be inclined to obliged the griffon. “Maybe someday I’ll clue you in.” There was a pregnant pause shared between the pair. In my head, I could imagine them glaring balfully at one another, as though daring the other to escalate things. Then, “I set up the ops. I call the shots. If you don’t like it, there’s the door. You can walk away any time.”

“Damn it, Jen,” came the guitarist’s exasperated reply, “I don’t want to leave, I want to help! We all do; so fucking let us!”

Another brief pause. “If you really want to help, then you can rework the chord progression for the bridge in ‘Alicorn Princess’. It doesn’t have the right feel; it needs to be way more aggressive. It’s going to be the lead song on the next album, so it needs to really grab the listener’s attention or they’re not going to buy it.

“The label needs this one to do decent sales or they’re going to drop us.”

“You’re un-fucking-believeable, you know that?” Gerry admonished in a thoroughly deflated tone. He let out a frustrated sigh. “...Fine. ‘More Aggressive’, huh? I’ll toy around with it and see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever,” was Gerry’s disgusted snort, followed quickly by the sound of paws padding their way heavily down the stairs.

I immediately stiffened as I realized that I risked being found out for eavesdropping. I glanced around in a panic and locked eyes on the nearest door. I bolted for it and tugged on the latch with my hooves, but it didn’t so much as budge. A muttered curse escaped under my breath as I looked around for somewhere else to hide…only to lock eyes from the purple-crested griffon as he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

“...Hey!” I greeted, mustering up as much cheer as I could manage, while propping myself against the locked door in what I hoped looked appropriately nonchalant. “Fancy seeing you here!” I instantly felt my smile grow strained as I heard the words escape my mouth. I’d have given the remainder of my organic body parts for the ability to snatch them back out of the air and shove them back down my throat, with the ultimate goal of choking to death on them.

Why was I so bad at this?

Mercifully, Gerry appeared to decide that I was making a sarcastic joke and gave a little chuckle. It seemed that he'd managed to shed the ire that he'd been feeling just a few seconds ago, which I was glad to see. “Like you, I finally figured that I should take this crap off and put it away,” he said, gesturing first to the LCPD uniform that he was wearing and then indicating the door that I was leaning next to. It was only then that I realized that the room that I had been attempting to hide in just moments ago was actually the band’s armory.

I immediately seized upon the offered opportunity to look more competent and forward thinking than I actually was. “Yeah, I can’t wait to get out of this shit,” I insisted. The earlier conversation with Daisy still on my mind, I followed up the statement with, “not my preferred clothing style at all!”

“I definitely think you’ll look better with it off, yeah,” Gerry agreed as he stepped up to the armory’s door and proceeded to unlock it. Which I found to be timely, as it meant that the tiercel wasn’t looking in my direction when my face flushed a deep crimson in response to how he’d phrased that last remark. My head whipped towards the Green Room as I could have sworn that I’d heard a mostly-muffled sound that was remarkably similar to Daisy wheeze-laughing. I might have only imagined it though. Maybe.

“You coming?”

I jerked in surprise and looked away from the direction of where I might have heard the earth pony mare listening in on our exchange, flashing him my best genial smile as I suppressed any intrusive feelings related to undressing next to the griffon. There was absolutely no reason that getting out of these disguises had to be treated as anything other than mundane and professional.

“After you!”

Okay, that time I definitely heard a laugh coming from the other side of the Green Room’s door. I flashed a quick glare in its direction before following Gerry into the now open armory so that we could put away our uniforms. Thanks to my being self-conscious as a result of Daisy’s surreptitious reactions, the process involved me giving way too much thought to how it was best for me to be oriented in regards to the guitarist while we undressed. Facing him meant that I would be watching the―quite well toned―tiercel as he stripped down, and I wasn’t entirely convinced that I could do that without outright staring. Conversely, facing away and disrobing while he was nearby made me feel like I was getting ready to do…other things.

In the end, I’d managed to settle from standing parallel to the griffon and pointed looking anywhere else in the room that wasn’t him. It was like being back in the locker rooms at school all over again…

The silence wasn’t helping matters. It meant that I could hear nothing but the sound of clothing leaving bodies, and that was doing my imagination no favors. I elected to try my hoof at conversation and hope that this time I could keep my mind from diving headlong into the gutter again. “So…any idea what our next move is going to be? Since that whole ‘call Equestria’ thing turned out to be a bust?” I cast an aside glance at the griffon, hoping that I’d managed to make it sound like I hadn’t overheard his conversation with Jenny while still broaching approximately the same topic. I was curious to see if he’d reveal to me what he’d learned from the donkey.

Gerry sighed. “I don’t know what Jen has planned,” he admitted. This was a true enough statement, given what I’d managed to hear. I noted that it left out some key details though. “She keeps a lot close to the vest.”

“Does she not trust you or something?” I’d meant the question to sound more innocent than it seemed the griffon took it, because I saw his talons instantly flex while he was holding his uniform, managing to tear a small hole in the shirt. I hastily added, “I mean like: all of us. Does she think we’ll run to the cops or something?”

He let out a resigned sigh and shook his head, hanging up the damaged uniform and then turning to collect mine. “No, nothing like that. I think what Jen’s worried about most is that we’ll think whatever she’s got in mind is either not worth the risk, or just too ambitious.

“She tends to set high expectations for herself.”

I passed Gerry my uniform, casting a wry smile at him. “Higher expectations than infiltrating Aeriesaka Tower and having us just…walk right in the front door of city hall under the muzzles of the entire LCPD? Exactly how much more daring does she think she can get?!”

I’d hoped to earn another chuckle from the griffon by highlighting the absurdity at the idea that Jenny could hope to top our already extremely risky and ambitious missions. However, I felt my own smile begin to wilt beneath his decidedly unamused expression. The griffon shrugged before putting away my uniform next to his. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “and that’s what worries me.”

Silence dominated once more as I passed over my pistol using my arcanetic levitation for him to put back in the cabinet. The pair of us finished locking everything back up and then exited the armory. Gerry secured the door behind us. “I’m gonna go get some lunch. Do you want anything?”

“I actually just ate,” I replied, nodding my head back towards the Green Room. “Maybe next time?”

“Sounds good.” A smile had finally returned to the griffon’s face. He stepped past me on his way towards the building’s rear exit, giving me a little wave of his talons on his way out. “Catch you later, Pel!”

“Bye…” I watched the door close behind him.

My eyes darted once more towards the Green Room door, narrowing slightly as I considered whether or not Daisy was still listening in on my conversation with the tiercel and if I should confront her about it. My interactions with Gerry were awkward enough without me having to also be self-conscious about whether or not the earth pony mare was hovering around the corner ready to revel in my missteps. Ultimately though, I decided that there were other―more pressing―issues that were worth my attention.

Such as whether or not Jenny and Harriet really had knowingly placed me in harm’s way back outside the comms hub, and why they might have done it. I felt my lips pulling back in a tight line at the idea that I was being toyed around with just for shits and giggles. If the donkey didn’t want me hanging around here any more, all she had to do was tell me to fuck off and leave. She didn’t have to try and get me killed!

I strode up the stairs into the loft and looked around for any signs of the singer. It wasn’t hard to spot her, as she was presently laying on one of the lounges, sipping a beer clutched in her hoof as she looked over some sheet music. Her sapphire eyes glanced in my direction over the tops of the sunglasses she always seemed to be wearing, noting my arrival, before turning her attention back to the music she was reviewing.

I stood at the top of the stairs for several long seconds, chewing on my lip as I mustered up the courage to speak. There was no denying that the donkey intimidated me. Our first meeting, and the feel of the gun barrel she’d pressed against the side of my head, were still vividly clear in my head. As was the look of cold fury on her face as she’d slowly and deliberately gunned down Grinder. And while I might not believe that anything I said to her here now would actually prompt her to outright kill me, I was still fairly sure that there were plenty of other things that she could come up with to do to me that would make me regret getting on her ‘bad side’.

Still, I had to know where I stood with Jenny if I was going to stick around here any longer. Because if she was just going to exploit and toy with me like Grinder had…well, I didn’t need more of that in my life.

“...Is what Gerry said true? Did you and Harriet really put me in danger with that cop deliberately?”

Jenny didn’t reply at first. She just looked back at me past her sunglasses for another silent moment before looking away again. I saw her lip tug back in a slight smile, though it was hard to read exactly what it was that the donkey was finding amusing right now. Did she find it funny that I was daring to confront her like this at all? I could imagine Grinder cackling in the cruel way that he did if I’d questioned any of the orders he’d given me.

…Right before he reared back and smacked me across the muzzle for my insolence.

I steeled myself for any sort of similar violent response on the part of the donkey. However, much to my relief, she didn’t lunge at me. She didn’t even scream at me. If anything, her response was as calm and collected as I’d ever heard it; if not a response that I particularly cared to hear. “We sure did.”

I balked, shocked both by the revelation as well as her willingness to brazenly admit it to my face. “Why?”

“To see how you’d handle yourself,” Jenny replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I wanted to see if you’d actually stand up to an LCPD cop when it mattered, or if you’d tuck your tail between your legs and roll over for him.”

“It was a test?” I said in a bewildered tone, my eyes wide. Jenny had put my life on the line to test me? I glared at the donkey. “What the fuck? I could have been killed!”

The donkey did not seem to be at all impressed by my righteous indignation and simply rolled her eyes dismissively at me. “We could all have been killed,” she retorted, still not sounding particularly concerned. “You breaking could have fucked the whole op. But you didn’t.”

“Why in the fuck would you gamble the whole mission on me?!” I demanded. I wasn’t even aware that the volume of my voice had risen, or that I was stomping closer to the jenny until I was only a few feet from her. By the time I was aware of it, I recognized that backing down would completely destroy any point I was trying to make. I was committed now, so I did everything I could to maintain my glare at the donkey. “I’m some dumb fucking filly you barely know off the street! How stupid do you have to be to risk the whole operation on whether or not I wet myself in front of an armed griffon twice my size!”

At least I managed to evoke a reaction out of Jenny this time. However, the fact that it was laughter both stoked my ire and undermined my confidence. I’d been doing my level best to intimidate her, but clearly that was not the effect I was having, much to my chagrin. “Depends,” she quipped, grinning at me, “how ‘stupid’ would you say somecreature was for thinking that they could take on Aeriesaka, or any other megacorp? Or to walk in the front door of city hall like we did in the first place?”

Now Jenny’s smile fell away, and in its place was one of her annoyed glowers that I’d come to associate with the donkey’s resting state. Much to my consternation, I recoiled and took a step back in response. “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have brought you along in the first place. Gerry would have been able to stand outside a door just as well as you could have.”

“Wait…was this whole operation a test?”

This question earned me a derisive snort. “You’re not quite that special, kid,” she informed me. “There was a real purpose to the op. I just took advantage of an opportunity to test your mettle.”

I was frowning now. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I didn’t entirely appreciate being deceived like that/ On the other hoof, it wasn’t like I wasn’t aware that I was being trained in some way or other by the rest of the crew. I was being taught to shoot and fight, I was being introduced to their contacts and shown how they do business, Gerry was even teaching me to play in their band―though I highly doubted that I’d be joining Hussar on stage any time soon. So it shouldn’t have been too surprising that, sooner or later, I’d be expected to perform ‘for real’ out on operations while not being directly supervised.

Not that any of that made me feel any better about being deliberately set up…

Then something that Jenny had said finally penetrated, prompting me to cock my head in confusion. “...did you just imply that I was special at all?” I gave my question a slightly mocking tone, thinking that I’d caught the donkey inadvertently giving me a compliment. I fully expected to receive some sort of denial or rebuke from her. Instead, I found myself surprised once again by the jenny’s seriousness.

“Every creature is at least a little bit special,” she said in a somber tone. The look that she gave me showed me eyes filled with a lot more remorse than I’d have ever expected to see in the donkey. “The greatest crime ever committed against us was when we were tricked into believing that our worth to the world was directly tied to the number of digits in our bank accounts.

“Why wouldn’t you be special?”

“I…” Words failed me for a moment as I unexpectedly found the conversation turned on me in a way I hadn’t been prepared for. Never mind that it felt like a question with an entirely obvious answer to it. “I’m not smart, or talented, I don’t have any real skills.” I gestured broadly at my flank. “I don’t even have a cutie mark,” I reminded her lamely.

Jenny didn’t seem to be the least bit impressed by my arguments. “Nocreature is born a genius who knows how to do everything,” she pointed out. “And a lot of you ponies don’t get your marks until later in life these days. Considering they’re supposed to be tied to discovering some great lifelong ambition or whatever―and hardly any of us down here at the bottom get the chance to ever be ambitious―that’s hardly a surprise.”

She glared at me again and poked me in the chest with her arcanetic hoof. “So cut that sad-sack shit; it’s getting old. You’re making a difference. You matter. Someday creatures are going to depend on you―they’re going to look to you for what’s right. You can’t be coming down on yourself over maudlin bullshit.”

“Why would anycreature look to me for anything?”

“Because the world isn’t frozen in place,” Jenny said with a mildly frustrated huff. “Time moves on, the older generation dies, and the next one has to pick up the slack. I’m not going to be around forever. Somecreature will need to pick up where I leave off.

“Why shouldn’t it be you?” She rolled back over onto her back and picked up her beer and the sheet music again. “You know…someday.”

I remained where I was, staring at the donkey in mild confusion. In my mind, I replayed all of the instances where Jenny had seemed to take an unexpected interest in me. Like bringing me in on her meeting with the minotaur. I’d thought that she was just trying to get me familiar with how things worked in general with this group. Now, I wasn’t so certain…

“Now get out of here,” Jenny said, giving me a dismissive wave of her hoof before I could delve into any further questions on the matter. “I’ve got shit to do and I don’t need you distracting me. Go find Barkly. She’ll probably appreciate help repainting the van.”

For a brief moment, I considered refusing the command and pursuing answers to my questions. However, while I might not quite be the same timid little filly I had been a week ago, I couldn’t deny that the prospect of pissing off Jenny scared me more considerably more than back-talking an LCPD griffon. Perhaps my curiosity could wait to be sated. In fact, who was to say that I couldn’t get some of my questions answered by the diamond dog I was being dispatched to help?

“Sure thing, boss,” I elected to say instead and turned to leave, nearly bumping into Daisy on my way out of the loft. The little yellow earth pony was floating a tray behind her that was topped with either a small cake or an oversized muffin. It was honestly hard to tell. I presumed that, whatever it was, it was the thing that Daisy had been baking in the oven earlier.

“Oop! Careful there, girl!” The smaller mare cautioned me as she deftly sidestepped me and trotted past. “Here you go, boss! I followed the recipe as best I could, but fair warning: there are exactly zero fresh eggs in Light City. I subbed in some applesauce which should have done the trick and not thrown off the taste too much…” Daisy let the caveat hang as she set the tray down next to the donkey, who was once more putting down the music and her beer.

“It’s fine, DC,” Jenny assured the mare. I paused in the doorway just before leaving, my ear twitching at what had sounded like an almost whimsical tone coming from the usually quite abrasive singer. I spared a moment to glance back at the scene. It was then I noticed that it wasn’t just the donkey’s tone which had softened. Her facial features looked uncharacteristically distant as she spoke. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to even get this close.” A pause as she took a moment to inhale deeply over the tray’s contents, followed shortly by a contented sigh. “It smells just like I remember…”

That was about the moment that Jenny seemed to notice that the loft was not nearly as empty as it was supposed to be, and she glanced in my direction with the more severe look that I associated with her. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“Right; sorry!” I winced and beat a hasty retreat down the stairs.

It didn’t take me much time at all to locate Barkly and the van, as neither had moved very far from where it had been parked when we returned from city hall. As I’d been led to expect, the band’s bassist was currently repainting the van in an effort to cover up the LCPD color scheme and lettering which had allowed it to pass―at a glance―as a police vehicle. Curiously, while it was clear that the van wasn’t being restored to its original City Center Cleaners appearance, I did find that I recognized what the colors being used were typically associated with.

“...Redheart Medical?” I asked the nearby diamond dog.

“Si!” Barkly nodded as she continued to spray down the van with an undercoat of ‘hospital sanitized’ white that it was hard not to associate with a medical vehicle. “Don’t know what exactly we’re gonna do with it,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “Stealing drugs and such ain’t our kinda thing.”

“Maybe we’re going to try and sneak in somewhere?” I suggested. “I bet a lot of creatures would just waive through an ambulance. Even private security and such,” I pointed out.

“Quizás.” She paused her painting and took a step back, surveying the van with a skeptical expression. “I ain’t never seen no ‘ambulance’ look like this though,” she remarked.

I had to agree with the diamond dog there. However closely we managed to match the livery, there was no way that any creature who saw this van was going to mistake them for a bona fide emergency vehicle. Which begged the question: why were they bothering then? I filed the question away for later, since it was obvious that Barkly hadn’t been let in on the secret yet either. They’d all just have to trust that Jenny knew what she was doing again.

That last thought prompted a sour expression to cross my face as I recalled how Jenny had apparently kept most of us in the dark about her intention to ‘test’ my resolve during the last mission. Thinking back over everything I’d overheard, I recalled a few other points that had stood out as well. For a number of reasons, I hadn’t taken the opportunity to ask Gerry about it―chiefly because I hadn’t wanted to reveal I’d been listening to their conversation. However, Barkly offered a similar chance for me to get my answers, and I could frame my questions as innocuous as I wanted with her being none the wiser.

“...So how did Jenny gain and knack for this sort of thing?” I prompted, finally stepping over to lend a hoof with the painting. “I mean, I feel like all of this underground secret shit isn’t something you pick up singing in bars?”

The diamond dog chuckled. “You’d be surprised what you learn in a bar.” She flashed me a sly wink, but then elected to give me a more grounded answer. “Na, jefa got proper trained. His Majesty’s Ebon Knights.” At my confused expression, she elaborated. “Griffon army. Special operations soldiers. They do all the things that aren’t fit to report on respectable television, but still needed done, ya know?

“Assassinations, bombings, that sort of thing.”

I was staring wide-eyed at the bassist, waiting to catch her lips cracking into a wide grin as she revealed that she was having more fun at my expense. The grin never came. Instead, when Barkly finally noticed my staring, she gave me a solemn nod. “Oh, yeah. She was a big bad bitch back then. Doing all the king’s dirty work.

“Then, one day, an op go bad. She lost half her squad and her leg. They discharged her the day she was let out of the hospital.”

“Hold on, wait; I thought she lost her leg in an accident at some factory? That’s what Gerry said…” Was everycreature here lying to me?

Barkly rolled her eyes and nodded. “That’s the ‘official story’, yeah,” she explained. “It’s what Jenny tells fans. Adds to the whole ‘the system fucked me, so now I’m fucking the system’ vide, ya know?

“I mean, she did work at that processing plant, and there was an accident that killed a few creatures that made her decide to leave. But that wasn’t how she lost her leg.” Another shrug. “The label figured our audience wouldn’t want to listen to counter-culture music if they thought the lead singer used to crack skulls for ‘the establishment’, ¿entendes?”

“Yeah, I…I guess?” I replied in a slightly listless tone as I struggled to process this new information. A part of me was still waiting to find out this had just been some absurdly long drawn out joke on Barkly’s part, but I was pretty convinced that it wasn’t. Especially since it lined up with Gerry’s comment on Jenny ‘not being spec-ops anymore’ that I’d overheard from earlier.

“Does everycreature in the band know about this?”

Barkly shook her head. “Daisy don’t. Dandy neither. The rest of us do though. Harriet and I were in her squad back then.”

Once more I found myself struck―to a degree that was almost physical―by how forthcoming the diamond dog was being about all of this with me. If there were indeed long-time members of the crew who didn’t know this―apparent―secret about Jenny’s past, then why was Barkly being so candid right now? Why was I entitled to know this?

I asked her, and the answer I received shocked me into silence: “Jenny told us the other day ain’t no secrets around you. None. You ask; we answer.”

I spared a moment to digest the irony that Jenny herself was apparently still willing to keep quite a few secrets from me, regardless of whatever her alleged instructions for the rest of the band might have been. Then I thought back over my experiences with the rest of the group’s members, almost trying to see if I could find an example which would undercut Barkly’s assertion. I wasn’t sure why. I supposed that I mostly wanted to assure myself that I wasn’t being treated so brazenly different from the rest of them for whatever reason. I wasn’t coming up with anything though.

To the best of my knowledge, I hadn’t been lied to, or had any question I asked go unanswered―except by Jenny, that is. I’d apparently been ‘tested’ by one or two of them over the past week―

A thought occurred to me which prompted me to narrow my eyes in annoyance. I glanced over at the diamond dog and decided that I was going to put her honesty to the test: “...Was Dandy really hitting on me this whole time; or was he just trying to see when I’d stop putting up with it?”

Barkly paused in her painting, looked over at me…and smiled broadly.

“...Mother fu―!”

Most of my explicative was being drowned out by the raucous laughter of the diamond dog, who was forced to drop her painting equipment in order to steady herself as she doubled-over from laughter. Meanwhile, I was stomping around in a furious huff like a filly in the midst of a tantrum―which probably wasn’t far off the mark, honestly. I wasn’t even entirely certain what I was pissed off at. I was just fairly pissed in general at being fucked around with.

No wonder all of that stallion’s slimy pick-up lines had seemed so hackneyed! They’d been intended to get under my hide! Although, now I was suddenly finding myself wondering whether or not I’d have had the same view of the stallion if he’d actually been trying to hit me up…

I cringed at the thought that the unicorn might actually be able to talk me into bed…and immediately felt a sense of relief at the realization that the thought repulsed me. I was probably safe. Hopefully.

After a few minutes, Barkly had recovered enough to be able to operate the sprayer again and the pair of us resumed painting the van. I didn’t ask her any particularly intrusive questions about either Jenny or the past of herself and Harriet with regards to their time in the Ebon Knights. Instead I kept things to Hussar and their music. Apparently it had started as some sort of ‘musical therapy’ or something that a counselor had suggested to deal with the mental trauma brought on by the years spent with the Knights. Eventually playing to relieve stress had evolved into playing to get out a message and they’d recruited the rest of the crew by drawing them in with that message.

Jenny really did believe in fighting against corporate greed and control. Not just because of the lethal factory accident she’d been a witness to either. It turned out that the operation that had gone sour and cost her a leg and most of her team, hadn’t strictly been in the interests of ‘protecting the nation and His Majesty’s subjects’. The donkey had learned later that the reason that they were in Purrsia to stage a coup…was because the new administration which had been elected wanted to renegotiate some trade deals with the Griffon Kingdom that would allow them to start collecting tariffs again. At the time―and presumably currently―only the Kingdom could levy import dues on trade with the abyssinians. The Purrsian government couldn’t collect anything.

However, it seemed that a number of corporations in the Kingdom didn’t want things to change, as it risked increasing the price of their goods in Purrsia, and thus cutting into their sales as the abyssinians moved to encourage domestic markets. So the executives of those corporations pressured the king to orchestrate a coup, which he did. While the assassination of the Purrsian’s head of state went off without a hitch, Jenny and her team were discovered, and not all of them made it out alive…or intact.

When Jenny finally learned that she hadn’t taken out some megalomaniac demagogue like she’d been led to believe, but instead some genuinely honest―by politician standards―cat trying to do right by their own country…she’d packed herself off to Light City as a way to leave her past behind.

That had been a sobering story to hear. It also explained why the donkey really seemed to have it in for organizations like Aeriesaka. This was quite personal for her. Not too unlike how it was for me, in a way…

My attention was drawn to a car pulling up to the back of the converted building. I’d initially felt myself tense up in anticipation when I caught sight of the armored limousine. However, when a batpony I recognized stepped out, I relaxed again. He took note of the pair of us and waved a leathery wing in greeting. I returned the gesture with my hoof and debated whether I should go over and speak with him, but before I could, Barkly regained my attention and put me back to work painting.

I obliged, but still kept some of my attention on Baton Rouge. If he was here, then that suggested that there was a pretty big mission in the works, right? Perhaps it even involved this van somehow?

A couple minutes later, I spied Jenny stepping out of the building and approaching the batpony. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but given the―surprisingly passionate―embrace the pair shared shortly afterward, I deduced this meeting was of a personal nature, rather than a professional one. A minute or so later, Jenny followed the batpony into the limousine and it left. I watched it leave with some curiosity. Perhaps they were going to work out details for an upcoming operation somewhere else? Back at The Glue Factory, maybe?

“Hey, chica!” Barkly called my attention back to the van. “Less staring, more painting!”

With that, my thoughts about the donkey and how she was going to spend the rest of her evening evaporated, supplanted by the need to transform our van.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 13: Valkyrie

Daisy is a no good rotten bitch and I hate her.

At least, that was the immediate thought running through my head when I stepped through the front door of ‘The Grotto’ and realized two things: First, I was woefully underdressed for this sort of establishment. Every other creature that I could see at the tables was wearing either a fine silk or satin dress, or a well-tailored suit of some sort. Meanwhile, I was just wearing my sleeveless faded vest like usual. The second thing I noticed as the host―who was wearing an understandably dismissive expression on his face―guided me to the table was that this was not, in fact, going to be a ‘team celebration event’ as the little yellow earth pony had described to me earlier.

This became clear to me when I saw that the table which had been reserved was actually a booth, and it was located near the rear of the upscale restaurant, and it was clearly only suitable for two creatures to sit at…and there was already a creature seated there. The creature in question was a very familiar gold and white griffon tiercel who had apparently been well aware that this place had a dress code and was wearing a very nice looking maroon blazer. He glanced up from the tiny little menu held in his talons as he noticed mine and the host’s approach and gave me a small wave.

She’d set me up! Why that conniving fucking c―!

“Can I get anything for the table to start?” Our pegasus stallion host asked tersely, favoring me with another brief displeased look before turning his attention fully to Gerry.

The griffon glanced my way, but I wasn’t ready to meet his gaze yet as I siddled onto the bench across from him in the―intimately close-quartered―booth. He then looked back to the host and said, “Just a couple of waters for right now.”

“Of course, sir,” the host acknowledged with a nod of his head. “...ma’am.” How had he managed to lace that one outwardly respectful word with so much thinly veiled derision? I was too impressed to be offended. Besides, I was actually a little onboard with his assessment that somepony like me didn’t belong in a place like this. If I’d known what this was, I wouldn’t have come.

However, I’d been tricked, and now it was too late. I had to ride this whole thing out and hope I didn’t die of embarrassment. Then―assuming I survived―when I got back to the loft, I’d kill Daisy…

For now, I just had to get through this dinner with my dignity intact. To that end, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly to try and calm my nerves. Then I tried adopting what felt like a neutral expression as I picked up the menu sitting in front of me and started to look through it. In the interest of breaking the silence hovering between us that I knew needed to be addressed eventually, I offered up some small-talk.

“Has anycreature heard from Jenny yet today?”

The donkey’s absence had been a topic of some conversation when she hadn’t returned by noon the next morning. While I had learned that Jenny skipping out with Baton Rouge for the night wasn’t something wholly unusual, she was usually back by midmorning. Or at least found a way to get word to the rest of the band if she was going to be held up until later. In this instance, however, there hadn’t been any word from her.

I hadn’t realized before how frustrating it could be to know somecreature who wasn’t equipped with the standard arcanetic interface suite that every other creature in the city had. It meant that there wasn’t any way to reach out to her directly and ping her with a clairaudience cantrip for a call. Or even a message.

“Actually, Harriet just sent me a message about an hour ago,” Gerry informed me. “Baton Rouge checked in with her and said he’d be bringing Jenny back later tonight.”

“Oh. Well, it sounds like the two of them had a lot of fun, I guess.” Daisy had alluded to me a while ago that Jenny and the batpony were ‘more than friends’; but that mare did a lot of alluding, and I’d since decided that some of what she said was best taken with a grain of salt. So I’d hedged my comment a little while also eyeing Gerry from over the top of my menu while I waited to hear confirmation one way or the other from a more reliable source.

Gerry snorted under his breath. “Even odds whether she’s still drunk or grinning like a donk when he drops her off,” he muttered while wearing a knowing smirk. “Either way, she’s not going to be walking straight ‘til morning…”

I felt my cheeks flush in spite of myself. I then quickly chased away the mental image I had of a ‘trot of shame’ Jenny Silverhoof ambling down the corridor. If only because it felt wholly unnatural to picture Jenny wearing a genuinely happy smile on her face. I also had to work very hard not to envision the gifted attributes―or raw talent―which any stallion who could produce such a result must possess.

A change of topic was in order. “So what’s good here?” I asked a little too abruptly, even to my own ears. I hid my wince behind my menu, and only now actually focused on the listed items and their prices. My eyes went wide enough that there might actually have been a real possibility of them falling out of my skull. “A side salad is how much?!”

I heard the restaurant go deathly silent around us, and I suddenly felt the burning stares of every well-dressed diner in sight being turned on me. My menu offered scant protection from their judgment. All I wanted to do at that moment was sink right through the bench of the booth and descend into the bowels of Tartarus. Hellfire would have felt cool compared to how much my cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

And not just because of the attention I was being paid by the other patrons present either. My thoughts immediately shifted to how many large salads that I’d eaten while in the Green Room and, by extension, how much money I must have been costing the team with my―apparently―indulgent eating habits. A quick bit of mental math suggested that I’d been eating more in one sitting than I’d typically spent on food in a month. Factoring that in with what my augments must have cost when they replaced my jaw and hind legs after the raid on Grinder’s warehouse, I was pretty sure that my grandfoals were going to be working off my debts. Fuck my life…

“I think I should just stick with the glass of water,” I muttered under my breath as I put down the menu, no longer able to stomach looking at the prices. “Just the one.” The menu had stipulated that refills were not free. “On an unrelated note: can you spot me fifteen gibbies?” I asked the griffon meekly. “...Plus tax?”

Gerry had the good grace to only softly chuckle over the miserable state of my nonexistent finances. Then he paused and glanced at me over the top of the little booklet in his talons. “...You’re serious?” I winced and looked away as shame knotted my stomach. I heard the tiercel curse, and expected him to make some comment related to my being useless or worthless. I was quite used to that little song and dance. But, instead, I heard Jenny’s name escape from between his clenched teeth. “That fucking―” the epithet devolved into a grumbled snarl, followed by, “she really hasn’t been forwarding you your cut?”

I met the griffon’s gaze once more, confusion plain on my face. “My ‘cut’?”

“You know, for the ops?” He prompted, but still I didn’t quite register what he was talking about and shrugged to signal my lack of understanding. “You didn’t think we expected you to risk your life for free, did you?”

“Well, I mean…” I started kneading my hooves in my lap. “I know my arcanetics must have been expensive.” I rubbed an idle hoof over my relatively new thigh. “And then there’s the room and the food…I figured it was all balancing out or something.”

“What?! No! You got hurt helping us avenge Hash Stack; getting you fixed up was the least we could do! You don’t owe us for that―if anything, we still owe you!” Gerry insisted, almost sounding affronted at the notion that they would have financially indentured me like that. In stark contrast to exactly how Grinder had done. “And putting you up at the loft doesn’t cost us a thing; so we’re certainly not going to charge you for it.

“You’re supposed to be getting an even cut for the jobs like the rest of us…” he growled under his breath, looking over his shoulder towards the exit as though he expected to see the donkey walking in right at that moment to be yelled at. Then he let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

He forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself so that he wasn’t using a frustrated tone while talking to me, which I appreciated. When he let it out again, his expression was far less critical as he looked back at me. “I’ll talk with Jenny and Daisy when we get back,” he assured me. “Trust me, you can afford to eat here. I’ll spot you now and you can pay me back later. If you want.”

He gestured at the menu at my hooves. “So, yeah, order whatever. Treat yourself; you’ve earned it.”

A timid little smile managed to work its way onto my cheek at the griffon’s assurance. Though I found it hard to envision what ‘treating’ myself would look like, given how I had been regarding those fresh salads back in the Green Room as something approaching the height of luxury. I pushed aside the concerning notion that Jenny had been hiding money from me for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like I didn’t already know that the donkey was tight-lipped and hard to read. I’d let Gerry tackle the issue.

After all, I certainly didn’t want to confront the donkey to her face about a topic as potentially thorny as finances. I might ask Daisy about it though, seeing as how she was the mare handling their finances. Maybe she could help shed some light onto what had fallen through the cracks where my compensation was concerned.

…Then I’d punch her in the face for trying to so brazenly hook me up with Gerry like this.

I floated the menu back up with my arcanetics. “...Okay.” My eyes danced over the contents again, finally drifting to the items in the little booklet which had had associated prices which had made me reflexively avoid even looking at their names, as there would have been little point in even glancing at what I clearly couldn’t have. Now though, I found myself confronted with other issues. While my arcanetics projected some illusionary script which translated the foreign writing, I found that, even when described in Ponish, I had absolutely no idea what it was that the menu was talking about.

What even was a ‘confit’?

“Does this menu come in Ponish?” I asked through a slightly uneasy chuckle as I once more set the menu down.

Gerry’s beak creased with a smile as he continued skimming through the options. “I’ve never actually had Fancy cuisine either,” he admitted.

“Really? Daisy makes pretty elaborate layouts,” I noted, thinking back to the meal presentations I’d seen her serve.

The tiercel looked up and cocked his head for a moment, clearly confused by my statement. To the point that I wondered if I’d somehow said something that didn’t make any sense; though I couldn’t see how. Then comprehension dawned on Gerry’s face and he let out a small laugh. “No no no; ‘Fancy’ as in: ‘coming from Prance’. A region of Equestria.”

“...Oh.” I shrank down in my seat once more, feeling like an idiot again. Maybe I could excuse myself to the restroom and just…never come back out? Would that be easier? Probably not. It’d probably just make it more awkward later.

The griffon frowned. “You know, it’s okay not to know something. Nocreature is born knowing everything there is to know. You shouldn’t come down on yourself on stuff like that.” He leaned forward, favoring me with a sympathetic smile. I couldn't help but instantly reflect on how I'd received a nearly identical such talk from Jenny yesterday. Perhaps there was actually something to that advise then, if Gerry was agreeing with Jenny.

Then he followed that sentiment up with something the donkey hadn't said to me: “I happen to think you’re pretty amazing, if that means anything to you.”

It very much did; and I didn’t need my racing heartbeat to clue me into how much I enjoyed hearing that praise from the griffon. I felt my cheeks flushing again.

…I really needed to ask if there was some sort of mod I could get for my jaw that would help with that.

“Thanks.”

“Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em,” he assured me. “We’ll get a server to help us with the menu.”

As if that was the line they’d been waiting to hear, a pegasus mare wearing one of the cafe’s uniforms showed up at our table carrying a pair of glasses of water. She set them down between us and was kind enough to help Gerry navigate the menu and make some recommendations for our meal. By the end of their conversation, it had been settled that we’d start with something called ‘fawn-dew’ as an appetizer. Then Gerry would have ‘cock-oh-van’―which earned a snigger from me every time it was spoken aloud―and I’d have something that I was assured―repeatedly―wasn’t actually made from rats, in spite of its name. Even by the time the pegasus server left, I wasn’t sure she and Gerry weren’t just fucking with me for laughing at the ‘cock’ thing.

When the server left to put in our orders, another uncomfortable silence descended over the table, causing me to squirm slightly in my seat. I caught myself glancing around at other diners nearby, and saw that they consisted mostly of other couples sequestered in their own little booths. This cafe clearly had something of a ‘theme’ going on, and it was glaringly obvious what it was. I wondered if it was too much to hope that Gerry hadn’t noticed.

“...This wasn’t really your idea, was it?”

The question caught me off guard and I whipped my head back around to look at the griffon. “What?”

“Coming here,” Gerry explained, waving a claw around at the cafe. “Daisy said that you ‘really liked me’, and that you wanted to have dinner together. I’m thinking that wasn’t actually the case?”

“Daisy said…” I blanched. Somehow it didn’t make me feel any better that I wasn’t the only one that the little earth pony had misled about this evening and effectively tricked into going out on a date. I let out an aggravated groan and buried my face in my hooves. What had that mare been thinking?!

“Don’t take it so hard. That pony’s been trying to fix me up for a while now,” the tiercel said with a soft chuckle in what I presumed was an attempt to make me feel better. “She says that a guy like me is ‘too nice to be single’.”

I raised my head up, eyeing the griffon with a confused expression. Wait…Daisy was fixing him up? With me? Was I supposed to feel better about being the one being dangled out there like a prize, or worse? She and I were going to have a long talk either way. Though, for the moment, I seized onto an opening to direct the conversation and hopefully lift some of the awkwardness surrounding this fiasco of a ‘date’.

“Why are you still single?” I asked. Then I hurriedly followed up my question with an addendum that made it sound a lot less critical than I’d meant it. “I mean, you do seem like a great guy, and I can’t imagine you don’t have all sorts of mares or hens knocking down your door.” I paused for another moment, considering. “...Or stallions?”

Gerry chuckled again. “I lean towards preferring the ‘fairer sex’, yes,” he confirmed with a smile. “And you’re right: I can’t flap a wing after a show without a feather landing on some pretty little hen eager to follow me back to my room.” The smile waned now. “That’s not the issue.”

“...So what is?”

“There’s no appeal there,” the tiercel said with a sigh. Then he added by way of caveat, “Not anymore, anyway. A much younger―and hornier―Gerry didn’t miss many chances to get his dick wet. But now…” He shrugged. “Sex is overrated. Especially if it’s just sex for the sake of having sex.”

“Tell that to Dandy,” I scoffed, thinking of the drummer’s cutie mark-studded vest he wore during performances.

