My Little Metro

by redsquirrel456

Chapter 12

My Little Metro: Chapter 12

“Plans were made to go wrong.”

I felt the hope I’d gathered in my short time with the inspiring ponies of Freehaven slipping through my hooves. Without my clothes and barding, and only the thin steel of my cage sheltering me from Ruby Red’s baleful gaze, I felt naked and vulnerable, which was no doubt her intent. The light from above framed her body in such a way that she seemed larger and more powerful than she really was, and the fact that she was a unicorn wasn’t lost on me. I felt too shocked to look away, and the gravity of my situation hadn’t sunk in. I must not have looked frightened enough, because after only a few seconds of my staring, her eyes narrowed and she pointed a hoof right at me.

“What the fuck are you looking at, trash?” she barked, and her horn glowed brighter. I heard the tell-tale shimmer of magic as the top of my cage was pulled aside, and then something tugged at my hooves. A purple glow had enshrouded them, spreading quickly over my whole body. Without warning I was yanked into the air, in spite of my sudden struggles. Ruby Red levitated me up to the catwalk, letting me get a good look at her face. In fact, she wasn’t ugly in the traditional sense at all. It was the way she looked at me that was hideous.

Thwack.

Her hoof met my face at bone-breaking speed, sending me spinning end over end in mid-air. The entire left side of my face erupted in throbbing pain, feeling like every nerve ending had been squeezed until they popped. Before I could recover a brutal buck to my chest sent me flying across the room, driving the wind from my lungs. If I wasn’t awake before, I was now. Ruby Red didn’t give a moment to recover, yanking me back forward until my stomach collided with her outstretched hoof. That single punch seemed to shatter my insides. My eyes bulged and I felt what little contents I had in my stomach shoved up into my throat and out my mouth, splattering over the bottom of my cage. Even then Ruby Red wasn’t done with me; she slammed me onto the catwalk and gestured to her two lackeys, who came forward and commenced a brutal beatdown. I could do nothing except curl up and protect my head as I squeaked and whimpered, unable to draw a breath. I was still so thirsty; the world spun around me and I could only just register Ruby Red screaming in my ear.

“You do not look anypony in the eyes! EVER! Understand?! You do not speak! You do not think! You do nothing until you are told!”

I didn’t know if she wanted me to agree or not. I couldn’t, not through the flurry of hooves that drove spikes of pain up and down my body, stomping my legs, crushing my back, thumping my ribs. On and on it seemed to go, until even the pain seemed to drift away and I was left curled on the floor, waiting in dull silence for it to end. Just water. Water was all I wanted. Just a drop... I didn’t care how long I was beaten if I could just get my thirst quenched.

Then, abruptly, they let up. Ruby Red leaned down close enough that I felt her breath on my brow. It made my skin crawl.

My eyes rose up to look into hers.

“Wrong,” she said, and planted her hoof on the back of my head, driving my face into the catwalk with a loud bang, hard enough to make my vision spin. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus. What did she want me to do? I’d do it. Just get me some water...

She pushed my head up again. I felt something warm dribbling from my nose. I didn’t even mean to do it this time. I was looking around, all over, unfocused, and my gaze brushed hers. I was dizzy from-

“WRONG!”

My face met metal again, and this time I clenched my eyes shut and kept them that way. My ears were still ringing from her barking shout, which I was sure she magically enhanced like in the tunnels around Bucklyn. She lifted my head once more, and I still kept my eyes shut. My lip had been split open, and I dared to try and lick the blood off. I wasn’t punished for that at least. I was just so thirsty I found it hard to care about anything else...

“You’re a slow learner,” I heard Ruby’s husky, malicious voice whisper in my ear. “I like slow learners. We spend so much more time together.”

Just for spite she slammed my face into the catwalk again.

“You pathetic wad of scum. I don’t know who you think you are, but you better lose this attitude of yours. I don’t like the way you look at me. Staring is rude. Got it?”

Whack. Into the catwalk again. My nose felt dull and brittle. One more good hit like that and I was sure it’d snap.

“I got your name!” Her hoof thumped into my already aching ribs. I whimpered and curled into a ball. I’d broken a lot of bones already, and all at once. I didn’t want to repeat the experience so soon.

“I got your number! You can cry all you want but I will not have mercy on you! You don’t deserve anything except my hoof in your face! You best unfuck yourself right quick, you little shit, or I’ll personally rip out your eyeballs and shove them down your throat! You think I won’t? You think I won’t?!”

She lifted me with magic once again and threw me over the edge of the catwalk. My thigh I collided hard with the edge of the cage as I flopped in like so much dead weight, landing on the small puddle of my own greasy vomit. Somehow that last crash into the metal floor hurt even more than the beating I’d received earlier, like my body decided just then to wake up and notice it was in pain. The cage slammed shut above me with a deafening, ominous clang, trapping me once more with my own thoughts. Ruby Red’s voice bellowed out over the expanse of the room, echoing, ringing in my ears, its constant noise reminding us that we were trapped. No escape.

“If any of you pieces of crap even think of acting up, you will get the same treatment and worse! Because of this little act of insubordination, you all will receive no rations for the next three days! If I find anything more than water going in your mouths, I’ll rip out your bellies and get it back myself!”

They began to walk out. I heard Ruby Red’s voice filter back to me before they left. The empty silence (even the crying pony from before had stopped) made it easier to hear.

“I don’t like the way that one looks at me. Keep him close. If he acts up I’ll deal with him myself.”

The door slammed shut, and murky darkness returned. I listened for Sidewinder, but he’d gone quiet.

The crying pony sniffled again.

Water...

/-/-/-/

Everything ached. Ruby Red’s beating had done a number on me.

How many hours had passed already? I didn’t know. There were no clocks. No dimming of the already feeble lights. Just the smell of my dry vomit, the blood in my nose, and the quiet sniffling of somepony a few cages to my right. I think that lack of knowing how much time had gone by was the worst part.

“Lockbox,” Sidewinder said, breaking through my haze of self-pity. “You alive over there?”

“As much as I can be,” I croaked through a parched throat, shifting to sit on my belly. The vomit in my hair crackled and flaked. I knew I wasn’t going to get a bath anytime soon. Might as well enjoy the irony of being as disgusting on the outside as I felt on the inside. I knew I felt guilty, somewhere back there. But it was buried under layers of frigid anger. Everywhere I turned, ponies, the ponies I wanted to save, hurt each other. Hurt me.

At least Sunny Side was still alive. I wondered if, due to that blind loyalty friends have, he’d try to rescue me. I hoped he wouldn’t. He’d die in the attempt, unless Tracer and Nopony helped. And since Tracer was probably the one who’d almost blown me up, and Nopony was inscrutable, I didn’t count on them much. Instead I hoped Sunny would go home. Find Starry Gaze, and admit his feelings. Live the life I should’ve lived, instead of charging out like a madpony and careening through haunted tunnels.

“Stop thinking so much Lockbox, this wasn’t your fault,” Sidewinder said, rattling his cage to get my attention. I got the uncomfortable feeling he’d actually just read my mind. “Eventually your brain will get full of thoughts and collapse under its own weight. Nothing’s worse than a bloated brain. Except if you fry it with mushrooms. Just sear it on the outside, try to ignore the squishy texture...”

“Sidewinder,” I said quietly to the dark, “if I could get to you now, I’d be wringing your throat.” What was one more kill on my growing list?

“Mmm. You’d have to catch me first. I guess I can’t blame you, but I’d still have to kill you.”

“Will you two shut up?!” a new voice barked from my left. A stallion’s voice. “You!” he said, shouting towards me. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? It’s your fault we’ll be starving for the next three days!”

“Hey, don’t blame the new guy,” Sidewinder spoke up. “Ruby Red’s a bitch. If all little Lockbox did was curl up on the floor and cry, she’d still take our rations. She’ll find a reason to be cruel, don’t you worry.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, stalker!” the other colt snapped.

I didn’t feel like intervening and stayed quiet, listening to the two of them go back and forth. I crawled away from my stinking puddle, leaning against the cold bars. The cold pushed right through my furry coat, chilling me but keeping me awake and my mind off the pain. Dry blood had caked over several parts of my face, and my nose made a disturbing whistle every time I breathed through it. The cuts and bruises were all keenly felt, as if they were each their own major injury. They clamored for attention as I closed my eyes, trying to find some escape. Where was the yellow haired, pink maned pony of my dreams? The thoughts of home that were supposed to comfort me? I latched onto a memory of the gentle lights of Exiperia, hopeful and sputtering in the shadows. I clutched it to my breast and let it seep inside. Since I lived, I couldn’t wallow. I had to put my thoughts to escape.

I felt sick and disoriented, and surprised to be alive, but I hadn’t forgotten what I was here to do. I’d been put on this path for a reason, and to do it I couldn’t give in to despair. But getting worked up wouldn’t get me anywhere right now. I just had to wait for an opportunity and get out then. Perhaps Sidewinder would... no, that damn fool would sell me out for a hoofful of bullets. I couldn’t depend on anypony but myself in here.

“Hello,” a voice rasped to my right. I turned and saw an older earth stallion in the cage next to me, greyed and stooped, strangely slumped for how thin he was. The wispy remains of his mane looked like cobwebs glued to his skull. He seemed to have had a lifetime’s worth of secrets ripped out of him, leaving nothing but this bony husk. Perhaps I’d look the same if all the secrets I’d locked away were torn from me.

“Hello,” I answered, since I had nothing better to do.

“My name is Overdrive. But the ponies here call me Bad Omen,” he said, and when he grinned I saw he was missing several teeth. “So, what are you in for? Tell me and I’ll tell you.”

“Why associate with a bad omen?” I asked. I didn’t need or want to get too attached to ponies here; I’d be leaving soon anyway.

“Misery loves company,” the old pony wheezed. “And besides, it looks like you’ve had your share of bad luck already. It’d be a feat for me to add to it.”

“Maybe,” I said quietly. “Maybe you just don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“Well, you can tell old Overdrive. Not like the bandits here really care. They won’t be coming to me for information. I’m on the way out, as it is... been in this cage for... oh... I don’t remember. Must be over two weeks. Right? Right...” He sucked on his gums, scuffing the floor with his hoof. “They’re probably just gonna let me die here. Figure sooner or later they’ll stop feedin’ me. I’m too old an’ decrepit to do much work.”

“I’m sorry,” I said in a whisper, not knowing what else to say. This was the Metro. Blind cruelty was around every corner. Damn these bandits. I felt the anger well up again. I wasn’t angry that bad things were happening. The anger came from the fact that it was ponies that were responsible. Ponies like the ones back home in Exiperia. How did ponies separated by only a matter of kilometers turn out so different? Were these the ones I wanted to save, to preserve? No! What kind of Equestria could be made from ponies that did this to their brothers? I knew what Hunter would do if he was here, in this cage. He’d find the quickest way out and escape, and kill as many of these bastards on the way as he could.

