Shepherd Mac was prepared for a lot when he sat down to read from the Bible in a brothel. He expected a few inappropriate outfits, or some bad behavior from ponies that didn't agree with Celestia’s teachings. They were easy enough to deal with, and he wasn't worried in the slightest.
The one thing he didn't expect to see was a familiar face. “Howdy, cuz!” Braeburn exclaimed as Mac gaped at his sudden appearance in the first row of chairs. “Small universe, ain’t it?”
Macintosh quickly pulled his cousin aside, apologizing to the rest of the group for the delay. “Have you gone and spit your bit?” he demanded. "Why ain't you helpin' the rest of the family with the settlement? What in the hay are you doin' in a place like this?"
“Workin’!” Braeburn said cheerfully. “What else? The old homestead’s runnin’ a little low on bits, so some of us went to find jobs elsewhere for a while. It’s only until we can scrape together enough cash to keep things going.”
“So you found work in a cathouse?" The preacher nervously pulled at his collar, wondering when it had gotten so uncomfortable. "Breaburn, this... this ain’t the kind of work our family would take kindly to."
“You're workin' here, too!” the cowpony laughed. “Relax, Macintosh. I’m just helping with security and the like.”
Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “Security? You ain’t ever been in a fight in your life.”
If some of the wind was taken out of his sails, Braeburn certainly didn't show it. “Shucks, I know that! There are a few others besides me that handle the rough stuff. I just help carry out drunks every now and then. Folks mostly behave themselves on account of Miss Colgate keeping order, and there are plenty of other things to do; I cook sometimes, and I fixed a fence out back.” He looked Macintosh over curiously. “Is there any particular reason why you’re here? I think I might've seen some of your friends before, and they don't seem like religious types.”
“They’re good ponies,” Macintosh assured him. “Listen, Ah got a feelin’ that things are about to get nasty around here. Might be a good time to cut and run.”
“I couldn't do that!” Braeburn insisted. “Macintosh, these folks have been good to me. They’re payin’ me way more than I’m worth, and the Apple family needs all the help it can get. Besides, there are some real nice ponies here.”
One member of the tiny congregation waved shyly at Braeburn. “And some nice buffalo,” Macintosh noted as the cowpony waved back. “Brae, you’re smarter than this. A good job ain’t worth dyin’ for. You really ought to get out while you can.” After a surreptitious glance around to make sure that nopony was listening in, he added “And for mercy’s sake, just call me Mac. You know better.”
Braeburn’s blindingly bright smile disappeared. He looked much older without it, and the sudden change was as startling as it was depressing. The responsibility of caring for his family was weighing on him, no matter how well he hid it. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I forgot. We miss you back home, you know? Things just ain't been the same." They stood for a while in silence, each wondering what to say next. Braeburn, ever the talkative pony, spoke first. "I ain't leavin', cousin. These folks need all the help they can get.”
"Bad idea," Macintosh grumbled, but he could see that there was no changing Braeburn's mind. "Just keep a lid on things, alright? You know how careful Ah need to be, especially in a place like this.” He looked at the buffalo again and broke into a reluctant smile. “She’s... cute. She got a name?”
“Little Strongheart.” Braeburn’s grin returned with a vengeance. “Nice to see you’re doin’ alright, cuz.”
Macintosh hugged him, thankful for any chance to see his estranged family. “Ah missed you, too.”
*****
Every resident of the Heart of Gold Ranch crowded the lobby that evening. It was a tight fit, but everypony made sure that Lyra had plenty of room. She nervously paced back and forth in the small area allowed to her. “We run,” she said. “The math just doesn’t add up. Our arsenal ain't exactly overwhelming, and I don’t much like what we’re up against. There’s nothing worse than a monster who thinks she’s got some goddess or another on her side.”
“She’s only one mare, isn’t she?” Thunderlane asked. “Can’t we just shoot her?”
“We don’t want to turn her into a martyr. A lot of ponies around agree with her, and they outnumber us. She's got them all scared for their lives and concerned for their families. There's no reasoning with fear like that.” The Captain's face darkened. "Besides, with the kind of training she's had I think it'd be best to avoid tussling with her altogether."
