"Welcome to Mulico, Hermosa." Somepony said from behind Ash. That startled her a little.
She had perhaps nodded off, and despite clutching her satchel between her legs like an old mare, she felt a little embarrassed about being out in public and worried some of her belongings had gone for a walk while she had been napping. The speaker came around the fountain, where Ash was sitting, to join her like they were old friends. It was the dark violet Pegasus Ash had met in the drug camp outside Saguaro. She had a short white lace dress that was hemmed asymmetrically from her shoulder to her flank, no hat and a small satchel tied just under her neck.
"Were you sleeping?"
"Just resting my eyes," Ash yawned and lit a rolled cigarette.
"You look like you haven't washed in a month and smell like manure," her aubergine-coloured snout scrunched, "we ought to get you to a bathhouse before you meet our handler."
Ash coughed out a few smoke rings and tossed the Rollie on the ground, "yeah, I've had a rough few days."
They started walking. Lecharía station looked like a giant greenhouse, within which was a myriad of vines, flowers, plants and large trees that offered shade. There was a mosaic fountain at which Ash had been seated, with an entrance per side of the platforms.
"What's your name anyway?" Ash asked.
"I change it every now and again," she explained, "right now I go by Kleo."
"I'm Ash if you didn't know already." Kleo smiled softly but didn't comment.
The mares exited onto a paved road, lined with iron lamp posts and terraced homes. This portion of the city looked better developed and more fanciful than North Park Station.
"This is the latest district to be built by Presidente Calédula. He was a federal army war hero, then seized power from the last dictator…" Kleo coughed, "sorry, I mean legitimately elected official," she rolled her eyes. "Whole place is financed using illicit bribes, back alley dealings, federal endeavours and of course drug and flesh money."
"And let me guess, the federal army acts as muscle for El Presidente and turns a blind eye to his friends?"
"Bingo." Kleo said, "Makes business easy for us at least."
They were heading towards a checkpoint of said federal army, the Mule guards were stocky, equipped with basic leather and fabric uniforms, short swords and wide-brimmed hats. They stopped their idle chat to glare, particularly at Ash, and that annoyed her. She supposed she looked like a vagrant at the moment, and Kleo was right, every now and then she caught the stench of an unwashed tramp. She had thought it was the locals, but now she realised with a disgraced grimace that it was coming from her.
Shit. One of them put himself in their path.
"Oiga, señor, señora, necesito ver su identificación." The guard said.
He wanted identification papers, which she didn't have. Unfortunately, she could only grumble a retort of "stupid prick," under her breath, as he'd mistaken her for a stallion. She was more prominent than Kleo, she admitted, and her matted shaggy fur and bandit attire did hide her features. But still, bastard.
Luckily Kleo stepped in with perfect Mulican and fumbled apologetically for some papers out of her satchel. Ash understood bits and pieces of the conversation as she tried to look feeble and stare at the paving slabs. She could see Kleo play the part of Mulican local to a T. She changed her voice and accent to sound airy and sing-songy. She bewitched the hapless guard with a flash of her eyes and a gentle touch to his wrist as she showed him the papers. Whatever thoughts of argument he might have had vanished as he got caught up drooling over the violet Pegasus.
In a moment of scrambled brains, the guard completely disregarded Ash to fawn over the suddenly flirtatious Kleo. A short while later, following a dainty wave from the purple mare, they were on their way again.
"Word of advice," Kleo said, voice back to its usual huskiness, "doesn't matter the species, all stallions think with their cock. If you can play the part, you can flirt your way out of any bad mojo."
Ash grumbled, "I'll leave the smooth flirting to you, chica. I prefer to let my blades do the talking." She showed a glimpse of the thestrian sabre hidden under her hobo garment.
Kleo whistled, "where'd you cop that?"
"It's better you don't know," Ash said, hiding it again.
The streets of paved brick and fancy homes were broken by a wide iron gate. The gate was open and although there was another federal checkpoint, the soldiers that lounged in the shade of some palms didn't seem interested in asking for I.D. Ash suspected it would have been a different matter had they tried to enter the gated community as opposed to leaving it. As it was, they were probably happy she was vacating. The paved streets turned to sand and dust, the pavements became scratched and chipped, the spaced planters vanished and the terraced buildings became creamy white homes with arched windows. A few terracotta pots outside and covered in undulating, traditional clay tiles.