Gerry nodded and laughed along lightly. “Different strokes,” he offered. His phrasing prompted another snigger from the both of us. “Like I said: I didn’t used to be much different. Over time though, my view on it changed, and it started to make me uncomfortable.”

“How do you mean?”

Now Gerry squirmed slightly in his seat, briefly hesitating as he seemed to debate how much detail he was willing to share with me. Then, finally, “I started to notice that I could make the hens and mares who came back with me…do things. Like, things that―looking back now―they probably weren’t actually comfortable with doing, even though they’d come back to my room totally willingly.

“At the time, I was too horny to really notice, but now―with a decade’s worth of post-nut clarity―I think I was taking advantage of the fact that, for them, I was this really important figure in their lives and they didn’t want to feel like they’d disappointed me or let me down; and so they’d agree to do things I was telling them to do…even though it wasn’t what they wanted to do.” His features had creased into a grimace at this point. “I never actually forced anything―I don’t think―but I know I got pretty insistent a few times until they'd finally give in.

“In the moment, I didn’t see any issue with any of it. I was a rockstar; they were my groupies,” he gave a sarcastic flick of his talons as he rolled his eyes. “They were ‘supposed’ to fuck me, right? That’s what groupies did, and that was one of the perks of being a rocker.” I vaguely nodded along, familiar with the commonly accepted stereotype for how the relationship worked between well-known musicians―or any celebrity, really―and their more adoring fans.

“It wasn’t until later in life that I took a step back and really looked at what was happening, and realized that what I was doing wasn’t…entirely ‘right’. I had power over those hens and mares, and I was using that power to get what I wanted out of them.” The griffon glanced over at me. “Not entirely unlike what those corporations are doing to the rest of us, in a way.

“When I realized that there was that very real imbalance that existed, I swore off taking fans back to my room after shows. As time went on, and I thought back on how those encounters had felt―like, really felt―I started to realize that it didn’t hold a lot of real appeal for me anymore. Sexual gratification without intimacy―real intimacy―is just…empty. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it.”

As Gerry’s explanation wound down and silence descended once more over our table, the griffon began to fidget again. “Sorry. That was probably a lot more detail about my sex life that you wanted to hear.” He offered me an apologetic smile and cleared his throat, glancing around to see if he could catch sight of our server or our orders.

“No! Well, I mean, maybe a little,” I countered, fiddling with my hooves on the table as I tried not to think too much about Gerry fooling around with a bunch of hot mares and hens on his bed after a show. I was definitely not envisioning a hypothetical scenario where I was one of them. Definitely not. “But I have to admit that I never quite thought of it that way: celebrities having ‘power’ over fans, I mean.”

“I don’t know that it’s always quite as toxic as I’m making it out,” the tiercel qualified. “Dandy would point out that they’re grown creatures, and they’re fully capable of making their own decisions, and that it would be kind of ridiculous to propose that the only ‘reasonable’ partners creatures like us should limit ourselves to is other celebrities or something,” he offered with a shrug. Then he snorted and a wry smile flickered across his beak. “That’s debatably 'elitist classism'. Or something like that.

“And I’m sure that there were plenty of times where some fan was just using me as a way to gain clout among their friends or something too. I don’t like being thought of being ‘bragging rights’ any more than I like racking up a high bedroom body count. None of that shit interests me anymore.”

“So…what would interest you? Hypothetically?”

“Somecreature with shared interests. Who’s easy to talk to.” He smiled and let out a soft snort. “Who maybe just wants to sit around and be held for a while. Little things like that.

“I know that probably sounds a little stupid or whatever.” I found myself witness to the rare phenomenon that was Gerry blushing this time. “Not a very ‘hard’ thing for a 'hard rocker' to want, right?”

“No, I think it’s sweet,” and I did. I continued to play with my hooves for a few more seconds. As much as I might have resented Daisy for orchestrating this encounter, I might have to admit that it had presented me with something of an opportunity. If I was willing to take the leap, that is…

“...I like talking with you.”

I tried not to hold my breath as I awaited the griffon tiercel’s response to what was hopefully not too blatant a statement of interest. It probably didn’t help that I couldn’t hold Gerry’s gaze when he looked back at me, electing instead to stare at my hooves.

“I like talking with you too, Pel.” I felt my chest swell with excitement. Then he followed up his statement with, “and I like hanging out with you a lot too.” My heart skipped an initial beat, but then I felt myself start to despair almost immediately afterward. Something about the griffon’s tone had suggested that there was a―

“But…” Oh fucking damn it! “I think we should stay friends.”

There was no way that Gerry missed the pained wince which creased my features. The cliche rejection had hit me pretty hard, after all. So he was kind enough to continue on and try to further soften the blow to my self-esteem. “And that’s not because I think that there’s anything wrong with you,” he assured me.

“So, then what is it?” Oh, wow; that came out way more bitter-sounding than I’d intended it. I immediately cringed and was about to try and claw back my words, but Gerry held up his talons and nodded his acknowledgement of my un-voiced apology.

“First, before I do that, I want you to answer a few questions for me: what’s my last name?”

I blinked in mild confusion at the griffon. Then I opened my mouth to respond and…Huh. I…didn’t actually know what his last name was. I couldn’t recall anycreature actually saying it out loud. Nor had I ever thought to look it up, I didn’t think. If I had, I’d apparently forgotten it by now. Which wouldn’t have been any better than never knowing it in the first place.

As though fully anticipating my silence, Gerry nodded and posed his second question: “What hobbies do I have? And, no, music doesn’t count; that’s my job. I have actual hobbies. What is one of them?” Again there was a protracted silence from my side of the table that didn’t seem to surprise the griffon at all. If there was any silver lining, he didn’t look particularly annoyed or disappointed by my lack of responses. He went on to pose his third question. “What foods do I like?” More―apparently―fully anticipated silence from me.

To his credit, Gerry was not dismissive in tone or expression. If anything, he was still being quite soft with his questioning, and was clearly just trying to make a point. A point which I was slowly―if grudgingly―getting. “Can you tell me anything about me that would justify you wanting to pursue a relationship?” He asked, fixing me with a patient look.

“...You’re really nice to me,” I didn’t quite mumble in response, recognizing how lame an answer that probably was.

Gerry reacted like he had actually expected that to be the reason, or at least something very similar. I wasn’t sure if that made things better or not. “You probably don’t encounter a lot of creatures that are nice to you, huh?” I shook my head slowly. Until being inducted into this crew, I could count on my hooves how many individuals in my life had ever even given me the time of day. My mother, Hash Stack, Gary down at the bar…Not many beyond that, really.

I jerked slightly as I felt the griffon’s talon lay over my idly fidgeting hooves. Gerry leaned in, craning his head down so that he was almost eye-level with me. I could see the genuine sympathy in his gaze as he spoke. “I’m really sorry your life has been like that. Truly. You deserved better. Anycreature does.

“But…you see how that can’t be enough for this to be anything more, right?” He asked hopefully. “If I cashed in on you latching onto the first ‘nice guy’ who’s primary redeeming quality is that they didn’t immediately treat you like shit…that’s a kind of ‘power’ that I’d be holding over you, like I was talking about earlier.

“What would you be willing to do for me, just so that I continued to be nice to you? What if I casually mentioned that I’d be disappointed in you unless you did ‘X’ for me? What would you be willing to submit to just to hang on to the first ‘good guy’ you’ve had in your life and not be alone again?

“Tell me, honestly, that there’s no way you’d allow yourself to be emotionally coerced and manipulated by things I said, even if I didn’t mean them to be?

“Tell me you’d be completely comfortable telling me: ‘no’.”

I felt myself swallowing back a lump of fear as I digested the griffon’s questions. Not fear at the prospect that Gerry might actually exert that kind of emotional control over me―or any other creature, for that matter―but fear at the realization that he was absolutely right: I wasn’t entirely sure what lines I wouldn’t cross if Gerry asked me to, in my desperation to feel ‘loved’ by a ‘nice guy’. It was a repulsive thought, and I felt myself sinking low into my seat at the table.

The tiercel gave my hooves another squeeze. “Pel. Pel! It’s okay. It’s okay…” he cooed in a soothing tone, coaxing me once more out of my slump. “It’s not your fault you’ve been treated like shit your whole life. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not ‘weak’, or ‘pathetic’, or anything else like that you might be thinking. You just didn’t know that you deserved better, and that’s not. Your. Fault.

“You’re stronger than you know, too,” Gerry went on, favoring me with a warm smile. “You stood up to that cop in city hall. You told Dandy to sit and spin.” He flashed me an infectious grin this time that managed to draw a tiny little smile out onto my own lips at the memory, despite my melancholy. “You stood up to Grinder and helped us take his whole crew down. You stared death in the face, and you didn’t blink.

“You are―genuinely―one of the bravest and strongest mare’s I know. I sincerely mean that. I am proud to consider myself one of your friends and I’m glad I have you in my life.

“The fact that I’m not comfortable slamming you against my headboard…that’s more of a ‘me’ issue than a ‘you’ issue,” Gerry’s smile became more lopsided even as I felt the color briefly drain from my face right before my cheeks flushed once again as I pictured the proposed scene in my head. My reaction earned me a chuckle from the tiercel.

“Tell you what though: There’s nothing that says we can’t revisit this topic again someday,” he pointed out. “So how about this: One year from now, we’ll come back here,” he pointed down at the table sitting between us, “and we’ll talk and see if―maybe―we’re both interested in escalating from ‘comrades-in-arms’ to ‘input-output’. How does that sound?

“Friends now; maybe something more sometime later.”

My most recent blush resulting from Gerry’s headboard crack was starting to fade from my face as I mulled over the proposal. It wasn’t a wholly unpleasant proposition, I admitted to myself. Besides, Gerry had made a lot of good points, and some of them had gotten me to start thinking over a few things. Chief among them: did I really want a relationship right now? Or had I just really liked the prospect of being around somecreature who was nice to me? If Gerry was going to continue to be nice to me whether I was letting him under my tail or not…then why couldn’t things stay the way they were?

Which wasn’t to say that the thought of having my face pushed up against the griffon’s headboard while he was looming over me wasn’t doing something for me…

Friends for now. Headboard-slamming…maybe later. Maybe.

“I think that I really like having you as a friend, yeah,” I agreed, smiling at the tiercel. “Though let’s hold off on meeting here―specifically―until we’ve at least tried the food first.” I eyed him with faux suspicion. “I’m still not fully convinced you didn’t order me a rat for dinner.”

“Ha! Fair enough,” Gerry conceded as he finally pulled back and made himself more comfortable in his seat. “Agreed. You’ll eat your rat, I’ll see how much I actually like ‘cock’,” I sniggered again, because it turns out I’m actually still an immature filly at heart, “and then we’ll decide if Fancy cuisine is really for us. Or if we’d be better off meeting up at a Burger Princess somewhere.”

“Deal,” I confirmed with a nod. “And, either way, when we get back home, we totally need to figure out how we’re going to fuck with Daisy for tricking us into doing this.”

Gerry nodded. “We also can’t let her know that it actually did kind of work out in the end,” he pointed out.

Ooh, that was a good point. If that little mare ever learned that she’d mostly succeeded in getting Gerry and I to cement what our relationship was as a result of her machinations, we’d never hear the end of it. She might even be spurred on to orchestrate more meddling in our future. That this had all worked out for the best was besides the point, I felt. The fact was that she’d suckered us, and thus we were obligated to get her back somehow.

“Definitely not.” I nodded. Then a thought occurred to me. “Out of curiosity, what is your last name, anyway?”

“Aerodynamic. Gerry Aerodynamic.”

“Oh. I like it.” I was also definitely not thinking about how it would roll off the tongue following my own name. We planned our mutual retribution over lunch, which was surprisingly delightful―and also one hundred percent rat-free, it turned out!

Our retaliation against Daisy for setting Gerry and I up on our ‘date’ proved to be in need of postponement. We were only just finishing up our entrées when Harriet reached out and informed us that Jenny wanted us all back in the loft right this moment so that she could brief us on the operation that we were―apparently―running tonight. Gerry expressed some concern about the short suspense time for conducting another mission, but Harriet replied that Jenny was very insistent that it couldn’t wait.

Unsurprisingly, we were the last to arrive at the loft. It looked like we weren’t the only ones who were a little put off by the lack of warning on this operation too. This was becoming something of a theme, it felt like. Granted, I wasn’t as familiar with how the donkey did things normally, but it seemed like those who did know here also weren’t comfortable with such tight timetables. The mission into city hall had ultimately worked out, sure, but that didn’t mean that these high-risk operations should continue to be conducted from the hip.

What was surprising was that there was one more creature present in the loft than usual, though it was one that I recognized: Baton Rouge was sitting off to the side on one of the couches, sipping idly at a mixed drink that I presumed Daisy had brought for him. I cast a questioning gaze at Gerry, but the griffon merely shrugged in ignorance and guided us to an unoccupied lounge.

When Gerry and I had finally seated ourselves, Jenny paused to eye us like it had been our fault we showed up ‘late’ to a meeting we hadn’t been told about until less than an hour ago. Then she finally spoke up. “Now that we’re all finally here,” the donkey stressed in mild annoyance, “we can begin.” The tiercel beside me merely rolled his eyes before deciding that he needed a drink if he was going to be subjected to the donkey’s passive abuses. He stood back up and walked over to the fridge to fetch himself a beer. He offered one to me, but I declined. The griffon then turned and held out the second beer towards Jenny.

The donkey was just about to reach out and take it, but then hesitated and shook her head, earning a slightly surprised look from the griffon, who continued to hold out the beer as if he didn’t believe that Jenny had actually meant to turn down the drink. The donkey glared at him and shook her head more insistently, prompting the griffon to finally relent and place the second beer back into the refrigerator before reseating himself.

“The more observant among you,” Jenny continued, “will likely have noticed that the van has another new paint job.” She pointed at Barkly who smiled and nodded. “That’s because we need to sneak into a Redheart Medical clinic. Specifically, Trotson Clinic.”

“Why Trotson specifically?” Dandy inquired.

Jenny and Rogue briefly shared a look before the donkey decided that she was willing to provide an answer to the question. “...Because there’s a Health Harras airwagon sitting on the rooftop pad there getting serviced tonight.”

I doubted I was the only one who instantly made the logical connection between that information and our intent to go there, but it was Gerry who decided that it still behooved explicit confirmation of our objective. “We’re stealing a Health Harras airwagon?” Jenny nodded in confirmation. “Are you going to tell us why?”

“Because Health Harras’ transponders grant them de facto clearance into any and all airspace around the city,” the donkey replied simply. “They don’t trip automated security alerts when they approach.” Another brief pause and a look towards the batpony before addressing the rest of the group with obvious reluctance. “...not even for the Anzû.”

I felt decidedly out of the loop when I was the only one who didn’t immediately gasp and stand up to voice their objections. “It’s here?!” “Have you finally lost your fucking mind?!” “You can’t be serious!” “We’re going after the King?!”

Jenny had obviously been prepared to receive a…let’s call it a: ‘less than enthusiastic’ response to her revelation and didn’t seem the least bit put off by the yelling and cursing, waiting for the rest of the band to get the shock out of their system before she spoke again. “We knew he was coming,” the donkey reminded us, “we learned that at Aeriesaka Tower. And of course he was going to be coming here on the Anzû. He treats that dreadnought like it’s his personal fucking yacht. He doesn’t leave his palace without it.

“And I am damn serious,” Jenny said, glaring at each of us. “This is our chance―our only real chance―to remove the source of all the fucking bullshit and strife in this city! You think it’s Equestria that turned Light City into a suck-fest? You really think that the Princess Twilight Sparkle in that journal would let any of this happen?” She gestured broadly around the room, though she clearly meant the city beyond the walls.

“Obviously it’s the griffons―or at least their king,” Jenny amended with a look in Gerry’s direction, “who are enabling the megacorps who are responsible for all of this shit. We take him out―cut the rot out at its source―and maybe this place can finally start to get right.

“Because what we’ve been doing up until now hasn’t done fucking squat, has it?” The donkey looked over at Dandy. “How many of your investigative exposés have you broadcast over the years? And what has ever changed as a result?” She challenged. The unicorn stallion squirmed a little uncomfortably in his seat, his lips pulling into a bitter smile at the recognition of how impotent his efforts had been in aiding the group’s crusade against corporate injustice.

“Did any of you see the latest news from city hall last night?” Jenny asked. Nocreature answered, but it was plain on all of our faces that we knew what she was talking about.

A press conference had been held late last night. In it, the mayor had outlined the city’s intended plan of action to address the problems caused by Elysium’s sudden financial insolvency: The city was going to pay their debts for them.

That was it.

Light City’s taxpayers were going to refill Elysium’s coffers, and then the company was going to get to go on with business as usual. There had been some remark about investigating the disappearance of the funds and such, but it had sounded more like an afterthought than anything else.

One of the reporters at the event had at least thought to ask about the company’s practice of extorting tenants through the use of boosterherds―a revelation about Elysium that had unfortunately managed to fall by the wayside in the wake of the embezzlement scandal. This too had been waived aside by an affirmation that the LCPD would be cracking down harder than ever before on ‘suspected herd activity’ in Haywood. Checkpoints and cordoned sweeps of neighborhoods would be conducted periodically in an effort to round up and disperse the boosterherds.

As though that had been the ‘real’ problem; and not the fact that Elysium’s leadership had effectively hired mercenaries to shake down their tenants.

It was disheartening, but not wholly unsurprising, that all of the group’s efforts had amounted to nought in the end. Things would go on, business as usual. Just as Gerry had predicted. At best, Elysium might keep things lowkey for a while.

“Exactly,” the rockerfilly snorted. “No consequences. No change. Just about everycreature went back to their homes, ready to put up with the same fucking shit all over again. The system remains intact and unblemished,” she spat. “But!” She held up her arcanetic hoof. “We saw that, when pushed, the creatures in this city will try to make their voices heard. The problem is that they stopped just short of the goal line.

“What they need is a ‘spark’,” she explained. “And the king’s death can be that spark. We take him out, we show the city that the system isn’t invincible. Those fuckers fucking us over aren’t untouchable. That creatures of action, who are willing to go the distance, can remove the obstacles standing between them and real change!

“If the fucking king can be taken out, then surely some feckless mayor, or corrupt police chief, or any of those mobsters posing as corporate CEOs, can all be removed! If we do this, it could finally be the start of the whole system coming down once and for all!”

As impassioned as the donkey’s words might have been, and I had to admit that I felt my own chest swelling a little at some points, it was pretty clear that not everycreature was on board with the plan yet. It was Gerry who voiced the largest of our concerns though. “And you figure the place to start is aboard the flagship of the Griffon Kingdom’s Royal Navy?” There was an understandable amount of skepticism in the tiercel’s question.

Jenny didn’t appear to be the least bit phased by the implication though, nodding vehemently. “We’re setting a high bar for a reason. If the Anzû can be brought down, then anything can.”

“Okay, sure,” the griffon conceded with no hint that he’d actually be persuaded by her argument, “but how exactly are we going to bring it down? The thing’s the size of a city block! So unless you’ve got a hundred or so cruise missiles shoved up your ass…?” He let the rhetorical question hang for a few seconds to let it sink in for the others just how ineffectual he believed this operation could be before giving voice to the issue at hoof. “How are we planning to take it out exactly?”

The donkey didn’t have an immediate answer for the griffon’s question, it seemed. At least, she didn’t give one. There was a brief flicker of her gaze in the direction of the batpony sitting apart from the rest of us, and the two shared a look that I couldn’t read all that well. Baton Rouge’s lips twitched into a bittersweet smile before he was forced to look away and take a sip from his drink. Jenny cleared her throat, looked back at the group, and finally responded. “Harriet’s going to crack the ship’s systems,” she informed us with a nod in the direction of the hippogriff nettrotter. “Once we have control, we can crash it right into Aeriesaka Tower. Take out two symbols of our oppression at once.”

The mare didn’t look caught off guard by the revelation, but neither did she seem particularly enthusiastic at the prospect. Her reaction didn’t do a lot to fill me with confidence, honestly. As skilled as I knew Harriet to be, I found myself wondering if she was really up to the task of hacking what sounded like was effectively a flying palace for the griffon king. Surely that had to be one of the most physically and technologically secure places on the whole planet, right? Were the six, or maybe seven if Rouge came, really all it was going to take to bring it down? To say that sounded ‘optimistic’ was an understatement.

“Look, I get that this whole thing sounds like it’s out of our league,” Jenny conceded in what felt like a fleeting moment of rationality, given the topic at hoof, “but I promise you we can do it,” she assured us. “I’ve got the details worked out. I’ve got schematics, floorplans, security protocols―everything is in place for this op.” My ear twitched at the slight crack in the donkey’s voice that I’d almost taken to be a note of desperation. I saw Gerry’s brow quirk slightly as well, but none of the others reacted to it. “I just need bodies―I need you―to help make it happen.

“Please.”

That got a much more pronounced reaction from everycreature, myself included. Had Jenny really just said the word ‘please’ while asking us to help her out? And without any hint whatsoever of sarcasm? At least, none that I heard. Nor anycreature else, given how they were all staring at her, wide-eyed. She was really set on this, wasn’t she?

If this really was just some clever machination on the donkey’s part, then it proved to be an effective one. That one word seemed to be enough to push everycreature who’d been on the fence up until now on the feasibility of this op over the edge onto her side. Gerry let out a sigh and nodded. “...We’ll do it, Jen.” A chorus of murmured assents from the others followed his statement.

Jenny let out a relieved sigh. “Alright, good. Good.” She cleared her throat. “But, yeah, the first step is getting the airwagon from the Trotson Redheart Clinic. That’ll be pretty simple. We have the disguised van and some uniforms. We’ll be able to get to the roof easy enough.”

“Okay, sure, but what about actually flying the airwagon?” Dandy asked. “None of us are pilots.”

“That’s why Rouge is here,” Jenny said, gesturing towards the batpony, who nodded. “He can fly it, and he’ll be flying us in and out of the Anzû.”

I noted more than a couple looks of relief―which I shared―at the voiced implication that this wasn’t going to be some sort of suicide mission, and that there was an intent to get us off the griffon warship before it blew up, or crashed, or whatever it was that Harriet was going to do to it.

“We’ll review the details later,” the donkey went on. “In the meantime, we still have a concert going on tonight. Let’s start getting things set up for it. I want this to be a smooth show.”

“We’re really still going on with the show, even with an op like this happening later?” Dandy asked, sounding equal parts impressed and incredulous. “Shouldn’t we put it off for a night?”

“No!” Jenny replied without hesitation, and even a little forcefully. Enough that the purple unicorn recoiled slightly. She took a breath and reined in her ire. “We have an obligation to our audience. We promised them a show, and we’re going to give them a show. It’ll be fine. We have plenty of time. The Anzû isn’t going to be near Light City airspace until close to three AM, and the less time there is between when we snag the HH airwagon and when we get to the ship, the better. It means there won’t be a lot of time for HH to realize they have a wagon missing and report it to anycreature.

“We’re doing the show,” she reiterated once more. “It’ll be fine. There’s time.”

“Alright, we’re doing the show,” Gerry agreed. “If there’s nothing else…?” He held the donkey’s gaze until he received a shake of her head. “Okay.” He stood up and motioned for the others to follow him. “Let’s start getting set up. Sound checks in thirty.”

I watched the others start filing out of the loft, leaving Jenny and Baton Rouge behind. I lingered though. I’d had a few questions smoldering in the back of my mind for a while now, and while I’d been willing to put off asking them, the revelation of the magnitude of this latest mission had finally lit enough of a fire under me to confront the donkey about what I felt she was hiding from me.

It was time to see if her ‘no more secrets’ policy that she’d set for the rest of the crew applied to herself as well, I decided. The moment the last of the band was out of earshot, I looked pointedly at the donkey. “What happened to the zebra we ‘rescued’ the other night?” I asked her bluntly, making it clear that I did doubt the purpose of our mission. Or at least its outcome.

Off to the side, I noticed Baton Rouge hide his expression behind his drink as he took a slow sip, pretending that he hadn’t heard the question, or was at all interested in Jenny’s response to it. For her part, the donkey regarded me with a cool expression. I wondered for a moment if she was actually going to answer it. Or if she was, whether it was going to be a lie. In an effort to undermine the latter, I added: “He used to work for the King. I found his pin.

“You used him as a source of intel on this, didn’t you?” More silence from the pair. I felt a cold lump growing in the pit of my stomach as I grew to suspect the answer to my question. I’d been nursing the thought in the back of my head for a while now, but it was looking like my ‘idle speculation’ was actually going to prove to be true. “...Did you kill him?”

“He was dead the moment he ran off to GlimTech.” There wasn’t even a hint of regret or remorse in her response. “He knew what the penalty was. At least this way some good might come out of it.”

My brow furrowed. “Ran off to―? But I thought―” I cut myself off with a muttered curse as I realized how naïve I’d been to think that the Aeriesaka minotaur had been upfront with us the whole time. The biggest take-away from the last few weeks was that the corporations were all manipulative, lying, extortion rackets masquerading as legitimate businesses. No wonder he’d looked so terrified when I’d told him who we were working for. He hadn’t been foalnapped by GlimTech; they were sheltering him.

And we’d abducted him from the safehouse.

There hadn’t been a disclosed ‘drop-off’ location in the mission because the zebra wasn’t meant to be returned to Aeriesaka custody. He’d been slated for ‘disposal’ so that none of the corporation’s―or the king’s―dirty laundry could be brought to light.

“He didn’t suffer,” Jenny said. Her assurance was immediately undercut by a roll of her eyes and an added, “Needlessly, anyway. The extraction process isn’t easy, but Harriet was as gentle as she could be.” I found that to be of shockingly little consolation for my own conscience. I’d been party to what amounted to an assassination plot for an old zebra who―to the best of my knowledge―hadn’t done anything wrong. Sure, there was always the possibility that, as a member of the griffon king’s personal staff, he’d been a party to something moderately horrendous or something, but I couldn’t know for sure.

Besides, if what Barkly had told me yesterday was to be believed, I knew that Jenny’s hooves were at least as dirty as his were. Likely a whole lot dirtier.

“...You stole the money from Elysium, too. Right?” Looking back―and having researched what a ‘CFO’ was―it had to be more than a coincidence that the company’s funds had flatlined the morning after we’d broken in. Of course, I felt that I at least knew the donkey well enough to know that she hadn’t done it for personal enrichment. She wasn’t that much of a hypocrite. The others would have noticed by now if that was the case. So the question became: ‘why?’. What did she need that much money for?

Paying off Baton Rouge for the job he’d run for her? No way. Elysium was a corporation worth billions of gibbies. There’s no job that even the most preem fixer in Light City could set up that would carry a price tag like that. So what was the money for then? Or…was it less about her having the money, and more about Elysium not having it? Bankrupting a corp did sound like a worthwhile goal on the surface…

But she didn’t seem the least bit surprised that the city had sorted the funding issue out to save the megasilo situation―

I blinked, realization dawning on me. The megasilo situation. The rioting. Breaking into city hall while it was the next best thing to a madhouse of protests and police officers. We’d never have been able to pull off sneaking in while posing as members of the LCPD if there hadn’t been so many uniformed officers out there that nocreature could reasonably keep track of them all, and were too busy keeping back a mob of upset citizens to do proper identification checks.

“You wanted the riots. Did you plan all of this from the start?” Another piece of information floated to the surface of my thoughts which had been easy to dismiss in the moment, but felt more meaningful now. “You knew that the king was coming before we even hit Elysium. You’ve had us laying the groundwork for this for weeks. This was your goal the whole time: killing King Grover. You didn’t care about Grinder and Elysium extorting my megasilo at all,” I sneered, glaring at the donkey. “You just needed a distraction to break into city hall.

“How many creatures got hurt in those protests you used as a smokescreen?”

Jenny rounded on me now, charging ahead a lot faster than I’d have believed she could. I barely had any time to react before the donkey had shouldered me in the chest. The air was forced from my lungs as the mare―who was a lot sturdier than she looked, it turned out―pinned me to the wall, glaring at me with baleful blue eyes. “How many creatures did Grinder kill while doing Elysium’s bidding?” She retorted. “Or the other dozen boosterherds they enlisted?

“The LCPD breaks a few bones of some justifiably upset creatures shouting their anger at the city, and you want to lay that at my hooves?! Fuck. You,” she spat. Only then did she pull back and let me down off the wall. I spent a few seconds coughing and catching my breath. I looked up, glaring at the donkey, and noticed that the batpony stallion had finally gotten up from his seat, though it had not appeared to be in an effort to lend me any aid. In fact, it was Jenny that he was looking at with concern. However, the donkey brushed him aside as she continued to glower at me.

“Yeah, you’re damn right I’ve been planning this for a while. It’s an op targeting the king of the fucking griffons; you can’t just slap a mission like this together the night before! I’m sorry if this wasn’t all neat and tidy and clean enough for you; but we’re fighting a fucking war!

“And don’t you think this is anything less than a ‘war’,” Jenny snapped, cutting off any response I might have made, even if I wasn’t still massaging my aching chest. For a creature who reportedly had extremely limited arcanetics, she’d felt exceptionally solid when she rammed me just now. And this was coming from a mare who knew what being hit by heavily kitted out creatures―like Grinder―felt like firsthoof. “It’s a war that the corps have been waging on the rest of us for a long time, and it’s a war with one Tartarus of a lopsided body count.

“It’s time the other side finally started to bleed.”

That last line was delivered with a cold finality that formed a lump in my throat, and I wasn’t even the target of her ire. At the same time, there was a part of me that I could hear agreeing with her. My mother had died being beaten to death by Grinder’s donks. Hash Stack had died in a shootout with them. Grinder and his boosterherd were only even in the picture at all because a large corporation enlisted them to strong-hoof their tenants out of more money. I couldn’t even begin to guess at how many decent creatures were dead because of Elysium’s scheme. And I’d recently learned that absolutely none of the corporation’s leadership was going to face any sort of repercussion. They’d all get off free and clear, and probably go on to concoct some new scheme that would probably get even more creatures killed, or at least leave them suffering greatly.

So, yeah, if they were going to get innocent creatures killed to sate their greed, then why shouldn’t somecreature work to even the score?

It was such an enticing thought. On the surface, it even sounded right and proper. Eye-for-an-eye. Karma. Balancing the scales. There were all sorts of terms for it. However, there was one that didn’t measure up:

Harmony.

What Jenny wanted―what she was advocating―wasn’t Harmony. It wasn’t right. Not that I felt Light City was any sort of place where the ideals of Harmony and Friendship had even a chance of flourishing on their own merits. Not with the way that things were. The world that existed in that journal…it wasn’t anything like this one. There wasn’t that entrenched class of elite corporate executives molding the social system to further enrich themselves while everycreature else was lucky to get by. They weren’t dependent on arcanetic devices melded into their very bodies just to function in the world around them, that also served as a tether which slowly drained them of their lives and their livelihoods. Magic was an asset, rather than a curse.

That world―that Equestria―it would choke and die in Light City before it could even draw breath. Too many powerful creatures had a vested interest in making sure that the society in that Journal didn’t take root. Because, in such a world, there wasn’t a place for creatures like them. Their ‘values’ were anathema to Harmony. They wouldn’t let it happen. Not on its own.

If they were removed though…if the source of the oppression was removed, so that Harmony had a chance…

There were those dangerous thoughts again that I knew, in my gut, went contrary to everything I’d read in that journal. Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t see any other way. There was the possibility that I simply wasn’t smart enough to. It wasn’t like I was a genius. On the other hoof, I liked the idea that there really just wasn’t any other way a lot more.

…So I let myself believe the latter.

“Alright, Jenny,” I said, finally managing to straighten back up after the blow I’d been dealt. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

The donkey stared at me, a small smile tugging at her muzzle. “I hoped you would.” Then her expression hardened once more and she took another step towards me. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I flinched away, but she didn’t make any physical contact this time. “But you also need to understand that this is the exception, not the rule. We want them scared of us, yes, so that they stay in line; but not so scared that they feel their only recourse is to crack down harder.

“It’s a tricky balance. And it means that force like this can’t always be the solution,” Jenny explained. “Which is one of the reasons we’re going so big this first time: hopefully this one hit will make enough of an impact that, whenever a corpo boardroom is discussing their next money-making scheme, they’ll think to themselves: ‘but will this piss off creatures to the point that they Anzû us?’, and they’ll back off if they think the answer is: ‘yes’.

“We’re drawing a line. As long as they stay on their side of it, then we shouldn’t smack them around too much. Remember that.”

I nodded. “Right, right. I’ll remember,” I assured her, though I couldn’t quite keep all of the confusion out of my voice. I couldn’t recall Jenny ever being this emphatic with me before. At least my words seemed to relax the donkey a decent bit. She backed off again, at least.

“Good. That’s good.” She turned and headed for the fridge, but stopped just short of opening the door. Her muzzle wrinkled in annoyance and she muttered a quiet curse under her breath. “Guess I’m doing this sober,” I heard the donkey grumble before she finally turned away from the fridge. She swung wide around the loft and grabbed up her guitar before heading for the stairs.

She paused as she got near me again. “You’re a good filly. Stay that way.” Then she descended. Baton Rouge followed somberly after her.

I watched them leave, puzzling over Jenny’s last comment, and trying my best to recall any other instance where she’d ever complimented me. Or anycreature else, now that I thought about it. If I asked Daisy about it, she’d probably suggest that the donkey was still riding the after-effects of Baton Rouge riding her. Especially given how late she’d returned this morning. If that was really what it was, then hopefully the batpony would whisk Jenny away more often…

“I’ll bend it backwards until it breaks!

“Crystals ringing inside my brain!

“Agent of Discord, call me a scam;

“I’m gonna take out the corporate mare!”

It was uncomfortably surreal to once more be standing in the wings of the stage listening to Hussar performing for a crowd of their cheering fans. The last time this had happened…the night hadn’t exactly gone very well for me. Perhaps it was a little silly to think that this was a pattern that would repeat itself. I hadn’t just recently ripped off a boosterherd leader, and I wasn’t aware of any particular creature who was out for my blood. Sure we were about to embark on possibly the most dangerous mission that any of us had in our lives, in order to break into one of the most powerful warships on the planet in an effort to assassinate the king of the griffons, but that didn’t mean that things were bound to go poorly for us…

…Right?

We had the ‘Power of Friendship’ on our side, or whatever Gerry had called it. He’d assured me that, as long as we were working together in the quest to bring Harmony to Light City, there was a powerful magical force that would make sure we succeeded. Given that we’d thus far managed to penetrate Aeriesaka Tower and city hall without incident, I was starting to believe him. I’d feel a little better if I could see a more obvious form of that alleged magic manifesting itself so that I didn’t feel like we’d just happened to be lucky these last few times, but there was also something to be said for the power of positive thinking.

After all, Jenny had been helping us to lay the foundation for this operation for weeks. Apparently. Behind our backs.

“Start the fire! Start the fire!

“Come join the dance of destruction!

“Valor, sweet as a kiss!”

Maybe I was feeling jitter than usual because the lyrics of the band’s final song of their performance was more than just a little on the nose…

Given how much else it had turned out that Jenny had been orchestrating behind the scenes, and how long she’d known about this operation, I was finding myself doubting very much that this was a coincidence. Had the donkey written this song, intending for it to be played the night that the king died?

“Set it off and it will never stop!

“Come join the dance of destruction!

“Valor, sweet as a kiss!”

Suddenly this piece felt far more like a ‘call to action’ than any of the other songs that the band had ever written. Which I supposed made a certain amount of sense, if Jenny really had planned out this performance to coincide with the mission. She was going to create the spark, and when she did, the ponies of Light City who heard this song would immediately connect the dots, and some of them might even rise up and join in on this pseudo-revolution that she was trying to launch.

“Set it off and it will never stop!

“And it will never stop!”

I felt my lips pull into a thin smile. I supposed that we’d have to wait and see on that front.

Jenny screamed her lungs out into the microphone, pouring more passion into her words than I recalled hearing during the last concert. The energy of the crowd was intoxicating, even for me. I could practically feel them resonating with the donkey’s words. A few of the pegasi and griffons in the crowd weren’t even on the ground anymore, they’d taken to the air on their arcanetics and were gyrating above the rest of the crowd.

“Tear out the fabric, rippin’ the norm!

“Destructive Architect with somewhere to go!

“I’ll rip right through your sheepish herd!

“Feed insurrection to this broken world!”

I was grimacing slightly now. Sure, to all of the creatures in the crowd tonight, this probably all sounded like metaphor and hyperbole, but what I knew about what was going to happen tonight allowed me to see the song in a clearer light. Others would make the connection too by morning. It would be plain for all to see, in fact. Which made this performance not merely a call to action…

…but the next best thing to a confession.

We’d have to be crazy to think that killing King Grover wasn’t going to have consequences. Whoever succeeded him―and there would be a successor―could hardly let the assassination of a ruler of the Griffon Kingdom go unpunished. If for no other reason than to discourage future ‘revolutionaries’ like ourselves.

As long as we got in out relatively undetected, it would be unlikely that the griffons would know we’d done the deed. Frankly, if we were detected while aboard the Anzû, it was unlikely we’d survive long enough to make our escape anyway. So if we got away at all, we’d almost certainly have gotten away clean, and could mostly not have to worry about Max-Tack or proper soldiers coming down on us soon after.

“I’m a lawless outcast always on the run!

“I’ll challenge everything, I’ve just begun to…

“Start the riot! Start the riot!”

