Chapter 5: Crossfire and Gunner’s Heaven
Darkness surrounded the four mares. Crossfire tensed, not liking the lack of light, but it was only a second for the lift to grind to a halt and for yellow emergency lighting to flicker on. The lights were coming from dusty long unused magical gem lights fixed upon the ceiling. Crossfire could see now that they’d been lifted into what looked like a hub for several different tunnels, each with a rail line leading off into the gloom. Brick masonry suggested these tunnels might have once been part of the sewer system but had been repurposed some time ago. There was a raised section next to the lift that was enclosed, a room with a few desks and old, dark terminals sitting on them. It might’ve been possible to get one of the terminals working, perhaps dig up some clues as to the purpose of this whole place, the tower, the Stable, all of it, but Crossfire didn’t care.
Her only focus now was getting Knobs to someplace that could help her.
Luckily one of the tunnel rails had a tram car on it, similar to the one down below but smaller in size, more suited to moving just a few dozen ponies instead of over a hundred.
There was little conversation between the four mares at this point, all of them too tired to really muster up much in the way of small talk. Except for Knobs. Even down two legs and probably too much blood, the teal mare seemed to be trying the hardest to keep everypony’s spirits up.
“Looks like we’re petty lucky ponies, because that’s looking like a way out to me”
“Assuming its working,” said Bruise with a low, worried tone.
“Aw c’mon Bruise, you know ponies built everything to last,” said Knobs with a weak laugh, “If a two hundred year old toilet can still flush, I’d be willing to bet this train thingie will be a smooth ride.”
You arebetting Knobs. We’re betting your life that this machine still works, Crossfire thought, but kept it to herself as they trotted up to the tram and carefully loaded Knobs onto one of the seats. Bruise stayed close to Knobs while Crossfire and Wellspring headed to the front of the care to figure out the controls. The small open driver’s compartment had little to it beyond a few levers attached to a plain console with a couple of gauges, lightly coated with dust. While the controls looked simple enough for a foal to use, Crossfire grimaced at the sight of a ignition switch, but with no key in immediate sight.
“Shit,” she muttered, then felt a hoof touching her leg lightly, Wellspring looking at her and gesturing at the room with the terminals.
“Maybe in there?”
Crossfire gave Knobs a concerned glance, seeing that Bruise was holding the teal mare gently. Knobs’ coat was showing a paler cast to it, and Crossfire could see a sheen of sweat on the mare that probably didn’t signify anything good. Knobs was still smiling, but her eyelids were starting to droop and her breathing seemed irregular, her breaths coming in short gasps. Crossfire grit her teeth and gave Wellspring a nod as they both quickly trotted to the room with the terminals. The door was locked but the door itself was little more than rotted wood and splintered under a single hefty buck.
Inside Crossfire immediately went for the desk drawers, throwing them open and hastily rifling through the random papers and debris within. She ignored what any of the papers might’ve said, ignored the items she casually tossed aside, only interested in anything that looked like a key. With each drawer she pulled open her motions got more violent, until she was practically bashing the drawers open, or ripping the table apart to get at whatever lay within. Finally at the last table, a hefty desk pushed up against the far corner of the room, yielded the result she was after. Inside the central drawer she found a keyring, and snatching it up in her magic she turned, but halted when she saw Wellspring sorting through some of the things that’d been tossed from the other desks.
“What are you doing?” Crossfire barked, lips drawn down in a hard grimace, “Stop wasting time, I got the keys.”
Wellspring glanced up, frowning at Crossfire, “Calm down. I’m merely collecting a few things that may shed light on what was down here.”
Crossfire, ears flat against her skull, let out a frustrated growl. Nearly stamping the floor with each step she roughly pushed past Wellspring, giving the other mare a hard glare as she did so.
Wellspring huffed, stuffing what she could into the pockets of her clothes and followed Crossfire out. Bruise gave them a hopeful look and Crossfire answered by jangling the keyring up and down as she went back to the controls. It took her a few seconds to discover which key fit the ignition, and when she did Crossfire licked her lips, a trickle of cold sweat on her brow as she started to turn the key. She resolved if this didn’t work she’d put Knobs on her own back and gallop down the tracks to wherever they led, tunneling to the surface herself if she had to.
She let out a heavy breath as magical energy sparked to life inside the console and streams of purple electric arcs played along the tracks and the engine of the mini-tram let out a gurgling, throaty roar to life. Crossfire turned her head to grin at the others, but her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open as the new light from the tram’s little side lamps illuminated the tunnel opposite them. Including the dozen or so Gobs that had been sneaking up on them.
As Crossfire shouted a warning, her crimson magic swung around her rifle, the Gobs let out chittering warcries, half of them charging forward while the other half threw rusted makeshift axes and knives. Bruise had instinctively put herself between Knobs and the sudden danger, using her huge, thick body as a shield. One axe embedded itself in the large purple mare’s flank, and a knife cut a deep gash across her brow, but the other weapons either hit at wrong angles and bounced off, or simply missed entirely. Wellspring took a nasty cut on her shoulder and she yelped in pain, falling backwards off of the tram.
Crossfire, swearing under her breath, bucking back with her legs and hit the lever to send the tram moving forward as she scrambled over to the passenger car. Her rifle flared with hard, loud barking shots that drowned out the Gobs’ incessant warbling chatter as the group of small hairy monsters charged forwad. One dropped with half of its head ruptured in a geysering dark mess of gore, while another’s arm was torn clean off by the rifle shots, but the creature, foaming at the mouth, just snatched up its severed arm and came on running, swinging the limb like a club.
Wellspring, giving a high whiny of fear, scrambled to her hooves and chased after the tram, keeping pace with the open door of the passenger car. Crossfire got to the door just as one of the Gobs leapt for Wellspring’s back, swinging an axe. Crossfire swept her rifle out and intercepted the axe with the bayonet, sparks flying as the sharp, thick blade of the bayonet tore the axe out of the Gobs’ sweaty hands.
“Get on!” Cossfied shouted, holding out a hoof, which Wellspring grabbed and allowed herself to be hauled aboard. Crossfire quickly floated her rifle back in before the tram entered the tunnel fully. For a second it seemed like they might have gotten away cleanly, but that was only until Crossfire saw the Gobs throwing something else at them... not poorly crafted weapons, however. No, these objects were small, cylindrical, faintly red, and had fuses lit and burning at one end.
Oh buck me with a- Crossfire couldn’t even finish the thought before a succession of rapid, head splitting explosions rocked the tunnel. Crossfire could feel the lurch in the tram, the way it lifted and slipped off the tracks, and had only a second to brace herself before she was slammed into the side of the car as the tram derailed and hit the wall, showers of sparks and a screech of metal accompanying her swift trip into the nearest flat surface.
The tram skidded along the wall for several dozen yards before coming to a halt, leaving Crossfire shaken and with her head spinning, but otherwise unharmed. She took a couple of seconds to let the world tilt back to its proper axis before lighting up her horn to bath the passenger car in soft red light. She didn’t hear the Gobs incessant chatter anymore, trough she couldn’t immediately see outside the tram to tell why. Regardless, her first priority was to make sure everypony else had survived the crash.
