Fallout: Equestria - Murky Number Seven

by FuzzyVeeVee

The Great Game

    “Was it any different, being his assistant?”

    Different from what?

    “Slavery.”

    Well he didn't strike me or shout at me. I guess that was better...

    “You don't really sound convinced.”

    Of course I'm not.  Slavery is slavery and I was still having to respond to his beck and call.  The difference was I was knowingly disliking it and wishing not to have to do so.  It felt more open or even honest if you want to call it that. I was a slave who didn't want to be a slave, kept by a master who didn't want to have to be one.

    All the same, I can't deny that, from a sheer practical level, it was a massive improvement.  In one clean decision, he'd saved me from Chainlink Shackles and the inevitable nightmare that would have descended upon me had I went back to him.  Me being free from him, albeit still in the machine of Fillydelphia under Protégé, meant that I could focus on other things.

    “Like getting your friends away too?”

    Yes!  I hated leaving them behind.  There was a lot of guilt but we all knew this was for the best.  With me away and with Protégé admitting he wished them free as well, I knew that I had to find a way to smuggle, steal or otherwise acquire them from him.  Be it simply sneaking them out or finding some way to make them Protégé's stock as well didn't matter, it was simply a race against time before anything happened to them.

    Glimmerlight had tried to calm me by saying he might leave them alone with me gone, but we both knew that wasn't true.  They would likely suffer the hardest shifts and the worst attentions if I didn't get them out quickly. If I had to come back to even one of them...g-gone...

    S-sorry, just a...yeah, I'd try to find a way, yet there were other advantages, too.  With my newfound freedom by Protégé's side in his work, I would have access to the logistic hub of Fillydelphia.  I made it my intent to steal and 'misplace' as much as my gleeful little thieving hooves could manage from the supplies or information contained there.  Anything would be helpful for the final effort.

    Of course, there was one greater prize than that.

    Pinkie Pie's spell orb had shown me some of the truths to look at and help point me in the right direction.  We'd been right about the metro being our salvation. Having that confirmed was a wonderful feeling. A way out was specifically built into it that zebra spies used to use to escape the city.  If we wanted to use the metro, our best bet rather than aimlessly digging through infested caves was to find whatever it was before Shackles and his slaver 'council' managed to locate what they were looking for down there.

    I had more than a suspicion that whatever Aurora Star was making there had something to do with all this.  I may have been a dumb, uneducated pony, but even I could put two and two together with at least a moderate chance of getting four.  The Ministry Station, I was betting, held the way out. At the very least it was linked into it.

    Of course, that left me part of the intrigue that had been running through the slavers long before I even arrived.  One that had sought to tear the mall away from Protégé and kill him off from the running. Now to find my own freedom, I had to aid a slaver against his enemies.

    Then simply hope that he and I wouldn't come to a confrontation over our real objective in the end...

    “Murk?”

    There was a voice attempting to stir me.  I didn't want to hear it. Right now, I was safe, comfortable and warm. No, no I didn't want to listen to any voices.  Hazily, I could sense a thick blanket over me.

    “Murk, wake up.”

    The words cut through the sleepy haze and forced their way into my warm little world.  Oh just go away, I was so comfy here, the most I'd ever been in my life.  I was having a really good dream as well. Let me go back to it. Lazily, I lifted a hoof out from under the warm covers and waved it to send the intruder away.

    Annoyance taken care of, I drew it back in again.  With a grateful sigh, I twisted further into the covers and tried to drift back into that same dreamland again.  That was better. Now, Miss Pip...where were we?

    “Murk, if you don't get up right now I shall have Ragini fetch a pail of water from the fountain.”

    Wait...huh?

    With a sudden shock of reality, I felt everything annoyingly melt away to leave me staring at a blank beige wall and lying in a bed with the biggest sense of not wanting to move I'd ever felt.  Shifting reluctantly under the covers I sat up and wearily opened my eyes.

    The sight of Protégé standing by the bed was enough to drop a figurative dash of cold water over my mind.  Bolting upright, I rubbed my eyes.

    “I...huh...wha?”

    His eyes narrowed.

    “You were supposed to be up an hour ago, Murk.  The tasks I set out for you this morning to arrange things have already been done.  I trust this won't be an ongoing problem, will it?”

    Even as he reprimanded me, I just kept rubbing my mane with my hooves and across my forehead to try and wake up.  After my first lesson on reading (something I'd had a lot of trouble with) he had shown me to the spare room in his office area where I'd found, for the first time in my life, a real and proper bed!  It had thick covers and everything, giving me perhaps the best night’s sleep in my life had come from it. Unfortunately, that same comfort had now led to me oversleeping.

    “Sorry...really really sorry, mm...just tired...”

    “So I see.” Protégé sighed and turned to the door.  “Get yourself ready, Murk. We must leave the Mall within the hour if we want to dodge Shackles returning.  I've picked out a few things we'll be taking with us, so be ready to carry some bags. This is your job now after all.”

    Carrying out the soul crushing movement of leaving the warm covers, I swung myself to the edge of the bed and reached for my fleece.  The room was little more than a bed, a couple of shelves, and a bedside table, but it had been all I'd needed to feel comfortable for once.  I hoped there was another like it where we were going.

    “I'll, um, be up in future.  I promise!”

    “Don't worry, Murk.  I'm not going to punish you for this, merely ask that you keep better time in future.  Besides, I'd be something of a hypocrite if I did.”

    Turning back from his office, Protégé offered a small smirk.

    “After all, I did the exact same thing on my first day as well.  Now hurry up. We've got places to be.”

    Stumbling down stairs and veering from side to side in the corridors I had to quickly question Protégé's perception of a 'few' things.  Two saddlebags were draped over my torso bearing books and scraps of paper alongside my own small amount of belongings while trying to carry the replaced reading lamp around my neck.  The fact that Protégé trotted on with neater and smaller saddlebags only fuelled my annoyance. He'd said that it hardly cut a good impression upon those he needed to communicate with to be doing it himself.

    Not for the first time, I cast an aggravated glance at him as he trotted so much easier than I did under all this weight.  Apparently, this was the life of an assistant. At the very least it wasn't as bad as the factories or carts.

    “We will make for the FunFarm, Murk.  The logistics hub is off to its side, and there are a few errands to run across to the Alpha-Omega Hotel as well in service of our Master.”

    'Our' Master, Protégé?  Try yours.

    Really, I'd found it almost strange to so easily rebel quietly in my mind since my own revival.  It was fast becoming a source of strength that I could do so and feel confident that I meant it than all the pondering of resistance I'd done before.  Those days were over.

    We travelled downstairs, Protégé reading over a small notebook as he went.  Slaves passed us as they were directed onto the first shift of the day by Shackles' own followers.  I couldn't help but notice the glances they gave Protégé the moment he was past them.

    Truth be told, he was confusing me more than ever.  Since his return, he had seemed more dedicated than ever to Red Eye to the point that he was willing to fight some sort of shadow war against slavers within the city to try and maintain the status quo.  Yet at the same time, I'd see occasional glances at me or passing slaves. He truly wanted a better life for them. All the things he'd said before we went in to battle Barb felt so much more important for trying to understand this peculiar pony now.

    More to the point, after admitting our plan and even asking him, I had no idea where he really stood.  He didn't try to help us directly, but he wasn't exactly trying to stop us either. He wanted me free, but simply seemed too wrapped up in his own dreams of a better world for everypony under Red Eye to do anything about it.

    What about yourself, Protégé?  What about yourself?

    Reaching the bottom floor, we moved out to the main corridor where Protégé stopped me.

    “Ragini should join us soon. I'll be sending her on ahead with some instructions prior to my arrival.  You can rest for a minute or so.”

    I didn't need told to be twice, the saddlebags dropped the moment I heard the word 'rest' spoken.  The procession of slaves were still trooping out the doors into the street ahead of us and I could hear others being gathered behind.  If I wanted a chance, it'd have to be now.

    “Protégé?  Could I go say goodbye?  You said I'd get a chance, remember?”

    Still looking at his notebook for a few seconds, he lifted his head up and seemed to think before responding.

    “Yes, I did.  You've got five minutes, Murk.  You'll find them just outside the plaza, if I remember the schedules right.”

    “Thank you.” I didn't waste time in cantering off toward the plaza.  I knew the part he meant. It was just outside the guard room where we were often organised for the actual shift divisions.  Upon arrival, I could clearly see them beginning to troop out and Brim's head rising well above the rest. If any of the guards gave thoughts to bringing me in, they immediately kept any thoughts quiet with Brim around.

    “Murk.” He nodded briefly as I trotted up to him.  I found myself trotting to one side, staring at the hole where his eye had once resided made me feel awkward.  The fact that this didn't seem to bother him that much spoke volumes about the raider mentality toward injury, and expectations of their life.

    “I just wanted to come and see you all again before I left with Protégé.  To say thank you...”

    “Mm.  You've said it about forty times now since you woke up in the hospital, and I'll still say the same thing.  We weren't going to let you go. If I have to accept what I am and direct that to protecting others then that's something I can be happy with.  Coral Eve was right, giving up in some last rebellious instinct isn't worth it. I hope you see that now too.”

    “I do...” Sniffing and nodding, I briefly placed a hoof on his leg.  “I just hate leaving you all.”

    Brimstone snorted a little, clearly not quite as sentimental when it simply made sense for me to get out of here when I could.  Sometimes I found it hard to really judge that cold, practical intelligence he had.

    “So long as that kid can keep to his word to protect you.”

    I wanted to tell them that I at the very least trusted Protégé's word, even if I was still unsure where his loyalties truly lay, but my ears instead picked up a bit of a commotion approaching.  One all too familiar.

    “It doesn't even matter!”

    “Yes it does!  You come out all high and mighty to me and say you're trying to be better, and then I find you stripping it out all over again!?”

    “I'm not forgetting it!  It's just...just not how I want to see him!”

    Brimstone only now began to hear it too and turned his head as we both saw Coral and Glimmer coming near the doorway out of the plaza.  Coral Eve was pointing a hoof accusingly.

    “It's an addiction!  The entire point is you don't think it matters for just one little thing!  You've gotten so used to doing it that there's always that temptation!  You don't have any will to resist that for all your words!”

    “Seeing him lying dead in a hospital bed was just destroying me, Coral!  I...I didn't even sleep last night, I just kept seeing him again and again!”

    Glimmer was half pleading and half arguing, but Coral just stomped a hoof and bared her teeth.

    “Perhaps if you hadn't spent last night screwing some buck you likely don't even remember the name of while drunk off your head, you might remember him being alive again better!  You say you can handle the truth of the past, but you can't even handle remembering a friend almost dying.  How are you going to cope with seeing our friends and family butchered on the earth of Creaky Hollow?”

    “I will!  I...I'm trying, Murky's helping me and...and...”

    I could only see this firing up further.  I galloped in between them.

    “Please!  Stop arguing!”

    Both immediately turned as they heard me.

    “Coral, she is trying really hard. I...I've seen what she's seen.  It's not easy but she's trying!” I turned back to Glimmerlight. “But I'm here, I'm okay. You don't need to strip memories, please...”

    There was a small moment of silence between them as the tensions simmered down.  Clearly neither wanted this little moment of goodbye to be filled with argument. Sighing deeply, Coral cast a look at Glimmer that communicated all her bitter disappointment and turned down to me.

    “I'm sure she is.  Are you leaving now?”

    “Uh-huh, Protégé's just waiting for Ragini before we go off to work.”

    Glimmerlight took a few moments to suck in some air after their exchange, only now joining us.

    “At least you'll be safe, lil'bro.  Just remember what I told you, we all wanted this for you.  Something even Coral and I agreed on.”
   
    Clearly seeking some common ground for the moment, I saw them share a reluctant nod.

    “I know...and Protégé says he wants you all away from Shackles too.  He's going to help me find a way, and if he gets any way to demand some slaves he'll do it.  We won't leave you behind.”

    “That's good, Murky.” Coral seemed a little dubious, but any hope was better than nought.  “We'll be safe enough, we've lasted this long remember? You concentrate on what you need to do.  Now come here...”

    She leaned down, giving me a tight embrace for a few moments.

    “Just remember you're a free pony now.”

    “I will...”

    “Good.”

    She let go, trotting on by to leave me with Glimmerlight.  She looked somewhat ashamed, lifting a small orb from her saddlebag.

    “I'm sorry, Murky.  I...I just couldn't stand lying awake alone and seeing you like that over and over...I-I know I shouldn't have.  I just, well...”

    I didn't give her time to fall back into losing hope, simply moving forward and hopping up on my hind legs to hug her around the neck.

    “I think you'll do it, sis’.” The words were about as comforting as I could think up on the spot, but feeling her hooves wrap back around me as she sat down to support herself I knew it at least meant something.  “I know you can.”

    Gently, I felt her stroke my feathers on my back and saw her try to smile again.  “If you can do what you've done, I'll keep going as well. Go make us proud.”

    “I'll try.”

    Both standing back up, I met her eyes and saw her push a smile through again.  “Just look forward to us getting to check out all the cool stuff you nick from them and sharing all the little drawings you do when you're away.  It won't be long I know, but it'll all be better for this. We're on the upswing, Murky. Look on this as a chance!”

    Nodding firmly, I smiled back.  Yes, this was going to be a big boost to us!

    “So I've got three tips for you!”

    Blinking, I cocked my head to the side.  Huh?

    “Tip one!  If you can get me a proper gun repair kit I'll be able to maybe fix up some of the stuff those idiots throw away thinking it's broken.  With a quick scrapyard visit we could get some real weapons then. Tip two! If you're in logistics, see if you can't get some travelling bags from the wagons.  A few things like flint, weather cloaks, and water filters could go a long way. Oh, maybe even see about some proper explosives too, just in case we need to blow our way out.  Stash it all somewhere we can get to afterwards. Sound good?”

    Grinning at the sound of all this wasteland stuff, I nodded.  “Real good! Um...you said three hints?”

    I grinned. She positively beamed in return, shoving all her worries back to let my last little moment with them for now be a happy one. She bent down to my ear.

    “Tip three, showing just enough to make them fill in the rest themselves is better than showing all.”

    I blinked for a few seconds.  “What...what does that mean?”

    “It's a tip to stick with you forever, Murky.  It'll bring you a lot of fun if you live by it!  You'll understand someday! Now, off you go.”

    Shaking my head and chuckling, I hugged her once before and turned to go.  There was just enough time to stop and wave to the three of them as they entered their lines, exchanging a brief goodbye.

    Be safe my friends.  I won't let you linger long.

    Showing just enough...what on Equestria did she mean by that anyway?  What did that have to do with anything?

    If getting down the stairs from his office was bad, this was worse.

    Protégé was taking the direct route, cutting across small alleyways and larger roads alike to reach the FunFarm.  Even on such a strange direction, my own route was somewhat more meandering under the weight of packages and bags slumped over me.  Staggering from side to side every few feet, I desperately tried to keep the lamp from falling from around my neck while balancing his armour's breastplate on my back between the saddlebags.

    In hindsight, why couldn't he have just worn it?  For all his intelligence, he certainly could be impractical at times!

    “Now, Murk.” Protégé dropped his pace back as we entered the last road up to the FunFarm.  “There is something I need to go over with you before we go here. You won't like it, but it has to happen.”

    “I'm not going to have to wear chains am I...?”

    He shook his head.  “Of course not. However, there is a bit of an expectation amongst many of our peers in the higher ranks that workers understand their place.  I'd rather you not receive their ire, you will have to call me 'Master' when we are around others.  Can you do that?”

    I couldn't hide the look of annoyance on my face.  With my cutie mark's new meaning in my mind, I didn't want to call anypony that ever again!  Seeing the look on my face, Protégé only sighed.

    “I know after all you've told me that you don't like it, Murk.  Think of it just as a disguise if you really want to. It's just to keep them off your back.  You are my assistant, there is a lot of emphasis put on rank within this place, and in these times ponies are more insistent about who lies where than ever.”

    His face turned somewhat more serious.

    “If you fail to do so, I will have to reprimand you about it.  This is my world in here, I cannot be seen to be weak or losing my authority.”

    I sighed.  “Okay...”

    “Okay, what?”

    I almost stamped the ground in frustration.  “We're not even there!”

    “Yet there are, I count, eight overseers to our immediate right resting outside that old wagon park station.  What if one overheard? That word can spread, Murk. Every ounce of perception matters these days, and I don't have many neutral parties in my favour as it is.  You will address me by the title, Murk.”

    We had actually stopped, staring at each other briefly, a conflict of identity already starting to form.  He'd given me a chance to get away from Shackles, only to turn around and request that I call him my master now around anypony else?  Make them think I was some slave all over again? It was like he didn't even care how I felt now!

    Unfortunately, he was always going to win a stare-down of willpower.  I knew Protégé was right, if anything it would help me, too. Be the grey pony, don't stand out and become a centre of attention.  That could aid me as much as annoy me...

    “Okay, master...” I muttered from the side of my mouth.

    “Better, Murk.  I cannot afford any problems today.  There is a power gap to be filled, those of higher rank are to nominate the candidates to fall in line behind Stern in the seniority of Fillydelphia.  The mare who holds it currently is soon to pass away. The moment that happens, nominations go down for the replacement. This is a crucial moment in Fillydelphian politics.”

    “Wouldn't Red Eye put you in?” I saw his eye glance at me.  “Master...”

    “Master Red Eye cannot dictate everything, Murk.  Slavers need some outlet, some source of control on their lives.  They are not ponies who like being simply subservient, rather the other way around.  If they feel they can rise in seniority or affect who does, it helps placate them. Make no mistake though, it's hardly as democratic as it sounds.  From Master Red Eye to Stern to whoever tends to be the strongest among them usually. This will be the first time the system has been tested since its inception, I'll explain more to you later on how it works.  Now come on, we're almost there.”

    The trot up to the FunBarn caught me by surprise.  I expected us to go in through the main door or even the side entrance I'd once used myself.  Instead, Protégé took us around the side of the gigantic pink building (Just smile...) to the somewhat less highly decorated rear.  I'd never seen this side of the FunFarm before, the way it stretched out with hastily constructed materials to form a corridor linking into a nearby warehouse.  Red Eye clearly had at some point outgrown the FunBarn's limited space and connected it to the nearest building he could to better house all the organising required for such a vast operation.  The link between them was heavily guarded and sectioned off, as though this warehouse behind it was part of the FunBarn itself rather than just a handily positioned expansion outside the FunFarm's fence.

    “This, Murk, is the logistics hub for Fillydelphia.” Protégé indicated the warehouse.  “The FunBarn's big, but it gets mostly used for scientific study and data these days. The logistical demand long outgrew it and we now use this for all the incoming and outgoing food, water, medicine, ammo, and materials checking and distribution organising.”

    A huge chunk on the side of it had been roughly cut away, acting as a massive open door.  Inside it, I could see scaffold formed into shelves that slaves wandered between, their errands following designated letters or numbers mounted on the sides and glancing at sheets of paper.  Behind them lay stacks of crates in a perpetual state of movement. Some were being dropped off, others filled by the slaves trawling the shelves for items, a few were being emptied and packaged into smaller boxes upon carts, and other larger boxes planted onto armoured wagons.

    “Everything you see here is either being directed to where in Fillydelphia needs it, or addressed to where out in the wastes requires it.  Those workers are filling in any missing items or removing extras for stockpiling. We can't waste anything by risking over or under supply in this city, Murk.  Not that it doesn't still happen...”

    We trotted through the organised chaos of the warehouse floor.  True to his usual manner, I could see no whips lashing or canes beating.  Most of the slavers stood around barking orders at the very most. Judging by what I knew, I could see the slaves in here were, if anything, rather content compared to what else they could be doing in Fillydelphia.  One even hummed to himself without being told off while he wandered the shelves and looked for something amongst empty ammo boxes.

    The little part of me that took glee in 'acquiring' things for myself was rather beside himself with imagining running riot here taking things for our effort.  Or just taking some of this stuff in general. They had everything! I could see glue sticks, tools, light bulbs, empty bottles, cutlery, clothes hangers, and even stacks of freshly printed paper from the Ministry of Image's presses!

    “Sir, I've got what you requested.”

    A shadow falling across me as the female voice spoke led me to turn and find Ragini having bounded over upon our entrance.  Casting a glance to me, she handed a clipboard to Protégé.

    “How you doing, flightless?”

    The name felt like an old habit she simply spurted out without thinking of her own situation.  Struggling to not dare move my wings and indeed to keep my eyes from her own mangled appendages, I just coughed and shrugged.

    “All right, I suppose...”

    “Try not to bring any of your calamity into here. The workers just spent all last night clearing up after a feral ghoul somehow got into the stock room.” She almost grinned.  “Knowing your reputation for trouble I almost would prefer a horde of them to whatever events seem to follow in your wake.”