Of course, that was a lot less likely to be the case if the king died just hours after a well-known band performed a song where the lead singer was all but explicitly vowing to bring down those in power…

I let out a heavy sigh and listened as Hussar’s final song of the night began to come to a close. Even as the final chords started to fade away and become completely lost in the din of the crowd, I could hear a multitude of voices calling for more. They didn’t want the concert to end. And, as I looked on at the donkey panting at the microphone, I could see a longing in her eyes that hinted that Jenny herself didn’t want the performance to be at an end either. Sitting back on her haunches, she held the guitar in her hooves tight to her chest, almost charessing it, and I could see her hesitantly draggin her arcanetic hoof along its frets like she wanted to launch into another song.

Jenny glanced back at the rest of her band. From what I could see, despite the sweat running down their own faces and the heaving of their chests, they looked like they were perfectly willing to play another song too. All they were waiting on was for their leader to pick the tune and play a chord…and they’d follow her. Gladly.

For a few moments, it looked like the donkey might very well have gone on. I could see that there was a big part of her that wanted to. Then her eyes darted in my direction. Though Jenny wasn’t looking at me directly. She was glancing at Baton Rouge, who was standing nearby watching the performance with me. I didn’t see the batpony do or say anything, but all the same Jenny’s smile waned slightly; became sadder. She turned back to the crowd and grabbed the mic stand with her eponymous limb.

“I want…” Jenny’s words caught in her throat and she was forced to swallow before she could continue. The crowd misinterpreted the pause as her desiring them to soften their cheers while she addressed them, even though the speaker system was more than capable enough to make the donkey heard over their roaring enthusiasm. “I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight. It…it means a lot to me―to all of us.

“And I want to tell you all…” Again a hesitation. Again she forced down the lump in her throat. “Goodbye.”

The mood of the crowd shifted dramatically now. The earlier moderate dip in volume now became a dramatic lull as sheers and whistles were replaced by confused whispering and scattered exclamations of surprise. It was clear that none of the gathered fans understood what Jenny was talking about, or what her ostensibly cryptic comment was meant to convey. At worst, they probably assumed she was suggesting that Hussar was going to be breaking up or something like that.

My mind was racing with far more dire interpretations.

If the crowd was hoping that they were going to get any sort of further explanation, they were going to be disappointed it seemed. As soon as the last word left her lips, Jenny turned away from the mic stand and trotted for the stage’s exit. The rest of the band shared concerned looks among themselves for a moment before abandoning their instruments to follow her. Meanwhile, the members of the band’s security detail ensured that none from the crowd tried to follow after them, even as the volume grew as more and more creatures called out for some sort of explanation of what Jenny had meant.

As Jenny passed by, the batpony stallion stepped away from my side and fell into step beside her. I held back, sensing that whatever they might be able to talk about wasn’t meant for my ears. Instead, I waited for Gerry and the others and started walking with them.

I cast a glance at the griffon tiercel. “What was that about?”

“I’m...not entirely sure,” he admitted, his lips tightening into a concerned frown. “If she’s leaving the band, she didn’t talk about it with us.” Gerry looked briefly to the others for confirmation that none of them had any deeper insights into the donkey’s intent than he did, and received nothing but shaking heads in response.

My brow furrowed as well. My thoughts wandered back around to my conversation with the jenny from yesterday, where she’d mentioned that somecreature would have to take over running things because she ‘wasn’t going to be around forever’. At the time, I’d figured that she had been speaking in much broader terms.

…Could she have been referring to something much more imminent?

Was Jenny sick?

“Come on!” I was jerked out of my thoughts by the annoyed shout from the donkey in question and looked up to see her and Baton Rouge looking back at the rest of us. “Let’s get the van loaded and head out; we’ve got an op that’s on a deadline.

“So let’s move it!”

“Redheart has a pharmaceutical arm of their business,” Gerry was explaining to me as we climbed into the back of the van. We then turned around and helped Dandy and Harriet load on the dollies and boxes that they were pushing along. All of the boxes were adorned with quite real-looking markings which identified them as being various medical supplies. What was really inside of them were our weapons and other gear that we’d be using aboard the Anzû.

“So we’re just going to roll up to the loading dock, tell them we have a shipment, and they should let us just walk right into the building. From there we just take the elevator to the roof and snag the airwagon.”

“Won’t they know something’s up when they realize they’re not expecting an order?” I asked as the last of the gear was finally loaded.

Dandy and Harriet climbed in and took their seats, then the hippogriff supplied an answer to my question. “I already slipped in delivery info to the hospital’s system,” she informed me. “It wasn’t hard. There’s not a lot of security when it comes to telling the hospital that it’s getting things. It’s just on their side though, so if they compare records with what the warehouse says they’ve sent over during their next audit, they’ll see that it was all bogus,” the nettrotter said with a dismissive shrug of her wings. “Figure that won’t affect our op much.”

“Not unless they’re doing an audit at one in the morning,” Dandy chimed in, stifling a yawn a moment later.

The van shifted slightly as a fifth creature started climbing into the back of the van with us. “Muevan,” Barkly mumbled as she gestured to Gerry and I. Without thinking, we scooted further down the benches towards the front of the van in order to ensure the diamond dog had enough room for her much larger frame. I was briefly confused as to why the band’s bassist was getting in the back with us, and not into the front where she usually did. Then I recalled that Baton Rouge was going to be joining us in the operation. Apparently he was going to be doing so up front with Jenny.

Once more there was a noticeable rocking of the van as Jenny hauled herself into the passenger seat up front. I was busy trying to help Gerry sort out where to put his wing so that I wasn’t inadvertently pinching it against his side with our much more cramped seating arrangements, so I only barely registered the sound of the van’s protesting shocks. A moment later our batpony pilot was in the driver’s seat. He leaned over and whispered something to the donkey next to him, but I didn’t catch it. Whatever it was though, Jenny waved him off and told him to start driving.

The van lurched once more as we sped off from the band’s little headquarters nestled in the dilapidated industrial quarter of Haywood and took us towards the heart of Light City. Other than the hum of the engine, there was silence as we drove. At least, for a time.

Then Jenny finally spoke up. “Harriet, run them through the layout.”

The hippogriff mare nodded. A second later, I received an alert regarding an incoming clairvoyance request. I accepted it, and was immediately presented with a technical schematic for what I assumed was the griffon king’s airship. Almost immediately, my attention was directed towards a portion near the bottom rear of the massive dreadnought, which was apparently the focus for this operation.

“The Anzû has a total of five hangars,” Harriet began. “Two lateral hangars on either side of the ship which service the air superiority wings, one ventral for its bombers, one aft for cargo loading, and finally the one that concerns us: the dorsal VIP hangar.” One area of the schematic flashed amber, drawing my gaze to the mostly open area. “Officially,” the nettrotter continued, “it’s called: the ‘Staff Hangar’. The Anzû was built to serve as a flag ship for the Royal Air Force, so it has a flag bridge and a whole lot of additional suites and cabins meant to accommodate admirals and their staff.

“When the king claimed it as his personal yacht, he scrapped most of that and had that section of the ship remodeled to serve as his personal suite, along with some rooms for guests and a small ‘throne room’ to receive foreign dignitaries and such. Because it all serves government functions more than military ones, it more or less exists apart from the rest of the ship. There are only a couple ways to get to this area from the rest of the ship. Which works out great for us.”

Other areas of the illusionary schematic hovering in front of my eyes became highlighted now. Two doors and an elevator. One of the doors was off to the side in the hangar that we would be using to get onto the airship. The other was significantly closer to the throne room. Given how Harriet had been describing things, I presumed these to mostly be intended as points of entry for service or maintenance staff.

The elevator was more centrally located though. It took me a moment orienting myself to the layout of the ship to realize that not everything I’d been looking at up to this point had actually all been on the same level. Examining the illusion more closely, I realized that the section of the dreadnought we were concerned with was actually three levels. The first was little more than the hangar and its associated ancillary rooms. The second level, resting just above it, looked like it contained the suites and cabins and other living areas. Above that was a massive room which had to be the ‘throne room’ that Harriet had mentioned.

She’d described it as being ‘small’. Looking at it now, I wondered if I might be using a different definition of that word than the Hippogriff was. That room was at least as big as the concert hall that the band used, and was located at the absolute top of the airship, capped by a circular glass dome.

“If we can lock down and hold those two doors, we’ll have a clear run at the king. Given the time we’ll be arriving, he’ll more than likely be in his private quarters.” Once more the image shifted and a section on the middle level of the three that concerned us flickered, along with a dashed line which plotted the route to the indicated room from the elevator. “We can land, get to the room, break in, and get out in minutes,” she asserted.

“The ship’s air-traffic controllers probably won’t even have time to grill Baton Rouge too bad about why he’s there in the first place.”

“What about his personal security detail?” Gerry asked.

Harriet turned and gave the griffon tiercel a flat look. “...the airship is his ‘security detail’,” she deadpanned. “Three dozen fighters and heavy bombers, a hundred weapon mounts of various types and calibers, and a crew of over five thousand.”

“His Majesty travels alone,” Jenny said from the front of the van, followed by an absently added, “mostly.

“There’s probably a platoon of knights from his House Guard on the ship, sure, but they won’t be near his quarters. They’ll be bunking with the rest of the regular crew, and will need to use the elevator to reach us.”

The hippogriff mare nodded in agreement. “I’ll be plugging into the ship’s network and keeping it locked down as best I can. They’ll have to use the doors to get to us, and those will be easy to barricade and cover. Baton Rouge can use the main gun on the Health Harras’ airwagon to cover the hangar’s door. Barkly shouldn’t have any issues covering the staff entrance near the kitchen.” The two indicated doors flashed briefly as Harriet listed them.

“Harriet will be plugged in, Barkly on the service door, and Batty covering the hangar,” Jenny summarized from the front seat. “That leaves the rest of us to find and kill the king.” She turned her head and locked her eyes on Dandy, Gerry, and I in turn. “I trust I can count on you three to be able to help me kill one old griffon?” We all nodded.

“Good. Once he’s dead, Baton’ll fly y―us out.”

My ear flicked at what had briefly sounded like a verbal flub. However, nocreature else seemed to have registered it. So maybe I’d just imagined it myself.

“We’re here,” the batpony driver announced.

I leaned forward and glanced out through the windshield. Sure enough, we’d arrived at the hospital. It almost looked very much like the rear of the building as well. Baton Rouge and Jenny opened their doors and hopped out. Barkly handled the door at the back of the van. The rest of us filed out in short order, dragging out the dollies and their burdens with us as we went. I looked over and saw that Jenny was already in something of a shouting match with a confused-looking earth pony holding a clipboard.

“―on’t care what your manifest says!” The donkey snapped at the unfortunate stallion. “Our manifest says we’re supposed to bring those crates here. Tonight.” She jabbed a hoof in the direction of the rest of us and we all shuffled into view with our burdens, patiently waiting to be allowed into the hospital’s rear entrance.

The earth pony barely had time to scrutinize our group before Jenny was once more waving her own clipboard in his face and reacquiring his attention. “I have thirteen cases of dilopifyzine here that I’m signed for in the chain-of-custody, and so it’s my flank―and my bank balance―that’s on the line if they don’t make it to the freezer on time! I’ve got―” Jenny pantomimed looking at the fetlock of her arcanetic limb, as though she were wearing a watch. There was no watch, of course, but she moved the limb so fast that it was impossible for the earth pony to confirm if she was or not. “―seven more minutes before that shit breaks down and becomes lethally toxic!

“So you can either let us through that door so I can get it to the pharmacist on duty before I’m liable for half a million gibbies worth of ‘damaged goods’, or,” Jenny thrust the clipboard out to the stallion and glared at him, “you can sign for it and spend as long as you want calling whoever you want to about why this shipment isn’t on your sheet.

“Because then it’ll be you who’s in the doghouse with the finance office.”

That implication seemed to be all it took to get the earth pony to back off. “Okay, fine, shit; go on ahead,” he glanced towards the door. The jewel in his forehead blinked and a moment later I heard the sound of the lock disengaging. Baton Rouge wasted no time and opened the door, holding it for the rest of us as we headed inside. “I’ll make some calls and get this all sorted out…” He wandered off to find somepony to corroborate Jenny’s story, likely confident in the belief that he’d be able to track us down later if and when he figured out where the mix-up had been.

We didn’t have to go far to find a sign which alerted us to the direction of the hospital’s pharmacy. However, we patently bypassed it and headed for the elevator with roof access instead. Being that this elevator was intended to allow for patients on gurneys who were in possession of the quite pricey Health Harras insurance packages to be transported swiftly from their airwagons to treatment, the elevator was quite spacious. There was more than enough room for us to shed our Redheart uniforms and don the proper barding and weapons which were in the crates of ‘drugs’ that we’d brought along with us.

I noticed that most of it seemed to be the LCPD uniforms and armor which we’d used to sneak into city hall. I gave the uniforms a briefly appreciative look as I considered how any technicians on the roof might react to seeing a squad of LCPD officers spill out of the elevator and ‘commandeer’ the airwagon. For that matter, I found myself wondering how the Light City government was going to respond when the Griffon Kingdom inevitably demanded to know why a bunch of ‘their’ officers boarded the king’s airship and murdered him.

Maybe, by the time all of this blew over, there’d be some long-standing politicians removed from office.

I was just finishing up getting on my police uniform when I heard a high-pitched whining sound coming from nearby, followed by a rapid staccato of metallic clicking. I glanced over to see Barkly hoisting an absolutely massive gun which featured a set of three rotating barrels that were presently slowly winding down to a stop. The diamond dog noticed my dinner-plate-sized eyes as I beheld a ‘gun’ that was at least as large as I am, and a broad grin spread across her face.

“Me gusta,” the canine all but purred. She reached down into another nearby crate and withdrew a massive circular drum and began to attach it to the weapon, drawing a belt of ammunition from within it.

All around me, the others were assembling their weapons as well. Most of them I recognized from the raid on Grinder’s warehouse. Dandy was putting together his sniper rifle. Harriet was calibrating her assault rifle so that its targeting scope was properly synced up with her optical arcanetics. Gerry was stuffing extra magazines for his submachine gun into the pouches on his vest. Jenny was slapping a fresh clip into the underside of that odd pistol of hers.

Beside me, the batpony was lighting a cigarette. He glanced over, noting my raised brow, and chuckled. “Que dire? I’m a lover; not a fighter.” Nearby, Jenny snorted.

I elected to concede the point. Besides, the plan didn’t seem to call for him leaving the airwagon during the mission anyway. The rest of us were here to do the ‘heavy lifting’―though perhaps Barkly more than others―and there wasn’t even supposed to be a lot of that either. Get in, get the king, get out. Five minutes; in and out. They probably won’t even have time to sound an alarm.

One could hope anyway.

“Harriet,” Jenny prompted, gesturing at the elevator’s control panel. The hippogriff nodded and stepped closer to it. She stared intently at the motionless panel, her silver eyes and implanted forehead jewel flickering with faint orange light as her arcanetics went to work cracking through the hospital’s security. The corner of the nettrotter’s mouth pulled back slightly into a faint sneer of annoyance, but a few seconds later the panel issued out a pleasant chime. Then the elevator began to ascend.

She let out a ragged breath and bent her head, massaging her temple. “Fuck me. This new fifth-gen shit always gives me a migraine,” she seethed under her breath.

“You gonna be okay?” Jenny prompted, raising a brow in the hippogriff’s direction.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted with a nod of her head. “Wards are just a little more aggressive with the fifth-gen stuff is all. Sort of try to hack you right back, in a way. I’m good though.”

“You better be. I need you to lock down a warship in about fifteen minutes.”

A few moments later the elevator chimed again and the doors opened. I spared a moment to mentally note that the roof of the hospital, even at just after one in the morning, was more brightly lit up than the interior of the elevator had been. And this wasn’t the result of the floodlights illuminating the landing pads either. No, it was the result of the projected advertisement illusions saturating the Light City skyline. It genuinely felt to me like daytime in Haywood was darker than midnight up here in Trotson.

At least it made our target easy to see though.

Our group hastily spilled out of the elevator, leaving behind our discarded uniforms and the empty crates, and cantered off towards the waiting Health Harras airwagon. Gerry and Harriet focused on disconnecting the various bits of diagnostic equipment which the technicians had left in place overnight, while the rest of us headed for the gaping doors which led to the transport’s main cabin. Baton Rouge immediately turned and slipped into the cockpit, his talisman glowing as he initiated the vehicle’s start-up sequence.

A few seconds after we stepped inside, the interior flickered to life with a high-pitched whine of electro-mechanical life. However, this was shortly followed by a curse from the front of the airwagon. Jenny took a step towards her batpony paramour. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuel’s low,” Baton Rouge replied with a grimace. “There’s probably enough to get us to the Anzû, but we’re not making it back to the island with what’s left.”

The donkey frowned now too. Her arcanetic hoof tapped furtively on a nearby bulkhead as hastily evaluated our options. I saw her eyes dart to the outside of the airwagon, where there was almost certainly a way to refuel the transport present and operational. However, the longer that we lingered on the pad, the greater the risk that our ruse would be realized when the pharmacy got tired of waiting for the shipment of drugs it had been promised and asked the hospital’s security staff to start looking for the ‘lost’ delivery crew.

“The Anzû will have fuel,” she finally stated firmly. “Gerry will gas you up while Pel and I go after the king.” The pair exchanged a brief look, but the batpony stallion eventually nodded in agreement with the plan’s revision.

Fortunately, the rest of the airwagon’s preparations appeared to go without a hitch. Harriet and Gerry finished up relieving the transport of its umbilicals and joined us inside. Neither seemed particularly thrilled about the prospect of having to top off the airwagon’s tanks while aboard the griffon warship, but it was agreed that doing so right now instead was at least as dangerous.

“Besides,” the band’s guitarist said while giving his wings a casual flex, “worst case scenario: those of us with levitation arcanetics can just carry the rest of you or something.”

Harriet glanced idly between the tiercel and the nearby towering figure of Barkly. “...Dibs on the new filly,” the nettrotter hastily quipped.

Confusion briefly creased Gerry’s features before he followed the hippogriff mare’s gaze and realized what she’d meant. He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fair enough. Like I said: worst case.”

“Flight checks complete,” Baton Rouge announced from the cockpit. “All systems nominal. Transponder is…good to go. All automated air traffic systems should give us a provisional green light for approach. Everycreature ready?” He glanced over his shoulder towards the back of the transport.

Jenny gestured for us all to take our seats and get strapped in for the flight. “Take us up,” she instructed the batpony. He nodded and faced forward once more. A moment later, the airwagon’s engines roared to life and the Health Harras transport began to lift off of the hospital’s roof.

I was just securing the last of my seat’s harnesses when I noticed the donkey hadn’t sat down yet. Instead, she was posted by the still open door on the side of the airwagon, staring out at the city that was passing us by more rapidly with each passing second. It didn’t look like she was watching out for anything specific. She just seemed to be taking in the sight. As the last of the largest of Light City’s crystalline skyscrapers whisked past, she finally turned her head slightly, her gaze locked in the vague direction of the airwagon’s heading. It wouldn’t have been possible for her to see it yet, of course, but I suspected that she was ‘looking’ towards our destination.

The donkey’s lips pulled back into a hungry sneer.

“It all ends tonight…” I managed to just make out her words over the din of the wind whipping past the open door. The finality of her tone sent a shiver down my spine. I swallowed back a nervous lump that had been slowly growing in the back of my throat as the weight of what we were about to do was finally given time to sink in. There was no turning back now. We were on our way to plunge ourselves right into the belly of the beast, and no matter how ‘solid’ our plan may have felt, there was no guarantee that any of us would be coming back from this alive.

All that I could do was take solace in the fact that we were doing what was necessary to save the citizens of Light City. We were doing something good. Something noble.

…Weren’t we?

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 14: Relics

Flying out to meet the Anzû proved to be a far more surreal experience than I had initially anticipated, and not for any reason that I could have guessed either.

I’d grown up in Light City, and had never left the island it was built on. I knew, intellectually, that there was a larger world beyond its shores, sure; I’d even seen maps of the world and seen how tiny the little mass of land I lived on was when compared to the Equestrian Continent and such. I was aware that there was―literally―a larger world out there.

All of that being said, I don’t think that there was anything which could have prepared me to actually experience the sheer scale of it all. While the door for the main cabin had long since been secured shut for our flight over the sea on our way to intercept the king’s warship, I was able to tap into the Health Harras airwagon’s external cameras with my arcanetics and take in the view from outside. And what I was seeing finally put into perspective what all of those maps had not been able to:

The world. Was. Big.

We’d been flying along for fifteen minutes at several hundred kilometers an hour. Light City was just a glowing haze against the pitch black night to our rear. And all around us was just an expense of water that seemed to stretch on into the infinite horizon. The whole world that I’d known was just a speck of light barely visible in the night. Marginal against the endlessly-spanning ocean. And within that tiny speck of light, I’d lived an almost insignificant existence.

Yet, here I was now, actually thinking that a being as small and inconsequential as me could actually make a difference in the world. It was lunacy.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

I jerked slightly as I heard Gerry’s question echo inside my head over the clairaudient link that most of the team shared for the operation. The Health Harras airwagon didn’t possess the greatest sound-dampening, and the roar of the engines carrying us to our destination was pretty hard to talk or hear over conventionally. So we’d arranged for arcanetics links across the group―save for Jenny, naturally. However, she was standing pretty close to Baton Rouge the whole time, so the batpony was able to convey to her any messages that the rest of us might have with relative ease.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I replied. Though the words themselves were easily drowned out by the din of the thrusters, the griffon sitting across from me heard them over the link as clearly as if the two of us had been sitting alone in a quiet room. Which was probably why he was able to pick up on my tone that I wasn’t being entirely honest with him.

“It’s normal to be nervous. I’m shit scared too.” I heard his faint chuckle as he watched my eyes grow wide with disbelief. “Oh yeah. We’re about to storm the flagship of the Griffon Kingdom with a rock band,” he pointed out. “If I saw an ad for a vid with that plot being advertised, I’d roll my eyes and immediately dub it ‘trash’ for being so absurd.”

That was a fair point, I conceded. Though that also wasn’t doing anything to reinforce my flagging confidence, if that had been the tiercel’s intention. “So…we’re fucked.”

Gerry shook his head. “Far from it. Because we’ve got the magic of Harmony working on our side.”

I frowned, regarding the griffon with a dubious expression. I recalled him mentioning the existence of ‘real’ magic and how that a group of creatures working together towards a noble goal―like we were―would invoke the alleged powerful forces of the Elements of Harmony or whatever, like those mentioned in the journal I was reading through. However, I had since begun to wonder if he hadn’t just been talking out of his ass. Because I had yet to see or experience anything like that.

The griffon chuckled once more as I told him as much over the link. “What? Did you expect to see rainbow beams and bright ethereal lights all over the place?” He flashed me a broad smile to ensure I knew that his chiding was meant in jest. “Magic is capable of being a lot more subtle than that.

“Didn’t you think that it was a little convenient that sneaking into Aeriesaka Tower and city hall just happened to go so smoothly?” He asked. “Two of the most heavily-guarded and secure buildings in the whole of Light City, and we were able to walk in, get what we needed, and walk out without so much as a scuffle? That shouldn’t have been how that worked.

“There were a thousand things that could have gone wrong for us―should have gone wrong. But they didn’t. Because we had something bigger looking out for us, making sure that we wouldn’t fail, because it wanted us to succeed―it needed us to succeed.”

I wasn’t sure that I was entirely convinced by the griffon’s reasoning. I mean, it seemed like a stretch to me to suggest that, because we’d been lucky, that was proof of some outside force intervening on our behalf. It could just as easily have been nothing but coincidence as far as I could tell. Heck, wasn’t it a sign of solid planning that things didn’t tend to go awry? And it had turned out that Jenny had been putting in a lot of work behind the scenes setting up these plans of hers. These operations weren’t all nearly as ‘last minute’ as they had sometimes felt, it had been revealed to me.

On the other hoof, the sheer conviction with which Gerry spoke was starting to get me to waver on the idea. Could there be magic at play here that was subtly nudging things in our favor that could otherwise have completely undermined what we were trying to accomplish? I had gotten to parts in the journal where Twilight Sparkle was talking about a ‘Tree of Harmony’ and how it was tied to the Elements that she and her friends had been wielding. There were certainly implications there that whatever force was behind the magic of Harmony wasn’t averse to playing the ‘long game’ or taking steps to mold past events in order to ensure future successes.

So, maybe the griffon was right? Maybe there was something powerful out there that had a vested interest in our success on this mission? Maybe, if Harmony was looking out for us, then the operation wasn’t quite as hopeless as I thought. Which was certainly reassuring. Harmony had certainly helped Twilight defeat a lot of Equestria’s foes in the past, and those adversaries had sounded a lot more powerful than the griffon king.

On the other hoof…I was hard-pressed to think of an instance where the Elements had helped Twilight to outright kill any of her enemies. Even those who clearly posed very real threats to the nation―if not the whole world. Nor had killing anycreature been the goal of any of those prior missions where Gerry was insisting that the magic of Harmony had played a role in guaranteeing our success. However, taking a life explicitly was the objective this time. And, as necessary as it probably was to kill the king in order to ultimately help improve the situation in Light City, nothing I’d come across in that journal suggested that doing something like that was anything that the Elements would approve of.

Would Harmony be looking out for us this time? Would it use its magic to help us kill? I wasn’t so sure.

Honestly, the more I thought about it, the less sure I was that doing this ultimately would help Light City’s denizens. It was the system that was the problem just as much as it was the creatures running it. If we removed the individuals, wouldn’t they just be replaced with like-minded ones? Would those replacements change their approach to the rest of the creatures in the city out of fear of being killed themselves? Was that how that worked?

It wasn’t how that had seemed to work in the city’s boosterherds. Creatures in charge got killed by disillusioned members all the time, who would then assume power and start running things ‘the right way’. For a while, at least. Then they’d get killed too, and the cycle would repeat. It was the nature of boosterherds and the mentality that the system cultivated in their members. Light City’s oligarchic-styled leadership wasn’t―strictly speaking―a boosterherd, but it certainly felt like it operated on similar principles: the more psychopathic had an easier time rising to the top, and they exploited those who were weaker than themselves for their own personal benefit.

So, if killing the creature leading a boosterherd didn’t end the problems associated with boosterherds, then why did we think killing the king would end the problems associated with the system that put him there?

…So much for Gerry’s pep-talk, I guess.

“Target in sight,” Baton Rouge announced to all of us over the link. “Prep for insertion: two minutes.”

I swallowed back my nerves and took a deep, rattling breath, as I tried very hard not to think of all of the ways that this mission could go wrong for us. The doubts that had been swirling in my head were brushed aside with repeated mental assertions that Gerry had been right and that Harmony would be watching over us and wouldn’t let us fail. We were doing a good thing for the creatures of Light City. Jenny had put together a solid plan and her plans always worked out.

We would get through this, and everything would be okay.

I’d even managed to almost have myself convinced of those things by the time I heard our batpony pilot’s next clairaudient transmission. Which I wasn’t sure had been entirely intentional. “Putain de merde…that’s one big bitch.”

I quickly linked back into the airwagon’s external cameras in order to see what it was that had prompted such an exclamation from our pilot. It didn’t take me long to see what elicited the comment, and even less time to conclude that he’d very much understated the sentiment.

Once again I found myself in the position of having failed to properly prepare myself for how dramatically I’d managed to underestimate the size of something in my head. Much like the world itself, I’d known on an intellectual level that the Anzû was a big ship. It was a carrier as well as the flagship of the Griffon Kingdom’s Royal Air Force. I had known that it was going to be big.

I hadn’t realized that ‘big’ in this context meant that it was going to be a floating megasilo!

That was really the best way to describe it: like some crazed engineer who’d obviously been in the early stages of arcanopsychosis had taken a megasilo, turned it on its side, and given it the ability to fly. And then he’d sprinkled it liberally with guns like a street stall vendor dusting a churro with sugar. If they suspected even for a moment that we any sort of unauthorize craft―

My thoughts were interrupted by an audible alarm coming from the cockpit.

Oh, we were so fucked!

Jenny’s head whipped in the batpony pilot’s direction, her expression mirroring that of every other creature in the craft and the unspoken question plain on her face: had we been made? Meanwhile, Baton Rouge was clearly trying to discern the exact same thing as he queried the airwagon over the nature of the alert he was getting. His features creased in confusion. “Qu'est-ce que―? We’re receiving an emergency response request!” He declared, both over the shared link and aloud for Jenny’s benefit.

The donkey beside him relaxed visibly, frowning at her partner. “Well they’re going to have to ping another airwagon; we’re busy.”

But the batpony was already shaking his head. “Non, we’re receiving the request. As in: us, specifically,” he explained, much to the surprise of us all, “And it’s not over the Health Harras network. This is a proximity transponder notification.” He gestured out through the airwagon’s forward display at the gargantuan carrier floating ahead of us. “It is coming from the Anzû.”

Those of us in the main cabin exchanged looks. Our mission had either just gotten a lot easier, or a lot more complicated. Yet, somehow, I silently suspected the latter. In my head, I was only able to come up with a very short list of creatures who were on that vessel that were likely to have contracts with Health Harras. Granted, I was probably overreacting. After all, it wasn’t like only top executives back in Light City had such insurance plans. They just had the best with priority response times.

That was a big ship, and likely had a big crew to match. With how important it was, there were probably a lot of very high-ranking officers and such on it too who would undoubtedly have contracts with Health Harras. There were probably hundreds of candidates aboard who could be the source of that transponder. It didn’t have to be who we were all thinking.

…Right?

“Can you identify the patient?” Jenny asked, her mind obviously drawing the same conclusions that the rest of ours were. Though there did seem to be a more anxious edge to it. I’d have assumed she’d be more relieved. After all, if the king died before we got there, that sort of made things a whole lot easier for the rest of us, right?

The batpony was shaking his head. “Patient information is encrypted. Client confidentiality. I don’t have the credentials to access it.”

Jenny turned her head back to glance at the hippogriff nettrotter. She didn’t even have to give voice to the question for Harriet to know what she was going to ask. “I can try and crack the encryption, but it’ll take time. With only a remote link to Health Harras’ systems, it’ll be a lot harder to crack through their security wards.”

“...Would it be easier while you’re hooked into the Anzû?” The donkey asked after a moment’s pause.

Harriet considered the question for a moment and then nodded. “Once I’m on their network, I’d be able to use some of their access codes to expedite things, yeah.”

“Do it.”

To Baton Rouge, she said, “If the ship queries us, respond like we’re a legit response to the alert.”

The batpony hesitated for a moment, earning a raised brow from the donkey beside him. “Um…I am not getting much chatter from the carrier. None, actually. Only automated acknowledgements from the local air traffic’s guidance systems. I’ve uploaded our clearance and approach request. We do have a clearance to land.”

It looked like the new development was going to make it easier for us to land after all, I noted. The revelation allowed me to relax just a little, though it didn’t look like it did much to sooth Jenny. With a slight grimace creasing her lips, she nodded. The batpony manipulated the airwagon’s controls and banked up around the side of the massive warship. Through the external cameras, I was able to make out the small hangar on the top of the craft, facing aft. My attention became fixed on the pair of large turrets bristling with weapons that lay to either side of it. While both of them look, for the moment, to be entirely disinterested in our little aiurwagon, I felt myself holding my breath in anticipation of their barrels suddenly deciding to swing in our direction and blast us out of the sky.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen. This time. I was unconvinced that they would be quite as dismissive of our presence after we’d killed the king. But that was a problem for later. We still had far more immediate pressing concerns.

Baton Rouge set our ‘borrowed’ Health Harras transport down beside a pair of luxurious skywagon that were more ornately decorated than any that I’d ever seen flown by an executive in Light City. Emblazoned on the side of the one closest to us was the crest of the griffon royal family: a crowned griffon head in profile with a pair of crossed spears beneath it. The whole thing was wreathed in golden laurels.

The moment the airwagon touched down in the hangar, its side door opened up. None of us wasted any time spilling out into the hangar beyond. It was only a matter of time before an organic being took note of the erroneously-cleared airwagon in a restricted area and sounded the alarm. Which meant that we had to move quickly to accomplish our objective and leave.

“Gerry, sort out the fuel situation,” Jenny barked as she finally stepped out of the airwagon. “The rest of you follow me.”

I swallowed back the nervous lump in my throat which had made its appearance once more, checked my pistol for probably the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes, and nodded. We fell into step behind the donkey as she led us to the hangar’s door. Harriet set to work bypassing the lock while the rest of us kept a lookout.

My gaze fell to the second luxury airwagon that I’d noted during our approach. My initial reaction was to come up with some sort of quip regarding the absurd excess of the wealthy related to the king’s apparent need for a ‘spare’ limousine. Only to stop up short when I noticed that the crest on the side of the second airwagon was slightly different. The crown over the profiled head was a much simpler and more conservative design, and the whole thing lacked the golden laurels.

Noticing where my attention was directed, Dandy was kind enough to provide clarification. “That’s the sigil for the crown prince,” the purple unicorn supplied in a hushed whisper. Then his own features creased in thought. “Odd. I’d heard he and his father were still estranged? I definitely didn’t hear about him coming along on this visit…”

Any further musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Jenny ordering us through. We cantered out of the hangar and down the short corridor which led to the elevator. Harriet made short work of the door’s security here as well and got us into the spacious lift. One short trip up to the second level later, and we were once more greeted to a view of a single corridor, though this one was far more opulent than the one leading to the airwagons. It sort of felt like we’d been transported off of a warship, and were now inside of a mansion. Or maybe even a small palace, I supposed, given the nature of the owner. Plush purple carpet covered the floor and massive portraits decorated the walls. The lighting was provided by a line of small, but extravagant, chandeliers.

As we ventured down the corridor, I noticed that the portraits didn’t depict just griffons as I might have anticipated. There was a whole menagerie of creatures being shown on them. Griffons, ponies, hippogriffs, and even some races that I didn’t recognize. Nor did I have much time to puzzle over them before Jenny was snapping off more orders at us.

“Barkly, get to the service door. Harriet, find an access port and jack in.” The donkey then turned to Dandy and I. “You two, with me.”

I nodded shakily as the unicorn stallion and I followed closely behind Jenny in the direction of the king’s private suite. While we’d been assured that there wouldn’t be any security patrols in the area, I noticed that Dandy was still looking intently down any intersection that we crossed, the pistol hovering beside him always pointing in the direction that he was looking. I mimicked the tactic, feeling a little bit of relief every time I didn’t see anything down connecting hallways.

Nearly a minute later, Jenny brought us to a large set of double doors which were ornamented with the king’s crest. “This is it,” she informed us.

She then spun around on her forehooves and coiled up to deliver a fierce buck planted right along the seam between the doors, easily smashing the latch keeping them closed and slamming them open into the dark room beyond. Dandy charged in ahead through the now open door, and I was forced to scramble after him, a little unprepared for the abrupt entrance. In my defense, I was still fairly new to this whole: ‘assassination’ thing.

The darkened room beyond was quiet, save for the sound of the splintered doors swaying on newly-bent hinges and the pulsing of blood in my ears. I swallowed hard to try and curb my heavy breathing as my eyes darted around the room, seeking out any sign of movement. Our thunderous entrance should surely have alerted any inhabitant to our presence. Soon my attention rested on the large, four-poster bed laying on the far end of the chamber. Curiously, the wooden framing was carved with reliefs of various seashells, which I found to be an odd choice of aesthetic for a king of the griffons, a winged race who’s traditional home was the high peaks of mountains.

Dandy and I crept slowly forward, our eyes―and our weapons―focused intently on the bed…and the covered lump beneath the thick, quilted sheets, which denoted its slumbering inhabitant. Jenny shouldered her way between us, plodding on ahead with determined swiftness. Fair enough, I supposed. If kicking in the door like she had hadn’t been enough of a ruckus to awaken the king, then I highly doubted that stomping across the carpeted floor was going to do the trick either. Her arcanetic hoof slipped to the holstered weapon on her flank, drawing the signature weapon out.

I very nearly seized up when I heard Harriet’s voice over the link. “I’m in the ship’s network,” the hippogriff announced, “and shit’s wild in here! The whole carrier’s on lockdown, and it’s not because of us. The lock was initiated just a couple minutes before we landed.”

Dandy and I paused and looked at each other. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved that the unicorn was just as surprised and confused as I was, or worried that it was clear none of us knew what was going on any more. It was obvious from the nettrotter’s anxious tone that she wasn’t sure what to make of her findings either. “I also cracked the encryption on that HH alert…”

Jenny was at the side of the bed now, and still there’d not been even the slightest stirrings from the sleeper. Only now was the donkey finally looking like she recognized how odd it was to not have had any sort of reaction. She briefly glanced back at the pair of us. Dandy’s arcanetic telekinesis reinforced itself around his pistol as he trained it on the lump beneath the sheets. He nodded at the donkey. She reached forward with the barrel of her pistol and tucked it just beneath the comforter.

She whipped back the covers just as Harriet announced her discovery over the link. “...It’s the king. He’s dead.”

Judging by the slew of curses slipping from the donkey’s lips, it didn’t look like Jenny required us to relay Harriet’s findings. Again I found this to be an odd reaction from the singer, as I was under the impression that the king being dead had been the whole point of this endeavor. What did it really matter if he had died in his sleep rather than because of a bullet from Jenny’s gun? Dead was dead. Our mission was over; we could leave.