The locals on this side of town wore more simple working attire or nothing at all. Kids played a game of ball in the alleys as the breeze waved the few overhead wires that supplied power. There was a wide villa set back from the road, outside were tables and chairs, it was fairly busy as a half dozen servers flitted about with trays of tapas and pitchers of water and bottles of rum and wine. There were families here, kids played in between the tables much to the scorn of their mothers. They were typical working folk, and it was the first sign of normal living Ash had seen in a long while.
"Follow me, Hermosa," Kleo started as she made for the arched and covered side entrance, "bath house is at the back."
The bathhouse was really just a row of white plaster stalls, each with a wooden tub set inside. Kleo paid for them both, and once the transaction had been made, Kleo was left to bathe herself while a trio of white-clad Mule mares descended on Ash. She was Uncomfortable with the contact, as her poncho and hat were taken away - presumably to be cleaned, they removed her satchel and sabre, and a scared croak escaped the mare responsible as Ash snatched her Sabre back.
"Gracias," Ash said, "but I'll hold onto this. It's very sharp, dangerous." She demonstrated this fact by using the edge to effortlessly chop some of her fetlock furs away.
"Oh," the mare said with a dense accent, "please sit."
Ash didn't have a chance to sit as she was backed into the stall, where another mare had filled the tub with warm soapy water, the feeling as she was forcibly sunken to her neck was a combination of shocking and welcoming and her mind numbed to the mixed sensations.
They brought out stiff brushes to clean her with, but one of them paused the actions with a shout of Mulican, she gingerly lifted one of Ash's destroyed wings. The frame of her wing was visibly blackened and lacked the few proud feathers and webbed bat skin she once had. The mares all looked a little green once they'd seen them.
"Ten Cuidado," the mare said. Be careful.
To their credit, they were very gentle. Generously applying a lather and using spiky brushes to drag the matted fur away. Once they'd done as much as they could with her legs, sides and haunches while avoiding her wings. One sat half at the edge of the tub right in front of Ash's nose and used a small cleaning kit to pamper and moisturise her face. The small pinpricks from all the cacti spikes she'd suffered during her tumble from the bandit camp were still sore, and she had to bite her tongue as the mare cleaned her up. She even used a small set of scissors to tidy the fur and trim and neaten her features.
Ash wasn't much for pampering, besides basic hygiene, she never dressed up, dolled up or even knew how to use a makeup brush or feminine grooming set. She was more interested in strengthening her body for physical altercations or sharpening her blades over her personal appearance.
She felt her tail being lathered and brushed, then her mane, there were too many small sensations for her to process and she felt the onset of sensory overload. Her legs became taut as she prepared to bolt out of the tub. Any thoughts about escape were washed from her as surely as the grime. One mare pulled a lever and looking up at the clunk sound, Ash was doused in cold water. Perhaps ten gallons washed over her and rinsed all the foam off as slats at the bottom of the tub opened to flush all the brown murky water out.
She came out spluttering, pushing the two mares in front of her backwards. Her fur was still clumped in places and hung over her eyes and face. She felt better but still annoyed at the forced bath. She shook like a sheepdog and sprayed water all over.
Next, they sat her down on a tiled terrace and used large metal combs and sharp shears to cut most of her fur back, the relief was immediate as the snags and clumps had been pulling at her skin and making her achy and sore. One of them, a pretty young thing of slight features, brown fur and chocolate eyes hung within Ash's breathing space to cautiously resume trimming the fur around her neck and face. She cut it quickly, neatly and professionally. Ash had never been able to afford a mane stylist or likewise grooming service growing up, she'd always resorted to doing it herself.
Her wings were left alone, although they did cut the fur back a lot around the area. Thinning it out with wide-toothed scissors and combs. Kleo had appeared before her. Her dark violet coat and short jaw-length off-black mane and tail were immaculate and shiny. She looked every bit the upper-echelon canterlot Pegasus, not like how she'd appeared back on the Equestrian border and quite out of place within Mulico.