    “I...h-huh?” I had a reputation?

    “Don't tease him, Ragini.” I could almost see Protégé grinning as he read from the clipboard and waved us both over to a large office filled with slavers and workers around a low and wide table.

    Ragini simply grinned and winked at me before I followed them in, not knowing quite what else to do.  Why were griffons so weird? Yesterday she hated me, but today she was just joking with me. Was this some sort of coping mechanism, or did she perhaps see me as someone who could even vaguely understand what she was going through, despite what she'd said?  I kept an eye on her as I entered the bustling room, noticing the way she paced on her talons. Like she was ready to spring any time. Even without her wings, I knew she would be an agile and lethal combatant.

    Very quickly, I lost track of what was really going on with this meeting.  Protégé bent over the table, seeing the swathes of files laid out over it. Massive maps were pinned to the walls, showing all of Equestria.  I tried to flex my new knowledge from last night and read some of the locations but at most I got a couple of the earlier letters. Somewhere with an 'f' had lots of lines coming out of it, likely Fillydelphia, given it was probably the hub.

    Protégé, Ragini, and the slavers chatted repeatedly over timetables and supplies.  I heard them talk of tons of food, daily munitions productions, and caravan pricing.  It almost seemed more important than working in the Mall, but it was easy to see there was no true value here.  Protégé had been reduced to merely a supervisor of keeping things running than any real position of power. A thankless job.  Maybe that was why he wanted this nomination thing so badly...

    “Krrrzzztch...stupid thing on?”

    “Yeah, I-kzzztch...out right now.  Need to-kzzztch-as I can, dark room below.”

    I blinked a few times, looking down at my PipBuck.  I'd had it left on near silent to hear any news updates with my ears without disturbing anypony else, but other voices crackled through it.  Tapping the buttons a couple of times I tried adjusting to another station (Pinkie, really, you don't creep me out as much now but your music station still drives me to insanity) but the voices remained.  After a few seconds they clipped out. Probably just a wayward frequency, it wouldn't be the first time I'd heard such a thing.

    Something else caught my attention though.

    “What about the attrition rates?”

    “They've gone up, sir.  With the salvage teams resuming their work and the extra power needed from the materials in the crater, the personnel’s been burning fast.”

    That caught my ear.  Sitting up from the side of the room, I trotted to his side and found myself standing around a fierce debate of how to best allocate ponies as resources around Fillydelphia.  Protégé argued for safer tasks until they could build numbers again, whilst others pushed for greater exertion in light of 'coming threats from above.' Really, it was all over my head, but I glanced at the files below my nose with some interest.  I had to hold my stomach as I saw some photos among them. The corpse pits I'd once hid in, a brutalised team exiting a Stable bearing technical prizes, a new machine in a factory driven by wasted ponies...

    “Sacrifice must be made, but I will not send another fifty workers onto that deathtrap of a journey to Everfree until we can afford enough hired guns to get at least thirty five of them there, Mudball!” Protégé's voice cut in sharply, directed at a dull brown slaver across the table.  After a few moments of silence, I saw him nod and back down. Protégé had won this exchange.

    “Yes, sir.  I'll see if the Hoof Beater's are willing to take a cheaper contract...”

    “Good.  The rest of you, start lining up the supply train for the journey and organise the distribution of food.  We'll need to reduce rations until they can break into that processing plant's vault. The FunFarm workers have the most right now.  I hate to take it from them, but it's the best we can do.”

    “Sir.”

    They all backed off from the table and took their notes.  Gradually, they left one by one, leaving only a half dozen slaves in here carefully checking the lines between settlements on the maps along with the three of us.  Sitting down with a sigh, Protégé wiped his brow.

    “Every meeting is like a struggle for power now, they're all looking to get one over you every step of the way.”

    Ragini nodded curtly.  “I caught Mudball openly dissenting against you being assigned here when I arrived.  I think he believes he should have been made supervisor instead. I could get him in the locker room and remind him to-”

    “No, no Ragini...” Protégé actually chuckled.  “That won't be necessary. Now, we have work to do, Murk?  I want you to...Murk?”

    He had seen the look on my face.  I'd been waiting for my chance to speak, standing looking at him with a more than a little distaste.

    “Reducing rations to the FunFarm?” As much as I could, I tried to sound angry.  “I know how little they get and it barely kept us alive as it was. How can you reduce that?”

    I honestly felt disappointed in him.  I'd just listened to them debate how best to exploit us slaves for their industry's end.  It was Fillydelphia in a nutshell and everything I hated about it!  Ragini shot me a stern look but Protégé only turned to the table, tapping it.

    “Sometimes sacrifices need be made in Fillydelphia, Murk.  There simply isn't the supply to go around. It's-”

    “Horrible!” I moved up to the table, drawing the pictures across.  “How can this all be justified? How can you just pick and choose who gets what and always put your own things before the slaves?  I don't see slavers eating worse!  Why don't they get rations cut?  Why always us? I...I mean, look at all of this, it doesn’t make sense!”

    I expected a reprimand, I expected him to shut me down or Ragini to simply slap my mouth shut.  Other slaves around us turned to look, as did some slavers from outside. Seeing them looking, Protégé waved them to keep working and turned back, looking genuinely interested.

    “How does it not make sense?” Protégé motioned with a hoof for me to continue.  “Go on, say your piece.”

    Oh...oh I had been waiting to do this.  Taking a few breaths to let my tight throat open up and get some air, I stood and faced him.

    “Everything about how this is run!  It could be much better. I-I mean I know Fillydelphia isn't a nice place but...why not feed us better?  If we got better food and...and rewards and less abuse maybe we might work better too? Red Eye spends thousands of caps to buy slaves, he paid five times my market value to get me!  If...if they were healthy wouldn't that save him lots of money with them not dying all the time? Look at it!”

    I shoved the picture of the corpse pit toward him.

    “We're dying every day!  Fillydelphia's making me choke on my own blood every few hours without treatment, and there are others who won't last past tonight!  Why did you have to force us? If you offered security in here, better food, and maybe even used the money saved on paying us wouldn't some of us want to work here and build better things without just working us till we die?  I've...I've never seen it from this side, of slavers debating around a table over how best to do all this.  I never realised how stupid all of this really was!  How horrible and brutal and merciless!”

    “You feel there's a better way then, Murk?” Protégé’s voice was measured and calm. He hadn’t moved.

    “Yes!  How many slaves die every day?  This can't last long, there's only so many ponies in the wasteland and if we die so fast how can we really help?  Why doesn't Red Eye just...like...make everypony healthier and let us want to help make better things nicely? Why doesn't he get nice ponies to lead them instead of evil ones?  Why doesn't he put safety railings on anything?  It might be a bit slower but...but we'd not have to do all this...”

    To my great surprise, Ragini watched and listened almost respectfully.  Protégé did the same, before smiling to me and patting my shoulder.

    “You and I think the same, Murk.  We're idealists at heart. Unfortunately, reality doesn't work that way.  I need to check some things, but I'll explain as we go.”

    He began to lead me around the room.  Checking things on his clipboard and the walls he still spoke to me as I followed beside him.

    “The first issue that causes this is simply that of how the wasteland works, Murk.  Ponies are tough, weathered, and independent survivors by this point, save perhaps Tenpony Tower.  Loyalty matters little against simply making the next day, I think your time in here has made you think of it as some sort of paradise out there.  It's not.”

    He tapped the map, checking the lines of transit even as he pointed out vast areas of blank wilderness.

    “For ponies out there, it's a day to day struggle without anypony to bring them food.  They have to do it all for themselves by themselves for the most part. That breeds a kind of pony over a few generations, Murk.  They don't like working for somepony else.  They only think about themselves.  If we were to simply rely on volunteers, we would never get enough bodies to make a difference in Fillydelphia.  They simply would not come. Many places have tried that approach, and every time the wasteland decides it would rather take care of itself than give up anything.  Why would somepony come from Tenpony to here?”

    He indicated through a window over the stock yards outside where wagons were being filled.  Behind it I could see the vast red haze and brutal landscape of Fillydelphia.

    “If...if Fillydelphia was nicer and less smoggy, m-maybe they would-”

    “It's not, Murk.  Fillydelphia was like this long before Master Red Eye came here. Yet it is the only source of major industry left in Equestria now.  How would we get enough volunteers to work of their own choice for years on end in such a hell, Murk? We even tried it a few times; offering better care for those who decided to come.  Very few did.”

    “Then what about all the slavers?  They're the worst thing here!”

    Protégé hesitated a second, seeing the others around and guided me out of the office that we could trot alongside the warehouse floor, far from any prying ears.

    “Slavers are a unique breed.  Remember what I said about them needing an outlet of their own authority?  That's only one aspect. Slavers are not a nice group of ponies, Murk. But they have skills we need to control a workforce, and unfortunately, the idea of a 'nice' slaver is a very rare one in the wasteland.  There is no practical way to reform them all.  That's the crux of all this, Murk. It's simply not practical to make all this good and nice for everypony.”

    “But it's not practical to burn through us this fast either!  This can't last...”

    “It won't.  This is not intended to go forever.  Indeed, you are perhaps among the last generation of...workers, to be in here.  After Unity and after we have reached a certain level of infrastructure, the children of Master Red Eye will emerge from their learning to take over a pre-built city ready to accept their more advanced skills.  Then we can focus on something greater.  You see, Murk, this is all but an unfortunate means to a greater end.  The most any of us can do is try to be what we can from the inside. Masters like myself, Old Grizzly, and List Seeker...we just try to protect who we can, knowing that the reality is that this was always going to hurt somepony.”

    Rounding on him, I actually felt myself scowl.

    “Somepony?  Try hundreds. Thousands maybe!”

    There was a silence between us.  Ragini had followed on, staying silent away from our argument.  We passed by slaves pulling small carts full of oatmeal urns to the exit for distribution.  I'd seen that cart before. It was the FunFarm's, now only half full.

    “Why couldn't it just take longer?  Do it a small thing at a time rather than launching for the whole thing and needing it to be horrible along the way?  Spend longer finding nice ponies and working together to rebuild in peace over a much longer period? Why all the sacrifice to rush it?”

    Protégé took a long time in responding, clearly thinking deeply.  I saw him look at that clipboard, bearing the exact numbers upon it no doubt of precisely how horrible this city was.

    “Industry can't be created in small scale, Murk.  By the time we solved one issue, we would not be able to protect it as we moved on.  We need this large scale to invest, protect, and create a real nationwide infrastructure.  Equestria cannot linger in squalor forever, Murk. How many ponies die to the wasteland if we take our time? We could see a restored Equestria within our lifetime! Unity will be soon, and the opportunity will have been missed if we are not ready for it. Perhaps this is simply where perceptions of what sacrifice is worthwhile must agree to disagree.”

    He paused, looking up from the clipboard.

“Perhaps I was wrong.  Maybe I am something of a realist with loftier goals, rather than a true idealist like yourself.”

    He returned his eyes down, turning away from me.  It dawned that we really were looking at this from opposite sides despite his own experiences as a slave in Fillydelphia.  I was looking at it from an individual pony's viewpoint and morality wishing for things to be right, while he saw it from the view of statistics and large scale practicality while wishing for a better end goal.  Like master like pupil...

    “But, you've seen all this too.” I trotted a little closer.  “You know how much it hurts us. The very things you support still want to hurt you, look what happened to you!  Then you come back and just say it all again? How is that worth it?”

    I pointed my hoof to the window beside us.  Outside, framed in the dusty window, I had caught in the corner of my eye while speaking a slave by the side of the road being unhooked from a cart and falling to the floor.  Limp. Dead.

    Above him, a slaver tucked his whip away again before simply hoofing the body into the ditch by the side of the road.

    Protégé glared at it.  For a second I thought he would launch into a tirade, all the practicalities and all the realistic reasons that I knew made sense.  I just didn't like them. Instead, he took rather more time than I had ever known him to.

    “I...I don't like it.” He spoke quietly.  “It...just is. Sacrifices...must be made.  That's what he taught me. I will see a new Equestria.”

    That was that.  He trotted off away from me into the main warehouse area again.

    Ragini, having kept quiet, glared at me with an odd look.  A small smile creaked across her beak.

    “Not bad, flightless.”

    She moved off herself as well.  The idea was very strange, that she simply judged people by their confidence or ability to stick up for themselves.  Was that how griffons worked? Or just her? Why couldn't they just be like ponies and be easy to understand?

    I watched her disappear around the corner, leaving me alone in the supply area with an odd feeling of bittersweet 'victory' over the argument.  I'd never seen him look that unsure of himself before in all the time I'd known him.

    Then it hit me.  For all the curiosity about that strange pony, he had left me alone in the supply area.

    Left me alone in the supply area.

    Hehehe!

    I quickly cast my eyes around to the shelves, backing off out of sight from the rest.  I was right against the wall of the huge complex, at the last shelves before the windows and very nicely hidden from sight.  I didn't waste time and started scouring the shelves with my eyes, looking for anything that could be handy! Whipping my saddlebag open, I dropped in a set of matches for Coral's newly purchased lantern, a little monocular, several washers and nuts for Glimmer's modifications and even stretched right up to lift down two sets of glue.  I could only imagine how handy they might be for odd tasks. Grinning madly, I even found a tattered old revolver. Lacking a barrel or grip, it was pretty much just the drum in the middle that was still intact, no doubt ready to be sent back to the manufacturing bays. I helped myself to that too, Glimmer would find a use.

    Other things I mentally noted down to pick up later were the large swathes of cloth nearby that Coral and I could sew weather cloaks out of.  There were also some larger saddlebags and plates of metal taken out of body armour. I'd never get them hidden right now but I wasn't in any rush.  I would be here all day after all. My eyes fell upon a rather lovely looking row of spark batteries that glowed slightly, though. Maybe I could-

    “Murk!”

    I froze, dropping down and hastily attaching my saddlebag shut again as I heard the hoofsteps coming closer!  Protégé stuck his head around the shelf corner and motioned with a hoof.

    “Come on, I've got a job for you.”

    “Y-yes, master!” I hastily coughed into my hoof and trotted after him.  No worries, that was a good haul for now. This place was a gold mine! We had tools, food, drink, a container for my RadAway, a map on my PipBuck, some explosive lockpicks made from brass casings, a lantern and now a monocular, matches, and tons of scrap between it all!  Not to mention my very own battle saddle I was being allowed to keep for now. Oh yes, I could see this starting to come together!

    Protégé waited for me beside a small cart, holding a sheet of paper in his magic.

    “This will be a good chance for you to practice what you've learned, Murk.  These files need sorted alphabetically on the shelves. They’re near the back of the warehouse, under the gantry, all labelled.  It's just my logs of what I've been organising; a little monotonous, but just the sort of thing it's helpful to have you for.”

    “I'll, um, try...”

    I saw him raise an eyebrow and sighed.

    “...master.” I muttered it.  He nodded and moved away.

    Behind me I saw Mudball casting eyes at Protégé's back even as he left, being watched carefully by Ragini.  After a moment of matching eyes with the griffon, he looked back down and they left me to work.

    “This is 'Food' so that's, hmm...this one?”

    I muttered to myself, crouching beside the cart with my eyes tracking over the document in front of me.  I hadn't exactly made fast progress here other than the ones starting with 'M' after Protégé had taught me to spell my own name.  Only now I was trapped between these little squiggly lines, one with a small line through it and the other without. Annoyingly, while this file was clearly about food, (it held a picture of a tantalising-looking pie) I couldn't remember what that looked like in word form.

    Urgh.  Protégé's records method wasn't exactly easy for the borderline illiterate.

    Unfortunately, there wasn't much worth taking from where I was, and I wasn't exactly sure how wary the overseers were in here.  Following on from my gatherings before, I didn't want to push my luck. Besides, I did want to learn to read.

    Pulling a few folders out from the shelf, I skimmed them for anything similar to help me figure it out.  I knew that 'f' had a squiggly line but did it have the extra little line or was it the snake?  Everything felt so confusing. Protégé had told me to watch for letters called something specific; towels, if I remembered, but so far that wasn't helping.  Especially when towels also meant the rugs you dried yourself with. Who designed words that way?

    Eventually, I located another file about food.  So it did have the little line! 'F' was a little line through a squiggle.  Ok! I began shifting through all the ones on the cart looking for any other ones about food and threw each of them in at the end of the 'F' section.  As it turned out, that was the vast majority. I umm'ed and aah'ed my way through most of the pile, likely knowing I got something wrong now and again. (Why was it 'double you' when the letter was clearly two 'V' letters?) But eventually I whittled it down and felt rather proud of myself as I did so.

    The last one utterly stumped me though.

    It outright told me what I was to look for. It held a straight line then a circle beside it at the top.  I didn't remember that in the alphabet.  I even tried to cheat and compare it to others on the shelf, but found none at all that matched.

    Sighing, I eventually trotted over to the nearest slave.

    “Um, excuse me...miss?” I shrunk back slightly as the scrawny mare looked down at me without much care.  “Where does this go?”

    Her magic lifted it, casting her eyes for a few seconds across the top.

    “Ah, this?  Exception form, goes in the little room under the gantry down there.  See? Number ten at the top, if it's a number it's in there.”

    “Oh!” What a cheat.  A number. “Th-thank you, miss!”

    “Eh, whatever.” She simply shrugged, returning to the heavy crates she was trying to pry open.  I didn't expect much from her, if you got a safe job in slavery, you tended to just try and not attract any attention to try and keep it.

    Meanwhile, feeling happier than I really should at having recognised a few letters for the first time in my life alone, I began to trot toward the indicated room with the form tucked under one wing.  I was learning to read, we were getting stuff together to escape, I wasn't with Shackles, and I could move my wings! All things considered, life was pretty good by my standards.

    The room's door creaked open, ahead of me, the room was almost entirely in darkness.  I could see the vague shape of shelves and the numbers listed on little stamped bits of paper along with some old filing cabinets and desks on the dusty floor, but the lights had long ceased to work.  I could see the number I was after, the line and circle right at the bottom of the room if I squinted, the light from out here casting inside.

    Slowly, I trotted in.  Hard concrete tapped under my hooves and without really knowing why, I softened my trotting to not make any noise.  The further I walked in, the more the warehouse behind me dulled in sound. Past the first three shelves, then the fifth...

    Then the door slammed shut and cast the room into utter darkness.

    Squeaking as I blinked and let my natural sight adjust to the change, I made to gallop before stopping.  No...no, the door had just been on springs, it was okay...it was okay...

    All the same, I couldn't help but feel a rising tension in the air.  A sense of something watching me as I went further in. I felt myself speed up, moving to a canter and pacing quickly with little whimpers.  I didn't want to look behind me. The darkness seemed to gather in corners, shadows within the black itself. My neck tingled with sweat and I felt my breathing get quicker.

    “Kzzztch-there?”

    “Shut up you-kzzztch...”

    I knew this feeling. I'd felt it in nightmares, and I'd felt it in the Stable.  Like being chased by a ghost. Now as I heard that same frequency go off, I realised it sounded like somepony on a radio.  Wait, hadn't it mentioned a dark room?

    Was...was something behind me?

    No, not waiting.  Move. Move now.  I didn't like this, somepony felt like they were right behind me no matter where I turned!

    Before I knew it, I was almost galloping toward the last shelf and threw the folder into it hastily.  Cringing, whining and hopping from hoof to hoof nervously to turn around, I fled immediately for the door, not daring to imagine what that presence was I felt in the darkness.  It felt like something was right behind my tail.

    Without hesitation, I flung the door open and dove outside, slammed it shut and spun to run further away from the dark room.  I stopped on the spot as I collided with something.

    Oh, wait...somepony.

    I heard him grunt more in shock than pain.  It wasn't like my little body was going to hurt anypony.  Staggering away from each other, I felt like throwing my hoof in my mouth when I saw who it was.

    “Murk...” Protégé rubbed his side with a hoof.  “I can't exactly say you're not making a habit of literally running into me when I'm looking for you.”

    “S-sorry!  I...the dark in there...just...um...” I caught my breath.  “Sorry, master.”

    No need to sound foalish by talking about being scared of the dark.  Even so, I figured he got the message and nodded.

    “Well, your familiarity with the dark and sneaking around is what I need you for now, Murk.”

    “H-huh?”

    Protégé's eyes narrowed.

    “The Great Game continues.  We've had a break in.”

    He took me up the gantry to a suspended level above the warehouse floor.  A series of thin-walled offices atop the catwalk were occupied by banks of terminals or specialist sorting rooms attended to by slaves and slavers alike.  Trotting to the furthest office away, Protégé unlocked the door to wander inside. I followed him, glancing around at the recently moved-in office.

    “What do you mean a break in?”