I breathed a sigh of relief and turned away from the bed, glancing around the rest of the room while Jenny made up her mind about what our next step would be. My eyes fell onto another portrait; this one far larger and more elaborately framed than any of the others that I’d seen in the corridors. I had half expected it to depict the griffon king, as it would have made sense to me for them to have been that vain. Instead, I found that it was an oil painting showing a pink hippogriff mare with a tied up graying blue and cyan mane. Just beneath it was a small vanity. Though, instead of being filled with perfumes and makeup, its surface was arrayed with a collection of framed photographs all clustered around a simple silver urn.

I slowly made my way closer to the shrine and idly inspected the images. They all featured the same hippogriff mare that was in the larger portrait above, presumably showcasing various moments from her life. In each of the images, the pink mare was either smiling broadly or laughing. In a couple, she was doing so beside an equally happy blue griffon tiercel who bore an uncanny resemblance to a much younger King Grover V.

I’ll admit that I was hitting something of a mental block as I studied the collection of photographs. The creatures in them just looked so…normal. These could have been family photos that any couple would have in their home. It was hard to look at them and think of the pair as being the monarch of the Griffon Kingdom and―I presumed from the one larger photo of the pair attired in polished golden armor and a flowing white dress―his queen; creatures behind the suffering of millions of Light City’s citizens. It felt…out of place.

About as out of place as the rather crude looking seashell necklace draped around the silver urn. It looked very much like something that one could have found being hawked by any street peddler in Haywood. Certainly not anything that would have been owned by royalty.

My attention was drawn from the shrine by Dandy’s mirthless cackle. “Right inconsiderate of his Royal Highness to up an’ die on us a’fore we could kill ‘im, eh? Just like the nobility to fuck over the li’le folk at every turn!” Jenny seemed less amused by the situation that the unicorn clearly was.

Then Harriet popped on over our shared clairaudient link once more. “This wasn’t natural causes,” she informed us. “The readings from the king’s arcanetics indicated he died of asphyxiation following a ‘traumatic tracheal event’.”

Once more the stallion and I exchanged confused looks. I echoed the hippogriff’s wording as I tried to discern its meaning. “‘Traumatic tracheal event’?”

Jenny glanced back over the body of the blue griffon tiercel lying on the bed, leaning in to take a closer look at the corpse. “His throat was crushed,” she announced. “Somecreature murdered him in his sleep.”

“Popular notion, that,” Dandy said with a hint of snark as he gestured between us.

“Somecreature with claws,” the donkey added further before pulling away from the dead king. He glanced towards the unicorn. “Ask Harriet how long ago the crown prince landed.”

While Dandy queried the nettrotter, I looked at Jenny. “You don’t think they left the kingdom together?”

She shook her head. “Junior and daddy had a falling out years ago. Probably inevitable.” She gestured towards the shrine that I’d been studying a moment ago. “Mommy died in foaling. That drove the initial wedge between father and son. King threw himself into running the kingdom, while shipping the little prince off to whatever schools and academies he could find. They were barely together for anything other than a couple official functions until the prince was an adult.

“Then he all but dropped out of the public eye for a decade. Emerged back onto the scene a few years ago. King decided he wanted to set things right and bring the prince back into the fold. Offered him effective control of Aeriesaka as a peace offering. That was when the company started to get really bad,” Jenny sneered.

“No big public arguments, but word around the palace was always that the two were bickering about something or other.” The donkey glanced back towards the body in the bed. “Frankly, I’m not surprised by this. But if the prince really is on board, then it’s just as important that we take him out too.”

Dandy’s eyes ceased flickering orange as he finished up his clairaudient conversation with Harriet. “Harriet says there’s an active transmission originating in the throne room,” he gestured above us, sounding decidedly unhappy.

“Calling for help?”

“She doesn’t think so. It’s being transmitted directly to GlimTech, on one of their executive bands.”

Jenny grimaced as she reupholstered her weapon. “Junior moves quick. The king’s body isn’t even cold and he’s already trying to negotiate with Aeriesaka’s biggest competitor.” She turned from the bed and started trotting for the door. “Let’s get a move on. Update the crew.” Once again Dandy and I fell into stride with the donkey as the unicorn informed the others of the recent developments and the slight alteration to our plan on Jenny’s behalf.

It was a short trot back the way we’d come to the elevator, which we boarded and commanded to ascend to the third floor, and the king’s ‘away’ throne room. Dandy and I both braced ourselves, our pistols hovering at the ready, grasped in the telekinetic fields of our arcanetics. Jenny’s remained holstered, as she had no magic with which to hold her weapon while she walked. However, I did note that her prosthetic leg seemed to be flexing in anticipation.

The doors finally opened up to reveal the throne room. Like so much else in this part of the warship, it was extremely capricious with its use of space. It was a singular circular room ringed with ornately carved pillars and capped by a stained glass dome. At the far end was a raised dais and an elegantly styled gold and crimson couch. Sitting upon it was the buttercream form of the creature who I presumed was the former prince, now turned king, of the Griffon Kingdom: a hippogriff stallion with burning red eyes and the same two-toned powder blue mane that I’d seen in the portrait of the queen.

However, it was not the new king of the Griffon Kingdom which drew my―or Dandy’s, for that matter―focus. Rather, it was the presence of one of the other two creatures in the room whom neither of us had been led to expect. Granted, one of them wasn’t technically actually ‘here’ , in the strictest sense of the word, so their omission from the list of possible encounters could be forgiven, I felt. Which didn’t make the sight of them any less shocking though.

Although I’d obviously never met her before in my life, considering my station, I did instantly recognize who the mare was. Her pictures were fairly common around Light City. After all, GlimTech was one of the most prominent megacorporations on the island, and thus its founder―and nominal owner―was not unknown to the city’s citizens. Not that she featured in interviews or made public appearances anymore. It had been decades since she’d been seen in the public eye in any capacity as far as I knew.

That didn’t mean that I didn’t immediately recognize the projected illusion of the alicorn Starlight Glimmer standing larger than life in the center of the throne room. Nor was the image merely part of some sort of ‘art installation’ or something like that, as the projection was in the middle of actively conversing with the griffon seated on the far end of the room.

“―don’t think you understand the nature of the work your father and I are doing here, Grendel,” the pink alicorn was saying as the doors to the elevator opened up and allowed us to hear the exchange going on. “He wasn’t coming here to ‘tighten our grip’, as you put it,” Starlight said, sounding a little exasperated, “We’re more hooves off than that―”

“And how wonderfully this ‘hooves off’ approach has been working for you,” the younger stallion sneered, clearly making no attempt at all to conceal the low opinion he held of the alicorn, flicking his clawed hands into the air and pantomiming quotation marks around the words he was throwing back at her. “How’s the search for that thaumanuclear device you managed to lose last week going, by the way, hmm?”

I noticed the corner of Jenny’s lip curl into a small smile even as the projection of the pink mare’s features grew more sober. “My team still hasn’t managed to recover it,” she acknowledged.

“And that’s not a reason the city shouldn’t be placed under martial law to you?” The hippogriff king said with a heaping of scorn. “‘Laissez-faire’ is an economic policy, not a security posture!

“We should be locking down the city. Conducting thorough sweeps of every room in every building, street by street. I can have two divisions of my Guard in Light City tomorrow if I put the call in right now!” He jabbed a talon towards the illusionary mare, “And don’t think that I need your permission to do it! You don’t technically ‘run’ Light City any more than my father did.

“Officially, I only need the mayor’s approval.” The stallion then leaned back in her seat, steepling his claws as he flashed a wicked smile at the alicorn. “Unofficially…there’s nothing they could really do to stop me, is there?”

Even from where I was standing behind her, I could see that Starlight Glimmer was less than thrilled by that proposition. However, she still kept her tone calm and controlled as she responded to the not-so-thinly-veiled threat from the new king. “That isn’t necessary,” she insisted coolly. “And it would completely undo decades of work. Surely your father explained to you how important it was that Light City be―”

“Fuck my father!” The stallion snapped, abruptly silencing the pink alicorn, who recoiled in shock. “You’re dealing with me! Whatever bargains the two of you made ended when he passed. I’m the king now, and I intend to do things better than that old fool ever did!”

It was at this point in the conversation that Jenny seemed to think it was a good time to announce her presence to a room that had been largely oblivious to the three of us up until this point, embroiled in a heated discussion like they were. The donkey stepped forward, glaring imperiously through the large pink illusionary alicorn at the young hippogriff sitting on the throne at the far end. “‘Passed’, huh? That’s a pretty delicate way of describing strangling the life from him while he slept.”

Both the hippogriff stallion and the projection of the alicorn mare jerked in surprise at the donkey’s announcement, directing their gazes to us. Each wore a mask of confusion as they beheld the trio of intruders. Their obvious shock, and the evidence that her plan to infiltrate the massive airship had succeeded spectacularly, only seemed to further stoke Jenny’s sense of superiority and her feeling that her ultimate triumph was soon at hoof.

I, on the other hoof, wasn’t quite so sure. Now that the conversation between the king and the alicorn had been brought to a halt, and all eyes were on Jenny, I found myself finally sparing a moment to take in the third creature who had been in the throne room when we entered. Had it not been for the distraction that was a four meter tall pink Starlight Glimmer in the center of the room, I was sure that this creature would have been impossible to miss, even while they stood next to the young king.

At least, I presumed that they had, at one point in the past, been a living, breathing, ‘creature’. What race exactly, I could only guess at. They were neither pony, nor one of the winged species, I could tell that plainly from the horns mounted to either side of their low-hanging head and lack of any perceptible neck. But that was all that I could tell through the bulk of metal and gemstones that was standing at the base of the dais leading to the throne. At this distance, it was hard to make out anything which might have, at one time, been organic. The glowing pale-green eyes which were staring back at me were almost entirely lifeless, it felt like. I found myself doubting that they’d ever been a living creature at all, and that it was just some new variety of robot.

I felt myself taking a half-step back as the vacant eyes continued to bore into me. I had a bad feeling about this…

Starlight finally found her voice as the confusion at the appearance of so many unexpected creatures was supplanted by the revelation made to her by the donkey. She turned her attention back to the hippogriff. “Grendel, no…Tell me you didn’t…” My attention was ripped from the mass of arcanetics at the sound of so much genuine anguish audible in the alicorn’s voice. Heartbreak was evident on her projected face as well.

The new king’s eyes widened in shock and anger as his attempted ruse was revealed. With a quick motion of his talons, he dissipated the illusionary mare. Then his attention focused on us. “You dare?!” The stallion seethed. “Who are you? How did you even get in here?!”

Jenny slowly started to saunter forward, sneering at the hippogriff. “Well, I was going to be the implement of your father’s demise,” she said. “But you stole my kill, and I’m a little personally put out by that. You see, I put a lot of effort into all of this. It’s a whole ‘all dressed up and nowhere to go’ sort of deal for me right now.

“I came here to kill a king.” Jenny’s demeanor shifted suddenly as she leveled a glare towards the stallion on the throne. “And I don’t intend to leave until I do.”

The young hippogriff visibly recoiled from the threat, his face growing pale. “Initiate security alert response!” he screamed, followed a moment later by, “Yona, protect your king!”

No sooner were the words out of the hippogriff’s mouth before the lights in the throne room dimmed and took on a blood red hue, and on the heels of those lights came the banshee’s wail of a klaxon that pierced the air. I flinched in response to the cacophonous alarms. In doing so, I missed catching the sight of the heavily augmented creature beside the thing charging forward with the unnaturally high speed granted to it by its entirely arcanetic legs.

It seemed to go for Jenny first, being the clearer threat to the king. However, the donkey was able to deftly slip out of the way, having anticipated that she would be the clear target for any sort of attack. The charging behemoth adjusted quickly to the dodge, but not in the way most would have expected. Instead of trying to stop or turn and make another pass at the donkey, they instead made a slight diversion towards a new target, so as to maintain the momentum that they had built up.

That new target turned out to be me.

Still recovering from the assault on my senses that had been the shipwide alert, and far from a veteran of close-quarters combat, I was not at all prepared to deal with the sudden threat presented to me in the form of the hulking metal form barreling towards me. I felt my legs lock up as fear took hold of me, planting me firmly in place with its grip. I saw my death coming, and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. All I could do…was despair.

“Pel!”

Something hit me, hard. Not as hard as I would have been if this ‘Yona’ had made contact, I was sure, but with enough force that I was shoved out of their path at the last moment. I went sprawling across the floor of the throne room with little in the way of grace or coordination. However, I was at least freed from the hold that my terror had had on me. I rolled onto my side just in time to see Dandy, who’d been the one to knock me out of the way, take the hit which had been meant for me.

Seeing the unicorn get hit was like watching a marionette get its strings cut. The charging steel airwagon with legs masquerading as an augmented creature slammed into Dandy’s side with so much force that the left half of the stallion’s body was instantly caved in. The LCPD barding that he was wearing did absolutely nothing to dampen the blow, from what I could see. Dandy was likely dead in that moment. At least, I sincerely hoped that he was. If for no other reason than so that he didn’t have to suffer through what happened to him next.

“YONA…” I heard the beast growl in a voice that might have been feminine in nature at one point in their life. However, it was hard to tell through the layers of mechanical distortion that colored their words. They flicked their low-hanging head up into the air with a hiss of hydraulics. It was only now, watching as the limp form of the unicorn was hurled up into the air, that I realized that those horns on its head had impaled the stallion’s body. A spray of blood and gore was flung into the air along with the corpse.

The arcanetic demon followed through with the flick of its head and reared up on its hind legs. Dandy’s body peaked in its low arc and fell to the floor with a low ‘thump’. A heartbeat later, his assailant slammed their legs of steel and pistons down onto the unicorn’s chest, soundly imploding it and sending a spray of blood, organs, and gemstones out in every direction. A small splatter caught me across the face, but I was too shocked to register it in the moment, my eyes fixed on the grim scene playing out before me.

“...MASH!”

My eyes were locked onto the uniformed lump of pony that had once been Dandy. His baby blue eyes were wide with shock, but his dilated pupils were completely devoid of life. Standing over him, the metal monster slowly turned her head towards me, her own eyes devoid of ‘life’ in a very different way as they locked onto me once again.

No.

Not again.

I wasn’t going to let this all happen again. I wasn’t going to sit idly by why other creatures fought―and died―to protect me. I wasn’t some helpless filly, and I wasn’t just going to lie here and let all of my friends get massacred.

“Not…” My arcanetic implants alit, their telekinetic magic seizing hold of both my own pistol and the one which had been dropped by Dandy when he’d been struck by this monster. Both weapons flew to my side and aligned themselves at the abomination. “...Again!”

I opened fire…

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 15: Legendary

I opened fire, pouring every round in those pistols into the yak’s face…

…And it didn’t matter in the slightest.

‘Yona’ didn’t even react as round after round plinked off of her thick metal hide with about the same level of lethality as spitballs. I came closer to inflicting more harm on myself when a ricochet sparked off the floor next to me than I did to her. I didn’t stop pulling those triggers though. I emptied the magazines of both weapons, screaming at the top of my lungs that I wasn’t going to let her kill any more of my friends.

The slides of both pistols locked back on their spent magazines, their triggers no longer budging. Beyond their barrels, the heavily augmented bodyguard for the newly-crowned king stared back at me with detached indifference. An aggrieved cry erupted from my throat as I discarded the pistols and launched myself at the yak. I lashed out with my reinforced arcanetic forelimbs, striking at the heavily-augmented bovid’s face. Grinder had forced these limbs on me in order to hurt and extort others. I’d never used them for that purpose though, and had been quite conscious of not using them to their full potential lest I validate what my old herd leader had done to myself and others.

Now though, I wasn’t inclined to hold back and unbound the governors on those limbs, slamming my hoof into the side of the yak’s armored muzzle with all of the force that my arcanetics were capable of…

…And it still didn’t matter.

Her jaw barely even budged at the blow. I refused to let myself be deterred. I whirled around, preparing to deliver another strike to the bodyguard’s throat, where she might be less-heavily armored…only to be almost absently flicked aside by a twitch of Yona’s own forelimb which sent me sprawling back to the floor.

My diaphragm spasmed at the hit, causing me to cough as I struggled back up onto my hooves. I sneered at the yak, as I felt enraged by her apparent callous indifference to my efforts, and frustrated that I couldn’t seem to do anything to harm her. Or even get a reaction from her! In Yano’s eyes, I wasn’t a threat to her. I was just an insect that needed to be squashed, and worthy of about as much effort or attention. She strode over to where I lay, the hissing and humming of her thauma-mechanical joints marking each step like a count-down to my demise.

I didn’t try to run. There wasn’t much point. Where would I even go? I couldn’t fight her. I couldn’t beat her. My eyes fixed onto hers as I mustered up a defiant glare. I wouldn’t cower, and I wouldn’t flinch away from this. ‘Bullies’ like her didn’t scare me anymore.

“Fuck you,” I spat at the looming figure. “You can kill us; but someday creatures like us are going to win.” I thought back to the throngs of angry megasilo residents screaming in the streets outside of city hall. Creatures that had been pushed to their limits, and had little left to lose. Creatures upset by what the city and its rulers had reduced them to. Creatures who had just been waiting for one more little spark to ignite their rage and push them over the edge into revolution.

Jenny had sought to kindle that spark here with the death of the king. While her target was already dead, and not at her hooves, it was still possible that our mission here would bear fruit. If the others made it out, and if they could spread the word that a small group of dedicated creatures got onboard the griffon king’s flagship at around the same time that he died…

Whatever the ‘official’ reason was that the news outlets gave for King Grover V’s death, whispers would undoubtedly circle through the city about how ‘coincidental’ it was that assassins―from among the ‘common creature’ like themselves―were able to get onto the Anzû at the same time the king just happened to die of ‘completely natural causes’. Creatures would begin to wonder about what really happened. They’d reach certain conclusions. They’d figure that, if even the king could be gotten to, then surely reaching the high-level executives ruining their lives was within their grasp as well.

Even if we all died here, maybe it had been enough to start the first domino falling.

I could live with that.

An ironic final thought, to be sure; or it would have been, had I actually been killed shortly after having it. Fortunately for me, that didn’t come to pass thanks to the intervention of Jenny Silverhoof. Just before Yona could stomp me into a golden smear that would need to be deep cleaned out of the throne room’s carpet, the donkey charged in and slammed up against the larger yak.

Much to my shock, it was a move that proved moderately productive. Which was far more than I’d have assumed, given what I knew about the donkey. Or, rather, what it appeared that I only thought I knew. Given the apparent disparity in the extent of their arcanetic augmentations, any onlooker would have―quite reasonably―been forgiven for likening Jenny’s chance at attaining a positive outcome as being on par with the chances of your average foal trying to strong-hoof an overfilled dumpster. After all, Yona was one of the most heavily-modified beings that I’d ever seen. By contrast, the only modification that Jenny had was her left forehoof. She didn’t even have a standard arcanetic talisman to give her access to rudimentary telekinesis. She should have bounced off Yona just like my bullets had.

Instead, I actually saw the larger creature stagger when Jenny’s charge connected; and even the donkey didn’t look that much worse for wear as she slammed her non-arcanetic shoulder into the beast. I found myself remembering when the donkey had pinned me earlier back at the loft, and how her chest had felt far more reinforced than it looked. I knew that the jenny was prone to misrepresenting aspects of herself to others. Had she been hiding the true extent of her implants as well?

“Eyes on the prize, chrome-dome!” Jenny snarled. In response, her opponent wheeled around and tried to gore the donkey with her alloy-plated horns, but Jenny managed to roll away in time to avoid them. She came back up onto her hooves with her own pistol clasped in the crock of her arcanetic hoof and snapped off a pair of quick shots. I fully expected the donkey’s bullets to be just as ineffective as my efforts had been, but found myself surprised when the yak actually flinched away from the impacts. Whatever rounds the donkey was using were clearly more potent than what had been loaded into my own weapon.

Jenny grinned when she saw her adversary recoil, even if it was only a brief reaction to being shot. Yona shook off the effects quite quickly and rounded on the donkey. It looked like she was coiling up for a charge of her own, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I found myself doubting that Jenny would prove to be as resilient when she was on the receiving end of a hit from the arcanetic behemoth. It looked like the donkey had her doubts as well, but also had no intentions of finding out for sure.

Just as Yona began her charge, I saw Jenny’s silvered limb snap out holding her pistol once more. However, this time she was not directing it at the charging yak. Rather, she was aiming off to the side, though she didn’t take her eyes off the threat bearing down on her. At first, I was unsure of what Jenny thought she was going to accomplish by very clearly not shooting at the yak. Yona launched into motion.

She fired off her shot when the yak was just meters away, aiming almost completely perpendicular to Yona.

Imagine my surprise when it turned out that Jenny actually managed to hit her!

Though, this was entirely due to the fact that the yak had diverted at the last moment in an effort to interpose herself in the path of the bullet…and keep it from striking the hippogriff king who was still sitting on his throne.

A smirk creased Jenny’s lips as she squared herself up on the yak once more. “Your new boss has you on a pretty short leash there, Masher,” the donkey chided. “Though, I gotta say, I’m a little surprised that you turned your back on the old one so quickly. I was under the impression that you and the king had known each other for a long time.”

The yak’s dull eyes merely stared back wordlessly. From behind her on the throne, the new king of the Griffon Kingdom spoke up though, rising to the donkey’s taunt. “Yona recognizes that my father was too weak to do what was truly necessary,” Grendel sneered. He rose up from the throne and began stepping down from the dais, though I noted that he was careful to keep the bulk of his yak bodyguard between himself and Jenny’s gun. “For half a century, Light City has sat off our shores enjoying nearly unfettered autonomy. Falling under the whims of no single nation.

“It was a deal struck between the Kingdom and Equestria long ago, the backroom dealings of Princess Twilight Sparkle and the freshly reforged Griffon Kingdom.” The soft yellow hippogriff continued to glare imperiously at the donkey. “For all the praises that have been heaped upon my father for what he did for the griffons, Light City is surely the ‘Great’ King Gallus Grover Gusty’s ‘greatest’ failure!” he spat contemptuously.

“A city of vast wealth and resources―built through the toil of my kingdom―and what do we receive for our efforts? Nothing! When Equestria still existed, perhaps it made sense to leave the city as a neutral port, but now that it has vanished from the world, it is well past time that Light City be reintegrated into the Kingdom.

“I understood this―Yona understands this,” the hippogriff gestured to the dead-eyed yak who appeared largely oblivious to her liege’s monologuing, merely continuing to keep her gaze fixed on Jenny and the donkey’s raised pistol. “And soon, even that arrogant old nag, Starlight Glimmer will understand!

“Though I certainly wouldn’t expect a simpleton like you to. Mule.”

Jenny’s expression doesn’t immediately change. Slowly, she lowers her arcanetic hoof and holsters the weapon, all the while not breaking eye contact with the king. She draws in a long breath, holds it for a short moment, and then slowly lets it out while the hippogriff sneers down at her. “Okay.”

The change in her demeanor is instantaneous. Jenny’s calm façade drops, replaced by an expression of unbridled rage as she hurls herself forward at the stallion. Yona moves to intercept her, but the donkey isn’t the least bit perturbed, slamming her arcanetic hoof into the side of the yak’s armored face with enough force behind it that the ringing of metal-on-metal actually hurts my ears. It’s inconceivable to me that nothing gave way during the impact, on either end.

My view of the fight is briefly obscured by a notification of an incoming call from Harriet, which I quickly accept. A frantic-sounding hippogriff mare’s clairaudient words sound in my ears, though I’m only paying half attention as I continue to look on at the melee unfolding in front of me. “Pel! What’s going on?! There’s a general alert going off throughout the whole ship!”

“The prince―er, new king―triggered an alarm,” I informed the nettrotter. “Jenny’s fighting his bodyguard.” My eyes darted towards the red and purple smear on the floor. I winced and suppressed the ball of bile that threatened to crawl up my throat at the grizzly sight. “Dandy’s dead.”

“...Shit,” was all that Harriet had to say on that point. Not that there was really all that much worth saying at the present moment. Mourning could wait until later. Right now, we had other pressing concerns. Some of us more than others it sounded like, as the hippogriff went on. “Well it’s gotten a lot of the ship’s crew to start taking a closer look at what’s going on,” she warned, “including the Anzû’s resident nettrotters. And they’re good.” It was then that I became aware of the strained note in Harriet’s voice, as though she were speaking to me while simultaneously doing something that was physically demanding, like struggling to lift a heavy load.

“Whatever you two are doing, do it fast! I―” the hippogriff mare’s words briefly slipped into a hiss, as though she’d just experienced some physical pain. When she recovered, her tone was significantly more ragged than it had been a moment ago. “We can’t stay here much longer if any of us want to leave.”

I swallowed back the fearful lump that her words had spawned in my throat. My eyes focused once more on the fight going on between Jenny and Yona Masher in front of me. It didn’t look like the donkey was having luck gaining any ground in their fight, while her opponent didn’t look even the slightest bit worse for wear. This was not a fight that was going to be over soon. Certainly not as quickly as it sounded like Harriet wanted. Or ‘needed’, more likely.

Though maybe there was something I could do on that front. I locked my gaze on King Grendel. My arcanetic telekinesis discarded Dandy’s spent pistol and slipped a fresh magazine into the grip of my own. With Jenny keeping his bodyguard occupied, I had an opportunity to complete our mission myself. I wasn’t sure how we’d deal with Yona quite yet, but the hippogriff was a solvable problem.

I stood up and leveled the freshly-loaded weapon at the hippogriff and pulled the trigger.

Then I blinked in shock as I saw the round spark off the armor-reinforced face of his yak bodyguard. I hadn’t even seen her move. Jenny seemed to be likewise caught off guard as she flailed around briefly to try and regain her balance when the swing she’d intended to land on her opponent’s face instead whiffed harmlessly through open air. Both the donkey and I stared blankly at the impassive yak for a stunned second. “What in the…?”

My blood ran cold as I realized that I’d once more gained the yak’s full attention. My mind filled with visions of what had happened to Dandy only minutes ago, only this time ending with a yellow pile of bloody pulp on the floor instead of purple. Yona charged at me. My hooves moved in a blur as I scrambled to avoid getting splattered.

Try as I might though, I wasn’t going to succeed, and I knew it. The yak simply moved too fast.

I heard the impact before I felt it, which struck me as odd. Then a fraction of a second later I was actually struck. However, it turned out that it was not by the heavily-augmented yak. Rather it was by Jenny, who had been sent sailing through the air when she’d interposed herself in front of Masher and took the brunt of the hit for me. The pair of us rolled along the floor of the throne room in a tangle of limbs before slamming against the wall.

A pained groan escaped my lips as I struggled to right myself under the weight of the donkey, which was considerably greater than I would have suspected for an equine of her size. Jenny likewise hissed in pain as her body was shifted off of me, though she did not make any immediate move to get back onto her hooves. I very quickly saw the reason why when I glanced over at her and saw the donkey clutching at a deep gash that had been rent along her abdomen.

Despite the clear peril that the two of us were still in at the hooves of the nearby yak, I found myself unable to look away from the wound on the jenny’s side, confounded by what I was seeing. Or, rather, what I was not seeing. Specifically the conspicuous lack of excessive amounts of blood…or internal organs. I may not have been a doctor or a student of anatomy, but I still knew that most creatures’ guts tended to be full of, well…guts.

Jenny’s was not.

What she did have was a device that bore a symbol which was just barely visible through the opening that had been torn through her synthetic hide. A depiction of three equidistant six-pointed black stars against a yellow background. It was a symbol that I recognized from a myriad of action-oriented shows and movies that I’d seen over the years, typically during the climax when the hero was tasked with disarming a bomb which threatened to destroy the whole city.

I was looking at a thaumanuclear device. A thaumanuclear device that had been physically implanted inside of the donkey where her organs should have been. Nor did it seem that I was the only one to notice this, or be given pause by the unexpected revelation.

Yona halted her advance towards us; and while her facial expression remained visibly unchanged, there was a subtle hint of trepidation in her stance. It felt like she was just as likely to sprint away from us as towards us in the next few moments.

From his own vantage point near the throne, Grendel couldn’t see what it was that had put his bodyguard off from continuing with her attack and his scowl depended. “Damn it, you chromed-out twit; what are you just standing around for? Kill them!”

Yona didn’t immediately respond, but Jenny started to laugh. It started out as little more than a pained cough, which slowly evolved into gasping heckles as the donkey slowly rolled back onto her hooves and struggled up to a standing position on trembling legs. When she finally managed to stand fully erect―though with a slight list as she kept her silver-foreleg over the gash in her barrel―the donkey smirked wryly between the king and his bodyguard.

“Killing me would be pretty redundant,” Jenny said through a pained wheeze. “I’m a dead donkey walking.” She finally lowered her chrome leg and turned her body slightly to reveal to the hippogriff stallion the telltale black and yellow symbol that was peeking through her wound. Grendel’s features twisted in visible confusion as he narrowed his hawkish eyes and sought out what it was that the donkey was trying to show him.

Then they widened with recognition and the terror set in. He absently stumbled backwards, tripping and falling over his new throne. Jenny’s mirth redoubled at the sight of the cowering monarch, setting off another round of laughter.

“And just like that, suddenly the great king of the griffons―the most powerful creature in the whole world!―is no longer the one in control,” the donkey chided. “You built a world where whoever’s carrying around the biggest stick gets to call the shots; figuring that you’d always be the one holding the biggest stick of them all. You and your friends,” Jenny tossed her head in Yona’s direction, though I got the impression that she wasn’t referring to the yak exclusively.

The donkey flashed a wicked sneer in the direction of the hippogriff, clearly reveling in seeing the king cower in her presence. “A second ago you were so fucking smug, sitting on your throne and talking about your plans for Light City and the world. So cocksure that nothing could stop you from doing what you wanted because you ‘knew’ you had the biggest stick, and everycreature else was just going to have to suck it in and go along with what you wanted.

“But…now the shoe is on the other hoof,” she chuckled. Her hoof waved in the direction of Yona. “You took out your stick and started waving it around. And, while it’s an impressive tool, I’ll admit,” Jenny briefly stuck her tongue out at the yak, who didn’t appear to respond to the barb, “now I get to show you mine and…”

Another series of chuckles bubbled up from the donkey’s throat. “As a jenny, I don’t get to say this often enough, but I think I get why jacks like talking about it:

“Mine’s bigger.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the throne room. Yona stood her ground, seemingly unfazed by Jenny’s implied threat of thaumanuclear destruction, but also not making any move to attack the donkey. The hippogriff king’s face was far more easily readable, and it was clear that he was utterly terrified. I didn’t blame him. I was pretty scared myself.

Scenes of thaumanuclear explosions from vids I’d seen played out in my head and I was forced to swallow back a nervous lump that formed in my throat. Some of those devices were capable of erasing the entirety of Light City and the island it was built on from the map, leaving absolutely nothing behind. While I didn’t believe for a moment that Jenny would have fitted herself with a bomb that was genuinely powerful enough to cause that much destruction―as her intent was ostensibly to save the city and not to vaporize it―it was pretty clear that it was intended to be a potent enough explosion to take out the Anzû.

Having seen how massive the ship was, I had a pretty good idea in my mind how large an explosion would need to be in order to definitively destroy the massive airship. For sure, nothing inside this throne room was going to exist as anything more than individual atoms if Jenny’s bomb went off here. And as I was presently in the throne room with her…

“So here’s what’s going to happen―” the donkey began, only to find herself cut off by the hippogriff king as he appeared to finally recover from his initial shock.

“No,” he stated firmly, glaring at Jenny. The donkey balked, surprised at the curt refusal to even hear out her terms. Grendel rose back onto his hooves and talons, making a show of dusting himself off. “I will not negotiate with your ilk. That is not how I will mark my rule.

“Nor do I believe that you’ll carry through with your threat,”

The king’s theory earned himself a frown from the donkey. “You really think I’d have gone through the trouble of having my guts scooped out with a melon-baller if I wasn’t one hundred percent committed to this?” she challenged. “It’s not like there’s any going back for me from this,” she snorted, waving her silvered hoof at her wound and the bomb within.

“And yet we’re still talking,” Grendel noted, not having seemed to be cowed by Jenny’s threat. “You could have detonated yourself the moment you boarded this ship. There was no need for this confrontation. What use would a whole dramatic speech have been when the only ones around to hear it were going to be vaporized a minute later?

“Oh, I have no doubt you intend to die here and take myself and the Anzû with you,” the hippogriff conceded. “However…” Now his eyes shifted over to me, “I suspect that not every member of your crew is quite as ready as you are to become kindling on your bonfire, hmm?”

My eyes darted back down to the donkey in my hooves. Jenny, on the other hoof, was apparently having trouble meeting my gaze. A lot of our past conversations and interactions were suddenly given a fresh context in my mind. The king was right: Jenny wasn’t keen on taking the rest of us with her. Not when she’d been essentially trying to groom me to take over for her, I realized. That was why she’d been exposing me to every facet of the group’s operations. Introducing me to her contacts. Telling the others that I was to know the whole truth to any question I asked.

I was supposed to be Jenny’s replacement when she was gone; and she’d known that her end was going to be coming sooner than any of us would have guessed.

Which meant that my dying here with her was indeed not part of her plan. If she detonated that bomb right now, she’d take out the entire crew. To include Baton Rouge, one of the Light City underworld’s most influential and well-connected fixers. With one blast, Jenny would absolutely cripple not just her efforts to undermine the megacorps, but countless other groups’ as well. It was actually hard to know who’d come out worse in the end: the corps, who would certainly all suffer in some way from the political disruption the loss of the royal family would cause the Griffon Kingdom, or the citizens of Light City, who would no longer have any effective groups working behind the scenes to improve their lives and protect them from the worst abuses the city’s corporate empires intended to inflict on them at any moment.

“Pel, what the fuck is taking you guys so long!?” Came the strained plea of our group’s nettrotter. “These security guys aren’t screwing around! Barkly is being pushed back, they’re storming the hangar, and I―AUGH!” The hippogriff mare let out a pained cry that seemed to echo around inside my own head as a result of the clairaudient link we shared, making me wince. “I…I’m trying to hold back their daemons, but…” Harriet’s words came out in a haggard breath. It was hard to miss the note of resignation in her tone.

“I don’t know how long―I ca…I…” It almost sounded like the mare was holding back tears now. “I can feel them…in my heaAAAUUUGHHH!”

That final anguished scream was cut mercifully shut as the hippogriff was no longer able to sustain the communications link. However, that didn’t leave me feeling any less shaken by the realization that I’d just experienced the death of a second member of our team essentially ‘first hoof’ in a vein similar to Dandy’s a minute ago. It was a feeling that wasn’t helped at all by Harriet’s revelation that the other members of our group were in similar dire straits. As tough as Barkly was, I knew there was no way she could hold off a whole ship’s worth of soldiers. She’d run out of ammunition long before they would. The same went for Gerry and Baton Rouge.

Not that it mattered, I supposed. With the Anzû on full alert like it was, and our nettrotter gone, there was no way that our little airwagon was going to be able to launch and make an escape, even if the rest of us could get to the hangar. I recalled those turrets sitting just outside the hangar’s entrance. They’d certainly be operational now, and ready to shoot us out of the sky the moment we took off.

I let out a disparaging snort of my own. That ‘we’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting. I certainly wasn’t going to be joining them back on the airwagon no matter how things worked out. With the security alert in place, the lifts were locked down and Harriet―our only means of circumventing the ship’s security protocols, was KIA. Which meant that Jenny and I were trapped here.

It seemed that Jenny and I were both dead mares walking. We all were now.

“Harriet’s gone,” I numbly informed the donkey.

Jenny shut her eyes and let out a muttered curse. When she opened them again, I could see her resignation. She’d reached the same conclusion that I had only a moment ago. None of us were making it off this ship alive anyway. Which meant that there was nothing more to be gained by drawing things out.

“I’m sorry.” I glanced at the jenny in mild surprise upon hearing the apology. I idly wondered if the donkey had found those two words as strange to say as I’d found them to hear. “I fucked up. None of you deserved this.”

A wan smile tugged at my lips. “Not a great end to the mission,” I acknowledged sardonically, “but it’s not like you twisted my hoof to get me here.” I looked back towards the hippogriff king and his bodyguard, who was still keeping her distance from us and the device in Jenny’s abdomen. “I can think of worse notes to go out on.

“Let’s ignite a revolution.”

“Heh. Say no more, bloom.” Jenny flicked her silvered fetlock. In that same moment, I heard a high-pitched whine begin to emanate from within the donkey. She smirked in the direction of the hippogriff king. “Hey, junior; how does a reunion with dear old dad sound?”

Grendel’s face paled in terror, the expression replaced a heartbeat later with rage as he began to scream at his guardian. “Masher, kill them! Quickly!” he all but shrieked.

“Killing me will accomplish fuck-all,” the donkey said, leveling her gaze at the yak. “Bomb’s armed. No going back from it. I ain’t no EOD tech; are you?” She let out a pained groan as she finally rolled up onto her hooves and squared off once more against the arcanetic monster before us. Her eyes swiftly darted up and down the uninjured behemoth. “If you run now, you’d probably escape the blast.”

At the back of the throne room, I once more saw the king’s eyes widen in fear as he heard the donkey float to his protector the idea of leaving him to die. “Y-yona,” he stammered hurriedly, “remember your promise to my parents! You told my mother you’d always keep me safe!”

The yak glanced over her shoulder to the newly-crowned king, her expression still wholly unreadable. However, a moment later she was staring back at Jenny with that same malice she had before. “Yona…will mash.”

“Well fuck you too,” the donkey sneered. Then she charged the yak.