“E-everypony alright?” she asked in a dazed tone.
A teal hoof raised and Knobs’ weak voice said, “Teacher, I threw up, can I get off the ride now?”
“Still have a fucking axe in my flank, but I’m otherwise okay,” said Bruise, her hulking form rising and her head turning around to roughly tear out the offending blade from her bleeding flank.
“Remarkable unhurt,” said Wellspring, standing and dusting herself off, through her face was pale and she was visibly trembling, “Thank you, by the by, for saving me back there.”
Crossfire just nodded, turning to climb back into the driver’s seat. The controls were smashed up, and it was pretty clear the small tram was entirely off the rails. Looking back where they’d come from Crossfire could see the ceiling of the tunnel had completely collapsed behind them. Crossfire ground her teeth together and took in a sharp breath as she went back to the others.
“Well, our ride is out of commission and we’ve only got one way to go,” she said, looking at Knobs and Bruise, “Bruise, can you still walk?”
The big mare snorted, “Skull City gangers aren’t going to get slowed by shit like this. I could run a marathon.”
Despite Bruise’s words Crossfire could see the pain in the other mare’s eyes and the way her hind leg beneath the nasty axe wound shook slightly in strain. Crossfire looked to Knobs, who was giving Crossfire a small, but steady smile of trust that nearly tore a hole in Crossfire’s heart. Despite all that’d happened Knobs still had full faith in Crossfire’s ability to get them out of this.
“Alright, I’ll carry Knobs,” she started to say, but Wellspring quickly interjected.
“I’d probably be better suited to that.”
At the looks she got from the others the prim mare stood up straighter, “I’m the least injured among us and I am an earth pony! I’m stronger than I appear. Besides its best our two fighters be unencumbered in case we run into further trouble as we get out of this dreadful place.”
Crossfire found she couldn’t argue with that logic, and in short order the four mares were trotting (or in Knobs case riding on Wellspring’s back) down the dark tunnel, following the tracks as they gradually followed a steady, upwards curving incline. At least that gave Crossfire some hope that this was leading towards the surface. There were occasional branches in the tunnel, but only one that continued to lead upwards, so the mares ignored the branches that shot off downward or off to the side into the darkness, only shining a light down that way briefly to make sure nothing lurked there to ambush them. Unfortunately all those offshoot tunnels meant Crossfire had to worry about possible monsters coming up behind them. Bruise naturally, without having to be asked, fell back to be rear guard while Crossfire lead the way up front. As much as Crossfire might not have liked the abrasive ganger she had to give Bruise credit, she worked well in a team. Which, sadly, made sense. Crossfire hadn’t thought much of the Skull City gangers before, and had always wondered how the Protectorate hadn’t been able to win easily in the war, but seeing what she’d seen of the Hammer Crusher gang, it was clear these ponies, for all their crudeness and nasty temperaments, worked well together and could be as courageous as any Protectorate soldier. Bruise’s willingness to sacrifice herself to protect her comrades earlier had proven that much.
It made Crossfire wonder if there’d even been a point to the war. Or if there’d be a point to it starting up again, like so many back in the Protectorate talked about.
After an hour of walking Crossfire was starting to get anxious. Knobs didn’t seem to be getting worse, but she certainly wasn’t getting better, either. She wanted to pick up the pace, but rushing forward could be as disastrous as moving too slow. They just had no idea what to expect ahead of them. The fear of reaching a dead end filled Crossfire every time the tunnel turned a bend.
Her fear dissipated however as she saw light ahead, an odd mix of yellow and green, and saw the tunnel open up into a clearly wide room.
“Finally!” Crossfire said, “I think that’s daylight up ahead.”
It certainly looked that way. Despite the odd green tint, she could tell the pale yellow light had that cast to it that natural daylight had rather than the dull, flat light you usually say from electrical or magical light.
As they approached the tunnel exit Crossfire could see more, and the sight made Crossfire feel even more relieved because it was clear the tunnel opened up to the outside. She could even see sky! That and some old, rusted buildings and what looked like an overturned tram, larger than the one they’d started to ride, but the sky was unmistakable. Crossfire broke into a faster trot, but Wellspring stopped her with a sudden, “Stop!”
Crossfire did so, glancing back at the worried look on Wellspring’s face, Knobs peeking out from behind the earth pony’s honey colored mane with a curious gleam to her otherwise bloodshot and tired eyes.
“What’s up Well?” asked Knobs.
Wellspring pointed, “We... might not want to go out there.”
Crossfire looked towards where Wellspring pointed and then took a sudden step back, seeing what Wellspring had and wondering how she’d missed it. The green glow she’d seen before was coming from a number of barrels that had fallen out of the overturned train, scattered about like a minefield. Portions of the barrels had corroded away, while others were simply broken open, and viscous goo pooled at various spots, giving off the faint green tinted light Crossfire had seen earlier.
“I don’t understand this,” Crossfire said with a soft growl, “What’s a bucketload of magic waste doing dumped out there? I thought you said we were underneath the Inner City, Wellspring!”
“We are, and I know exactly where, now,” said Wellspring with a furrowed brow, “This is the old TransEquestrian Railyard. Its one of the few places in the Inner City that’s been left the same as it was come the end of the war.”
“Why?” asked Crossfire, then her ears twitched about as she heard faint sounds that made her tilt her head in confusion. Gunfire and... cheering?
Wellspring had a slight coy twist to her lips, “Because radioactive railyards make for an exciting battlefield. This is part of Gunner’s Heaven, Skull City’s famed battle arena.”
Crossfire blinked. These crazy ponies decided an irradiated location was suitable for some kind of gladiatorial contest? What sane pony would willingly walk into such an arena!? What good was even getting paid for something like that if you ended up dead from radiation poisoning? On top of that, they decided to use a place for an arena and hadn’t even thoroughly explored the tunnels leading to it?
“I can see you’re a tad confused,” Wellspring said with a light chuckle, “It's really quite simple. Gunner’s Heaven consists of many different arenas, each suited to different battles, depending on the whims and tastes of its patrons. Assuming we can get through here without the radiation killing us, you’ll see other buildings that house venues for other contests.”
“What in Tartarus would they use this one for?” Crossfire asked, frustrated. They didn’t have time for this!
“Depends,” Wellspring said, shrugging slightly, “Sometimes battles between creatures suited to radiation. Many wealthy individuals in this city own powerful mutated monsters that have been trained to be bodyguards or... other things. Sometimes specifically bred for fights in the arena. Other times, well, how to put this delicately? Sometimes criminals are... executed here, forced to fight in the radiation against each other or perhaps salvaged robots.”
Bruise let out a low, scoffing nicker, stamping a hoof and scuffing it as she scowled, “And you damned Guild ponies call us gangers barbaric!? We don’t do this shit to our own.”
Wellspring rolled her eyes, “Oh no, you just gut ponies in the streets for food, drugs, and caps. So much more civilized. At least if a pony ends up condemned in the arena its only after a fair trial.”