“You don’t look like a normal wanderer,” Omen whispered. “Got too many of your teeth. And the brightness in your eyes. You’re still young.”

“Old enough. Nothing stays pure long in the Metro.”

“Mmm, what I’d give to believe otherwise,” the old pony grunted. “Listen, I’ve been here a while. In the ‘service business’ you could say. Started out after I sold myself to Hoofsa to earn my keep. Changed hooves a few times. ”

“Willingly?” I gasped. “But how could you do that to yourself?” My mind flew back to the dark tunnels of Trotsky Freehaven, more ponies I’d left behind in my mad quest. They’d get no help from me or any other pony, yet they chose to live on the verge of death because they had nothing else to hope for. The injustice made me wish I had my gun. My face fell as pragmatism replaced indignation.

Omen saw the change in my expression, and smiled sadly. “Yep, that’s the long an’ short of it. Nowhere to go. Nopony to take me in. Bad luck, or fate, or what have you, saw fit to land me here. Where I’ll end the rest of my days.”

“Who... were you before?” I asked.

“Nopony special, like most,” he answered. “My mother sold herself to get by and got stuck with me. Heh, all but dumped me soon as I could put my own food in my mouth. Didn’t have the self-esteem to hold my own in one of the gangs. No real useful skills to offer free stations. Too much pride to be cannon fodder for the Republic or the Monarchy. So here I am.”

I almost gagged, wishing the old coot would stop talking. My thoughts were bleak enough without the horror of the Metro making itself personal like this. A pony who was born worthless, treated the same way, and was going to die alone. Why fight for a world like this? “I hate to think what a cutie mark you acquired...” I said without thinking.

“Heh, that’s the damndest thing. It’s a screw! See?” The old pony turned his flank to me. Sure enough, a single screw was emblazoned on the shaggy fur. “I got it one day when I was fixin’ something up for a master of mine back in my Hoofsa days. Don’t even remember what. Funny, never did do much with screws after that day.”

“It means you’re screwed. Like the rest of us,” Sidewinder said with a disturbing chuckle.

I closed my eyes tight, folding my ears back. I didn’t want to hear what this pony had to say about a wasted life. But I knew I had to listen. It was my special talent to keep things safe and secret. Including stories.

“Let me give you some advice,” Omen said. “They’re probably gonna assign you and that other earth pony over there to a work detail sooner or later. Either that or keep you in the rec room for passing out drinks. One thing I’ve learned from all these years of servitude is keep your Celestia-damned head down. Literally an’ figuratively.”

“I’m getting out of here sooner or later,” I said with all my confidence. “My friends will be here soon to rescue me. I’m being protected, apparently.” Though the voice in my dreams had yet to show me it was competent in that area.

“That’s what they all say... some of them make it, some don’t,” Omen replied, which I supposed was generous of him. “But while you’re here, keep yourself to yourself. Don’t go lookin’ ponies in the eye like you did with Ruby Red. You may think you’re worth somethin’, but they sure as hell don’t. So act like you agree.”

“You’re helping me quite a bit for somepony who’s going to die soon.”

“Nothin’ to lose, huh?” he said with a half-toothless grin. I was astounded. Even in this dank pit, a pony could show what kindness he could. But the good ponies rotted in the filth while evil ones seemed to reign supreme. Ray Drop was eaten alive while Sixpence roamed free. Hoofsa and the Monarchy had tanks, while Exiperia faced extinction. Damn it all. What made this worth it beyond my home’s survival, if we were going to die or be absorbed by a stronger station someday? I squeezed my eyes shut. This pony didn’t deserve this. None of them did. Or did they? Who was to say other horrible monsters hiding in pony skin weren’t stuck here with us by fate and circumstance?

“Give... give me something,” I whispered. “Anything. A keepsake. Do you have one?”

Omen sucked his gums again, fixing me with a strange stare. “Whaddaya want one of those for?”

“Because you’re going to die soon, and I don’t think you want all that’s left of you to just rot on the floor of that cage.”

Omen muttered to himself, looking to one side as though another pony sat next to him, arguing points and counterpoints. He’s making fun of me! No, no, it’s a good idea, why not take a chance? No reason to trust him, he’s in the same boat... and yet...

I watched the old coot have his insane little argument, and then he turned back to me.

“Well. It ain’t gonna help either of us. I’ve already given you my words. S’all a lot of ponies have in the Metro.”

“There must be something.”

The old pony raised his belly, which I saw hadn’t even been stretched to fullness in a long, long time. My own stomach turned, and I wondered if I was looking at a vision of myself in the future. I pushed that thought far, far from my mind.

Omen plucked up a small metal screw and tossed it my way. “Thought about shoving that in a guard’s eye, once upon a time. But never worked up the courage. Guess it’s my fate to fade instead of burn out.”

I plucked it up and hid it in my mane. It was far too small to be used as anything but what it was meant to be: a reminder. Something for my box.

“I’ll keep it as long as I can,” I promised. Omen laughed at me, and even that seemed to tire him out.

“There’s millions of screws in the world, boy. I’m sure any one will do. Just mind you don’t forget the reasons behind it.”

Tears began to stream from his eyes with abandon. Removing that screw seemed to have unplugged some barrier he’d been using to hold back such emotion, and I found black humor in that so much moisture was held up inside such a dried up pony.

“Just mind you don’t forget,” he muttered.

I nodded and turned away.

I liked to think, as I closed my eyes, if the yellow pegasus were here she’d be smiling at me.

/-/-/-/

“Up.”

My eyes opened.

Ruby Red stood over my cage, glaring down at me. The same two bruisers from before flanked her, eyeing me with just as much contempt as she. Before I could even move, the top of the cage was yanked away and her magic enveloped me again, and pulled up onto the catwalk. I closed my eyes, but one of the bruisers still punched me in the face before I landed. I kept my eyes firmly closed. At least this way, I didn’t have to lower my head like I actually respected these mongrels.

“Up.”

I stood up and felt something clamp down around my neck, and then yank forward. I gagged and my eyes shot open. One of the bruisers had me on a leash and jerked on it to make me move. Ruby Red took up position behind me on my left flank.

“Count yourself lucky. You’re not being put to work yet,” Ruby Red snarled.

“Can I come?” Sidewinder asked.

“Shut up!” Ruby Red barked, and kept walking. Apparently she was in a hurry and had no time to waste on frivolous cruelty. We went up some stairs and into a long, cold hallway lit with red emergency lights.

“We’ve got questions for you, trash,” Ruby Red said in a growl.

I’m going to kill you. Somehow.

“I normally wouldn’t even care. But Auntie Buttercup herself wants to ask you a few questions.”

This is twice now I’ve met you. Twice you’ve made my life hell. That’s more than anypony else out here. I’m going to kill you.

“Eyes down, trash!”

She walloped me on the back of the head, with such force I sprawled onto the floor. Her magic yanked me up and kept me moving. We passed through a series of unused offices, though out of one of the empty rooms another pony poked his head, rubbing his eyes. Probably just finished a nap. He was dirty and tough, like a vision of Sidewinder if he didn’t even care to crack a joke, but he gave Ruby Red a respectful and demure bow as she passed by. I could hear the sound of raucous music and talking coming from nearby, and another door was pushed open. I squinted against the sudden, bright lights that invaded my vision, and beyond I perceived a wide-open space filled with many ponies. I wasn’t given time to contemplate; Ruby Red yanked me along. The room was split into three levels slanting down to the floor, and we skirted around the top tier of catwalks. Stretching from the first to second were huge, semi-circular machines... giant turbines, perhaps once used to power this facility. Now just places for bandits to perch on while they went about their debauched business. A few pegasi took advantage of the open space and circled high above the revelry. Sunny Side would love to have a room this huge. Another instance of the Metro being unfair; it figured the ponies who didn’t deserve it got one of the best living spaces for pegasi.

The ponies scattered all over the floor mocked the very idea of organization. The only thing that seemed to unite them was that they all hadn’t yet devolved to the point of shooting each other. This building had once been used to treat water and sewage for the city of Stalliongrad. Now it was just a playpen, with scattered tents illuminated by drooping strings of sprite lights dotting the floor. Clumps of badly dressed, almost uniformly scowling ponies wandered back and forth, arguing, chatting, brawling. There was barely a spark of electricity to be found here, which was ironic given this whole room once provided power we could barely dream of now. I heard the tell-tale whirr of a generator from somewhere below, coming from a large tent set in between two turbines on the second floor that seemed to act as a bar of sorts. Drunken and rowdy bandits wandered in and out. In the middle of the large bottom floor, I spotted a rickety circle of scrap metal, brightly lit, and two big ponies were viciously beating one another inside. Their comrades cheered and booed with the ebb and flow of the fight, waving hoofuls of what looked like old world money. I supposed if there was nothing else to place bets with, you used whatever came to mind.

Apart from that, the bandits who weren’t watching found other methods of entertainment. I couldn’t remember seeing two mares kissing one another with such drunken fervor before, but I saw it here. One pair of ponies hadn’t even bothered to find a room.

“Quit gawking! Is that all you’re good for?! Staring when you’re not supposed to?”

The backs of my legs erupted with pain so sharp it felt as if they’d been ripped open. I collapsed onto my hindquarters and shouted, which earned me another good clout on the back of the head. Ruby Red hovered over me, levitating a baton next to her head. I realized I’d made the mistake of looking up again.

“I should rip out those eyes of yours,” she grated. “You don’t need ‘em anyway.” Her baton pushed against my forehead. “Something about you is familiar, you know? But I can’t put my hoof on it. I... I hate that. I really, really do.”

She slammed the baton down square between my eyes. “And you’re still fucking staring.”

This time she took the leash, jerking it with her magic until it choked me. I was led around to another door at the end of the large room, up some stairs and past several more rooms filled with decrepit, dilapidated machinery with no discernible use anymore. Some of them had been deliberately smashed open, presumably to be scavenged for parts in simpler, more practical machines. Really, I was using all these distractions to keep my mind off the fact I was in severe pain with no chance of relief any time soon, and blood was coming down my face into my eyes again. But my eyes stayed down as Omen advised me, and every time I saw Ruby Red’s hooves moving at the edge of my vision, I entertained vicious fantasies of breaking all her legs and leaving her for a demon on the surface.

Soon, we came to a simple wooden door that was surprisingly clean and polished, featuring a small bar with the word “Manager” engraved on it.

Ruby Red waggled the baton in front of my face. “Be on your best behavior. As in keep your head down and don’t say a fucking word unless you’re told to, or I’ll shove this up your ass.”

Don’t say a word. Don’t look up. Keep a low profile. I wondered if it would be possible to blow up the turbines somehow and take out all these ponies in one fell swoop. The door was pushed open and one of Ruby’s bruisers kicked me inside. I fell onto a dirty carpet, faded and red like drying blood. I’d never actually felt a carpet before, so I took my time getting up, letting my bloodied and pained cheek rest against the soft surface, rubbing it with my hoof as I stood, making sure my eyes were on the floor.