I was too stunned to react immediately. It was sheer madness and folly to take on Yona Masher with our bare hooves. She’d tear us apart. Literally! Not that sitting back and doing nothing would work out any better for us in the end, I knew. Still, I wasn’t sure that I retained the courage to just sprint headlong into certain death like that, even knowing that my remaining lifespan was measured in minutes no matter what I did.

Swallowing down my own fear, I took a deep breath and prepared to join the fray as well. However, just before I made my move, a message flashed across the corner of my vision. The sender was unknown, which was quite irregular, given how such cantrips worked over arcanetic devices. The contents of the message itself also caught me by surprise:

ELEVATOR. MOVE!

As a result of the security alert put out through the ship by the king, the elevator was locked down. The only creature who could have overridden the lockout and granted Jenny and I access, Harriet, was dead. It was useless to even try and―

A nearby chime drew my attention. I turned just in time to see the doors to the lift inexplicably open up. I blinked in shock, my jaw going slack. I looked back to Jenny and Yona, who were currently both reared up on their hind legs and locked together in a wrestling match that even I knew was already a foregone conclusion. The donkey just didn’t possess the raw strength needed to overcome the yak’s arcanetic enhancements. Which meant that the chances of her being able to break away and get to the elevator were also slim to none, leaning heavily towards the latter.

Still, it felt wrong to leave her behind…

NOW!

I felt my teeth grinding as my desire to escape and maybe have a chance at living to see tomorrow battled with my apprehension of leaving another friend to die for me. I’d sworn that I wouldn’t let it happen again, and I didn’t want to be a hypocrite like that. The latter was winning out, and I took my first tentative step towards the melee…

…Only to be stopped when I caught Jenny’s eye on me. I saw it flicker towards the open elevator door. It was only the briefest of looks, but in that moment I knew that the donkey didn’t want me to come to her aid. She’d made this a one-way trip for herself. It wasn’t her desire for the rest of us to die with her when we had a chance at living on.

So I ran for the elevator. The second I was inside, even without needing to press any of the buttons, the doors sealed shut and the lift began to descend. Somecreature was clearly controlling it. The question was: who? Clearly a being who was inclined to have at least some of our crew make it out of here alive. That felt to me like it should have been a very short list of creatures on this ship. If whoever it was was even on the ship. But who else in the world would even know that we were here? We hadn’t known that we were going to be here until tonight!

And why were they having such an easy time circumventing the ship’s network security when even Harriet hadn’t been able to defend herself against the system’s intrusion countermeasures?

The doors opened on the hangar level and my ears were immediately assaulted by the sounds of sustained gunfire echoing off the walls. I sprinted into the hangar proper…and found what could only be described as a warzone.

Barkly and Gerry were both hunkered down behind some crates, the former apparently having abandoned her post on the second level at some point to get down here and assist in protecting their only way off the airship. Both creatures were being supported by Baton Rouge, who was using the Health Harras airwagon’s nose-mounted cannon to suppress the Griffon Kingdom soldiers spilling into the hangar. Even with the heavier ordinance provided by their borrowed ride, things clearly weren’t going very well for our side.

The reason for that was pretty simple: we weren’t fighting off mere corporate goons from Aeriesaka. These were professional soldiers, trained and equipped with the best that their nation had to offer, and it showed. That we’d lasted this long was likely due only to the high defensibility of the hangar itself and the limited points of entry into it afforded to the Anzû’s defenders.

My gaze landed on a discarded rifle from one of the fallen griffon soldiers and I snatched it up in the grip of my arcanetic telekinetic field before sprinting through the gunfire to join my comrades. I dove behind cover just as a burst of enemy gunfire sparked off the deck at my hooves. I was pretty sure I’d caught a sliver of a shattered bullet in my leg as a result, but I had far bigger concerns now than a flesh wound.

Gerry snapped off some retaliatory fire of his own before ducking back down and loading in a fresh magazine. I noted that it seemed to be his last one, given that the rest of the pouches on his barding appeared to already be empty. “Glad you could join us,” the griffon tiercel quipped, flashing me a smile which possessed very little genuine mirth behind it. “We saved you some bad guys.” He nodded his head back in the direction of the enemy.

“We need to leave. Quickly.”

“So soon? But we just got here,” the griffon quipped before popping over our cover and firing off a pair of bursts at our attackers. “I’m meeting so many interesting griffons!” He ducked down, wincing as a machine gun swept over our position, chewing away at the crate we were using for cover.

“You don’t understand; Jenny smuggled a nuke onto the ship!” I felt it wasn’t necessary to go into specifically how the donkey had managed to accomplish the task. “She’s already armed it. We don’t have much time left before it goes off!”

The tiercel gaped at me for a full three seconds in incomprehension as bullets continued to fly overhead. Then, “Where’s she get a fucking nuke? Did she just pull one out of her ass?!”

As unintentionally accurate as Gerry’s guess may have been, I declined to elaborate further. The specifics behind how Jenny had gotten the weapon onboard wasn’t the most pressing concern that we were facing. “We need to leave!” I reiterated before firing off another brief burst at the attacking griffon soldiers.

“Right.” I was grateful that Gerry didn’t press me on where the bomb had come from. Though that didn’t mean that the griffon didn’t pose other equally uncomfortable questions that I was loath to provide specific answers to. “We’ll leave as soon as she gets here. How far behind you is she?”

“She’s not coming.”

Another disbelieving stare from the griffon. “What do you mean she’s not―?!” His question was cut off by the metallic clattering of a grenade landing close by us on the deck. Our eyes locked onto the deadly cylinder. While my reaction was to freeze in terror, Gerry was spurred to action, lashing out with a hind paw and punting the offending explosive away. He then fell on top of me, shielding my body from the―mercifully―distant explosion and the shrapnel it spewed.

I heard the tiercel hiss in pain as he slowly rose and took the majority of his weight off of me. Beside us, I saw Barkly examining her right arm, the synthetic flesh of her arcanetic limb looking worse for wear, as she’d apparently used it to shield her face from the grenade. The NCPD barding that covered her torso was speckled with slivers of metal, but it didn’t look like anything had managed to pierce the armored vest too deeply. The diamond dog snarled and returned fire while I scrambled onto my hooves and looked over the griffon. He was certainly worse for rare, and his haunches bled from a myriad of tiny wounds, but it didn’t look like he’d been wounded too severely.

One thing was clear though: we couldn’t stay here much longer. If we remained, we wouldn’t live long enough to be killed by Jenny’s bomb at this rate. “She’s staying behind to protect the bomb and hold off the king’s bodyguard: Yona Masher,” I explained. “She wants us to leave without her.” While the donkey had not explicitly stated as much to me, I didn’t feel like I was grossly misstating her desires.

Gerry winced, and it didn't seem to me like he was doing it as the result of physical pain. “Yeah, that sounds like the sort of stupid shit she’d do,” he admitted. The griffon checked over his weapon before looking towards Barkly. “Alright, time to clear us a path out of here.” The diamond dog nodded. Gerry got my attention tilting his head in the direction of the attacking soldiers. “Covering fire on three. Ready?” I swallowed and delivered a shaky nod of my own. “One…two…

“Three!”

The griffon and I both popped up over the lip of our cover and began to spit out bursts of gunfire at the soldiers. We didn’t have a lot of rounds remaining, so we couldn’t be as liberal with our application of bullets as might have been preferable for a ‘covering fire’ situation, but the sudden appearance of two creatures firing at them was enough to at least give the other griffons pause. I even spotted a couple of them ducking down behind cover of their own.

It wasn’t as though we were the only ones shooting either. Either Baton Rouge had recognized what we were doing from inside the cockpit, or he and Gerry had been sharing a clairaudient link, because it felt like the Health Harras airwagon’s nose cannon increased in tempo as well, peppering the kingdom’s troops with additional fire. Even Barkly was snapping off poorly-aimed shots as the diamond dog stood fully upright, her weapon held only in her right paw. Meanwhile, she extended her left arm towards the hangar’s exit.

I spared a brief glance over my shoulder, curious what exactly it was that Gerry had expected the band’s bassist to do while we suppressed the enemy. My eyes widened as I spotted a port on her arm open up, and a small missile pop up through it. Barkly trained the weapon on one of the two small turrets which guarded the hangar’s exit and fired.

The projectile traveled at speeds that were in excess of what I could track with the naked eye. It almost felt like I’d simply seen the tiny missile vanish from its mount on the diamond dog’s outstretched arm, and then a fraction of a second later the turret she’d been aiming at exploded. The warhead might have been small in size, but it had clearly packed a not-insignificant punch!

Not missing a beat, Barkly swapped her rifle over to the expended limb and then raised her right arm in the direction of the second turret, preparing to finish clearing our way off the airship. However, after a second, the diamond dog’s brow furrowed and she looked down at the limb in frustration. She shook it, as though she were trying to wake it up after having slept on it wrong and extended the limb straight out again. Still there was no reaction. No tiny rocket popped out of its compartment as it had for her other limb.

“¡Carajo!” She spat as she tried a third time to deploy the weapon sequestered inside her arm.

A second later the massive canine jerked as a trio of rounds struck her in the chest and pitched her back.

“Barkly!” I heard myself cry out. Had I just watched another friend die in front of me? I turned my full attention back towards the enemy soldiers and leaned on the trigger of my rifle. The anemic burst of gunfire ceased far too abruptly as the weapon’s magazine ran dry. Beside me, I could see that Gerry was once more ducking down behind our shared cover, his own gun silent as well, and the pouches on his vest all empty. I couldn’t hear the more thunderous claps of the airwagon’s cannon either.

This was it. Our weapons were dry, and our path off the ship was still barred by an active turret. There was no way that Baton Rouge would be able to get enough speed built up to evade its shots at this distance. Trying to take off would be as sure of a death sentence as staying put and waiting for Jenny’s nuke to go off. Assuming the soldiers didn’t just shoot us first, of course.

We’d come so close. It felt like such a kick in the teeth to have it all yanked out from under us now―

GET READY.

My thoughts were interrupted as another of the odd messages that didn’t appear to have a sender appeared in the corner of my vision. Nor, did it seem this time, was I the only one who had received such a message, as I saw Gerry balk at almost the same time I saw the words appear. The griffon’s features contorted in confusion, and he was just about to remark on what he was seeing when an alarm began to screech through the hangar. A new alarm, accompanied by flashing amber lights. Even the griffon soldiers paused, looking around in confusion.

A moment later, there was an audible automated message: “FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS: ACTIVE. PLEASE EVACUATE HANGAR DECK.”

Then everything went white as a thick foggy mist was injected into the hangar from scores of vents and nozzles built into the walls and ceilings. It was thick enough that I couldn’t even see my hoof in front of my face.

RUN!

I was about to indignantly ask aloud where exactly it was we were supposed to run to, given that everycreature was effectively blinded by the ship’s extinguisher systems. Then a series of illusionary waypoints materialized before my eyes, guiding me towards an outline of the airwagon we’d flown in on. The airwagon wasn’t the only silhouette that I noticed was highlighted for me. I was also able to make out Gerry next to me, even though I could barely see the griffon through the manufactured fog. The more distant griffon soldiers were showing up for me too. However, if their own stumbling around and frustrated yells were anything to go by, they had not been provided with the same illusionary aids that I was.

Something in the mist blew past me, charging in the direction of the disoriented griffon soldiers. A moment later, thanks to the inexplicable presence of those illusionary highlights, I recognized that it was Barkly which had bolted into the fray. I called after her. She clearly knew exactly where the enemy griffons were, as I heard her clobber one of them without a moment’s hesitation, which meant she had to be receiving the same messages that I was. So why wasn’t she running like it was telling us to?

“Get to the airwagon!” Barkly yelled back through the fog. I could see her limbs struggling with something that wasn’t the griffon that she’d just tackled. Then the diamond dog turned to face the hangar’s exit and knelt down into a pose I’d seen in a dozen action flicks as a filly.

She’d found a rocket launcher to use against the remaining turret.

I was on my hooves and moving towards the airwagon as the shockwave produced by the turret’s destruction reverberated through the deck plating beneath me. Gerry and I were both clambering for the open side door. The airwagon’s engine’s began to audibly whine as the batpony pilot spun the craft’s engines up for takeoff. The pair of us made it inside at about the same moment that the alarm for the Anzû’s fire-suppression system went suddenly silent. A heartbeat later I heard the sound of exhaust fans evacuating the extinguishing gas from the hangar, clearing away the obscuring mist.

Suddenly the griffon soldiers were no longer forced to stumble around blindly. Nor were they ignorant of the diamond dog in their midst. For a fleeting moment, I saw Barkly look over at us. I could see her doing the math in her head. The distance she’d have to cross. The fact that the griffon soldiers were armed, and we had nothing left to cover her with. That something had to keep the griffons occupied, or they’d just turn everything that they had on our airwagon and disable it before Baton Rouge could get us out of here.

I saw her consider all of those realities in the space of a breath. Then I saw her smile…just before she spun around and laid out the nearest soldier with a vicious right cross to her beak.

“¡Salgan!” I heard her yell over our link.

Baton Rouge lifted the airwagon off the deck and it began drifting towards the exit. I wanted to protest, but choked it down. As much as I might have detested doing what Barkly had told us to…I was capable of reaching the same conclusions that she was. Without somecreature to keep the soldiers occupied, none of us would get out of here.

That didn’t really make leaving the diamond dog behind any easier though.

As hard as it was though, I couldn’t look away either as Barkly threw herself from one griffon to the next, tearing at the armored soldiers with both teeth and claws like a feral beast. The griffons had clearly not been prepared to face somecreature like her, who was fighting so ferociously, in close quarters. They fell back, trying to escape the reach of her massive paws and the deathly-sharp arcanetic claws that tipped them. Not all of them managed to evade the raging diamond dog.

…But a few did. As the airwagon drifted away from the mouth of the hangar, I saw a couple of the armored griffons gain enough distance on Barkly that they were able to shoulder their weapons and draw a bead on the much larger canine. I saw the muzzle flashes of their barrels as they unloaded on her. Her bulk staggered at first, but refused to go down entirely beneath the deluge of gunfire. Her paw descended, and very nearly rent an unfortunate griffon’s head from her shoulders. Even as their comrade was stuck down, the rest of the soldiers continued to fire.

Finally, the diamond dog dropped. First to her knee, her face contorted with equal parts pain and rage as she raised her paw once more to slash at her killers…

Her claws did not claim another victim when they fell this time though. Instead, Barkly slumped forward…and lay still. A pool of slick crimson blood was visible on the deck around her body. My illusionary HUD indicated that the diamond dog had ‘left’ the clairaudient link our group shared.

I shut my eyes, feeling my teeth grinding in the back of my mouth. Another friend gone. Dead before my eyes while I did nothing! Not that there’d been anything I could meaningfully have done anyway. However, while Future Pel would be able to process that reality later, Present Pel wasn’t in nearly that rational of a mindset. And so I just screamed. It was a wordless cry, born of grief and a general resentment for the cruelty of the universe at large. My eyes burned with unshed tears, as I fought them back.

A clawed hand came to rest gently on my withers. Gerry might not have joined in my scream, but he certainly shared in my feelings.

I turned to the griffon, my mouth open as I prepared to ask him to tell me that this―all of this death and pain―had been worthwhile. That what we’d done here would make a difference in the lives of the citizens of Light City. Because…I just couldn’t for the life of me see it for myself right now.

That question died on my lips though, as the airwagon was suddenly rocked, as though we’d been struck by something. A loud klaxon screaming from the direction of the cockpit, accompanied by a slew of multilingual curses from our pilot, suggested that we indeed had been. I was about to ask what we’d been hit by, concerned it had been a weapon of some sort, when that question was stolen from me too by something massive grabbing hold of me and trying to pull me bodily out of the still-open lateral door of the Health Harras airwagon.

I was halfway out of the transport before two sets of razor-sharp talons clamped down around my barrel, piercing into my flesh. It was anycreature’s guess what made me scream in pain louder: the nearly dozen veritable knives stabbing between my ribs, or the sudden weight latched onto my haunches which felt like it was threatening to detach my hips from the rest of my body. I started flailing at both sources of pain on instinct before the familiar words of Gerry yelling in my ear finally managed to breach my panicking brain and register.

“Hold on, Pel! I’ve got you!”

The strained words grounded me, but did little to clear up my confusion surrounding the abrupt change in my circumstances. It only took me a second after I opened my eyes to recognize what was going on though. Not that I wasn’t still just a little confused though.

I certainly hadn’t expected to see Yona glaring back at me.

There wasn’t time enough for me to piece together in that moment exactly how the augmented yak had come to be on our airwagon. I would later recall that the throne room was located just a couple levels above the small dorsal hangar that we were exiting from. How Yona had known that we were making our escape was likely a detail I’d never know with any sort of certainty, though I did come up with a few plausible theories. Not that any of them mattered in the moment. Whatever the specific circumstances might have been, the fact remained that Yona was here, and she had hold of me. The only reason I wasn’t a smear beneath her on the Anzû’s hull was because of Gerry’s hold on me.

How much longer the griffon tiercel would be able to maintain that hold was apparently a matter of some debate though, as I could hear him grunting with the effort of trying to keep me inside the airwagon. A feat that was being impeded by the fact that the small transport was apparently listing in the direction of the open door thanks in no small part to the imbalance created by the yak hanging mostly out of its side. A precarious situation which Baton Rouge was trying to correct…and failing.

Additional alarms were beginning to sound from the cockpit. While I knew little about the technicalities of piloting airwagons, I did know that it was a ‘not good’ thing when there were a lot of warning lights and things making noises in the cockpit. I also knew that, if those lights and noises persisted for long enough, an airwagon would inevitably go through an abrupt metamorphosis into a groundwagon. With little regard for the comfort―and physical forms―of the passengers inside.

The longer Yona had a hold of me, the greater the chances that Baton Rouge would completely lose control of the airwagon and we’d all crash. If that happened, even if we survived the crash itself onto the dorsal hull of the carrier beneath us, Jenny’s bomb would kill us all in the next minute or so. On the other hoof, if Gerry let me go, the yak and I would fall, but the airwagon would right itself and those two could escape the blast radius in time.

It didn’t take me more than a second after realizing that to make my decision.

“Let me go!” I had to repeat the order two more times before the griffon recognized that it was an order. That I was making a demand of him, and not the yak who had hold of me by my hind end. I saw the tiercel’s dumbfounded expression as he gaped at me, perhaps rightly concluding that I’d lost my mind. Then I saw the comprehension in his emerald eyes as he came to the same conclusion that I had regarding the consequences of him maintaining his hold on me and keeping the airwagon in this precarious list that our pilot couldn’t seem to recover from.

He realized that I was telling him to let me die, so that he could live.

For a second, I thought―hoped―that he just might. But the griffon shook his head in defiance and I felt his grip on my barrel tightened as he reset his footing against the heavily-angled floor of the airwagon. I tried to force his grip to loosen enough that I’d slip out, but I couldn’t overpower him. My struggling ceased when I heard his voice in my ear: “Don’t leave me too…”

At that moment, I felt ashamed. I’d been thinking only in terms of how much it had hurt me to watch the others die. Creatures I hadn’t even known for a month. Meanwhile, Gerry had known them―composed music with them―for years. As much as I ached, the tiercel’s pain had to have been of an entirely different order of magnitude, comparatively.

And I’d just asked him to effectively kill me.

Not that I really felt having all of us die was an objectively better outcome, of course…

There was another clambering thud of something bouncing off the hull of the airwagon just before I caught a brown and black blur drop past the door. A moment later I felt some additional weight straining at my hips and it felt like the airwagon tilted slightly further over. How the craft hadn’t yet just outright rolled over I assumed was a testament to the batpony pilot’s skills, because it felt like I was staring directly down at the top of the carrier by now. Though it wasn’t the airship below us that I was focused on; it was the battered and bloodied donkey who was clinging to Yona.

Jenny looked very much worse for wear since the last time I’d seen her in the throne room. Most of her coat and mane was matter with blood. Her eponymous arcanetic limb was in tatters, looking more like a collection of barely hanging together actuators and solenoids than a functional limb. Yet, in spite of her state―or perhaps in part because of it―Jenny was throttling the more massive yak like a donkey possessed.

“I’m not done with you yet, Masher!”

While it didn’t look like Jenny was inflicting a lot of serious damage upon the yak, her tantrum was having an effect. For just the briefest of moments, Yona’s hold on me slipped. Suddenly I was relieved of the several hundred kilograms of augmented yak wrapped around my flanks and was no longer being pulled simultaneously in two directions. I felt myself being heaved back into the airwagon as Gerry no longer found himself having to struggle against Yona’s mass.

Unfortunately for the both of us, Yona was not completely dislodged. However, between her descent further out of the airwagon, and my being hoisted deeper within it, the yak did find herself with precious few options available. Not that Yona seemed inclined to be particularly choosy at the moment.

I screamed again as I felt the yak’s alloyed jaw clamp onto my leg.

Once more there was the better part of a metric ton of augmented yak dragging me out of the Health Harras transport; and while Gerry’s talons were still embedded into my sides, the griffon had lost his earlier leverage when the two of us had lurched just a moment ago. I felt Gerry’s talons lose their hold. The two of us started to tumble out the side. I was suddenly wrapped in the sensation of freefall…

…And then it was immediately arrested when something very nearly ripped my forelimb from my socket. Another cry escaped me as I felt my shoulder and knee both simultaneously dislocate. I looked up, and spotted Gerry all but dangling out of the side of the airwagon himself, one hand gripping onto a hold inside the transport, and the other wrapped around my fetlock, his talons having carved deep furrows into the arcanetic structure of the limb. His face was a mask of pain as he strained to hold myself, Jenny, and the yak. I idly wondered whose limb would rip out of their socket first: his or mine. Either outcome would spell my end and his salvation of course.

“Rouge!” The tiercel screamed over his shoulder into the craft. “Help me!”

The batpony couldn’t leave the cockpit of course. His presence at the controls was the only thing keeping the airwagon aloft at the moment. However, I did see a brief glow of light, followed by a pistol flipping through the air at the griffon. Gerry lit his own arcanetic jewel and snatched the tumbling weapon out of the air. I saw the aura of magic dim and flicker though. The griffon was doubtlessly experiencing a lot of pain, making it extremely difficult to concentrate on the telekinesis cantrip. And he certainly could free a hand to aim the weapon.

Finally, he locked eyes with me. “Pel, take it!” The griffon lowered the pistol down to me. I reached out with my own magic to complete the transfer, trying my best to focus through the pain of my dislocated limbs. I felt my hold on the weapon solidify―

The airwagon gave a shudder and dropped.

It wasn’t much. Maybe a meter or two. Baton Rouge managed to correct whatever had gone wrong almost immediately. But it was too late. The damage had been done. As we dropped, I felt the strain on my limbs vanish in an instant. Then, when our plummet was arrested once more a heartbeat later…

There was no force on Equus that would have allowed me to maintain my telekinesis. Not through the pain of having two crippled limbs manhandled from two ends simultaneously. The cantrip failed and the pistol fell away, dropping past Jenny and the yak to the Anzû below. Though it might as well have fallen all the way to Tartarus for all the difference it made. I let out an aggrieved curse, hanging my head in despair.

That was it then. No weapon. A failing airwagon. A coin flip between whose shoulder tore away first, mine or Gerry’s―assuming all of us weren’t just atomized by the bomb in Jenny’s belly before that could happen.

It was over. We were over.

“Pel!”

It was Jenny who’d called out to me this time. I looked down at the donkey. My eyes widened when I saw what she was holding in her arcanetic hoof―or what was left of it: she still had her own weapon. Jenny tossed it up at me.

I tried to reach for it with my talisman, but I could instantly tell that wasn’t going to prove any more fruitful than the last time. I was just in too much pain to focus. So, instead, I swiped at it with my free forelimb; the one that Gerry hadn’t very nearly torn out of its socket. I made contact and scooped the weapon in close to my chest, clutching it up against me like I was a drowning mare who’d been tossed a life preserver, because that was exactly what this moment had felt like.

I slipped my hoof into the grip of the weapon and leveled it down at the yak’s face.

Then I hesitated as my eyes locked onto Jenny’s.

It was silly, of course. The idea that dislodging Yona would also cause her to fall to her death as well shouldn’t have bothered me. Both of us knew that she was a dead donkey walking no matter what. I wasn’t really killing her by doing this. Not really. She’d made that decision before we’d even flown out here.

This wasn’t me killing Jenny…this was me saving three others.

My features hardened as I looked down at the yak’s face through the pistol’s sights. Yona merely glared back at me. I spotted the faintest upturn of her lip in amusement. She wasn’t concerned about the weapon. After all, she’d already been shot by it several times that night. For all I knew, she’d shrugged off far larger and more lethal calibers than this in the past with no lasting effect. She knew that the weapon posed no threat to her. I knew this too. Shooting the yak would be pointless.

I let my point of aim drift downward…and fired a shot through my knee.

The round―whose destructive capabilities I’d previously seen demonstrated to great effect during the assault on Grinder’s headquarters―absolutely eviscerated the joint. Already being subjected to immense strain by the weight of the yak hanging from my leg to the point that it was an honest to Celestia miracle it had lasted as long as it did, the effect of the high-powered ammunition passing through it was both immediate and devastating. My knee effectively exploded into a cloud of alloys, plastics, and gemstones.

Once again I felt myself being heaved upwards towards the airwagon by Gerry even as the yak fell away. However, this time Yona was not able to find any additional purchase, though she did try. Her limbs swiped at me, but passed through empty air. I finally saw the yak’s calm indifference give way to fear and panic as she began to tumble end over end towards the airship below.

Jenny as well, though the donkey’s expression wasn’t one of fear. It was relief. She knew that we could get away now. We could escape, and survive. Honestly, in some ways, it was a little more unsettling to see the serene smile on the donkey’s lips as she dropped to her death. Fortunately, I didn’t have to look at it for long as I found myself being yanked bodily inside the airwagon.

Gerry once more lost his balance as the force that he’d been fighting against for so long vanished in an instant. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that the Health Harras transport―who’s left-side thrusters had been redlining themselves trying to keep the craft from rolling over completely onto its back―now just about overspun the craft in the opposite direction. I missed most of Baton Rouge’s curses as the griffon and I tumbled into the other side of the fuselage in a pile of limbs and shared pain.

I felt the griffon’s arms wrap around me. Not in some desperate bid to keep me from falling to my doom. His hold was much more gentle now, though still quite firm. Like he needed to assure himself that I really was inside the airwagon with him.

The deck trembled and spun beneath us as our batpony pilot wrenched the beleaguered airwagon around and made all haste to get as far from the Anzû. I don’t think any of us knew how long we had before Jenny’s bomb went off, but it was known that we wanted to be as far away as possible.

Through the immense pain, I was vaguely aware of the scenery visible through the still open door of the airwagon. The fact that there even was any scenery only barely managed to pierce the fog that numbed all of my thoughts. I hurt, and tired, and emotionally drained, and I could feel the adrenaline leaving my body, taking all of my remaining fucks with it. Maybe that was why it only barely registered with me that I was seeing a lot more billboards and skyscrapers than there should reasonably be on the ocean.

Then a brilliant amethyst flash forced me to close my eyes and turn away, burying my face into Gerry’s chest. A moment later the airwagon shook. Violently. There were fresh alarms again. More yelling and cursing from our pilot. He yelled for us to hold on, so I clamped my good forelimb around the griffon who was holding me. In hindsight, that probably hadn’t been what the batpony had meant, but I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I wasn’t sure if the weightlessness I was feeling was because I was finally starting to pass out from the pain, or because the airwagon was losing altitude. Probably both.

More alarms. More Fancy-speckled yelling. More buildings flickering past the open door at ever concerning speeds.

I was numb to all of it.

The only thing I remembered clearly was the sound of Gerry’s voice in my ear: “I’ve got you,” he assured me. “I’ve got you…”

He repeated those three words over and over…

…And then we hit; and everything stopped.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

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Epilogue: Chippin' In

“I woke up three weeks later in a little back-alley clinic,” I said as I leaned over the terrace’s railing, staring out at Light City. “It was run by one of Rouge’s associates. Same kirin that did the…um, ‘work’ on Jenny before the Anzû op.” I felt my lips curl into a sneer at that thought. Both at the donkey for doing something so reckless, and the ‘doctor’ who’d actually performed the procedure. I’d been under the―apparently erroneous―understanding that doctors abided by a moral code not to harm their patients. Showed what I knew about medicine…

My attention wandered―as it inevitably did whenever I was near the downtown area these days―towards the nearby construction site. Reckless though she may have been, nocreature could fault Jenny’s planning acumen. Just as she’d intended, her bomb had detonated atop the griffon flagship just as it had come to hover over Aeriesaka Tower. The blast had taken out the airship’s engines and main reactors, cleaving it from the sky and sending it crashing through the skyscraper below.

Since it had still been the middle of the night, collateral damage had actually been pretty minimal. All hooves aboard the ship itself had been lost, obviously. But only night shift Aeriesaka Security, private security attached to their client tenants, and some night janitors had been lost in the building itself. A few hundred dead, compared to the tens of thousands that worked in the building during peak business hours. After all, Jenny had wanted this to be a statement, not a massacre. At least, not of civilians.

Whether or not that statement would fall on deaf ears remained to be seen though. However, the prospect wasn’t looking good at the moment. Aeriesaka was already in the process of rebuilding their headquarters, intending to make it ‘bigger and better than ever’, promising all manner of technological and architectural improvements over its predecessor. Their stock price had already rebounded back to a level above where it had been before Jenny’s strike.

She’d made a statement though, and gotten the attention of a lot of important creatures. For better or for worse.

Case in point…

I looked over my shoulder to the other side of the terrace, and the mare seated at the table there. She was doing a fine job of looking politely interested in my story, as long as it had been. She’d told me that she’d wanted to know ‘everything’ though, so if at any point she’d felt like I’d been too long-winded about something, that was on her.

I stepped away from the railing and started making my own way back to the table, eyeing my host as I approached. “I spent the next few months helping build a new crew―and a new band,” I added with an off-hoof nod in the direction of a billboard which bore my likeness plastered upon it, advertising a concert which would feature our group’s―Harmony―first album. “And since then we’ve been keeping busy doing…stuff.” I said with a shrug and smirk.

The tall mare with the faded lavender coat and graying purple mane returned the smile with an upturned lip of her own. The opal embedded in her forehead started to glow as she picked up a newspaper laying on the table. She made a show of regarding the headline with great interest, which mentioned the recent release of confidential documents to the net which brought to light the scandalous revelation that a food distributor had been spiking their products with ‘appetite stimulants’ that would induce creatures to eat more of their products. The full extent of the fallout remained to be seen, but of course there was already the usual talk about ‘leadership reorganization’ at the company and such.

In my opinion, the bigger news was the petition going around to set up a regulatory body that would inspect and control the additives that could be used in food sold in Light City. It was just talk at this point, sure; but it was a good first step. If enough scandals of a similar nature came to light in the future, maybe the movement would even manage to grow beyond talk and petitions into genuine action and legislation.

We’d have to see.

“Funny you should bring that up,” I said, nodding in the direction of the paper the other mare was holding. “Because we still haven’t been able to trace the source of the ‘anonymous tip’ we got that pointed us in YumYum Inc.’s direction in the first place.” My eyes lingered knowingly on my host, who was herself doing a good job of continuing to look politely interested in what I was saying. “Every attempt to backtrace it hits a wall. A big wall.

“Like, a ‘whoever this is has beyond top-tier net access’ kind of wall.” Still she said nothing in response to my not-so-thinly-veiled insinuations. So I pressed just a little bit further. “A ‘can access systems on a griffon military airship remotely’ level of net access, maybe?”

The pink alicorn’s lip tugged at the corner of her muzzle into a slightly larger smile for a brief moment before quickly reverting to its earlier more neutral expression. It was all the confirmation I needed though. Likely the only confirmation that I was going to get too. Unlike my host, however, I wasn’t nearly as amused, and I made that plain to the mare with a thin scowl in her direction.

“A ‘can make all the changes we’re fighting―and dying―for with a single word’ level of access.”

This time the other mare’s smile waned. Her posture visibly wilted. Not because I’d managed to make her feel ashamed though. I hadn’t cut her that deep. It was more akin to emotional exhaustion. An understanding that she’d reached with herself where she had long ago justified her hooves-off approach and resigned herself to the fact that creatures were going to suffer while she sat up here in her crystal tower and did nothing. I wanted to hate her for that. Part of me even did. But there was some small, visceral, part of me buried deep in my gut that wanted to believe there was a good reason why the alicorn was taking the approach that she was.

After all, she was an alicorn. Older than Light City itself. The product of wisdom I could only fathom. She had to know what she was doing, and the best way to approach things.

Right?

Maybe deferring to alicorns was just some deep-rooted pony instinct or something…

“I could change the laws.”

She’d surprised me with the frank admission for sure. Of course, I could hear a ‘but’ coming from a mile away.

“But―” There it is. “―that’s not the same thing as changing a society. Laws only matter if they’re enforced; and they would only be enforced if they’re respected―not just by those in power, but by the whole of the citizenry.

“Tell me with a straight face that you’d trust any regulatory body that the mayor created to police the corporations.”

Now it was my turn for my posture to sag with the weight of resignation. She wasn’t wrong. “Well not this mayor,” I was forced to admit ruefully. Even if a regulatory board was appointed to monitor foodstuffs for adulteration, I would fully expect it to be staffed by the mayor’s cronies, or former executives, or corporate consultants―or just other creatures on the payroll of companies like YumYum. Because that was the way things worked in Light City.

Another sad smile from the alicorn as she nodded. “Real change can’t be imposed. It has to come from within―from the bottom-up. Creatures have to want to do the right thing because it’s the right thing; not because they’re being threatened with government action or sanctions or whatever,” she said, offering a flick of her wing. Another sad smile flickered in my direction. “Even an alicorn can’t do that.”

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips as I crossed the rest of the way to the table and took a seat across from the pink mare. I understood the truth of what she was saying, but that didn’t mean that I liked it. Or that I was going to let her entirely off the hook. “How’d it even get this bad?” I asked. “You can’t tell me that Equestria is like this,” I gestured to the downtown area.

This time the alicorn did look guilty. She took a deep breath, obviously anticipating that what she was going to say was something I’d find upsetting. “Equestria wasn’t like this, no.” My ear flicked at the use of past tense, but she continued on before I could remark on it. “It pains me to say, but Light City is the way it is…on purpose. Sort of.”

My eyes immediately narrowed at the other mare. Alicorn or no, I felt that I might overcome those deferential instincts of mine and clock her upside the head depending on what she said next. “Light City isn’t known as ‘The Grand Experiment’ because it’s a catchy PR phrase,” she went on. “That’s literally what it is.” She flinched and sighed. “Well…was, at any rate.

“Safe to say the ‘experiment’ has run its course…” She looked out across the terrace towards the Aeriesaka construction site.

She had the good grace to jerk in shock when my hoof hit the table hard enough to bounce the whole of the tea set that was sitting on it, even jostling the spoon right out of the sugar bowl. Her ears pinned back as I glared at her, a low growl bubbling up from deep down in my throat. “An experiment?” I seethed at the mare. “You put me―my friends―all of us, through this fucking tartarus, as an experiment?!”

I lunged at her. I couldn’t stop myself. The very notion that we were being toyed with by this mare was infuriating. Creatures had died. Hash Stack had died, bleeding out in my own hooves. And now I was being told that she was just some sort of data point in a lab report somewhere? Fuck her! A hoof across her muzzle wasn’t going to come anywhere close to making things even, obviously, but it would be a start; and it would certainly make me feel just a tiny bit better.

Not that I got anywhere close to landing a hit on the alicorn though. I’d barely made it out of my seat before the alicorn’s opal flashed with magical light. Then I saw several alerts pop up in front of my eyes a heartbeat before I fell flat on my face across the table. I tried to get back up, but none of my limbs would respond. My arcanetics had been taken completely offline. I couldn’t move. Thanks to most of my jaw having been replaced after my confrontation with Grinder, I couldn’t even coherently curse her out either. I could still glare at her though.

“Calm down, Appellate.”

It sounded very odd to my ears to hear a name which, to the best of my knowledge, existed only on my birth certificate. It was enough of a shock to prompt me to stop struggling in futility though; which was likely what the alicorn had intended.

The fact that the alicorn’s tone sounded so calm and understanding only served to infuriate me more. While I doubted she intended it this way, it felt like she was mocking me. She knew I was helpless to do anything to her. She’d probably always known. Which helped to explain why the nominal ‘head’ of GlimTech had invited an ‘alleged’ criminal-rockerfilly into her penthouse suite while telling her security personnel to wait outside. There probably wasn’t a single creature in the city who could make a move to harm her, because she could just cut their strings like a fucking puppet the moment they tried.

“First, I need you to understand―and I swear to you this is true―no creature ‘put’ you, or your friends, through anything,” she insisted, still speaking in a calm, yet firm, tone. Almost like a parent talking to her child. Which I wasn’t very appreciative of either. “It wasn’t that kind of experiment.

“In fact, at the core of it was that I and the others specifically wouldn’t do anything to affect things. What happened to you and your friends wasn’t the result of anything that I did,” the alicorn affirmed in that same authoritative tone before it softened. “...and it certainly wasn’t anything I wanted for you. Any of you.”

The warnings vanished from my field of view, and sensation returned to my arcanetics once more. Slowly, cautiously, I lifted myself off the table and slipped back into my seat, not taking my glowering gaze off the alicorn. I still wanted to sock her in the muzzle, but I understood how futile a gesture that would be. “So what kind of experiment were you running then?”

