//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11 - A Slave to Time (Part 2) 
// Story: Fallout: Equestria - Just Like Clockwork 
// by Starlight_Tinker 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 11 – A Slave to Time (Part 2)
"Are you sayin' my mouth is makin' promises my legs can't keep!?"






A long time ago, in the magical land of Equestria...



Tears trickled slowly down my face as the sky carriage glided serenely above the clouds, the beauty of the sunrise slowly unwrapping itself in my mind, colouring my every thought and perception with a warm, mystic glow.  

We were making good time towards Edinbuck, our transit having been aided by the impressive efficiency of the pegasi skyways.  In under ten minutes we had swooped over the central region of Trottingham, taking an entire lane for ourselves and exceeding many a speed limit in the process.  The sky carriage apparently also doubled as an escort vehicle, its flight enchantments granting it a significant speed advantage over the other craft in the sky (I was pretty sure it could also take a bomb blast without so much as a paint chip - its structural spells alone were enough to make my horn vibrate).

After a short while, during which we very nearly broke the sound barrier with our haste, we began our descent towards Edinbuck, heralded by a sudden burst of sound and licks of red and blue that erupted from secreted siren and light talismans around the sky carriage's periphery.  The craft cleanly carved a priority path down through the skyway, parting the streams of travellers and other vehicles in the lanes below us.  The pitch of our approach was excessively steep - even for military pilots - and as I focused on keeping my balance in the back of the carriage, I felt a weight wrap itself around my waist.  Red Heart had toppled toward me upon our sudden drop, instinctively reaching out for support.  I looked down into her eyes as my own began to water from the shear speed of the wind sweeping past us.  What I saw staring back at me was surprising, to say the least.  There, in her tiny black pupils, was a pure and lonely neediness, unmasked for a split second by the shock of our sudden aerial manoeuvre.  Redheart caught herself quickly as our gazes met, and I looked away as soon as I could, my brow furrowed in thought as she regained her balance.

She was faking, I realised emptily, and had been all this time.  All of her strength and her bravado was but a shield, allowing her to cope with the world crumbling slowly around her.  I cursed myself for not seeing (or even considering) it earlier.  Even with all the horrors that the war was bringing out in ordinary ponies - ponies who would have lived their lives in peace and harmony at any other time - I hadn't for a moment thought of how it had affected Redheart.  With a deeply unpleasant rumbling in my gut, I realised that she was, simply put, afraid; deeply and truly terrified of what was about to happen to her homeland.  And I had just promised to tell her everything...

The enormity of my commitment played on my thoughts, even as the ground came into view and the carriage levelled out to a glide.  The ancient architectural beauty of Edinbuck's royal castle was the first sight to greet us, and I was afforded just enough time to marvel sadly at how far our race had fallen.  Banners of silver and blue bearing Luna's crest hung proudly from the battlements, and a thousand tiny ribbons of white smoke wafted up from the many buildings on the slope below.  Edinbuck was a model city; a metropolis of industry and endeavour, teeming with life and optimistic wartime spirit on the dawn of a new day.  I imagined breads being baked and newspapers being read, the taste of concentrated orange juice and the sizzle of powdered egg rations cooking in a pan.  All those wonderful, simple little rituals - both basic and amazing all at the same time - were being lived out by the masses, right under my hooves.  

A pang a sadness found purchase in my heart as I realised that the dawn of the Last Day wouldn't be - or rather, hadn't been - any different.  Ponies going to and fro, busying themselves with the work of the day and tending to relationships as though they were flower beds, all the while oblivious to the coming doom.  

They would have woken and risen as usual, I mused.  Some beside their significant other, some on their own.  They would have eaten breakfast, but only after facing the age old dilemma of what to spread on their toast.  Then they would have trotted, or perhaps taken a ride on a sky carriage, to work, indulging in that wonderful little temporal limbo between getting there and actually starting the workday.  They would take a break at about eleven o'clock - a discussion around a water cooler, mugs of tea and coffee behind a depot, a perusal of a dog-eared paperback at a staff room table.  Thoughts would move to lunch ('The daisy sandwich or the vege-plate?') as the cups of Equestria emptied and the day’s work continued.  I thought of them sitting back at their desks, or returning to their storefronts, or starting their machines back up.  Just in time to look out of the nearest window and see a light brighter than the sun suddenly flare, raging into being.  Mighty booms would obliterate the lucky and deafen those unfortunate enough to remain.  The air would sizzle and a thousand million tiny pinpricks would dance across the skin of the outliers, heralding with a tickle the lethal, penetrating morbidity of radiation.  Blood would flow like water from wounds and throats alike as squishy, pastel coloured flesh was consumed and liquidised by the monster of war; lives - whole lives - would be utterly and totally demolished in a matter of seconds, messily wiped from existence like chalk dust from a blackboard.

I forced my eyes to close to the magnificence of the city below for I knew that, all too soon, everything would change.





I allowed myself to see again when the carriage suddenly shuddered, our forward momentum quickly dissipating into the Earth below.  We had touched down some way away from Edinbuck itself, landing in an understated (and decidedly boring) parking area to the rear of the Edinbuck StableTec building.  I wondered for a moment why there were no windows on this side of the structure, and why the area was deliberately obscured by thick, neatly trimmed ornamental hedges.  However, much to my surprise, my inevitable question was answered even before it had finished forming, as the patch of gravel on which we had landed began to slowly lower itself into the secreted sublevels of what I now knew to be the Oakflare facility.

I avoided making eye contact with Redheart for the entirety of the descent, opting instead to count the time it took us to traverse the vertical distance.  One-hundred-and-eighty-one seconds passed as we slid silently down into the subterranean depths, before we finally came to a smooth, silent stop at the base of the shaft.  Standing there to greet us was a serious-looking earth pony mare, wearing a form-fitting suit of combat barding (with the rank insignia of a sergeant on its shoulder) and a smart, black beret.  An unpleasant, nagging feeling at the back of my mind told me I knew her, but I couldn't immediately see how.

"Sir.  Ma'am," she said curtly, saluting us in turn as we stepped down from the sky carriage.  "I've been informed by the Ministry of Morale that you're in need of some of our R&D equipment.  Brigadier Bridge regrets that he won’t be able to meet you in person, but he has a prior engagement, so I’ll be filling in as your escort today.  I’m Sergeant—"

"If you don’t mind," I replied quickly, cutting off the overly serious sergeant.  "We’d like to get started as soon as possible.  I need to see the workspace of a Dr. - oh, what was it again?  Oh, yeah!  Maestro!  I need to see the lab of Dr. Maestro!"

"Ah..." Sergeant Serious said guardedly, frowning slightly.  "You're here about that.  Sir, I can assure you that his ‘disappearance’ this morning was not related in any way to—"

"This morning!?" I blurted suddenly.  "The Doctor was here this morning!?"

"H-how the hell did you know about him!?" Sergeant Serious cried in surprise.  "We didn't even report that part!"

I didn't answer.  The magnificent perfection of my bad timing had struck me mute, and for all intents and purposes, I was momentarily catatonic.  'Unbelievable...' I whispered to myself, as the distant shadow of Sergeant Serious continued to try and communicate with me.  'I missed him by hours... Hours, for Goddess' sake!'

'Ah well,' said One, 'you can't have everything, you know.'

'He's right,' replied Three.  'It's a miracle that you're even still alive at this point, so a little rotten luck is to be expected.  Statistically speaking, you were due a bad turn sooner or later.'

'Your definition of a 'bad turn' differs somewhat from mine,' I grumbled, closing my internal dialogue before I could reply to myself.  'As far as I'm concerned, I haven't had a single good turn since Valve died!'

"I'm sorry," I said a split second later, returning to the physical realm.  "What were you saying?"

"I was saying," Sergeant Serious harrumphed officiously, "that your knowledge of the goings-on in this facility is far too detailed for my liking, even for a pair of spooks from the MoM!  I want to know who you two are!  Now!"

'Oh... Right, then,' I thought as I stared back at the mare, my eyes wide with surprise.  'She's actually on the ball.  What if Pinkie Pie's word doesn't open the doors we thought it—?'

"Who we are is none of your concern, sergeant," Redheart responded with an intimidating scowl.  "What is of concern to you however is twofold.  One: our security clearance is as high as Equestrian law allows, so you have neither the right nor the reason to question us, and two: we are in what I can only describe as one hell of a hurry.  So, if you could show us to the relevant lab, we might just forget about this little encounter when we meet with the Brigadier later!" 

Sergeant Serious' mouth hung open slightly as Redheart's blatant ultimatum worked its way into her brain.  She promptly gulped, and proceeded to nervously stutter her way through her next sentence.  "O-of course, ma'am!" she said, saluting us once more as we began to trot mechanically past our pegasus pilots and into the corridor beyond.  "R-right this way, please!  D-Dr. Maestro's lab i-is at the, uh, end of the hallway!"  She proceeded to trot along in front of Redheart and me, her measured hoofsteps and tense musculature speaking volumes about her state of mind in spite of her silence.  Clearly, she was worried about being written up by her superiors; mentioned negatively in whatever report she was sure Redheart and I would eventually file about our 'duties' at the Oakflare facility.

'Oh, to have worries that small again,' I mused.

As we continued to move forwards, the varied hum of machinery and chattering voices met our ears, becoming progressively louder as we continued deeper into the facility.  After a short while, a stallion and a mare - both dressed in pristine, white lab coats - crossed in front of us, their faces buried in what was apparently the most interesting clipboard in all of Creation.  I watched them curiously as they disappeared down another semi-cylindrical hallway, cocking my head slightly as I did so.  A strange, warm familiarity began to blossom in my chest as I recognised them (and their enthusiasm for clipboards).  In all the time I had been ‘free’ of Stable 52, the only thing that I had missed anywhere near as much as my friends was the basic and honest pleasure of working alongside them, researching away our two decades of life together in our cosy, rad-hardened home.