“Auntie?” Ruby Red called, and her voice had lost some of its hard edge. “The pony you wanted is right here.”

“Thank you dearie,” a lilting, high pitched voice replied. It sounded much more gentle than many other voices I’d heard in the Metro. “Would you and the boys be willing to stick around? You never know when these new arrivals need some motivation.”

“Sure.” Ruby Red stepped away and her thugs stood with her by the door. Another pony trotted towards me. The sound of their hooves making a soft ‘thump’ instead of a normal, hard clop made my ears twitch.

“Stand,” the voice commanded. I stood. “Look at me.” I looked.

Before me stood a middle aged unicorn mare. I was struck by how healthy she looked, as if she’d never breathed a drop of tainted air in her life. A soft caramel coat helped contrast the creamy mane that had been styled to spill over one of her sea green eyes. She had a bit of pudge on her, testament to how well fed she was, and I noticed her cutie mark was that of actual buttercup flowers when she began to walk a tight circle around me. Not exactly the spitting image of a cruel, callous leader of blackguards.When she left my sight, I glanced quickly around the room. It was large, paneled with rotting wood and decaying, flowery wallpaper. A large desk covered in maps and notes dominated the back part of the room, along with bookcases and smaller tables likewise littered with everything from spare weapons to oddly sentimental pictures of Buttercup herself with other ponies. On one wall I saw a map of Stalliongrad, and another held a single painting. It looked like Whitetail Wood, before it’d been burned to a cinder. It was all a little on the gaudy side, treading a fine line between practicality and showponyship.

“You really need to get some food in you. You must come from outside the Ring, being practically skin and bones,” she gently chided. “Ruby, get the poor dear something to eat from my table.”

Ruby’s perpetual scowl didn’t fade as she quickly crossed the room and levitated a tray of fried mushrooms to me. Before my very eyes, Auntie Buttercup used her own magic to heat up the food. I was still horribly thirsty, but even as I realized that, a cup of water hovered in front of my face. It didn’t have a film over it, neither did it smell strange. She must have it imported from Hoofsa or the Monarchy; there was no way parts of this treatment plant still worked... was there?

“Drink,” Buttercup cooed.

Monstrously thirsty though I was, I didn’t drink.

“Please?” Buttercup asked with a little pout. “We’re just here to talk, dear. No need to spurn hospitality.”

I grudgingly took the water and sipped it, and then my body’s needs took over and I chugged it down as fast as I could before Ruby Red could snatch it away and beat me with the cup or whatever she might be planning. I held the cup in my hooves and looked down into it.

“Well. Now that that’s out of the way... feel free to ask for more, by the way... I’ve got a few questions for you, ah... I’m sorry, what was your name?”

I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill every last one of you.

Ruby Red levitated her baton in front of me again. “Answer her, you little prick.”

Especially you.

“... Turnstile,” I muttered.

I was rewarded with a baton to the face, though I wasn’t sure why.

“Ruby!” Buttercup scolded her minion. “Did I say you could abuse my guests?”

“Sorry, Auntie,” Ruby demurred, lowering her baton. I felt Buttercup’s hoof gently touch my cheek, lifting my head again until I looked into that disarmingly kind gaze.

“Don’t mind her,” she whispered. Poor choice of words, since I couldn’t even feel half my face anymore. “But you see, she’s got a very good ear for lies. And so do I. I noticed the hesitation. I see your cutie mark. Your name isn’t Turnstile.”

“What’s it matter?” I rasped. “You’re probably going to kill me anyway.”

“Why, I just like to know how to properly address my guests!” Buttercup said, raising her eyebrows as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I know what you’re thinking, little pony. You see me and you think, what is this mare thinking? Who does she think she is? She leads these ruffians and I don’t have to answer her anything, because she’s a bandit and won’t be nice no matter what I do.” I noticed her voice was low, with that soothing bass undertone every experienced comforter had. Starry Gaze often used that tone for Sunny Side when he needed cheering up, or when I felt especially melancholy. How I wished to go back to the days when all I had to look forward to was being slightly aggravated by her overbearing concern. Now I was standing in a room full of killers and any wrong moves would get my bones broken.

“Well, let me tell you,” Buttercup whispered, levitating a cloth and wiping some of the blood from my face as she rested my chin on her hooves. “We don’t operate like that in my Fort. If you help me, I can help you. You’re young, and strong... I can see that. You don’t deserve to be stuck in a cage until you’re old and useless. You don’t understand that this room is the safest one in the Fort. When you’re with me, you can talk, my little pony. Not just blurt out what I want to hear. We can... open avenues of communication. But we can’t do that unless we know who we are, can we? And I need a name. A real name.”

Fancy words that meant she wanted as much leverage and information as possible. But somehow, her velvety voice gave me something approaching comfort. Those low, rumbling tones made me shiver in her grasp. And really, fake names, real names, what did it matter... it felt so hard to be defiant and enthusiastic when I was in pain and weary from the abuse that’d been heaped on me since this journey started. I rolled my eyes, and noticed Ruby Red twitch at my insubordination.

“Lockbox,” I said lamely.

“Lockbox,” Buttercup whispered, testing my name as she continued to gently dab at my wounds with the rag, slowly clearing the blood caked around my eyes. She used her magic, leaving her hooves free to hold my face, and keep my gaze on hers. “That’s a good name. Well, Lockbox, you’re not exactly like all the other ponies my boys and girls drag in here. Do you know where we found you?”

“Outside Trotsky Freehaven,” I muttered, sitting stone still as she cleaned me ever so gently. I willed myself not to be lulled into false security. “Probably in the middle of a bunch of dead nosalises.”

“Precisely. Somehow, you weren’t hurt too badly. A little singed. Some bite marks. Nothing we couldn’t clear up.”

Ah. So that was how I hadn’t bled to death before I got here. Didn’t seem to serve much purpose, except some lame attempt to force some gratitude from me. Saving my life and then beating me to within an inch of it didn’t seem like the best way to endear a pony to your cause, if this Auntie Buttercup had one.

“And in your bag, you had... Ruby Red, be a dear and fetch his bag?”

If you even touched Ray Drop’s picture, I’ll rip your damn heads off.

But my saddlebags were surprisingly intact. It was what came out of them when Ruby Red overturned them that shocked me: everything I’d gathered up until this point, completely untouched. Buttercup watched closely as the items spilled onto the floor, sans my cartridges. Instead of poor, now I was impoverished. Ruby Red levitated what didn’t fit it in with the regular supplies: the picture of Ray Drop and Cherry Pie came out first, making me twitch.

“Friend of yours?” Buttercup said with a teasing smile. “Little young in this picture, isn’t she?”

Next came the Guide. I tried to keep my expression still.

“Now this is a real treasure,” said Buttercup. “We couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but it’s obviously a map of some kind. There’s magic in this paper, Lockbox. Magic normal earth ponies don’t just carry around.”

And then came Hunter’s talisman. It took all my willpower not to jump up and grab it.

“And this. This is the symbol of the Rangers,” Buttercup lectured, tapping the floating talisman. She took it from Ruby’s magical grip and floated it in front of my face. The pony skull flanked by lightning bolts stared sightlessly back at me.

“You’re not a Ranger, Lockbox. Are you? Because Rangers aren’t very friendly to us here. They shoot us when they can. And we shoot back.”

“I’m not a Ranger,” I said, not because I was afraid of dying, but because it was the truth.

“No,” Buttercup agreed quietly. “But that just makes it even more strange. What is this, Lockbox? What’s that map? Mementos? Are you friends with a Ranger? But nopony who’s not a Ranger is known to carry one of these. Rangers are proud of themselves, and don’t just let anypony in. Did you, perhaps, steal this?”

I gave her a sharp look and she relented.

“All right, all right. You didn’t steal it. But the question remains where you got it. I want to know. Rangers aren’t exactly on speaking terms with us here. I need to know what they’re planning, what they’re doing. You need to not get your kneecaps busted.”

I said nothing, and stared straight ahead once again. My breathing began to quicken. Buttercup didn’t appreciate my defiance. But no matter how nicely I was treated, I’d given my word. I’d failed so many ponies before. I wasn’t going to fail Hunter. Not this time. I wasn’t going to break all my promises... this was the only one I could keep with certainty. No matter what, I wouldn’t divulge the secrets of the Rangers to a bunch of bandits. I needed time. Time to think. Had to keep them guessing.

“Lockbox,” Buttercup purred. “Come now. You’re not a Ranger. You won’t be betraying anypony. I can make life easy for you here.” She moved the rag to begin cleaning off the vomit that had caked into my fur. “Or I can make it very hard. I control this place. And everypony in it. If you want an easy life during your stay here, all you need to do is cooperate. We’re ponies! We love cooperation.”

“So what? I join you and become a bandit or something?” I huffed. Buttercup smiled and pushed a strand of my mane out of my eyes. It had gotten longer since my journey started, I realized. I probably looked like a proper stallion now.

“Something like that. I’m not averse to getting new blood. We need it now more than ever. Especially your kind. The kind with... potential. I don’t want it going to Hoofsa, where you’ll be a servant for your whole life. Or the Lunar Republic, who are all silly foals playing with guns. Or to that crazy fool King Pleiades. As an earth pony, the best you’d get is a spot on their suicide squads. No, you need something that’ll give you a little more... freedom of movement.”

“I have a home already,” I said, almost growling, still staring straight ahead. “I’m not as much a drifter as you think.”

“Then tell me your story, Lockbox,” Buttercup cooed, sitting down next to me. “There’s a reason I’m called Auntie here. Unlike everypony else I take care of ponies who take care of me. You saw all my boys and girls having fun out there, didn’t you?”

Getting ready to rape and murder no doubt. Psyching themselves up for a day of pillaging with mindless sex and booze. Buttercup would throw me to the wolves if my next words displeased her. I saw the slight tightness in her expression, the way her eyes were ever so gently narrowed. She wanted me to spill my guts, or she’d spill them for me. Fortunately, I had enough anger and willpower in my heart to see through her lies. Hunter would never tell me to give in. My home still needed a savior. Buttercup thought she’d picked up a stray with a few secrets. But I wasn’t so simple.

“I don’t betray ponies who I’ve given my word to.”

“Then give your word to me.”

I took a deep, bracing breath, preparing to welcome my old friend pain once again.

“No.”

I waited for the bone-cracking blows to come. For them to stomp on my head until my skull broke and my nose was crushed. I waited for my teeth to be knocked loose and my tongue to be ripped out, hooks stuck into my skin, or whatever delightful tortures they’d thought up. I blinked when it didn’t come.