The Mulico Mares stepped back and Ash stood up tall. She was head and neck taller than the locals and chin-to-eyes with Kleo. She also probably had thirty kilos on the Pegasus. Although she felt remarkably lighter and more sprightly given her cleanse. She took a deep breath and couldn't have been more grateful for surviving the desert. She gave a mental prayer to Princess Luna - whether the Mare in the Moon was listening or not, she didn't know.
"You look good, Hermosa," Kleo said as she circled Ash. Her long coat had been chopped back and neatly untacked along her body, legs and rump. She felt silky and relished the idea of flight and the feel of the wind over her contoured coat. "Shame about your wings," the Pegasus added.
"Yeah well, at least I'm still breathin'," Ash grumbled. She turned to face the three wash mares, "muchas gracias, chicas," she thanked them.
"And thanks to you, Kleo. For paying I mean," she said a little bashfully.
Kleo sank a hip, "it's being added to your tab, mare, don't think anything in this biz is free."
"I won't," Ash promised, "but I'm just saying… I'm grateful, is all. Can we get something to eat?" She said as her stomach grumbled embarrassingly loudly, "I'm starving."
"You are looking a little thin now I can see you properly," Kleo tutted softly.
The Pegasus spoke in quick bursts of Mulico and before Ash knew it they were sitting in a recessed, shaded and privately lit alcove at the back inside the restaurant. She hadn't been given a menu, but they'd brought Tapas dishes of bread and olive oil, olives on bread, goat cheese stuffed in roasted tomatoes, breaded squid, tortilla wedges and finally plenty of wine and water.
"Compliments of the house," their waiter said in flawless Equestrian.
At the back behind the kitchen was a fat Mule, he had a crop of black mane and a cigar in his mouth. He lifted his cigar as if to salute the mares with a shark-like smile. It was friendly and warm. The perfect facsimile of the family restaurant owner. But something in his eyes put Ash on edge, something only experience with these kinds of ponies could teach you.
"Who's the boss?" Ash mumbled through a mouthful of olives and bread.
Kleo finished eating, and wiped her mouth with a stitched handkerchief, before she said, "that's El Cocinero."
"The cook?" Ash said, looking up from a ravaged omelette.
"The Chef," Kleo corrected, "this place - El Pozo de Agua, or water well, acts as mutual space for the syndicates to talk things down. There's no violence permitted here and inside Lecharia as a whole. Well, more or less. Makes it a pretty sweet spot for us to conduct business. Don't have to worry about much, and our product goes out safely, we don't get bothered by the Federales or Syndicate enforcers."
Ash had stuffed half a dozen portions of fried squid, olives on bread and sliced tortilla down, chugged a pitcher of water and was now on her second glass of wine as the waiter topped their water and brought more food. Kleo by contrast ate rather daintily, but Ash supposed that was Pegasi for you.
"Hungry?" Kleo asked sardonically with a bemused smile.
"I was stuck in the desert with barely any food or water for five days, I'm lucky I got out alive," as she spoke, specks of food flew out rudely to splat against the plate of omelette she was devouring.
"Well, eat your fill, then I'll take you to a friendly place to get your wings looked at."
"Mmmhmmm," Ash said as she ate five squid rings in one go. Already her gut was rumbling with the sheer amount of food, but only after eating five more tapas dishes and with a final glass of wine did she feel satisfied.
She returned a nod to Kleo who signalled to hold off the next wave of tapas dishes. The two mares sipped water and left to begin a conversation about the state of the city, its inhabitants and the gangs Ash would need to become familiar with if she was to work for them.
Ash snagged her clean poncho and sombrero from a drying line, they felt soft and smelled half decent. Once dressed, they'd begun walking for Kleos 'safe house.' All Ash knew was it was on the other side of Lecharía near a canal crossing.
"So you've got El Presidente Calédula, right?" Kleo began.
"Right," Ash parotted. "He's the boss then?"
"Kind of," she said, "Calédula controls the federal army, and has all the generals in his pocket. He also has ties to the cartels and syndicates that run the city's underbelly. No one organisation is strong enough to muscle out the others, so they divide the city into territories, they each have security teams, enforcers, intel, counter intel," she elaborated with a hoof swivel as they moved through row after row of terracotta-topped white homes.