Bruise snorted, “Fair trial. Right.”
“Whatever, I don’t care,” said Crossfire, “How do we get through here, then? Knobs...”
“I can hold on,” Knobs said, sweat dripping off her face, but a determined light in her eyes, “Just do what you have do. I’ll be fine Crossfire, don’t worry.”
Crossfire desperately wanted to believe Knobs. She had no real choice but to believe Knobs. Even as she thought it Bruise voiced the very thing Crossfire was thinking, the dark purple mare’s expression set in a grim frown.
“There’s nothing we can do, except run, and hope we find the exit before the radiation kills us.”
Wellspring sighed, hanging her head, “I am forced to agree. Going back into the tunnels does not seem a good option. If we’re lucky an arena official will spot us and open a gate to let us out, we just have to move fast before the radiation seeps into us too badly. We’re going to a hospital anyway, there will be Radaway there.”
With no further discussion the mares headed out. Crossfire would have enjoyed the feel of the breeze and open air if she didn’t know that deadly magical radiation wasn’t already penetrating her body, and that every second was bringing her and the others closer to a painful death. Immediately outside the overturned train cars blocked any pathway forward or to the left, forcing them to rapidly trot to the right, directly into a maze of more train cars. Many were rusted to the tracks, some with open cars, others sealed tight. Many more were overturned like the ones at the tunnel exit, forcing Crossfire and her companions to twist and turn through numerous paths trying to find some way into the open. All around were pools of further magical goo, leftover chemicals, and decayed pits of trash.
“I don’t believe this, why is there so much waste in one spot? This was a railyard, right?” asked Crossfire, her voice frustrated and haggard as she started to feel an uncomfortable warmth and sweat on her brow, the initial signs of radiation sickness.
“Detrot,” Wellspring said, her own breathing getting labored as well, “Detrot was once Equestria’s premiere dumping ground for disposing of waste materials. The city had more facilities dedicated to cleaning up magical waste than any other in the country, so a great deal was shipped here, up until the very end of the war. Naturally when the city was hit by balefire nopony... nopony bothered to... clean up in the... aftermath. Oh my... feeling rather unpleasant here.”
“Hang in there Well,” Knob said, patting the earth pony mare on the head and hugging the back of her neck, “We’re gonna make it. Just keep walking. We’ll make it.”
Wellspring managed a small smile back at the mare riding on her, “No doubt. I, however, apologize in advance if... if I... throw up a bit...”
Knobs smiled, “No prob, I already threw up once. Its cool. Okay, not ‘cool’ as in awesome, but cool as in ‘I don’t mind’, you know? Eeeh, my head’s gettin’ kinda light.”
“Bruise,” Crossfire said, “Give me a boost real quick, I want to see just where we are in this maze.”
The huge ganger mare grumbled a bit, but trotted over to the side of one of the train cars and let Crossfire clamber up on her back, then on her head.
“Hey, watch it, punk Protectorate bitch!” Bruise growled as Crossfire stepped on her head, kicking a bit to get up to the top of the train car.
“Sorry,” Crossfire said in a less-than-sorry tone, then took stock of their surroundings. Fortunately it didn’t look like the labyrinth of train cars was actually all that large. A few more turns and she saw the cars open up to a switching station and a blown out collection of rusty warehouses. Further out she could see the tall, patchwork wall that surrounded the Inner City. It looked like the railyard was built right up against it. Beyond the warehouses she saw a smaller semi-circular wall of cement, it’s surface looking cleaner and better maintained than the larger wall. Within that wall were several stadium-like buildings, between which was a rather nice and fancy looking tower that was covered in strings of fancy lights of various colors, and a flashing neon sign; one that showed a blue pegasus mare wearing a sling of bullets and spinning a pair of revolvers in her hooves, her yellow and orange mane blazing in an artificial breeze. A neon gold star underneath the mare was the start of a sign that said ‘Gunners Heaven’ in flashing lights.
The cheering and gunfire Crossfire had heard earlier was stemming from the stadiums by this building. Tall chain fences encircled the railyard, separating it from the rest of the buildings, but Crossfire could see a few small sheet metal watch towers posted up near the warehouses, and there were ponies in those towers. Crossfire could see the glint of a pair of binoculars, and on impulse Crossfire lit up her horn and flashed it brightly red, directing the light towards the watchtowers.
“What are you doing?” asked Bruise.
“Getting the attention of the arena owners, hopefully,” said Crossfire as she climbed back down, “Maybe by the time we get to the fence line they’ll be there to let us out.”
She stumbled a bit, dizziness washing over her as she got back to the ground. She swallowed, keeping bile down, “We don’t got a lot of time. I saw the way out, follow me!”
Crossfire led them on, mind focused solely upon the path they needed to take. Every step was getting harder as her body got hotter and hotter, sweat dripping off her chin and the world seeming to tilt. Wellspring did her best to keep quiet as she vomited, wiping her chin with a hoofkerchief she kept in her small saddlebag. Bruise marched on with singular grit, her eyes unblinking as they focused ahead.
Soon enough they reached the break in the train cars, leading out to an open dirt area between the switching station and warehouses. The mares were staggering now, but the sight of the thick barbed wire gate, piled high with sandbags, spurred them on. By the time the got halfway to the fence and its gate they saw armed ponies in slick leather armor gathering by it, one of them a unicorn floating a strange metal device that looked like a large metal rod embedded with gems and gears.
Reaching the gate, Crossfire saw all the guards had guns aimed at them, and that none of the ponies had friendly looks on their faces. Confused, yes, and a few curious, but none friendly. The unicorn with the strange device was a bright pink mare with a neon green mane, and it was she who spoke as Crossfire and her companions approached the gate.
“Stay where you are,” she said, “If you try to climb the fence or break through the gate you will be gunned down.”
Crossfire shared a look with Wellspring, the black unicorn making a tired gesture towards the guards, “You want to talk to these jerkoffs? I don’t have the patience for diplomacy right now.”
Not that Crossfire thought much of their chances on shooting their way out, either. She just didn’t trust herself to talk to these ponies without letting her anger spill out, and she’d been shot at enough for one day. The anger still boiled in her, regardless. It was pretty damned clear they were wounded, and suffering from the growing radiation sickness inside them, and the first thing these ponies did was point guns at them!? All Crossfire wanted to do was get Knobs to a doctor.
Wellspring, despite traces of vomit still on her chin and the sweat coating her honey blonde mane to her forehead, gave Crossfire a reassuring smile before facing the guards and the mare with the staff who was apparently in charge.
“No need for alarm, my friends and I are no threat. My name is Wellspring Whistles, perhaps some of you may have heard of me?”
At the blank looks she got Wellspring sighed, “I work for the Radio Guild. I have my papers on me, including my citizenship badge, if you’ll allow me to show them to you?”
The pink unicorn mare frowned, eyes narrowing, “Move slowly, and if we so much as catch a hint of you pointing a weapon our way...”