Gauging that I was going to behave for the moment, the pink mare allowed herself to relax slightly. She turned her attention, and her talisman, to cleaning up the mess my collapse across the table had caused while she answered my question. “We were studying Greed,” she replied simply. “It’s causes, it’s manifestations,” her gaze flickered towards the nearby plaza once more, “it’s ultimate result.

“We needed to understand it,” she finished tidying up the table. Her telekinesis then poured and prepared me a fresh cup of tea, sliding the bright fuchsia saucer and cup towards me. I didn’t take it. “So we could better defend against it in the future.” This time her eyes darted westward, but not at anything particular within the city. It was more like she was looking past the buildings themselves, towards something far off in the distance. Equestria, I presumed.

“But that’s over with now,” the alicorn insisted with a definitive nod of her head. “I’m calling the experiment a ‘dismal success’ and pulling the plug.” The smile that crept across her lips this time was a bitter thing. Though it warmed slightly when she locked her attention back on me again. “Now it’s time to clean up the mess. To that end, I’d very much like to enlist your help.”

“You want my help?” I cocked a dubious brow in the alicorn’s direction, before letting my gaze wander slowly around the terrace and the rest of the building, not-so-subtly drawing attention to the stupendous resources that the other mare commanded…and yet I―a small-time crook and rockerfilly―was going to help her? Right.

Taking my meaning, she had the good grace to roll her eyes and let out a chortle as she nodded. “Fair enough. Allow me to rephrase: I’d like to help you.”

“Cool. Tell city hall to pass laws to rein in the corps. Then use your influence to get the CEOs to fall in line,” I quipped without hesitation.

The alicorn was already shaking her head though, still smiling wanly. “I already told you―”

“Yeah, yeah; change society first,” I spat, sounding unconvinced because I still was. “And how am I―one mare―supposed to do that?”

“You’d be surprised what one mare in the right place, at the right time, can accomplish,” she said with a knowing look that felt like it was more for her own benefit than mine. I certainly didn’t get whatever higher meaning might have been behind it, if there really had been one. “But I believe you’re already on the right track.” She inclined her head behind me, in the direction of the digital billboard advertising the album releasing soon. “I’ve already listened to it, and I like the message. I think it’ll resonate with creatures.”

Again I narrowed my eyes at the alicorn. How could she have heard the album already? Those songs only existed with our band and―

I let out an annoyed grunt. Our distributor obviously had them on their servers too, I realized; and I was sitting with a mare to whom ‘network security’ meant nothing if she didn’t want it to. “I’d say I was surprised that a mare with all the resources you have would stoop to pirating music…but rich elites stealing from the little pony is the status quo in Light City.” I arched a brow in her direction.

The alicorn cast me a sly look. A second later I received notification of a funds transfer into the band’s account for the sale price of the album. “Well I could have pointed out that a free copy was the least I was owed, considering what I’ve done to help you.” Another raised brow in her direction from me, which only served to broaden her smile. “The Anzû aside,” she began with a flick of her wing. I was already grimacing. “You didn’t actually think you got away clean with the YumYum job?” My scowl deepened as I tried to recall when during that job I’d seen a sign of her meddling.

“Your team’s skilled, but green. And Light City has a lot of cameras,” she shared a knowing look with me. “Don’t get tunnel vision on the next operation. I can’t promise I’ll always be able to get to residual footage before the NCPD or corporate security does.”

I filed away the critique, and made a note to talk with Shell Code, our drummer, about blacking out security feeds along our approach and withdrawal routes during the upcoming job. The alicorn wasn’t entirely wrong: the crew was still finding their footing where engaging in these sorts of clandestine missions was concerned.

“So is that the new deal? We keep on doing what we’re doing, and you’ll be our―literal―Guardian Alicorn watching over our shoulder?” I asked. “And eventually, some day, Light City will just be fixed? Just like that?” I clopped my hooves together lightly as I regarded the other mare with a dubious expression.

She let out a tired laugh in reply. “Changing hearts and minds never happens ‘just like that’,” she informed me with a sardonic smile. “There’s no magic spell for that.” The mare thought for a brief moment and then frowned. “Well, I mean there is, but…” Her eyes rose up and at first I thought she was looking at the arcanetic jewel mounted in her forehead, but then I realized she was looking past it, to the tip of her horn. Then she let out a defeated sigh and shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Someday there’ll be real magic again.”

The alicorn cleared her throat and returned her focus to me. “But, yes, essentially that’s what I’m saying: keep getting the message out. Encourage others to spread that message too. I know you have Twilight’s journal,” she said, flashing me another knowing look. I tensed slightly again as the mare revealed one more thing she appeared to know about that I hadn’t expected her to. Though, given our prior topics of discussion, I found myself idly wondering if, just maybe, Hash Stack hadn’t had more than ‘luck’ on her side when she’d recovered those files initially…

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this mare having a hoof in things from the shadows like that, and apparently for that long.

“Preach the Elements,” she went on, “in song and in deed.” Her eyes darted back to the billboard and a fresh smile tugged at her lips. “Spread Harmony.

“I can’t promise things will change soon, but they will change. Light City didn’t get this bad in a day, and it won’t be healed in one either. It’ll take work,” there was a slight pause now, “...maybe even more sacrifices.” Both of us shared a knowing look, though I knew mine was harsher. One of us would be feeling those ‘sacrifices’ more than the other, I suspected. “I’ve seen the kind of world we’re working towards, Appellate. I promise it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

The two of us sat in silence for a good while once the alicorn was done with her pitch. We both knew I’d been hoping for a bolder commitment from the alicorn. I wasn’t going to be walking away empty-hooved, but that didn’t mean that this deal still didn’t leave a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn’t like I could force her hoof though. If this was all we were going to get, then…that was that.

I stood up from the table. “I’ll remember to use that line the next time I’m holding some dying filly or colt in my hooves,” I didn’t quite snarl at the alicorn before turning away and heading for the exit. There wasn’t anything more I was going to gain from being here. I’d fulfilled my part of the deal by telling her what had happened on board and leading up to the incident on the Anzû. She’d either keep her word and help or she wouldn’t.

It wouldn’t change what needed to be done to help Light City.

“And it’s ‘Pel’,” I said over my shoulder as I retreated from the terrace.

“Okay, Pel,” the alicorn smiled after me. “My friends call me ‘Starlight’!”

I paused at the door, letting out a derisive huff. “I’m sure they do, Miss Glimmer.” I didn’t have to see the pink alicorn to feel her smile fade from her lips as I slipped out the door and joined her waiting security detail. She was no ‘friend’ to me, secret benefactor or no. I’d watched most of my friends die a year ago.

Her security detail escorted me, firmly but politely, to the elevator and down to the lobby. While they didn’t precisely kick me out of the building altogether, it was none-to-subtly hinted that I shouldn’t loiter. Presumably the ‘shabby’ attire in the form of my worn vest clashed with the aesthetic that the company was going for. Whatever. I had places to be anyway.

A sedan was parked just off the street. I did a poor job of hiding a smile as a yellow earth pony mare dressed in a flatteringly-cut suit jacket opened a door and gestured for me to enter. I hadn’t called down to let Daisy know that I was coming, but somehow she’d timed things perfectly. She winked at me as I slipped inside before she closed the door. A short while later, the little mare was climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

“Where to, boss?” I saw her beaming in the rearview mirror.

“Back to The Loft, duh. I have a concert in, like,” my gaze darted to the illusionary chronometer in the corner of my vision, “an hour.”

“I know,” Daisy rolled her eyes as she guided the vehicle away from the curb and started directing us back home, “but I couldn’t not say the line!” She giggled. “We’re downtown; there are certain ‘expectations’ of classiness!”

“Is that why you’re wearing the jacket?”

“...Maybe.” She poked her tongue out at me through the mirror. As the car drifted onto the highway out of the heart of the city, she settled onto another topic of conversation. “So…how was the meeting? Was it one of those ‘do we have an understanding?’ deals, or more of a ‘I will bury you under this city if you get in my way again’ thing?”

“Nah, nothing like that,” I said to the mare, waving a hoof. Admittedly, I hadn’t been thinking far off of those lines myself on the way up to the alicorn’s suite. When the nominal founder of Light City summons a trouble-making radical to ‘come alone’ to their apartment in the heart of the city, you kind of assume it isn’t for an autograph. Not that I’d had any sort of plan if that had been the case. What was I going to do to an alicorn?

“Believe it or not,” and my tone made it clear which way I was leaning, “she says she wants to help us.”

“Okay, so what was the punchline?” Daisy snorted.

“Hoof to Celestia,” I replied, “that’s what she said. Basically. I don’t expect a line of credit brimming with gibbies, or a horde of GlimTech security goons ready to swoop in and save us when things go tits-up,” I warned her, “but I think she’ll be working to keep the fallout to a minimum when we nick some corporate secrets, like with YumYum.” I decided to leave out Starlight Glimmer’s claim that she’d already kept us from getting found out on that front. The whole crew had felt pretty good about getting away ‘clean’ after a ‘flawless’ op. I didn’t want to dampen their spirits now that I knew better. They needed the confidence boost.

“Hmm,” was Daisy’s reply, clearly no more convinced than I was about the extent of our ‘benefactor’s’ commitment. “I guess that’s better than making an enemy for life,” she pointed out.

All I could offer to that was a grunt of agreement as the car left downtown Light City and entered the Haywood borough. My lips creased into a slightly deeper frown as I once more took note of the noticeable downtown in the quality of the buildings and the general level of cleanliness of the streets and structures alike. It was evident which parts of the city its leaders cared more about maintaining. In the back of my mind, I made a note to look into how feasible it would be for us to fund a ‘beautification’ effort on the side. Something to help the creatures living in the area take a bit more pride in the neighborhood and hopefully, by extension, themselves.

I’d bring the matter up with Daisy during our next budget discussion.

The earth pony mare pulled the car up outside the converted warehouse that served as our base of operations and concert hall. Though my attention was initially focused on the more recently repurposed buildings across the street. There was a line of creatures waiting to be served at one of the soup kitchens that we’d established. Next door was a clinic with a full-ish waiting room visible through the window. I made another mental note to look into hiring an additional doctor. Another budgetary consideration to bring up with Daisy.

Maybe it was time to look into widening our pool of blackmail and extortion victims, I thought to myself, a vicious smile creeping across my muzzle. We’d released the files that we’d pulled from YumYum’s servers which detailed how they’d been effectively ‘poisoning’ their customers in an effort to boost profits, but that hadn’t been the entirety of what Shell Code had managed to recover. I’d only skimmed through some of the other stuff that hadn’t been directly company related, but I suspected that there was a good deal of ‘dirty little secrets’ of a more personal nature to the executives and board of directors that we could use as leverage against them to secure some additional ‘hush money’ payments.

Somecreature always had some side-mares or stallions or whatever that they didn’t want their spouse knowing about. As long as we weren’t too ambitious with the amount, paying us off to keep quiet was usually more cost effective than losing half their assets in a messy and public divorce. And that was assuming that none of what we found was genuinely illegal.

“Thanks for the lift, DC,” I said to the mare as I finally got out of the car and made my way to the Loft’s rear entrance. I nodded at the pair of bouncers keeping watch as they opened the door for me. The moment my hoof set foot inside, I found myself all but accosted by a young cyan pegasus colt.

“Boss! I have an update on Operation Flotsam, and new intelligence for Anzio just came in! Also, Team Saddle says they need―” the young pony’s words ceased tumbling out of their mouth as I pushed a hoof to the end of his muzzle.

“Woah there, Blip,” I said, stemming the flood of information being effectively thrust upon me by my new ‘secretary’. My brow creased in mild confusion. “Flotsam? Anzio? Saddle? What are you talking about?”

The younger stallion briskly moved my hoof aside and proceeded to explain. “Flotsam is the codename for the Wayfare Pier break-in happening night after next,” his tone suggested that this should have been rather obvious, yet I was quite confident that our planning meetings had never contained anything like ‘codenames’ up to this point. “And Anzio is the griffon mob thing we’re doing.

“Team Saddle is Lumen’s crew.”

I was rolling my eyes initially, but then drew up short and cocked my head, peering curiously at the little pegasus. “...Did you name them Team Saddle because Lumen is a Saddle Arabian?” I knew we weren’t managing so many crews that it justified using phonetic alphabet monikers which extended that far down the list.

Blip’s lips pressed themselves together tightly for several seconds as the uncomfortable-looking colt considered his response. “...Maybe?”

I massaged the bridge of my muzzle and let out a tired sigh. “I love your enthusiasm, Blip―I really do―but let’s pump the brakes on the ‘codename’ stuff for now, okay?” The pegasus frowned in annoyance, but nodded all the same. “Leave the update on the Wayfare thing on my desk, along with the mafia stuff. Whatever Lumen says they need, get it for them. Also, I need you to comb through the YumYum take and look for anything juicy that their higher-ups there wouldn’t want to read about in the headlines.

“Affairs, bastards, double-dealings, embezzling―you know the drill,” I waved a hoof in the direction of my ‘secretary’ as I started heading for the concert hall. I could already hear the sounds of instruments being tuned and the sound system being tested for the upcoming performance that was going to start in…ten minutes. Oh, shit! My pace hurried into a trot, the colt activating his flight talismans to glide beside me. “Prioritize the things we’re likely to be able to secure recurring payments over, but anything that they’d pay six figures to keep under wraps is worth marking too.”

“On it, boss!” they assured me before flitting off to go and carry out my orders. He was a good colt, I reminded myself. A little overeager sometimes, but his heart was definitely in the right place. I’d definitely rather have him pestering me about adopting codenames than slinging glitter on the streets like he’d been doing when I found him.

I trotted the rest of the way to the stage where the band was finishing up their preparations. Beyond the stage, most of the crowd seemed to have already gathered, and there was a smattering of cheers and stomps as they caught sight of Harmony’s lead singer stepping on stage.

I smiled and waved, but most of my attention was focused on the other band members. It took some effort, but I managed to not wince too hard seeing all of the new faces that hadn’t been there a year ago. Having Gerry there made things a little easier. The griffon tiercel was a singular constant that I could lash myself to, and it really helped having him here.

The band’s lead guitarist extended one of his lavender arcanetic limbs, which was holding a purple and gold leather vest out to me. My hesitation was brief enough that I doubted any of the creatures in the audience would have noticed it, but I could tell that Gerry had, along with catching my gaze lingering on the synthetic replacements of his limbs which were a relatively new feature for the griffon. ‘Souvenirs’ of the airwagon crash. It was probable that the only reason I was even alive was because he’d been holding onto me as tightly as he had been; and he’d paid a price for it.

I took the offered vest and swapped mine out for it, levitating my own blue jacket off to the side and out of the way. My gaze lingered briefly on the golden six-pointed star on the back of the lavender leather vest. Harmony’s new logo, pulled from the cover of the Friendship Journal that was required reading for any of our organization’s new inductees.

There’s been talk, in the aftermath of the Anzû bombing, of trying to simply reconstitute Hussar. However, with basically only the one member of it remaining, Gerry, that seemed like an endeavor that was doomed to fail. Jenny had been the voice and the driving force behind the old band, not the griffon. Any attempt to carry on with its legacy was doomed to fall flat, as there would be no way to keep the sound of future music resonating with the old fans.

In the end, the two of us had decided that a fresh start, as well as a fresh message, was in order. And so Hussar and its wendigo-faced label had been retired, and Harmony formed in its place. We’d reached out and filled out the open positions with dual-talented musicians much like Jenny had―creatures who could not only play instruments decently enough, but who could undertake missions against the city’s more malicious corporate actors.

Shell Code, our new hippogriff drummer―and ‘nettrotter extraordinaire’ as he’d described himself―had been the first. Soon after we’d managed to grab up a minotaur keyboard player, Smokey. There’d been a little pushback on his inclusion in our ranks, as he was an actively serving member of the LCPD. However, I’d managed to convince the others that the ‘in’ he gave us where the activities of the police were concerned far outweighed any risks his affiliation imposed. A conclusion that I’d come to after he and I had shared a very long heart-to-heart talk.

The minotaur had told me about how frustrated he’d become seeing the city’s more ‘privileged’ creatures get slaps on the limb―if even that much―for things that landed the average Haywood or Trotson resident in prison for years. His breaking point had come when he’d been in the process of arresting a griffon for the murder of a ‘working mare’ in a Clawcifica motel, only for his sergeant to tell him to let the tiercel go. Smokey had starred in utter bewilderment as an expensive looking limousine pulled up, collected the murderer, and drove away. All while three other prostitutes―the victim’s friends―watched it happen. The betrayal he’d seen in their eyes as he uncuffed the monster who’d all but butchered their friend…it had broken the rookie officer.

Smokey had learned later that the tiercel was the son of a well-to-do politician in the city’s government. Daddy had apparently put in a call to the chief and the DA before police had even arrived on the scene. Just like that, the order to release him had been given and the death was officially ruled an ‘accident’. Nothing would ever happen to that griffon.

The next day he heard that a pony he’d nabbed for snatching a purse in City Central was given ten years. It had been their third offense, and the laws of Light City mandated an enhanced sentence for repeat offenders. Ten years for stealing a hundred gibbies, but nothing for a murderer. The minotaur almost handed his badge in right then and there. But then he’d overheard a perp in the station’s jail mention that a mare in Haywood was recruiting creatures for ‘work’ on the down-low. He’d started trying to subtly ask questions to find me. Baton Rouge told me about him, and I was intrigued enough to arrange a meeting.

Now he worked for us. The future would bear out whether my trust was well-placed or not. But Harmony was about giving creatures a chance, and I intended to live up to that expectation.

The last of our crew was a pegasus mare who went by the name ‘Ghost’ who played bass. This was not her real name, and she had admitted as much. Curiously enough, any and all attempts to learn what her name actually was through research on the net had all hit dead ends. As far as any of us could tell, the mare didn’t exist. No history, no records, no nothing.

Which, in a place like Light City, should have been effectively impossible. On the other hoof, she appeared to not possess arcanetics, much like Jenny; which meant that it would have been difficult for the city’s networks to maintain any sort of database on her anyway. And while the lack of any way to look into her past had been something of a red flag during her recruitment, the soot-black mare’s performance on her probationary operations had been nothing short of extraordinary.

The mare was a breaking and entering savant. While she never shared any of her secrets on how she accomplished her tricks without the benefit of net access―much to my eye-twitch-inducing annoyance―it seemed like the mare was always able to basically just walk into any place we pointed her at. She might as well have actually been a ghost, as far as I could tell. We’d be debating how to get past the physical security guarding some building or other, and then Ghost would walk off out of sight for fifteen minutes or so without explanation, only to show back up with some critical piece of data or security passes that she alleged to have ‘found’ laying around on the premises. It was like she’d somehow convinced the ponies in the building to just give her whatever we needed for our missions sometimes…

I didn’t even question it anymore. It wasn’t like she was the only pony I’d even met with a mysterious past. She got results; and if she was some plant meant to undermine us from the inside, she’d have been able to sabotage us a dozen times over already. But she never had. She got a little too ‘friendly’ with Gerry for my tastes on occasion; but she’d made more than a few passes at me too, so I figured she was just a bit rakish as a rule. Kind of like Dandy had been.

At least she didn’t collect cutie-mark patches…

“How was the meeting?” Gerry asked as he made some final adjustments to his guitar.

“We’re not on GlimTech’s shitlist,” I informed the griffon. “The big mare says she wants to support us from the sidelines. Says,” I repeated with some emphasis, sharing a knowing look with the tiercel. In response, he flashed me a smile and chuckled.

“I guess that’s better than making an enemy for life,” he offered.

“Yeah, I―” I drew up short, frowning at the griffon. “Daisy literally said the exact same thing.”

“I knew she was smart,” Gerry quipped.

“Uh huh.”

The griffon flashed me another broad smile. “Oh, you doubt her? Does that mean you’re bowing out of dinner at The Grotto tomorrow?”

I opened my mouth, but then hesitated and closed it again. I cleared my throat and hid a small blush that I could feel coloring my cheeks. I had very much not forgotten that Gerry and I would be ‘revisiting’ the issue of whether or not the two of us were going to pursue a more…intimate relationship on top of our professional one. Granted, over the last twelve months the both of us had very much already tacitly decided that we would in fact start officially dating. We’d simply decided to wait this long because the agreement to table the decision until a year had passed had felt like something of an unofficial anniversary of sorts and amused us both too much not to adhere to it.

That all being said, it still gave me butterflies to think about actually taking our friendship to a new level. I definitely wasn’t going to be back out though. I also wasn’t going to give Daisy credit for any of this. On principle. “Are you going to order the rat for me again?” I eyed the griffon, doing a deliberately poor job of hiding a smile.

“Actually, I was thinking of letting you try the penis this time,” Gerry replied with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

My jaw dropped, and I knew there was no hiding the furious blush that flushed through my cheeks. “WHAT?!” I mean, was he really just going to come right out and say it like that?!

“What? That’s how you say ‘parsnip’ in Fancy,” the griffon said, somehow managing to maintain a completely innocent-looking expression as he did so. “They have this large steamed penis drizzled with this tangy white sauce. You have to be careful putting it in your mouth though, otherwise the sauce’ll get all in your―”

There was the sound of somepony clearing their throat nearby, drawing our attention to the dark-coated pegasus mare, cradling her bass in her forehooves. Once she was sure she had our attention, she offered up, “A minor correction: it’s pronounced ‘pah-nay’.” Her eyes darted between my still quite flustered face and the very much amused griffon standing next to me, who quite obviously had been aware of his mispronunciation, judging by the board grin plastered on his beak.

It was a smile that vanished with the mare’s next words directed at me though. “But he is very much hoping that the two of you will be fucking by the end of the night.”

Gerry started choking, his eyes wide with shock as he turned to glare at the bassist. I likewise was stunned to silence as I looked between the two of them. Though seeing the griffon lose his composure as his joke at my expense was undone by the pegasus helped to clear up my own shock somewhat. Suddenly the shoe was on the other hoof―er, paw, I guess.

“H-how could you possibly have known―” Gerry was beginning to stammer, but I jumped in and cut him off.

“Well,” I chimed in, drawing the griffon’s attention back to myself, “while I’ve never had ‘parsnip’ before,” I flashed a look at the tiercel, holding his gaze as I kept careful control of my own features, “I am not opposed to…trying new things. Eventually.

“But maybe we’ll start with something a little…uh, ‘less filling’?” The griffon had the good grace to flush at my own double-entendre. “Like…” I thought for a moment before rolling my eyes and looking back at Gerry. “I don’t know any Fancy words for foods; so whatever one sounds like: ‘making out all night’.”

Gerry’s eyes widened with mild surprise. He too then appeared to think for a brief moment before looking back over at Ghost. The mare merely shrugged and turned her attention back to tuning her bass. The griffon looked back to me and smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Good. Now let’s get your mind off of ‘parsnips’ and onto the gig, hmm?” I stuck my tongue out at the tiercel and directed him towards the crowd which looked to be expectantly awaiting our first song of the evening. I received a widened grin in response, followed promptly by the griffon’s violet arcanetic talons strumming themselves across his guitar and sending a loud chord through the amplifiers. The crowd’s response was immediate as the cheering and stomping redoubled in volume.

I stepped forward and took hold of the mic with my telekinesis. “Hellloooo, Haywood~!” Around me, the rest of the band readied their instruments for my signal to begin the first song on our playlist for the evening. “Are you ready to rock?!” A wordless cheer rose up, prompting a grin to appear on my muzzle. I glanced at the griffon standing beside me and slammed my hoof down. Gerry immediately launched into the song’s opening chord progression.

The rest of the band followed suit and began to play out the song’s intro as I waited for my cue to jump in. When it finally arrived, I leaned forward and began to scream into the hovering microphone.

“In this city, of light on the sea;

“Living our lives, with our plights unseen.”

I quickly found myself lost in the energy of the crowd. A year ago, if somepony had told me that I’d be performing on a stage, singing my own music, I’d have either told them to lay off the glitterdust, or give me a hookup with their dealer so I could experience whatever fantasy land they were living in. Yet, here I was…

“It’s so easy, to feel despair;

“To convince yourself, that nocreature cares.”

Maybe it seemed a little silly to even be bothering with these performances, or the whole band altogether. After all, what was a little music going to do to change things, right? Especially when compared to the band’s…other endeavors. And I wasn’t just talking about the corporate break-ins and sabotage either. Under my leadership, I was getting us to have a more involved hoof in the community.

“Pushed to the ground, a hoof on you neck;

“Your happiness, tied to a check!”

Some of that involved a softer approach, like the soup kitchens and free clinics. But there was no shortage of ‘strong-hoofing’ going on too. With the exception of a few more small-time groups we hadn’t gotten around to clearing out yet, we’d pushed nearly all of the boosterherds out of Heywood, and were presently making moves into Trotson. There were some semantic arguments that all we were doing was muscling out other herds to make room for our own, and that wasn’t an argument that was entirely without merit.

“Pay to escape, pay to unwind;

“Paying to live; you’ll pay to die!”

The key difference was that we were ‘dealing’ in food and medicine instead of drugs and guns. I liked to think of us as more akin to a militia or security force than anything like a boosterherd. Because, I mean, if the LCPD wasn’t going to keep the ‘peace’ in Haywood, then somepony might as well. Smokey had very much approved of the notion, and had even volunteered to train up a few of our club’s bouncers so that they’d be better able to handle themselves while doing patrols of the neighborhood.

Money was going to start becoming more of an issue the larger we got though, I knew. Extorting money from the city’s sleezier executives and politicians was working for now, but that wasn’t anything I’d consider to be a ‘reliable’ source of funding. We could branch out into outright robbing corporations, I supposed; but I felt like that would bring more heat down on us. Blackmail was something that the targets wouldn’t/couldn’t turn to the LCPD for help with. Actual robberies on the other hoof…

Maybe I had something I wanted to pressure Starlight into helping us with after all. She had the connections. If she was serious about helping, then maybe she could pressure the city’s politicians in funding ‘outreach’ programs and such.

I’d look into it.

“Don’t believe the corporate machine,

“Designed only to make you bleed!”

For now though, we’d continue to focus on doing what we could. We’d curtail what corporate operations we could that were threatening the citizens of the city. We’d keep reaching out to creatures and helping who we could to keep them from falling into the grips of predatory boosterherds, like I had. We’d keep spreading the message of Twilight’s journal to the masses.

Things wouldn’t get fixed overnight. Maybe not even in another year. Might even take more than a decade or two. But, there was certainly light at the end of the tunnel. At least, I felt like there was. I’d seen the difference that we could make with just this one year, and our movement was gaining steam. More creatures were reaching out or stepping up every month.

“Don’t believe the corporate machine!”

So while it might have seemed silly to some that we were hosting these performances, I knew better. I’d seen the evidence with my own eyes, after all. We weren’t going to change things by blowing up buildings and killing creatures. That hadn’t improved conditions in the city. No. We weren’t going to ‘win’ by playing the game the way the corporations were. It was their game, which meant that they got to write the rules for it; and we’d never be able to confront them on a level playing field because of that.

We needed to confront them on different terms, using different tactics. Ones that we knew had worked once upon a time, in a more magical land than this one…

“What you need is: A FRIENDSHIP SUPREME~!”

Author's Note

And thus concludes this story; but clearly not Pel's or her friends! I'm sure we all wish them luck on their future endeavors, and while there are no follow-up stories for her and the gang in the works as of yet, I won't definitively rule out a sequel. However, as with so many other possible follow-ups, it would have to wait in line behind the works already in the pipe. And it's a looooooong pipe :P

I want to again thank everyone who came along on this little ride, and I hope you stick around for other things I write in the future! Or maybe check out things I wrote in the past? Maybe? The likes let me feel the validation I never got from my parents! :raritydespair:

If you're in the mood for more things cyberpunk, and don't already know, there's a nice collection of similarly-themed works over at Cyberpunk Equestria! Give them a look! Hey, if we garner enough interest, maybe sempai will notice us and the FiMFiction admins to give us a "Cyberpunk" tag :P They gave BattleTech one finally!

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

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Chapter 1: Light City

Now that I had the opportunity to get a good up-close look, it was pretty clear to me that this floor had not seen a properly thorough cleaning in quite some time. I’d pretty much assumed that that was the case before now, but I’d never actually taken the time to get my face right down to the grimy concrete surface of the warehouse floor to confirm the assumption. Not that bringing my face this close for a look was something I’d planned on today. Or any day. However, if I was going to be down here anyway, I might as well avail myself to the opportunity.

Yep: it was filthy.

It was almost as though the long abandoned warehouse hadn’t seen the benefit of a janitor in years. Even back when it had seen consistent legitimate use, any custodian had almost certainly only done just enough cleaning to keep themselves from being fired. Why, even if this warehouse hadn’t been abandoned, I was willing to bet good gibbies that the bloodstains I was leaving behind here tonight wouldn’t have been touched by a mop any time soon, provided they were out of sight of where a supervisor typically inspected.

There generally wasn’t a lot of motivation to keep buildings in the ‘bad’ part of Haywood looking particularly pristine. This wasn’t exactly Aeriesaka Plaza where creatures cared about appearances more than function. Far from it. As a general rule, Haywood was the sort of neighborhood where creatures seemed to go out of their way to make it dirtier; leaving behind urine, feces, garbage…

…the beaten and bloodied bodies of ponies who’d screwed up one too many times.

I pushed that last thought out of my head almost as quickly as it formed. I wasn’t dying here. Not tonight. That wasn’t the plan. Not this time, at least. Next time something like this happened though…well, it might be a concern then. In the meantime…

I spit the rest of the blood that had been pooling in my mouth from my split lip and cheek onto the warehouse floor before wiping away at the frothy spittle on my chin with the back of my hoof. The whole left side of my face was still throbbing with pain from where I’d been kicked. My tongue lightly prodded at my teeth, taking a quick survey and looking for new gaps. Everything still seemed to be accounted for and in place, which was a little surprising honestly. Though I dreaded the thought of how the bruise would look by morning. I wasn’t nearly as good at using makeup to cover things like that up. My mother hadn’t lived long enough to teach me the tricks she’d used to hide the evidence of what Grinder’s goons used to do to her.

“Thank you, sir; can I have another?” I said almost reflexively as my smart mouth started moving before my brain had a chance to properly appraise my situation. The word ‘smart’ was admittedly doing a lot of heavy lifting there. Too late to take it back though. I cobbled together the best indifferent expression I could muster as I cast my gaze up at the crimson red stallion towering over me.

It was all I could do not to visibly wince. Both because my jaw hurt when I moved it to talk, and because I knew that it wasn’t the smartest thing to further antagonize a pony who had amply demonstrated that he wasn’t above inflicting excessive amounts of pain just to make a point. Unfortunately, sarcastic retorts were something of an instinctive defense mechanism for me. It was a habit I’d picked up fairly early on after being…let’s call it: ‘inducted’ into Grinder’s boosterherd. In this part of town, it was dangerous to let others see you as being ‘weak’. Being able to talk a big game was part of how one established that you weren’t somepony to be fucked with.

The other part was being able to actually back up your tough words with tough actions. I wasn’t very good at that part yet though. Which…was an unfortunate disparity in skillsets, if I was being honest. Still, in this specific situation, it wasn’t like being demure and groveling at his hooves was going to help me either. Grinder hated creatures like that just slightly more than he hated creatures who couldn’t get shit done.

Not that it was a whole lot safer to piss off tough ponies with bodycounts attached to their reputations. As was the case with the chromed-out earth pony who was currently looming over me. ‘Grinder’ wasn’t his real name, as far as I could tell; in the sense that it wasn’t what was written on his birth certificate. It was just what everypony in Haywood called him. Allegedly he’d earned the moniker as a result of what he was reported to do to creatures who got on his bad side one too many times.

I’d never seen him actually mulch anycreature. There were enough stories from other members of the herd about it though that I wasn’t inclined to doubt he’d done it a time or two in the past. That was what made it important to be able to back up those tough words I mentioned earlier with actions: if those actions were intimidating enough, you only had to demonstrate how tough you were once or twice before others got the hint. After that, you could coast through life on words alone. I wasn’t there yet though.

The smile on the towering red earth pony’s face was anything but warm. The crystalline nodule embedded in the crone of his skull flickered with an inner light. A second later, I found myself enveloped in a telekinetic field and hoisted roughly off of the ground. Before I had time to process that I was floating, my body jerked sharply backwards. I hit the side of the metal container behind me hard enough to leave a noticeable dent. My head throbbed where my skull had bounced off the container and my vision blurred slightly. A short message flashed before my eyes advising me that I should consider a visit a ChevalCareTM Clinic and showed a prompt which offered to plot a route to the nearest one.

I didn’t get the chance to dismiss the notification before a reinforced cybernetic hoof lashed out and punched me square in my exposed gut. I let out a gasping cry of pain and was unceremoniously released from Grinder’s telekinetic grasp. Yep; the floor was definitely filthy. I curled up protectively around my belly, coughing and hacking as my spasming lungs fought for breath. I’d probably earned that one…

“You can have as many as you’d like, Pel,” The stallion offered with a deep chuckle. I could hear some of his goons sniggering too. “Heck, you don’t even need to keep showing up here empty-hoofed to get treatment like this! Come by my place and I’ll smack you around for as long as you want.”

His expression shifted suddenly. Any sign of amusement in his golden eyes vanished in an instant and was entirely replaced with burning ire. He leaned his head down so that my whole field of view was taken up by those eyes. He wanted to make sure that he had my attention, and he very much did. I felt my chest grow tight as the look he gave me filled me with a sense of genuine fear for my life. “But show up without my money―all my money―again, and mark my words: the whomping I’ll lay down on you will be your last…

“Ya feel me, bloom?”

My throat suddenly felt very dry. For once in my life, no witty retort tried to force its way out through my lips. Which probably saved my life. Or, at the very least, spared me any further beatings tonight. I swallowed, trying to chase away my acute sudden-onset case of cottonmouth so I could voice my understanding, but it was to no avail. No words were able to struggle past the fear gripping my throat. So I simply nodded to indicate my agreement, which seemed enough to satisfy the larger stallion.

“Good.” Grinder straightened back up. “You have two days. If every gryphusbit I’m owed isn’t in my hoof by then, I’m breaking you down for scrap.” He jerked his head towards the warehouse’s door as a silent command to the rest of his entourage to follow after him and headed for the exit. The rest of the assembled creatures followed along in his wake, more than a few of them sparing a contemptuous look or two in the direction of the pitiful yellow unicorn mare still laying curled up on the filthy, blood-splattered, concrete floor.

When their hoofsteps had finally faded away into silence, I gasped out a breath that I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding. My lungs were burning, but they at least seemed to be working a lot better than they had after being bucked in the gut, my breathing coming off more as ragged pants than anything else. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and hear my pulse thundering in my ears.

Fear. Anxiety. Dread. Everything that I kept bottled up and suppressed throughout my days and nights when anypony else was around was making an appearance. I curled in tighter on myself and squeezed my eyes shut as I fought to regain my composure. At least this abandoned warehouse afforded me privacy in this rare vulnerable moment.

It took a minute or two, but eventually I was able to get myself back under control and leveled out. Only then did I get back up onto my hooves. The jewel bonded at the base of my horn glowed as I summoned my own telekinesis to brush away the worst of the dirt and grime from my jacket. My face creased with concern for the state of the sleeveless leather vest that was older than I was. Given what I’d just been through, and the threat looming over my future wellbeing, it probably seemed a little silly to be so worried about a piece of clothing being dirty. However, the faded blue jacket was the most valuable possession I owned. Maybe not in terms of objective monetary value; but it was quite precious to me.

I was going to have to clean it properly, I decided after spying what looked like a stain of hydraulic fluid that I must have been lying in after Grinder’s first ‘disciplinary’ punch sent me to the ground. I’d been expecting the hit, but that hadn’t made much difference. The stallion’s limbs were more metal than meat. He punched like a pneumatic jackhammer. Almost literally. The only reason that I was even still alive was because he’d been holding back. The hits had just been a warning after all. My final warning, as it turned out.

Honestly, I’d kind of been expecting that too. This wasn’t the first time that I’d shown up with fewer gibbies than I was supposed to. I should probably count myself lucky that Grinder had given me as many chances as he had. I’d heard that there were plenty of herd leaders operating in Light City who weren’t anywhere near as accepting of failure as the earth pony had been. Maybe it was because I was as young as I was, and thus still plausibly ‘new’ enough to this kind of thing; and so an unspoken probationary period had been in effect to see if I could grow into the role I’d been assigned.

Or maybe he just wasn’t as eager to zero a young mare. Who could really say?

Whatever it was that had afforded me so much leeway up to this point though, I’d apparently just blown the last of my grace period in that regard. When I saw him again in two days, I’d either better bring his money, or a last will and testament. Not that I had any ‘next-of-kin’ to leave anything to.

…Not that I had anything to leave.

Hash Stack would get the last couple shirts hanging in my closet, I guess. She’d also have to find a new roommate too. And…that would be about all of the impact my death would have on the world: slightly increasing another pony’s wardrobe choices and necessitating a posting on the local bulletins about an available bed for rent on the cheap. And the latter was assuming that Hash didn’t already have somepony in her contacts who she knew was looking for a place.

I let out a heavy sigh and finally made my way out of the warehouse. My gait was stiff thanks to my still throbbing gut. Hopefully that would ease by morning. I paused briefly at the doorway and glanced around to make sure that one of Grinder’s goons hadn’t decided to hang back with the intention of further ‘motivating’ me to get right with the herd’s leader. Fortunately, the coast seemed to be clear; so I began making my way home.