    “Someone infiltrated my office, Murk.” Protégé shut the door behind me with a flash of his horn.  “While I was out, somepony has stolen their way in here.”

    “What did they take?” Looking around it all seemed very sturdy and bare with smoothed plaster on the walls that had clearly once born a different colour, and held glossy wooden boards on its corners and bottom rim. He had brought the items I had lifted here up with him and dumped them by his desk and the remainder held a smattering of reading materials and organisation documents.  On a rack at the back were a few changes of clothes with a low bed next to the window. It was a definite downgrade from the padded office in the Mall.

    “Nothing.”

    “Then...how do you know someone broke in?”

    Waving me forward, he lightly opened a drawer.

    “Simple tricks, Murk.  Anyone seeking ways to ensure things in here keeps careful watch on who is doing what.  A simple thin thread stuck to the drawer where I keep more valuable information. One that would be snapped by anyone looking through it without even realising.  I keep this drawer locked, the door secured and the only other way in is a window with a thirty foot drop, also locked. There's an attic above us, but it doesn't lead anywhere.”

    “Maybe it just got broken?  If nothings been taken...”

    “More than that.  Specific organisation of how I leave my things.  Scattered and untidy or not, I know where I leave them.  I take measures to ensure I remember where each thing in my desk drawers is in relation to each other.  It's been moved.”

    I couldn't much help but store these ideas away to watch out for in future from the perspective of somepony who often did the sneaking.

    “So what were they after?”

    “Information, Murk.  Likely trying to find out what I knew, what my schedule was or anything else.  Detail is key these days, Murk. They likely sought simply to dig up dirt or simply test the waters of whether I would notice.”

    I wandered about the room, looking at each part of the sparse furniture and out of the window.  How would I have gotten in here? I couldn't lockpick, so the best place for me would be to try and grapple my way to the roof.

    “Is the attic's roof, um, solid?”

    “The section above this room, yes.  The interesting thing is, I keep another length of thin string by the door.  It was unbroken.”

    I stood and stared at the attic door up a small flight of stairs at the back of the office.  There wasn't anything to say they couldn't lockpick themselves, and if they'd gotten into the drawer they must have, but they clearly hadn't entered through the door.  I saw Protégé sit down, tenderly rubbing his bandaged neck with a slight grimace.

    “Are...are you all right?” It occurred to me I'd never once asked that yet.

    “Yes, Murk.  Thank you. Nothing worse than what I imagine you are feeling.  It has not been an easy time for us and there will still be many dangers ahead for either you or me I would wager.”

    “I'm sorry you lost what you wanted...”

    I didn't really hear his response, nothing other than general politeness that I let slip from actually listening to, for I heard my PipBuck pick up again.

    “Kzzztch-right up there, you all right?”

    “Yes, it's fine.  Sooner I can leave from up here the -kzzztch...”

    It faded off into static with unintelligible noises.

    I could hear Protégé asking what I was looking at, but I didn't answer.  I simply held up a hoof for him to be quiet and slowly trotted forward. Somepony's radio hitting my PipBuck's receiver from before...

    They'd mentioned a dark room, then told somepony to shut up while I'd been in a dark room, then asking if they were fine 'up there.'

    I felt a very cold chill run over me as I leaned close to Protégé's ear.

    “Did you check the attic?”

    “Not yet.  I haven't been up there in some time.”

    “Then I know how they got out...they didn't.”

    I held the PipBuck up, close enough that he could hear.  Occasional lines asking if they had 'gotten anything' or 'when they could leave.' They weren't stealing into the room...they were always here, checking it and feeding information through a radio every time he left!

    Very carefully, I saw Protégé lift his revolver from the pile beside his desk and get off his seat.  He spoke quietly, soft enough to let me hear.

    “E.F.S can't see them, but there are ways to block it.  The stairs creak, they'll hear us coming. This needs to be quick.”

    “Kzzztch-just lemme know when they go and I'll tail em.”

    “Hold your hooves, Dirk.  Least you get to stretch your legs.”

    I knew that name.  It was one of Barb's shades!  They must have been trying to help Shackles to feed him information on what Protégé was up to!  My mind briefly wondered why they didn't just go for the kill even as Protégé placed a hoof on the steps and readied his telekinesis around the latch of the attic door.

    I saw him nod to me.  Shaking, I nodded back.  At least he was with me for this.

    A couple of breaths...and then he pulled the door open and galloped up.  I followed, unwilling to let him face those dark terrors alone again. Ahead of me, he burst into the room!

    I heard somepony from above shout, a scrambling of hooves and Protégé shouting for them to 'put it down.' My ears split right as I ran in from a loud gunshot in such close proximity and fell to the side when the stairwell splintered and blasted wood into my face.  He was shooting at us!

    Protégé's revolver fired back, I couldn't see what was going on, cramped in the little stairwell before actually entering.  Wood cracked and the sound of galloping hooves gave way to two more shots from Protégé's revolver, snapping and echoing around the room.  Dragging myself up, I pulled myself into the attic, saddle mouthpiece drawn for...some reason. The attic was large and surprisingly well lit around the wooden beams.  Protégé was galloping forward to dive behind an old water tank.

    “Murk, get down!”

    He shouted it even as another round of buckshot blasted the beam beside me into tinder.  Squealing, I fell to the side between two beams and onto the soft roof padding that I half buried myself in from the exchange of gunfire above me.  I could hear screams from the warehouse below at the sounds. Daring to poke my head up, I finally saw our assailant at the far end. A shadowy figure visible only from the glint of a sawn off shotgun magically floating as it reloaded.  Behind them, a newly cut trapdoor opened to the roof, designed to look exactly like a part of the roof itself.  No wonder Protégé had assumed they hadn’t got in there from here!

    Keeping my head low beneath the beams of wood that traversed the attic at this side I heard their shotgun blast into the water tank Protégé hid behind. Dropping back, away from the buckshot, Protégé blind fired around the corner before reloading his own revolver from a pocket full of rounds.

    “You think I can't hear that? Eat this!” The Shade pointed the shotgun and pulled the trigger.  Protégé huddled behind cover as best he could, keeping his limbs hidden.

    The raider’s weapon simply clicked.

    “Ah shit.” Daring to glance up, I saw the shotgun floating up to his eye after the jam before the Shade clambered out of the trapdoor.

    “He's running!” I cried out to Protégé, who simply holstered his weapon and got up to make chase.  Following him, we both ran onto the more solid wooden floor where the Shade had been residing. I saw a strange piece of arcane technology humming away on the floor.  Protégé looked at it with surprise.

    “Grab that, Murk!”

    Throwing it in my saddlebag, Protégé and I ran to the trap door and glanced out.  In the red light of Fillydelphia even a Shade could be seen galloping across the walkways of the warehouse roof.  We both clambered out, dropping six feet to the metal catwalks and tore off after them. Protégé took an easy lead with his longer legs, weaving around the air ducts upon the roof to close the distance.

    The Shade moved like water over anything barring the way!  I saw him glide over railings and slide between thin gaps in a cage fence around a generator without so much as slowing down.  Protégé vaulted the same railing and shot out the lock of the fence door to run through, with me following as close as I could after simply running under the first rail.

    “Come on!”

    He could shout, but I'd never be able to keep up here!  Ducking and diving I kept my little hooves moving to keep sight on the Shade that fled across a mass of pipes, aiming to turn right toward a fire escape!  Protégé put his head down and sprinted, smartly taking the direct route rather than the one the Shade had taken. Even when the Shade got near the fire escape, Protégé's shots slammed on its top level railings, making him leap back.

    “Just get to fuck, you little weasel!” Growling, having had to jump back into cover, the Shade didn't have a choice but to abandon it now that we were close enough to catch him if he tried to go down the steep stairs.  Even a Shade couldn’t trot down them quickly!

    My legs were aching under me though, I wouldn't be in this chase much longer.  I could see Protégé was flagging too, his neck no doubt severely hampering him.  I had to get smart...think, Murky, think!

    The Shade ducked behind a massive air conditioning unit, disappearing from sight.  I knew what I had to do.

    Stopping, I ran backwards and spun around in the same direction, taking a route around the same unit to catch him if he doubled back.  It's what I would have done! Dropping to my side and sliding on my momentum below the pipe, I whipped my saddle's mouthpiece back out and pointed it up the adjoining route through this maze atop the roof.

    Sure enough, the Shade was running right toward me.  Taking only brief aim, I bit hard on the mouthpiece and shot the hook right at him even while still sliding from my dive.

    “Whoa, where did yo-!” Ducking to the side, the Shade simply threw himself at the ground, not having enough time to realise it was only a grapple and not a proper gun before choosing to dodge.  Slamming into the other side of the thin gap between the air unit and pipes I at least made him pause and let Protégé loop around further ahead to come up behind the raider. We had him trapped!

    “Don't move  I said don't! Who was it that sent you? Shackles? Grindstone?”

    The Shade, half blurring at the edges into the shades below each part of the roof, spun from me to face Protégé and snarled.

    “Shades don't squeal, mister teacher's pet!  Especially not to bastards who killed Barb! Didn't even need payment to take up work to fuck up your life when we got the offer!”

    “You lot are assassins, why didn't you just kill me when I slept in that room?  What information were you after?”

    The Shade grinned.  “Wouldn't you like to know?  Goodbye...”

    Neither of us had seen it but that blurriness had hid his horn casting a spell!  Only when I saw the growing darkness did I realise it before he melted away through a space so thin even I couldn't squeeze through!  A blink spell! Racing up, I saw him reform on the other side, grin at me through the gap and run off.

    “Murk!  Boost up!”

    Before I even realised how silly an idea this was, I put my back to the gap and held my hooves together to boost Protégé atop the gap we couldn't fit through.  Feeling my front legs burn with the effort of lifting even a lighter pony like Protégé I gasped and staggered when I felt him reach the top. Catching a breath, I used my grapple to get over myself.  

From atop the unit I saw the Shade sprinting for the edge of the building, pursued by Protégé.  Hopping from unit to unit, I knew I would never catch up to this chase again so I simply tried to keep an eye on what was going on.

    “See you later, upstart!”

    The Shade shouted over his shoulder before leaping off the building's edge!  I actually stopped and saw him hang in the air from the abnormally long jump as he stretched out...and landing on the building just over from here.

    Behind him, Protégé clenched his teeth and increased his speed.  I saw his horn glow, spreading around himself as he charged up and leapt!  He was trying to lighten himself! I ran forward, aiming to grapple over.

    He made it.

    Barely.

    Slamming into the side of the building, I heard him cry out in pain from his injuries at the impact.  His hooves just grasped the ledge, leaving his hind section kicking in thin air below. Feeling horror in my gut, I sprinted up and fired my grapple to the other building, putting away my fear of falling to zip right across.  Landing heavily from such a shallow swing, I scrambled across the pebbled roof and thrust my hooves out to grab Protégé, hauling him onto the roof.

    We simply lay there for a few seconds.  Exhausted and sore. The Shade kept sprinting even after our stamina had gone.  Barb's disciples that still lurked Fillydelphia were very athletic raiders, and we were just a pair of small ponies recently out of hospital with still bandaged injuries.  We'd never catch up now.

    “Thank...phew...thank you, Murk.  It seems I made the right choice in having you around...”

    I didn't even reply.  The long sprint was catching up to me and I just lay on my side, hooves limp as I struggled to get air.  My throat was feeling sore and tight, leading me to rasp each time. With hooves that felt like lead, I took a long gulp from my Radaway canteen and coughed down the horrible mixture.  The rampant thumping in my chest gradually died down, the taint growth slowing for now.

    “He...” I stammered, having to swallow back the metallic tang left over in my mouth.  “He got away...”

    “Yes, yes he did.” Protégé struggled to his hooves and stretched back and forth, checking his bandages.  “That's a new move afoot, that my enemies amongst the slavers have recruited Barb's survivors out of their hatred for me.  We shall have to tread softly and keep a wary ear out. Good thing I have you for that, hmm?”

    He tried to offer a smile, likely happy to simply be alive after that jump.

    “Um...yes?”

    “Just from now on, I think I'll leave the telekinesis tricks to the Dweller.  I'd heard she was good with them. Who said only you were inspired to ideas from her?  Problem is, I don't seem to be very good at them.”

    Patting my back, he helped me up as we both tiredly limped to the nearest fire escape.  His magic lifted the odd object from my saddlebag. Part of me felt a little odd, he could have asked first...damn slavers...

    “This isn't common, it's an E.F.S blocker.  I wasn't aware we even had any in Fillydelphia that still functioned.  Somepony is supplying them with advanced equipment to indirectly aid their interests.”

    “Shackles and Grindstone?”

    “Well, that in itself is obvious.  They've as much as told us before, but this makes me worry where they are getting this stuff.  Now, we've got to go to the Alpha-Omega, Old Grizzly wants to see me with a drop of information somewhere where there will be less curious ears.”

    He smirked as we got onto the fire escape.

    “Besides, I hear there's a couple of little fillies who are eager to see you.”

    “I just don't understand.”

    “Understand what?”

    Protégé glanced down to me as I asked my question.  We were trotting back the way we had come, around the FunBarn to the Alpha-Omega Hotel.  Briefly, Protégé had met with a furious Ragini. She had tried to find us, but our chase had been on such an unknown direction upon the rooftop that she hadn't been able to locate her charge in time.

    Couple that with losing a chance to take a shot at the Shades, and the griffon had not been pleased.  She had been left to guard his office, in case anypony returned with a sneaky subversion. I'd heard her swearing and punching a wall even as we'd left, keeping her rage out of sight of her charge.

    “I just don't understand why we can't go to Red Eye right now and tell him about all this.  That they were happy to try and kill you when you found us yesterday. That they're stealing and that they betrayed you in the Mall!”

    Protégé glanced toward the upper floors of the FunBarn.  Likely where Red Eye was right now.

    “My Master is exceptionally busy, Murk.  Unity is near, and he has greater things than my life to worry himself about at this very moment.  Even I cannot simply request an audience or walk in.”

    “You didn't see him after you almost died?  Didn't he come to visit you?”

    There was that pause again, before he simply smiled.

    “He didn't have to, I hear he looked in on me before I woke up, but after that I reported to him from my bed.  I will see him soon enough however, once Unity's preparations are finished in Fillydelphia. Rest assured, I will have a full report for him.”

    He seemed to grin a little to himself.  Whether over imagining the satisfaction of Red Eye's sweeping authority dealing with this or that love of precise writing and reports I knew he had, I wasn't sure.  Briefly, I pitied Red Eye having to read whatever extensive thing he'd wrote. (Knowing Protégé, it likely had graphs.)

    “As you might have seen based on what you told me of bringing Lilac here, an act I cannot thank you for enough, security has had something of an upgrade in this place since Littlepip essentially trotted right in.”

    Ahead of us, the Alpha-Omega Hotel's gates were secured with great measure.  The fence ahead of the lit building thrummed with magic power and two small towers held griffon snipers watching our every move.  Protégé was permitted entry without a word though. They allowed him (and apparently, his 'assistant') in on sight. I took the fanatical glance from Red Eye's guard very seriously.  He bore the mark of the fanatical elite core of Red Eye's army upon his combat armour's breast after all.

    No.  No trouble or hijinks here.  In other places, if caught, I'd be punished.  Here I'd be executed on the spot without a warning.

    What awaited me just as we went inside was beyond what I could have imagined, however.

    Fresh new carpets lined the main hallway of the hotel.  That classic design of Fillydelphia to have a grand staircase just beyond the front doors and reception was lit and of a temperature that felt like a refreshing comfort after the stuffy outside.  They had working air conditioning! With the doors closed and blocking the sound I could have imagined I was simply back in Old Equestria all over again.

    “This is the seat of Equestria's future, Murk.  We have done all we could to ensure a safe and happy place for them to grow, learn and dream.  This main hall is mostly just for guards and exchanges, but above us in the old rooms they have their dorms while the grand ballroom has been converted to a place of learning.”

    We trotted in, me feeling distinctly out of place with my filthy fleece and matted coat.  On a guard's insistence, I even had to scrape my hooves on a little mat before I was allowed to wander further into the hotel itself and view the long hallways of thick red and burnished gold fittings.  I could hear them, children playing, laughing, and scampering around on little hooves in adjoining rooms and floors.

    I couldn't help but make contrast to the empty orphanage I'd so recently seen.

    After we dropped in our equipment and weapons (My battle saddle was a weapon.  In my mind) to the reception, we were finally allowed to continue in. Protégé led me upstairs, making assurances to the robed staff that I was with him and having to hide his smirk as I hopped on each of the thickly carpeted stairs.  What? It was designed for a time when ponies were bigger than me! No wonder the foals didn't come down here much.

    Quite simply, I couldn't quite get over the sort of place I was seeing.  It was clean! Those cabinets on the landing between stairs were actually polished and held growing flowers!  The bannisters were all intact with recut wood! At the top of the stairs, the large square room bore clear tables, huge doors with intricate stained glass and beyond that a dining room where cooks hurriedly set out a meal upon the serving tables.  Clearly, their lunch was soon.

    Even from here, I could smell the warm cooking.  Tasting the sweet scent of sugar and thick fumes of gravy or soup wafting from between the doorways...oh please, say we can have lunch here, Protégé?  My stomach was actually growling at me with the need and temptation.

    “Not even I or Master Red Eye are permitted to this food, Murk.  He would not dare feast on this while workers do not. Sacrifice must come from all.”

    Clearly he'd seen me poking my nose against the glass and slightly steaming it up.  Blinking, I blushed and stepped back from it.

    “S-sorry...warm food and...um...”

    “I know, Murk.  I know. We'll get something soon enough.  But please, come here. While we wait for Old Grizzly I think you might like to see how the foals are living?  It might offer you a better perspective on this entire endeavour.”

    “Um, please.  Yes.” I nodded, feeling my hooves unwilling to leave behind the dining room.  The chef was serving mashed potatoes out to the tables!  I'd only ever dreamed of them!  Yet I forced myself to move along and follow Protégé as he trotted down the adjoining hall.  It was rather wide, definitely not just a corridor and arced around a massive curved wing of the hotel.  Then as we trotted, I began to see the truth of this place.

    Behind clear glass doors, I saw the foals.  They were sitting inside the grand hall, dozens of them!  Upon cushions resting over an old dance floor they sat and stared as an elderly stallion taught them something on a blackboard.  They scribbled in little jotters, some bored and some avidly taking it up. Behind them I could hear another little group singing songs while a third was constructing little wooden models on basic workbenches.  Across the grand hall where ponies must have once danced, Red Eye had created a full school.

    Glancing in, I felt a little spike of envy at seeing them all having fun together as they learned the skills of life.  All those foals, sometimes less than half my age, were likely more intelligent than I'd ever be.

    Protégé rounded off and saw me staring through the window.  One little foal turned and saw me there, waving with a smile.  They were so idealistic and willing. Waving back, I felt Protégé's hoof on my shoulder, beckoning me onward to not disturb them in class.

    “Don't worry, Murk.  We'll get you up to speed.  I promise.”

    The smile was genuine, I couldn't help but sniff and nod back with a little grin.  Of all things, I was thankful that he was willing to help me with this, be it ten years too late or not.

    Passing around the hallway that encircled the large ballroom, Protégé led me through to a series of common rooms and even a library that had been redesigned out of a music room.  I could still see the piano there. Still hear the piano as a little colt tentatively plucked out a few chords upon it.  The noise of children flooded into my ears as I discovered this was their place to play and do as they willed.

    “Foals need time to discover their own likes, Murk.  We don't drill them.”

    “Protégé!”

    The squeaking shout went out and before I knew it a small crowd of them had followed the shout and surged across the ground to us.  Allegedly, he was rather popular with the foals.

    “Are you here to tell us another story?”

    “I really want to hear the one with Daring Do again!”

    Rather swamped along with all these foals, I stepped back a little, grinning at him.  The thought of Protégé sitting and reading a book to them was, frankly, hilarious to me.  That serious buck having to tell a tale would be something all right.  He shook his head and talked to them, speaking to them all by name and asking how they were doing.  I took a step to the side and looked around the room, not daring to leave it for fear of being considered an intruder without Protégé.  I could see other rooms attached that led back to the school or on to the dining room while others clearly were large lines of dorms that foals came and went from.

    They were healthy.  Happy. Bright and with a delighted glint in their eye I'd never known from anypony other than a drunken Glimmer!

    “...Murky?  Is that you?”

    Stopping on the spot, I heard the little rasping female tone and turned with all the hope in my heart.

    Both Starshine Melody and Lilac Rose were stood right there.  Clad in body covering robes other than their faces, the two little ghouls widened their eyes to see it was me.  A sweet little smell came off them, emerging from necklaces that swung around their necks to disguise the stench that being a ghoul brought.