“You’ll gun us down, yes, you’ve said as much already,” Wellspring said, reaching into her saddlebag. After a few seconds she withdrew what appeared to be a black leather wallet, which she opened with her mouth, displaying its contents as she slowly approached the fence and showed it to the guard.
Crossfire didn’t get a clear look at the contents of the wallet, but saw what appeared to be some kind of neatly folded set of papers on the bottom half of the wallet, and a etched seal of steel shaped like a diamond on the top portion of the wallet. There was a agonizingly slow minute of waiting while the guard mare examined what Wellspring was displaying, the pink unicorn’s face a faint scowl as she kept casting suspicious glances from the wallet to Wellspring, and to the rest of the group.
“Alright,” the mare said at last, “The badge is authentic, and the papers look in order. Care to explain to me then, Miss Whistles, what you’re doing wandering out of the middle of a radiation infused arena ground in the back end of Gunner’s Heaven? And who these... ponies, with you are?”
“I’d be more than happy to answer any questions you may have,” said Wellspring, “But first I would appreciate being allowed outside of that lovely anti-radiation barrier you’re maintaining with that staff of yours. As you can see we’re suffering from the early stages of radiation sickness, and we have ponies in dire need of medical attention. If you allowed us access to Gunner’s Heaven, which as I recall has a marvelous medical staff on call, I can guarantee you the Radio Guild would compensate you for the effort.”
The guard mare’s scowl deepened and she opened her mouth with a clear rejection, but Wellspring spoke again before the mare could get out a word.
“I might remind you that a large portion of Gunner’s Heaven relies on revenue generated by the broadcasts of the Radio Guild to bring its matches to a wider audience, and indeed almost half of your profits are drawn from betting houses that rely on radio broadcasts entirely for their patrons to enjoy what your establishment offers. I imagine your employers would be happy to know you’ve done all you can to assist a member of the Radio Guild and her associates.”
Crossfire didn’t even bother to hide her grin at seeing the way the pink guard mare’s jaw clenched tight, coat turning an even darker shade of pink. Less amusing was the stubborn growl that followed, the mare spitting out past snarly teeth, “Listen bitch, you might have nice shiny papers, but that doesn’t prove shit to me other than some dumb mare decided to go slumming it outside the gates. What’d you do, decide to get your snatch ploughed by some filthy Outskirts ganger? You want back into the Inner City, go back the way you crawled out of, and use the fucking main gate! You sure as fuck ain’t getting your disease ridden shitstain Outskirts friends inside the city through my checkpoint!”
Crossfire wasn’t exactly certain when her bayonet rifle slammed through the chainlink fence, the blade cutting neatly through the metal links of the fence, then pointed its tip cleanly under the guard mare’s chin, but one second there it was, firmly gripped in her magic. All the guards turned their guns towards her, but before they could fire Crossfire pointedly pressed a bit harder with the bayonet's tip, drawing a tiny bead of blood on the pink guard mare’s throat.
“W-w-whoa! Whoa! Stop! Guys, guns down!” the mare shouted, her anger vanishing almost instantly as wide eyed terror took its place. It took the mare a second to recover, gulping and stammering, “Th-the fuck? You crazy bitch. You threatening me?”
“No,” Crossfire said coldly, “I don’t do threats. Simple fact is, my friends and I are dead if we don’t get through your ‘checkpoint’. If I’m going to die anyway, if my friend Knobs here is going to die anyway... you get to die with us. Company for the everafter.”
Sweat trickled down the guard mare’s cheeks as her fellow guards looked towards her for orders.
“You’re bluffing... you’re bluffing...” the guard breathed, as if she were trying to convince herself.
“Maybe,” Crossfire said with a shrug, “Are you willing to bet your life on it?”
Knobs gave a small whine, through Crossfire didn’t look her way. She didn’t know if the sound was from the pain and growing sickness of radiation, or the fact that Knobs didn’t approve of Crossfire’s willingness to murder another pony, but Crossfire found she couldn’t turn to face Knobs either way. Right now Crossfire would’ve killed a hundred ponies like the guard in front of her if it meant either getting Knobs to safety, or taking as many of these ponies with them to the afterlife as she could for daring to get between her and saving the one real friend she felt she had in this disgusting city.
The standoff stretched out, seconds or minutes Crossfire couldn’t really tell which, but then a loud masculine voice laughed and rang out above all of them.
“Hahah! You certainly got an odd taste in ways to make entrances!”
Flapping his wings casually in the air, hovering above and behind the line of guards, was Nightbane. The griffin was still wearing the same dark jacket and green shirt Crossfire had seen him wearing back at Skinner’s house, and he had another cigar clenched in his beak, which he took out and flicked off some ash as he chuckled, landing slowly next to the pink guad mare.
“Sandy, stop being a twat and open the fence. And send somepony to get a dozen doses of Radaway, before these ponies burn a hole in the ground.”
The guard mare, Sandy’s, eyes bugged out as she looked at Nightbane, and she sputtered “S-sir, without authorization-”
“I’m authorizing it,” said Nightbane with a tone that’d cut through metal like a plasma torch, eyeing Sandy as if he were spearing her with them, “You know I can, so don’t bitch. The black one’s a guest I’ve been expecting. The others, I’ll work out the details on them later. Right now, open the fence, before the mare there cuts your throat out and I laugh as you bleed out in the dirt.”
That settled it. In short order the fence was opened, and one of the other guards was sent running for medical supplies. Crossfire found herself, along with her companions, tired, wounded, and still suffering from the onset of radiation sickness, amid a bunch of confused guards, one terrified and pissed off guard, and a smug and widely grinning griffin.
“Thanks...” Crossfire said, unable to keep some suspiciousness out of her voice as she looked at Nightbane, “Why?”
“You owe me a fight. Can’t do that if you’re dead. I collect what I’m owed. Always,” the griffin said without that self-satisfied smile lessening or the gleam leaving his eyes.
“What are you two talking about,” muttered Bruise, “What fight?”
Crossfire waved the mare off with a hoof, feeling a wave of nausea and dizziness washing over her, “Doesn’t matter. Knobs, you holding up?”
“Uuuugh… yuuuuup... sorry Welly... might sick-up again on your mane. You could put me down if you want.”
“Dear,” Wellspring said, breathing heavily and wiping sweat off her brow, “I’ll not set you down in this filthy dirt. Your wounds are dirty enough already. And don’t mind the mane. It’s beyond too late to concern myself with keeping it clean at this point.”
“Looks like you mares had a rough time of it,” noted Nightbane, looking the lot of the over. Crossfire had to admit, finally taking a second to look at herself and the others, that he was right. They looked like tenderized pieces of meat, or old butchered corpses, that had been dragged through a sewer. Not really that far off from the truth, really. She gave Nightbane a humourless smile.
“We’ve had a long day. Can’t say I’d recommend Skull City as a vacation spot anytime soon.”