“All right!” Buttercup said cheerfully. I felt my insides curdle. Somehow I felt even more wrong and sick than if they’d started beating me all over again. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, was it? It was one thing to be expecting pain and then have it finally come, but for that anxiety to never be fruitful... my body had a hard time relaxing from all the terrors I’d been dreaming up in those few, short seconds. I looked at Ruby Red, who was dutifully stoic. I turned my ears and listened for the bruisers at the door to stomp up and commence their bone-crushing. Or even for Buttercup to gore me with her horn. Nothing! Maddeningly, confusingly, nothing! I didn’t look forward to getting hurt, or going back to my dingy cage, but this strangeness I felt was somehow even worse. What drove a pony more mad, the expectation of pain, or the pain itself?

“Uh... all right?” I asked, sounding like a simpleton. “Then... what now?”

“Nothing!” Buttercup said, as if offended I’d suggest otherwise. “Nothing at all. I’m not going to do anything. What happens next is up to you, Lockbox. I don’t know anything about you. And you’re not willing to tell me. In my experience, a pony will say anything to get out of being hurt. It works with the ones you can drive into a corner. The ones who have no other recourse. But if I want reliable information from ponies like you... ponies who stick to their guns... there has to be a little bit of trust too, don’t you think?”

I continued to watch her warily as she levitated my things back to me, slapping my saddlebags onto my back.

“I’m going to try and get you to trust me Lockbox. There’s a lot ponies like us can do together. Now, I can’t exactly let you leave, but you have my word... such as it is... that you won’t be harmed. My ponies will do nothing as long as you don’t step on too many hooves. Ruby Red will be here to answer any questions you have.”

“I will?” the blood red pony asked, looking like she’d rather jam rusty nails into her eyes.

“Yes,” Buttercup answered in a strained tone, casting a meaningful glance her way. “You will. You know, show him the ropes, make sure he doesn’t do anything... untoward.”

Like try to escape. So I had some freedom of movement, but I’d have eyes on me at all times. I’d have to try and take a chance.

“And what am I supposed to do?” I asked. Buttercup sidled up next to me, curling her tail around my hind legs and throwing a friendly hoof over my shoulders.

“I don’t know! That’s your job, Lockbox. Get a drink. Take some time to think. Grab a mare... or a stallion, if that’s your style. The girls here don’t sell themselves cheap, but I’m sure a strapping young thing like you can find a good time... you know, once you stop bleeding. It’s on me for tonight!”

She began pushing me to the door. “Ruby~!” she sang. “Make sure our guest has some fun. And doesn’t leave.”

“Or I break his kneecaps?”

“Or you break his kneecaps.”

My throat felt too tight to gulp.

/-/-/-/

“Make any sudden moves and you’re dead. If you stick next to me, nopony’ll bother you. If you bother me, I’ll ram my baton down your throat. You’re no longer trash. You’re dead weight, and I gotta drag you around.”

Ruby Red continued to threaten me with the baton as we stood over the raucous floor of what she called the “Rec Room.” It still amazed me a place where ponies once did honest work and tended to those massive turbines was now home to all this debauchery. I wasn’t sure if there was some kind of twenty-four seven party being held here or there were just that many bored bandits in the Metro, because the crowd didn’t seem to have abated. I worried about my chances of getting out of here unscathed; one wrong move and I’d end up back in my cell, and I doubted Buttercup would be merciful twice over.

At least I wasn’t bleeding anymore. Ruby Red had me visit the infirmary first, not because she cared about my well-being, but because a bleeding pony could probably be a horrible vector for disease. Given the way these ponies behaved, I was amazed they hadn’t all caught something horrible and died already. They didn’t have much in the way of magical healing at all, and I probably looked like a frail little colt swathed as I was in regular, non-magical bandages. Shocker injections had taken away the aches and pains, though.

“Are you listening?!” Ruby Red said, prodding me on the cheek where she’d decked me in Buttercup’s room. “I should be out there getting work done, but instead I have to babysit your skinny ass. Don’t screw up for both our sakes. Mostly yours. Just follow me, think about what Buttercup said, and keep your fucking mouth shut. I will not be held responsible for any incidents!”

She continued berating me, spitting angry curses as we descended to the second level, where one of the small bars was located. She dragged me up to the bar and slammed a hoof down, demanding some kind of strong drink, presumably to try and forget that she was supposed to look after me. Every other pony gave us a wide berth; it seemed they had at least some form of hierarchy if they recognized Ruby Red’s authority. Either that, or she was just that cruel and everypony had learned not to get on her bad side. I felt no guilt about ruining her evening; in fact, I hoped she got some kind food poisoning and died. I looked around at the bandits, who were slightly less raucous than on the main floor. They looked uniformly dirty, drunken, and disorganized. They proudly displayed their weapons and scars, with not a single pony failing to try and bluff his neighbors. The only meek ponies I noticed were servants, running drinks and messages back and forth. In our tent I saw mares forced to work as waitresses, relentlessly groped and shoved and insulted by the clientele. They might once have been comely, which is why I supposed they were chosen, but now they kept their eyes forward and endured the abuse with blank indifference. I forced myself to look away as one was pulled onto a drunken stallion’s lap, forced to put up with his clumsy attempts at fondling and his greasy tongue in her ear.

Most of the bandits were smoking heavily, causing a pall of grey filth to fill the top of the small tent. Other scents assaulted my nose: thick, heady alcohol, sweat (and lots of it) and curiously, the sharp aroma of ponies having sex somewhere nearby. The sounds, too, made my ears blush red hot. Curses and shouts echoed throughout the building, and even one or two gunshots failed to draw any attention. I felt dirty just being here, which was saying something in the Metro. These bandits were living off the fat of our higher society; I saw a Hoofsa banner hung proudly from the ceiling, with profane graffiti sprayed onto it. A picture of King Pleiades, leader of the Celestian Monarchy, sat as a very well used dart board in another corner, his impeccable mustache the target of much abuse. Other banners lay strewn about, from stations I didn’t know... though my eyes did linger on the wheat stalk of the plantations. All factions they simultaneously preyed upon and dealt with, depending on their mood. I noticed no signs of hostility towards the Lunar Republic. Perhaps, since the Republic (along with Hoofsa) was responsible for most of the slave trade, the bandits were more business partners than adversaries with them.

In minutes, I found myself wishing I was back in my cage. At least it was quiet there.

“Are you gonna get a fucking drink, or what?” Ruby Red demanded. “Buttercup said have fun. Or whatever the fuck. You realize ponies are staring at you, right?”

I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, my wide-eyed gawking at the trophies and debauchery earned me several onlookers myself. They were probably wondering where the bandages came from, and why I was with Ruby Red. She made no attempts to stop them; I suspected only actual assaults on my person would rouse her.

“So you’re in charge here?” I asked.

“Am I that fuckin’ obvious?” she growled in return. “Now order a drink. Stop looking like a virgin at an orgy. Loosen up. Or I’ll do it for you. With my stick in your ass.”

I didn’t doubt she’d do it, and hurriedly placed an order for “something alcoholic” to the bartender, who guffawed and slammed down a bottle of watery, ugly brown fluid. I suspected it was poison, and my suspicions were confirmed after drinking it. The bandits nearby found a great deal of amusement in my sputtering and coughing. I’d never had anything stronger than some celebratory mushroom vodka. In fact, I hadn’t been aware anything stronger could possibly exist.

Ruby Red ignored me, but one of the nearby ponies raised his glass to me. He was a scruffy, tough and lean green earth pony with eyes to match and an aquamarine mane, and wore thick black barding that was scarred and pitted over a leather jacket. The barding looked old enough to have been in service during the War... dirt scavenger. But weren’t we all?

“Hey, this shit kicks everyone’s ass, eh? Who’s the new guy, Ruby? He looks like he got in bed with you an’ lost.”

“Piss off, Squeaky!” Ruby Red shot back. “Buttercup’s orders. Don’t fucking touch him. He’s here to get a little slice of life.”

“Oooh, a new recruit, eh?” Squeaky wondered, sidling closer, raising an eyebrow and eyeing me with his bright eyes. He might have been handsome, if he wasn’t covered in tunnel grit and obviously a conceited murderer. “So, kiddo, what’s your poison? We got a choice selection of mares for ya. That’s usually the first choice of most new arrivals.”

I took one look at a passing servant, with her skinny legs and downcast eyes, and immediately felt like retching. I might as well hold one down and punch her in the face; at least then it would be honest abuse. Squeaky caught my glance and laughed, thumping me on the back.

“No, not those!” he said. “Celestia only knows what you’d catch. No, kid, if you’ve got Buttercup’s eye you deserve some’in’ better than what the rank-and-file gets. Some of our gals come straight from Connemara... they know ‘ow ta’ break a pony in and love doing it!”

“Quit fucking touching ‘im, Squeaky,” Ruby Red said, glowering over her magically levitated mug. “He’s a runty little tightass. Not worth your time. Where the fuck’s Candy Cane, anyway? I wanna get laid.”

“He’s on patrol, remember?” Squeaky waved a hoof in the air. “With the other, uh... undesirables movin’ in Auntie stepped up security while you were away.” He grinned, quite viciously. “Ah heard that little stunt at Bucklyn didn’t go so well? Some little squad of, what was it? Rangers? Broke right through your blockade. An’ Bucklyn an’ Hoofsa kicked your ass ta’ Canterlot an’ back.”

Ruby Red slowly lowered her glass until it rested on the bartop. She stared at Squeaky with such disdain and cold hostility I felt unsafe being between them, and slowly huddled up over the bar, praying fervently Ruby didn’t remember that I was one of those “Rangers” who’d penetrated her checkpoint. She must have played up the story to mitigate her failure to keep Bucklyn in a noose.

“You’d better watch your tongue, Squeaky,” she said, in a voice almost low enough to be inaudible. “It’ll get you in trouble.”

“It got me to be Group Captain of our ‘ole western guard. You know. The successful ones,” Squeaky answered with quiet confidence. Ruby Red’s horn began to glow, and Squeaky put his hoof over his knife.

“Go. Away. Now,” Ruby Red said in a voice as smooth as velvet laced with shards of glass. I huddled down as far as I could. Even a few of the other ponies nearby began to catch wind of what was happening, and scooted their chairs away as much as they could. I waited to hear the inevitable crash behind me. Instead, I heard Ruby Red sit back down. I looked at her, and she was smiling. Squeaky, too. The green earth pony shrugged and resumed his lounging.

“Not today,” he said.

“Not today,” Ruby Red agreed.

Squeaky looked away, though he sent glances towards me out of the corner of his eyes.

“Who’s that?” I wondered.

“Squeaky Clean. Keeps thinking that just because he’s in charge of a few gangs he’s tough shit. He may be on Buttercup’s good side, but I’m the real deal here. One of these days I’m gonna show him. He’ll be a stain on the floor.”

I quieted down and so did Ruby Red, who kept an eye on me to make sure I was still drinking and not making a fool of myself in front of her comrades. I wondered if Squeaky would be able to keep from challenging Ruby again. He wouldn’t.

“So you’re just keepin’ the little guy cooped up ‘ere ‘til you’re both shit-faced?” he spoke up again, sidling over once more.

“Go away,” Ruby Red commanded. Squeaky threw a hoof around my shoulders.