    “Starshine!  Lilac!”

    Trying my best to smile widely for them, I knelt down before them.  The pair offered small smiles, and shuffled forward, both hugging me at the same time.  Really I hadn't thought about how they saw me, but I'd been the one to save both of them.

    “Are you two doing okay?”

    “Mhm.” Starshine murmured a little quietly when she stepped back.  “They gave me medicine to help the pain go away...”

    The poor thing, she must have been coping with the reality of being a ghoul now, her experience had been far more traumatic than Lilac's. I didn't understand how becoming one worked, but in such a short and horrible way the idea of there being pain involved seemed all too likely.

    “We help each other.” Lilac stood rather adamantly beside Starshine.  “We're best friends now. Star got them to let me play and not be scared of me.”

    “Good girl.” I tried to remember how Coral spoke and emulate it as best I could.

    “Are you here because it's time to go find Miss Coral again?” Lilac seemed hopeful.  “Because...um...Star wanted to know if she could come too...”

    I could feel things getting ever more complicated again, not to mention a bit of a horrible decision of what to say here.  Yes, I'd be more than fine to help her get out, but I knew I was speaking for Coral here.

    “Well...you can both certainly come with us, is that...fine?”

    “Yes!” Both spoke at the same time, Lilac turning and nodding to Starshine as though saying 'Told you it'd be fine!'

    “But it's not right now.  I'm just...um...on a really secret mission to get in and speak to you right now!”

    Oh, my imagination.  Here we went...I could see their eyes light up and hustle close to hear secrets.  I could see Protégé still talking to many of the other foals and hearing what they had been learning.

    “Listen close, we've got a plan coming together but I need to know how to get you two out of here along with Coral's son, Chirpy Sum.”

    “He's not here right now!” Lilac piped up.

    “Yes, um...” Starshine was clearly the less confident of the two.  “They said he got to go to 'advanced studies' somewhere else with one of the leaders cos' he's so smart with maths.  I can't even do all my times tables but he can do really really complex stuff like square roots and...and triangle things.”

    Well now, depending on circumstances, that might make things easier to get him back, I'd have to pass that information on and try to find out where. Maybe Protégé knew.

    “Good work girls.” I patted each of their heads, remembering how I had seen my friend do it.  “But Star, how did you get out last time? Could you do that again?”

    “Uh huh. They never found my hole.  It's near the drain pipe outside at the fence.  I used to sneak down the old servant's staircase to get out to look around from it.”

    “I used that too at the orphanage!” Lilac beamed at her new friend and the pair laughed together.  I joined in lightly, feeling impolite not to. It really was wonderful to see Lilac having found a place she could be with other foals.

    “Right, I'm sure I could find it.  Check the drainpipe every so often, Star.  I'll...um...I'll leave a note there once we know what's going on.  Okay?”

    “Okay, Mister Murky!” Starshine lit up.  “Lilac's told me about Miss Coral, and I told her about the really really big pony that carried you off when you got sick!  You all sound nice and...and I kinda miss my own mummy and daddy since I came here.  They're nice but...I want to go home...”

    Straining harder than I ever had to stop my traitorous eyes from dampening, I embraced her lightly.

    “We'll all make it.  I...I promise.”

    “R-really?”

    “Yeah...”

    I felt like I'd made a mistake saying that.  Promises set false hope. But she was just a foal, what else could I say?  If there was one thing I knew I cared about helping, it was children. It always had been a thing to me, now that I could see my own life for what it was, helping them escape even these bright and shining chains that sought to turn them into Red Eye's personal little population seemed important.  I felt sure Coral wouldn't mind.

    “Murk.” Protégé's voice picked up from behind me.

    Blinking fast, I smiled a goodbye to the girls and stood up.  “Y-yes?”

    “Old Grizzly's here, we have to go.”

    “Well, Murk.  I'm glad to see you have survived your ordeal.”

    Old Grizzly broke that stern face of his for at least a small smile when we entered the small room.  It was rather out of the way, quiet and hidden.

    “Th-thank you...sir.” Better to be cautious.

    “Now do me a favour, kid.  Keep those ears out for anypony for us, will you?  This has to remain quiet.”

    “Y-yes, sir.”

    The thickset earth pony sat upon the bed, casting a dubious glance as to whether the wooden chairs would support his weight.  Raising one hairy hoof he shook off a thick brown weather cloak that almost seemed to match the colour of his coat and mane precisely, were it not for the grey hairs forming.

    Protégé sat upon a chair.  After a moment of wondering, I eased onto one as well until I was sure they weren't going to order me to the floor.

    “Sir, you said you had something for me?” Protégé leaned on the table, his eyepiece sat beside him.

    “Yes, Protégé.  I apologise I could not come to see you directly but there are eyes and ears everywhere now.”

    “I know.  Murk and I chased one of them off just this morning.  Ragini has her hands full just keeping the warehouse from going off schedule.  It was a Shade, Grizzly. One of Barb's students that slipped away from the Mall riot.  They've thrown in their lot with somepony to work against me.”

    Old Grizzly grunted and lay back with his head on the wall.

    “That bastard keeps it up even from the grave.  Most raiders don't have that sort of loyalty. Strange that one known for backstabbing carried such an inner core.”

    “It's...um...” I spoke up, then realised I'd done so possibly out of turn until I saw Protégé smile and gesture for me to continue.  “It's how Brimstone's clan worked. He told me they were loyal to each other and that's what helped them do better than most raider gangs.  That's why they hate him...because he turned traitor and left. They were the ones that threw me in the Pit with Wildcard because I killed Barb.”

    “Makes sense, then.” Grizzly nodded.  “You working with Protégé here, with Brimstone helping both of you out at times and already not liking you to begin with my boy.  Must have one hell of a hate boner on for you all.”

    I saw Protégé squint at the use of language.  Clearly he hadn't inherited one of his teacher's traits over Red Eye's.

    “I think it's safe to assume they are working with Shackles and Grindstone.”

    “They are, sir.  Murk here reported that he saw Wildcard in league with them at a hidden meeting.  I've heard Wildcard's been around the Mall sometimes, too. It seems they have-”

    “Made an alliance, yes.” Grizzly cut in before sighing.  “That's what I'm here to tell you. The nominations for who becomes Stern's successor in the chain of command, it's not looking good.  There's a lot of back room intrigue, as there always is, but I've been tasked with keeping track of preliminary nominations.”

    A lot of this was feeling beyond my station, but I couldn't help but notice a sudden change in atmosphere.  Grizzly spoke with wary eyes while Protégé narrowed his darkly.

    “Sir...you are not meant to tell anypony that, for fear of bias or blackmail and-”

    “I know, boy, I know.  That's why I needed you here.  I've seen where a lot of the votes are going and it's not looking good.  I'm risking all to break the rules and give you this information because in this 'great game' as they're calling it now...I don't want to see Shackles win out.  Right now, he is.”

    Oh...

    Grizzly continued, his voice low.  “Naturally, most slavers vote for themselves.  Shackles has done so, but Grindstone and many of the others have done so for him as well.  Slit put in one for him so we can only assume he paid her a visit too. He has sway, Protégé.  They're crafting a majority here.  He's a nomination for sure and there's nopony else with enough votes to act as a competitor.”

    Blinking, I tried to keep up with all this.

    “So...so if he's got a majority...doesn't that mean he wins?”

    My voice felt weak beside Grizzly's deep bass and Protégé's strong tone, but it was both of them looking at me that made me realise just how stupid it was to speak.  Both of them knew how this worked, I didn't really factor in. All the same, Protégé nodded to Grizzly and turned back to me.

    “This isn't a vote to see who wins, Murk.  This is simply a case of finding out which leaders are considered highly enough to be put in for a future vote on who becomes the actual successor.  In essence, this nomination process is about finding out who the future nominees would be. But if there's only one significant majority vote at the hosting today, they win by default.”

    “Precisely.” Grizzly stomped his two front hooves together.  “If they found out I'm telling you this my head would be on a pike within the hour.  Desperate times, Protégé. You know I've always opposed his style of rule, it's why I'm going to transfer my vote to you.”

    “To me?” Protégé seemed genuinely shocked.  “But...but sir, you are the senior, I should be the one putting my nomination to you!  You have far more respect among the leaders and-”

    “Protégé, no.” He cut him off.  “I have much respect but I have hid away in the FunBarn for years now other than a small group nearby in the bumper plough pit.  I'm not exactly going to be around for long anyway...there's a reason they call me old. It's sodding true.  But there's a bigger reason...”

    He took a breath, leaning closer.

    “Protégé, Red Eye has cast his vote for you.”

    I didn't think I'd ever manage to see Protégé look so genuinely open mouthed and speechless ever again with that poised figure broken into a stunned student.

    “He...”

    “Yes, he did.  That changes things.  As we know, Stern will follow Red Eye's lead no matter what he does, which has led to her putting in for you as well.  With my own and your vote that already puts you in the running to have a chance at being a worthy challenger to Shackles' influence.  You have the rest of today, Protégé. Find those that you can count on to cast a vote to you.  I recommend you start with List Seeker, his nomination has yet to come through but I heard he had been visited by Shackles' aid Wormtail this morning.”

    Protégé was clearly still trying to compose himself internally a little.  If the discussion weren't so deadly serious I might have found it a little funny.  Like if I'd been told the DJ had given me a named shout out on the radio or something.

    “Yes...” He eventually spoke quietly, coughed and sat up straight.  “Yes, I'll do that...”

    “It's all backroom politics and intrigue now, Protégé.  Be careful out there, they clearly know you stand a chance and I'm not going to make the assumption that they haven't stolen their way into my office to read who's winning too.  They know you stand a chance, I'll bet.  So you-”

    “Ssh!”

    I held up a hoof and Grizzly stopped talking immediately.  I'd heard something. Hooves trotting lightly, as though they were sneaking.  We sat in silence as I sneaked over to the door and held my ear against it. Behind me, I could see Protégé unclasping his revolver holster lock.

    The hooves stopped.

    I could feel sweat running down my forehead.  If this was a Shade...or Wildcard...

    “Ready or not, here I come!” A child's voice squeaked out, laughed and came stomping down the hallway.  The set of hooves just outside took off, quickly followed by another.

    Breathing out, I slid down against the door and shook my head.  False alarm. All these waving lines of allegiance were beginning to set me on edge.  The slavers were all meant to be together! Now I was finding ever more that this wasn't as much the case as I'd believed.

    Of course, this wasn't helped in that I was working behind Protégé's back myself to my own ends.  There were more sides than just “us and them” going on here.

    Grizzly sighed and stood.  “I should get going, they will miss me before long.  Protégé, think about what you will say tonight at the hearing for future nomination.  If we get you in there to stop Shackles whitewashing this and gaining more power, then you'll need to start making an impact.  You're the poetic sort, think on that. Even one more solid nomination might sway it enough to put you in with a chance.”

    “Yes, sir.  I...thank you sir.  This all feels like it's coming apart, plotting behind doors and having to break rules to protect those same rules...”

    Grizzly just snorted and headed to the door.

    “Welcome to politics.”

    Closing the door behind him, I was left in the small hotel room with Protégé.  Slowly, I saw him lean forward, head in his hooves. This must have felt huge to him.

    “I knew I was considered a potential runner, but to go up against a majority group...” Closing his eyes, I saw him sigh.  “Some days I wished we could all just work together, Murk. Maybe what you told me earlier is what I should have tried for more, right now with even leader working against leader I'm not sure what to think.”

    Biting my lip, I trotted back across.

    “But...maybe if you win this, you could make things better in the future when Stern goes away?  Isn't that worth bending the rules a little to get? To have something better for everypony?”

    Slowly, I saw him open his eyes, rub them and glance across.

    “Yes, yes that would be better.  I'm just tired, Murk. Tired of these hidden meetings, always having to watch my back and never take any moves in the chain of command for granted.  Shackles' play at the Mall was a major point of a power swing in Fillydelphia now that he has presence back. The sooner this is over, the better. The sooner I can speak to Master Red Eye, the sooner we'll solve it.  Till then, we have to keep Shackles from rising ever higher, Murk. You up to it?”

    He stood up, lifting his eyepiece.

    “That is, if you'll help me.  I'm not stupid, I know you have your own agendas here.”

    It somewhat surprised me how fast I thought about it and nodded.

    “I...I want out.  But I have a better chance of that with you than with anypony else.”

    “My way or Glimmer's way?”

    We both went silent.  I knew what this was: a test of trust.  To see whether he could count on me at least for the short term.

    “Both...”

    He clearly thought about what I meant by that, before nodding.

    “Then come on.  We've got to meet List Seeker and find out what he knows about Shackles if he's had a meeting from Wormtail.  Time to go back on the offensive in this game, Murk.”

    He swept past me, cantering out of the room at a speed that I had to almost gallop to catch up.

    Protégé had Red Eye's blessing in vote form behind him.  I knew he wasn't going to let this go easily, and Celestia please understand me, I wanted it for him too.

    This felt familiar.

    List Seeker's munitions forge made my feathers rustle with the sheer heat.  I could feel them wanting to spread and bask in the hot fumes that would lift feathers and stretch out all the sore muscles.  Truth be told, it was a fight to not give in to the urge, we didn't need to call attention to ourselves.

    We had found List Seeker fairly easily, looking over a gantry where he had been shouting to groups of slaves to get an urgent order done on time.  Nicer slaver or not, he still had quotas to meet to keep the higher ups pleased and allow him to continue aiding slaves where he could in here. Spying us from his roost, Seeker pulled the wrap from his face and waved, before pointing to his office on the catwalks above.

    “I have a feeling I know why you're here. Come on in.”

    Meeting us at the top of the stairs, I saw him glance with relief to me.  It seemed I had more people who cared about me being away from Shackles than I knew.  Trotting ahead, he threw open the bare wooden door of his office and knocked it closed again the moment we were through.

    “Seeker, I'm here to-”

    “I know what you're here for, Protégé. You never visit without purpose and given the event later on today I can only imagine what you are after.”

    He lay back in his chair, wiping his dirty and sweating brow with a foul looking towel.

    “I'm afraid I cannot help you.”

    Protégé took the immediate refusal in his stride, trotting over to lay a hoof on Seeker's desk.

    “This could be crucial, Seeker.  I know you hate Shackles as much as I do, that you try to protect your workers here as best you can, just as I do.  We're alike, Seeker. If you help me then perhaps we can make something better of this.”

    “Would that I could.  We aren't all willing to buck against those in power or have the ear of the big guy himself.  Protégé, please listen to what I said in your mind again. I didn't say I didn't want to help you.  I said I cannot help you.”

    There was a change in his voice, a vulnerability as he leaned over his desk to meet Protégé's eyes.

    “These slaves below here in my factory, they are long term workers.  I keep them because I ensure I make every one of them a crucial link.  I understand my place, and they understand it, too. Slavers can't often request from me because I can simply tell the quartermasters how losing such a skilled worker would hurt production of munitions.  Put simply, I have a good thing going here. I make no enemies in a position just important enough to get by, and the slaves stay safe for as long as I can help them.”

    Sitting by the edge of the desk, I could see ranks of photos behind him.  Each a slave below taken on an old camera sitting in the corner. Each had a little note below them...likely the skill they knew.

    “You fear that by taking a side, you would upset the balance?” Protégé spoke quietly.  “Or is it perhaps a visit you got this morning?”

    “Both, you might say.  Unfortunately my hoof has been forced here, Protégé.  Wormtail has visited, and he had information that I keep in a safe.  I've already been told where to cast my vote to keep my workers safe in here.”

    “The Shades...” I muttered it just loudly enough that they both turned to me for a second.

    “You're being blackmailed.” Protégé spoke quietly and Seeker nodded sadly.

    “Shackles has ambitions, and I think he knew you might come to me, on account of us thinking alike.  My nomination must go to him or things will not turn out well for anypony in here if that information gets out.”

    “This information, what was it?”

    “Nothing important.  It was simply a gesture that he could get it.  If somepony can get into my safe like that while I'm here then slitting a throat as I sleep should be no problem.  They are blackmailing under a threat because they know I care, Protégé. If I die, these slaves shall suffer all over again.”

    “So we can't even steal it back...” I was muttering to myself as I looked at all the portraits.  I recognised a few from my brief temporary stints here. Some had red crosses beside them. I could only guess what it meant.

    “Seeker,” Protégé sighed and sat before the desk, “this is important.  They are playing to your fears. If Shackles gets that nomination from you and wins then eventually it will come back to hurt us.  He will be elevated above any of us to such a degree he can simply order it.  I don't know why Master Red Eye hasn't stepped in yet but you must see that we have to fight this!  That we have to stand up and resist him attaining power.  You know he used to-”

    “I know my own city's history, Protégé.”

    “Then you must realise what is at stake!  These workers below you, is short term safety better when it comes with long term submission?  You believe better than this, Seeker. Listen closely, there is a chance that I might be able to challenge him, if I get enough nominations.  Please, tell me you can do better than this, for all of us?  Look what he did to Murky Number Seven here, that will happen if we don't take a stand!”

    His hoof struck the desk hard enough to make me jump and squeak at the sudden noise.  All four hooves leaving the ground, I staggered back and rubbed my ears. When I looked up, I saw List Seeker looking at me, having seen my nervous reaction.

    “I...I saw what he did to you, heard about more.  I...”

    He was tempted.  He wanted to do it.  I could see it in his eyes.

    “I swore I would protect those under my responsibility, Protégé.  I am sorry. One pony's words and wishes cannot change Fillydelphia for the better.  I don't take pleasure in doing this...”

    I could see how disappointed Protégé was.

    “Please, will you at least remember what I have said?  When you come to mark your nomination...just ask yourself if you're doing it out of love to protect or out of the depths of terror.  He's controlling you as much as any slave. If Murk here could break free of that and challenge him...”

    He left the question unanswered.

    “Come on, Murk.  We should make tracks to find somepony else.”

    I saw Seeker sitting at his desk, looking wretched.  I recognised the fear in his eyes as he spun his chair slowly to look at the lists of ponies behind him he cared for across the wall.

    “Protégé?” He spoke quietly, not turning back around.  “How do you know that you are in with a chance? The nominations are kept secret.”

    Both of us stopped in our trotting, sharing a glance.  Before we could answer, Seeker turned his head.

    “You know something the rest of us don't.  In theory, I could barter that as information.  You should be more careful with that. However, in this case I shall not do so, though others might.  That said, it helps me to know you have something here. I am under threat and my nomination will be influenced but...I know something that might help you.”

    Protégé stayed silent, nodding carefully.

    “You know of Mister Mosin, the armourer at the Mall.  Shackles is trying to force through his elevation to become a lead armourer for Fillydelphia's defence network around the wall.  That would then make him eligible to place a further nomination in. Wormtail let that slip when boasting of how easily Shackles would win, so maybe I can't support you...but if those application documents or his nomination slip were delayed...”

    “I understand, List Seeker.  Thank you.”

    “Information is key in this game, Protégé.  That is all I can give you for now. I am sorry.”

    Protégé nodded a second time before turning to go, myself beside him.  He spoke only briefly.

    “Think on what I have said, Seeker.  If you feel ready to take a stand, you know what to do.”

    He left the office.  Leaving me to stare back in only briefly to see the gangly slaver meet my eyes.

    “If I could have taken you in, I would have, Murk.  He's an idealist, but if he says he'll take care of you then you can trust him.  Good luck.”

    “Th-thank you, sir...”

    “Eh, I'm just somepony trying to help folks survive.  Goodbye.”

    Taking the notice, I closed the door and cantered to catch up with Protégé.  We trotted side by side until we were out of the factory with only a few offhoof glances from me at him.  Seeker seemed to think I could definitely trust him, but all the same, most of what I was doing was helping a slaver further his own agenda, even if that was Protégé.

    I just kept reminding myself, play along and do my best.  Take the advantages I could. If it helped slaves in general on the long term...well I guess that was good, right?  I'd never have thought I could make a difference before.

    “Murk?”

    I blinked a few times, feeling a colder wind blow over us coming out of the factory.  “Um...yes?”

    “Mister Mosin's documents, do you think you could do something for me?”

    A chance to steal and mess over Shackles however, was an even better chance to make a difference.

    “I think I could make something happen.”

    “Good, Murk.  Good.”

    We met with a brief smile to one another, plan set in motion.  After trotting a bit further, I bit my lip and thought to ask.

    “You slammed your hoof to scare me on purpose, to try to convince him, didn't you?”

    “I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Murk.”

    “You're grinning.”

    “No I'm not.”

    Huddled and quiet, I lay still near the vent's exit and waited for my chance.