Part of me longed to return to the simpler days of drawing diagrams and solving equations, where my greatest worries would consist of whether the coding syntax I was using was correct or what the cafeteria might be serving for lunch.  There was a warm, gloriously ignorant comfort to be had in being just another part of one big machine and, much to my shame, I still selfishly wished for it to return to me.  A rare smile - one borne of actual happiness rather than sarcasm or deception - began to slowly spread across my face as I realised what I was about to partake in.  I could actually re-join an intellectual community!  I could research and develop to my hearts' content, surrounded by a massive staff of like-minded—

'Like-minded, huh?' One suddenly mused, interrupting my reverie and banishing my first genuine smile in a good few days.  'Odd phrase.  How exactly are they like-minded, Compass?  How exactly are we even remotely similar to the intellectual giants that got so caught up in fighting their own petty wars that they forgot to not blow themselves up in the process!?'

'Yes, do tell,' added Three.  'And while you're at it, could you maybe explain why the prospect of staying here, thereby abandoning Buckshot, Mo and Sage, not to mention everypony who still needs your help back in the Wasteland, actually appeals to you!?'

'I... I can't,' I stammered internally, entirely unable to answer - let alone counter - my own mind's distinctly negative points.

'Besides,' One continued, before I could answer Three, 'you know you can't save any of them, so there's no point in developing any attachments, either to this time or anypony in it.' 

With that sudden realisation, a deep, dark crevice opened in my gut, wholly consuming every iota of warmth and optimism that I had just managed to scrounge together from the corners of my conscious mind.  I glanced from form to form in the sparsely populated corridors, suddenly seeing only the bare skeletons of the military personnel and the cybernetically mutilated bodies of the scientists in place of the ponies working around me.  The prospect of being happy here - even for a moment - suddenly seemed absurd, and without another thought, I found my guarded sensibilities rapidly reasserting themselves; walls of ice to the coming fire.  

The world around me had had its time, I told myself, and now the only hope for the future of our race were the ponies of the Wasteland.  I glanced at Redheart out of the corner of my eye, and tried my damnedest to force back tears.



<<<<< O >>>>>

Meanwhile, somewhere else in time and space



"Hang on, girls!" I shouted, as the TARDIS made its umpteenth trip back along the local continuum.  "There's another big turn coming up!"

The console room tipped and swayed as the mighty vastness of the machine was once again made to swing around and retrace its steps through time.

"Doc!" Applebloom squealed from her perch on the far side of the console.  "For the love o' apple cider, would ya please stop movin' this here TARDIS o' yours!?  I've already made a mess o' the swimming pool, and I'm pretty sure I've got enough left in me to redecorate yer console if we don't stop soon!"

"I'm with Applebloom on this one, Doctor!" added Ditzy, her face pale and markedly greener than I remember it ever being before.  

"Listen, you two," I grumbled, making little effort to hide my rapidly thinning patience, "this will take as long as it takes, okay?  The fate of an entire world is hanging in the balance, so do forgive me if I'm not entirely sympathetic to your gastronomical concerns!" 

I returned to staring intently at the scanner monitor, aware that, despite her apparent discomfort, Applebloom's expression had soured significantly since I replied to her and Ditzy.

"Now you listen ta me, ya jumped up—!" Applebloom began, before being cut short by a sudden blaring cacophony emanating from the console's scanner.  I instantly zoned in on the multi-coloured readouts as they twisted and turned before my eyes, their myriad of shapes and forms expressing data in an efficient, ergonomic dance.

"Whut is it!?  Did ya find somethin'!?" Applebloom shouted, her nausea quickly retreating before her excitement and concern.

"Is it the Master!?" asked Ditzy, as she crawled around to my side and began to peruse the scanner with me.

"It's... something..." I said absentmindedly, as my hooves manipulated the scanner's tracking knobs, bringing a series of high and low pass filters into play over the energy spectrum being displayed.  "Definitely Time Lord, whatever it is," I concluded after a moment.

"So it is the Master, then?" Applebloom asked, as one of her eyebrows arched slightly.

"Oh, it's the Master’s doing all right," I responded, as the vast majority of my mind grabbed a bright red flag and hoisted it into deep space at the sight of the various waveforms sweeping across the screen.  "But what the hell is it!?" 

"Whut the hell's whut?" Applebloom interjected.  "Shouldn't you be turning this cosmic jalopy around now, or somehtin'?"

"Huh?" I said, as my every single one of my not-so-insubstantial faculties focussed its attention on the scanner readings.  There was something fundamentally wrong with the data I was seeing.  I just couldn't quite put my hoof on it.   "What was that, Applebloom?"  

"Ah said," Applebloom continued angrily, "shouldn't y'all be turnin' us around about now?"

"Oh," I replied.  "Yeah.  Yeah, let's... turn around..."

The wrong was getting wronger.  Second by second, more and more of the hairs on the back of my neck were seeing fit to stand on end as the pit in the base of my stomach continued to deepen - just like it had back in Applebloom's office when my old classmate had first been revealed to us.

"Doctor?" Ditzy said, as her hoof gently brushed against mine.  "You've gone quiet, and you’re not blinking.  What's wrong?"

"It's just..." I said quietly, my mind screaming with frustration and worry.  "I recognise this energy signature.  It's Gallopfreyan alright, but the flux dispersal is... well, it's massive!  I mean, just look at it!  The last time I saw anything cause so much entropic disruption was—" I said, halting my vocalisation as a distant memory came to mind.  

"Oh, no..." I whispered, as I finally realised just what I was looking at.  "I-It can't be!"

The scanner monitor began to shrink as I retreated to the edge of the console platform, my left foreleg clutched tightly against my chest.  My hearts were beating out of control, and I had to grab the railing around the platform to stop myself from keeling over.

"Doctor!" shouted Ditzy, her eyes wide with alarm.  “Seriously, what is it!?  What’s wrong!?”  

“I-it’s… it’s th-the… the Hoof!” I whispered, as my limbs shook uncontrollably.  “He’s g-got… the Hoof!”

“The… ‘Hoof’?” Applebloom asked slowly, glancing confusedly over at Ditzy.  “Whut in the hay is that!?  Sounds like a damn STD!”

“I don’t know!” Ditzy responded loudly, as she wrapped her forelegs around my shoulders, gripping me supportively.  “But whatever it is, it’s scaring him to death!  Doctor!  Can you hear me!?  What’s wrong!?  What’s this ‘Hoof’ thing!?”

“I-impossible…” I continued to stutter, aware only of the horror that I was now facing.  “H-he can’t have it!  He just can’t!”

“Doc!  Snap out of it, for Luna’s sake!” shouted Applebloom, as she slapped me across the face with her foreleg.  The stinging impact brought tears to my eyes and a profound ringing to my ears, but did serve to successfully bring me to my senses.

“Wha—!  Ow!” I shouted a moment later, as my faculties returned to me.  “That hurt!  What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” 

“Gettin’ ya ta speak some sense ya great goon!” Applebloom said angrily.  “Now, whut in the hay is this ‘Hoof’ thing that’s got yer tail in such a knot!?”

“It’s…” I said breathily, gulping as I once again beheld the readings running across the scanner monitor.  “The Hoof of Ponega…”

A profound, pregnant silence, marred only by the sound of the time rotor pulling us across the continuum, rang hollow through the console room.  It was broken after a moment, but only once Applebloom and Ditzy had exchanged a thoroughly confused look with one another.

“Wh-who’s Ponega?” Ditzy asked.

“And why’s his hoof so damned important!?” added Applebloom.

“Ponega was a Time Lord,” I said, exhaling loudly as an uncomfortable shiver of recollection shot up my spine.  “More to the point, he was one of the Time Lords – a trio made up of the original founders of our entire way of life.”

“A founder of the Time Lords!?” said Ditzy, her eyes wide with curiosity.  “Wow.  You’ve never talked about your race’s history before, Doctor.  How come you’ve waited till now?”

“Nevermind that!” shouted Applebloom, her already thin patience diminishing to a knife edge.  “Whut the fuck is so important about his hoof!?”

“I don’t talk about my people,” I began, opting to answer the less irate of my current companions first, “because, even though we were often regarded by outsiders as a great race, we had… off days.”

“’Off days’…?” Ditzy echoed cautiously.  “Wh-what exactly do you mean by—?”

“Are y’all deaf!?” Applebloom interrupted angrily.  “Ah asked you a Celestia-damned question, ya ignorant son of a—”

“AND I WAS GETTING TO IT!” I suddenly roared, rounding on Applebloom just in time to see her face droop in shock at my outburst.  I glanced back and forth between Applebloom and Ditzy, quickly registering the looks of surprise and fear gauntly set upon into their faces. 

“Sorry, girls,” I continued with a sigh, once I was sure that nopony would speak over me.  “It’s just that my race is sort of a touchy subject.  Now then, where was I?”

“The, uh,” Ditzy began, gulping nervously as she spoke, “the ‘Hoof’.  Y-you were going to tell us a-about Ponega.”

“Right,” I said levelly, taking care to once again establish eye contact with the two mares, letting them both back into safe harbour.  “As I was saying, Ponega was one of the three founders of the Time Lord race.  The other two were called ‘Rassipony’ and ‘The Other’.  Between them, they managed to—”

“Hang on,” Applebloom said.  “Whut kind of a name is ‘The Other’?”

“Applebloom?” I replied warningly.  “What happened the last time you interrupted me?”

“Uh,” the fire-maned mare said, shrinking a little as she did so.  “S-sorry, Doc.  Nevermind.”

