Being unemployed felt weird to Drill Bit, granted he was thankful for the extended rest period while the work office figured out what to do with him, but it also meant he couldn’t enjoy a full meal until then.

At this point though he was over stomach pains, half rations and thin soup be damned. Sadly he wasn’t in a position to indulge and would have to endure it for the moment.

On the bright side however, Toychest had finished whatever it was hiding inside the gift wrapped box now tucked inside Drill’s saddlebag. So with a soft smile and slight spring to his step, the stallion trotted towards the Orphanage in the early hours of the day, hoping to catch Comet before they sent him off.

He approached the front door and knocked, but after several moments there was little indication he was heard.

“She’s probably busy with the little ones, she’ll hear me eventually.”

Drill knocked again, patiently waiting for somepony to answer.

…

Suddenly a series of loud bangs indicative of a gallop sounded out and Drill took a step back.

It was well timed as before, the door blasted open flying around on its hinge- “Hello I’m- Oh Drill Bit!-” -before bouncing off the wall, but Drill caught the door with a hoof before it could give Rose another lip bleed.

Both stared at the door as Drill lowered his hoof. “You really need to be less forceful with that.”

“Sorry, but you have kind of caught me during rush hour.” Rose stepped aside to reveal several children of different ages walking around performing their morning routines, and if Drill listened carefully he could hear the distant cries of some young foal.

Rose’s smile couldn’t have been more forced if she tried.

“Right, well I’d like to talk to Comet, I think you know why.” Drill gestured toward his saddlebag.

“Oh! Yes of course, just please try not to disrupt anypony, most are still having breakfast.”

Drill nodded and stepped inside as Rose went her own way, likely back to her duties while Drill retraced his steps. Despite it being closer to half seven the orphanage was abuzz with activity, many walked the halls in either ragged, homemade pyjamas or thicker clothing meant for outside.

He hadn’t even considered how chilly the air was until the thought occurred to him, it wasn’t anywhere near the suffering of the prison but that was to be expected.

Still, It put a needle in his heart to know most of them wouldn’t be going to a classroom. He only prayed they stayed away from the factories.

Drill walked up to the bunkroom door he remembered had Comet’s bed and entered. The first thing he heard was the sound of several kids…being kids.

“Some ‘shooting star’ you’ll be!”

“Imagine being an earth pony but without any of the magic!”

“Comet Trail? More like Comet Fail!”

He took a deep breath and prepared a stern frown only an ageing pony with too many workplace mishaps could muster, then threw the door wide open. There were no shouts, no loud bangs, no indication of any kind.

Comet had been pushed into the literal corner of the room with a trio of colts having their backs turned to the door, with Comet himself using his sole wing as a shield audibly whimpering. That however didn’t stop him seeing Drill appear in the doorway.

The moment his expression changed the bullies took note.

They then slowly turned around and each of their pupils collectively shrank to the size of a pea.

“Unless you have a reason to be in here, or your name is Comet Trail, leave.”

Drill stepped to the side and the bullies sped out the door so fast they might’ve impressed an athlete.

Closing the door behind him, Drill put on a smile and approached the prone pegasus. “Drill Bit! You came back!” He cried.

“Yep, and I brought you something as well.” The stallion sat down next to Comet and pulled out the blue and red gift wrapped box.

The moment he laid eyes upon it Comet’s face welled up as he took it with both hooves, gently placing it on the ground in front of him. Drill could sense the happiness welling within the colt and see the wonder in his eye as he looked at the velvet bow, smiling at his friend’s work.

“This is for me?” Comet said with his voice quivering in disbelief.

“It is, I said I was sorry and I wanted to prove it.” Drill’s expression soured a little. “I know it can’t replace the wing you lost, but I hope you’ll like it all the same.”

Comet turned back to the present and reached for its bow, but stopped himself short, his expression faltering as he hesitated. Drill raised an eyebrow at that and Comet turned to him, “Mr. Drill Bit?” He said, his voice laced with guilt. “I’m also sorry about shouting at you at the hospital. I shouldn’t have gone supernova like that.”

Drill simply smiled and pushed the gift closer to him. “That’s alright Comet, you just got angry and made a mistake, it’s something that happens to everypony eventually. And after what happened, I figured you would.” He then gestured towards the present.

“Go ahead, open it.”

The colt looked back to the present and with a tear in his eye, plucked the loose ends of the velvet bow. In a moment the wrapping came undone and he pulled the lid off, reaching inside for his prize.

Drill Bit saw first hoof that golden moment of wonder every parent on Hearth’s Warming waits for, as when Comet pulled out a stuffed look-alike of Princess Luna he was stunned. Toychest had out-done himself, the fabric was soft and cushy, the colours were bright and vivid, he’d even added details to her mane like tiny star constellations!