    Getting in had been easy, I knew the route well these days.  Aside from the blood chilling sound of the ghoul stuck in the vertical vent I had to pass over sensing I was above him, there hadn't been any difficulty in getting to here.

    In getting over his office.

    Despite the fear factor, I knew it would be easier than coming in through the plaza duct.  I'd have had to move through open and crowded ground there. If I came out into Shackles' office, I could sneak out the door and through the corridors to Mosin's armoury and his desk inside.

    That is, if I could bring my courage to do it.  Shackles wasn't even in the Mall, but I could see the familiar sights.  The bed I'd made only a few days ago. The cell he'd locked me in. The blood stains on the floor.  My blood...

    I couldn't delay though.  Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and touching a hoof to the statuette in my pocket, I levered the duct's cover away and dropped out into the room.  Landing and huddling to the floor, I closed my eyes and took a good listen.

    Nothing.  Good.

    Creeping forward, I reached for the door knob and gently pulled to find it still open.  Excellent, I had back up plans to scour the vents for another way through but it seemed Wormtail wasn't nearly as thorough as his master.  Yeah. His master.  Not mine.

    Poking my head out, I glanced from side to side.  The Mall was quiet this time of day. No slaves came up here and most of the slavers were likely directing the shift changes right now.  I gently padded out and turned down toward the armoury's direction. Just down the hallway, turn right, up a short stairwell and then double back with it on your left...okay.

    At a quiet canter, I moved forward and kept my ears more than my eyes open.  Sound travelled far in these corridors as I'd so often discovered to my benefit and hardship in the past.  The sound of snoring came from my right, a staff break room converted to a rest area for slavers upon mattresses.  The hairy stallion within drooped across one with a bottle of whiskey nearby. The sight of the drink made me flush all over again, I couldn't believe what I'd said...oh dear...Glimmer was no doubt biding her time to bring it up at opportune moments.

The thought of her had been the temptation to take the plaza route.  I dearly wished I could see them again during this brief visit, but I knew they wouldn't appreciate me taking extra risk simply to say hello.  

“Head high, Murky. You've got to stand on your own sometime.” I quietly muttered, and turned back to the safer route.

Shifting up to the corner, I cast my eyes around and saw the way was clear.  Holding my breath, I moved on to-

    “Just heading to the shitter, mate.  Won't be long!”

Stopping dead, I turned and cantered as fast as I dared back around the corner.  Hooves upon stairs sounded out behind me. Glancing side to side, I ducked into the same room as the sleeping stallion.  Please be as knocked out as I was and don't wake up!

The trot of somepony else came down the corridor, passing right passed the room I now hid in.  Holding my breath as I heard them stop and turn on the spot, a head poked in the door. Crouched down, I simply held still in the shadow itself and prayed they wouldn't glance side to side.

    “Never could handle his drink.  Lightweight.”

The head disappeared, but not until it had disappeared down the corridor did I dare move again.  All this sneaking had been teaching me. They had said they wouldn't be long, implying they would come back.  But that was no reason to go early and risk them turning around.  Wow, I really could do this sneaking thing...

Smiling at the thought, I retraced my steps and headed to the stairwell again.  That slaver had spoken to somepony, so there was no doubt a slaver up here. As such, I crouched low to the stairs and instead used my little mirror to see over the lip of the stairwell.  Squinting to see on the shiny fragment, I saw movement up ahead. Another buck was already wandering away toward the security station we'd once laid our plans to take down Barb in. Perfect!

Tucking away the mirror, I sneaked up and kept behind the pony as they trotted onward.  Watching the ground every half second to avoid loose plates, I bit my lip that they wouldn't turn around until I could reach the left hand turn that would lead me to the armoury.  Ten feet...five feet...don't rush it...don't rush it...

    The buck up ahead stopped.  My heart skipped, but I had to keep going and risk it.  If he turned...

    One...more...foot...

    There!

Creeping as best I could, I slid around the corner he had passed.  Ahead of me lay the armoury door! Huge and thick, it nonetheless lay open.  I could hear somepony trotting around inside humming to themselves. I couldn't risk hanging around outside, so I made my way to the door and used my mirror to glance in.

Blunderbuck was half skipping between cages and a workbench, humming musically and at times almost dancing even while he worked.  Blunderbuck was a good pony, but I couldn't risk anypony seeing me.  'No evidence' was what Protégé had said.  Seeing him looking away at his workbench and straining with a wrench, I took the chance to slip into the armoury.

Thankfully, it being so crushed in with cages and boxes, hiding or moving unseen in here was simple.  Sticking close to the walls, I squeezed myself in behind the weapon cages and stayed completely out of sight as I moved toward the back where Protégé had informed me Mosin kept his desk.

“Hmm...I think you'll look lovely with a four holed flash suppressor won't you?  Oh yes, you will! Then we'll take a look and see what sights you need to just complete you, honey!  Oh! Maybe I can even give you a little paint job, you like a little orange?”

Blunderbuck spoke as though he was dressing up a foal, clearly taking a delight in his work.  It became clear why he put up with Mosin if he got to play with the things he loved. Sticking to my route, I slid underneath a table bearing various guns in a state of disrepair and moved behind the primary cage in the centre of the room to reach the massive shelves that formed up the back of the armoury.  I could see Mosin's desk at the far end under a flickering lamp, nicely out of sight from Blunderbuck at his workstation. Hoof by hoof, I made my way toward it as the light flickered on again.

    I almost screamed as I saw somepony huge standing right there.

Stuffing my hoof into my mouth to stifle it, I staggered back and almost made to run.  The colossal figure loomed up ahead of me, held aloft by wires and rope tied around them.  It...it was metal.

It was a suit of Steel Ranger armour.  Dull eyes stared forever outward from the massive figure while its powered joints looked primed and ready to...to...flex?  Was that the word? Even the sight made the back of my neck feel all cold and tingly at the memory of those fire wreathed figures in the Stable chasing us with unimaginable firepower.  With a chance to finally see one for what it was, I saw every line of metal, every carefully hoof crafted flourish of design and every thick rivet that stood out upon the plates. More than ever, I reflected on how huge they were, this one seeming even bigger than I remembered.  The thought that normal ponies were inside them...wow.

It seemed older than the others though, bearing less machine produced parts and more adornment along the hooves and crest while yet seeming less advanced.  Heavier and less refined, it clearly was an earlier model. Maybe even a proto...protowhatever it was. Upon its flank, I saw a single giant green apple.

    Wow...

I'd have to draw it later.  But for now, I had work to do.  Trotting around it to the desk, I set myself behind it and opened my saddlebag.  Protégé had provided me with a copy of both application documents and a nomination form to help me compare and identify anything of use to steal.  Mosin's desk was filled with notes and schematics of various weapons, along with trinkets like a Hellhound's tooth and a glued together collection of various rifle rounds.  Annoyingly, his documents seemed written with worse handwriting than my meagre attempts. Either that or it was just his own language or codewords or something. I still couldn't read anyways.  Not that I'd need to.

Shifting through the papers with the copy documents in hoof, I got absolutely nowhere.  Nothing seemed even vaguely similar!

“Let's just put you in a place you'll love.  I've got an Ironshod over-under that you'll look a beauty next to!  Look at his bayonet, isn't it shiny? Yes it iiiiis!”

The cage this desk was behind opened and I heard Blunderbuck shifting around inside it.  Grabbing a bunch of papers, I ducked down again and kept comparing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing!

“Come on, give me a break...” I muttered quietly and placed the papers back on top, before turning to his drawers.  “Just one bit of luck?”

Yanking them open quickly, I had to hop up on my hind legs to see inside, almost leaning my head right into it. My hooves scrambled through it all.  

“Come on, come on...aha! Got it!” I grinned to myself.

His nomination form lay in my hooves, with a tick already on it upon who he wanted.

    “Ohooiet!  I leave you alone for single second and already with the fucking paint!  Ey, parshiviy, syuda idi!”

    Oh no!

    “Oh!  Hello, sir!  I was just-”

    “What in fuck have you done to poor rifle?  Using pussy plastic shit all over the proud wood it was designed for!  Oyobuk!  Get paint thinner before it sinks in and remove anything not ten years old!  Is looking like fucking book of comic! You hear that?”
   
    “Hear what?”

    I sure didn't hear anything.

    “That!  Is sound of original designer spinning in grave fast enough to power fucking country!”

Feeling sorry for Blunderbuck, I bit my lip and looked up briefly to see their vague shapes through the cage.  I liked his designs; he was just having fun trying things, I knew he could make things that worked too. I was wearing one.  Blunderbuck just got carried away sometimes, that was all...

    I heard a wooden hoof hit something and Blunderbuck yelping in pain.

    “Fix shit now!”

    “Yes, sir!”

    “All is polnyi pizdets...at least I get to sort out ridiculous children with guns on wall soon.”

I heard him trot across the armoury, thankfully not in this direction.  Around the edge of the cage, I saw Blunderbuck sigh and reach for a tin of paint thinner and a bucket.  The poor buck looked more disappointed in his imagination being stopped than anything else. I still believe in you, Blunderbuck...

Nevertheless, I had a job to do.  My concern for him had to come second, if I were caught I was very much beyond help!  Casting a glance to his form, I made to simply take it. Let's see him vote with this!

However, the thought eventually came to me.  I got a copy of it...what if he could as well?  This was a last ditch effort by Protégé and me, but it could still go wrong.  I needed something better...

    Oooh, thank you Glimmer!

Taking all of it, I trotted to the side and hid behind the cage I'd approached through.  Pulling my charcoal out, I leaned down and placed Mosin's form beside my copy. I could see his signature at the bottom, a spiky and harsh kind of writing.  With careful ease, I leaned down to the copy and began to copy the shapes. Letters were hard, but I knew curves and shape much better! Gradually, I sketched through it all.

    “Assistant!  Where is form?”

    “No idea, sir!  Didn't you leave it in your drawer?”

Looking up, I saw relocating had been a good idea.  Barely ten feet away, Mosin was messing around his desk, apparently uncaring that some things weren't in the same place.  He clearly wasn't as careful as Protégé. Trying to move slowly, I finished up the signature. Now...the hard bit...

    He had no doubt voted Shackles...so that was how his name looked...

    Now, 'p' was...it was...um...oh dear...

    I scanned the form, looking for Protégé's name.  I could do more than just have Mosin not vote!

'P' was a...a line with...um...a circle.  But there was another that looked so similar with it all flipped, the 'd'!  Which was it? I sat and strained my head, closing my eyes and trying to remember Protégé's patient tuition on these arcane symbols.  I could feel my wings jittering nervously, overacting with their newfound movement. Come on, I was a new pony now! I could do this!

    Oh...oh wait.

    Looking at all the candidates, there was only one with a line and a circle attached.  That had to be him!  None started with a 'd'!  It was the best I could try, I just hoped I was right.  Marking a little tick beside his name, I grinned and folded it back up.  Carefully, I tried to copy all the little marks. Good enough!

    “Is not here!  Tell me you did not scribble your youth fantasies of what you call weapon on again?”

    “I didn't, sir!  Here, let me look!”

    Behind Mosin's back, I gently slipped the false one back onto the desk and hid before Blunderbuck came around.

    “Um, sir?  It's right here.”

    “Wha...what in fuck is...I must be getting old.  Assistant, take slip and deliver. I will clean up after mess you leave, yeban'ko maloletnee!  Go!”

Blunderbuck grabbed the form in his mouth and took off, no doubt glad to be away from Mister Mosin for a while.  The stallion turned, his wooden hoof distinct on the floor before collapsing onto his chair.

“Is driving to madness, is this place...too much paper, too little action.  Shouting worked much better in Stalliongrad. Authority through volume, yes.  Ridiculous mountain trek shit on supply, giving slave winter rifle...”

Overhearing his mutterings, I was already creeping away and almost following Blunderbuck as he went.  Stopping only briefly, I leaned onto a shelf and relieved them of a gun repair kit. Glimmerlight had wanted one, after all!  Hooking the heavy metal box onto my saddle, I left the armoury and began my journey back to outside.

    I just hoped this would make a crucial difference.  Protégé had to be one of the nominations or Fillydelphia was in for a very bad future indeed.

“Murk!  Were you successful?” Protégé got up from the old seat in the high rise we'd once visited, our designated meeting point after my mission.
   
It hadn't taken long, really.  After stashing the repair kit and some of my new acquirements outside near our old cell's door, I hadn't waited to get back to him.  Now I wandered happily in and nodded.

    “You got it?”

    “Um...hehe...better, I gave him it back.  Just with your name on it.”

There was a moment of realisation in his face, before he couldn't hide the genuine look of sudden admiration at the cheeky grin I wore.

“Very good, Murk.  I'm glad you're no doubt getting something from your first lesson alone.  Now come on, we'll have to get back to the FunFarm, the nominations won't be too long from now and I must be there early.”

    “Do...do you think this can work?”

    “It'll have to, Murk.” Protégé seemed unsure for himself.  “Shackles can't win here.”

He led the way back through the corridors and past the old robot still cleaning up.  Along the way, Protégé seemed to ponder on something and looked to me.

    “Tell me, Murk.  How did you get it back without them spying the difference?  You couldn't have made it precise...”

    I just smiled and continued trotting with my head held up like a pegasus should.

    “Oh, showing just enough to make them fill in the rest themselves is better than showing all.”

I quoted Glimmer word-for-word and trotted on proudly.  Only after a second did I realise the very odd and confused look he was giving me as his lips silently repeated the words to himself.

    “What?”

The trip back was cautious.  Travelling through Fillydelphia openly was simply an invitation to anypony who sought a chance to get us alone.  As such, we stuck mostly to primary routes to better remain under the watchful eyes of the griffons. Protégé was silent, occasionally moving his lips as though debating something to himself; likely about what Old Grizzly had asked him to do.  Only after stopping at the logistics hub to find Ragini and bring her along did we finally move toward the FunBarn itself.

    Protégé stopped near to the entrance and turned back to me.  He held a dark look to his eye.

    “Murk, you are sure you wish to come here with me?  You could go back to the logistics depot if you want.”

    “W-why?  Isn't it safer with you?”

    He seemed reluctant, as though unsure how to word it.  Unfortunately, Ragini decided to just say it for him.

    “That bastard Shackles will be in here, feathers.  Likely that's what he thinks about. You can go and hide if you want.”

She smirked, as though taunting me to do just that.  I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like she was daring me to try and be more than that.  Protégé cast her a harsh glance for cutting in, but the griffon just shrugged. She certainly cared less about rank than before...

    “I...I'll come with you.” I gulped.  “H-he doesn't own me now. Let’s just...um...let's try and not go near him?”

    Ragini scoffed and shook her head derisively.  Protégé just patted my shoulder and nodded.

“We'll try.  However, Murk, this is the nominations to take place.  All higher-ranked slavers eligible will meet in the main presentation hall of the FunBarn for the announcing of it.  If you are with me, you will see him there.  This is it, Murk.”

    He turned and looked back at the entrance, flanked by heavily armoured guards.

“I just hope that the one trick you pulled is enough, Murk.  That or requiring Seeker to pull through for us. Not to mention whatever else they have planned.  I don't like those Shades on the loose.”

“Bring 'em to me.” Ragini murmured to herself and hefted the larger rifle of her pair, the energy one.  “Talons and the Shades got a score to settle.”

    “This isn't about your revenge, Ragini.”

    “Just saying...if there's a clean shot between me and them, I don't care if Red Eye himself is talking at the time.”

She moved on into the FunBarn ahead of us, leaving Protégé looking rather concerned at her back bearing the broken wings.  Edging beside him, I coughed a little.

    “I'll come in...m-maybe I might hear something needed.  You need all the support you can...”

    Protégé didn't remove his eyes from the building.

“All right, Murk.  Let's just hope this goes how it needs to now.  There's one hour till the announcements, but I must prepare first.  We have to assume this will work. The moment this is done, I shall attempt to see if I can get an audience with Master Red Eye.  He will be interested in what you have to say, Murk.”

Following him up to the door, the guards seemed surprised to see it was me.  Of course, they'd chased me when I was here with Unity. The interior was much the same, polished wooden or concrete floors alongside cracked pink paint upon the walls until we opened out into the central hub where slaves sat bent over terminals.  I had to weave around slavers to follow Protégé as the crowds got thicker. Clearly, this event was of particular importance to any slaver that bore some sort of major responsibility in Fillydelphia. A few I remembered seeing on Red Eye's balcony at the Pit.  One I remembered from Shackles and Grindstone's meeting. Some I recognised from shifts, while others were entirely new to me.

    There was talk.  Oh...there was talk.

Moreso, the moment Protégé had entered the room, I heard conversations change.  Trotting behind him, my ears picked out hushed whispers remarking on his stance alongside Red Eye or muttered curses against the slave made slaver.  If Protégé heard then he made no notice, simply stepping around the groups and continuing his way to the back stairs.

    Fillydelphia was as divided about him as they were about how they treated slaves.

    Of course, there were the glances toward me...

    “Hey!  Since when did his wings work?”

    “Wasn't he the one in the Pit?”

    “Looks like teacher's pet got himself a toy!”

Huge slavers or nasty looking overseers eyed me up, causing me to weave through the crowds to keep up with Protégé.  I tried to keep my wings on my side, tried to not let them see the fear in my eyes that any next face could be his.  Word would spread, he'd know before long. Oh this maybe wasn't a good idea...

    Finally, at last, we reached the stairs and ascended out of the crush.  Ragini was waiting on the far end for us.

    “I'll keep an eye down here, sir.  Get a feel for the ground.”

“Good thinking, Ragini.  I won't be long before I come back down.” He turned to me as we continued on, Ragini taking up post by the stairs.  “My apologies, Murk. It's just best to keep quiet and move on. Don't worry, it'll be quieter up here.”

    “Th-thank you...”

We emerged to the same line of offices I'd once seen before with Unity.  To my surprise, Protégé moved into the same one we had once visited, belonging to Old Grizzly.  With the window overlooking the side of the FunBarn and the rollercoaster, the red light of Fillydelphia lit up the desk and the massed Pinkie Pie birthday cards that Grizzly had apparently never bothered to get rid of.

    Only, it wasn't unoccupied.  Grizzly was there.

    As was a foal.

A little colt sat at the desk wearing the black and red attire of Red Eye's students, but he bore an almost comically oversized, floppy hat that barely even fitted his head.  I stopped in the doorway and stared. I'd seen him before in a memory!

    The colt looked up, as did Grizzly.

“Mister Protégé!” The colt's voice was high pitched and excitable. He leapt off the raised chair to charge around the desk and barrel into the unicorn.  Smiling, Protégé patted his head and gently stepped back from the tiny figure's embrace around his neck.

    “How are you doing, Chirpy?”

    Chirpy Sum!

    It was him!

    Coral Eve's son.

“You'll never believe it, Protége!” Chirpy was, if anything, a colt who lived up to his name.  “Mister Grizzly let me work on the procurement documents because somepony messed up all the numbers!  I got to work with tons of decimal points and he even let me do it on the terminal and send it off! I did it for real!”

The little earth pony was bouncing on all four hooves with a huge grin on his face.  His two tone blue mane and tail bounced about from his hopping, headed up by a massive white grin below huge rounded and bright eyes of turquoise.  Unlike Coral's light grey, he seemed to have a soft and sandy brown as a coat instead.

“Very good, Chirpy.  I knew allowing you to get more practical experience would be what you needed.  I am very glad to hear you're enjoying it.”

    “Enjoying it?  He's faster than I ever was.” Old Grizzly chuckled while he trotted over and patted a big hoof onto the very proud looking colt's head.  “Quick little learner, that's for sure.”

“Uh huh!  Mister Grizzly said I could come work in your place cos it's got lots and lots of stuff needing done too and was still technically a bit of the FunBarn!  That's still within Daddy Red Eye's area!”

My heart almost stopped. Was that Daddy he’d said?

    Already, I dreaded Coral having to find that out.

    “So Mister Grizzly said I could come!  Can I? He said I could!”

    “Did he now?”

    I saw the look they gave each other.  Somepony had just been elected childminder without being asked.  If I weren't so concentrated in the idea that Chirpy was right here, I might have laughed.  What was I supposed to do? Did I tell him I knew his mother? Would it upset him? Did I try to get a message to him?  I just didn't know what to say here, for the effect of Red Eye's influence as a teacher upon Chirpy was evident. Being present through the foal's development had set him into an important figure in the same way I saw Glimmer as a sister.

    “I really really want to work with you, Mister Protégé!  Cause you're real smart and stuff!”

    “I'm sure we can arrange it, Chirpy.  Sir, would you mind passing on the request form for out of hotel training for Chirpy?”

    “Mind?  Hah, it's already done.”
   