"It's rare for the cartels to push outright violence directly against another, and there are harsh punishments set in place from the cartel's board - that's the bigwigs who pretend to be friends, but in reality, they're all holding a knife behind their backs - should they step out of line. So they use proxy gangs and mercs to stir things up and do the dirty work. That's kind of where our operation comes in."
"But while El Presidente splits his time between his golden room of court jesters and holidaying in the Mulican tropics, the Mayor of the city, Cielo Azul, runs a pretty strict ship in terms of actually dealing with the syndicates. They've tried for the last two years to replace her with someone bribable, but the mares got balls. Last week the syndicates were stirred up big time when a drug operation was hit by Mayor Azuls corps of Guadia Civil. They seized a lot of important stuff, and detained or killed several of the Cartels' top Lieutenants. They're a city-wide police force. Well trained, equipped and all staunchly anti-cartel. The cartel overlords use their enforcers to set traps and the intel teams of each Cartel and affiliated Syndicates use counter intel to leak fake deals and other targets too juicy for the Guardia Civil to ignore. They also target the families of cops and soldiers loyal to Mayor Azul and make it hard for them to do their jobs, personally, I just think it secures the Mulican folk against the gangs, rather than helps the Cartels."
Ash's interest was piqued, her ears swivelling to pay close attention to what the violet Pegasus was telling her.
"There are four quarters to the city: Norte, Este, Sur, Oeste." She clarified for Ash quickly, "or North, West, East, South. Simple enough, right? But here's where it gets complicated." They turned a corner and ended up close to Lecharía Station, Ash could see the glass roof over the homes, in the midst of the upper-class district it was nestled between.
"You've got Los Chacales, or Jackals to the North. They're the city's primary outlaw group, they're responsible for almost every stagecoach, locomotive and bank robbery from here to the Mulican Gulf. Nasty, territorial and the most troublesome to deal with.
"In the East, there's the grupo coyotes de cobre. Or Copper Coyote Posse. They're a mining syndicate, they started off with copper, expanded, took over the other mining corps, next they went to coal, then iron, then emeralds…" she trailed off as they neared the canal and turned to follow it, riverboats and fishing vessels were docked all along the boardwalk. "They're also a big user of Zebrican slave labour, which they get from our next cartel in the south.
"The Black Dragon gang, south of the city. They're probably the most vicious and wicked of the four. Their leader Teldaris is rumoured to be an actual dragon from the far east, although no pony has ever seen him. Whoever he is, he controls his gang through a system of mirrors; ponies who talk to each other, and relay messages, but no one has direct access to another mirror or knows anything about them or their boss. They use griffons as muscle, and control the Zebrican slave trades in this region, even pushing their merchandise into Equestria, Griffonia and the Cerividian Hegemony where they can."
They paused at a dirt intersection where three carts holding covered cages rolled past. "Speaking of merchandise…" Kleo trailed off. The mule-pulling teams ignored the Mares but the pair of mean-looking Griffins atop each gave them an investigative scowl.
Although covered, Ash could see the striped bodies chained inside and felt a pang of something, maybe empathy, for the Zebrican slaves. She'd never met a slave, nor knew much about it. She just knew it was outlawed within the walls of the Thestrian cities, much to the protest of the trading guilds and plantation owners who had to employ ponies instead of buying them outright, not that they paid their workers well. Although indentured servitude was prevalent in bat pony society, it wasn't quite the same thing. A servant was a volunteer and skilled in something or other, they usually agreed on a term of service, although Ash had heard tales of Thestrals disappearing into servitude or their contracts never really ending. Maybe that was why Zebrican slaves were outlawed, too illegal even for the Thestrian elite.
As the carts vanished down a backroad, Ash noted the sun had almost vanished behind distant mountains, there was a shimmer of heat now instead of the oppressive boil she was enduring before. "Poor fuckers, they'll be sent down the copper mines or shipped to plantations in South Mulico. Harsh conditions, either way." Kleo said.
"Last, but definitely not least is our umbrella syndicate, that's who we're employed under, Cártel de Lecharía. They started right here before the rest of them moved in. Before the federal army swept the gang violence under the rug and the cartel board was set up to keep the peace. Although Lecheria is neutral territory today, like I said, so most of the gang is away in the east of the city.