“Oh sure, sure. Can I take the kid with me?”

“I am not a kid,” I said. He ignored me.

“So you can do what?” Ruby Red snapped.

“Show ‘im a good time! Unlike what you’re doing. There’s more ta’ life than knowin’ ‘ow ta’ stab ponies in the face, Red. This guy needs time to think, right? He can’t do that until he knows what we ‘ave ta’ offer him! Come on. What’d you say your name was?”

“Lockbox,” I said dully. I was in for a long night, I knew it.

“You’re not going anywhere out of my sight,” Ruby Red said, seething as she levitated a bottle off the bar and trotted after us. “I don’t care about the dead weight. You’re the one I’m keeping an eye on.”

“Oh? As long as you keep your eyes where they’re supposed ta’ be, Red,” Squeaky snickered, waggling his flanks. Ruby Red barely contained herself from bringing her bottle down on his head. We passed a pair of brawling ponies, and a hard looking mare who scowled at me as I went by. We trotted down the stairs to the lower level, and I noticed several other smaller rooms along the walls, serving as card game areas, or private places for bandits who still had a sense of modesty when it came to rutting. We were surrounded by a sea of ponies who found their fun in inflicting pain and then feeding their own desires.

I had to escape. But how?

“C’mere, Lock,” Squeaky said, dragging me to the circular arena in the center of the room. A match had started up between two ponies, one pegasus mare and one earth stallion. Both of them were solid and muscular. I noticed that the pegasus wasn’t using her wings to gain an unfair advantage, and the earth pony apparently hadn’t figured out how to use the strength of the earth to hit harder than an average earth pony. They both stayed firmly on the ground, though all other bets seemed off; I saw them punching and kicking and bucking each other with unreserved ferocity while a small crowd cheered or booed depending on who they were betting on, and bloody scratches covered their bodies. Short of kicking each other between the legs, or clawing out each other’s eyes, they seemed perfectly willing to cause as much damage as was needed to win.

Squeaky pointed out the mare. “Check it out. Dazzle’s in good form.”

“No wings?” I asked.

“No wings, no magic. Just hooves. Keeps things simple,” Squeaky said. “Unicorns here don’t like it. Heh, unicorns hate anything that might not have as much magic as they like... but they’re welcome to join the Monarchy if they don’t like it here.”

The fight continued. Dazzle backed off and snorted, spitting blood. Her opponent had a long cut on one side of his face, and he slumped against the wall of the ring, panting. Dazzle pawed the ground and shouted something I couldn’t hear over the roar of the crowd. Ruby Red watched with almost complete indifference, choosing instead to sit on her flanks and down more of her drink.

“What are they fighting for?” I asked.

“Braggin’ rights. An’ slaves,” Squeaky replied, nudging my shoulder and pointing to a particularly miserable unicorn mare on a nearby podium, chained to a post. She was a pale orange color with a bright blond mane, all of it smudged by filth, streaked by tears on her cheeks. She hadn’t been brushed or looked after in some time, and had clearly been beaten at least once. Yet through it all she seemed to have an undeniable charm and elegant beauty, a draw that kept my eyes on her longer than they should have been. Her cutie mark was a lit, three-pronged candlestick.

“That there’s one of the Monarchy’s ‘recruiters,’” Squeaky said with a scoff. “Goin’ around the Metro offerin’ false promises, snatchin’ up good unicorns to be part a’ Pleiades’ magical army of salvation. Fuckin’ elitists is all they are. Unicorns get all the good stuff while everypony else gets ta’ be cannon fodder or a slave. Ah’m sorry, ‘indentured servants.’ Be glad we’re too far north for ‘em ta’ bother us much... but that bitch was caught with ‘er pants down. Literally, so I’m told. Lazy ass guards couldn’t even defend her when she was takin’ a shit. Shows you ‘ow pansy the mighty Monarchy is... there’s a reason they don’t ‘ave as much territory as the Republic.”

“They don’t have the balls,” Ruby Red agreed, taking another long swig. “That bitch is getting what she deserves. I’m a unicorn, but fuck anypony who tries telling me what to do. ‘Cept for Auntie,” she added as a hasty afterthought.

“Good ol’ Ruby. You’d never betray good ol’ pony unity,” Squeaky said, rolling his eyes and turning back to the fight. Dazzle, during our conversation, had finished off her opponent. The earth stallion lay dazed and battered on the ground, twitching. The crowd roared with approval, and Dazzle flapped her wings and soaked in the adulation. She turned to the Monarchy mare with a look of predatory intent and swooped down to grab her chain, wrap it around her hoof, and yank her off the podium. Dazzle kicked the mare’s hooves out from under her and placed her hoof on the unicorn’s head. The nameless slave took it without complaint. The crowd seemed to find special amusement in the debasement of a Monarchy pony and several chanted Dazzle’s name.

My throat felt dry and tight. There was an ugly, heavy feeling in my gut like there was a weight hooked to my stomach, which only got worse as the victor led her prize into the crowd. “What’s going to happen to her?” I couldn’t help but ask, sounding frail and raspy.

“The slave? Whatever the fuck Dazzle wants, it’s her win,” Ruby Red said with callous indifference. Another swig from that damn bottle.

I closed my eyes, feeling my blood pounding through my veins. This whole place was an affront to the very nature of ponydom. All of these ponies... no. They were like what Tracer described. Monsters masquerading as ponies, using our bodies and feelings for their own amusement. They were all hostile. They all deserved to die. If it was the last thing I did, I’d-

“What else do you have here?” I asked through gritted teeth, struggling to keep my emotions from showing. I had to get out of here. I had to get out.

“Card rooms!” Squeaky announced, swinging me around to face one of the smaller rooms. My mind raced. Cards... Sidewinder had gotten in trouble on account of cards. I tapped my chin as I approached one of the side doors, peeking inside. Tables, lined with gruff ponies playing cards and getting drunk. Not much different from outside except it was a little less rowdy, and the smoke had gathered in force here. Traditional tobacco was at a premium, so these bandits were smoking just about anything they could get their hooves on. The acrid stench made me gag and my eyes water as I reared back from the door, Squeaky laughing and thumping my back.

“You got a long way ta’ go, kid!” he bellowed.

“So... so... anypony,” I gasped, trying to breathe “fresh” air and talk at the same time. “Anypony. Can win a slave if they fight in the arena?”

“Well, you can win damn near anything assuming the fight’s good enough and both sides agree on the prize. Why? You got something in mind?”

Maybe... maybe.

“Just trying to think ahead. Damn near anything?”

“That’s wot Ah said! Ha! Sure you don’t want ta’ start thinkin’ with your other head? You seem like the kind a’ guy who needs to loosen up. Lemme tell yeh, one taste of the good mares from Connemara an’ you will never go back, my friend!”

I’d like a gun so I can shoot that smarmy grin off your face.

“I am not watching him if he says yes,” Ruby Red grumbled, finishing off her drink and tossing the bottle. It some unfortunate soul in the head, but when the affected pony saw who threw it, they wisely refrained from making an issue of it.

“I think I’d rather just have some more drinks-” I said, but Squeaky was well ahead of me. His unbearable grin was shoved into my face.

“Drinks! Well, hell, lemme introduce you ta’ some friends a’ mine. Got a party to attend tonight. Most of our shit comes from the Republic, or stolen straight from Hoofsa, an’ they’ve got plenty ta’ spare.”

“I’m not really-”

“Good on ya, knew you’d be up for it! Come on then. Eat, drink, an’ be merry, for tomorrow we will die!”

A long night. A long and painful night.

/-/-/-/

The ‘party’ was actually just part of the revel that was happening right outside. Except, it was in one of the smaller rooms on the second level, affording some privacy from the brawling and more physical activities the others were partaking in. Several long and round tables crowded the long, rectangular room, set up around a sort of stage like area where I presumed shows of some kind were put on. It was dimly lit by a bare minimum of sprite lights, making unsavory conversations and actions all the easier to partake in. Somepony had rolled in a cart full of drinks, which were being thoroughly enjoyed. It seemed the chief import of this place was beer, vodka, and anything else that could get you inebriated...

“Oh yeah! Sometimes the Republic will actually pay us in booze if we do extra special work for ‘em. Sweet deal if you ask me,” Squeaky explained, introduced me to several members of his squad, half of whom shook my hoof and brought me into their circles of friends, the other half glowered at me and looked like they’d rather break me in half than smile. It was a blur of ponies and names I didn’t care to remember. In fact, most of the opening hours of this so-called ‘party’ mostly involved what I’d seen down on the lower level. Did these bandits do anything besides drink and go crazy?

Ruby Red wasn’t around to ask; she had installed herself as far from me as possible while still being able to keep an eye on me. She sat with a group of silent ponies, mostly mares, earth, pegasi, and unicorns alike, all wearing heavy armor and looking every bit as tough and angry as she did. They were her personal soldiers, or so I was told, and messing with them was tantamount to messing with Ruby Red, and by extension, Auntie Buttercup.

Everypony gave them a wide berth, but I still felt her gaze boring into me every second. It made my mane itch, and I worried about that. Itchy manes were a sign of paranoia and other psychological problems, or so I’d read.

“Do we work? All the time,” Squeaky told me when I posed the question of idleness to him. “But this is a place of safety an’ relaxation... what you don’t notice are the soldiers rotatin’ in an’ out as they head out of the Fort ta’ our other branches. They need this if we want to keep morale up in these hard times.”

“I’ve got a patrol coming up in eight hours,” a huge earth pony with a buzz-cut mane and a shotgun that looked like it could double as a club. He reminded me of a troll. I’d read about trolls in books, and they were always described as creatures that talked and moved slowly. This pony was a troll. “I swear, if I don’t get piss drunk soon, I won’t be able to for a week! I just hope we aren’t sent up north.”

“You won’t be,” Squeaky assured him, and the empathy in his voice shocked me. Apparently even here ponies still valued friendship. “Those freaks won’t come any closer.”

“But they wiped out the whole depot! Twenty ponies strong, and we didn’t even find one of their dead,” another pony said in a hushed voice. I knew what they were talking about. Faceless white masks flashed in front of my vision. But I dared not give out any more information than I needed to. I just sat there, nursing my drink and make sure nopony got into my saddlebags, listening to the world around me. Taking in stories.

“I know. Buttercup’s pissed as all get out,” Squeaky agreed. “But they’re already gone. Dead bodies and all. We’ll just have to make sure we’re better prepared next time. And there will be a next time. Apparently, the Republic’s sent word that the cultists are spreading out, further into the Metro. One of their patrols was destroyed, they say. You boys best keep your eyes peeled.”

A mare leaned forward. “Just the one? I heard there weren’t even any bodies when the cultists were done with ‘em. They steal the ones that are still alive, they say. And they’ve started stealing ponies from stations that don’t defend themselves. That they’re the ones responsible for the disappearances around the Crypt!”

“The Crypt?” I asked, and the mare leaned towards me, eager to be the center of attention.