“I...see.” There was that look again, although Protégé seemed to take it on the chest and smiled to the colt.  “I'll be glad to have you around. But come, where are my manners? Here's my current assistant for you to meet, Chirpy.  This is Murk.”

    I lifted a hoof and waved lightly.  “Um...hi?”

My hoof was suddenly shaken hard, the foal using both of his own to do so. Chirpy Sum skipped around me a few times. Hopping up, he landed in front of me and pushed his face up to mine, those impossibly large pupils in his eyes bright with glee.

“Oh!  Hiya, Mister Murk!  You're Mister Protégé's assistant?  Wow, you're lucky! I've heard about you from Starshine and Lilac!  They're two really good friends of mine! They said you knew my mo-”

“I believe we should perhaps get down to business, Protégé.” Grizzly cut in.  “Chirpy? Go next door to see Overseer Comet, he'll take you back to the Hotel for dinner and get your papers organised to maybe visit the logistics hub later today, alright?”

    “Okay, Mister Grizzly!” Chirpy turned and saluted up with a hoof with a big grin.  He jumped up on the spot and spun to face the other way to trot out.

    “I hope we get to talk soon, Mister Murk!  I...um...Lilac said-”

    “Chirpy.” Old Grizzly's voice dropped just a little.

    The colt cut off and gulped.  Nodding, he left the room. Old Grizzly and Protégé both seemed to glare at me.

“While I appreciate you bringing a new foal to us, Murk, reminding them of their parents they can't see again is not a wise idea.” Grizzly didn't seem to enjoy the fact of saying it, as though reading off a mental script.  “Don't mention Coral Eve to him.”

    “Yes, sir.”

I could grin inside my head.  I was lying through my teeth to say that.  Protégé stared closely, maybe he knew that I was lying.  He'd always been good at that, but he stayed silent.

“Now, Protégé.  We should prepare for what will emerge, should you win out.  We have forty minutes. Go over what you will say to me, I trust you to turn it into a speech to rival Shackles' call for union and results, but I want to ensure you say what they need to hear by my estimate.”

“Sir, there are things Master Red Eye must know.  You know this, but Murk has some information of his own we didn't have time to talk about about before regarding their plans to take to the mountains outside Fillydelphia and-”

“One thing at a time, Protégé.  One thing at a time. We need to win you a nomination first.  Then we'll talk about what needs to be done for the future. Now sit down, let me hear what you have.  If you could move to the corridor and keep a watch I'd be very pleased, Murk.”

    “Yes, sir...”

Passing a last glance with Protégé as I left him with one of his old teachers, I moved to sit outside the door and await him.  Even as I slumped back, a door beside me opened and an overseer trotted out with Chirpy in tow.

    The little colt saw me and smiled, but didn't say a word.  He just nodded.

    Smiling thinly, I nodded back.

    Smart kid, Coral had raised him well.  He knew the score here. We would wait to get a better chance to speak.

The time passed slowly.  For once lately, I found myself simply sitting with nothing to do but think.  Occasionally I heard Protégé speaking through the doorway, muffled lines and test segments of speech quickly tempered by Grizzly's deeper tone.  But on the whole, I was left to myself simply to act as a watchdog. Despite understanding the purpose, I couldn't help but feel detached from the entire thing.

I hadn't quite realised how important this was to him until now.  It had just been taking time to help him at first. But feeling the time mounting and the clock ticking down to this moment, the realisation of just how important this nomination was began to sink in.  This wasn't just keeping Shackles out, this was something truly meaningful to Protégé and his continued life. A chance for him to perhaps make some real change here.

    The next few hours would be crucial.

So I simply sat and waited.  The waiting was always the worst.  I spent it drawing my friends or myself with my wings again, with the DJ in my ear.  Eventually however, the urge to draw began to fade as ideas began to falter. After putting the finishing strokes to an image of Pinkie Pie cracking up with laughter and surrounded by sprite bots, I simply lay my head back against the wall.  The thought that she had given me such clues and indications was almost like a dream unto itself. Really, I wished I could get another of Sundial’s messages to play soon. If I was lucky, it might even contain further clues on what to expect down there; but truly I was just curious to hear what had happened next after Pinkie had set him to this task.

    “We've not much news on the Stable Dweller's little excursion other than a rumour passing by me that she was spotted heading away from Canterlot and toward Maripony itself.  Now, my little ponies, we can only guess what she's up to now, but don't think this won't be something beneficial. Just keep believing and keep fighting that good fight, wasterlanders.  We can all stand up for something now and again. I know I tell folks to keep your head down,, but sometimes you just gotta put it up high and take the chance. Put yourself in the firing line to do what's right.  In the end, somepony’s gotta stand up tall.  Here's something to boost those fightin' spirits...”

    My PipBuck clicked and switched over to a wartime number by Sweetie Belle, intended to lift the mood of soldiers listening in the field and get them willing to defend their country.  The DJ had mentioned all that before, but as I listened now I simply sighed and hoped that I could muster that same spirit when the time truly came.

Behind me, I heard the voices stop.  Hooves trotted up and toward the door.  Perking up, I tucked away my journal and hopped up.  With a click, the door unlocked and opened for Old Grizzly to step out.

Behind him came Protégé.  I'd never seen him looking so serious; so drawn and on edge as though desperately memorising things he needed.

    “You will accompany us, Murk.  You are my assistant and you should be in attendance.”

    “Of course, I'll come and-”

    “Yes will suffice, Murk.  Do not forget to address me by rank.”

His voice was terse. Taken aback from the harsher look he gave me, I got a sense of just how seriously he had to take this.  All the same, I couldn't help but feel myself rebel against that side of him. The slaver.

    “Yes, master.”

    “Better.  Now come on.”

The FunBarn was all filtering toward one room.  Amongst the crowds, we were afforded a decent space.  Protégé and Grizzly led, followed by Ragini and myself.  Despite myself, I stuck close to her amongst the harsh gazes of those who had once worked me to the bone.  Once too close, as I felt her talon clip the side of my head to back off.

    That one room they moved toward now opened before me.  A room for Ministry of Morale trials.

    A courtroom.

Everypony seemed to know where to go.  Old Grizzly split off and shifted through the seating to where a judge might once have sat, taking his place at the seat of power itself.  Of course, he'd been put in charge of the nominations. I just hoped nopony had got wind of the information he had 'leaked' to Protégé. Beside him I saw various officials from Red Eye's staff take their seats.  Everypony else filed into the viewing areas by the sides and front of the room. In the middle, there lay two enclosed sections with one chair each, no doubt for victim and criminal in times gone past. Was that how it worked?  I didn't really know. Before the primary seat, between those two areas was one more line of chairs, likely where somepony having to face the wrath of the Ministry would sit to hear their sentence.

    The entire thing was somewhat thrown off by the party balloons painted on the curtains all around the edges.  Oh Pinkie...

    “Well...well...well...”

All the sound in the room disappeared from my ears but for that one voice behind me.  Everything in my mind, rebellious nature and optimism collided with fear and loathing.  To turn or to flee. He wasn't my master...he wasn't my master...

    “Look what turned up here.”

    I turned.

Ahead of me, standing in the aisle with his enormous bulk, was Chainlink Shackles.  Every muscle in my body was tensing painfully, my eyes trying not to cringe in terror.  Huge, harsh, and bearing a wide grin, Chainlink Shackles trotted toward me. Only after my first glance did I see he was badly limping, one front leg stood up with a wooden aid and various body supports on his torso and neck.  A tube ran from his nose to a small whirring machine clasped to his armour. Brimstone had truly messed him up; but even with that, the atmosphere he cast over me was impossibly strong.

    “Come to return yourself to me, eh?  Come back to your Master?”

    Moment of truth, Murky.  Do it. Do it for your friends.

    “N-no.”

He stopped on the spot, ten feet away from me.  His eyes narrowed. Slavers passed either side of him, but we were left to face one another amidst the crowd.  I couldn't see where Protégé was. I was alone with him.

    “I...I'm with Prot-”

    “That isn't a choice you can make, Number Seven.” He resumed stepping forward, myself moving backwards and stumbling.  “You are mine and after this is over you will return with me, understand?”

    “No!  I'm not yours, I'm-argh!”

    I tripped back from moving without looking.  Falling on my rump, he loomed over me and began to reach a hoof forward.

    “Never your choice, slave.  You're destined to be with me. You can run to the upstart, but he can't protect you.  The longer you remain away the longer I shall make your punishment for defiance. You don't even get to die until I tell you.  By your mark, by my will you survived by fate to be mine and-”

    “NO!”

He could scare me.  He could make me sweat and shiver.  I could have nightmares about being his and fear the collar that still hung at his side.  But I knew why I survived and that was not it!

    “My friends brought me back, Shackles!  My mark is to be free! I'm not yours!  I...I never w-will be any more!”

    “Insolent worm, shut up!”

His hoof struck me across the face hard.  I hadn't expected him to move as quick. Feeling my jaw wrench I fell to the floor.  Around me, slavers had stopped to watch. I saw some looking confused at my presence at all.  Others grinned with satisfaction at the unruly slave being put in his place. Most just seemed annoyed at the disturbance I'd made by shouting.

    “You've got some ridiculous ideas in your head to believe that, Number Seven.  You're coming with me. In your collar, you shall be the icon of how I shall move forward in my city.  Of unswerving obedience. Now hold still.”

    I made to get up, to turn and simply flee, but slavers were all around us.  I could hear Protégé far off! They had all heard my protest, they saw this as right.  I wanted to shout, but the words didn't come.

    “Back off, Shackles!  He's not yours now.”

The collar stopped coming toward me, before Shackles stood back up and glanced angrily to the side.  Ragini stood grimly with her eyes locked on him.

“Murky Number Seven belongs by his will to Master Protégé by stint of voluntary assistance rules.  Unless Murk chooses to be yours again, he isn't.”

    “You're playing a dangerous game, 'flightless.' Look around you...these are those who support my vision.  The runt will be mine in time.”

    I saw Ragini's talon loosely grip around her rifle's trigger guard.

“Rules are rules in this city.  I only enforce them. Even if the dodo's an annoying brat, he's Protégé's annoying brat.  You can take the issue up with Grizzly if you want. He's senior in this room.”

    “Hehe...Old Grizzly is nothing but an appointed favourite for his tone.  He is no slaver for time to remember. You wonder why he's never been anything but a senior advisor and small time master?  You can keep the runt for now...but he'll come back to me eventually. After all...”

    He narrowed his eyes, reaching forward and almost lovingly stroking my chin.

    “Blood is thicker than water, runt.  You'll come crying to me eventually. Especially when you imagine what your friends are going through.”

    “They...they're strong...”

    “Perhaps.  Slaves only last so long in the metro though...”

    He grinned at the shocked look across my face.  He'd put them in the metro!  In the mines!  Please...please be all right!  I felt the temptation to give in now, just to try and bargain for them to be out of there, but I knew I had nothing to bargain with.  Shackles cackled and turned to trot down toward the front of the courtroom with his supporters in tow.  He knew the worry he'd instilled in my heart. The thought of that pony I'd seen with the infected wounds...then seeing Glimmer's face on hers and...no!

“Get up, kid.  Don't dare move anywhere you're not supposed to.  It's unusual you're here at all.” Ragini muttered down to me as she nearly dragged me into the back rows.

    “I won't...I just...th-thank you...”

    “Shut up.”

I hunched into my chair, trying to fight back the tears of anguish as I imagined my friends down there.  I wanted to get rid of the images in my head. To stop seeing the worst. In an attempt to stay sane and even somewhat controlled to myself, I glanced around.

Protégé, Shackles, Grindstone, and various other slavers I'd seen hold higher authority sat near the front.  I could see Slit off to one side near to Mosin. List Seeker was on the opposite side, looking grim and forgone.  More filtered in, taking their positions.

I could see Shackles glancing back at me, eye to eye.  I tried to hold the stare, I really did. But his mouth moved and I heard quiet words only for my ears whisper across the room.

    “I can see you shaking, Number Seven.  See the fear in your eyes...”

    Squinting and pulling my gaze away, I only heard him chuckle and turn back around.

“This event shall begin now!” Grizzly had stood up, clapping a hoof on the wooden table before him.  “Quiet down. This should not take long and you can all be on your way. The order of the day shall be the final announcement of the nomination votes as counted in the last hour.  There were some late entries from newer promotions but the results now sit before me. In the event of a single majority, we shall hold a hearing from the winner and officially recognise them as Stern's successor in the future.”

    “Hold up!  Hold up!” A voice cried out from near the front.  “Where is Stern?  For that matter where is Red Eye himself?”

    “Hear!  We cannot proceed with this in the absence of the leader!”

“Red Eye is currently tasked with the preparations for Unity itself with Stern's tactical aid.” Grizzly spoke over them.  “The timing is unfortunate, but he or she will not be joining us. They have cast their votes and Red Eye has given his goodwill to the restoration of democratic representation from those considered of a level to understand the elements involved.”

    He stopped, as though offering a space for somepony to talk.  Nopony did.

“As said, in the event of a single noticeable nomination we shall declare a winner.  However in the event of more than one leader with numerous votes, we shall enter into a formal path of election and hear from each nominee with their personal elements for the city as a whole to vote between them rather than having freedom of voting for anypony.”

“What if one pony has a much bigger majority?” That was Slit, she sat looking rather bored and eager to try and point out any loopholes.  I knew her as the kind to do that.

    “No change.  All that matters here is identifying those who have some degree of support.”

“But if somepony is bigger on votes then surely they win!” Slit carried her protest, before being shouted up by many of Shackles' supporters.  They clearly knew their route here.

“Because most of you all vote for yourself!” Grizzly shouted over the noise.  “A secondary election will then force you all to pick a candidate and get a true majority!  That is Red Eye's will! That is how this will be done!”

    “Sounds like double voting for me!  A chance to screw them over!” Another Shackles supporter.

    To my surprise, it was Protégé that stood this time.

“Master Red Eye has decreed this!  It is by his neutral opinion that this be designed to allow a better system rather than a simple popularity contest!”

    Didn't he sound different!  I'd never heard him so harsh in argument, but I figured this was the place for it.

    “Neutral position?  Says the teacher's pet and 'prodigy' himself?”

    Wormtail was making his presence known, I hadn't even noticed him slipping in.

    “Master Red Eye knows how to do this, Wormtail.” Protégé turned to glare up at him.  “This is, by simple mathematics, a fairer system.”

“Then why does it allow bias in the room for decisions and support of speeches, hmm?  Never think of that, upstart?” Wormtail was taking from Shackles' vocabulary again. “They bar slavers of greater knowledge yet allow you to bring a mercenary and a slave in here to support you?”

    That got a good cheer, I could hear Grizzly attempting to gather some sort of 'order' over it all.

    “Especially as one of them is a known mutant that could overhear sensitive details and pass it on to you!  Who knows? That PipBuck of his could send messages to your little gift from Red Eye!”

    “This is ridiculous!” Protégé shouted up, a hoof stomping on the seating panel.  “The system works, you are simply trying to confuse it under your own bias!”
   
“Now who's accusing who?” Grindstone stood beside Protégé.  “Perhaps if you wish to prove this 'unbiased way' of Red Eye in such a good system you should remove those two from this room?  Or do you have any objection to that?  By rule they shouldn't even be here if other slavers are not here instead.”

There was a silence.  I was sure Ragini, Grizzly, and Protégé could see what just happened.  That was a planned argument. Slowly, I saw Protégé look up at us and slowly turn to Grizzly.  The old pony knew it, they were forced into an argumentative corner.

“The masters are right, Protégé,” he spoke slowly, carefully, “technically Ragini and Murky Number Seven should not be present if they are not permitted to bring their own aids and assistants in as support.”

He was being forced to allow their wishes.  Everypony knew it made no difference, they just wanted to force him to concede to something.  If he didn't, the entire process was likely to fall apart in argument that I was sure Shackles would take advantage of.  Slowly, Protégé nodded and sat down again. Grizzly looked up to us.

“Ragini and Murk, if you would return to your place of work.  The hearing is being broadcast on the frequency of Red Eye's secondary channel should you wish to listen in still.”

That was that.  We hadn't a choice but to up and leave.  I passed a smugly grinning Wormtail on the way out.  Looking back, I saw Protégé sitting alone at the front, surrounded by those who would seek to bring him down.  I hated to leave him like that, but really...I had no choice now.

We were led away and escorted from the FunBarn, a few of Grindstone's slavers ensuring to not let up on our tail until Ragini and I were outside.  Really, I was glad she was still there at the very least. Without her I'd be easy prey.

    “S-so what now?” I looked up (and further up) at the taller griffon.

She just snorted derisively.  “You go back to the warehouse.  I've just been given a bit of free time to go about my own business.  Now where did you last see that Shade?”

I told her, pointing out the building across from the warehouse behind the FunBarn.  Ragini lightly unslung her rifle and loosened off her neck.

    “I'll be back soon.  Just going to go hunting...”

    “They're probably gone.  They are really good at sneaking and, um...”

    “I caught you didn't I?  Those raiders aren't going to get away.  They took my fucking wings, I'm going to repay the favour to them before they die.  Talons.  Don't. Forget.”

    She stalked off, clicking her head around to the rooftops as she went.  That griffon sure was intense. I remembered her breaking necks with her talons alone in the Mall, with any luck she might find the Shades.  Much as I hated killing in general, it would be a weight off my mind if they were gone.

Unfortunately, it left me rather alone.  Not wanting to take risks, I galloped off back to the warehouse instead.  The guards let me through without incident, allowing me into the main store room.  Within, I could see some of the slavers surrounding a radio, listening to the hearing themselves.  The thought to take the time and lift some more things occurred to me, but seeing Mudball staring and seeming to grin at me being kicked out of the hearing, I really just wanted to go someplace safe.  Taking the catwalks, I instead went to Protégé's office and clicked the lock shut behind me. After a second of seeing only his chair and his bed, I instead trotted to the stairs and wearily climbed them into the attic.  It felt safer. More hidden.

    Besides, I hoped the height up here might eventually set off a message I was dying to hear.

The Shade's kit was still lying around.  Some discarded tins of food and notepads to take details on.  Even a camera rested on one side, presumably to take pictures of Protégé's files without having to conspicuously steal them.   Aside from that, the attic was mostly empty, just a set of dusty chairs and cabinets under the wooden beams and the bullet hole ridden water tank.  An old roll of wallpaper about ten feet wide lay nearby too, but that was about that. The attic had long been stripped clean of anything that wasn’t junk wooden furniture too heavy to lift, or cobwebs.  How boring.

Fiddling with my PipBuck, I wound the frequency dial around until at last I heard Grizzly's commanding voice shouting over as much of an argument as when I'd left.  I heard Grindstone protesting about the precise ranks involved. Protégé argued the case by definition. Most fell into a blank noise.

    “This process is to build a better future!  One where might does not simply make right, Grindstone!  One we might be able to transfer away from these dark days to past Unity and the new generation!” Protégé argued passionately but sternly.

    “Fillydelphia was built upon leadership!  You would seek to remove strong leadership to instead permit vote gathering and politics to muddy that which should be counted upon!  Red Eye has always led us well, why should this not continue?”

“He has already made his choice, this was his idea!  This isn't about changing the boon of leadership, but simply finding the best way to ensure a continuation of that leadership.  This is not an election of a new leader for us all.”

“He has been wrong before and changed plans based upon our feedback, Protégé!  Long before you came here, we helped him shape this. Why risk a fracture? I know it's not replacing Red Eye, but this could set a precedent for the future.”

Briefly, I wondered why Grindstone was seeking so hard to overrule the entire process.  Didn't he want Shackles to use it to win? Maybe they were getting wind that it was less of a sure thing now and didn't like the idea that Protégé could seek a victory based upon him and Shackles in competition?

This was all far over my head.  Either that or he wished it to avoid this process to simply see Shackles' majority as the only clear path.  They were trying to shut Protégé out, rather than allow Shackles in.

    “The process is decided.” Grizzly cut into the argument.  “Red Eye gave his order to carry it through, if you wish to object upon it, you can see him afterwards. But for now we will do as commanded and count the nominations.  Much of it has already been drafted from early submissions.”

    “Then reveal them already!” I heard Wormtail shout that, followed by most of the arguing slavers present.  “Who voted for who?”

    “We will not be revealing names, anonymity is assured, that is why I have my position.  However, even as I see them before me here, there is one clear majority.”

    Oh no.

    “One clear majority and one smaller spike in votes for a second party.  These being for Chainlink Shackles and Protégé.”

    The courtroom burst into opposition and support.  Most of the older slavers called for the simple clear majority to simply take it and win.  That was no doubt the crux of Shackles and Grindstone's plan, to use the theory of 'most wins.' Now I saw it, they knew he would get the most and simply wanted to, well, simplify it all.  Push it on through with 'popular' support. Protégé had to try and argue for it to be an ongoing process without looking like he was simply defending his own chances now.