“Anyway,” I grumbled as I continued, “between them, they created the first TARDIS, paving the way for our ultimate custodianship of the time-space continuum.  Now, not much is known of ‘The Other’, or his involvement in the whole affair, but the other two - Rassipony and Ponega – are legends on Gallopfrey, and with good reason.”

Ditzy and Applebloom leaned in close as I continued, my tale enrapturing them more and more with each passing word.

“You see,” I said, “Rassipony was a crafty bugger, and would outlive all of his contemporaries, eventually surviving right up to the final days of the Time Lord race as the eternal Lord President.  But it was Ponega who really deserved the credit – he created a solar manipulator so advanced that it could control entropic decay, so powerful that it could ensnare an entire star all at once, and so small that it could fit into a single armoured forehoof gauntlet.”

“C-control entropy!?” Applebloom said, aghast.  “Wh—!?  H-how!?”

“Time Lord science,” I said, shrugging.  “Time travel doesn’t come cheap, Applebloom.  The Hoof is what was originally used to create the Eye of Harmony, the common power source for all Time Lord technology.  It allows a single user to halt the fusion reaction within a star, briefly interrupting the delicate balance between its hugely explosive chemistry, and its equally impressive mass.  Then, it encases the star in a time lock, trapping it in a perpetual state of imminent collapse.  Now, as you know, a supernova creates one hell of a mess, constituting a huge increase in local entropy.  But without the passage of time for that entropy to increase over, it remains as a solid, tangible ball of heat, light and possibilities, ready to be accessed and utilised at a moment’s notice via subspace power linkages.  Every life on every world that could have been – would have been – destroyed or created by that supernova held over a precipice for all time, their what-ifs and maybes serving to fuel my race’s expansion through all of time and space, forever and always.”

“Wow…” whistled Ditzy.  “That’s… amazing…!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Hold up!” Applebloom said quickly, waving her hooves as she did so.  “Are y’all tryin’ ta tell me that this alien super-villain ex-friend-slash-arch-nemesis o’ yours has got his hooves on a gizmo that can turn whole freakin’ stars inside out!?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I said sadly, as I made my way back to the console.  “And now it’s more important than ever that we stop him.”

“Wait.  Whut?” Applebloom asked.  “A minute ago, you were about ta faint over there, and now y’er all gung ho about stopping him again?  Whut gives?”

“What ‘gives’, Applebloom,” I said softly, “is that I think he’s going to use it.  And I cannot let that happen.”

“Are you saying,” Ditzy said loudly, clapping her hooves over her mouth in horror.  “that he’s going to destroy the sun – our sun – to power that fleet of TARDISes he built!?”

“I did wonder how he planned on hooking them up to the original Eye of Harmony,” I mused despondently as I ramped up the power to the TARDIS’s ancient engines.  “Now I know that that was never his plan.”

“But…” Applebloom said thoughtfully.  “He didn’t do it.  We know he didn’t – we’ve seen the future.”

“Time is in flux, Applebloom,” I replied without looking up at her.  “Even around convergent points, there can be massive changes.  In fact, just as long as the fixed event occurs, causality doesn’t care what happens in the immediate vicinity.”

“So,” Ditzy said, her voice wavering as she spoke, “if we don’t stop him from using the Hoof…”

“There might not be an Earth to go war over,” I said solemnly.  “At least in the future we saw there was still life out there.  I met ponies who cared for one another and me – a total stranger, with ideals and civilised concepts like justice, commerce, love, compassion and mercy.  If I had to choose between a wasteland filled with that and a whole planet-load of sudden time-gods with nothing but fear, confusion and a genocidal maniac as their guides, I’d pick the former any day of the week!”

“But…” Ditzy said meakly a moment later.  “Wh-what about us…?”

“Hmm?” I said, as I looked to her and Applebloom, instantly regretting my action when I beheld the lost, deeply sad expressions on their faces.

“Answer her, Doctor,” Applebloom said simply, her words full of quiet force.  “What about our world – the war?  Can’t you save us?”

My eyes darted back and forth between the two mares, my lower lip trembling with every thought that ran through my mind.

“I—” I began weakly, my breath catching in my throat.  “We’ll… we’ll see…”

At that, I turned back to the console, the weight of a world on my shoulders.




0
<<<<< O >>>>>




Meanwhile, in the Equestrian Wasteland...


Arriving at the bottom of the lift shaft, Atom, Bulkhead and I found ourselves staring at the familiar, gear shaped sight of a stable hatch resting at the end of a long and dimly lit tunnel.  Despite the somewhat feeble light being cast by the wall mounted crystals, we were still able to clearly make out the corrugated texture of the metal lining the passageway and the large, off-white lettering of the stable's number.

"Here we are!" announced Chase as we approached the hatch.  She busied herself with the nearby control panel, eliciting a nostalgia inducing screech from the sleeping door as it was made to slide out of its groove and roll off to one side.  "If you'd like to step inside," she said politely, gesturing for us to cross the threshold into the shelter.

We complied quietly, trotting into the stable with as much care as we could manage without appearing suspicious.  Following Chase, we were led out of the entrance hall and into an adjoining chamber, the appearance of which alarmed me greatly, seeing as how said room was not part of Stable 52's design.  If each individual stable had an entirely different layout - a possibility that I’d never even considered - then escaping in a hurry would be a far more complicated matter than I had originally counted on.  Fresh worry began to blossom within my breast as Chase trotted up to a wall lined with sturdy-looking safe deposit boxes.  With the sound of the stable door being resealed behind us echoing through the room, the unicorn mare turned around, her ridiculously pleasant demeanour shining like a beacon in the grim, subterranean dankness.  

"Now, ma'am, sir, if you'd like to deposit your talisman with the cash office here, we can see to getting you settled in the emporium's guest accommodations," she said brightly.  Bulkhead complied, hoofing over the gleaming crystal without so much as a second thought (Goddess forbid this mare ever took up conning ponies for a living - she could clean out half of Equestria before anypony raised an eyebrow!).

"Wonderful!" Chase continued, as our sudden wealth was deposited into one of the wall slots and magically locked inside.  The unicorn then conjured a trio of small enchanted paper slips and passed them to us (she snatched her hoof away from me quickly, almost as if she was afraid I would bite).  "I hereby acknowledge your deposit.  These are personal credit slips which you can use inside the Emporium to pay for goods and services - or to bid on anything that takes your fancy - while you're staying with us.  Upon your departure, your remaining balance will be returned to you in the currency of your choice, unless of course you decide to take advantage of our banking services in which case I can help you to choose which of our accounts is best suited to your needs.  Now if you'll just follow me, I'll have your property sent to the slave quarters and we can get schedule your meeting with Mr. Tower."

A quick glance of panic darted between Bulkhead and Atom as Mo and Buckshot were approached by a burly looking pair of leather-clad unicorns, no doubt part of a vast staff of slave handlers.

"Uh!" shouted Bulkhead, obviously engaging his vocal chords before thinking of anything to say.  Everypony in the cramped little room turned to look at him as a deep blush found purchase in his cheeks.  "I, uh, was hoping to keep our slaves with us!" he managed to blurt.

"I'm sorry sir," said Chase sweetly, "but personal slaves are not permitted in the Emporium's inner sections.  It's strictly owners and house slaves from here onward."

I shot Bulkhead a glare through my bandages: 'Buckshot and Mo know what they're doing,' my eyes said.  'Just run with it!'

He seemed to get my meaning as his head bowed a moment later in acceptance of the rule.

"I understand," he said, much more calmly than before. 

"Do take care of them won't you?" asked Atom, recognising that Bulkhead needed some time out of the conversational spotlight.  "We've grown quite fond of them."

"Not to worry, ma'am," Chase replied.  "Our slave quarters are state of the art, and our handlers are trained in advanced discipline techniques that leave absolutely zero scarring.  Guaranteed!"

"That's, uh... good to know..." Atom responded, gulping as surreptitiously as she could manage.  

Buckshot and Mo were led away at gunpoint by the handlers, expressions of unyielding stoicism holding their faces firm and expressionless.  I caught Buckshot's eye one final time before he left my sight, and was silently reminded of the promise I'd made to him, a gut wrenching feeling of responsibility plunging deep into my stomach.  Bulkhead, Atom and I then turned and began to follow Chase as she led us deeper into the facility.  Thankfully, the increased separation between us and our escort allowed me to lean forward just far enough to whisper to my stablemates without being overheard.

"Listen, you two," I hissed delicately, "from the little I've seen so far out here, what you're about to experience will probably shock you to the core.  Instead of wondering 'why' you'll probably end up asking 'how' ponies can be so cruel to one another.  You'll want to retch and scream at the injustice, but I need you to hold it together, or else we're all screwed.  Okay?"

We were fast approaching a large and finely detailed double door at the end of the corridor.  As we closed in on it, I was very much aware that the three of us had just become my plan's critical single point of failure - it was all on us, and Bulkhead and Atom knew it.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this Compass!" Bulkhead replied from the corner of his mouth.  "The pressure's too much for me!"

"Don't worry," I said.  "You’re doing great - both of you are.  Just keep it up and we'll be out of here in no time."

Bulkhead nodded, closing his eyes and wincing as a scream and the sound of smashing glass emanated from behind the doors in front of us.

"Brace yourselves..." I whispered, as Chase pushed open the ornate barrier with her magic, revealing the scene beyond.  Our eyes widened in a unity of shock at the sight we beheld:

'A... party...!?' I felt myself mouth.





The room in front of us was recognisable as the original stable's common area, but only just.  Gone were the StableTec fluorescent tube lights and drab alloy pressure doors, replaced by chandeliers of gold and crystal and fine portals like the one we had just passed through, made of rich mahogany and detailed with fine gold leaf.