“It’s a place far to the south, on the edge of the Monarchy’s territory. A couple Hoofsa stations are near it, since it sits just outside the Ring, but they don’t explore it. Don’t even try to blockade it... cause they think it’ll make whatever’s there mad. It’s this big train depot, see, almost as big as Ponyopolis they say... officially it’s been overrun by mutants... but the stations near it have been suffering disappearances. They say Glowtown is evacuating, since they live nearest, and they’re getting picked off the worst.”

“Ha, are you sure it isn’t the Sandpony?” the big stallion who looked like a troll said with a chuckle. The mare hissed at him.

“Shut up, Watt! If you talk about him that’s when he shows up!”

“There’s no Sandpony here. And if he is, he’s probably too busy getting drunk to do anything nasty!” Squeaky said, standing up and shouting over the room. “Get some entertainment going!”

The talking was suddenly interrupted by somepony putting on music and trying to sing. He was shut up after some bottles were thrown, and then a brawl broke out, and the momentum started to peter out. I wandered away from the table after Squeaky and his friends got a little too drunk and started bawling and punching each other at regular intervals.. I took my cup of... whatever it was they drank... and went to a quiet corner of the room, nursing my drink and a tray of what I think was supposed to be food. It was shriveled and ugly, probably leftovers, but I ate it anyway, since I needed my strength. I had no interest in taking part in their version of fun, which was little more than a microcosm of what I saw on the main floor. I noticed a sudden shift in the music, and some of the sprite lights had been doused to accentuate the already dark atmosphere. A few strippers had been brought out, and they immediately went to “work.” I eyed them, greedily, for a little while, trying not to let my mind wander too much. They were hard to be attracted to; half of them were already broken down slaves, two were stallions (I think), and the rest were honest workers there for the bullets, but they were trying too hard.

I hated this place.

While I sat with my drink, trying to stay inconspicuous despite the fact that I was a strange new stallion with bandages and a scowl on his face sitting alone in a dark corner, I tried to plan my escape. I’d never get out on my own, I didn’t know this area. I couldn’t wait for Sunny Side or Tracer to come to my rescue; they probably thought I was dead anyway. And Nopony? I still wasn’t sure if he was truly a ghost or some other apparition. No, I had to get out with some kind of help. And there was only one pony here who might actually be able to help me, except he was sitting alone in a dark cell, talking the ears off the other prisoners and would-be slaves. I needed a little more information before I could make a move.

I felt Ruby Red’s eyes on me at almost all times. She wasn’t drunk, despite the copious amounts of alcohol she’d guzzled down, and she only had eyes for me, not the strippers or the brawlers or the ponies who came right up and talked to her. I’d have been flattered if her glaring didn’t make me want to curl into a ball under a table. If she ever put it together that I was the one who’d embarrassed her by breaking through her blockade fairly simply, she’d have my head on a platter. Probably after she defiled it in some way.

So. I needed information, and I needed privacy...

“Hey there.”

And I could scratch number two off my list.

I turned to see an earth pony mare standing before me, striking in her appearance not because of great beauty, but because of the way she looked. She was several years my senior, but didn’t look worse the wear; she had the signs of great endurance in her lean legs and half-lidded, blase expression. This was a mare who had seen and done much. She was a chalky, greyish-purple, with a long mane of deep, dark blue. It was like what glimpses of the night sky I’d seen in pictures; indeed, her cutie mark was that of a crescent moon. Her teal eyes blinked once, and her lips rose up in an amused smile, and then I realized she found it funny I was staring instead of answering her.

“Ruby Red cut your tongue out already?” she asked, her smooth, feminine voice sliding through the noise of the party, sidling into my ears as coy as could be.

“No,” I said, my eyes drifting to one of my bandages. “But she did quite a number on me.”

“She does that to everypony. Consider it a badge of honor.” Without being asked, she pulled up a chair and propped it next to mine, dropping into it so our flanks touched. I was instantly aware of the heat of her body, even in the general mugginess of the room.

“I’m willing to bet you didn’t come over here because I looked like I needed company,” I said quietly. I looked over at Ruby Red. Sure enough, she stared right back, and I knew this mare’s appearance wasn’t a coincidence.

She tsked and flicked her mane, summoning a waif over to get her a drink. She immediately downed a quarter of it without flinching. Talk about signs of endurance. “Well. You do look like you need company. But even if I was sent over here on purpose, why’s that got to be a bad thing? It’s not like I’m going to steal anything from you. If Auntie or Red or any other big fish here wanted what’s in your bags, they’d get it. And if they wanted information... I mean really wanted it... you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

“What then, you’re here to seduce me?”

The mare laughed, a quick, barking sound. “Giving yourself a little too much credit, aren’t you new guy? There’s nothing I need from you at all.”

“Then leave,” I said as bluntly as I could. “I’ve been through a lot of shit lately.”

“You don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Why should I?”

“Hell if I know. That’s something you gotta ask yourself. But it’s either that or sit here and mope, knowing that...” She pointed at Ruby Red. “Is looking at you all night.”

I had to admit she had a point. But this could be a ploy of some kind... something to cajole information out of me the easy way. But did Buttercup do the easy way?

“I don’t trust you,” I stated plainly. “Everypony here would kill me if they got a chance.”

“So?” The mare flicked her mane. “They’d kill each other too if it came to that.”

I felt a spike of irritation. She wasn’t getting me any closer to out of this place, and I couldn’t concentrate if she was just sitting there making argumentative comments. “Look, why are you here?” I demanded, looking directly at her. She didn’t say a word. She just stared right back at me. There was something riveting about her gaze.

“You know what I think?” she whispered, leaning forward so I could hear. “I think... you’ve got a hell of a lot to worry about right now. And it’s not doing you a lick of good just sitting here thinking and thinking about it.” She smiled. It wasn’t the smile of a seductress or a killer. It was a plain, amicable smile. One that disarmed you without meaning to. The smile of a would-be friend, or a shoulder to cry on. “You ever been drunk before, kiddo?”

“... Once or twice,” I muttered, mollified yet shocked at her change in demeanor.

“Ah, good. So you know what to expect.” She tipped her bottle and filled my cup to the brim. I watched it like I would a poisoner, but that only made her smile more. “Geez, buddy, lighten up will you? We don’t have to be enemies here. It’s not like the universe is out to get you or something. ”

A flash of dark, shadowy wings. Bleeding eye sockets leering at me. Horrifying lights chasing me down endless tunnels.

“Sometimes I wonder.”

The mare made a soft, contented noise. “You’d be surprised how many ponies say that.”

“It seems true, more often than not. The world is ending. Or has ended. Just about everything that can kill us is trying to.” I gave the rest of the bandits a sour look. “Even each other.”

“I try not to think about it.”

“Don’t you?” I asked, finally taking a sip of my drink. I’d slowly become acclimatized to the stuff, and it wasn’t as stomach-twisting as before. “I can’t really avoid it.”

“That’s too bad. There’s gotta be some place you go that’s all your own?”

“Not anymore.” Sip. Gag.

“I got me a nice set-up. Small room. But everything’s a small room in the Metro. You know? You look like the type who likes to go hide away in places like that.”

“Used to be.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“No.”

The mare sighed, and I felt a little vindictive satisfaction I’d managed to irritate her. I wasn’t some toy, some wind-up doll Buttercup could twist in just the right way and I’d crack. I was sure this was a plot from her, making a move against my decency and self-control.

“Look. Let’s start over.”

I stared at the table.

“Please? It’s not like I got anywhere else to be.”

“You have a room full of stallions who might be wanting your services. Mares too, probably.”

“Yeah. But the thing is, I’m good enough that I can say no and get away with it. And tonight I don’t want any old thick-headed lug who couldn’t charm his way out of a sewage pipe. It gets boring, sometimes, you know? Just doing the same damn thing. So tonight I thought I’d get to know a pony.”

“Your double entendres need a little work.”

“My what?”

Figured. She probably hadn’t read many books. “Never mind. So why do you want to know me?”

“You’re interesting. You just show up out of nowhere, covered in bandages... Buttercup only lets non-slaves roam free if they’ve got business or she wants them to join up. Ruby Red’s stalking you like a howler. You sit in dark corners, not paying a lick of attention to the entertainment, and brood like there’s no tomorrow?” She grinned and punched my shoulder. “If you’re trying not to get attention, you suck at it.”

I took another drink. The buzz was starting to get to me. But I didn’t dare open up. She could be a spy. A trickster.

“You want to talk? Let’s talk about you,” I suggested, looking into her eyes. They didn’t have the same kind of girlish charm as Starry Gaze’s. Eyes that’d seen so much, that held secrets just like I did. I didn’t know why, but I believed that with eyes like that, there must be something different about her. Something that made my mane stand on end and my tail shiver. I wondered if, perhaps, she could talk like a normal pony, and not a bandit.

“Me?” the mare asked, looking surprised. Pleasantly so. A little bemused. “What about me?”

“My name is Lockbox. What’s yours?”

That got a grin out of her as she swigged her drink. “A sentimental type, huh? I can dig that. Name’s Pitter Patter.”

“Where were you born?”

“Outta tunnel moss and lightning.”

I stared. Pitter Patter just grinned.

“Nah, I’m kidding. I was born in Five Towns. Found my way to Connemara. I learned things from the ponies there... how to shoot, fight, scavenge. Sucked at all three. And through fate and circumstance I ended up here. Life sucks that way.”

“You’re not happy here?”

“What pony’s happy in the Metro? You think I wanted to spend the rest of my days banging drugged up stallions who think two plus two equals twenty-two? It’s a living. And at least here nopony cares who you were before. I can be put to good use besides how wide my legs can go. I used to be good at planting, you know? And fixing things. But I gotta pay my own bills. Keep the bosses happy.”

We both took a long drink. Stared for a while longer. And talked for longer than that.

/-/-/-/

One hour turned to two. And three. The bandits hadn’t even begun to wind down; card games had broken out and a few ponies had taken the strippers to another room for... further entertainment. I was wasting time. I knew that. But I couldn’t just up and start asking. I had to be careful. I’d tried to monitor how much I was drinking. But even I was starting to feel light-headed and flushed in the cheeks.

Pitter Patter, by contrast, was all but drunk at this point, and had all but talked my ears off, her movements growing lazy and erratic, her voice slurring. She was only thirty three, which surprised me, but ponies aged quickly in the Metro. I felt much older than my twenty years already. She’d been the unwanted only child of another pony who’d sold herself, and Pitter Patter had actually been bought at Connemara. Though I’d almost gagged on the thought, she’d taken it all in stride, as she’d learned to do with many things. She’d been purchased for a mere thirty bullets. Thirty tools with which to kill, used to buy a young life. I wondered how much I’d go for... how much a pony would be willing to kill to buy my skin, or the equipment in my bag. Reflecting on how many ponies had died at my hooves, I’d purchased many lives myself for far cheaper.