    I didn't envy him that awkward position one bit.

    “The process is clear, we have two noted candidates nominated for future vote and-”

    “Bullshit!” Slit interrupted Grizzly.  “Look at the numbers!  Master Shackles has more than twice the nominations!  That's clear as glass!”

    It all fell into more and more argument.  Passive aggressive threats mixed with debates of logic and individual meanings of words.  It all dragged onto an almost pathetic level, a struggle for power where nopony was truly allowed to say what they honestly wanted to.  The whole idea of having to work that way made my head hurt. Leader and follower was all I'd really known until lately too.

    “They can-”

    Beep!

The signal cut.  Replaced instead by the familiar chirpy of my PipBuck.  Sitting up, I held it before me and eagerly leaned toward the screen.

    Beep!

Try as I might, the excitement of hearing him again went deep, even if it had interrupted the hearing.  Alone in the attic, I grasped the PipBuck and waited impatiently while staring at our combined cutie marks upon the device itself.

    Beep!

    Click.

“So...um...I, I really don't know what to say to begin this again.  After the last one, I just...I'm sorry if I scared anypony. I know it scared me.  Things have happened. Things have changed. I don't think my life is ever going to go back to the way it was.  Whether that's good or not I...I just don't know.”

    I could hear a roaring wind behind him.  Perhaps he'd gone somewhere alone and high to talk.  I'd certainly do the same. That's why I'd come up here.

    “See, they got me.  The Ministry of Morale.  I won't go over all the details but...I thought that was it.  That they'd memory strip me until I wasn't me anymore! They put me in a cell and I...I admit it, I just lay down and kept crying because I was afraid I wouldn't see anypony I knew again.  Nopony told me what was going on! Not until she came. Pinkie Pie herself...”

    His voice was still shaking.  It couldn't have been long after for him.

    “Sh-she came and told me not to worry.  That I'd been 'naughty' but that she wanted to help fix it all.  I just spilled, told her everything. Told her why I'd done it. That I'd been so worried and-and driven to my wits end by constant Stable drills and test megaspell sirens that I would do anything to get Sky a ticket!  Pinkie, she...she just hugged me and told me that she understood what it was like to go a little crazy when you were worried about losing your friends.”

    He stopped briefly.  Holding my ear close, I could hear him sniffling a little in the background.  The wind kept whipping around, stronger than before. Where even was he?

    “So she offered me a deal to make up for it.  To go into the zebras as a double agent. That she would provide me with some secret plans they'd long given up using to act as a way to smooth myself into them again.  I was to find out what was going on then get back to her. If I managed it, she'd get me a ticket for Sky. 'Better to do good for Equestria if you're that bouncy to help your luvy duvy marefriend out' she said.  She's right. I accepted.”

    Try as I might, I couldn't help but see something oddly familiar in this.  Just as he was to help Pinkie in her task to achieve what he wanted, I was now working with Protégé.  Pinkie had been right, he and I were pretty similar.

    “Well, long story short, it's worked.  The zebras found me within hours of me getting out.  I thought they might kill me, but the plans worked. I don't know what she did to make them believe I'd escaped, but whatever it was it worked.  They told me that I couldn't do it like before though. If I wanted to keep helping them it'd be as a worker in their plans. I...I've to go where I'm suspecting those missing Wartime Ministry workers are going, to do the same job.  They told me to wait here, outside the city and...and...”

    He stopped.  I heard him shuffling and looking around as the wind picked up again and blasted white noise into the recording.

    “They're taking me somewhere.  I don't know where. I've heard them talk about somewhere underground or a-a mountain or something.  I don't know which one they are taking me to. I don't know what they want me to do there. I...I'm scared...this is so out of my depth.  I just hope I get to see Sky again.”

    I clutched the PipBuck close. I couldn't comfort the past, but I sure anything could try my best.

    “Just go with them.  Do what they want. Find out what's going on, and then get back to the Ministry in a week's time when Pinkie returns to Filly.  Just one week. That's all I need to do. One week and all will be fine. One...week...”

    He went silent, then took a sudden breath.

    “I...I think they're coming.  I can hear them nearby. This is it.  I don't know why my life suddenly became important but...I'm going to try.  For Sky. W-wish me luck I guess? Here we go...”

    Click.

    “Good luck...” I half muttered to myself, clutching my hooves around my own body through just imagining the fear.  I'd been through scary things myself but I knew all too well how he felt.

    Settling back against a wooden beam, I sat with my head in my hooves, trying to make sense of it all.

    My friends had been thrown into the hellish pit of the metro, mining for Aurora's secrets.

    Protégé was alone at the centre of a desperate conspiracy net to try and prove his place.

    Shackles and Grindstone were making their moves for power.

    Pinkie Pie had revealed to me we were on the right track but that a veil of mystery had descended on our route out.

    Sundial was a potential guide on his own journey.  The plans of the zebras.

    I know the pieces.  I could see them moving across the game board.

    I just didn't know why or for what.

As I sat, all the little things started coming together in my mind.  All the things I'd heard. That I'd seen. There had to be some solution!  Something that told me what it all was! A growing urge within me to just know began to build.  I'd been in the dark too long!  What was it all?

    That urge became action.  I wasn't a cohesive thinker.  I wasn't somepony who could deduct and make educated guesses.

    But I could draw.

Surging to my hooves, I grabbed the wallpaper roll and tugged, drawing the massive sheet out across the attic floor.  The very ground would be my canvas! Digging for a charcoal stick, I let my mind drop into the past and of everything in Fillydelphia I now knew.  Beneath the dull light of the attic I scampered to and fro, adding lines here, curves there, shapes between them and letting it all emerge.

I drew everything, letting it all flow out.  I drew three zebras, then Sundial near them. I drew what I imagined Ministry Station would look like with its abandoned platforms.  I drew memory orbs, spell orbs, and the machine that I had seen in the Ministry of Arcane Science that let ponies see the past without being a unicorn.  I drew Magister Heartcare and his cult like ghouls of the zebra belief. I drew refugees looking lonely and scared as they were taken somewhere across the bottom of the canvas, a full six feet long.  I drew Wartime workers who had participated in Sundial's area, the ones he'd said had disappeared from arcane projects. I drew the lab in the Stable where they had been researching ponies learning things through memory orbs for education.

Lines...lines!  They were what mattered!  I was sweating with the effort, the movement to bound and jump from image to image haphazardly with no real order.  But only now did I circle and connect them all in a great spider web of elements drawn into one! A star shape...

I drew Pinkie Pie toward the side, making her mane as huge and poofy as it truly was.  Shackles and Grindstone went on the top left. I circled them and connected both to the Ministry Station.  They wanted it. That then connected to a new sketch of Aurora Star! Which in turn connected to the memory research!  Which went to the spell orbs!

    Again and again, even as I heard the hearing argue in the background over projects and authorities, I dared to simply ignore it and focus what I needed to.  Over and over the lines went, crossing and connecting! Beneath me, a huge floor of the past and future connecting unveiled!

    There it was...

    I fell back, exhausted and staggering.  Looking down and letting the charcoal fall from my mouth, I gazed upon my work.

A huge lattice of connected sketches, with the centre blank but for the dozens of lines that crossed over.  The one gap that connected everything. That which this was all about.

Memory research to help ponies learn, it had worked with spell orbs.  Aurora had wanted that, and had possibly even continued her research without being allowed to in the underground Ministry Station, and in some mountain range outside the city; Grindstone had mentioned that was hers!  The zebras had mentioned 'underground' and 'mountain' to Sundial. Those had to be the same places, so she had to be in league with them!  A traitor of the highest level!

Aurora Star had places to work and zebras who were bringing in refugees and skilled workers through bribery or threat. All together into...something. Something that Shackles and Grindstone now wanted.  Something they had protected so much as to make it a secret that not even Red Eye had found. A secret that would also hold a way out of this city for us, no matter what horrors lurked in there.

Pinkie had said Heartcare had been disappearing, too...he'd certainly been in league with zebras, based on his cult.  What if those ghouls with him were the refugees? Why had they all been so fanatical? Had he been allied to Shackles and Grindstone?  He had been preparing for a battle after all.

    My colossal drawing finally brought it all to reality though.  Find out what Aurora was doing, and you find the Ministry Station.

    Find the Ministry Station, and you find the way out of Fillydelphia.

    We could do this.  I'd said that line a hundred times the last few days.  Only now did I really begin to feel it.  Whatever she'd been doing was long dead.  Pinkie had said it wasn't as important as other things, so it likely wasn't a rogue megaspell or a huge hidden army or something.  Aurora Star was all about memory...something to do with memory...teaching zebras to fight better?

    I would follow Protégé.  He would want to find this out to stop Shackles.  We would want to find this out to escape.

    I just hoped he’d understand and not try to stand in our way at the last moment...

    “The nominations are final!  That is enough, Slit and Wormtail!” Grizzly voice came through so hard my PipBuck crackled with static and shook my mind from its thoughts.  “As demanded by Red Eye we shall hear from both the nominations and end this hearing until a future vote is organised with Red Eye's own authorisation and acknowledgement!  Chainlink Shackles, would you care to start?”

The hairs on my neck bristled as I heard the clanking and stomping in the background of the signal.  Whoever was holding the broadcast equipment clearly had to move quickly.

    “We can see where the opinion of Fillydelphia lies.”

    Warped by the bad quality, his voice sounded more rough and unsettled than ever.  I could hear him having to wheeze between sentences, a lingering hurt.

    “We can see where those have cast their feelings.  Fillydelphia is a strong city, the one that truly rose upon the backs of hard work and proper authority.  Power shifts...power changes...but always there is master and slave.”

    I wondered if Red Eye was listening to this.  He knew what Shackles had been before. He deposed him in the first place, after all.  I had always wondered why Shackles hadn't reacted worse to that.

    “Out there, we build.  We grow. We lead. We rise above.  You all in here know that in the future, when our dear leader and his second eventually are brought low by time as always happens, Fillydelphia will still need its master.  The wasteland can bring anybody to their knees. Remove anybody from life. Would you have somepony who does not understand the history of this city taken to authority?”

    A loud cry from the ranks of those involved forced the signal into static.  Shackles was brutal and at times even incredibly thin natured, but he wasn't stupid.  He knew what to say.

    “Fillydelphia grew on power and strength to hold those slaves into their work!  You know who would offer this! You know who has done this!  You know who is master!”

    How could Red Eye know he was here and not stop this?  Shackles would undo much of what he tried!

    “Fillydelphia can rise further.  A superpower of the wastes, one who is not restricted.  Red Eye's vision is clear to us all. To create through sacrifice.  Oh...I agree.”

    Like hell you did!  I heard the stomping of hooves as he stepped down.  Were they voting out of alliance or out of fear? How many other slavers had been threatened like List Seeker?  Protégé had to talk to Red Eye soon. This had to stop!

    “That is our first nomination, Chainlink Shackles.  Bear in mind, this is for Stern's successor. So think to your future, those assembled.  Hear both before deciding and-”

    “Are you biased, Old Grizzly?” Grindstone's voice cut in, leading to another retort and gradual argument.  Struggling to hear, I pressed my ear to the PipBuck, sitting atop my massive drawing.

    “I am...kzzzztch...ot biased here.  This is a mere reminder that others may have alternative elements to-kzzzzztch-”

    The PipBuck’s sound warped.

    “Kzztch!  Dirk? Dirk?  You there?”

    My eyes widened.  That was the Shades!  The broadcast lingered off, changing back to Grizzly.

    “Kzzztch-please come to the stand for his opposing message to the assembled slavers of Fillydelphia.  Protégé, if you woul-kzzzztch”

    Another drop!

    “Kzztch-here, mate.  Don't worry, it's all done.  Seems somepony fucked with the votes, he got in by one single fucking slip.  Plan B's all ready though.”

    “Kzzzz-you, Grizzly.  To those who nominated me.” Protégé's voice, before it dropped right back to Dirk again.

    “Come and give us a hand if we need it in the escape afterwards.  This is going to be public.”

    “Really?”

“R-kzzzztch-lly.  They still think it's just Barb fucking with Protégé from the grave.  They ain't wrong, either. Means we can get away with it. Little fucker's going down the moment he finishes that speech, right in front of everypony.  Dramatic, right? Same way they fucked Barb before us. Shades don't forgive.”

    My hooves trembled on the floor.  Around me I saw Shackles and Grindstone drawn with circles surrounding them connected to the mountain and Ministry Station.  Connected to a sketch of Protégé I'd done. One that settled right below the image of my friends...one that was connected to Ministry Station itself as an escape...

They had been waiting to make their move.  To destroy him just as he tried to change Fillydelphia.  To prove him wrong that ponies weren't better.

    “Kzzzztch-let's go.  Grab the rifle with the E.F.S sight Mosin left us as you come and-kazzztch!”

    Protégé’s voice took over the signal.

    “This shall not be a speech for the attempt of changing the minds of those who support slavery at its core.  This is a message to those who are, within Fillydelphia, the leaders. Those at their heart whom are not slavers.  A message that shall, as my chance to speak to you all, bring with it the crux of my belief. The record that should hopefully remain in those very minds even if I were to fade away.  The record that Fillydelphia is not just a place. It is potential. One that we can shape, for good or ill.”

    No!  They were going to outright assassinate him!  I paced on the spot and in circled, treading on my massive work.  Ragini was out there somewhere...she...she was meant to stop it! But I didn't know where she would be!  I didn't have my friends. I...I couldn't fight Shades alone!

    What could I do?  I was just one little sla...

    “A potential that stretches longer than all of our wills here today. A potential born of sacrifice and generosity not just of the body, but of our individual wishes to create a greater shared dream. To give up, that others may have.”

    No. Little, maybe.  Afraid, certainly. Helpless? 

No I wasn’t. Not now.

I turned, grabbing everything I owned along with stopping to throw something else that had been left behind into my saddlebag.  My saddle wrapped around me as I spun and wriggled into it. I had to do this. Nopony else was going to stop it! Buckling my PipBuck back on, I turned and galloped for the door, leaving the entire star shape of threads and imagery behind me.

    Down the stairs.  Across the office.  Out onto the catwalk.

    “I dream of Master Red Eye's vision.  We all know it, like this world, isn't perfect.  But we could do so much more if we were to put these arguments and this greed behind us, to finally let us change this ethos. What could Fillydelphia achieve then? On this very single day I have met those who would help others, at their own risk, because they believed it right. On this day, I have met those who would put their own life on the line to help protect a future. Yet on this very day I have seen the shadows that seek to strike and draw us back into the wasteland. What could we make without them there?”

    I clattered down the gantry, drawing stunned looks from those around me.  Almost falling, panting, and desperation lit in my eyes, I galloped for the exit!  Slaves stopped and watched as I leapt carts and ducked below empty shelving. Careening outside, I swung to charge toward the FunBarn, passing the Alpha-Omega Hotel on the right.

    “Look to the foals we care for. That we protect and so nurture to make them into a greater generation than us.  They move on, they improve who they are, despite the hurt. Yes, they are not without hurt; they have each been taken from their parents.  Parents I have seen suffer. Yet they make friends. They smile. They push themselves to be better.”

    The mud clung to me that I bounded and hampered through.  Looking around, I tried to watch for any Shades. None appeared, but the back of the FunBarn was coated in deep shadow.  How was I even to get into it? They had it locked down! The Shades were likely already inside!

    “If they, a generation of children, can improve and change, why not us in turn by their brave little example?  Why can we not change for the better and move past the black history that stains this city and forces our hands to be partnered to brutality?”

    I saw guards at the entrances.  They stood with readied battle saddles.  All around the sky above I saw griffons patrolling.  There wasn't a way! How could...how could I...

My eyes found the way I'd left before.  The very same unrepaired hole that my grapplehook had been found in before!  Sprinting forward, I heard a guard shout and give chase. Above, at least one griffon swivelled to drop.  There was no way to hide and still keep moving, so I simply galloped for it in plain sight!

    “Look around you all.  How many of you have been coerced into how you feel?  How many simply see no way out? How many of us are but slaves to our own slavery?  When we creep in shadows and carefully lock our doors out of fear of one another, what have we become?  Do you not wish for something better in the end? Something to let us stop being the monsters? When I look into the eyes of those who are simply afraid to try...I recognise the way they look back at me.  I feel the same way...”

    Slipping down the slope into the grounds of the FunBarn, I swerved and rolled underneath a slaver's charging tackle.  Springing to my hooves, ignoring the pain in my neck, I pointed my grapple gun upwards and flexed my leg. Blunderbuck's aim pointer swung out with the mouthpiece and I laid it upon the hole near the top floors.  With a deep bite, I fired and swung up to the wall. Grasping for purchase, I hurriedly began climbing vertically away from them with my hooves against the sheer wooden face of the tall building, almost like I were running very unsteadily upwards.

    “Yet, I have been shown that we are the cowards here.  The ones afraid to stand up. For I have seen even the weakest of ponies show a strength that anypony amongst us has lacked.  One that comes not from power or ability but from somewhere deep down that we in this bleak world have forgotten. A will to endlessly strive and above all...hope.  A pony who is more than he will ever realise.”

    Gunshots slammed into the wood beside me.  Shrieking at the splinters firing into me and the growing pains on my recovering body, I tried to sway and bounce side to side as I neared the hole above!  Throwing my front hooves up, I dragged myself in and retracted the hook. Under fire, I rushed into the FunBarn. I was in!

    “If a slave we have battered into the ground can look to himself and be more than he ever was...where has that left us?  Is it not us with the power that have fallen behind Master Red Eye's dream? Who have failed to do as he would wish? We are the monsters.  The ones who sit idle while those we teach and those who serve us have shown us what being a pony means.”

    “Hey you!  Stop!” A guard shouted at me as his hooves wrapped around me.

I had no time to argue with the slaver who grabbed me.  My back hoof lashed out hard and he went rather silent, collapsing against the wall trying to scream with an open mouth for somepony else to stop me as I galloped on!  Skidding around a corner, I passed through the medical bay and headed into the offices we'd been in before! I could hear the griffons behind me coming in through the hole I'd entered.

    “Intruder in the FunBarn!  Fan out! Stop him! He's got a saddlebag loaded up with something!”

    I was trying to save somepony! Leaping down the stairs, I yelped and fell to the side, against the wall.  Dazed, I looked up to see the main terminal hall before me. Not far!

    “Thus, to end this...I will ask one thing of you all.  Is there not a better way than these shadows and fear beneath the lashes?  Master Red Eye would if he could, so I merely ask...is such a dream is truly outwith our power?”

    He was finishing!  No!

I reared up, firing my grapple above me to hit the old lighting systems above the slaves clattering on keyboards.  Clenching my teeth on the trigger, I leapt from the stairs and swung over the terminal floor entirely, shocking many of the slavers so much they just stared.

Yet even as I dropped and hit the floor, they were on me.  Three slavers rushed me and piled atop. I squirmed and I fought.  I bit, I used the hooks of my hook and my legs bucked out. I'd never beat them, but the little jabbing attacks bought me room to wriggle free.  Reaching into my saddlebag, I threw the bag of nails I'd stolen earlier behind me and ran on. An old trick, but it gave me just a space I needed!

    The doors were ahead!

    “I leave this decision to you all now.  Thank you.”

    There wasn't much applause or stomping, perhaps only one of two wary ones.  Ahead of me I saw the doors! I felt a wound open somewhere below a bandage, and felt my throat choking up and drawing air away from me.  My vision blurred from exhaustion. I leapt forward, crashing through the doors.
   
Dozens of heads turned to me, not in the least Protégé from the stage.  I didn't even hesitate, sighting with my eyepiece and biting down hard on the trigger again.

    The hook rocketed out, the compressed air blowing my tired body from it's hooves.

It made a much louder sound than normal, so loud my ears rung and ached and forced me to close my eyes and shrink to the ground.  The echo of a huge calibre round set off in close quarters somewhere above us all in the rafters.

Ponies leapt to their feet, crying out and swarming for the doors.  Crowds kicked up, those not used to combat rushing away while others drew weapons and backed off more carefully.  They rushed past me, almost keeping me from pressing through to...to...

    ...to see.

    Upon the stage, I saw Protégé simply lying on his side.

Behind him, Old Grizzly pulled a confused guard's rifle from him, and unleashed the full magazine into the rafters.  I heard the sound of something metal dropping up there, before being bowled over by Wormtail sprinting with a panicked look oni his face.  Grizzly reloaded, spraying fire into the assassin’s area, while I sprinted to Protégé.

    I heard him groan in pain, before stirring and sitting up.

The relief that came through me as I saw him mostly unhurt but for a bleeding wound on his cheek where my grapple hook had struck his face and knocked him out of the line of fire.