Nightbane barked out a loud laugh, but his keen eyes didn’t blink as he searched her face, “The city has it charms, for the right mindset. I’m curious, how’d you all turn up here? Only thing in the back of that railyard are some old tunnels nopony’s crazy enough to bother exploring in depth. You had to have come through there, but last I heard them tunnels all lead to dead ends.”
Crossfire looked at him deadpan, “Well, at least one of them is a dead end now. Sorry, not in the mood for tale telling. Body is too busy dying of radiation. Where’s that Radaway?”
“I’d say that’s it right now,” said Nightbane, taking a long drag on his cigar as the guard they’d sent running off before returned, with a number of more guards in tow, and a pair of ponies that Crossfire imagined weren’t guards due to their lack of armor. Of that pair, one was a tall, slim necked unicorn mare of a exceedingly light lavender color with a black mane tightly wound in a bun on the back of her head. She wore a simple but clean white blouse and a pair of saddlebags with the universal medical symbol of pink butterflies on them. The other pony was a ghoul, an earth pony stallion wearing a black suit over his patchy, scab covered red coat. He had a slicked back, oily blonde mane, and of the pair looked the most... put out. The lavender mare looked displeased as well, with her lips pressed thinly and her bearing stiff, but the ghoul looked frothing mad, baring his teeth at Nightbane as they arrived with the extra guards.
“What in the actual hell do you think you’re doing Nightbane? You just letting transients into the city now? There are procedures even someone like you has to follow!”
“Hey Afterglow,” said Nightbane to the lavender mare, ignoring the ghoul stallion, “We still on for dinner tonight?”
Afterglow glanced at him, moving a hoof to push away a strand of her black mane from her eyes, “Don’t be incorrigible Nightbane. Answer Center Stage. He has a legitimate point, you are breaking many agreed upon city rules by allowing those without proper passes or papers to freely enter the Wall. You could face serious repercussions for this action if you do not have good reason.”
“What other reason would I have? Money, of course!” said Nightbane with a grin, “These ponies are going to make me a lot of money. Money that’ll go right back into Gunner’s Heaven, among other places.”
He slid up to Afterglow, running a talon across her neck gently, which Crossfire noted despite the mare’s apparent attempt to appear disinterested caused her muzzle to tinge with a shade of warmth and her tail to flick once. The ghoul, Center Stage, made a gagging sound, rolling his eyes.
“You know how generous I am in funding Guild ventures Afterglow,” Nightbane said, finishing his quick caresse with a pointed wink, “Don’t worry, these ponies will have their papers soon, and with a sizeable donation made to the right authorities. Now, if you’ll lend your special touch, these ponies here could use your attention.”
Afterglow sighed and said, “Very well.”
As she moved over to the group, levitating out bags of Radaway, along with small potions of purple liquid Crossfire recognized with a lick of her lips as healing potions, Center Stage fixed his eyes on Nightbane.
“Those ‘donations’ better be pretty damned big,” the ghoul said in a low tone, “Gunner’s Heaven has a reputation, one I won’t let be tarnished by letting it be used as a damned smuggling point for transient outsider trash. Damned big donations!”
“Yes, yes,” Nightbane said with a wave of a wing, “Don’t you have an event to be running? Oh, and do have my private arena prepared for me, would you? I’ll have need of it soon.”
Center Stage looked as if he were about to go feral right there and then, but after a moment or two of impotently glaring at Nightbane the ghoul growled and turned around, marching away. As he did so Sandy, who’d spent most of this time nervously and ashamedly pawing at the dirt, raised her head and asked, “Miss Afterglow, do you require further guard or assistance as you treat these... ponies?”
“No, thank you Sandy, you and your squad may resume your posts. Nightbane is more than sufficient guard for me, and these ponies are nearly dead on their hooves anyway, I doubt they’re a threat.”
“Yeah... no threat,” said Sandy, rubbing at her neck where Crossfire’s bayonet had been. She gave her guards a few short orders and soon the armed ponies had dispersed back to patrolling the fence line or occupying the guard towers.
Afterglow’s horn was bathed in blue light that matched her eyes as she performed some impressive multi-tasking levitation by Crossfire’s reckoning. The Radaway and healing potions floated among the four wounded mares in a small buzzing cloud, along with medical equipment that sprouted from her saddlebags. Crossfire found an open bag of Radaway all but shoved magically into her mouth as a small flashlight shone in one of her eyes, then another. Before she could voice any protest Afterglow trotted past her towards Wellspring and Knobs.
“No talking, any of you, unless I ask you a question, in which case answer promptly and nothing else. If I float something to your mouth, drink it, no questions. Otherwise, stay still while I work.”
Crossfire let her words die on her lips and instead just sucked on the tangy, sour orange liquid that was Radaway. Meanwhile Afterglow approached Knobs and immediately started to undo the bandages on her severed limbs, already pulling out fresh bandages to replace the blood soaked ones. Meanwhile a combination of a large healing potion and two bags of Radaway were levitated to Knob’s mouth, the healing potion going down first, then the Radaway. Knobs sucked them down without complaint, indeed a dreamy, relieved look in her eyes.
“These wounds will require more than I can do here,” said Afterglow, her tone an even, professional calm, “You’ve lost entirely too much blood. Can you recall your name, young miss?”
“K...Knobs...” Knobs’ voice was weak and wispy.
“Good. Please try to remain conscious, if you could. I will need to take you to my clinic, now.”
“Is she going to be alright?” Crossfire asked, a nervous strain entering her voice. Beyond all of her wounds and the effects of radiation on her, Crossfire was simply reaching the limits of her general endurance. At this point she needed to hear some kind of good news. Unfortunately Afterglow’s unreadable, hardened features didn’t inspire confidence as she barely glanced at Crossfire, not even bothering to answer the question and instead looking to Wellspring.
“I will carry her with my magic. The rest of you are not in critical condition, so please walk, and follow me.”
With that she took up Knobs in her own magic, lifting Knobs effortlessly as bandages quickly wrapped in a flowing dance over her wounds. Wellspring didn’t complain, eagerly sipping down her own Radaway and a small healing potion, and Bruise was following suit, though the big burly mare was giving everyone and everything around her a look of undisguised contempt. Afterglow began a swift trot with Knobs towards the large building covered in shining lights, which Crossfire assumed was the center Gunner’s Heaven.
Without much else she could do Crossfire followed, slinging her rifle across her back.
----------
“Mare, you’re going to make someone think you’re planning a murder if you keep glaring like that,” said Nightbane with a casual grin as he entered the small room Crossfire had been ushered into. It had been less than an hour since Afterglow had brought them into the central building of Gunner’s Heaven. Crossfire hadn’t gotten much of a look at the place since Afterglow had almost immediately taken them to a side elevator once they’d entered a loud, smoky, dimly lit main floor that had been crowded with patrons. All she’d been able to tell about the main floor was that it seemed akin to a large bar or casino, built around multiple pits that patrons could gather around. Given the brief sounds of screaming, animalistic growls, and gunfire she could hear from those pits it wasn’t hard for Crossfire to guess what they were for.