"You remember Nerja?" She asked abruptly.
"I remember," Ash replied.
"Good," Kleo said as they entered an area of dead ground where the canal crossing was. "she's our main gal in the world, but she answers to somepony else, who'll you'll meet tomorrow." On the opposite side of the bridge was a foggy veil of dark brick industrial estates, smoke stacks pumped sooty smog into the sky, and dirty workers left one factory as the whistle for hometime sounded.
"It's in here," Kleo indicated and they waltzed into the open warehouse of a steel mill. There were dirty mules and ponies of all colours working tirelessly using machines to cut steel beams and check them along an assembly line. Ash had no idea what they were making.
She didn't have time to look around, her attention shifted to her hooves as she nearly slipped down a small flight of stairs, she followed Kleo into an underground storage room. There was a grungy off-room of peeling brick and cracked mortar. There was an old Mule wearing a vest coat and slacks with spectacles on his square face, he was sitting at a desk flicking through some papers under a dim office lamp. There was another pony at the back, hidden in shadows and checking off their clipboard.
Kleo caught the mules' attention with a wave and quick burst of Mulican. He chuckled and said something back, "hiding from the work as always," she said.
He smiled a row of gapped teeth, "a good worker is hard to find, don't you know?" Then his attention snapped to Ash and his smile vanished, "Who's your friend?"
"Ash, this is Dr Capistrano. He's our gangs' surgeon, each gang has their own. Usually, they don't help each other unless ordered to by the head honchos. Doctor, this is Ash, a stray we're taking in. Her wings need some therapy."
The Mules' brow creased and he pushed his thin spectacles back onto the bridge of his muzzle. "I see," he murmured, then got up and moved to a short medical cot. "Please remove your clothes and take a seat young filly," he said politely.
Ash did as instructed and was soon sitting with her back to the Mule and her hind legs dangling from the edge of the cot. He was in her blind spot as he looked over her wings with a hum and stroke of his chin. "A unicorn is responsible for this, yes?" He asked.
"That's right," Ash said with rising distaste, "fucker shot me out of the sky over the Equestrian border. Had to march 5 days through the southern desert to get here. Not much food or water." She swallowed thickly, and although she had eaten and drank enough for three ponies, her perilously close call over the sands made her feel perpetually famished and dehydrated.
He hummed again, "Impressive survival instincts. Magic caused this, and yet…" he trailed off. "Clam, come here please."
The pony in the back set the clipboard down and came over as they cleared their throat. She was tall, lanky and a dark Auburn colour. A unicorn, no less. Ash glared at the horn on her head with no small amount of distrust and suspicion. She had aquamarine eyes like the deepest lakes, blonde hair as silky and as perfect as Ash had ever seen and a small robe of black and red that covered her metallic coat.
"Yes, doctor?" Her voice was soft and gentle, maybe even soothing.
"This Thestral had her wings burned by another unicorn, they don't look beyond repair. Magical regeneration ought to do the trick, I think."
"Of course," she said and moved to replace the Doctor at Ash's back.
Her horn lit with a tingle-ringing sound and a slight warmth enveloped Ash's back. She tensed, eyes clenched shut. She didn't want to act like a foal, but thinking back to the memory of her wings tearing apart while she spiralled into the ground made her feel really, really scared.
With a slight breathless groan, the magic stopped and the Unicorn appeared in Ash's peripheral vision. "How do you feel?" She asked. "Do you think you could extend your wings for me?" Her voice was placating, silky, calming. The magic-user unnerved Ash simply by what she was, but Ash tried not to judge a pony by their stink.
She nodded and carefully tried to make her wings spread out. They crept slowly, stiff from disuse and covered in char from the burns. With a slight ache, they were at about half spread when the pain started to flare up again. "That's about all you'll get," Ash grunted through gritted teeth.
"Ok, that's lovely."
The magical aura started again and this time Ash was able to keep her eyes from shutting entirely. There wasn't any pain, if anything it was a nice feeling. Like having your coat brushed gently by your mother. The taut discomfort lessened and Ash tried to move her wings outwards more. This time the resistance came a bit later as the magical tingle stopped again.
"This could take a while," Claim said to Dr Capistrano.