The illusionary clock hovering in the upper right corner of my vision indicated that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. You’d hardly have been able to tell that it was so late by how bright it was. Even this far from downtown, the glow from Light City made it feel like early morning at all hours of the night. The ‘Jewel of Equus’ was a city that never slept after all, and it showed. During the daylight hours, the metropolis’ more upstanding citizenry went about their lives, working the nine-to-five grind. When night fell and those creatures retired to their homes for the day, that was when the less reputable denizens, like myself, crawled out of their hovels and prowled the streets to make their own living on the fringe of society.

Which wasn’t to say that there weren’t creatures who led ‘proper’ lives at night. There were a few. I just wasn’t one of them, and my meager social circle didn’t include any either. Everycreature I knew had their hooves and/or talons into something that the LCPD would take exception to if they found out about it. This included myself. Extorting my neighbors for protection money on Grinder’s behalf was technically quite illegal, after all.

Not that I’d been very good at doing that. Hence the throbbing jaw and aching gut.

…And the looming threat against my life; can’t forget about that!

The familiar jingle of a clairaudience spell sounded in my ear, accompanied by the alert of an incoming call in the corner of my vision. A smile tugged at the edge of my lips when I saw that it was Hash Stack on the other end of the spell. The little pegasus knew perfectly well where I’d been going tonight, and what the purpose had been. She’d also known that my meeting wasn’t going to go as smoothly as it could have. She was probably checking to see if she got a response at all, or if she would need to post about that new vacancy Grinder was soon going to be opening up for her.

I accepted the call. “Hey, Hash.”

“Holy shit; you’re alive!” The mare’s squeaky voice exclaimed with no small amount of shock.

“Your lack of faith in me hurts, bloomba,” I forced a smile onto my face as I affected a bravado that I didn’t feel. Unlike with boosterherds, this time it wasn’t because I thought that the other mare would take advantage of any perceived weakness. This was just a matter of personal pride. I didn’t want my roommate to see what kind of loser she’d allowed into her apartment. “Grinder just wanted to talk a little, that’s all.” I absently rubbed the side of my jaw where the stallion had clobbered me. “I convinced him to give me an extension.”

“Oh, really? That’s great!” The mare on the other end of the line actually managed to sound like she was relieved to hear the news. I’d found that she was pretty good at acting like she cared about me. “How long did he give you?”

“Two days,” I admitted, going on to add with more feigned optimism, “which is more time than I need; but that’ll just mean I’ll have a chance to relax and take it easy before getting to work.” The spoken lies came almost as easily as the tonal ones. It was a good thing that this was happening over comms though. The smile on my lips notwithstanding, I could still feel the actual worry and fear that existed just beneath the thin patina of confidence, threatening to finally burst forth from my eyes in the form of tears. Even now they were burning as I fought to keep everything bottled up.

“Two days? You’ll really have the money by then?” Hash asked skeptically.

“I’ve got feelers out with Spyder,” I lied even as my gaze darted to the log of increasingly desperate-sounding messages that I’d sent to the fixer over the last couple of days. The zebra hadn’t responded to the last few, leaving them on ‘read’. An automated reply had greeted my last attempt to contact him; informing me that I’d been blocked from sending any additional messages to him. Not that I blamed him really. Any worthwhile fixer wouldn’t want anything to do with a mare who couldn’t get the job done. And I’d accumulated quite the list of spectacular failures with him.

One had to wonder if blowing my last chances with creatures wasn’t my special talent. I was apparently exceptionally well suited to doing it.

I reinforced my smile, having felt my lips wavering for a moment. I wasn’t going to break while I still had Hash on the line though. I refused to let anypony see me broken. “I’ve got the situation handled.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Oh. Well, I’m glad to hear it! I know you don’t need it, but if there’s anything I can do to help feel free to as―”

“A hookup with any fixers you know would be nice,” I blurted before I could stop myself. The moment the words were out of my mouth, I smacked myself with my hoof and winced.

“...What?”

I took a breath and reaffirmed the insincere smile I’d been trying to keep on my lips in the hopes that its presence would help to make me sound as nonchalant about the whole affair as I wanted Hash to believe that I was feeling. “I just mean that a mare can never have too many fixers, right? It’s nice to have options. I know you have connections. Figured you might be able to hook me up with a fixer that would do right by me―not that Spyder’s stiffing me, of course. I just figured I’d see what other offers there were out there.

“For down the road, I mean,” I added. “Obviously I’m good for right now.”

Even as that last lie left my lips, I silently swore; wordlessly berating myself for metaphorically shooting myself in the hoof like this. Spyder would even entertain receiving my calls, let alone line up paying work for me. I desperately needed a new fixer, and now. However, it seemed that, in spite of the fact that my life literally depended on getting Hash’s help, I somehow still couldn’t bring myself to let her know how much I needed it. Without my roommate’s assistance, I wasn’t exactly left with a lot of options for getting my hooves on Grinder’s money.

The smart move, of course, would have been to grow a damn spine and do the work that the crimson stallion had originally asked of me. The money that he was asking for was exactly where it had always been: in the hooves of the creatures who lived on my assigned floors of the megasilo. It was just waiting for me to go and collect it and hoof it over to him. Hypothetically, if I started right now, I could have everything I owed him by tonight.

It was hard though, knocking on those doors and looking into all of those apartments that were even more bare than Hash’s. Seeing the nutribar wrappers that had been licked clean of every crumb because there weren't enough of them to go around to properly feed the family that lived there. Those ponies were barely scraping together the scratch to pay for their shithole of an apartment as it was. They couldn’t afford Grinder’s ‘security fees’. Not if they wanted to eat at all that month.

That wasn’t my problem though. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be. My job was to collect the gibbies from the ponies living on my assigned floors and deliver them to Grinder. If the ponies in question didn’t have enough cash to cover what was due, then I was supposed to take payment in goods…or even crystal and chrome if it came to it. I was one of the herd leader’s ‘Tax Collectors’. In theory anyway.

In practice, I was failing at it pretty hard. I certainly wasn’t cut out to be the cold-hearted bitch that a job like that required me to be. Which was a pity, because I hadn’t been cut out to be much else either. I didn’t have the connections necessary to be any kind of useful liaison with the LCPD to keep them off our back. Nor was I tough―or chromed up―enough to be one of his Enforcers. What few augs I did have were nothing to brag about, and they were only even nominally ‘mine’. Grinder had paid to have them installed when I’d been ‘inducted’ into his boosterherd at the tender age of sixteen. Now it was two years later and somehow I was still well in the red with the earth pony. It didn’t help that I was being charged interest on the ‘debt’ that I owed him for the augs he’d had grafted into me.

“Right. Of course.” Hash agreed quietly. I heard the doubt that lay just beneath her words though. It was the same undertone that I’d heard in my own assurances just a few seconds ago. At some point during the conversation, she’d become aware of my lies but was refraining from acknowledging them. I wasn’t sure if I felt the other mare was being kind or patronizing by declining to call me out on my bullshit. There was a pause, then, “I’ve, uh, gotta make some calls. See you soon, bloomba; stay safe.” The call went silent.

I let out a mirthless snort, the ‘smile’ finally falling off of my face completely. I found myself idly wondering if at least one of those calls wasn’t going to be the mare sniffing around for a new roommate. Not that I could really blame her if that was the case. It wasn’t like I’d come up with my share of the rent for this month yet. I’m pretty sure I’d also been a little light on last month’s too, but Hash had assured me that I’d been square the last time I tried to give her a few gibbies for it. Something about the rent on the apartment going down and so my share had shrunk accordingly. Which had to have been one of the worst lies ever conceived of, because rent never went down in Light City.

My gaze rose slowly as I continued my meandering trudge down the street. Ahead of me lay the vibrant light display that was downtown. I’d been there once as a filly. Sort of. I’d taken a train that went near it on the way to a borough on the far side. I remember my eyes growing so wide that there’d probably been a legitimate danger of them falling right out of my head. I’d never seen such beautiful and shiny buildings before. Their surfaces had shown like polished gemstones. Their contours had been fluid and graceful. It was like they had been designed as pieces of massive installation art which had only been later repurposed as buildings that creatures lived and worked in. Nothing like the dingy gray concrete boxes of cramped apartments that I’d lived in my whole life.

Looking at it though, even from down here, it was easy to see why so many creatures on Equus held Light City in such high regard: It was the definition of grace and splendor, with buildings fit for an alicorn.

Not that any of them lived there. Not anymore. Supposedly Princess Starlight Glimmer had once resided in the tower which now played host to GlimTech’s corporate headquarters. I wasn’t sure how much of that was fact and how much was just PR bluster to puff themselves up and seem more important than their competitors. To me it rang about as hollow as Aeriesaka’s own boasting about how they were tightly connected with the neighboring griffon nation’s recently restored royal family. To my knowledge, the king of Gryphus had never made an appearance anywhere in Light City since coming to power.

In that same vein, I hadn’t heard the news mention any of Equestria’s princesses swinging by anytime in the last few decades either. Everycreature was pretty sure they’d all washed their hooves of this ‘Grand Experiment’ of theirs. I let off another snort. If the city’s own cream of the crop weren’t worth even a cursory visit from the alicorns who set it all up, then where did that rank me on the societal ladder?

I was just a couple blocks away from the building where I lived when I came to a stop. My gaze darted over to the flashing neon sign hovering above my head. ‘The Trough’. I frowned. I really didn’t have the spare gibbies to justify a drink; not with the deadline I had hanging over my head. On the other hoof, it wasn’t like the price of a drink or two was going to affect whether or not I managed to get Grinder the full amount I owed in the end. I headed inside.

Despite being lit, the atmosphere of the bar’s interior was a lot dimmer than the city exterior was in the dead of night. That was part of the aesthetic though: brooding, quiet, and soothing. Not always my scene, to be honest. Most times I needed a real club with throbbing music, bright flashing lights, and a sea of warm bodies thrashing about to help get my mind off my troubles. A slew of distractions that would let me forget about everything that sucked in my life until the inevitable hangover the next morning. I was too depressed for loud music and dancing right now though. I just wanted a drink and to be alone with my thoughts. Like most evenings when it was the time of the month I was supposed to be collecting dues.

The griffon tiercel behind the bar noted my entrance. His beak broke out into a warm smile and he stopped wiping down the glass he’d been cleaning long enough to give me a friendly wave. “Hey, Pel. The usual?”

I sat my rump down far heavier on the stool than I’d meant to, all of the tension that I’d been carrying from my earlier meeting with Grinder finally leaving my body and allowing the fatigue that it had been holding back to wash over me all at once. I shook my head. “Not tonight, Gare. Strongest stuff you got. A double.”

The griffon’s azure eyes widened briefly in surprise at the request, which was a far cry from my usual White Stalliongrad or Shetland Slammer. He turned to grab a bottle of whiskey, but hesitated as he did a double-take, apparently having finally noticed my split lip and no-doubt swelling eye from where Grinder had clobbered me. “Shit, girl; you alright?”

I sank lower in my seat, turning my head away from the bartender. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” I assured him, trying to use the high collar of my jacket to help hide my injuries from his sight. A futile effort, obviously; but Gary was kind enough to take the hint and stop staring at them. I could tell that he wanted to press me for details though. That spurred some feelings of annoyance deep within me. I’d seen the way the griffon acted with other patrons in his bar when they made it clear that they didn’t want to discuss their personal lives. He never looked at them like he was looking at me now: with pity. Letting me know how pathetic he thought I was. Like I was some useless filly that needed to be coddled.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t want to think about that now. This was about forgetting. Forgetting Grinder. Forgetting the deadline. Forgetting why I was in this mess in the first place. Drinking and forgetting. That was why I was here.

A glass was wordlessly deposited in front of me. A second later it was filled with a generous helping of dark brown fluid whose aroma stung my nostrils. I wasn’t a fan of straight liquor. It smelled pungent and burned my throat. That was why I preferred mixed drinks most nights. Not tonight though. Tonight I wanted to hurt inside as much as I did outside. Stupid drink decisions to provide fitting company for my stupid life decisions.

The jewel at the base of my horn glowed as I pulled a wad of very heavily crumpled up bills from the pocket of my vest. I suppressed a grimace as I glimpsed the collection of low denominations. With a sigh, I placed the whole wad on the counter and gave it a gentle shove with my magic towards the griffon.

Gary glanced down at the offered payment. I kept my eyes locked onto the glass in front of me, not trusting myself to look in his direction. Even though those bills represented every gibby I had left to my name, what I’d put on the counter wasn’t quite enough to cover even this one drink. I knew that. So I didn’t dare touch it in case the bartender―very rightfully―took it back and told me to leave. A customer that could afford to pay for even a couple ounces of alcohol had no business taking up a seat in a bar; even if it was obvious that this wasn’t a very busy time of night.

“It’s on the house tonight, Pel.” The tiercel finally said in a quiet voice. “Customer loyalty discount―” He’d started to push the crumpled up bills back in my direction with one of his talons when I suddenly slammed a hoof on the counter, pinning the gibbies down where they were. Gary recoiled with a jerk, staring at me with startled eyes.

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t trust myself to maintain my composure if I did. ‘Customer loyalty discount’. What a load of minotaur droppings. I wasn’t a damn charity case! I wasn’t completely worthless. I might not be able to come up with what I owed Grinder; but I could pay for a fucking drink at a dive bar, damn it!

“Take. The money. Gary.” I said through gritted teeth, inwardly wincing as I heard the faint quavering in my voice. I was on the edge of breaking down and I knew it.

For a brief moment, I thought that the griffon was going to fight me on this. He looked like he wanted to insist on comping my drink, but then thought better of it. He finally nodded and pulled the gryphusbits back towards himself. “Yeah. Okay.” He paused for a moment, glanced at the bottle of liquor that he was still holding in his other talon, and then set it down next to my glass. “Finish off the bottle if you want. Not enough for another drink anyway.”

This was a lie too. There was at least another three shots worth of whiskey still sloshing around in it from what I could tell. I was about to levitate the bottle away and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, but…I let out a rough sigh. Damn me if I didn’t need the alcohol tonight.

Instead, I used my magic to pick up my glass and throw its contents back down my throat. The cut on the inside of my cheek stung where the alcohol made contact before I swallowed the double helping of whiskey. It burned all the way down my throat, but the warmth flooding my body was a welcome sensation. I let out a shuddering breath, bowing my head and holding it in my hooves. My eyes were squeezed shut.

I was so fucked…

Two days to come up with fifteen thousand gibbies? And I’d just zeroed out my entire remaining balance on a glass of booze I couldn’t even afford? I wasn’t going to be able to pull it off. I was going to show back up at the warehouse in two days, empty hoofed, and Grinder was going to flatline me and strip me down for parts. The worst part was that I couldn’t even run away because I had literally nothing. I was going to have to find something left in my closet to hock just to afford to eat tomorrow as it was!

…Or I could mare up and do my fucking job, I thought acidly. Pound on doors and shake ponies down like I was supposed to have done in the first place. Grinder was just going to send one of the others to do it anyway after he zeroed me the night after next. And whoever took my place was unlikely to be anywhere near as accommodating as I’d been. A lot of creatures were going to be hurting by this time next week when the earth pony’s new ‘tax mare’ started making the rounds.

So why shouldn’t I just get on with it myself? Who exactly was I helping by holding back like I was? Certainly not myself.

It was just…

…I knew what it was like to be on the other side of that door when one of Grinder’s goons came knocking. I knew the look in a mother’s eyes when they had to tell their foals that there wasn’t going to be any dinner that night because they needed to save the gibbies for when that knock came. I’d seen that heartbreak in my mother too many times growing up. The shame she felt. The beatings she took when the shame became too much to bear and she fed me instead of paying the protection money. Some nights, I could still hear how she’d pleaded when they took her and my father’s wedding bangles to make up the difference.

Her cries of pain when Grinder’s thugs got tired of hearing those pleas and beat her unconscious.

…The sounds of the hooves landing against her body the night she never got up again.

Could I really bring myself to do that to other creatures? Even if my very life depended on it? Could I be responsible for planting this kind of hurt in another young filly’s heart?

I knew what the answer was, of course. No matter how much I tried to argue with myself and rationalize things, I kept coming back to the same conclusion. If I was capable of changing my mind―if I could turn myself into that kind of mare―I’d have done so long before my situation had gotten this dire.

Somehow, knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

When I got back to the apartment, Hash Stack wasn’t anywhere to be found. She was probably out working. That mare kept odd hours, I’d learned. I wasn’t entirely sure what she did to support herself, but it wasn’t anything like a steady job. She was at the apartment far too often for that. She didn’t talk about the specifics much, but I’d gleaned that it was some sort of gig setup, where she performed one-off jobs for creatures. Not anything that involved fixers like the kind I sometimes did work for though, not that I knew of. She seemed to travel in similar circles though, which is why I’d asked her over the call about references.

She probably did short-term contract work. Something techy. She was a real wiz with computers. She’d updated the matrices for my shards on more than one occasion, and neither I―nor my implanted talismans―could tell her pirate patch-jobs from the legitimate manufacturer updates. Which was great, because I couldn’t afford the licensed patches that got sporadically released.

On more than one occasion, I wondered what a brilliant mare like her was doing slumming around down here in the flank-end of Haywood with the rest of us donks. Her past wasn't any of my business, of course. Plenty of creatures had reasons for the less-than-nova lives that they were leading. It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that Hash was a former corporate drone who’d pissed off the wrong executive and got her credentials revoked, keeping her from ever working a legit white collar job again. It was a real shame if that was the case though. That mare was the kindest creature that I’d ever met in Light City.

Hash didn’t deserve to live out the rest of her life in a gutter like this. She wasn’t like me.

I glanced around the sparse amenities of the apartment. Of what little was here, pretty much everything belonged to Hash. Everything I had a personal claim to was either hanging in my barren half of the closet or rattling around in the drawer beneath my mattress. I stopped by the former and carefully stripped off my vest. My eyes traced over the powder blue sleeveless leather jacket, inspecting it for any damage that it might have suffered during my previous ‘discussion’ with Grinder. I used my telekinesis to buff out a couple of dirt smudges that I’d missed earlier. It didn’t look too bad otherwise, aside from the new hydraulic stain that I’d need to find a way to clean.

My eyes lingered very briefly on the patch sewn into the back of the vest, depicting a white-winged yellow thunderbolt. The blurry image of a stallion’s golden face passed through my head. It was an early memory, maybe even my earliest. It was also the only one I had of him. I sighed and hung up the jacket. My next stop was the washroom to get myself cleaned up.

I finally got my first real look at the damage that Grinder had done. The split lip I’d already figured out. The bruising on my cheek and swelling eye I’d been anticipating. The scrape on my chin was news to me though. Must have been from when I’d hit the floor. I sat down and glanced at where I’d been bucked in my stomach. Some bruising was visible just beneath the yellow fur there too. Awesome.

My eyes darted to my mane now. I used my telekinesis to smooth out some wisps of hair that had been mussed while I’d been rolling on the floor. A frown creased my lips as I bent in closer to the mirror and took note of the chromatic roots of my mane which had become significantly more blatant than I remembered them being the last time I’d taken stock. I was clearly in need of a touch-up with more bleaching agent. Not that I had the gibbies for any. No help for it then, I lamented.

I took a quick shower to wash the dried blood out of my coat, along with the grime I’d picked up from the warehouse floor. I’d never been more grateful that Hash hadn’t insisted on individualizing the utilities in the apartment. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to afford the water for the shower tonight. My magic snagged a towel and began to vigorously rub at my coat as I made my way out of the washroom. I only padded my mane and tail though, as though drying them too roughly might further expedite revealing their true colors. I was pretty sure that wasn’t how bleaching them worked, but I still didn’t want to take the chance. It was hard enough being taken seriously as it was without the childishly colorful coiffure complicating things. Creatures expected a brightly-colored mare to be bright and cheerful and nice; and I didn’t want to be thought of as any of those things when I was trying to appear like a tough member of a boosterherd.

It was at about this moment that my stomach growled. I closed my eyes and sighed. I hadn’t eaten since waking up that morning. Given that it was closing in on three AM currently, that had been the better part of twenty-four hours ago. Not that I had any money left to slip into the apartment’s vendor for a meal. I’d had to drink some of the water from the showerhead to quench my thirst because I knew I couldn’t afford a bottle from the machine either.

I’d have to wait until later in the morning. Maybe I could find somepony willing to give me a couple of gibbies for my last shirt. Enough for a nutribar from a vending machine at least.

I wandered over to my sleeping nook on the side of the room. My gaze darted briefly to the nook above, where Hash Stack slept. Freshly laundered sheets and a brilliantly white comforter covered her mattress. Screens had been installed along the sides and top of the sleeping berth which played seemingly endless vistas of skyscapes and starry nights deepening on the time. She once told me that pegasi weren’t comfortable sleeping low to the ground like this, and got antsy if they weren’t “outside on a cloud” for long periods. This setup helped.

Meanwhile, my berth was sterile; bereft of any images or photos, let alone screens. I didn’t even have any sheets on my mattress anymore. I sold them off a week ago to afford food. Hash had offered to give me some of hers, but I’d refused.

I didn’t crawl into my bed so much as I collapsed onto it, my eyes staring blankly ahead at the empty wall. I was beyond exhausted, and yet I couldn’t find sleep. My thoughts continued to circle back around to Grinder’s ultimatum, and the futility of hoping to avoid my fate. Was there even a point in selling my last shirt for a nutribar? What did it really matter if I ate today? I’d just end up dying feeling slightly less hungry. One of those tasteless, vitamin-packed, calorie bricks wouldn’t exactly make for a particularly thrilling last meal either.

How sad was that? I couldn’t even find a way to die that wasn’t pathetic…

I closed my eyes and curled up into a tight ball on the mattress. Putting pressure on my gut at least took the edge off of the worst of the hunger pangs. Mostly. No sleep found me, but at least it sort of felt like I was being held by somepony. A tear burned just behind my firmly-shut eyelids.

I jerked as I heard the door open. An exhausted, nutrient-deprived, part of my brain elected to conclude that it was Grinder entering, having come to finish me off earlier than threatened. It was only a second later that my thoughts reached the more rational conclusion that, since there hadn’t been a door chime preceding the opening, it could realistically only have been my roommate returning. However, it was a realization that came too late to do my spiked heart rate much good.

I raised my head and turned to watch the lithe pegasus mare I roomed with flutter into the apartment. She immediately scanned her surroundings until she spotted me in my berth. A flurry of emotions swiftly flew across her delicate ivory features, her pink eyes wide with worry and concern.

“Pel! Oh princesses; look at you!” She alit at the side of my bed, the gemstones encrusting the leading edges of her wings fading as she wordlessly discontinued the flight spell she’d floated in on. She craned her head to get a better look at my own injured face. A wing absently brushed aside a swath of her electric blue mane that was obstructing her vision. Her other wingtip instinctively reached for my chin, but drew up short when she saw me recoil away. The reaction had been reflexive. A lifetime of experience had taught me that ponies only wanted to get at your face so that they could hit it. Deep down, I knew that Hash wouldn’t hurt me like that though. However, she was an exception to the rule. The pegasus chewed at her lip, but made no further move to try and inspect my injuries.

Her eyes hardened now. “That bastard went too far this time,” she hissed, her lips curling into a sneer.

I let out a mirthless snort. If Hash thought that me getting a little roughed up like this was Grinder ‘taking things too far’, I wondered what she was going to have to say about him when he had me rent limb from limb at the end of the week? “It’s nothing,” I insisted. I even almost believed it this time.

“It’s not ‘nothing’!” The other mare countered, her wing pinions bristling with barely contained outrage. “He didn’t need to do that to you. What exactly does beating you up accomplish, huh?! What, did the gibbies he was after leak out of that split lip of yours?” She clicked her tongue in frustration. “He was just hurting you because he likes hurting ponies. It’s sick.”

Hash really was too precious for this world, I thought to myself. She’d probably actually miss me when I was gone…

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” The flier shook her head and changed topics. When she spoke again, her expression was more hopeful. “I have a job happening tomorrow―actually, I suppose it’s technically later today, now that I look at the time―and I need you along for it. You in? It pays good.”

My ears perked up even as my head canted in confusion. Hash needed me to help with one of her jobs? Since when? I didn’t have anything close to approaching a marketable skill set when it came to the pegasus’ usual line of work. Heck, I barely even had any of the skills that Grinder was interested in for his gang! Shaking down the ponies in this building for protection money was basically the stallion giving me one last chance to prove that I was capable of doing anything that helped his crew. I wasn’t particularly good at fighting or accessing computers, which left me just this side of useless for a lot of tasks.

I was sure that I didn’t have what it took to be of use to Hash. “You want me to help you?” I just about laughed at the absurdity of it all. “How exactly? I barely understand any of what you do. I’m sure I’d just slow you down more than anything.”

“I…” The pegasus stammered, chewing on her lip again as she sought out how she wanted to phrase her argument for having me along. It didn’t help her case―or my self-esteem―that it felt like she was having to struggle really hard to justify including me in whatever it was she was going to be doing. “Look, it’s just not something that one mare can do, okay? I need two sets of hooves, and I only have one. It's as simple as that. So I’m subcontracting you, okay? I need a pony I can trust, and I trust you more than anypony.” She insisted.

I was still skeptical about exactly how much of an asset I could prove to be to the mare, but if Hash really needed my help with something, I supposed that it was the least that I could do. Especially if she was paying me for the effort. Maybe I could use the money to hold Grinder off for a few more days until I could come up with the rest of what I owed him. “Okay then; sure thing, Hash. I’ll help. What’s the pay, anyway?”

“How deep are you in with Grinder?”

“I need fifteen thou by the day after tomorrow,” I answered, doing my best not to say the number without sounding like it was the unachievable sum that it was. Like I routinely handled five-figure transactions on a daily basis. I was fairly sure I’d pulled it off too.

“Your cut’s twenty-kay,” Hash said almost immediately.

My jaw just about hit the floor. As in, I was legitimately afraid that my mouth would actually detach itself from its mounting and fall off my face; that was how fast it dropped. Twenty Thousand gibbies?! To help the pegasus out with a one-night job? Was she serious? No. This was a dream. That was the only reasonable explanation. I’d fallen asleep, and now I was dreaming about a way out of my predicament. None of this was real.

I reached up and smacked myself hard across the face.

Ow.

Okay, this probably wasn’t a dream after all. Though, that did beg the question: “What do you need me for that’s worth that kind of scratch?!” Then I had a follow-up thought. “And if that’s my cut, what the fuck are you getting paid?!” That probably wasn’t the most polite inquiry, and I’d never made it my business before to question what kind of work the pegasus did or the compensation she typically received. It just wasn’t my business. However, I’d never in my wildest dreams considered that Hash could be earning gibbies anywhere close to the scale that was being suggested here. If twenty thousand represented the little cut that I was entitled to for my part in this, then Hash had to be collecting something in the six figure range from whoever had commissioned her.

If this was reflective of the typical jobs she’d been doing up until now, then what the fuck was she doing living in this shithole with me? Why’d she even need a roommate for that matter? ‘Disgraced corpo drone’ or not, Hash should be absolutely living it up in a plush penthouse somewhere if she was capable of coming across jobs like this even just a couple times a year!

Hash’s lips cocked in a wry smile. “Enough,” was her simple reply to my second question it seemed. “As for what you’ll be doing: I need a pony watching my back while I do some nettrotting. It’s going to be some more intense stuff than I usually get into, so I won’t be able to keep track of my body’s physical surroundings the way I usually can. I need a pony I can trust ‘minding my meat’ while I’m out.”

“And foalsitting your body for an hour is worth twenty thousand gryphusbits?” I asked skeptically. Either Hash was having me on, or Spyder had been grossly underpaying me for the few gigs I managed to actually get right.

“Are you saying that my body isn’t worth at least twenty kay?” The pegasus mare countered, pouting at me and feigning being disappointed with my valuation of her. “That hurts, Pel. Right in here.” She tapped her hoof to her chest over her heart. Her smile returned. “It’s my subcontract. I get to decide what I think the job is worth, and I think keeping me safe for an hour is worth twenty thousand gibbies.

“You want the gig or not?”

“Of course I want it!” I blurted almost immediately. Then I mentally winced at how desperate-sounding I’d likely come off. While I knew that hardly anypony would have hesitated agreeing to a simple-sounding job like this one, especially with such a massive payday being dangled in front of them, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the details of my specific situation were causing me to cast aside my better judgment. Whatever Hash Stack might insist otherwise, one of the first things that anypony in Light City learned was that there was no such thing as a ‘free lunch’. High pay came with high risk. If there were no obvious risks, then that meant that there were some pretty serious strings attached.

For a corpo drone that was chained to their terminal five days a week, that might mean that those six-figure salaries with added Health Harras coverage came with intrusive spell matrices in their implants that monitored everything they saw and did for any sign of deception or impropriety. They gave up just about any semblance of privacy or autonomy for a comfortable life. That was the trade off for ponies living high in those crystal towers downtown though. Here in the gutters, the stakes were often much higher. If you wanted to earn life-changing quantities of scratch, that typically meant putting your life on the line more often than not.

Not too different from the way members of MaxTack earned their benefits and pay: by charging into the heart of extreme danger when some gem-encrusted and chromed-out psycho went on a rampage in the city.

If Hash was ‘subcontracting’, then that presumably meant that she was paying me out of her cut of whatever she was getting from her direct employer. I couldn’t imagine that the pegasus was giving me the manticore’s share of her earnings either. So, if she was willing to split off twenty thousand gryphusbits for me, then she was getting more than double that amount―at least fifty thousand. For one job. One that, according to her, would take an hour or less of her own time.

Nettrotting was an in-demand skill, sure; and one that often entitled ponies to preem pay. Especially if they were preem trotters―of which I knew Hash was one. However, even I knew that this was all sounding way too excessive for anything that would be objectively safe, simple…or legal. Not that I was averse to a little petty crime. Not that paydays like this were associated with ‘petty’ criminal activity. This was sounding to me like the sort of thing that would get NetWatch brought down on us.

What was Hash getting herself into? What was she getting me into?

What was I still doing even debating this? Whatever the risks of going with Hash might be, they had to be considerably lower than what I was risking by not paying Grinder what I owed him!

“Great!” The tiny white flier beamed at me with a wide grin. “I still need to set up a few things for the op. I’ll meet you at Seventeenth Street and Garland? Eight o’clock tonight?”

“Yeah. Eight at Seventeen and Garland. I’ll be there,” I acknowledged, feeling giddy, and a little numb. This still felt more than a little surreal. All of my problems were really going to be solved tonight with an hour-long gig? Well, maybe not all of them. Paying Grinder the protection money I was supposed to have gotten for him didn’t even begin to touch on the debt that I still owed to the earth pony for my implants. I was in a lot deeper to the gang leader than a few thou for those after all of the accumulated interest that was padding my debt. So I was still going to be doing his bidding for a long while yet. A few decades at the rate I was paying him back, last time I did the math.

Still, this was going to be a huge help.

“Preem! See you then, bloomba!” Hash turned and spread her wings. The jewels embedded in them glowed to life and she hopped into the air, gliding back towards the apartment’s exit before drawing up just short of the door. She glanced back at me for one furtive second and then cleared her throat very loudly. Loudly enough that I―almost―missed the sound of the apartment’s vendor dispensing something. “Oh! I, um…left some leftovers in the vendor,” she said, jabbing a hoof in the direction of the food dispenser built into the wall. “I wasn’t as hungry as I thought, so there’s an extra Nutri-Graze bar there. Eyes were bigger than my stomach again, heh,” the flier offered an anemic little laugh. “It’s yours if you want it…”

She let the offer hang in the air between us for a few seconds before finally flitting out the door, letting it seal behind her. I stared at the closed door for a good while after the pegasus was gone, my brain still trying to wrap itself around what had just transpired. I’d barely even paid any attention to her mention of the available leftovers. When I finally got around to acknowledging it, I was a little surprised to find that I wasn’t feeling my usual mixture of shame and incredulity at the blatant charity. Not that this was anything new with her.

Hash always seemed to manage to ‘accidentally’ order a second meal bar from the apartment’s vendor, or suddenly not feel hungry anymore. Multiple times per week there’d always be some excuse as to why her dinner should become mine. I usually wasn’t shy about rebuking her―depending on how many days it had been since I’d last eaten―for the same reason that I’d snapped at Gary earlier that night when he’d tried to comp my drink: I wasn’t a charity case. If I couldn’t support myself somehow, that was my problem, not somepony else’s. I wasn’t going to weigh down others with my failings. Other ponies didn’t have to put themselves out for my sake. I’d spent my foalhood being a burden to those I cared about; like my mother.

I wasn’t going to be that for anypony else.
On the other hoof, I couldn’t deny how good it felt right now to have been offered a lifeline by my roommate in the form of that job. I was also really hungry…

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Chapter 6: Rockerfilly

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that your face would get stuck that way if you made those kinds of faces for too long?”

I froze mid-grimace. My eyes darted away from my expression in the mirror, glancing past my reflection and out the washroom door into the common area that lay beyond. I’d very much forgotten that the gold and ivory griffon tiercel, Gerry, was currently reclined on one of the lounges there, idly progressing through the chords of what I presumed was one of the band’s new songs. It could have been an older song though. I wasn’t very familiar with their music.

Significantly more self-conscious than I had been a second ago, my mouth clamped shut with an audible click. My ear flicked and I repeated the movement. I did so several more times in quick succession. I could swear that I was hearing a clicking sound coming from somewhere inside my jaw that wasn’t simply my new teeth meeting each other. I craned my neck and slowly opened my mouth as far as I could, paying close attention to how the movement of my newly-acquired composite jawbone felt as its joint pivoted in the socket which was fused to the rest of my skull. For the most part, the motion seemed to be pretty smooth. However, I was convinced that when it got to a certain point, and if my chin was canted just slightly to the right so that it offset―

“So that’s a ‘no’ on the face-sticking thing then?”

That clicking sound was probably just my new dental implants smacking together when my mouth slammed shut really fast, I decided. I flushed with mild embarrassment and turned away from the mirror with the intention of finally leaving the washroom, but caught myself up short before I was completely out the door. I stared at myself in the mirror, my eyes narrowing slightly as I focused on my shoulder, and then darted to my flank. My gaze bounced between the two locations several more times. I reached back and lifted the side of my now blood-free vest that somepony―I assumed Daisy―had been kind enough to clean for me. My eyes slowly traced their way from one end of my barrel to the other. I let the vest fall back into place…then lifted it again.

The sound of a door opening in the lounge barely registered with me, as did the sound of a feminine voice wafting across the air. “How’s our newest groupie?” I was pretty sure that was Harriet.

“I think she finally hit puberty,” Gerry quipped, an audible smile in his voice. “Judging by how thoroughly she’s been ‘exploring herself’ in there for the last hour…”

The embarrassment I felt was no longer merely ‘mild’ as I slinked out of the washroom. I did my best to glare at the pair of feathered fliers, noting the shared grins that each of them were wearing as they watched me. “I don’t think that doctor matched the shade of my coat quite right,” I mumbled defensively.

“You look fine,” the hippogriff mare insisted, issuing a dismissive flick of her talons. “Shade’s an old hat at that stuff; she did all mine and Barkly’s arcanetics.”

I found myself ultimately nodding in agreement with the blue and green nettrotter. She was probably right. That didn’t stop me from being far more self-conscious about my movements though. Not until I got used to them, at least. I’d gone through the same period of adjustment when my forelimbs had been replaced. Within a week of the procedure, I’d mostly forgotten that my legs were arcanetic augmentations. It would likely be the same with my face and hindquarters this time too.

A grimace worked its way across my lips as I thought over the last couple of days in my head. After leaving Grinder’s warehouse, I’d fully expected the group to drop me off at a clinic somewhere and wash their hooves of me, leaving me at the mercy of the staff and whatever bill for my treatment they ultimately pinned me with. I’d certainly never have predicted that the band would take me to a ripperdoc for treatment.

When confronted with the prospect of dealing with serious injuries―like, say: a broken jaw and a shattered hip―there were two options available for treatment: ‘cheap’ and slow, or expensive and fast. The former involved more ‘traditional’ medical treatment methods: surgery, casts, and weeks of convalescence and physical therapy. In my case, I’d likely have been mostly bedridden for a month with my jaw wired shut drinking protein shakes through a straw.

Alternatively, there was the option of just giving up on trying to get my organic bits to mend together into their original configuration and instead elect to swap them out for artificial replacements. The ‘bounce back’ time under those conditions was dramatically lessened. A decent ripperdoc would have you back on your feet and walking around before dinnertime. Provided there weren’t any complications. Of course, that sort of treatment tended to cost a lot more. Like, a lot lot more, because the surgeries were far more involved and the cost of the replacement parts had to be factored in. To say nothing of the long term costs associated with the alchemical inhibitors that needed to be taken for the rest of the patient’s life.

I was doing my best to try not to think about how long I was going to be beholden to Jenny and her group to work off my medical debt. It was easily going to be decades longer than I’d have been under Grinder’s hoof. At least they seemed nicer about the leverage they had over me.

For now.

I made my way over to one of the unoccupied chaise lounges and crawled up on it, trying not to eye the pair of musicians too warily. They weren’t even paying attention to me anymore, and were instead involved in a discussion that I assumed had to do with the song Gerry had been playing. The word ‘harmony’ was being tossed around a good bit anyway. It went way above my head, that was for sure. All I knew about music was what I liked to listen to, and absolutely nothing about how it was made.