The elevator had gone down rather than up, leading to a well lit of plainly furnished waiting area with several plush couches and a large desk where several waiting ponies had come to help Afterglow with Knobs, while another had looked over Crossfire, Wellspring, and Bruise, ultimately asking Crossfire to come to a separate room. She wasn’t sure why she’d been taken into a smaller room away from the others, but she had kept her complaints to herself as the mare that’d lead her here, whom Crossfire presumed was a nurse or some such under Afterglow, checked Crossfire over and patched her wounds. There was a fair bit of stitching involved, and cleaning of wounds, and all through the process the nurse mare, a short plain pony with a brown coat and mousey blonde mane, kept giving Crossfire barely contained looks of fear. Crossfire wasn’t certain why the nurse was scared of her until she caught a look of herself in the room’s only mirror. Covered in filth and blood, her visible hide cut up in multiple places, and her yellow eyes fixed in a permanent seeming glare, she looked more like an angry, vengeful spirit than a living pony.
Another half hour of stitching and cleaning, bag of Radaway, and a healing potion or two later Crossfire was feeling almost like a pony and not a member of the living dead. That was just physically, however. Inside she was a boiling mass of anger and worry, her thoughts spiralling onto a single point; Knobs’ survival.
Crossfire couldn’t get her mind off the teal unicorn mare. Knobs had done everything and more that a pony could do for Crossfire’s sake, from rescuing her off the road when they first met to risking everything to come save Crossfire from the gang in control of Knobs’ own neighborhood. Knobs had lost two of her legs, and might die, all because Crossfire had come into her life.
The debt Crossfire felt she owed Knobs couldn’t be expressed in words, and the fact that Knobs’ life still hung in the balance set Crossfire on edge in a way she’d never been before. So, yes, she was glaring when Nightbane strolled into the room she’d been resting in, and her tone matched the glare.
“Murder may well be on my itinerary,” Crossfire said, watching as Nightbane made himself comfortable in the small room’s one leather chair. The nurse had left just a minute or two before Nightbane entered, so the two of them were alone. Crossfire herself was resting on a remarkably comfortable and clean bed, not at all like the kind of stained pallets she was used to seeing in Wasteland settlements, and had seen in Knobs’ own shack in the Outskirts. Inner City ponies clearly lived better, that was certain.
“Skinner, how much did he get paid to sell us out to the Hammer Crushers?” Crossfire asked. Nightbane laughed, leaning back in his seat.
“What makes you think I know? That’s between Skinner and Spiked Heels. Oh, you boiling over that? You take things too personally. Skinner’s an old corpse, and like most of us that’ve gotten to a certain point in life, he’s realized a basic truth. A certain piece of life wisdom that guides anyone with a lick of sense in their heads. Caps. Caps are king. Money is what makes it all move.”
“Horseapples,” Crossfire said, “You expect me to forgive that leathery sack of pus because it wasn’t personal, but about money?”
“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Nightbane tapped a talon on the armrest of his chair, slowly cutting a light line on the leather, “Skinner doesn’t expect it, and doesn’t care. Far as he knows, you, Knobs, that Radio Guild mare, and even most the gangers that went into the sewers after you are dead. The Skull City sewers are dangerous, and even Skinner wouldn’t have an escape route through them if he didn’t know exactly where he could go to get away clean. He’d given you all up for dead when you decided to go down there. Why not make some caps off it? He’s sweet on little Knobbly Knees, but not so sweet that he wouldn’t make a bit of profit off her death. But, water under the bridge, as the old saying goes.”
“Like hell it is,” Crossfier growled, “Skinner, if I see him again, is a dead ghoul.”
Nightbane shrugged nonchalantly, pulling out a fresh cigar and lighting it up, “Not my business. Skinner and I are old buddies, but however you two work your issues out doesn’t concern me. What does concern me, Crossfire, is you and what you do from here on out.”
“Why? Aside from a single fight I owe you, you and I have no business with each other,” Crossfire said, but as soon as she was done Nightbane leaned forward, a widening grin on his beak.
“That depends,” he said, taking a drag on his cigar and blowing a few smoke rings her way, which she batted away with her hoof irritably, “You see, medical care isn’t cheap.”
Crossfire scowled, “You offered. Made a big scene out there about paying for things like patching us up and getting us papers. You extorting us now!?”
“Us? I don’t much care about the mares with you. It’s you specifically I’m interested in,” Nightbane clarified, “Let me lay it out for you. I’m happy to cover the immediate medical expenses you and your little team are incurring right now. I want you at your best when we fight. Long term, however, you’re going to need more financial backing. Without papers, or Guild membership, you, the big ganger mare, and the poor little mare who’s minus some legs are going to be shit out of luck soon as the Enforcer’s Guild finds you.”
“Isn’t Knobs part of some Guild? The same one Skinner’s a part of?” Crossfire asked, trying to recall what it was called. The Skull Guild? Yes, that was it. She thought it was a ridiculous name, especially considering the city was already named ‘Skull City’. Redundant. But maybe there was a reason for it.
“Not really. Your friend was Skinner’s apprentice, but that’s not an official ‘thing’ according to the Skull Guild. It was an informal relationship between the two of them. Once he thought the filly had learned her stuff, Skinner would’ve then taken her to the Skull Guild offices and gotten her proper tested and accepted, but before then, she’s just some Outskirts mare Skinner was playing teacher with; probably hoping to get a little plot action along the way.”
At Crossfire’s rumbling, throaty growl Nightbane held up his talons with a deflecting smile, “Hey, just calling it as I saw it. Skinner likes the smooth hides, and is a horny leatherfaced ghoul if ever there was one. Doubt he made a move, but also doubt he had Knobs following him around through those long, lonely patrol routes between settlements just out of the kindness of his heart. Point is, Knobs ain’t Skull Guild, was just training to be. So she’s as SOL as the rest of you, except for little miss Radio Guild. But Wellspring can’t help you too much I’m thinking. If she had enough Gella or caps hidden up her skirt she’d have already gotten word to her Guild and arranged at least day-passes for you outsiders. She hasn’t, she’s just been sitting on her hooves with the ganger mare, looking uncomfortable as a virgin on her first night out drinking. Thinking she’s in over her head and knows it. So, if you’re looking for help, she ain’t it. And the ganger mare’s as useless to you here as a sledgehammer at a tea party. So, if you want to get papers, if you want to keep your friend in medical care, maybe even replace her legs... you need me. You need what I can offer.”
“And that is...?” Crossfire didn’t like this, but she couldn’t deny that so far Nightbane had made all of the points he needed to keep her attention. Fact was, she was a broke, statusless stranger, with no influence or power, in a city that seemed to chew up, digest, and excrete those who didn’t have those things. If she wanted to help Knobs, to protect Knobs, she’d need power. She need influence. She’d need money whether it be caps, or Gella. This griffin might be her only route to any of those things, right now.