Several small circular tables were dotted around the space, with a long counter taking up the majority of the far wall.  I recognised the myriad of dusty, colourful bottles arranged behind it as containers of drinking alcohol, making the room we were currently standing dumbstruck in probably the most ornate pub in all of Equestria.

'Oh my Goddess...' I winced internally, as a sudden - but only vaguely relevant - thought occurred to me.  'I still haven't fixed Brandy's bloody counter!'

"Welcome to the Owner's Area!" Chase declared as she led us inside, pulling me back to reality with her saccharine tone.  "Here you can make use of our well stocked bar, order a meal from our kitchen or, if you prefer, you can arrange for a little private time with some of our highly delectable pleasure slaves."

I swear, her voice was making me nauseous...

As we continued inward, I began to survey the room's occupants rather than just focusing on the decor.  Most were well attired and rosy cheeked, swinging bottles and glasses of strong, foul smelling liquid back and forth.  Interspersed between the tables and the patrons was a far plainer variety of pony, clad in tight, cleanly stitched one piece garments with a single piece of ever-so-functional jewellery around their necks: the now ignominious bomb collar.

The slaves, who were predominantly female, milled about slowly, plastering their faces with insincere smiles and faux-sultry looks as they carried plates and glasses to and from the tables.  We followed Chase silently across and out of the bar area, passing through another ridiculously ornate door at the other side of the room.  Behind it sat a single earth pony mare, neatly dressed in a pre-war pinstripe business suit.  Behind her was the most elaborate door yet - as tall as the ceiling and inlaid with gems of over a dozen different hues.  She looked up intently at Chase as we filed in, the doors swinging shut magically behind us.

"Mayday my dear, could you set up a meeting between Mr. Tower and these fine ponies behind me, please?" she asked sweetly.  The mare nodded and tapped out a series of commands on the terminal keyboard in front of her, the horn-rimmed spectacles she wore staying eerily still as she stared at the monitor.  

"I have scheduled the meeting," she replied in a smooth monotone a moment later.  "Your credit slips will audibly buzz when the time has come for you to attend.  At that point, return here."

"Much obliged," Chase said cheerily, giving the unnervingly still receptionist a polite nod.  "Now, if you'll excuse me ma'am, sirs, I have duties to attend to.  Please enjoy your time at the Emporium."

With that, Chase led us back out into the bar area before trotting confidently off to do whatever it was that she called work.  I waited until she was out of sight and turned around to address Bulkhead and Atom - they needed to know the rules regarding a place like this (seeing as how I wasn't expecting a pub full of laughing patrons in this nightmarish place).  Unfortunately for me though, when I had finished rounding on my hooves, I discovered with a deep, plummeting dread that both of my stablemates had spontaneously vanished!  I twisted my head back and forth trying to locate them without drawing attention to myself, and quickly found Bulkhead sitting at a table surrounded by slave owners and Atom conversing freely with the bartender.  Galloping tensely over to Bulkhead, I nudged him in the back with my horn, grunting as I did so.

"Ow!" he said as he turned around.  "Co— I mean, Smith!  What the hell are you doing!?"

I answered with another grunt, gesturing with my eyes toward Atom at the bar - I needed them together and I needed them to not attract any untoward attention.

"Is this a... friend of yours?" asked one of the well-attired ponies at the table, his disdain for my apparent disability seeping into his words like water into a sponge.

"Uh..." mouthed Bulkhead as he looked back and forth between the originator of the prejudice and me.  “Yeah... uh, this is Smith.  He's my... um..."

"Bodyguard?" proffered another occupant of the table as she examined my various scars and bandaged faux-wounds.  "He looks like he's been doing quite a bit of fighting for you recently, Mr. Bulkhead."

'Goddess help me,' I thought to myself.  'He's already introduced himself!'

"Yeah, that's right!" exalted Bulkhead a split second later.  "He's my bodyguard!  Yep!  Wouldn't go anywhere without good old Smith to watch my back!"

I surreptitiously rolled my eyes, trying desperately to not face-hoof in front of everypony at Bulkhead's awful attempts at misdirection.  Another grunt was forthcoming, wherein I once again gestured toward Atom at the bar, glancing in her direction as I did so.

"Straight up?" I heard the bartender ask her, to which Atom responded by looking up towards the ceiling in confusion.  I would've laughed at that simple little misunderstanding normally, were it not for the rich, amber liquid being poured into the glass in front of her.  My eyes widened in panic at the sight of it, and I span around as quickly as I could, galloping at full tilt toward my diminutive companion.  Unfortunately, upon reaching the bar, I failed to decelerate quickly enough, and ended up with my forelegs splayed across the wood, winded and panting at Atom.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked incredulously, as the bartender raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"Doh... Dwing!" I wheezed, snatching the glass from her hooves.  "Daskes... Ike... Fa-ya!"

"Hey!" Atom replied, as she pawed at my grasp.  "What's your problem?  Give me back my drink!"

Remembering that I had been involuntarily cast as a scarred brute with a pronounced mental deficiency, I returned to grunts and gestures as my primary form of communication.  With all the subtlety of a hoof to the face, I mimed (as best as I could) the act of drinking fire and writhing in pain as my throat burned, recounting my own initial encounter with the curious drinks of the Wasteland for Atom's benefit.  

Sadly though, as I finished my little performance, I was horrified to discover that, rather than discretely conveying a warning, I had in fact drawn the bemused attention of every buck and mare in the room.  A long, protracted silence followed during which I didn't dare move a single muscle.  All I could feel was the panicked thrum of my hearts as a rushed and poorly thought out escape plan began to hastily form behind my bandaged brow.

"O-oh Smith, you're such a joker, heh heh!" said Atom nervously a moment later, loud enough for everypony to hear.  "But you shouldn't distract the other owners with your antics like that!  Now sit down and behave!"

Thanking the Goddesses for Atom's quick thinking, I planted my rump on the floor as quickly as my muscles would allow, doing my best to deliver a loyally apologetic look from behind the bandages.  One by one, the awkward gazes fell away, landing on other points of interest around the room - the new money's dumb muscle had been subdued, and the patrons were able to return happily to their drinks and meals.  As the glare of the proverbial spotlight dimmed, Atom grabbed the collar of my barding, pulling me as close to her mouth as was possible without our proximity transitioning into a kiss.  

"What the fuck, Compass!?" she whispered hotly, a kink of anger wrinkling her features.  "We're meant to be incognito, and you pull that shit!?  What were you thinking!?"

"I was just trying to warn you about the drink you were about to have!" I replied in hushed tones, helpless in the tiny mare's surprisingly tight grasp.  "That stuff tastes like lava!"

"That's all!?" she hissed.  "Look, I asked for something good and the buck behind the counter poured me this orange stuff.  Think about it - I doubt they'd sell something damaging to customers as apparently well financed as us!"

"All I know is that when I tried it I almost passed out!" I replied.  "Look, I don't want us to draw any undue attention to ourselves.  I'm just trying to look out for you."

"And a fine job you're doing!" she said sarcastically, raising the glass to her lips and greedily downing its contents before I could stop her.  I gritted my teeth in anticipation of the cry of agony I was sure would follow, only to witness Atom's jaw going slack in awe as she stared wide-eyed at the shot glass in her hooves.

"Oh... My... Goddess...!" she whispered throatily.  "This... Drink...!"

"You see!?" I hissed.  "It's practically poison!  Quickly, ask for some water before you start having convul—"

"I love it!  Another!" she shouted to the bartender.  "In fact, just leave the bottle this time."

"You're the boss," the bored looking buck behind the bar replied.

"What the hell are you doing!?" I hissed under my breath.  "How can you possibly like that... that... swill!?"

"It's amazing!" she replied as she gulped down her second and third shots without so much as pausing for breath.  "Oh Goddess, where has this stuff been all my life!?"

"Wait!  Stop!" I whispered hastily.  "I'm going to get you some water.  There's no way you can actually be enjoying drinking that!  Just try not to throw up when it starts burning, okay?"

I moved away from the bar quickly with the intention of flagging down one of the floor slaves (I figured that the bartender wouldn't be much help seeing as how he A: made his living by selling expensive alcoholic drinks, and B: thought I was a brain damaged idiot).  Happily, a collar wearing mare had just exited the staff entrance to the kitchen as I turned around.

She was carrying a large tray on her back filled with plate after plate of immaculately presented marinated meats.  From where I was, I could discern her dark auburn hide and bright red mane, but it wasn't until I closed in that I was able to see the deep, dark circles under her eyes and the echoing sadness behind her forced smile.  Her hide was littered with dark, shiny streaks - the remains of magically concealed whip marks and other such scars - but her cutie mark, a waving blue flag with a large white 'X' across it, was still prominent regardless.

"Excuse me," I said in hushed tones as she passed me.  "I was wondering of you could do me a favour."

She stopped dead in her tracks, her wide, scared eyes tracking slowly towards my face as her breath quivered.

"Y-yes sir..." she whimpered, rolling her consonants in an unmistakable fashion as her Coltish accent rumbled through her words.  "I-if ye'll just let me deliver these plates, Ah'll... show ye tae a... private room..."

"A... private room?" I asked, confused.  "Thanks, but I'm not tired.  Besides, it's the middle of the day."

"Uh... pardon...?" she asked, cocking her head as she frowned back at me.

"Never mind," I replied, shaking mine dismissively.  "Look I need you to look after that mare at the bar.  See her?  The little one with the—  I mean, the little one surrounded by bottles."

"Aye..." she sighed reservedly.  "Will do, sir.  Do ye happen tae know whit she likes, sir?"

"Uh," I mused.  "As far as I know, breaking things, nuclear physics and, as of five minutes ago, whisky."

"Whit?  N-no, that's not whit Ah meant, sir," she replied despondently.  "Ah mean does she like oral, anal, toys, bondage, is she a top or a bottom, a sub or a domme—?"