    “Murk?  What are...I just...”

    He was dazed, confused.

    “Get out of the room!” Old Grizzly screamed at us, firing again before being tossed backward into the table, a rifle round spearing into his shoulder.  Other guards were joining as they got past the surging crowds.

Keeping low, I grabbed Protégé and helped support him as we ducked behind Grizzly's seat and away to the side.  Protégé recovered quickly from the stunning blow, outstripping me as we got out of the courtroom and into a small preparation room that the judge had likely used in times gone past.  Even so, behind us the fighting died down. I heard Grizzly say something about them slipping away.

    I turned back to Protégé, finding him sitting loading his revolver.

    “I...I heard them on the radio, saying they were going to-”

“I can gather.  Now come on. Those Shades will just try again in a less dramatic way next time, I don't intend to give them the chance.”

He bucked open a door leading to a very thin set of stairs, the age old Fillydelphia style for staff that I'd seen in the orphanage.  A couple of smaller bucks had no trouble as we raced up them toward, I presumed, the rafters.

    “I should say, thank you, Murk!  It seems you've helped ensure my life's continuation once again.”

    Long way to say it.  “I...uh...I couldn't just wait there...”

    “I appreciate it.  Now let's end Barb’s last attack from the grave.”

The door ahead of us burst open toward the rafters.  Immediately somepony swore and fired a rifle. Those below us took cover at the new sounds from above.  Galloping right out onto the thin rafter walkways, Protégé fired back into the darkness. Blinking, I tried to let my eyes watch for dancing shadows, but instead saw the door at the opposite end open and close.

    “They've run away!”

“Come on!” Protégé didn't wait for me to reply, charging out across the rafters himself, shouting for them to hold fire below and to seal off the main exits.  I followed still, as we crashed through the door after the Shade.

    “Kzzzztch-after me, Dirk!  He's got that fucking E.F.S!”

    “Get down to the maintenance chambers!  They're empty!”

    “The maintenance chambers, Protégé!” I almost felt proud at my PipBuck doing its job still and them not figuring it out yet from their radios.  Ahead of me, I saw him swerve down the next set of stairs. The Shade was fast ahead of us, long gone, but we knew where he was going.

    Both of us arrived into the maintenance area at once, and immediately dove for cover.

We had been chasing them well, but they were the ones who thought to lay an ambush.  Shotgun shells and pistol rounds flew across the open workshop toward us! Outside, I could see Fillydelphia itself through a large open door.  Had all the guards run inside to secure it? Where were the outside ones?

Hugging behind a thick metal workbench, I finally got a chance to see the area.  We were both on a raised section of benches and tool cupboards, but the fire was coming from behind crates in a lower garage like portion near two wagons near the exit.  A silenced weapon cracked alongside the throaty roar of the shotgun from earlier today.

Protégé was in that age old problem.  He only had one gun against their two and maybe even three.  He could hardly outflank them. Already, I could hear somepony moving to the side, seeking to get around us.  The thought of one advancing and mercilessly firing with no way to hide was sickeningly haunting.

    Thankfully, Protégé was not going to wait for that.

Looking above them, he aimed to the roof and fired twice.  An already wrecked air duct pinged free from its rusted housings, dropping directly on top of their position.  Under a deafening crash it obliterated the crate they hid behind and forced two blurry shapes out in the open.

    Protégé was waiting.

Charging out, he galloped forward and shot at the first as they landed from their dodge.  The shots went wide or warped around the frantically blurring and shifting shadow magic user.  The tell tale click sounded. Protégé was out of rounds!

    “Game over, colt cuddler!”

    “Really?”

    I only saw his horn glow for a second from my hiding spot, before screaming myself as a deafening bang assaulted my ears and drove me into blindness from a flare of white light.  Falling to the ground, I held my ears and whimpered as my eyes blinked away the assault of my senses. I heard the raiders screaming too, before one cried aloud when I heard Protégé reload and fire once again.

Still dazed, I could see him and the second raider exchanging new fire. The Shade struggling to see clearly just as I was.  The sound of padding hooves came from my right, and I ran forward to avoid being caught out. Sticking to the far side of the room, I dove in beside Protégé again, screaming as rounds from the Shade that had flanked behind us opened fire from the shadows.

    “Are you all right!?” Protégé dragged me into cover, hearing me shouting.

“I...I'm...not shot...” Why had I come into this firefight?  “I...I didn't know you could do a spell like that!”

“Stun Flare spell.  You get a lot of time to read when you're in bed for as long as I was...” He tried to grin a little, but it was still tinged with worry.  We'd really bitten off more than we could chew here.  At least two other Shades were creeping around our cover and I knew Protégé had to be running low on ammo after the chase this morning as well.

“I was rather hoping the guards would have caught up by now. Can't help but feel Shackles is up to something again,” Protégé muttered, firing off a shot to drive one moving shadow back into cover.

    “I...I can help...I think...”

“Right now, Murk...I don't think you have a choice.  They won't let us run. I saw one of them carrying an E.F.S scope though, you can't sneak around them.”

“Um...yes I can.” I opened my saddlebag, revealing the little E.F.S blocker device I'd lifted from the attic.  Nervously grinning, I nodded. I'd try to help.

    “Good thinking, just don't try to run out of cover.”

He was right.  If we tried to flee, they'd only gun us down as we went.  I'd have to play my part here. Willing myself to stay strong, I took comfort in knowing that Sundial managed to do it, I could too.

    “All right...”

I took a breath, looked up to gauge where they were and slipped back under the raised section. I started creeping into a small trench that was obviously once used to repair rollercoaster cars from below and made my way across the floor.  If I could get behind them, maybe I could cause enough of a distraction or make them get out of cover so Protégé could end it!

Unfortunately, it seemed they were even more intent to close down on Protégé than before.  Above me, I heard their hooves tapping lightly on the ground moving forward. They weren't Barb...I could out hear them.  Maybe even out sneak one!

Creeping around their position, I watched the pair of them firing at the increasingly devastated cover Protégé kept himself behind.  Just a pity I didn't have Rarity's Grace with me.

    “Go, Dirk!  He's pinned, you've got time!”

One of the Shades rushed out of cover.  I could hear Protégé struggling to reload his revolver in time!  Only six rounds was a huge disadvantage compared to the weapons they had!  Dirk galloped forward, that shotgun raised to point over and try to kill Protégé!

Biting hard on my mouthpiece, the grapple hook shot across the ground in front of Dirk.  Swearing loudly, the raider tripped over it, slamming into the ground. Protégé leapt up, his revolver pumping shots into the stricken Shade, who only had time for one howl of pain before the third shot slapped into his face and sprayed me with red droplets.  Squirming away from the mess, I almost fell into the trench as my grapple hook ground its way across the floor to retract.

    Then it stopped.

Looking up, I saw the third and final Shade had stepped on it, holding the wire taunt and stopping it retracting while his magic aimed the silenced pistol toward Protégé.

    “Too eager, study boy.  You're good, but you're not that good.”

    I started forward, maybe I could-

The pistol swung and pointed at me for just a second enough to make me stop, before catching Protégé again as he made to re-aim his own weapon.

“Ah...ah...aaaah...you've killed enough of us now, colt cuddler.  You harmed us, harmed our leader. Now you're going to die screaming, lacking all that pride you like to think you have.”

    “Oh yes.  That you are.”

The female voice came from above, before a much larger shape dropped directly down onto the Shade.  I saw feathers fly and talons glint in the dull light as Ragini landed right on top of him. A squelch of punctured flesh popped into my ears.

    “You and your little gang, I've been trying to track you down all afternoon!”

    “Fuck you, bird!”

Ragini twisted, her claws on those hind legs digging in.  I could see she was holding him down by the neck, one of her hind legs pressing right down upon it while her talons grasped her hard shot rifle.

    “Fuck you, raider!  You took my wings!  Stripped me of flying with my brothers and sisters forever!”

    “Ergh...and ain't we proud to hear it fucking hurts, huh?  Argh!”

    The butt of her gun struck his forehead.

    “Oh, you get to hear me say that because I want you to know it!”

    “Go on, fucking kill me then!”

    “No.”

Beside me, Protégé trotted across rather breathlessly and nursing a small wound to his front leg.  His neck bandages seemed to be bleeding too. The two of us were a wreck, really.

    “Ragini,” he spoke, “just end it.”

    “He doesn't fucking deserve a simple death!”

Below her leg pinning him, I could see the Shade's magic flaring and bubbling over his outline, clearly trying to build up power for a blink spell again.

“You think your magic will save you?  That's all you have going for you, you cowards!  I'll bet those spells are pretty much permanent when you activate them, a part of you!  Something that matters more than anything, something to let you weaklings sneak and steal. Ever wonder what happens if that were to be stripped from you?”

Her rifle barrel shifted upwards away from between the Shade's dark eyes.  I saw his gang like pride beginning to waver. It was pointing at his horn.

    “You want to feel the pain you put me in?  To know you'll never be able to do it again?”

    “N-no!  KILL ME!  JUST KILL ME YOU WINGLESS COWARD!”

    Her rifle cracked.

    Never...never in my life...had I heard a pony scream in that way.  I actually felt faint, staggering to the side to throw up and cover my ears.  I heard a static spark of magic, like whenever Coral's failed. Only this was sharper and more painful, like a conduit overloading.  I heard somepony wriggling in agony. The sound he made...

    “Ragini!” Protégé grimaced moving up behind her.  “End this! This isn't how we work!”

    “It isn't how you work!  An eye for an eye with the Talons!  He can bleed to death through that capillary and trauma in his horn for what he did to me!”

She had spun off the Shade, who rolled, squealing on the ground and trying to hold his hooves over a malfunctioning, shattered and bleeding horn that I couldn't even see...nor wanted to.  Ragini stood with her talons balled up into fists between him and Protégé.

“Revenge is revenge.  It isn't pretty, but that's how it just fucking works!  He's getting what he deserves, I saw him laughing at me when that hammer fell!  Just leave him.”

Ragini walked past Protégé.  I watched her go, with a grim look on her face.  She didn't look satisfied, just black and void of emotion.

A few seconds after, I heard Protégé's revolver fire, and finally the screams silenced.  She spun, facing him eye to eye. They said nothing for a few seconds, but I could see the conflict there.  Her revenge against his morals.

    “I watched you kill a pony in cold blood for betraying somepony you care about, sir.”

    “I wasn't causing them suffering for savage revenge, Ragini.”

    “He was unarmed.  So what makes you any better than what you preach?”

    “Because now I believe we can all do better than the mistakes we've made!” Protégé bit back, leaning toward her.  “I am not the same pony I was then!!”

“You're just falling back into that naïve little shell of a pony you once were, only with power to actually think you can make a difference now.”

    Protégé’s glare was like ice. “That your professional opinion to your charge?”

    Ragini, however, was flippant. “Just the one that watches you make enemies with fancy speeches that then try to kill you.”

    A third voice broke in.

    “Only because Protégé is more of an idealist to the ideals I taught him than I think he truly knows.”

The arguing pair fell silent, as did my own thoughts.  I'd hung by the wayside, not party to this debate of position and test of trust beyond contract.  The voice came from behind me, from outside the FunBarn's main exit with an easy grace and dominant power within it.

I turned with the others and saw him simply standing there as though it was nothing in the world.  Red Eye angled his head as though in slight greeting before trotting into the maintenance area. Yet even as I watched him, his movements seemed a little more sluggish than normal.  I could see a heavy darkness under his one organic eye.

“I highly encourage debate amongst my leaders, but I must say this has been a rather extreme set of circumstances...” Red Eye almost seemed to smirk at the whole situation as he carefully trotted around one of the Shade's corpses from earlier.  “I had hoped this would resolve itself without my needing to be here. My my...”

Ragini backed off, falling silent and bowing her head with a talon clenched over the same symbol on her armour.  I simply stood shivering, and trying not to attract his gaze. Where had he even come from? By his side I could see that cybernetic canine, Winter, prowling around and glaring at me as though I were some sort of squeak toy.

    Protégé meanwhile, quickly cantered forward on shaking legs.

    “Master Red Eye!  I have much to tell you!  If you would give me one hour to discuss with you and-”

Red Eye held up a hoof.  “There is much work to be done, my dear student.  Unity nears and my presence is required soon. I cannot stop for matters, I am afraid.  Not even for sleep...”

He bid us forward, moving out of the bay and away from the corpses.  Upon a bandstand of the FunFarm next to the barn he stopped and sat upon one of the older wooden benches.  Then he did something I never thought I would see in the authoritative figure that controlled this city and my life.

He sighed and held his head in one hoof, rubbing his eye with weariness.  Sitting down across from him, I saw Protégé move forward in concern.

“I am tired, Protégé.” Red Eye lifted his head back up, smiling to his student.  “It's been three days since I have last slept and yet there is more to do before I can truly rest.  The wasteland is changing and I must move with it, lest we fall behind and be caught unprepared. It had been my hope this election might conduct itself independently but I would imagine there is more to this than simply the revenge of raiders.  Tell me quickly, what happened?”

Protégé looked ready to say a dozen words at once, but gradually caught his breath, stood before his master and spoke at length of the Mall and of the things I had passed on to him.

“However, Master, it is more than a simple petty squabble.  They have been seeking to acquire secrets from the past. Murk here has confirmed this to me from eavesdropping on their meetings.  Aurora Star's work, from the Ministry? They seek her underground station and her mountain retreat. The Shades were working for them to attempt to ensure Shackles has power!”

Red Eye listened carefully as Protégé told him more of what had happened in greater detail.  I couldn't help but notice Ragini had slunk off during the talk. I sat nearby on the bench, trying to edge further away from Winter who seemed intent on nuzzling my side curiously.  I hated dogs.

“I can see that they clearly are.” Red Eye nodded, turning to me and beckoning me forward with a lazily waved hoof.  I simply hopped up and trotted forward to find him looking at the E.F.S blocker sticking out of my saddlebag.

“This sort of technology is not common, indeed we only have one in Fillydelphia left in Grindstone's care within that Ministry, and it is non-functional.  This is indeed proof they are harvesting things already more advanced than what we know we have. I can't say I didn't expect this eventually from Chainlink Shackles, but he could not have picked a worse time.  Better the devil you know, they say. Keep your enemies close. It has worked until now.”

“Then we must throw him down from his rank, Master!” Protégé knocked his hooves together.  “Fillydelphia must be rearranged to remove their betrayal! If they got this device working then they must have found something! Murk has spoken of them uncovering artefacts in the metro and-”

    “No.”

The look on Protégé's face was the picture perfect form of astonishment.  Red Eye grunted and rose to his hooves again. It was so strange seeing him anything less than perfectly formed.

“The Enclave draw near, my student.  Unity approaches and I need Fillydelphia strong, not split in civil wars of loyalties.  We cannot risk a schism at this point, or the Enclave will destroy Fillydelphia and the very industry we tried to create!  I have known of this divide between idealism and power for some time”

“But what about their efforts, Master?  We can't just let them go with nothing! The technology they find might shift the balance and-”

“I understand, Protégé. If they feel they have enough power from whatever they find then they might attempt their own coup upon Stern.  I cannot have that, the wasteland cannot have that.”

Protégé gulped, licking his lips to try and get some momentum going after that surprise task.

“Indeed, we can’t. Aurora Star has some projects that were important enough that they were taken into a Stable and protected even against its inhabitants, Master.  Murk has confirmed this. If they were to use this in some sort of arms race for power...it would undo what Fillydelphia has become.”

“Yes, it would.” Red Eye nodded, an odd look in his eyes.  Far off and pained. He had seen what Filly was before his changes. “This is awkward timing.  We cannot face them directly for fear of a schism, yet we must face them in the shadows to prevent one.”

“Then you must help end this, Master! It threatens everything you’ve done, for all the hurt its brought, if it comes to nothing because of them, all the suffering for nothing? You will do something now we have proof?”

Red Eye looked up from resting his head on his hoof.

“Oh...I'm not going to do anything.” He smiled.  “Because that's what I want you to do. I can trust you, my faithful student.  You must go forth. Strive to seek them out, to find what they search for and never to yield to them. After all, you already have a companion to be proud of, with dear Murky here.  I give you my blessing for this, Protégé. Do this quietly.”

    I felt myself oddly blush at a compliment from Red Eye himself as he looked across. Protégé, however, was stunned. Taking off his eyepiece, he stared in abject shock.

    “Me?”

“If they go to the mountains then you must go there too.  Find whatever secrets lie there and bring them home to Stern.  I have every faith in you, Protégé. This is, in a way, what I have taught you to eventually do. To be my extension. To be somepony I trust the opinion and morals of.”

    He smirked.

    “In a way, this is an appropriate journey to mark what I’d always hoped for you. To hope that you become the successor behind Stern for this city. The foals need somepony young to lead them.”

    Protégé was agape. His mouth was hung slightly open, with wide eyes. Yet even amongst the sheer pride and astonishment in his eyes, something clearly came to his mind first.

    “Then you're not coming, Master? You speak like you are not to return...”

Red Eye hesitated, then slowly shook his head.  Overhead, I heard several alicorns before they gracefully landed alongside a griffon pulled chariot off the side of the bandstand.  Slavers piling into the area to secure it after the event were giving us all a very wide berth.

“I depart Fillydelphia for the Cathedral and Unity this very hour.  Protégé...one way or the other, I shall not be returning as I am now.  It...it does fill me with regret that this is likely the last I shall see of you in this time.”

    Protégé couldn't quite hide the crushing feeling on his face.  “I...I knew it was soon, but...”

“Do not fear.  You have been every inch the student I could have wished for since that day I helped pull you from the muddy pits of slavery.  It has been a worthy pleasure to watch you grow, learn, and become the stallion you are today. Look forward with pride.”

“Th...thank you, Master...” Protégé was clearly having to struggle a little, I knew he saw Red Eye as a father more than a leader in many ways.  To him this was a parent leaving. He trotted behind Red Eye on his way to the chariot, as though trying to lengthen the time spent with him. Somehow, I couldn't shake the feeling of how I was taken from my mother in my head.

“Remember our dream, Protégé. Follow it. You aren't the student any more. Go forth as who you are and what I have taught you to believe in. Unity, and a new Equestria.”

    “A new world for all of us.  I will, Master. I will...”

    “Good luck, then.  And goodbye.”

The griffons took the command from a sharp rap on the chariots edge.  The intimidating alicorns beat their wings, rising up alongside it. Protégé stood watching his master disappear into the sky, disappearing to lands beyond across the wastes.

    He stood there for some time.

    Eventually, I approached him.

    “P-Protégé?”

    “I am...al...alright, Murk...”

He didn't sound it.  I saw him have to wipe his eyes before turning.  Respectfully, I avoided looking directly to his face.  Just because people were used to seeing me do it didn't mean I had to make it seem so in return.

    “If we'd had but one more day.  How I wish we did. Yet Master Red Eye has trusted me to do this in his absence.  For him.”

He turned and looked out over Fillydelphia, toward the mountain ranges that could be seen over the hill.  They rose up, peaked with oddly glistening snow with some even going past the clouds...

“I cannot do this alone, Murk.  These days, I know few ponies I can trust, and fewer still who would follow.  My foes have sworn guards, multiple masters, an armoury, and official backing with an expedition to those mountains.  What have I? A few rounds left for my revolver and an E.F.S eyepiece...”

    Gulping, I stepped forward.  “Y-you have me...”

Protégé actually smirked.  “Of course. I knew I could count on you, but we may need a larger group than just us two to go against them, Murk.”

    I bit my lip, before thinking and biting my lip.

    “Well...um...there are some who would follow us.  My friends...”

    I saw the smile spread across his face.

    “You know where they are?”

    “Yes...in the metro.  Down where, um, they're trying to find the Station.”

    Protégé nodded slowly, then clapped my back gently.

“Then let us creaky injured bucks go get a few healing potions, a few hours recovery and something to eat at last.  After that...”

He glanced out over Fillydelphia, seeing the lines of Masters and Overseers trotting out.  I could see those recognisable figures within leading their supporting mass away.

“...we're going back into the shadows.  If I have to break free workers to help stop him I will.  I will not break this trust in me. We're going to rescue your friends, Murk.”

He smiled and turned to canter at speed back to the logistics hub.  I followed, casting only a brief glance back to those slavers again and seeing the back of Shackles' head moving toward the metro.

    Just hold on down there, my friends.  We're coming!

    Footnote – Perk Attained!

    Low Hoof (Rank 2!) – Just when they thought it couldn't get worse, you're turning a nasty little cheap shot into an acquired skill that you actively turn to and try to be good at with an idea on precisely where to strike hard.  Instead of stunning, your chance to critical hit will now paralyse the target for a brief time.  Ouch!