“Simple enough. I’m part of the Drifter’s Guild. I’m going to sponsor you joining the Drifter’s Guild. Normally that involves a test of aptitude, lots of paperwork, blah blah blah, but I’ve got that covered. Our upcoming fight in the arena is going to be your ‘aptitude test’ and once that’s done, long as you put up a competent show, you’ll be in. Once in, you work for me. Any job you do, I take a cut off the top. The benefit? You get Inner City citizenship, a place to put up your hooves, and the caps you need to pay your friends medical bills. You with me so far on this?”
“What about Knobs?” Crossfire asked, then after a second reluctantly added, “And Bruise? They need citizenship too, don’t they?”
“Aside from day-passes there’s also longer term, but temporary, passes for special circumstance cases,” said Nightbane, “Such a loophole is my trump card in case the Enforcer’s Guild figures out you folk are here. You see, Drifter’s can work alone, but also often work in teams. Often times those teams involve members that aren’t Inner City. Meaning I can claim the lot of you as part of my,” he made little quote gestures with his talons, “Team.”
The tone he said the word in Crossfire would’ve thought Nightbane considered ‘team’ to be a particularly foul kind of curse.
“So,” he went on, “What that means is that you join the Drifter’s Guild you can claim the ganger and little Miss Legless as part of your Drifter team. That’d give them special dispensation to reside in the Inner City, long as it was at a Drifter owned establishment. That answer all your questions?”
“Save one. Is caps all you’re getting out of this?” Crossfire asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of her voice. Given the pull Nightbane seemed to have around the Inner City it didn’t seem to her like money should be much of an issue for him. What was he really after? Nightbane didn’t give anything away with his confident smirk.
“Do I need motivation beyond having another Drifter owing me money on her jobs? How do you think I got the wealth I already do? By being satisfied, ever, with what I currently own? Alright, alright, how’s this for a motivation; I got a personal interest in you. I look at you and see potential. Could be I’m getting old, and feel like passing on some skills and wisdom to a younger up and comer. Leave behind a legacy before old age or bad luck takes me to my long nap in the dirt.”
“Fine,” Crossfire said, not believing him for an instant, “So assuming I say yes, what happens?”
Nightbane got up from the chair and put the tip of one of his talons on Crossfire’s chest, giving her a hard poke at a spot that was still rather sore despite the healing she’d undergone so far. Crossfire winced, and Nightbane smirked.
“You, missy, get some rest, and come morning suck down a few more healing potions. Then you come to my private arena where I get to bust you up all over again. Or maybe you’ll get the better of me. Either way, should be a good show for my private audience, and the top rollers in the Drifter’s Guild who’ll get to see just what you can do. Do me a favor, and make it good. Hate to think I’ll spend all night talking you up to them only for you to not even make me breath hard tomorrow.”
With that he turned to leave, swishing his thing whip-like tail and tossing his almost burned through cigar into a nearby waste bin.
“I haven’t said yes, yet,” said Crossfire, but Nightbane only laughed at that, and went out the door.
“Cocky old featherduster,” she muttered, glancing back at the bed. She was tired down to the marrow of her bones, and knew that Nightbane had the right of things; if she was going to tussle with him she needed to be in top form. But she had one thing she needed to do before she could get any sleep at all.
--------
Wellspring and Bruise were sitting on surprisingly nice, colorful couches at opposite ends of a waiting room outside the room Knobs had been taken into. As Crossfire entered from the hallway where her own room had been both the Radio Guild mare and the big ganger mare turned their heads towards her, Wellspring smiling hopefully at Crossfire while Bruise looked as if she had something sour in her mouth she wanted to spit out.
“I trust whatever you talked about with Nightbane went well?” asked Wellspring.
Crossfire looked at her with what must’ve been a sharper stare than Crossfire intended, because Wellspring winced a bit and added, “I only ask because he seemed pleased as he left, and to speak candidly... he’s the only reason none of us are dead of radiation poisoning or being shot by guards at this moment. He’s also the only potential source of getting the three of you day-passes, so the authorities don’t immediately throw you back outside the walls. I mean...” she wilted a bit, ears flopping down, “I could maybe afford one for Miss Knobs, but not all of you.”
“Its fine,” Crossfire said, “I made arrangements. Sort of. Me and Nightbane got something worked out. Any word on Knobs?”
Before anypony could answer the door to the supposed operating room opened and Afterglow marched out. She was as calm and collected as she was when Crossfire first laid eyes on her, which made it difficult to read if things had gone well or poorly for Knobs, given Afterglow neither appeared upset, nor pleased. Crossfire wondered if this was how the mare always looked; perpetually in control, and emotionally flat.
Bruise was first up, practically surging from her seat as she loomed over the doctor. Crossfire didn’t think the looming was needed, but perhaps Bruise was a mare that just loomed naturally, given she was built like a suit of power armor and a good head taller.
“She okay?” Bruise asked, her soft feminine voice contrasting with her appearance almost as sharply as the fear coloring it.
Afterglow didn’t blink, and only said, “She wanted to speak to all of you. I’ve made her as comfortable as I can.”
That... didn’t sound good at all. In fact it left a particularly lead-like feeling in Crossfire’s gut, as if the whole world just got heavier and the air harder to breath.
Bruise’s eyes dilated slightly, and Crossfire felt a similar light headedness as she took a step forward, “What do you mean by that? She’s alive, right?”
Afterglow just gave her a blank stare, saying, “For the moment. You may wish to go speak with her now, as I cannot say exactly how much time she will be available to speak to anyone. If you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”
The doctor strode away through another door, everypony else in the room too stunned to even bother trying to stop her or ask more questions. Crossfire’s mind was in a freeze, refusing to process information. Wellspring broke the heavy silence first, composing herself and walking past Crossfire and Bruise towards the door.
“Come, we can’t afford to waste precious seconds.”
That managed to snap past Crossfire’s mental lockdown, causing her to belatedly, like some robot on time delay, blink and wordlessly shuffle behind Wellspring. Bruise was bristling from mane to tail, a look of singular anger on her face that made it seem as if the mare intended to go into that room with the plan of punching out Death itself. Crossfire found herself agreeing that, in the off chance there was such a thing as a grim reaper pony, that Crossfire would happily join Bruise in beating the bastard into a pile of broken bones.
The room Knobs was in had dim lighting, though Crossfire could tell it was an adjustable light, the kind with a dimmer switch on the wall by the door. The room had multiple beds, and was filled with stands of medical equipment and cabinets of supplies ranging from simple cleaning alcohol to sizable, deeply purple healing potions. Why weren’t any of those potions enough? Had Knobs simply lost too much blood, been battered too much, or soaked up too much radiation?
Knobs herself was laying on her back in the nearest bed to the door, the teal mare looking quite small to Crossfire’s eyes, despite the fact that Knobs was technically taller than she was, or had been. Knobs was awake, sweat plastering her mane to her forehead as she turned to look at them coming in.
“Hey guys...” Knobs said, managing a small smile as the three other mares gathered around her bed, “... Sup?”
Crossfire didn’t really know what to say here, unable to pick words out of her head. Bruise was also oddly silent, and Crossfire noticed the big ganger mare blink, and then make a small nicker before hanging her head and looking at the ground so that nopony could see her face. Crossfire assumed the mare, who’d known Knobs longer than any of them, couldn’t face this situation.