“May I ask why you know so much about her?” Colgate asked. “She’s lived in this town for years, and we didn't know any of this.”
“It’s the hammer,” Lyra explained. “Only a very special kind of soldier carries a weapon like that. During the war, the Empire needed a way to root out changeling spies. Ponies like Mjolna were what they came up with.”
“She’s a changeling hunter!” Colgate spat. “Wang bao dahn!”
Octavia inconspicuously grabbed Vinyl’s hoof as Lyra continued. “Changelings, and other things. All the ones the Empire picked for the job were just... wrong, somehow. None of us really knew what they could do, but you'd hear stories. It was all just rumors; none of us believed it, but it kept us plenty scared. We’re not sticking around to see what this one’s capable of.”
To her credit, Colgate took the news in stride. “I understand, Captain. You have to think of your crew, just as I have to think of my workers.”
Lyra smiled and shook her head. “You don’t get it. When I said we were running, I meant all of us. You get your people together, grab whatever you can’t bear to leave behind, and kiss this place goodbye. We’ll help you find somewhere else to set up.”
Some of the mares and stallions seemed to like the idea. Furtive looks were passed around, and all eyes turned to Colgate. “With all due respect,” she said, “I’m not leaving.” The ranch’s owner calmly walked into the center of the room, squaring up to Lyra and making it clear that hers was the final word on the matter. “I spent years fighting for this place, Captain. It’s a part of me.”
“I know the feeling,” Lyra sighed.
“When I got here, half the girls were drugged up and the others were in withdrawal. In less than a month I was running the place and helping them get clean. Two years after that, one of my mares was with child and the father came looking for trouble. He’s buried out back, along with the previous owner. We’re no strangers to trouble, Captain. We’ve seen our fair share.”
Lyra looked around at a sea of frightened eyes and tense jaws. “She’ll kill you,” she warned. “She’ll kill every last one of you if it comes to that, and she’ll do it with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. She's been conditioned to feel not one ounce of guilt over it.”
“She’s just a mare,” Colgate said. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to roll over and let her take what’s mine. I think you’d do the same.”
Nopony spoke while Lyra mulled over the situation. “I have to admit it,” she finally said. “Mare, you’re my kind of crazy.”
“Doubt she’ll be expectin’ a fight,” Thunderlane said. “Could be that we’ll catch her with her pants down, assuming she’s wearing any.”
Octavia nodded in agreement. “She will most likely attack by daylight, but some caution would not go amiss. I suggest a three point watch with four hour shifts, Captain.”
“Three points,” Vinyl agreed with a stern look, “four hours. That should do it.” Her wife gently patted her on the shoulder, trying not to laugh.
“There’s some lumber in a wagon out back,” Shepherd Mac offered. “Not sure how much is usable, but it could come in handy. Ah’ll take a look.”
Pride stirred in her chest as Lyra looked around the room. Her little group was ready and eager to help, even those that were clearly out of their depth. “Okay,” she began. “When we start shooting, they might try to burn us out. They’ll know that changelings aren’t big on fire. What’s the water situation?”
“Underground well,” Colgate said. “The pump’s old, but it won’t break down on us.”
“Good. Derpy, could you swing an upgrade?”
The ship’s mechanic nodded. “I’ll talk to Sereneighty and see what she’s got that we can use. We could also probably rig up some kind of container and release clamp underneath the ship to dump a few dozen gallons in a hurry.”
“Perfect,” Lyra said. “Vinyl will help you. See if you can fill it with something a bit more exciting than water. Tick Tock, you’re going to be doing pretty much what you’ve always done. Be ready to take care of anypony that gets hurt. Octavia can teach the whores a little something about handling a gun, which is definitely the weirdest thing I’ve had to say all week. Thunderlane is going to set up in the attic. He’ll be our sniper.”
The pegasus had been distracted by a mare hanging off of him, and had to pull his attention away from her. “You’re looking awfully cheerful about all of this," Lyra observed.
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “We’re in a whorehouse, and the whores are payin' me. This is the best job ever!”
Lyra rolled her eyes so hard that she nearly hurt herself. “Charming,” she sighed. “Well, what’s everypony still standin’ around for? Get to it, you lǎn shǎguā! We’ve got work to do, and there’s only a few hours of daylight left!”