"Take as long as you need, dear," he said. "I have some business to discuss with our Miss Kleo here, anyhow."
Ash didn't mean to, but she must have levelled her best don't leave me alone, look as Kleo gave her a gentle rub on her neck, "you'll be fine. Clam's great, don't sweat it. I'll be back soon, we'll catch forty winks later and then you can meet the boss tomorrow."
"Sounds swell," Ash said unconvincingly. She hated the thought of being left alone with the unicorn.
The healing and stretching antics had gone on long enough that Ash's flanks had gone numb from sitting on the cot and she'd started to feel chilly due to the underground status of the decrepit old room.
"We can take a break if you like?" Clam spoke for the first time in a while.
"Ok," Ash agreed.
Clam came around and went to the back room, she flicked a switch and a dim hum emitted from a pair of lights on the ceiling. There was another cot hanging on the side wall next to some filing cabinets behind Dr. Capistrano's desk, and a small fireplace that was full of soot and cigarette butts. Ash blew into her hooves as she stood to get the blood flowing.
Clam came back over and put two crystal glasses on the desk, then poured them both a healthy dose of whiskey. Ash took the glass and drank it immediately. Clam looked like she'd wanted to toast something, and her ears turned down as she resolved to drink in silence. Ash took the bottle and refilled their glasses.
"So, Clam, what's a unicorn doing in Mulico? Thought you guys never left your ivory castle in Canterlot." She knocked the second back with a gasp and poured a third as the unicorn looked at the soot-filled fireplace with a detached expression. She fiddled with the tumbler, idly swilling the whiskey.
"I was an orphan, they picked me up from a raided caravan. Gave me some old spell books, put me to work. And," she drew out with a sigh, "I've never left."
Ash poured a fourth slug for herself and a new one for Clam as the mare finally finished hers. The unicorn's eyes were watery, but not exactly sad. She looked like a wounded animal, vaguely dangerous and unpredictable. Ash wasn't very well experienced with Unicorns, having never talked to any before, but rumours had them as uppity and impolite ponies with personality complexes. Too much magic in their veins. She didn't know how much truth there was in that.
"But now that you're grown, you could head for home, get out of this life." Ash started, to a slow turn from Clam, "you don't exactly look suited to it."
"This is my home," she said with a frown. "Only home I've ever known, anyhow. Doubt there'd be a place for me in Canterlot, or wherever I'm originally from." She shrugged, "Far as I'm concerned, I'm from Mulico, now. As sure as shit stems from an outhouse."
"Do you remember your parents?"
"Listen, respectfully, I don't usually talk to strangers about my particulars. All you need to know is I can fix you if you're hurt, I also turn raw emeralds into cut gems and fence any… misplaced jewellery. Savvy? So if you happen across any while out in the city, bring them to me and I'll pay you for them."
Ash hummed and downed her last slug, her head was swimming nicely, her vision had become diluted and her senses fuzzy. Comfortable - that was how she felt. She moved to the coat hook where she had slung her poncho, sombrero and satchel with her sabre. Reaching into the satchel she dug around, finding the silver earrings she'd acquired from the young pickpocket.
The amethyst crystals shone, they were polished but a little glassy at their core. That meant they weren't as fine quality, but Amethyst was almost as valuable as Sapphire, another non-magical gem which ponies coveted for its inert magical nature, supposed emotional healing properties, and to the more superstitious - the warding against dark magics.
Clam grasped them from Ashs' hoof in her magic and looked at them with scrutiny. Pulling a jeweller's loupe from a drawer and glueing it to one blue eye. She inspected the earrings, turning them, rotating her head, and turning them over again. After a while, she hummed and said, "they're nice, chica. Very nice."
"Very valuable?" Ash prodded.
"Hmm, they're good. Not perfect. But…" she drew out with a hiss through her teeth. "I expect I could fetch a hundred bits from my contact. I work on a 20 per cent cut, leave them with me and I'll give you 80 per cent of whatever I negotiate. Could take a few days, I need to draw up a legit-looking bill of sale." She trailed off, turned and rifled through a drawer at the back to leave Ash for a moment.
There was a knock at the door, and Kleo and Dr Capistrano walked in. "Are you gals playing nice?" The Mule asked.