I listened as the drink loosened her lips. She related the story of how she’d managed to befriend a Stalker, who took her under her wing after her master, a flippant and callous pony, died under “mysterious circumstances.” I listened as she talked about how she’d run with Stalkers for several years, never permitted to go to the surface, but learning how to sweet talk ponies at market and helping out on expeditions through the Metro. She never told me the name of her Stalker savior, but that nameless mare was clearly dear to Pitter Patter’s heart, and it was also from her that Pitter Patter learned how to address more... physical needs. Why the Stalker was no more was a subject too sensitive for the mare. Gently I steered talk back to the Fort itself. She’d been here for six odd years, by her reckoning, and knew a lot of their leaders and the mannerisms of its ponies. That was what I wanted to know.

“I noticed some of the ponies down in the cages-”

“We don’t call them ponies,” Pitter Patter drawled, shaking her head with more force than necessary, “we call them cargo.”

“... I noticed some of the cargo down below aren’t ponies that had been there for a while. It’s a punishment too?”

“If you can call it that...” She suddenly narrowed her eyes and leaned in uncomfortably close, her somewhat disheveled mane falling over her eyes. “Heeeeey. Hey! What’re you askin’ me about that stuff for, anyway? Who cares what the cargo thinks?”

“Just wondering what one has to do around here to end up with a fate like that,” I said with an innocent shrug. “Like, there was this one earth pony I saw... Ruby Red showed me the place so I’d know what happens to troublemakers... he claimed there was a pony he lost cards with-”

“You gotta be a bad pony to go down there,” Pitter Patter grumbled. “I’m not a bad pony! Are you a bad pony, Lockbox?” She suddenly got a very odd grin on her face and leaned even closer, until our sides pressed together. I surprised myself by not moving away. Or I would’ve been surprised, if the slight buzz in my own brain didn’t encourage me to stay close to those deep, powerful eyes. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol, but her body heat was very, very hot against me.

“Well... are you?” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes. I gulped, audibly.

“I try not to be too... troublesome.”

“Oh. Too bad... I was thinking about what we could do that’d be... troublesome. You’ve been talking and talking, and we’re really just dancing around the issue here.”

“I’m just asking for some information-”

“Lockbox.” Pitter Patter put her hooves on my shoulders. “Do you know. What I am offering? Right now?”

I coughed. All of a sudden the talk was turning into something much more serious. It’d be the perfect excuse to get away from Ruby Red, but I’d been hoping it’d be more gradual. “Ahh... perhaps? It’s... er.”

“Come with me,” she whispered, and nudged my cheek with her snout. Hold on. Was this really happening? I couldn’t remember what I was trying to do! I hurriedly pried her hooves from me, scooting back in my chair.

“Wait,” I said. “This… um. Where are we going?”

“You know,” she said, tossing her mane so it fell over her eyes just so. Her vivid eyes peered at me from under that coy cover, making my heart begin to pound. “Somewhere private.”

“Just like that?”

Pitter Patter scoffed, reaching out and putting her hoof on my chest. It felt like fire… liquid, pleasurable fire, spreading over my chest. “Lockbox. I sat down with you so I could ask. Now… now come on! We’ve been talkin’ long enough, huh?”

My mind whirled, struggling between rationality and my sudden, youthful desire to give in to the heady, amorous feelings she was igniting. I had to get somewhere private, try to convince Ruby Red I was beginning to give in to the charm of a bandit’s lifestyle… this was a chance to get into a closed space with a pony who could give me information, nothing else. I couldn’t waste time. Or could I, a small, devious pony in the back of my mind said, stroking his chin. Couldn’t I spend at least few hours? I’d never been with a mare before. All of a sudden my mind dragged out the fact of my virginity and laid it bare before me, saying here was a chance! Who knew when you’d get another? A nice, pretty, older mare to show you the ropes… Celestia help me, it was enticing.

I hurled back the standard arguments. I could catch something, she could be leading me into a trap, here on orders from Ruby Red or Buttercup themselves… most importantly, if I gave in a little here… if I gave myself to this random bandit’s service pony, would I stop? Would I start to be dragged into this strange, violent world like she was? I didn’t have any delusions I was more or less corruptible than any other pony; my experiences so far showed I was already sullied. That, and I was halfway drunk, so the dutiful part of my mind staggered and made half-hearted punches against my baser instincts, which hopped and teased and cajoled me.

Pitter Patter didn’t have patience for my introspection. Wordlessly, she smiled and began to pull me off my chair, making sure she stayed ahead of me as she began to walk, swaying her hips and flicking her tail back at me. And damn my eyes, I followed like a cow on a leash, more because of her beckoning than because I was putting any kind of plan into action, my eyes following every movement of the full, smooth curves on her body. Everything suddenly felt much more immediate, every gentle bounce of her mane and tail, every smooth muscle contraction jumping out at me. Her sleepy, somewhat inebriated over-the-shoulder smile, amused by my school-colt enchantment with the female form, held so many affectionate unspoken promises. It made my stomach feel like a boiling ocean, my head pound with alcohol laced blood, and my heart flutter with anxiety and excitement. My mind filled with half-formed images of pony-shaped silhouettes undulating in unison. I was no stranger to sex; it was hard to avoid even in a station like Exiperia that tried to keep things civil. That, and new children were always closely monitored; population booms were something to be afraid of in the already crowded Metro. Thin walls and cracked doors meant a glance every now and then was inevitable. But to be there, to experience it first hoof… to be the one making those strange, hypnotizing noises, to know you were the cause of them in another pony?

Without even checking that Ruby Red was watching, I found myself walking out and up, out of the turbine room, into the deeper parts of the Fort. She led me past old rooms full of destroyed, graffiti choked terminals and consoles, past rooms of broken gauges and rusted pipes and large, seemingly pointless spaces overtaken by bandits looking for a place to sleep, the miscellany of living scattered over the floor and walls. Bandits already occupying these spaces glared or winked at us as we passed by. She led me up a flight of stairs I didn’t remember getting to the top of, so distracted was I by my inner turmoil, and the only action that seemed available was to follow meekly after her. At last we came to a hallway with several doors, and I, tormented still by half-remembered sights and sounds of lovemaking, trotted into her room behind her.

She closed the door.

“So how do you like it?” she asked in a slur I somehow found adorable.

“I’ve… never really… done it,” I murmured.

“Hehe… I meant my room, silly boy.” I glanced around the room. It was surprisingly lacking in either gore-soaked barbarism or girlish accessories. It was, instead, a small rectangular space with a small sprite light that flickered in one corner, a few books I recognized, papers with scribbles on them… poetry, it looked like at first glance. Radio parts and various pieces of mechanical junk, leading me to believe she tinkered in her spare time. And a bed that was meticulously well kept.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Pitter Patter asked, brushing her snout along my flank and scooting her way up my side, nosing off my saddlebags. I felt her gently nibbling, nuzzling, reaching the base of my neck. My eye twitched and I stood statue still, closing my eyes, which only served to exacerbate the feelings racing through me. A very strange scent filled my nose, ten times as intoxicating as the alcohol I’d been consuming.

“Very,” I said in a tight voice. “Patter, it’s, uh, flattering that you want to do this-”

“Does this feel good?” she asked, brushing her nose along my jawline.

“… Very,” I all but squeaked, my eyes clenched almost painfully tight now.

“That’s nothing.” Her hooves were on my body, touching so tenderly I felt fragile enough to break, and I shivered uncontrollably. She paused, letting me acclimatize… it felt very good…

“H… how far are we going?” I asked, gulping. Pitter Patter breathed against my neck, her teeth at my ear, embracing me tenderly. Luna forgive me, she was so warm.

“As far as it takes to-”

Something struck a nerve. A flash of light. A flap of wings. The feeling of rushing towards something…

Time… lost…

My eyes snapped open. Exiperia. The Dark Ones. My friends… how could I do this knowing they were still out there? My home was still in danger! One night could make all the difference! One night… a night I’d almost just wasted. The terror of the Dark Ones gripped my heart, strangling all thoughts of romance and rest. It wasn’t a gentle feeling. Nor did I feel good for realizing it. I stepped away from Pitter Patter, who looked at me in confusion. I shook my head, clearing it of the cobwebs that’d been gathering, trying to surface from the ocean of lust I’d just been drowning in.

“I shouldn’t. I can’t,” I panted. “No, I won’t. I’m not here for this. I’m sorry.”

Pitter Patter stared incredulously, seeming unable to process what I was saying. Her hoof was still in the air where she’d been stroking my back. “W… what? What are you talking about?”

I turned and looked her square in the eyes. “You were sent to me, weren’t you? Some kind of offering.”

Even through the haze of alcohol my words cut deep. She scooted back until she was seated on her bed, collapsing on it. Every muscle in that poor mare seemed to collapse, and her head dropped forward, nodding.

“Does it really matter?” she asked, her voice now husky and regretful. I looked away, squashing my pity. No matter how sweet her words or relatable her story, this whole charade couldn’t waste any more of my time. “Just… just trying to show you a good time, that’s all.”

“You can still tell them you did the deed,” I muttered, feeling angry all of a sudden. At myself, I realized, for spurning an open offer and having to do so for a mission that gave me no rest. This was the reason Pitter Patter was here, and I’d just rejected one of the few ways she could make her bosses happy. Refusing her on principle meant making her life harder. But I couldn’t stop, not for a moment.

“What the hell, Lockbox?” Pitter Patter demanded, turning on me suddenly. “What’s the matter with you? Why’d you let me drag you up here if you weren’t-”

“I need information. That’s all.”

Pitter Patter blushed for reasons I couldn’t discern, and then her eyes went to the ground again. “Oh. I get it. Just that, huh?”

“Just that. I thought you’d be relieved.”

“Does it look like I’m relieved?” she hissed. I backed up a step.

“I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I’m sure. Just because the first pony that walks into this place that honestly likes to talk more than fuck and it’s not like I have an ego either or anything and he’s just here for information,” she rambled, falling back onto her bed and covering her face with her hooves. “Celestia, I’m so… I…”

“You’re drunk. That’s all,” I said, scuffing my hoof as I looked at anywhere but her. I felt almost physically ill, having never had my body wound so tight like a spring, and then be forced to uncoil, all that energy, all that potential bleeding out like a wound. This wasn’t turning out how I thought it would at all… but then my eyes fell on the guitar.

It sat against a corner of the room, behind the door, explaining why I hadn’t noticed it at first. It was a Fetlock manufactured Stratocolt, not a model I was intimately familiar with, but I’d played similar ones and owned a Fetlock myself. My mind flew back to those days by the fire, gently strumming while Starry Gaze rested against my shoulder, the long nights devouring the same sheet music over and over. Things fell into place with alarming ease. Galvanized, I turned back to the pouting Pitter Patter, licking my lips.

“I’m sorry. I truly can’t spend this time with you. But… there is something else I can do?”

“What.” She didn’t sound interested. It was a shot in the dark. But why else would she have it…

“I can play for you. A song for a question.”