Because I didn’t want to be caught simply staring at the pair, I focused instead on surveying my surroundings again. I’d only just arrived a few hours ago after spending most of yesterday at the ripperdoc’s, a Doctor Nightshade, undergoing treatment for the injuries I’d suffered at Grinder’s hooves the night before. We were back at that building where the concert Hash Stack had taken me to had been held, only now we were on the second floor. Apparently this venue was far more proprietary than I’d initially assumed. This wasn’t somewhere that Hussar just happened to be performing that night, this was their own personal concert hall. As well as their ‘base of operations’, it seemed.

While most of what was present in the loft made a certain amount of sense as far as what members of a band would have lying around where they lived―instruments, amplifiers, sheet music, and such―the massive computer and monitor setup in one corner of the loft’s main lounge area and the pegboard full of pinned-up documents and strings next to it felt decidedly not music-related. Then there was also the massive armory downstairs that looked like it was stocked with enough guns and munitions to fully equip the entire security detail protecting Aeriesaka Tower…twice.

I’d also never heard of a music group that could wipe out a whole boosterherd in less than five minutes. Whatever Hussar was, they weren’t ‘just’ a band, and its members weren’t ‘just’ musicians. I also got the impression that my old roommate hadn’t simply been a mere fan of their work. The level of sophistication of that computer setup in the corner, as well as the bathtub next to it, made me wonder if Hash ever dropped by for reasons other than to listen to their performances.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. My gaze shifted just in time to see Jenny Silverhoof striding briskly into the lounge. Dandy and Barkly trailed in behind her. The donkey’s eyes briefly lingered on me as she crossed the room, but she didn’t say anything, not even by way of greeting. Nearby, I noted that Gerry and Harriet paused their discussion and focused their full attention on their band’s lead singer.

Jenny came to a stop in the middle of the room, while the other two with her continued on and took up seats on some of the available unoccupied couches. Once eveycreature seemed to be in place, Jenny gave a slight nod of her head. “Alright, it’s time to talk about Elysium.”

There was a moment of disquiet from the others, and I sensed a few pairs of eyes lingering on me. Feeling that I was the odd mare out, I started to rise off of the lounge I was laying on and make myself scarce. I probably wasn’t supposed to be privy to any of what they were about to talk about, even if I was still quite curious to learn what connection had existed between my former boosterherd leader and the company managing the megasilo I’d been living in.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Jenny snapped, glaring at me. I immediately froze, staring at her with surprise. “Stare at your new flank on your own time; you’re on the clock now.” The donkey flicked her head back in the direction of the couch I’d just vacated. Hesitantly, I resumed my seat, my cheeks flushed at being called out. Even though I felt it was perfectly reasonable for me to have assumed that I wasn’t a part of this.

Gerry cleared his throat. “Jenny, do you really think it’s a good idea to bring her on like this?” The griffon asked, drawing the attention of both myself and the donkey. He briefly glanced at me. “No offense, kid,” he said by way of a caveat before once more looking fully at Silverhoof, “but we can’t just bring some filly in cold at the last minute.”

“Without Hash, we’re down to five,” Jenny responded, as though that was a completely sensible counter-argument to the griffon’s voiced objection. “We gotta have a sixth. Whoever it is is going to be brought in at the ‘last minute’ regardless. So it might as well be her.” She flicked a hoof in my direction. For all the donkey was nominally insisting that my inclusion was somehow essential to this mission, the way that she was acting made me feel like I was really little more than a packet of extra duck sauce being tossed into a bag of kirean take-out that was just going to be thrown in the trash with the bag once it reached home anyway.

The guitarist seemed to have interpreted Jenny’s tone in much the same way, because he didn’t look very convinced by the donkey’s reasoning. “First off: you can’t just ‘bring’ a sixth. You know it doesn’t work like that. It has to be her choice or it doesn’t count.”

“Fine,” Jenny snorted and then glanced over at me. “You want to come help the crew that just spent a fortune patching you up, or be a little bitch and welch out on us after we saved your li―?”

“Jenny!” The griffon snapped at her, glaring at the donkey. He held up a talon and pointed it at her. “An informed and non-coerced choice. You know why that matters.”

Jenny returned the tiercel’s glare with equal intensity. Every other creature in the room seemed perfectly content to remain outside of their exchange, and I didn’t blame them. I certainly didn’t want to get in the middle of…whatever this was. Even though I couldn’t help but feel like I already was pretty involved in it based on how they were acting.

Eventually, Gerry seemed to ‘win’ the staring contest that they were having and the donkey let out a resigned―if extremely annoyed-sounding―sigh. “Fine. Whatever. ‘Inform’ her then.” She waved off the griffon and wandered over towards a refrigerator, where she fetched herself a bottle of beer. The jenny then deftly flipped the cap off with a twitch of her arcanetic hoof and propped herself up against the wall, sipping at her drink and doing her best interpretation of a mare pretending that none of the other creatures in the room existed.

The griffon’s gaze lingered on her for a short while before he too sighed and shook his head. Gerry then turned his focus on me and I immediately saw his expression soften. It was almost apologetic as he leaned forward, folding his talons together and resting his arms on his knees. “You were a part of Grinder’s herd, right?” I nodded in the affirmative. He already knew that, of course. “Do you know what your herd was involved with? Like, ‘illicit activity’-wise?”

I shrugged. The short answer, of course, was that I actually didn’t. I’d just been some low-level thug. I didn’t pretend to know all of Grinder’s angles. “Drugs, guns, extortion―” I started to list off what I thought of as being ‘typical’ boosterherd activities, though I admitted I was only personally aware of the ‘protection’ racket that I was―nominally―a part of. I was mostly just assuming the other stuff happened, because why wouldn’t it?

It was that last activity that Gerry seemed to latch onto though. “Extortion; right! Specifically around your megasilo? He sent you door-to-door, hitting up creatures for money every month, didn’t he?”

Again I nodded, though my expression was probably a little more guarded this time. He was exactly right regarding the specific type of extortion that I was involved with. I wasn’t certain how he knew about that though. Exactly what I was tasked with doing in Grinder’s herd wasn’t anything I’d ever spoken with Hash about specifically. I knew she wouldn’t have approved of me ‘robbing’ our neighbors―not that I ever managed to do it successfully on the scale I was supposed to. It was possible that Hash had figured out what I was meant to be doing for Grinder anyway. She had apparently known far more about him than even I did.

“What if I told you he wasn’t doing that just for shits and giggles?” The griffon asked, a mirthless smile tugging at his lips. “What if I told you that Grinder had actually been on Elysium’s payroll and was working on their behalf?”

I balked, feeling my new jaw going instantly slack with shock. How could I not be surprised by that revelation? I’d just been told to believe that the company who controlled the rent on my apartment was also using thugs like me to squeeze more money out of their tenants. What sense did that make? It seemed like such a convoluted way for a ‘landlord’ to get money. They controlled the building anyway; they could just charge us more rent if they wanted more money! Why on Equis would they need Grinder to collect it for them?!

Either Gerry was good at reading faces, or he’d correctly anticipated how I’d react to the news, because he was ready to launch into an explanation which addressed my most pressing unasked questions. “Megasilos like the one you live on aren’t owned by Elysium Property Management. They’re officially owned by the Light City council. The council just contracts out to Elysium to manage them.” That much I actually already knew, and was nodding along as the griffon spoke. The next bits were genuine news to me though.

“However, because those buildings are the property of the city, and are part of a low-income subsidized housing initiative, the rent isn’t controlled by Elysium. They can only charge residents the rates that the city council sets, and those rates are tied to poverty and cost-of-living metrics generated every five years by a special subcommittee at city hall.”

My eyes must have started to glaze over, because Gerry cleared his throat and reined in his explanation slightly. “All that to say: Elysium is only allowed to make a certain amount of profit off the megasilos they run. Compared to what they make off of the higher-end properties they manage, it’s honestly a pittance. However, unlike their other properties, it’s also a steady rate of return guaranteed by the city. Enough to cover their operating costs and net the company a respectable profit at the end of the year.”

“Not a lot left over for their shareholders to split up though,” Harriet cut in, offering a wry smile of her own.

Gerry nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Nothing left over for bonuses or dividend payouts. A hundred thousand creatures squatting in the buildings they manage, and they only collect a little off the top. The manticore's share goes right back to the city that built those megasilos in the first place.”

“Only a megacorp would think that was ‘unfair’,” came Dandy’s derisive snort.

“That’s where Grinder, and other boosterherds like yours, come in,” the griffon continued. “Elysium can’t collect extra gryphusbits from the tenants directly, so they use boosterherds like his to go around and shake the residents down for extra gibbies. Elysium makes sure any police reports get squashed, and the boosterherds get to keep a cut of their own. Meanwhile, Elysium rakes in an extra hundred million or so a year. Minimal ‘operating expenses’ tied to it on their part, because it’s all boosterherds, so it’s basically pure profit for them.”

“The corpo execs just have to lightly cook the books and then they get to send that money right into their own pockets,” Harriet finished off.

“That warehouse your boy Grinder worked out of was preeeeetty pricey, rent-wise.” Dandy chimed in with a wink. “And also conveniently owned by…wanna guess?” He asked me.

“...Elysium?” I ventured.

“Dingdingding! Give the filly a prize! Tell what she’d won, Jenny!” The purple unicorn beamed in the direction of the donkey, but only received a scowl in return. He cleared his throat and turned back around in his seat.

Gerry was just finishing up rolling his eyes when I looked back in his direction. “So, yeah, that was what Hash and us have been working on for a while: exposing what Elysium’s doing with the local boosterherds. We’ve known what’s been going on for a while now, sure, but it’s taken us time to gather up real proof to go public with. At the moment, nearly all of what we have is circumstantial, at best. Just about everything can be refuted by Elysium’s PR team as speculation and conspiracy theories.

“But, now that we have the access runes for Elysium’s corporate offices, we can finally get in and get some hard evidence. Something that proves their executives not only know that the tenants in their buildings are being extorted, but that it was specifically ordered by their board of directors.”

What I was being told was…well, to say it was overwhelming would have been putting it mildly. I was experiencing such a whirlwind of emotions that it was really hard to separate everything that I was feeling. To be told that I’d been an unwitting part of some grand corporate conspiracy? Learning that my former boosterherd had been run by some kind of megacorp patsy, or whatever? Had any of the others in the herd known?

Then one emotion began to make itself felt more prominently through the tempest broiling within me: anger.

I’d grown up in one of those megasilos that Elysium had been managing, watching my mother struggle to come up with not only the rent for the month, but the money that Grinder’s goons demanded from her―money that I had just now learned was being demanded on Elysium’s behalf! Years of struggle and hunger. Dozens of brutal beatings that my mother suffered―beatings that ultimately killed her―all so that some rich corpo exec could pad their already absurdly robust bank account?!

I could almost have accepted the idea that my mother had died because some boosterherder like Grinder wanted her gibbies. After all: down here at the bottom it was a struggle to survive for all of us, and sometimes the weak just ended up getting stomped down by the strong who were just trying to keep their heads above water like the rest of us. The only difference being that they were ‘better’ at it by virtue of their strength.

But that hadn’t actually been the case this time. It wasn’t Grinder and his goons flexing their might to get a comfortable living off the backs of those who couldn’t resist them. It was all in service to creatures who flew around in luxurious sky wagons so they could sip expensive coffee in the living rooms of their opulent multi-floor downtown condos. My mother was killed because some…fucking corpo who’d paid more for a suite than my mother had earned in a year wasn’t already satisfied with having more money than they could hope to spend in a lifetime.

A cracking sound drew me out of my hazy red reverie. I glanced down towards the source and saw that my hoof had tensed up and was in the process of snapping off the headrest of the chaise lounge I was reclining on. I carefully released my hold, noting that there were already signs that significant damage had been done. Ah well, I already owed these creatures the better part of a hundred thousand gibbies for the arcanetics I’d just been outfitted with, what was the price of a new couch on top of that?

“...What’s going to happen to the execs when we out them? How long will they go to jail for?” I asked, barely even noticing that I’d subconsciously already included myself in their scheming. How could I not want to help the creatures who would bring justice to my mother?

Dandy let out a peel of laughter that drew a confused look from myself. “Ha! Oh, you precious summer-foal! Jail!” Another fit of laughter overtook the unicorn as he drew a hoof across his tearing eyes. “Oh, wow…remember when we were that naive?” He asked the diamond dog sitting next to him who was also quite obviously amused by my commnet. However, Barkly at least had the decency to keep her reaction restrained to a stifled snicker.

I looked back to Gerry, seeking assurance that there was going to be some form of punishment coming for those responsible for the pain my family had endured because of them. Unfortunately, I could tell from the griffon’s resigned expression that I wasn’t going to be thrilled with what I was hearing.

The tiercel was shaking his head slowly. “It’s…very unlikely that anything like that will happen. There’ll be layers of legal insulation and obfuscation in place that protect those high up. At best, we’d get some low to mid-level managers charged with racketeering. Maybe. Not likely though. Probably a few firings to appease the public and a lateral transition of a VP or two to make it look like something was done to ‘fix’ the problem.”

“So, what, Elysium just loses the contract and that’s it? They go on making slightly less money?”

Another round of giggling from Dandy. Another pause and an uncomfortable shift from the griffon. “...Elysium is the only firm large enough to manage the megasilos properly. The city can’t realistically give the contract to any other company.”

“So then what’s even the point?!” I yelled, drawing a look from Barkly that was equal parts surprise and amusement.

“The point is that they’ll stop,” Gerry assured me.

I snorted, not bothering to hide my skepticism. “And why would they? None of them are going to jail, they aren’t going to lose the contract―I bet they won’t even get a fucking fine either…”

“That much they’ll get,” Harriet nodded. Then added, “...but that’ll just get written off on the company’s taxes next year, meaning a smaller tax bill and more net profits. So, ultimately no ‘real’ loss for them there.”

I threw up my hooves in resignation and glared back at Gerry. “So, again: what’s the point? Why would they stop?”

“They’ll stop because the other megacorps will make them,” the griffon answered simply.

Oddly enough, and despite my assumption otherwise, none of the others thought that Gerry was joking or being sarcastic. I raised a quizzical eyebrow. “How’s that?”

“Think about it,” Gerry said. I tried, but still came up against a wall where the logical progression of events were concerned. I couldn’t see how Elysium’s shenanigans becoming public knowledge would infuriate other companies enough that they would be the ones to put pressure on the property manager. Weren’t they all out to make money?

“If a tenant in your megasilo didn’t need to pay off Grinder,” the griffon said, “what would they use that money for?”

I frowned. I knew what my mother would have been using it for. “Food, clothing, other stuff they needed,” I replied, though I still didn’t understand what the griffon was trying to get at. Yet, somehow, I seemed to have stumbled onto exactly the answer he was looking for, judging by his reaction.

“Exactly! That money wouldn’t just go into a black hole. It would be spent on other things. Other things owned by other companies,” Gerry stressed. I blinked a few times, and then what he was getting at finally started to dawn on me. “Those hundreds of millions of gibbies that Elysium was using boosterherds to funnel into the pockets of their higher-up execs were hundreds of millions of gibbies that weren’t going where they were ‘supposed to be’: into the pockets of the city’s consumer goods companies.

Harriet chimed in once more. “The membership of the board of directors for Elysium overlaps a little with the boards of other major Light City companies. The day after the story on Elysium’s operation breaks, there are going to be a lot of very angry board members in a lot of other companies who are going to realize that their company’s profits―and thus their personal bonus and dividend payments―could have been a lot higher for the last decade or so…except that one of their members got greedy and didn’t want to share.” The hippogriff mare wiggled her eyebrows knowingly, a predatory grin on her face.

“You don’t get to pinch gibbies from the pockets of your fellow board members and expect that they’ll let you keep on going ‘business as usual’,” Gerry nodded. “If Elysium’s execs want to stay on those other boards and keep earning a slice of all those other pies, they’ll be under pressure to stop Elysium from extorting their tenants so that those gibbies can resume flowing to the ‘right’ places.

“So, no, we’re not looking for the city or the police to do anything about this. We’re fighting fire with fire and sending the elites after each other. Is it real justice?” Gerry shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. “I’m sorry, but that’s just not how Light City works. But the shakedowns will stop. That’s enough.”

For the first time during that interaction, Jenny reacted. Though it was with a derisive snort. Gerry flashed the donkey a brief look of annoyance before rolling his eyes and looking back at me. “It’s enough for now, anyway.”

If I said I wasn’t disappointed with what the realistic end goal appeared to be for all of this, I’d be lying. It infuriated me that the creatures who’d orchestrated all of the suffering my mother had gone through wouldn’t really receive anything close to what I thought of as real ‘justice’. They wouldn’t lose their ill-gotten wealth and have it returned to the public which they’d wronged. They wouldn’t go to prison. All that was going to happen was that they were going to receive a few harsh glares from their peers and be pressured into essentially taking a mild ‘pay cut’ of sorts.

Receiving slightly less obscene amounts of wealth for putting into motion the events that led to the deaths of my mother and my best friend―to say nothing of the suffering that tens of thousands of Light City’s most vulnerable residents had endured. No wonder Dandy had been moved to laughter: it was indeed a joke. Still, if the alternative was to sit by and do nothing while the practice continued…well, that was hardly an ‘alternative’ at all, was it?

“I’ll help,” I informed the griffon. “Whatever you need me to do, I’m in.”

The sound of the buzzer going off in my ears signaled the start of the latest round of drills I was currently undergoing. My arcanetic talisman lit up and drew the pistol from the holster hidden beneath my vest. About the time I managed to whip the weapon’s barrel downrange, an image of some generic boosterherd lowlife shimmered into being directly ahead of me. I pulled the trigger and heard the sound of the gunshot ring out. The target evaporated as my shot struck true. A second later, another similar target materialized off to my right. I shifted and fired. This time I found myself needing to take a second shot, my first apparently having gone wide.

The third and fourth targets also went down without any issue as I whipped around from one side to the other. However, I found myself wincing in acknowledgement of my failure when the fifth target materialized and I put a round directly through the image’s head. Something told me that I hadn’t been meant to shoot the stallion dressed in a business casual shirt and jacket carrying a cup of what was most likely coffee. Confirming those suspicions, I was immediately greeted by a sour chime in my ear just before the augmented reality simulation dissolved around me.

I was greeted to the sight of a familiar griffon reclining on one of the loft’s chaise lounges, a guitar held in his talons as he progressed slowly through a series of somber chords. He looked over at me. “Your aim’s gotten a lot better.” He waved a talon in the air and pointed over at the array of display screens on the far wall. A moment later, they produced an image of my last target. Gerry whistled and shook his head. “Ain’t no arcanetics that’ll fix that.”

I grimaced. “If I hesitate, the simulation ‘kills’ me for being ‘too slow’,” I pointed out to the griffon who was ostensibly ‘coaching’ me in order to get me ready to come along with them on their operation against Elysium Properties in a few days. The training was going…not preem so far.

“It sucks to be the ‘good guys’,” Gerry agreed with a knowing nod of his head as he went back to strumming chords.

“Oh, come on; it’s stupid for the sim to put random donks in there like that,” I protested, waving a hoof over at the screen and my latest innocent victim. “No way some rando wage-slave is going to be wandering around during a gunfight with a Haywood boosterherd!”

Gerry paused his strumming once more and shifted his gaze back to me. “What about when we’re running through Elysium’s offices in the middle of the night? You don’t think it’s possible that some poor sap might be hanging around after hours trying to get in a little overtime so they can afford a Hearth’s Warming present for their foal?” I didn’t have a response for that. “Sure, ideally we won’t even need to draw our guns if things go well,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “But if they don’t and we find ourselves getting chased around by Elysium security and bullets start flying…

“Don’t sit there and tell me you’ll be okay if you end up plugging some nine-to-fiver because you got caught up in the moment.”

He had a point. It wasn’t like I hadn’t already accidentally shot somepony who didn’t deserve it.

My telekinetic field started to waver as the bitter memories took hold. I holstered the pistol in my grasp before it could fall. I’d done enough practicing for one morning anyway. I stepped over to the fridge and withdrew a beer, deftly popping the cap with my talisman before finding a spot for myself to relax on another of the loft’s couches. For a while, I sipped at the drink in silence while the gold and ivory griffon resumed playing the guitar he held. Eventually though, I wasn’t able to hold back any further on a few of the questions that had been building within me since arriving here. Early on, it had been simple enough to keep quiet, since I didn’t want to risk wearing out my welcome with complete strangers. However, now that I was―apparently―a nominal member of their ‘crew’, it felt to me like I could be forgiven for wanting to understand them a bit more.

Besides, Gerry had thus far shown himself to be one of the more amicable members of their group. He was certainly the least likely to bite my head off if it turned out I was overstepping. “How did you guys get into all this…I don’t know, ‘vigilante business’, I guess? Is the band angle just a cover, or…?”

The griffon chuckled in response, his talons continuing to pick at the strings as he replied. “Nah, the music came first. At least, for most of us.” His gaze briefly flickered in the direction of Jenny’s room before returning to the instrument he was holding. “It was our outlet. Our way to ‘wail and gnash teeth’, as it were, against the monster that Light City had become. We wanted to wake creatures up to the problems that the system had created for us that seemed to just go unaddressed.

“It’s worth knowing that this was all back when we were naive and idealistic,” he added by way of caveat, “like you.” I narrowed my eyes at him and tried my best not to be overly offended by the latter comment. The griffon chuckled again and continued. “Of course, the trouble with music is that it’s pretty easy for creatures to just see it as entertainment. A distraction, more than any call to action.

“That’s hardly their fault. It’s not like we really have any ground to stand on getting upset that other creatures don’t feel like becoming revolutionaries when even we weren’t really doing anything to help either.

“So we started taking action ourselves.”

“So you guys are like, what? Robin Hooves and her Merry Mares? Robbing the corpos and helping the poor?”

“Something like that.” Gerry shrugged. “Nothing quite that simple and direct though. Just outright stealing from the megacorps wouldn’t fix anything. If anything, it would honestly create more problems than it would solve. We try to work within the system a lot more than we try to buck it. Mostly.”

“The same ‘system’ that won’t actually do anything to punish those Elysium fuckers who created an extortion racket that got my mother beaten to death?” I all but growled. Gerry at least had the decency to wince as he nodded soberly.

“Yup…that’s the one.”

“It seems like a pretty broken system, if you ask me.”

Another nod. “You won’t find anycreature here who’d argue that point with you,” he acknowledged, “but that doesn’t change the reality of the situation. There’s no practical way to ‘fix’ it in the short term. There’s certainly nothing the five of us can do. Er, six, rather.”

“Okay, so what can we do that works ‘within the system’ then?”

“We expose the problems. Get the word out to the public and create pressure on the city officials and megacorps, like how we talked about with Elysium’s board members. Dandy works as an investigative journalist for LCN. He has a weekly show on Saturdays. When we uncover really screwed up stuff like what Elysium is doing, he airs it on his segment.”

I frowned at the griffon. “And how does him talking about it on the news help with anything if nocreature is going to actually get arrested or anything? What’s the point?”

To my surprise―and presumably even Gerry’s, if his shocked expression was enough to go by―it was Jenny herself who provided the answer to my question. At some point during our conversation, she’d apparently wandered out of her room and was on her way to the fridge for a beer of her own. “The ‘point’ is to get creatures ‘in the know’,” she quipped, “to let them know how the system’s fucking with them. To remind them that this isn’t how things should be and get them mad.”

The donkey used her arcanetic hoof to deftly remove the cap from her bottle, but she didn’t take a drink yet, instead continuing to explain the plan to me as she circled around the lounge I was reclining on. “Sure, at first the masses are probably just going to grumble a bit. They’ll whine into their whiskey at the bar and talk a big game, but ultimately not do anything but get drunk and go back to their shithole lives; rinse, repeat. Complaining is the oldest pastime of the peon. In the end, they’ll just take it on the chin and wake up the next morning asking for another hit from The Mare.

“How many times did you let Grinder hit you?” The jenny asked me with a sneer on her lips that left me feeling a mixture of anger and shame. I didn’t respond though, because I knew that she was right. I’d let my late boosterherd leader smack me around for years without raising a hoof against him. Out of fear for the most part. That was the easy answer though, looking back on things. A more honest part of me knew that I’d let it happen in part because I didn’t really believe that things could be better for me. That what I was enduring was just the way my life was ‘supposed’ to play out at the hooves of the powerful. Because, what was I realistically going to be able to do to change how things happened in the herd?

“But,” Jenny continued, “most creatures can only be pushed so far before they finally stand up and cry out: ‘no more!’” Her sneer was more predatory now, and I could see a hungry glint in her sapphire eyes. Determined. Unwavering. I wondered if that was what Grinder had seen in me in those last moments when I’d finally stood up to him after seeing what he’d done to Hash Stack’s body.

The rockerfilly seemed to know exactly what I was thinking about at that moment, because she started nodding in my direction. “Exactly! Even a submissive little bitch like you eventually stiffens up after she’s taken it up the ass for long enough!”

My expression immediately soured, both as a result of not-a-compliment as well as the mental image her phrasing evoked. Ew.

“We push the public far enough and hard enough by shoving shit like Elysium in their faces, and someday they’ll finally stand up and burn this shithole system to the fucking ground! Those elite corpo fucks will fall from their ivory towers as the whole house of cards they built for themselves on our backs comes tumbling down around their ears!”

Jenny punctuated her declaration by raising the bottle clutched in the crook of her organic forehoof into the air in a gesture akin to a toast before finally bringing it to her lips and chugging the contents of the bottle in their entirety. She then discarded the now empty bottle by apathetically tossing it away, causing the glass container to roll noisily along the floor, and somehow managing not to break it. The donkey then leaned over the lip of the chaise I was on and jabbed her arcanetic hoof at me. “That’s why we need you,” she declared, much to my own obvious astonishment.

“You need me?”

The donkey nodded her head sagely. “We need a spark to kick off the fire that’s going to burn the system down, and it takes six to create the spark.”

“...What?” I’d heard Jenny speak in a good deal of hyperbole up to this point, but this was the first time that I hadn’t been able to at least vaguely follow what she was talking about. Though it wasn’t the first time I’d heard the number six discussed where it related to me being a part of their crew. I craned my head back to look at Gerry once more. “Why is it so important that there be six of us?”

“Because there are six Elements,” the griffon tiercel replied, as though that answer was supposed to make any kind of sense to me.

“Old Equestrian legend…prophecy…thing,” Jenny explained, twisting her mirror hoof in the air in front of her lazily. “If we want to restore Harmony, then we need to work as a group of six.” The donkey must have seen my blank stare for what it was and gave a shrug before gesturing in the direction of the band’s guitarist. “Gerry’s the expert on that stuff. I just know that it’s been working out for us so far.

“I’ll let him explain it to you.” She glanced pointedly at the griffon. “I’ve got a meeting with Rouge at the Glue Factory. I’ll be back later.” And, with that, the jenny turned and trotted out the door.

I stared after the donkey before slowly turning my head to look back at the tiercel. “...Was that some weird way of saying she was going to go take a shit?”

The griffon chortled. “No,” he assured me, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “The Glue Factory is the name of a bar in Trotson. Rouge runs the place. She’s also the best fixer in Light City. She and Jenny go way back. Like, before she was ‘Silverhoof’ back.”

“Oh.” I nodded slowly in vague understanding. Then I suddenly paused as a thought occurred to me. I briefly glanced in the direction of the exit to ensure that the donkey was truly out of earshot before returning my attention to the griffon. I leaned in closer to him and spoke in an almost conspiratory whisper, as I suspected that a question like this would be considered something of a sensitive matter. “Hey…so I noticed that Jenny doesn’t have a talisman to let her use magic like everycreature else. Is there a reason for that, or…?”

Comprehension blossomed over the tiercel’s face and a soft smile spread across his beak. “Ah, yeah, that.” He leaned back in his own lounge. “It’s pretty simple really: She sees these implants as a form of ‘control’. Or maybe ‘leverage’ is a better word for it…?” He pondered the thought for a second before shrugging. “Regardless: she refused to patronize Light City’s corporations any more than is absolutely necessary. It’s her own little passive way of ‘fighting the system’ on a day-to-day basis.”

“But none of the rest of you feel the same way?” I asked, gesturing at the gemstone mounted just below the griffon’s crest plumage. My tone wasn’t accusatory; I was genuinely just curious.

“For some of us it isn’t an option. Like Hariett and Dandy,” he noted. “Can’t nettrot without a lot of invasive implants, and most white collar jobs―like news reporting―require a creature to be able to interface with most Light City systems through arcanetics. For me and Barkly, it's a little simpler: it’s another weapon in our arsenal to use against the megacorps. Though with Barkly that metaphor is a bit less ‘metaphorical’,” he added with a wink.

“Jenny gets by without it though. Honestly, she wouldn’t even have the arcanetic hoof if she hadn’t lost her real one in an accident years ago.” At my unasked question, the griffon elaborated. “She worked at some kind of factory early on in her life. Pretty mundane story: manager was bucking for a promotion. So they rolled back some safety regs to increase production numbers to help themselves look good. It ended the way you’d expect.

“Jenny lost her leg. A few others were maimed too. Earth pony working next to her was killed outright. Pretty messy end too, if I recall. Production line was back up and running before lunch like nothing happened.

“Manager got his promotion and a performance bonus at the end of the quarter.”

“Damn. That’s fucked up,” I said.

“That’s Light City.”

I once more directed my gaze in the direction of the loft’s exit. I suspected that Jenny wasn’t the sort who put up with offers of sympathy, but she still had mine. I could certainly understand why she was so pissed off at how things were for most of the creatures on the lower rungs of Light City’s societal ladder.

I once more turned to the griffon. “So, what is the whole deal with needing six of us? Jenny mentioned a prophecy?” I quirked a skeptical brow as I put a little more stress on the last word. It was pretty hard to tell with the donkey when she wasn’t just being colorful with her word choice. I assumed it was a consequence of her lyric-writing vocation. I might not have any sort of formal education or experience in song-writing, but I’d certainly listened to enough music to know that most musicians leaned heavily into hyperbole and metaphor with their writing. I was starting to wonder if I was supposed to not take everything that Jenny said a face value.

Judging from the griffon’s crinkled expression, I suspected that he wasn’t the greatest fan of the donkey’s word-choice either. “‘Prophecy’ definitely isn’t the right word, no. I’d say that it’s more of a guideline? That seems closer.

“How much do you know about Harmony?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never done anything with music,” I told him.

A look of confusion flashed briefly across Gerry’s feathered brow before he let out a chirp of laughter and shook his head. “Ha! No, not that kind of harmony―though I can see why you’d assume.” He tapped a talon on the guitar he was holding. “I’m talking about big-H Harmony.” I felt an eyebrow rise up involuntarily, earning another soft chuckle from the griffon.

“So, the short version is that working with a group to pursue a shared goal can facilitate magic that helps accomplish that goal. The optimal number to generate that magic is six.”

I frowned at the griffon. “But won’t we only be generating magic using five of us if Jenny is there? You just said she doesn’t have a talisman that lets her use magic.” I pointed at my own forehead, and the gemstone mounted at the base of my horn to illustrate my point. “How’s she supposed to link up without one to do…whatever it is we’re going to do?”

Gerry shook his head. “No, I’m not talking about talisman magic. I mean the innate magic present in all living things.”

This time it was my turn to laugh. “What are you talking about? Living things don’t have ‘innate magic’; magic is toxic to us! That’s why we need to take potions if we have extensive arcanetic implants: so our bodies can adjust to interacting with the magical energy powering the augs.

“Everycreature knows that!”

“...What if I told you that everycreature was wrong?” Gerry asked, giving me a pointed look which no longer contained any mirth.

My own expression faltered briefly beneath his gaze. I sought out any hint that the griffon was engaging in some sort of elaborate attempt to deceive me for some purpose. It wasn’t like I’d never been lied to by others before so that my ignorance could be exploited. This was feeling like one of those times, given how outrageous the griffon’s claim was. Yet, at the same time, the tiercel’s expression was unwavering. Either he was completely serious, or he was one of the best liars I’d ever encountered.

Or maybe he just sincerely believed the lie?

“...Magic isn’t a natural phenomena,” I insisted, though without quite the conviction I’d had a few seconds ago. “That’s why we need talismans to use it. It’s technology.”

“You’re right. We do need talismans.” I felt some measure of relief that Gerry was at least willing to agree on that point. However, then he went on to add: “Now.” Again I felt myself growing more wary. Secret corporate conspiracies I could accept. They were at least logically consistent. But now the griffon was asking me to believe that everything I knew about how the world worked was a lie. Which I felt was a pretty big thing to ask me to just take on faith.

“You really expect me to believe that, once upon a time, we could all just do magic? No talismans involved?” I scoffed at the notion. Yet I noticed that the tiercel’s expression didn’t change, and I felt that nagging doubt growing more pronounced beneath the guitarist's conviction.

Gerry nodded. “Yup. There was a time unicorns like you could use your horns to cast spells on a whim and griffons like me could fly with just a flap of our wings. No gems needed.” He extended one of his wings, tracing a talon along the array of glittering topaz nodules embedded along its leading edge. A wan smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he briefly imagined what such a feat would be like.

As he’d talked, I’d found my gaze darting up briefly to my horn, going briefly cross-eyed as I tried to catch sight of its tip. Then I looked at Gerry’s wings. Admittedly, there’d always been a nagging thought in the back of my mind about pegasi, griffons, batponies, and such and their wings; and how they could only fly around with implanted talismans. We were told in school that their wings were just aesthetic, like unicorn and kirin horns. Hash had once explained that wasn’t how biology worked. Much like the conversation I found myself in now, it was hard to take an individual’s word over what everycreature ‘knew’ was the truth; no matter how much respect I might have for the specific individual.

It had created a crack in my old convictions though, and I’d found myself thinking about horns and wings and things more and more over the years. I wasn’t quite ready to let go of all of my skepticism yet though. This whole idea about innate magic seemed like a much bigger stretch than using wings to fly without the aid of implants. “So why can’t we do that stuff anymore?”

In an act that honestly didn’t do all that much to help the griffon’s case, the tiercel held up his talons in an exaggerated shrug, flashing me a lopsided smile. “Nocreature knows! Magic just doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Except for what we can pull from gemstones anyway.” Then, just as I opened my mouth, but before I could call him out on what was feeling a lot more like obvious bullshit, he held up a claw. “Except…for Harmony. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. We all have.” He gestured around the loft, clearly meaning the other members of the band.

“You might see it too during the Elysium op.” He flashed another grin my way. “Then you’ll be a believer too, I bet.”

I was still frowning at the griffon though. “So why is the number six so important?”

The tiercel opened his mouth as if to answer, then hesitated, and finally offered another―albeit smaller―shrug. “I don’t know.” I let out an audibly exasperated sigh, prompting the griffon to throw up his talons in mock surrender. “I know, I know; it sounds like the biggest cop-out ever!” At least he had the self-awareness to recognize how outlandish his claims were sounding. “But it’s the truth; I don’t know. None of us do. But we’ve been running ops for years and we know that we only experience Harmony when there are six of us working together.

“If it helps,” he went on, “I’m not asking you to ‘buy in’ to any of this. It’s not some kind of cult religion thing. You don’t want to believe it; that’s fine. By all means, don’t believe me. It won’t affect anything that happens. It just matters that you’re with us and that you want us to succeed. That’s all Harmony seems to care about either.”

I regarded the griffon for several more seconds in silence as I mulled his words over in my head. It was good that he wasn’t insisting that I take his claims on faith; because I doubted that I could. It wasn’t that I thought I knew better than the griffon. I’d never made any great claims in my life to omniscience. However, he had basically asked me to accept that everything that I’d ever seen and experienced all of my life wasn’t ‘normal’ or ‘right’, essentially. Which wasn’t how ‘normal’ definitionally worked, as I understood the word.

Creatures didn’t inherently possess magic. Magic interacted negatively with our bodies in large quantities, and that was why we needed to consume alchemical potions if we possessed substantial quantities of arcanetics. That was how things worked. How things had always worked.

…Right?

Where would Gerry have even heard any differently? Actually, now that I thought about it, that was a good question. I peered over at the griffon. “How’d you find out about all that Harmony stuff, anyway? By accident?”

The guitarist shook his head and then tossed me a wan smile. “Hash Stack, actually.” That got my attention, and it seemed that the tiercel was able to instantly recognize my interest in the subject. “During a dive into some records at city hall―records that led us to this whole Elysium job actually―Hash found an old archive. According to her, that thing had more wards and ICE than she’d ever seen in her life. Even Aeriesaka didn’t protect their most top secret files like this thing was―I don’t think she was exaggerating either.

“She never managed to fully break the wards on what she found,” Gerry admitted with a somber roll of his shoulders, his features briefly dimming at the recognition that the pegasus never would now. “She eventually cracked open a few smaller pieces though. References to Harmony―big ‘H’,” the tiercel amended with another wink in my direction before continuing. “Friendship―with a big ‘F’―and magic. Barely any mention of arcanetics or talismans though.

“Trust me, we were just as skeptical as you at first.” Gerry admitted with a warmer smile in my direction. “Then we saw the results for ourselves.”

I felt more of my earlier conviction wavering at the revelation. This information had come from Hash? Her I was more willing to believe―nothing against the griffon personally. He seemed nice enough. But Hash was Hash. She’d done so much for me without ever asking for anything in return. To say nothing of risking her life to save mine.

If it had been her sitting across from me telling me about Harmony, would I have been more willing to accept the notion?

…Honestly? I probably would have. Though seeing it with my own eyes would go a considerable way towards convincing me. I rolled off the lounge and relaunched the earlier simulation I’d been struggling with. “Then I guess I’d better make sure I’m ready to go with you guys on the op so I can see it too.”

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated :twilightblush:

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