Comet hugged the thing so tightly he might’ve crushed it were it alive. Silently whimpering tears of joy as he embraced the Princess of Dreams, pouring an untold amount of emotion into the stuffed toy as he extended his one wing around to shield it.

Seeing him happy like this filled Drill’s heart with a fulfilling, soul nourishing joy that made him smile hard enough to hurt. So much so he couldn’t help himself but chuckle at the colt’s fortune, how couldn’t he? It was like the Hearth’s Warming he never had.

But something was wrong, something was very, very wrong.

It didn’t take long for reality to come knocking and remind Drill that Comet still had to go back to that accursed Ore Plant. That was when it hit him.

“If I adopt Comet, I could decide where he goes!”

However, his common sense immediately jumped in front of his emotions to point out the issues.

“But…am I able to raise a kid? There’ll be growing pains for sure, I’ll have to give up drinking for starters and re-furnish my apartment.” Drill then panned his gaze around the rest of the room, looking at the bunks. “But It’s better than being here, kids can be evil little things.”

His mind found itself wrapped in a brief tug of war, weighing the logical conflicts against the moral justifications. In the end…the obvious one won out.

“Push on Drill Bit,” He then returned to Comet, quietly rocking back and forth with his new friend. “For a brighter tomorrow.”

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and prepared himself. “Comet?” He spoke softly.

The colt paused his rocking and turned to him, his eyes pink from the outpour. “Yes Mr. Drill Bit?”

“Do you want to stop working at that Ore Plant?”

Comet nodded, hugging his plushie harder as if hoping it would protect him.

“Well there’s a way I can do that. I’m afraid I’m not in charge there anymore, but if somepony adopts you, they can decide where you work. I know we’ve only really just met, and asking this early is sort of silly of me, but the thought of you going back there hurts me.”

“It hurts me to.” Comet added.

“I know it does,” Drill nodded, “So I’d like to ask you Comet Trail, would you be interested in being adopted?”

The colt’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open, staring up at him.

“I can’t promise things will be perfect, but I do promise to do my best.”

Comet hesitated to answer which came as no surprise to the stallion, this was as big a decision for him as it were for Drill. But one glance towards the bunkroom door and the three ponies peeping on them solidified his mind and he nodded with a smile.

“Thank you Comet, I won’t let this chance slip.”

Drill Bit picked himself up and headed for the door, hearing the scattering of several hooves as he approached. Before he grabbed the handle he turned back one more time. “I need to talk to some ponies, but you will hear back from me. I promise.”

Comet nodded with a smile. “Thank you Mr. Drill Bit!”

With little more reason to stay, Drill left and headed for the exit.

New Canterlot’s administration building was not something Drill would call the peak of architecture.

Sure, it was better than the giant metal towers plugged up with glass from most of the city, but it still oozed an aura of arrogance.

How else could a noble have twisted the Captain’s arm into letting them have a completely open public square out front, in a city where everything was cramped?

The curved double staircases that led to the front door, the polished wooden panels hiding the steel frames, even just the dam observatory that poked out the very top of the building like a church bell. Oh sure Pegasi were using it as a mail drop off point, but the inconsistency between it and the rest of the town made it painfully obvious somepony had made some backroom deal with Iron Might during construction.

Even now he was stunned it wasn’t coated in gold just to complete the obnoxious show of indulgence.

Drill Bit huffed as he climbed the staircase. “I need to calm down, I’m being bitter again.”

He stopped just short of the double doors and caught his breath.

“Okay Drill Bit, go in, hoof in the adoption form you filled out, ask about getting a job at the Hothouse and you’ll be fine.”

With a nod, he grabbed the door handle and pulled.

“Won’t take a minute.”

“A week?! Are you kidding me?”

Drill glared daggers at the apathetic unicorn mare sat opposite him, towering stacks of paper flanking her sides as she re-checked her papers, utterly unfazed by Drill’s outburst.

“I’m sorry sir, but that’s the earliest we can get a replacement for the Ore Plant, if it really can’t wait then you’ll have to take it up with the head of office.”

“Administrator Ballpoint? Oh I think I well then.” Drill scowled, but again his attitude made little difference to the mare as she returned to her notes.

“Give me one moment sir, I’ll see when he’s available.”

Drill leaned back in his chair and paced out his breathing. Yes he was angry, but knew that wouldn’t get him far in a place like this. Next thing he knows he’d be dragged out by a guard on “anti-social behaviour” if he didn’t calm down. And that wouldn’t make the adoption process any easier either.

Just when he’d managed to turn the gas off the mare added fuel to the fire.

“I’m sorry to say this but he’s not currently taking meetings with the public right now.”

Drill’s gaze snapped back to the mare and he felt his lungs inhale, ready to throw another fit. But instead, he held his breath and whickered, releasing pressure off that boiling kettle. The stallion had embarrassed himself enough already with the last outcry he didn’t need to look like a toddler.