Pitter Patter snorted at first, but then her gaze followed mine to the guitar. She stared at it like she hadn’t put it there; a shadow like an unnatural specter of something only she knew passed over her eyes.

“That was… that was hers,” she rasped, speaking through a tight throat.

“Your Stalker?” I ventured, and she nodded dumbly in return. It took me prodding her with my hoof to make her remember where she was. When she looked at me, her gaze was clearer than before. Younger in some ways. Tormented in others. I almost felt bad, knowing I was, in some way, manipulating her feelings for her long lost dear friend. But with my goal now so close, with her so pliable…

“I never learned how to play it. Never had the time… no, that’s not true. I just never wanted to play it. It was hers, and… and I just thought… I’d never be able to do what she did with that old thing. Just been keeping it around for old time’s sake… remembering how… wonderful it used to sound. When we’d just sit around the fire and listen to her play.”

Her expression grew more wistful as I continued to listen. “She’d always get this… this weird smile on her face when she played. Like she wasn’t all there. And when she looked at me with that smile… I felt like… like I was there with her, wherever she was. The music just… just sort of-”

“Took you away,” I finished with a knowing nod. “I know. I play. One of the few things in the Metro I can call beautiful.”

There was silence for a time, until she gestured for me to sit on the bed, then walked over and picked it up in her mouth, setting it down before me. “What do you want to know?” she whispered, still eyeing the guitar.

I snatched up the guitar and immediately began tuning it. The instrument was as familiar to me as my guns, or my body. It felt good having something I was so knowledgeable in. “I want to know who put the pony called Sidewinder in the cages during a card game. Where I can find him. And if my plan to get Sidewinder out will actually work.”

Pitter Patter was silent. She hopped up on the bed and scooted behind me, gently resting against my back. We leaned against each other, and this time the contact wasn’t at all uncomfortable.

“Make me believe,” she whispered. “Make me feel like she did. And I’ll tell you.”

And so I played. I played like I did in Exiperia around the storied fireplaces. I played like I did when the elders talked about a world long gone, one that would have been strange even to our father’s fathers. I played for the memory of a place so full of beauty and safety and innocence it was almost as alien as the world above was now. A place now found only in storybooks. I played for Equestria as it once was, with all the melancholy and wistful, noble recollection the old ones had when they spoke of it. And I closed my eyes, and felt the warmth of the fire on my face, and felt her small, gentle frame resting against mine. For a time, I was home, and played for my station, and listened to Pitter Patter’s gentle whispers telling me what I needed to know.

When I was done, she’d fallen asleep. I gently laid her on the bed, watching her rest. She seemed, if not happy, then at least content. My eyes lingered on her face as her warmth lingered on my back. When it grew cold again, I slipped on my saddlebags and left.

/-/-/-/

His name was Steel Crescent. He was a unicorn stallion’s stallion, as big as they came, with a cutie mark of a solid steel hammer. Apparently, that was to signify his proficiency at both fixing things and smashing them to pieces. He was one of the toughest sons of bitches in the Fort, and judging by the size of his muscles and his imposing, spiked metal armor, they weren’t lying. He even had a lit cigar jammed into his mouth to complete the tough colt image. Pitter Patter told me he wasn’t gutsy or smart enough to be a commander, but many ponies followed him out of respect for his ability anyway. His legendary temper was only matched by his unwillingness to lose... and a drunken Sidewinder had been the unlucky one to be caught cheating.

I knew most of this because I was standing in the door of a place in the Fort Steel Crescent was known to frequent: a crowded and dingy dive known as the Gut. Located in the bowels of the Fort, it’d once been part of the distillation facilities, but like many other places it’d been slowly gutted and converted into a makeshift brewery, with tanks and pipes jutting from the walls. The stench of alcohol filled the dimly lit room, and a jukebox blared old time Equestrian swing music from one corner. It was also a popular place to play cards, since you got the drinks right from the source. The discipline here was slightly better than in the Rec Room, but the relative quiet, being a loud murmur of many conversations at once instead of a roar of wild partying, made me even more frightened. Here was where the hardened killers and anti-social misfits took refuge. I’d walked right into a wolf’s den.

I already had a black eye, having run into a nasty pegasus pony halfway to going feather-brained who didn’t appreciate me passing him in the hall and thus “crowding” him. I could only hope it’d make me look less like a fool and more intimidating. Of course, my own idea of how to piss off a hulking monster like Steel Crescent wasn’t what I’d call intelligent. I watched him sulking over a round of beers, angrily watching his fellow bandits play their cards. It seemed he was having a good night, but it wasn’t improving his temper any. At least I didn’t have to worry about riling him up.

I began to walk forward, setting my jaw in determination. My plan was stupid. Ridiculous even. But there was no other way to feasibly get Sidewinder out without making the entire Fort hostile.

I am the earth. I am the earth.

I felt the soil around me, tainted though it was. I felt the earth speaking to my soul, like all earth ponies felt, and was less afraid. Steel Crescent might have had larger muscles, but I had more power. A unicorn could never match an earth pony determined to win. And I was determined.

“The FUCK!” Steel Crescent roared, scattering cards as he rounded on another player. I stopped when I saw that it was Ruby Red, who showed no fear while Steel Crescent raved at her.

“You call that a hoof worth playing? Do you think I’m stupid? I call bullshit on that!”

“If you can’t stand losing, then get the fuck out of the Gut and out of my face,” Ruby Red hissed. “You’re talking to Buttercup’s right hoof, in case you forgot. Go sleep off whatever the fuck is making you stupider than usual.”

I continued walking as Steel Crescent sullenly took his seat again and resumed playing, grumbling to himself. The other players kept wisely silent through the outburst, but one or two of them noticed me as I came closer. That made Ruby Red perk up and notice. She didn’t look happy at all to see me.

“The fuck are you doing out here?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be back upstairs!”

“Steel Crescent,” I said, ignoring her, which she didn’t like one bit. She jumped off her chair and moved to grab me as the big unicorn turned to face me.

“Yeah, what?” he rumbled. I tried not to notice how much larger he looked up close. Or how spiky his armor was. It looked extremely painful.

“You put a friend of mine in prison, and I- hurk!” Ruby Red snatched me around the throat with her magic and dragged me back, thrusting her snout into my face.

“The hell are you doing, dead weight?!” she barked. “You’re interrupting my free time!”

“I’m talking to Steel Crescent,” I returned, looking her right in the eyes. As Buttercup’s guest I wasn’t bound by that rule anymore. “I have an issue I need to redress.”

“Well redress it with Buttercup!” she snapped, sending spittle into my face. “Whatever the fuck it is you don’t need to go causing trouble-”

“I want a prisoner from the cargo room.”

Ruby Red, and most of the conversations nearby, went silent. Apparently they already knew what I was going to propose. The rules of the Fort, I learned from Pitter Patter, were simple. If you cause problems, you either die, be banished, or get sent to the cages, depending on the severity of the crime and who exactly you made angry. Steel Crescent’s leverage and influence was such that anypony sent to the cages by him couldn’t be released easily, and I already knew Buttercup wasn’t going to just let Sidewinder out if I asked politely and make one of her best soldiers angry. Which meant I had to take a road of greater resistance.

“Steel Crescent put the pony called Sidewinder into the cages. Only he has the right to release him or sell him off. I hereby challenge him for a pit match for the release rights of Sidewinder.”

Silence. I felt, for a moment, proud, even confident. Obviously they were so shocked by my boldness it might have even impressed them. I’d gotten this far, and even Auntie Buttercup had taken a strange sort of liking to me. It was an exhilarating feeling.

I think it was when they all started laughing that I began to get a little angry.

“Let me get this straight,” Ruby Red said through derisive snorts and chuckles. “You... you’re going to fight him? For some stupid cargo? What the fuck, Lockbox? It might be ballsy if it wasn’t so stupid!”

Steel Crescent looked like he’d been about to have an apoplexy. But then he too saw the apparent humor in the situation, and began to chuckle, and then laugh out loud, until he was banging the table. The others were shaking their heads and joking amongst themselves, mocking me openly.

“Who are you, pony? Who are you, pony?” they taunted. “New guy wants to take on the vet! Fight of the century!”

I felt an angry blush rise to my cheeks. I’d been through things they couldn’t imagine. Half of these ponies had probably never even braved the surface. But I’d been a Stalker, a Ranger, a killer, a traveler. I was a pony with my own merits. And I had a mission. These fools... these violent, silly fools! How could they understand why I did what I did? They couldn’t. And here they made fun of me because they couldn’t understand a pony who was trying to do his best to save his people!

“I mean it,” I said, but they teased me all the more. I gritted my teeth until I thought they’d crack, feeling that old anger from before rise up again. Bastards. They didn’t realize if I had a gun and enough bullets I’d shoot them all, gladly! I’d show them! I’d show all of them! I stalked straight up to Steel Crescent while he pointed at me and guffawed like a fool.

“Little pony wants to fight? Got a black eye there, soldier, don’t let it go to your head! Ha ha ha-”

My hoof struck him square on the jaw. I felt it. I heard it. It was a literal explosion of energy granted to me by my earth pony magic, the strength of mother earth giving me what I needed to shut the bastard up quick. He spun in his chair, eyes comically wide, limbs flailing as he twirled right out of his seat and collapsed on the ground, his armor clanging as he smashed into the concrete floor.

Everypony was silent. I stood over Steel Crescent and glared right into his eyes as he flipped over to face me, which were wide as a pony’s eyes could go.

“You and me. In the ring. Sidewinder’s freedom is the prize. I am not fucking around. This is an official challenge for ownership!” I shouted to the rest of the Gut. “You’re all my witnesses! If Steel Crescent comes at me before the match, everypony knows him as a cowardly bitch! Buttercup’s rules. Not mine.”

I looked back down at Steel Crescent, who’d regained enough of his senses to start looking angry. I matched him stare for stare.

“Now give me my fight.”

“... You got it, tough guy,” Steel Crescent hissed, licking up the blood from his lip and working a loose tooth with his tongue. I stepped away with a satisfied nod.

“Three hours from now, sharp. Be there.”

I turned to leave, catching Ruby Red’s gaze on the way out. She looked livid. Confused. Utterly incredulous. She didn’t have a single word to say.

Comments

[Damhoof]

HOLY SMOKES BATMAN WITH A COFFE-CUP!

this fic just keeps getting better, and better. xD

[redsquirrel456]

217173
Home is where the radiation is.

218685
And longer and longer and longer... I didn't even realize how much I was writing until I was done!

181554

Another dedicated reader. I think my work here is done! I think Artyom's voice is appropriate, but I imagine Lockbox's voice is somewhat squeakier and more pony-ish.

[canterlot guard]

great story man just wondering once you finish this fic will you be making a sequel? referring to Metro: Last Light

[the other sans]

My thigh I collided hard with the edge
and tossing the bottle. It some unfortunate soul in the head

1. Extra I here.
2. It hit some unfortunate soul in the head.