"We're done, Doctor," Clam said gently. "Ash, come back tomorrow and every other day for a week. We'll get you back in the air again, but you'll need some flying rehab."
"I can do that," Kleo said. "No problema."
"Ok," Clam said and wrote a note in a journal, "I'll send a scroll to Cloudsdale, see if they have any Pegasi rehab material."
Capistrano procured a single key and a small note from his vest pocket, "there's a spare room above the mill, next building down. Kleo will show you where, that's where you'll stay for now, and some forged Identification papers, it'll keep the Federales off your back, but if Kleo hasn't already told you, the Guardia Civil are the ones to watch out for. Very scrupulous. "
She took the key and I.D slowly, "thank you," Ash said, "but I can't afford to give you anything right now."
"It's on the house, until we get you to work and then you're on your own, figuratively speaking." Capistrano chuckled gently, "you do good and earn your way, you'll always have somepony you can count on."
Kleo slapped her on the shoulder and she nearly jumped, "but cause any problems and you'll vanish faster than Doc's wife can unbutton her overalls."
"Hey!" Capistrano shouted, half seriously. "Keep my wife's name out your mouth, dammit."
The corner of Kleos lips turned up, "come on," she gave Ash a knock towards her belongings. Ash thanked Doc and the Unicorn again. Having gone in with low expectations, and come out with more promise than she could hope for. As they walked out through the mil, past the silent metal working stations, Ash said, "why are you guys being so generous? You don't know me, shit I didn't even do much for you in the way of work."
"That's where you're wrong, I know who you are. Thestral law ponies came around our camp, shortly after we met. We tipped them off, we didn't owe you any loyalty. Didn't want them sniffing around, sorry."
Ash halted walking, "are you serious?" She tried not to raise her voice but the anger she felt was rising. "I nearly died, their leaders a fucking nut job! He scalped two Stallions for next to fuck all, just for kicks. Would have done me as well, but I threw myself off a cliff to get away." Her wings had started to extend in indignity.
Kleo looked at the burned appendages with a little sorrow, "like I said, chica, we couldn't afford them sniffing around. Had to turn them away, told them you'd robbed us for a map, told them where you'd likely gone. They said they knew you were looking for that maneless pony, and the rest was left up to god."
Kleo turned so they were face-to-face, "that's why we feel like we owe you now. Nerja said if you showed up, give you food, water, a bed and time to heal. Thought you'd need it, don't think she knew how right she was." Kleo started walking again and Ash kept pace, but her disdainful look was still trained on the violet Pegasus.
"Look, I can 'preciate you're upset about it, but it wasn't nothing personal. Now you're here, we know you're skilled, hungry, and above all, you've proven you're tenacious and willing to do anything to survive. A mare like that always has her uses."
Ash faced forward with a forced breath, "you don't know shit about me, mare."
"Believe me. We ain't so different."
They made it around the back of a similar steel mill and trotted along a fence that divided the mill from a storage house and up a set of rickety sun-scorched steps. The frame groaned with their weight, and then they were at a thick wooden door. Kleo stepped aside, and Ash plugged the key the Doc had gifted her. The lock opened with a resistant clunk and opened on unoiled hinges to show a short lengthways hall with two rooms and no windows. The floorboards were threadbare and the light from the overhead lamps from the factory floor below shone through, as did the noise of the still-active workplace.
There was a cot with rolled mattress, a lamp, a single chair, a nightstand and a cabinet. In the other room was a cramped bathroom, shower and washbasin, and a tiled hole in the ground. Ash stepped into the hall and put her sombrero on the coat hook that was wonkily nailed to the wall between the two rooms.
"Home sweet home," Kleo said.
Ash unrolled the mattress, it was crumpled, and stiff and had a giant brown stain almost corner to corner. She turned to look at Kleo with a raised eyebrow.
"Like I said," Kleo said as she started to leave, "cause any problems, you'll get disappeared." She shut the door, "sweet dreams!"
"Charming," Ash said to herself. She settled in, had a quick wash in the basin in the next room, locked the door and rested the chair against the latch. It was dark out now and even if it hasn't been, Ash was dead on her hooves. She put herself on the cot and was lights out immediately.