*****
Work proceeded at a good pace, especially for the Shepherd. Several volunteers had offered to help him fortify the ground floor, Bluebell and Daisy among them. The two mares went out of their way to work near him, and he was surprised at how much he enjoyed the company. “We’ve been thinkin’,” Daisy said after about an hour. “We know what we want you to read over us if we fall.”
Mac held a wooden plank over the window and plucked one of the nails from his mouth. “Nope,” he said around the rest. His comforting smile brought to mind a father building a tree house. “We only bury the dead, sugar cube. Nopony’s dyin’ here.”
"But would Celestia take us?" Bluebell asked. "If... I-I mean, even though she knows what we are and what we do? Father Springtime said -"
"Enough of that!" Mac interrupted. He scowled and hammered the nail a bit harder than was necessary in his anger. The room shook with the impact. "Don't you listen to a word that pony says, y'hear? Not one word. He ain't a good pony, and he's takin' advantage of you. You don't mean any less to the goddesses than the next mare, and don't you doubt that for a moment. Understand?"
"Y-yes!" Bluebell said quickly. "Thanks, I think."
Mac grabbed another board and held it against the window frame. "Well... you're welcome, I think." They smiled at each other, reaching a strange sort of understanding. It wasn't every day that a preacher befriended whore.
Meanwhile, an impressive pile of weaponry was being arranged in the attic. “There’s no easy way to say it,” Thunderlane said while organizing his rifles. “Somepony’s gonna die. It could be us or them, but more likely it’ll be a few from each side. That means there’ll be blood, screamin’, and all manner of strange behavior. It can scare a pony that ain’t used to it.”
Rose watched his every move with rapt attention. “The important thing,” he continued, “is to keep your head. I’ve got my favorites lined up here, so you just gotta pass 'em to me one after the other. If everything goes right, you’ll be one of them that survives this. Any questions?” She shook her head. “Great! Let’s get started.”
The earth pony leaped into his lap and enthusiastically began to kiss him. Thunderlane was careful to keep her away from his mouth.
The escapades of the ship’s hired muscle were heard one floor below as something heavy tipped over. Colgate looked up at the ceiling, a bemused smile gracing her normally stern face. “Your friend is going to use up all of his credit before he’s earned it.”
“He’s an eager one,” Lyra said. “Not much else to be said about it that doesn't make a body nauseous.” She looked out the window and saw Octavia trying to train some of the ranch’s workers. Braeburn was among them, and wasn't shy about showing off his rifle. Bon Bon had joined in the lesson with, of all things, a bow and arrows.
Derpy and Vinyl were working on Sereneighty nearby, the unicorn lugging around heavy equipment while the pegasus scribbled something on a drawing board. From Lyra’s position it looked suspiciously like a collection of stick figures.
“Well,” Colgate continued, “perhaps you can do a few chores when you’re done saving our lives.”
“I got plenty of experience with a mop,” Lyra offered. She watched as Colgate levitated a small, ornate box down from a shelf in her closet and carried it to the desk. “Shiny. What’s that?”
Colgate raised the lid to reveal a pair of extremely expensive pistols. “The only things the previous owner of this place didn't abuse.” She touched a pearl handle fondly. “I've never fired them in anger before. I think that’s about to change.”
Lyra looked over the weaponry, standing a little closer to the blue unicorn than was necessary. “They’re mighty impressive,” she said. “What’s their story?”
The former Companion chuckled. “Every golden gun ever made has the same story, and it isn't an interesting one; somepony had more money than sense. They were meant to be vanity pieces, nothing more.” She lifted a heavy revolver and checked the cylinder. “They shoot true, but I've always been fonder of the kind you carry; practical, comfortable, and dependable. Too much shine can obscure the heart of the thing.”
Lyra smiled admiringly. “You've got a gift for fine phrasing.”
“Comes with the job,” Colgate said. “At least it did, when I still had the job.”
When the silence became uncomfortable, Lyra took out her lyre. “Do you miss being a Companion? A mare of your talents ought to have done pretty well, I’d think. I hope I’m not prying.”