"Stop, stop, stop," I said, waving my hooves at her.  "I don't have a bloody clue what you're talking about.  I just need you to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't drink too much of that crap they're serving at the bar.  Now can you do that our not?"

"That's... that's all...?" she asked, her jaw slack with surprise.  "Ye don't want me tae... do anything to her...?  Ye're not gonnae tie me up and have me beg for mercy while she slides vegetables into my nether regions?  Or touch maself while you and her make out and piss all over me?  Or dress me up like a six year old filly and beat mah hindquarters till they glow?"

I blinked a couple of times, frowning as the mental images of what the mare had just suggested settled in my mind's eye.  Something told me that her time at this place had been far from wholesome...

"Those... weren't going to be my first requests, no..." I replied slowly.  "I just wanted you to look after my friend - make sure she's alright, get her some water if she ends up drinking too much booze, that sort of thing."

"Oh," the red-maned mare replied, a look of genuine surprise settling on her face.  "Um... aye, sure.  Ah can look after yer friend there, uh... sir..."

"Thanks," I said, still not quite sure of what had just happened.  "I didn't catch your name, by the way - you're from Coltland, right"

"Uh... aye, I'm Coltish.  My number's 26596," she replied, gesturing to a laser printed set of digits on her collar. 

"No, not your number," I said.  "Your name.  You're a proper pony, you should have a proper name."

"M-mah name...?" she asked in hushed tones, her eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears.  "S-Saltira... M-mah name's... Saltira..."

"Nice to meet you, Saltira," I said softly, as a bloom of happy warmth bubbled up through my chest, inflating my lungs with sunshine as it went.  "I'm Compass.  But for now, you can call me Smith."

With a small, yet happy nod, Saltira bade me farewell and pivoted on one of her rear legs.  She headed off to continue with her waitressing duties, all the while glancing back at Atom to make sure she was still conscious.  The only difference between now and before though, was that the smile on her face was actually genuine.

Happy that I had at least done something right that day, I turned around and began to trot back towards the table I had last seen Bulkhead sitting at.  My intention was that of stopping him from telling any of his Goddess-awful jokes and attracting the wrath of the unamused masses.

It is important at this juncture to note my word choice in the preceding sentence.  Specifically, the word 'intention'.  In my recounting this tale, it was placed there in particular in order to clarify that, although I wanted to go and save Bulkhead from himself, that is not necessarily what happened next.

You see, as I turned around, I was immediately thrown to the floor, landing painfully on my rump, with a sharp pain in my nose and the sound of shattering glass reverberating around me.  A dull thud and a sort of 'oof' sound told me that somepony else had just received a similar blow.  I remained still and tense on the floor for a moment, but rose quickly when the wall of eyes from earlier failed to focus on me again (either they were now used to me acting like I had half a brain, or a collision resulting in a few broken glasses wasn't worth their attention - regardless, I was just happy nopony noticed).

Picking myself up, I took a blind step forward to help up whoever I had just knocked over, only to have the bottom drop out of my stomach in panic.  Laying there, quite literally spread-eagled on the floor, was Galinda, the captain of the Razor mercenaries.

The world around me slowed down as she began to get up, my hooves suddenly rooted to the floor.  My mind raced and my heart rate jumped through the ceiling, a thousand silent prayers to the Goddesses zooming out of my conscious mind.  I begged the forces of the cosmos to stop her from recognising the distinctive design of my barding or the large black overcoat that she herself once owned.  As my panic blossomed though, I was able to make out a number of details regarding her appearance that significantly eased my worries, and introduced an extremely interesting line of questioning in their stead.

For one, she was unarmed, which was an immediate plus.  She had also clearly been serving drinks, which was a bit strange.  And she seemed to be wearing the same basic white tunic as all of the other slaves I had seen in the bar area, which was even stranger.  Could it have been that... she herself had been enslaved!?  Sure enough, as she finally righted herself, a shiny, new bomb collar came into view, fastened securely around the feathered column of her neck.

"Oh Goddess, I'm so sorry, sir!" she pleaded suddenly, dusting the larger glass fragments off to one side.  "Let me make it up to you!  Just please don't tell the handlers!  I'm begging y—"

Her eyes settled on me as she spoke, her fatigued yet keen gaze going from the strangely familiar overcoat to the unique '52' embroidered on my barding collar, finally coming to rest on my bandaged face.  Her beak slackened and her pupils contracted to a set of pin points as recognition dawned within her.

"Oh no..." she whispered, her voice shaking.  "IT'S Y—!  MMMPHH!"

With a flash of azure light, my horn suddenly burst into life, clamping her break shut and grabbing her by the wrists of her forelegs, lifting her about two inches off of the floor.  Before I could say or do anything else though, a small, greasy looking unicorn buck galloped up to me and began to speak.

"Oh, sir!  Sir!?" he said in an annoying, nasal voice.  "I'm afraid I can't allow you to interfere with the house slaves while they're on duty!  If you'd like, I can have this one flogged for dropping your drink but I'm afraid that you can't punish her yourself!  Now if you'll just put her down, I'll have the bartender replace your beverage free of charg—"

"Private room," I said simply, trying as best I could to sound like a grunting primitive from the Paleoponic era.  Galinda's face drooped and she began to shout through her closed beak as the practical implications of what I'd just said became clear to her.

"MMMHH!  MMH MH MMMMH!" she screamed, her cries muffled into soft mewls by my magical grasp.

"Oh, you wanted to—?" began the weasely little pony, a sickly little grin twisting its way onto his face.  "Ah, well in that case, sir, if you'd just like to follow me, I'll show you to our private—"

"No," I grunted.  "Tell me where."

"Uh... just down that corridor there," he replied, a little deflated.  "First open door on your left..."

I hurried out of the bar area with Galinda in tow, moving as quickly as I could just in case my panic-driven burst of magic suddenly fizzled out.  As promised, the first open door I reached in the adjoining corridor led to a stuffy, windowless room into which I rushed, tossing my captive onto the giant bed within.  I locked the door behind me, noting happily (or maybe that should have been worriedly) that the room was most likely soundproof given the thickness of the walls.

"Okay," I sighed, leaning up against the door while I caught my breath.  "Now that we're alone, you can relax.  I'm not going to hurt y— WHOA!"

A large object made of black rubber suddenly flew past my head, rebounding off of the wall and landing directly in front of me, where it began to spontaneously vibrate across the carpet.  I stared in confusion at the device, recognising it as a ridiculously proportioned version of the stallion anatomy I had recently become so well acquainted with.  Frowning, I looked up toward Galinda, just in time for a smaller version - a pink one this time - to connect painfully with my nose.

"OW!" I shouted, cradling my freshly bloodied snout.  "What the hell is your problem!?"

"Stay the fuck away!" Galinda replied fiercely, her eyes alive with fear.  "I'm not going to let you lay a single hoof on me you crazy bastard!  Get back!"

She punctuated her outburst by launching more of the curious, phallic objects at me, all of which seemed to either pulse, wiggle or vibrate in some way or another.  The panicked gryphon had slid behind the bed in the centre of the room, using its huge bulk to keep me at bay as I ran around trying to grab her.

"I just want to talk to you!" I said loudly, as another vibrating object, this one plated with hard, mirrored chrome, hit me right between the eyes.  "And will you please stop throwing those fake penises at me!?"

"Of course I'm not going to stop!" she replied furiously.  "I'm assaulting you with them!"

"But why!?" I shouted, as our ballet around the bed continued unabated.  "I've just told I'm not going to hurt you!"

"As if I'm going to believe that!" she cried, tears of desperation starting to appear at the corners of her large, yellow eyes.  "I don't care if they blow my head off!  You're not touching me!"

'Oh, for Luna's sake,' I thought.  'This is going nowhere!  I need to calm her down before she does something stupid.'

At that, a cunning and, dare I say, brilliant little idea popped into my head: I would jump over the top of the bed and pounce on her, forcing her 'fight or flight' reflex to kick in.  Now, given her current disposition, I figured that she would much rather fly to the other side of the room than take a chance at clawing my face off (especially given how 'dangerous' I was supposed to be).  I could then stretch out my hind legs and buck her in the chest as she flew overhead, knocking the wind out of her so I could get close enough to explain my position and start bargaining for her silence.

Still taken by my own brilliance, I launched myself over the mattress, making sure that I was in full view of the panicked, scantily clad gryphon as I did so.  She shrieked in surprise at my sudden flurry of motion and, as I had expected, unfurled her wings in order to make her aerial escape.  

Just then though, a curious thing occurred.  I turned my head around while I was still in mid-pounce, and tensed my flank muscles ready for the ensuing buck I was to deliver.  Strangely however, the gryphon-shaped silhouette I was expecting never entered my peripheral vision, leaving me to collide bodily with the sweaty, scared mass of feathers cowering in front of me.

As I regained my faculties after coming to a halt, I propped myself up on my forward hooves and found that I had successfully subdued my assailant (although it wasn't in the way I had originally planned).  She squinted up at me as she tried in vain to flex her limbs, no doubt battling a near concussion level headache after our collision.  As the fog lifted from her perceptions and she realised what was happening, Galinda's pupils once again contracted to a pair of tiny points while her eyes grew into saucers of apprehension.

"Oh... G-Goddess..." she whimpered, staring helplessly up at me.  "P-please, Compass, Doctor, whatever your name is, please don't kill me!"

"Who said anything about killing you!?" I replied, still panting from my sudden exertion moments earlier and the resulting flash of pain.  (In hindsight, I probably should have waited to catch my breath before delivering that particular sentence - let's just say that it sounded more than a little threatening given my posture at the time.)

