Steel’s car rolled into the depot’s forecourt having been weathered over and over by the swirling sand, peeling off the car’s paint in spots. The two got out, covering their faces as they slowly approached the set of doors that led inside.
Though before Steel followed behind Matterhorn, he allowed himself a small, and gruff, grumble about the state his car was in. It wasn’t unusual for their vehicles to sustain some damage out in the Rift City Badlands, but every Nomad took pride in their personal vehicle’s paint job and getting it damaged was considered a grave insult.
“Do you lot have a plan for getting inside the Arcology? It seems to me that you’re outta luck.” Steel remarked through a mouth of gritty sand.
“A few, but it’ll take a lot of doing and some help from your people as well.” Matterhorn mumbled. “Let’s get inside first, this sand is getting into everything.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more. Looks like everyone didn’t have time to cover over their vehicles either, sandstorm must’ve hit hard.”
Matterhorn felt slightly responsible for that, as well as a little guilty, but when he offered to help cover over the few cars and motorbikes that were still exposed to the elements, Steel remarked that they should just get inside. They’d just repaint and repair anything that was damaged by the sand, as this was their daily life and to be expected.
The two headed inside, away from the choking, swirling sands kicked up by the sandstorm to see Access comforting Sheet Rock. Their voices were barely audible above the general clamor of the garage, but whatever they were talking about clearly had Sheet Rock in a real twist.
“You two, can I have a word?” Matterhorn said gently. “I have a way inside the Arcology, or at least a way we could get in. But, I need your help.”
“We can’t get in, Matterhorn, they’ll gun us down the moment they spot us!” Sheet Rock half-shouted.
“Then we wont go by air, or on hoof. We’ll go underneath their defenses, through some old train tunnels perhaps. There should still be an intact tunnel or two connecting Rift City and the Arcology.” Matterhorn remarked, gesturing with a hoof downwards. “Steel should be able to help us find a good entry point.”
“What’s your motivation for helping us? What do you get out of it?” Sheet Rock blurted out suddenly.
Matterhorn was taken aback, but answered truthfully. “You want your friends back, and we want the pony that took them. I would say our goals are linked, and co-operation is mutually beneficial.”
“I don’t mean what the Crown gets out of it. I mean what do YOU get out of it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at.” Matterhorn said blankly. “What I want is the same as what you want.”
Sheet Rock looked at Lucky, who was casually lounging in the corner of the garage among some of their nomad saviors, seemingly keeping an eye on them and Matterhorn. She looked back at him for a moment, then returned her gaze to Lucky who hadn’t taken her eyes off them in the past little while.
“Lucky told us what Riot is, that he’s like you.”
Matterhorn raised an eyebrow. “Not something that I’ve ever heard, but I suppose there are things even the director hasn’t told me. Despite being the favorite, she doesn’t tell me everything.”
“That’s a good point actually. When we met, she said that she created you. She sounded almost like she meant it literally, but corrected herself when we gave her some odd looks.” Access pointed out.
Matterhorn peered over at Lucky in the corner. She’d looked away now, and her expression had changed from quiet amusement to a slightly less friendly glare up at the ceiling.
“Technically, there are a few ponies responsible for my creation. The Director is one of them, Rain Noir, Starry Night’s father is another, the third is… technically not a pony, or even alive in a literal sense… but… well… that’s something of a sensitive subject.”
“Sensitive like how?” Access said, a little grumpy that Matterhorn was deftly dancing around the subject. “Corps get up to all sorts of shady things, why would this be any different?”
“I know I said I would tell you anything to breed trust between us, but I cannot tell you that. I’d be liquidated on the spot if I did. As an aside, handlers don’t just exist to monitor and support us, they’re also the last line of defense against a rogue agent and to make sure our secrets remain just that.”
“Well that sounds sinister. I don’t suppose you’ll elaborate either?”
Matterhorn shook his head as an indication he indeed wouldn’t speak further on the subject. They’d find out eventually anyway, and he preferred they learned the truth through their own curiosity rather than being spoon-fed it.
“Steel?” he said.
“Still here.” Steel responded. “I’m guessing you need an old pony’s assistance?”
“Yes, do you have any maps I can borrow? There are some tunnels I need access to, that’s assuming they’re even still intact.”
“Looks like your friends are about ready to get to work. No rest for the wicked, huh?” Flywheel remarked through a mouthful of dry bread.
“I have no idea how they do it. My nerves are completely shot and yet they just get up and go along with it like it’s nothing.” Star responded.
“If I may, miss, I believe their attitude is the product of actually having to put themselves into danger in order to even afford the basics.” Snowy responded blankly. “The alternative is of course, starvation, or bleeding out on a dirty street corner.”
“A bit like us in a way.” Flywheel said, nodding solemnly. “We aren’t proud of the fact we have to resort to theft to survive, but when you’re this far off the grid, needs must.”
“I think my perspective has widened somewhat since I lost my job but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way things are done around here.” Star admitted. “It’s not as if I can go back to the way things were, not now, not ever, but I want to at least make things better for those that need it.”
“Then you’re more altruistic than most, some do what they do for money, others recognition, and some simply because they can, but I would temper that with some caution.” Flywheel warned. “Sooner or later you’ll have to choose where your loyalties lie and it wont be pretty, you can’t please everyone.”
“I’m loyal to my family and friends, I promised I’d help them and help them I will.” Star said firmly. “Nobody can tell me any different.”
Flywheel nodded. “I don’t mean to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted or anything, I’m just get a little overly concerned when ponies are so sure of their stance on things.”
“Perspective is nice, I just wonder if the kind of perspective I have is the kind that’s going to let me go home and enjoy life while I can, or if I’m going to end up in the same place they are, never being able to climb up out of it toward something better.”
“Perhaps you should ask them why they do what they do? Maybe it’ll give you some idea of what YOU want to do with this new situation you’re in.”
Star felt torn, but the promise she made to them when they met still mattered to her, after all, they still needed her help and she wasn’t about to back out now. She wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye again if she let cowardice take over.