“I don't mind.” Colgate stared at the pistol for a while before putting it back in the box. “I do miss it, sometimes. It wasn't as difficult as you might think; there’s a lot of fuss over it, but you’d be surprised at how much of it just amounts to being nice. It's sad that some ponies have to pay for that.” Lyra motioned for her to continued, which was quite a thing to do while playing with her hooves. Colgate joined her on the love seat, sitting just close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other. “It’s silly,” she said quietly.
Lyra nodded. “Most things this important are a bit.”
“Maybe it just wasn't a good fit,” Colgate sighed. “I can still hear the High Priestess lecturing me. She kept telling me that I was treating it like a business. I’d always try to say that it’s just that: business, nothing more. She’d go on and on about how beautiful and healthy the relationship was, about how much we were helping by giving the client a pony to talk to. We didn't agree on everything, but I liked hearing her talk about it. Rarity had a way of making you feel better about yourself whenever she opened her mouth.”
For one small, almost imperceptible moment, the iron-hard resolve seemed to abandon her. For the first time since they’d met, Lyra saw what Colgate looked like when she wasn't sure of herself. “It’s funny in a sad sort of way. Being a Companion is just about being there for somepony that needs you, but they never consider returning the favor. Is… is that a selfish thing to want?”
“You don’t strike me as the selfish type,” Lyra said, wishing that he had Colgate’s way with words.
“Berry was always there for me,” Colgate continued, a trace of happiness working its way back into her voice. “I always wondered if she loved me, but I doubt it. Companions don’t normally go for that kind of thing. We get jaded after a while.”
Eventually the sun sunk low over the horizon and Lyra began to wonder where she would be spending the night. “There’s a room ready for you just down the hall,” Colgate offered. “Unless, that is, you’d like a drink?”
In the end duty took precedence over a beautiful mare, much to Lyra’s intense regret. “Probably a bad idea to drink the night before a gunfight,” she said reluctantly. After an awkward goodbye she trotted down the hall to her room.
She was surprised to find a handsome pegasus waiting for her, although in hindsight she should have seen it coming. He leaned against the door frame and winked at her as she approached. “Hi,” he said, flashing a smile that could have stopped the heart of nearly any mare in the 'Verse and more than a few stallions. “I’m Morning Glory.”
“Of course you are,” Lyra muttered under her breath.
Morning Glory glanced behind him at the bed, hinting at a potential business transaction. “Would you like some company?”
By the time he turned around again, Lyra was already knocking on Colgate’s door. The former Companion looked pleasantly surprised as she opened it. “Colgate? I think I’d like that drink now.”
*****
Bon Bon , like many other Companions, had only a basic understanding of first aid. Something as complicated and delicate as a sick foal was completely beyond her. Tick Tock was a bit more knowledgeable, but hadn't been trained as a pediatrician. He made do with running all the tests he could think of and staying as friendly as possible.
His sister was much less helpful, but at least she was staying out of the way. Vision watched little Berry Pinch with the same detached curiosity she used for the rest of the world. "I don't like it here anymore," she had muttered when they first met the little filly. “Something’s got her sick.”
It was heartbreaking to see such a wonderful foal bedridden. Berry Pinch smiled as Tick Tock examined her, happy to be meeting somepony new. She spoke constantly despite her sore throat and cough, spouting an endless string of questions that Bon Bon tried her best to answer. The most amusing question by far was "Are you space pirates?"
“No,” Bon Bon answered automatically, but reconsidered when she saw how disappointed the little filly was. Maybe a little excitement would be good for her. “Do you know what a smuggler is?”
“Is that like when mama tucks me in?” Pinchy asked.
It was impossible not to laugh, but Bon Bon made a valiant attempt. “That’s snuggling, darling. A smuggler is a pony that transports illegal things. Lyra and her crew sneak around behind the Empire’s back all the time, so they’re sort of like pirates that don’t hurt innocent ponies.”
Pinchy’s eyes grew adorably wide. “Do they fight Reavers like Daring Do?”
Again, Bon Bon hesitated to answer. She didn't want to put ideas in the filly’s head, but surely there was no harm in letting her fantasize about a life of adventure. She was obviously going to do it anyway. “Sometimes, and they often have to deal with dangerous criminals as well. They've been in a few tight spots over the years.”