"N-nopony!" she stammered quickly, sweat trickling down her brow.  "I, uh, remember what you called me the last time we met.  D-do you still want a g-good... little... birdie...?"

She began to weep silently as her struggling transitioned from genuine attempts at gaining freedom to a series of titillating theatrical moans and whimpers.

"Galinda," I began softly.  "That's not—"

"I'm s-sorry I've been a b-bad birdie, Master," she squeaked, a genuine measure of cuteness seeping into her otherwise aggressive tones.  "P-please don't p-punish me too h-harshly."

"H-hey!" I tried to continue.  "Stop th—"

"I p-promise I'll be a good birdie, Master!" she continued to whimper, as, much to my dismay, a familiar tightness began to develop between my hind legs.  "I'll d-do all the th-things that M-Master likes.  I-I'll start with Master's b-big, hard—"

"That's enough!" I shouted, loud enough to make her recoil with fright.  "Galinda, I'm not the buck you think I am - the first time we met, I tricked you, okay?  Sage and I wanted information, so I played the mad mercenary to intimidate you and induce some bean-spilling.  I'm not insane, I'm not a rapist and unless you're doing something I don't like, I'm not dangerous!  Okay!?"

Galinda looked at me with a neutral, vacant expression for several seconds before finally opening her beak to respond.

"What…!?" she hissed emptily. 

"I was never going to hurt you," I replied.  "Not back at Eagle Ridge and certainly not here.  I just happen to be an excellent liar."

"Do... do you have any idea what you've cost me...!?" she said, her voice flat and quiet.

"Well, how about you tell me?" I said, trying my best to match her mood.  "I'd certainly prefer that to dodging another batch of those vibrating things."

Galinda broke eye contact with me for a moment as she glanced around the room in thought.  Her gaze moved to the walls, then the ceiling above and, finally, back to my face.  A sigh escaped her beak as she gave me a tiny, compliant nod.

"Okay," she said softly.  "Let me up and we'll talk."

I acquiesced, padding backwards carefully so as not to injure her any further.  There was a tense moment as she righted herself during which I thought she might return to assaulting me with fake penises.  Much to my relief though, all she did instead was draw herself up to her full height and look me up and down.

"You've been busy, I see," she said flatly, regarding my various scars and wrapped head.  "What's with all the bandages?"

"Edinbuck's Sentinel - well, Sentinels - caused most of it," I replied.  "The bandages are just so nopony would recognise me... which, I'm sure you'll agree, worked out wonderfully."

"Huh..." she said back, flexing her jaw.  "You went up against the Sentinel and survived?  I'm impressed.  But you probably should have changed your outfit as part of that 'disguise' of yours, although I will say the horn's a nice touch."

"Yeah..." I said slowly, as I began to unravel the bandages with my hooves.  "The horn's not part of the disguise - it's, uh, kind of a permanent fixture now."

I wasn't exactly sure how she'd respond to the sight of my most recent disfigurement, but I surmised that seeing my face - my real face - would help when it came time to ask her to keep my secret.  I needed Galinda to trust me, and negotiating from behind a mask was not likely to provide said trust in anywhere near the amount of time I actually had to hoof.  

As the strips of fabric fell to the floor, Galinda's eyes studied my features in their entirety - every scar, every bruise and every cut was examined and catalogued by her invasive mercantile perusal.  That was until, of course, the final bandage was removed.  Galinda's eyes widened and her brow flexed into a frown of confusion as my shiny new appendage was finally revealed.  She stared for several long moments, making me squirm slightly with discomfort, before finally looking me in the eye to ask the obvious question.

"What... what the hell...!?" she whispered, gawking.  "That's... that's fuckin' unbelievable!  How did you survive that!"

"Oh, Goddess, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," I replied, my best faux-nonchalant smile plastered across my face.

"B-but it's real!" Galinda exclaimed.  "You used magic on me!  Last time we met, you were an earth pony!  I mean, I thought just you had a levitation talisman in your barding or something!"

"Nope.  No talisman," I replied smoothly.  "I'm a unicorn now.  Unicorns are cool.  However, the particulars of my transition from one to the other are still the subject of a great deal of confusion, so, that being the case, how about we move on, and you tell me what the hell you're doing here dressed as a slave?"

Galinda stared at me for another few seconds, shaking her head in disbelief before scoffing softly and returning to her regular conversational tone.

"Mostly carrying drinks," she said sarcastically, her eyes still partially focussed on the crown of my head.  "But I'm sure it won't be long before I to get to lick out some rich old mare or get fucked in the arse by one of the guards.  I'm an exotic flavour apparently, at least according to the handlers."

"That's not what I—" I began, rolling my eyes.

"I know what you meant," she said sadly.  "I... I made a mistake.  Stone Tower's contracts are like gold, so delivering a bounty for him's a privilege you pay for.  The Razors and I were broke, so when the opportunity to impress him came up, I leveraged part of the bounty itself as our signing-on fee.  Basically, I bet on us capturing him.  So when Stone Tower found out we hadn't retrieved Sage he... he..."

"Demanded payment," I interjected softly, eliciting a small, shaking nod from Galinda.  "But this time your credit was no good, so you leveraged your own freedom for another chance at the contract.  But... you guys got Sage the second time - that's the whole reason I'm here, to get him out of this place.  How did you end up—?"

"I was their Captain!" she suddenly shouted.  "It's my job to make sacrifices for my famil— I mean, my team!  I deserve this for being so damned stupid in the first place!  I... deserve... this...!"

Her last sentence was littered with sobs as the once proud creature in front of me dropped to her knees in tears.  I closed in slowly, making sure she wasn't surprised by my approach, and lay down next to her.  

The Razors had betrayed her, I realised, a pang of feeling threatening to tear my hearts in two.  She had risked everything for her friends, only to be left to a life of servitude and degradation in thanks.  I thought of Buckshot and Mo, incarcerated in the slave quarters above, and shivered as a wave of awful 'what-ifs' washed over my mind.  I tried my best to banish such depressing thoughts, returning to the current matter as quickly as I could.

"It's okay, Galinda," I whispered, as I chanced putting a supportive hoof around her strong neck.  "Like I said, I'm not here to do business with Tower.  I'm here to rescue Sage and shut this hell hole down for good.  It's my intention to free every slave in this facility by the end of the week."

"A-are you crazy!?" she hissed through the tears.  "You want to liberate the Emporium!?  You and what fucking army!?"

"The thousands upon thousands of slaves in the upper levels who want nothing more than their freedom?" I proffered sarcastically.  "Besides, it seems like every pony I talk to thinks it's crazy, so that means nopony's actually seriously tried it before, which gives us the upper hoof.  So, do you want in or not?  I could certainly use some—, uh, gryphon, with your fighting skills when it all kicks off around here."

"I... doubt I'd be much good..." Galinda said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor in sorrow.  "They sanded my claws and they... they pinioned... my wings..."

"They… they what!?" I whispered, a warm, glowing outrage suddenly flowing into the spaces behind my eyes and at the back of my mouth.

"They... cut the muscles under my wings and... and used magic to make it... permanent," Galinda said slowly, as tears freely trickled down her face.  "I can unfurl them.  But I'll never... never fly again..."

At that, Galinda's pride completely deserted her and she began to weep just as I had outside Stable 52.  Great torrents of hopeless brine careened down her plumage as she wrapped her forelegs around me and squeezed.  I doubted that I was anywhere near her ideal companion at the time… but I was all she had.

"It's okay, Galinda," I cooed softly, my teeth gritted in rage at the injustice of her mutilation.  "I'll get you out of here.  You'll see... you'll see."

I held her for an indeterminately long time as the sorrow leaked out of her into the hide of the shoulder.  I did my best to control my breathing, pushing my anger and the urge to break the first handler I saw in half deep down into my breast for later use.  I was there for Galinda, and nopony else.

"Galinda?" I eventually whispered, still shaking with anger.  "Will you help me destroy this place?  Will you help me make sure that the slavers can never do this to another living creature?"

She looked up at me with her big, yellow eyes, pink and puffy from all the crying, and gently opened her beak to reply.

"...yes,"  came the whispered response.  

"Alright," I said quietly, as a hot breath of anger audibly escaped my nostrils.  "I want to free all the slaves at once and I'm assuming it's not as simple as interrupting the control signal to their collars.  Is there a terminal or something I can access that can disable them remotely?"

"Y-yeah.  There's a terminal," Galinda replied, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Good," I said.  "Where can I find it?"

"In Stone Tower's office..." the gryphon said solemnly.

'Oh, but of course that's where it is!' I grunted inwardly, grinding my teeth in frustration.  'Goddess forbid the thing I need ever be easy to get a hold of!'

I turned to Galinda as she picked herself up and adjusted her tunic - it was at least two sizes too small for her strong frame, revealing a pleasing, shapely portion of her flank as she moved (a sight which I ended up guiltily staring at for several minutes).

"Alright then," I said, as I prepared myself for the return to my semi-mute character.  "Galinda, I need you to be ready to move when I disable the collars, because I sincerely doubt this is going to be a peaceful transition.  Don't tell anypony about me, okay?"

"Got it," she replied, her confident demeanour returning with a bracing intake of breath. 

"Okay," I said, sighing as I moved towards the door.  "Let's get back out there - I hope Atom and Bulkhead haven't done anything to stupid while I was-"

"Wait!" Galinda suddenly shouted, causing me to whip around in surprise.  "You can't go back out like that!  They'll all know something isn't right!"

"What?" I replied.  "How would they be able to figure that out?"

"Simple, you idiot," she said, rolling her eyes.  "You dragged me in here - to a private room - and we're about to waltz out without any scratches, gashes or wet feathers a few minutes later?  Everypony out there expected you to come in here and fuck my brains out!"

"Oh..." I replied, unsure of what exactly was to come next.  "Um... well, then what do you suggest we, uh… do?"