“So you're saying I’m going to be unable to adopt him for a straight week? And you still don’t have any information on what my next position will be?”

Again the mare responded with the same amount of effort most spent getting out of bed in the morning or paying their taxes.

“Unfortunately so, things have slowed down now that we’re dealing with a near constant stream of refugees, we’re still restructuring things to keep up.” She said, trying to reorganise her notes. “Even a city has growing pains.”

Drill shut his eyes and sweared under his breath, it was yet another thing to add to his list of creature discomforts. Having exhausted his options he got up from his chair before giving her one last look. “Thanks for your help…”

She only nodded to confirm she’d heard him before Drill set off again.

At the very least the walk would give him time to clear his mind, administration wasn’t a small place. Like the hospital it was a long building with about two branches going either direction from the entrance, with the inside featuring many office blocks and cubicles, like the one he was walking away from now.

The floors and ceilings had polished wood arranged into neat little patterns and the light bulbs even had covers. All the makings of a pre-frost bureaucrat’s wet dream, but it had at least given the place a natural look.

If one could call processed wood, steel beams and exposed plumbing natural…

Drill exited the left branch hallway and entered the main atrium where the centrepiece of the building stood. A huge spiralling staircase that led up into a glass dome in the ceiling where messengers flew in and out delivering countless reports. The spiral itself having depressions and draws with packages and messages Drill could only guess the contents of which.

But such a thing was above his pay grade and he cared little for it, the guards would’ve stopped him or any other rascal trying to have at it.

“A whole week, and no public meetings, who does Inkwell think he is? Ah yes you can adopt a child and choose where they work, but we get the final on if they get and when they get adopted, that’s just peachy.”

Drill’s hooves stomped with each step, mentally picturing Ballpoint’s smug face as he moved.
“Oh here I go complaining again, it’s all I ever do, complain complain complain. Still, it’s a better way to vent my anger then say, screaming my lungs out or starting a fire-”

Drill crossed an office block when something large obscured by several stacks of paper suddenly collided with him, sending both parties to the ground and showering them in processed wood.

Drill gave an equine-like snort in frustration as he got back up and turned to see who he’d crashed into, quickly discerning the large silhouette of a diamond dog in a yellow office shirt.

“Fucking damnit there go the four-five-one forms!” He swore, pushing up his glasses.

Drill’s prior frustration began to die down as he recognised him. “Cazrel?”

He’d already begun gathering up the papers when he heard his name. “Huh? Oh Drill Bit! Nice of you to crash in.”

“Sorry.” He spoke through his teeth before moving to help collect Cazrel’s scattered pages.

“So how’d that petition go?”

“Let’s just say I should’ve heeded your warning.”

“Fucking really?” Cazrel looked up at him, “They actually locked ya up for that?”

“Yep, and you were right, worst three days of my life.”

“Oh I’m gonna strangle that-” Cazrel stopped himself mid-sentence and breathed in. “Okay…so what brings ya here anywho?”

“I was actually on my way out, I’m trying to adopt the kid that got his wing severed but they delayed me by a week.”

“A whole ass week? What lazy flank couldn’t approve a single adoption form?”

“I don’t know, the mare that told me that’s how long it’ll take to get a replacement.”

”Oh of course, oh of fucking course.” Had Cazrel not been holding his growing stack of papers he would’ve faceplamed. “What else is new?”

“Well seeing as you asked,” Drill remarked.

“Oh no.”

“She also told me to take it up with the head of the office, but Ballpoint’s not taking public meetings.”

“Okay that much I knew, but ye-actually no, no fuck this.” Cazrel plucked the last of the papers from Drill’s hooves and set them on a nearby table. “Ya got screwed over once I ain’t letting it happen’ again.”

Drill raised an eye at that. “How? Didn’t you say you only recently came here? I might not know how the power structure here works but I wouldn’t think a Diamidian would hold that kind of power, no offence.”

“Oh none taken, none at all. Remember when I said I’d threatened to blow the whistle on Queen Eudora before she locked me up?

“Yes?”

“Well guess what? I was her general secretary.”

Drill’s eyes widened in not so much shock as surprise and suddenly a lot more made sense. Most especially his foul mouth.

“Yeah, turns out running a city requires some-creature with experience, that suddenly makes this random mutt valuable.”

Slowly Drill’s mouth curved into a sinister and knowing smile.

“Huh…you know you raise a good point.”

“Damn straight, now wait here, I’m about to teach you the perks of favouritism.”

Author's Note

Known as "The first traitor," Cazrel Manx was perhaps the first mutt to speak out against Diamidia's changing government from a constitutional monarchy to an absolute one where
Queen Eudora Clawthorne had total control over everything.