Pinchy's mother didn't appear until Tick Tock was nearly finished. “Your foal is sick!” Bon Bon whispered harshly. "Where have you been?"
“Does it matter?” Berry Punch asked tiredly. Her breath smelled of red wine, and her eyes were unfocused. Every few seconds a hint of green would shine through, spoiling the illusion. “How is she?”
Tick Tock ruffled the filly’s mane. “I think she’ll be just fine,” he said. “She seems to be on the mend. I can’t find a thing wrong with her, and her fever’s broken. She needs to drink plenty of liquids, and some hot soup wouldn't go amiss. Keep her in bed for a day or two and make sure she takes her supplements.”
“I will,” Berry said numbly. “Time for bed, honey.” Her daughter complained as she was tucked in, but Berry was very firm. Tick Tock led Bon Bon into the hall so that they could talk in private.
“Is something wrong?” Bon Bon asked. “Is Berry’s daughter really going to be alright?”
“I think so,” Tick Tock said. “It’s the mother I’m worried about. I’m not sure that she’s the best thing for her daughter right now.
Bon Bon gasped. “What an awful thing to say!”
Tick Tock gave her a hard, disapproving look that he had relied on for years whenever dealing with unruly patients. “Bon Bon, she’s been drinking since we arrived here this morning. I don’t like saying it any more than you like hearing it, but alcoholics aren't usually candidates for Mother of the Year. She needs help, for her daughter's sake just as much as her own. Nothing good comes from ignoring an addiction like this."
Bon Bon looked at Berry, who was quietly singing her daughter to sleep. Her words were a little slurred, but the love behind them was undiminished. "What do you want me to do?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Tick Tock said, "but don't Companions often provide a form of psychotherapy? That training could be very useful here. It might be good for her to talk to a friend about her problems."
"Fine," Bon Bon sighed. "I’ll see what I can do. You just focus on getting ready for tomorrow; there are going to be plenty of other ponies for you to worry about."
Tick Tock trotted away do prepare his makeshift operating room, Vision trailing close behind him. "So," Bon Bon said when they were gone, "how about some soup? It might do her some good to eat something before she rests."
"I think I'm a little hungry," Pinchy said. "Can I have some soup, mama?"
Berry smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Of course you can, honey. We’ll be right back.” She stumbled out of the room, inviting Bon Bon to follow her.
They had a quiet talk while Berry prepared a small meal. The purple mare slid a bottle of wine out of a rack sitting on the counter while she waited for the soup to cook. “Is that really a good idea?” Bon Bon asked. “It might be best to stay sober while your daughter recovers.”
“Yeah,” Berry said bitterly. “It would be.” She uncorked the bottle and took a drink.
Bon Bon gently laid a hoof on Berry’s shoulder as she sighed into the bottle. “Are you alright, dear? Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Berry mumbled something so quietly that she probably couldn’t even hear it herself. “What was that?” the Companion asked.
Berry sniffled and tried to wipe her eyes, spilling a little wine on the floor in the process. “I make a terrible mother.”
This is worse than I thought, Bon Bon realized. She gently led Berry to the kitchen table and helped her sit down, subtly taking the bottle away as they walked. “I doubt that very much,” she said. “You love your daughter, dear. Anypony could see that.”
“Can they?” Berry asked. “I’m not so sure. I’m raising her in a whorehouse for Celestia’s sake! Things should have been easier after her father died, but sometimes I just….” She buried her face in her hooves and sobbed quietly. “I want to be the mother she needs, but I'm not. I'm trying, Bon Bon. I’m trying so hard.” Her voice became choked with tears.
Bon Bon was familiar with emotional decompression, and could see that this had been building for a long time. She hugged Berry and let her cry, glad that everypony else had turned in for the night. The alcoholic mare was free to vent all of her frustration and insecurity in relative privacy.
Some of that frustration was most likely related to Colgate. Poor Berry was never very good at expressing herself, and had been expelled from the Companion Academy after only a few months for that very reason. Colgate had helped her find a job, and that small act of kindness had earned her Berry’s undying devotion.
Unfortunately, that lack of communication skills continued to haunt her. Even for a changeling, Berry was abnormally desperate for affection. Sometimes Bon Bon wondered what kind of life she had endured before joining the Guild.