A single thin eyebrow tilted skyward as Galinda drew herself up to her full height and bored through me her with her sharp eyes.

"Don't get any ideas,” she said warningly, as she began rummaging through a chest of drawers near the door.  “I meant what I said earlier - nopony's bedding me unless I fucking say so, collar or not!"  Her tail swayed gently back and forth, aiding her balance, and I did my best not to stare at her hindquarters as her search continued.  

"Uh, Galinda...?" I asked, as I turned my head to face the floor.

"Mm-hm?" she replied, her beak still buried in the drawer.

"Uh..." I said, trying desperately to distract myself from her body.  "What, uh... Oh!  What are these fake penis things for?"

"They're called dildoes," she replied absentmindedly.  "You use them for sex.  Gets you off quicker or gives you a bigger orgasm or something like that.  I've managed to avoid them so far."

"Uh-huh..." I said, still straining against the urge to turn my head.  "And, uh... why... are there so many?"

"Dunno," the gryphon replied.  "In case of dildo emergencies?"

"Uh-huh..." I said, as my sense self-restraint was quietly suffocated somewhere inside my head and I turned to once again regard Galinda's hindquarters.

There was something so... enticing about those outfits - perhaps even an enchantment - that made it difficult for me to tear my eyes away from her flank.  The way that they offered naught but a tiny glimpse of flesh, framing what little was on show for all to observe at their pleasure, was somehow exciting.  I knew that by now Galinda was either too disciplined or too weary of it to care, but the prospect of something as simple as a skimpy garment making a proud, strong creature like her vulnerable - in any way, shape or form - made my breath quiver.  

"Ah!" she said suddenly, bringing me back to reality with a jolt.  "Found it!"

In one of hers claws she held a large, semi-transparent tube of fluid, the purpose of which I couldn’t immediately divine.  Before I could ask the obvious question, Galinda suddenly hiked up her tunic and began to smear the tube’s clear, gelatinous contents over her hindquarters, paying special attention to the space between her rear legs.  My jaw dropped and my eyes bulged out of my head at the alien sight of her reproductive organs as the rosy folds of flesh were inadvertently bared to me.  A special, soft atmosphere formed in the room as I centred unblinkingly on what she was doing, the sounds of her gentle ministrations forming a strange, all-consuming rhythm of fuzziness around me.  Apparently unnerved by my sudden silence, Galinda glanced briefly over her shoulder, and proceeded to do a double take when she saw the look on my face.

"H-hey!" she shouted, blushing angrily and turning her backside so that I could no longer see it.  "Stop that, you fuckin' pervert!"

"I would..." I said slowly.  "But I... can't seem to... stop staring at it..."

"Try fucking harder!" she shouted indignantly, as her enforced partial nudity was suddenly brought to the forefront of her considerations and she began to try in vain to stretch the tunic over her entire body at once.  A tear quickly appeared along the back of the garment, eliciting an undignified yelp from Galinda and an unexpected groan of pleasure from me as her toned, oiled rump was left stark and bare.  

"Will you stop looking at me like that!?" she shouted.  "You're creeping me out!"

"S-sorry..." I said absentmindedly.  "You just look so—"

"Stop!" Galinda shouted back, hurling the bottle of gel at me.  "Not another word!  Not one, single syllable more, you understand!  Just rub that stuff between your legs and then towel off so it looks like were going at it, okay!?"

"Y-yeah... sure..." I whimpered, swallowing as a few small drops of the clear substance dribbled to the floor from between her hindquarters, despite her clenching together them in embarrassment.

I picked up the bottle with my forehooves and laid on my back against the bed, squeezing the plastic container until a thick layer of the gel within had been deposited onto my belly and sheath.  I tried to divert my gaze from Galinda as I worked it into the small hairs of my hide, but found that my mind's eye had retained a very nice set of images, making the subsequent behaviour of my optical organs entirely unimportant.  The gel made my hooves slick and frictionless, allowing me to glide over my hide and apply pressure to a wide variety of places in rapid succession.  Before long, the gel had well and truly matted my hide, but my hooves continued to rub my nether regions almost of their own volition.  A deep, sweet pleasure was blossoming in my gut and travelling through my pelvic area to the tip of my—

'Oh Goddess, not again!' I cried inwardly as I opened my eyes.  The pink tentacle between my legs was back with a vengeance, engorged with blood and standing erect like a fleshy periscope.  I looked anxiously over to Galinda as my breathing became short and hoarse, only to find her with her rear legs spread wide, a small needle held delicately in her claws.  She was gently prodding her rear with it, eliciting the release of small trickles of blood which she smeared into the glistening layer of gel on her hide.

Now, the blood I could have done without seeing, but just the sight of her bent over like that, her claws gently pressing the soft, wet flesh of her backside made my mind swim.  I gasped loudly as a fresh wave of pleasure rocketed through my nether regions and stared in horror as the gryphon's head swivelled to face me.

"WH-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" she screamed, her rear legs once again shooting closed.  

"Oh Goddess, Galinda"  I shouted back, huffing and puffing all the while.  "I'm sorry!  I can't stop!  I don't know what's happening!"  

"You dirty son of a bitch!" she hissed furiously, as she marched over and pinned my forelegs to the bed, inadvertently toppling on top of me in the process.  Galinda halted her fall by pressing her entire muscular bulk onto my limbs, completely restraining my torso while holding her body aloft.  Her back arched tensely as she strained to avoid physical contact with me while her beak cried havoc for my infraction.

I tried to listen to her as she shouted obscenities at me (I really did, I swear!), but my gaze was once again drawn to the enticing sight of the space between her rear legs, and the somehow infinitely more arousing concept of genital proximity.  Galinda continued to berate me for a few seconds longer before she noticed that I wasn't responding to her expressions of outrage.  

"I am not something for you to sit and clop over!" she shouted angrily.  "Got that!?  Hey!  Will you look at me when I'm talking to you!?  What the fuck are you staring a—!?"

Galinda's eyes followed my line of sight as she tilted her head slowly downward, eventually coming to rest on the focus of my vision.  We both realised in unison that, with a single movement of my hips, I could easily bridge the gap between our reproductive areas, bringing the wet, sticky organs together in a singularly carnal embrace.  I wasn't exactly sure why I wanted to do it mind, but something in my head (and between my legs) was willing me inexorably to push my pelvis towards hers.

"Don't you dare!" squawked Galinda, her eyes wide with warning fire.  "I swear to Celestia I'll gut you if you do it!"

"But..." I panted, as the urge to thrust filled me with wet shivers.  "I want to... so... much!" 

"Don't!" she repeated, her hips fighting to maintain their distance from me.  "I'm warning you!"

"Would it really be so bad?" I asked desperately.  "Just a touch!  Please, I promise I'll be quick!"

"I don't care if you can come in ten seconds flat!" she roared.  "You put that in and I swear to Celestia I'll peck your bloody face off!"

"But... but..." I whimpered back, as the urge to push was exacerbated by a gentle current of air that glided wistfully past my organ.  "I feel like I need it!  What's the problem with just one little—?" 

"I'm not going to let you have sex with me just because you've said you'll help me!  It doesn't work like that!" she said quickly, interrupting me.  

The word 'sex' was suddenly in the forefront of my mind, occupying every single one of my thoughts.  Was that what I was about to do!?  Was I about to have this much talked about, haughtily lauded, almost mythical 'intercourse' with her!?

My last image of Buckshot being led away by the handlers immediately catapulted itself into my mind's eye, rendering the trust he had placed in me in dark, cloudy shades across the canvas of my mind.  Alongside that solemn still came the echoes of a deep pang of betrayal - the structure of his entire life was now balanced precariously upon my little, blue shoulders, and all I could think about was jamming a part of my anatomy into some gryphon who, a little over a week earlier, had tried to kill me for money!  

My words from the pub in Edinbuck drifted through my consciousness and I was reminded of how I had embarrassed him in front of the Trotfell guards, how I had outright declared my desire to have my 'first time' with him rather than anypony else.  The urge to push was diminishing now, falling into the recesses of my mind.  I still felt it clawing though, as if I had shackled it and its only recourse was to fight for my will.  

It was a good thing then that I had already decided upon my next course of action...

With more strength than I thought I could muster, I pushed my hips up towards Galinda, forcing a loud squawk of surprise from her beak as the harsh impact resonated through her.  There was a moment of silence as the desire to thrust died away entirely, secreted back to whatever dark crevice it had originally come from.

Galinda pushed herself up onto her elbows a couple of seconds later, realising that I had, in fact, not penetrated her, but had instead used my hips and an unprecedented burst of upper body strength to throw her onto the floor beside me.  She stared at me silently, her expression a mix of confusion and a strange, reverent variety of surprise, as I squeezed my rear legs together as tightly as I could, rolling erratically around the floor and forcing my arousal kicking and screaming back into the depths of my loins.

"You..." Galinda said quietly.  "You didn't do it..."

"And?" I panted back at her, as my organ continued to recede, marking the halfway point in the restoration of my dignity.  "Is that... so difficult... to believe...?  I happen... to have... a coltfriend.  And I want... my first time... to be with him... okay!?"

"Y-you're a virgin!?" Galinda scoffed as she rose off of the musty carpet.  "And you're saving yourself!?  Celestia's tits, now I've heard everything!"

"Good!  Great!  Whatever!" I groaned as the wonderful, sweet feeling I had been enveloped by a moment earlier ebbed excruciatingly into the abyss.  "Can we get out of here then!?  Surely we'll look the part now!"

"I'd, uh... I'd say so, yeah..." Galinda replied, in a curiously non-combative tone.  "Do you, uh, need any help or—?"

"No," I said, hoisting myself up onto my hooves using the bed to support my still weak knees, "I'll be fine.  I've just got to towel off right?  Make all this goo look like natural secretions that we've spread around?"

"Yeah, that's right," Galinda answered simply.

I grabbed the towel that she had been using a few minutes earlier to dry off her nethers, and applied it gently to my own.  I found that the affected region was very tender and sensitive, and that even the slightest touch still brought on a little remnant of the sticky sweetness (it took all my strength to not dive back down there with my hooves again).  After exhaling deeply a couple of times, I finished the preparations to my 'makeup' and reapplied my improvised headgear before starting towards the door.  I was halfway across the room when a set of soft, measured tones addressed me, causing me to stop in my tracks and check the room for intruders.

"Compass...?" Galinda said, her voice the most delicate I had heard it yet.  

"What is it, Galinda?" I responded, my head cocked to one side slightly - I had no idea how she could speak so delicately, especially given her otherwise harsh demeanour.

"I... I do listen to the radio from time to time, you know..." she said slowly, clearly tip-hoofing around some other subject.  "And I remember this one radio drama - the one that Moon Shadow always used to broadcast from Trotfell.  The Razors and I listened to it whenever we were in the area."

"And?" I asked, frowning.  Where was she going with this?

"And," she replied.  "I remember that the main character - the one that Sage said you... ‘resembled’ - could... could change himself when he was badly hurt.  That he could become somepony completely new; with a different body and a totally changed personality."

"Galinda," I said, as I sighed with aggravation, "if there's a point to this fascinating little story I'd love to hear it."

"The point," Galinda responded, "is that you are completely different.  To me at least.  I mean, the last time I met you, you were this terrifying, crazy earth pony stable buck, all squeaky-clean and mental and angry.  But now... now you're... kind... and... and caring.  You want to help - to make everything right, even though it's nothing to do with you... and let's not forget the horn!  I have to know, Compass... are you—?"

"Look," I said, interrupting the feathered thinker, "Galinda, I've already asked that question a hundred times and I'm no closer to an answer now than I was when I first thought to ask it.  Yes, the similarities are remarkable, but their existence can neither conclusively confirm nor debunk any theories you or anypony else may have about what I've become.  All that I know is who I am.  And right now, that's the most important thing I have."

Galinda stared at me for a moment as my words sank in, blinking only once as an implacable and subtly respectful expression was drawn onto her face.

"So…" she began quietly.  "Who are you then...?"

I turned to face her, and once again pulled the bandages slowly off of my face as I trotted forwards, every one of my steps heavy and purposeful.  Galinda took one step back for every two I took forward, eventually pressing herself up against the far wall as I continued to advance.

"I'm Compass," I said breathily, staring straight into her wide, yellow eyes as my chest began to heave.  "I'm a genetically modified engineer with the memories of a thousand year old time traveller.  I was birthed from a tube in a hermetically sealed fallout shelter called Stable 52 in the Trottingham lowlands.  I am seven years and nine months old, and I'm the one who's going to save every stallion, mare and foal in the slave quarters above!"

Galinda stared silently at me for a long while, her beak slack and her eyes glazed.  Her head slowly began to turn, indicating the onset of either a state of confusion or a mood of scepticism.

"Got a problem with that!?" I asked, panting triumphantly.

The gryphon simply continued to stare, her head rotating so far that I feared it might just unscrew and drop to the floor.

"W-wait," Galinda said, as she squinted back at me.  "How old did you say you were...!?"





Galinda and I left the private room a short while later, but only after I had explained at least half a dozen times that I was indeed as old (or, indeed, as young) as I claimed to be.

We emerged into the corridor already fully in character - my bandages were back in place, as was my extensive vocabulary of guttural, monosyllabic utterances, and Galinda was making a good show of being a recently raped, hopelessly downtrodden victim of the Equestrian slave trade.  The tiny pricks that she had made in her backside made sense now - they were exuding thin, harmless streams of crimson that trickled over her genitals and down her legs, creating the illusion that she had just suffered a rough and unpleasant servicing.

Our preparation proved to be a good idea as the slimy little unicorn from earlier suddenly showed up at the other end of the corridor and made a beeline for us even before the private room's door had finished closing.

"Ah, I see you're finished, sir," he said, every syllable slipping greasily off his tongue as he glanced behind me toward Galinda.  "May I assume that you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah," I mumbled throatily, casting my best 'lustful' look back in Galinda's direction.  "Gryphon was good.  I pay triple."

"A-are you sure, sir?" he gawked, as I flashed my credit slip in his face.  "There's really no need - all of our services are offered at a flat rate, and we wouldn't want a client of your importance to—"

"Triple!" I said firmly, as I loomed imposingly over his tiny form.  

"Y-yes sir!" he stammered, turning to address Galinda.  "You, gryphon!  You can have an hour's break.  Go back to the slave quarters and clean yourself up."

I sent a deep scowl in his direction when he turned back around, resulting in the immediate formation of several beads of sweat on his already shiny brow.

"U-uh, actually," he said hurriedly, as Galinda started to move off, "m-make that two, no, three hours!"

"Yes, sir," Galinda whimpered softly.  "Thank you, sir."

With that, she slinked off down towards the other end of the corridor, pausing just long enough for me to send a secret, supporting wink in her direction (fortunately, the administrator pony was too short to see my face as I looked at her).  I started back towards the bar area, hoping that nothing too bad had happened while I was gone, and was joined (regrettably) by the unicorn.

"Uh, s-sir?" he said shakily, as his tiny legs struggled to keep up with me.  "I had something else that I have to discuss with you..."

I grumbled something unintelligible back, indicating that he had my permission to proceed.

"Well, sir," he said, "it's to do with one of your slaves – the male.  I'm afraid he... escaped and was able to cause an incident in the bar before he was subdued—"

"WHAT!?" I screamed, rounding on the diminutive little pest.  "What happened!?"

"AH!" he screamed at my sudden outburst.  "H-he injured a handler and escaped in the ensuing confusion!  The first thing he did was make a run for the owner's area where he was apprehended after one of the house slaves managed to distract him long enough for an anaesthetic spell to cast by one of the other patrons."

Both my mind and my hearts raced at the thought of what could possibly make Buckshot act that way - could it have simply been that he lost his nerve?  Perhaps he had found something out that he needed to tell me!  Whatever the case, I had to go and see him.

"Where is he!?" I shouted, causing the little unicorn to wince at my tone.

"H-he's back in the slave quarters under heavy guard, sir," he responded.  "I've arranged a flogging scheduled for this afternoon, but if you prefer, you can administer his punishment yourself.  H-he is your property after all, sir."

"No punishment!" I said quickly, the urge to break character threatening to overwhelm me.  "I do it when we leave!"

"I-I'm terribly sorry, sir," the bastard responded, "but many of our patrons were greatly distressed by his outburst and are demanding he be, at the very least, subjected to corporal punishment.  In all honesty sir, it's actually the best outcome, both for you and the slave - were he the property of the Emporium he would already have been disposed of."

My mind swam as the prospect of my beloved being strung up and physically abused saturated my thoughts.  I couldn't just let somepony do this to him!  And, under the circumstances - the horrible, inequine circumstances - that meant that I would almost certainly have to take this despicable, deplorable little louse up on his offer of administering the punishment myself.

"I… I do it then!" I growled, my options exhausted.  "I flog him!"

"V-very good, sir," the unicorn replied, nodding.  "I'll have that arranged for you."

At that, he trotted off as quickly as his hooves would carry him, leaving me alone in the corridor to contemplate what was to come.  With a deep dread lining my stomach, I ventured back out into the bar area.





The impact of Buckshot's intrusion wasn't immediately evident as I left the private corridor.  The tables were exactly where they had been and the slave owners were all arranged as before, enjoying their despotic roles and hedonistic ways at the expense of their innocent 'possessions'.  However, there were now two additional handlers guarding the main doors that hadn't been there previously, and there was definitely a great deal more broken glass and crockery on the floor than before - clearly they were still in the middle of discretely cleaning up the aftermath.

I located Atom and Bulkhead as quickly as my eyes would allow - they were both now seated up at the bar - and started towards them to update myself on the recent happenings.

"Atom?  Bulkhead?" I whispered into the space between their heads.  "I heard about Buckshot.  What the hell hap—?"

"Aw, it's Smith!" drawled Atom as she suddenly looped her ropey little forelegs around my neck.  "Smithy-Smithy-dumb-dumb!  You come to give me a cuddle, eh?"

The smell of her breath told me that she had consumed a massive quantity of alcohol since I had last seen her, and her behaviour indicated that she was under the influence of something (most likely the very same substance) that was dampening her inhibitions and inducing a sort of sleepy-looking euphoria.

I turned to Bulkhead as Atom nuzzled my shoulder and was horrified to discover that he too had apparently consumed a vast amount of the troublesome beverage.  A number of short, brown glass bottles surrounded his head (which was laid upon the bar - he was unconscious) along with a small puddle of drool that was flowing freely from the goofy, contented smile plastered across his face.

Glancing around the bar, I cursed the red-maned 'Saltira' whom I had entrusted with Atom's wellbeing, but found that I was unable to locate her anywhere in the room.  Just as Atom began to gently snore into my shoulder, and I silently questioned how my situation could possibly worsen, a faint buzz emanated from a pocket in my barding - the very pocket I was keeping my credit slip in.  Yanking it carefully out of the fabric pouch, my heart sank straight into my gut as I beheld the enchanted, calligraphic script that had appeared on it:

'Mr. Tower will see you now.' 





Footnote: LEVEL UP!

New perk added: Discord’s Touch
You’ve been surrounded by chaos for far too long, and now some of it’s stuck!  You lose two points to your LUCK stat, but, just to even the odds, you gain seven points to each and every one of your skills!