Not that Crossfire was doing any better, she had a hard time facing that smile on Knobs’ face, only just barely managing to find some words, “Hey Knobs, you said you wanted to see us?”
“Yeah, figured I ought to... before... you know. Wanted to know you guys would be alright. Crossfire, you going to need a place to stay? You can have my shack if you want it.”
Crossfire found herself shaking her head back and forth, almost violently, “No. No I’m not taking your place, Knobs. I got arrangements. I’m going to be fine...”
“And there is certainly no need to worry for me Miss Knobs,” said Wellspring, “I may not be eagerly going into the Outskirts again for a time, but that is well enough.”
Knobs nodded, then went into a short coughing fit, which for some reasons struck Crossfire as odd but she couldn’t figure why. Knobs turned her head to look at Bruise, “How about you Bruise? You going to be okay? You can get back to you gang?”
Bruise, however, said nothing, she just had her head lowered, and her shoulders were shaking. Crossfire had a hard time looking at it, seeing the huge ganger mare sobbing like that. It pushed right past her own hastily held together emotional defenses, causing the first few tears to well up in her eyes. Knobs saw it and shook her head.
“No, none of that. C’mon guys, none of that. Everything’s going to be fine... you’ll see...”
Knobs voice became fainter, her eyes fluttering, and Crossfire found herself reaching out and holding onto the mare’s hoof, which was warm to the touch. Again something in Crossfire’s mind told her that something as odd, but she couldn’t pay attention to that, holding Knob’s hoof close and gripping it tightly.
“Knobs, I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head.
“Don’t be... no reason to be...” Knobs said, voice now barely at what one could call a whisper, “You’re a great... friend... forgive me... couldn’t help myself... opportunity... too good... to pass up,”
Crossfire blinked. That seemed like an odd thing to say. And wasn’t Knobs dramatically pausing a little too often? Crossfire looked at Knobs and felt the blood drain from her face as she saw Knob’s lips quirk in a tiny, amusing smile, as the teal mare turned her head, closed her eyes, and let out a long, long breath. Like somepony dying. Or more like trying to sound like somepony dying in overly dramatic fashion.
Then Knobs took another breath and let it out in another over-the-top dramatic death rattle.
Then she did it again, longer, more drawn out. By now Crossfire was seeing red, and grinning, and considering different ways to murder her best friend.
It was also at this point that Bruise, who’d been laughing the entire time, finally burst out in loud guffaws.
Wellspring’s mouth was agape, “Did she just...!? This was all a-!?”
Crossfire, still holding Knobs hoof tightly to her chest, looking down at her grinning and very much alive friend, and said, “Knobs, I am going to murder you!”
Knobs held up her other hoof defensively, now much more lively than her performance of seconds ago, “Hey! Hey! Don’t be mad! How could I pass this chance up!?”
“You just pretended to be dying!” Crossfire roared, overjoyed and royally pissed simultaneously and having no idea whether she was going to hug her friend close, or whack her upside the head. Probably both!
Bruise, tears in her eyes, but from her having to hold her laughter in while the prank had played out rather than sorrow, looked up and grinned ruefully, “Knobs, I don’t fucking believe it. You actually remembered?”
“Remembered what?” asked Wellspring, still looking bewildered.
Bruise grunted, finding her breath, “When we were bucking kids working one of the streets with a bunch of other street foals, Knobs and I made a bet on who’d get the best prank in on the other. Whoever won would have to be the other’s ‘slave’ for a month, y’know, kind of stupid bet foals make. We never agreed on who won.”
Knobs was smiling ear to ear now, “I win now right? You gotta do what I say for a whole month! Oh, I am having you cook me so many meals, and clean my laundry, not that I have a lot of laundry to clean, and... um... huh, you know I don’t really have a lot of chores that need doing but I’m sure I’ll think of something for you to do. In a maid outfit of course.”
Bruise stiffened, “I am not wearing a maid-”
“Ah, ah, ah, I won the bet! You can’t top a death prank Bruise. Ow, Crossfire, that’s my hoof. I kind of need that, I only got two of them now!”
Crossfire had twisted the hoof into a special Neighlesius’ military arm lock, one that didn’t really threaten the hoof that much, but certainly wasn’t comfortable, “Nope. I need to teach you a lesson about never doing this again!”
“Owowowow, hey! I’m still weak and injured here even if I’m not dying! Help! Nurse! Ow, c’mon Crossfire, don’t be mad! How many times in my life was I going to be in the perfect position to do that prank!? And it was for getting a month of maid service from Bruise!”
“We made that bet when we were, what, eight years old?” asked Bruise.
“Nine!” Knobs said as if that was the most important fact in the world.
A second later Afterglow put her head into the room, glaring daggers at all of them, “Will you lot keep your voices down? I do have other patients.”
“You were in on this!” Crossfire accused, pointing a hoof at the doctor’s snout. Afterglow didn’t even flinch, just giving Crossfire that same deadpan calm look.
“Your powers of observation are beyond compare. Yes, I was in on it,” said Afterglow with a humourless monotone... then smiled, “Because it was funny.”
----------
The next morning Crossfire was back in Knobs’ room. Knobs was looking much better from yesterday, but then, so were all of them. Bruise was snoring away in a different room, Crossfire able to hear the gargantuan rumbling snores of the mare even through the door as she’d trotted down the hall to check in on Knobs. Wellspring had left earlier, telling Crossfire she had to get back in touch with the Radio Guild before her friends there started to wonder what had happened to her. Wellspring had also said she would get back in contact with Crossfire as soon as she could in order to ‘make good’ on their deal. It’d actually taken Crossfire a little while to remember she had agreed to act as a sort of on and off bodyguard for the Radio Guild mare whenever she went out of the city to go story hunting. Crossfire herself had eaten a very small breakfast while cleaning her rifle using a kit one of the nurses had been nice enough to fetch for her. Her beloved Sniper Shark XR had taken quite the beating between her initial run in with Raiders outside Skull City, the run in with the Hammer Crusher gang, and the vicious battles in the sewers. The rifle needed plenty of TLC, but it was a rugged affair, built to deal with taking a beating in hazardous conditions. Crossfire cared for it reverently, oiling the barrel and breech and sanding out scuffs in the wood stock with the tenderness one might caress a lover.
Crossfire’s life had certainly gotten more complicated than she’d ever intended to. Looking at Knobs, though, alive and well, smiling away, made all the complications feel worth it. Not that Crossfire wasn’t working on thinking of a way to get Knobs back for the near-death prank. She was thinking something involving a cake and copious amounts of hotsauce might do the trick. The key thing would be to wait until Knobs least expected it. Maybe a few years down the road.
“You doing alright, Knobs?” Crossfire asked as she came into the room, sitting back on her haunches by the bed that Knobs was sitting up in, the teal mare slurping down some breakfast that consisted of a small salad that looked to be made from real greens and eggs of a questionable origin. Crossfire’s stomach grunted at her at the reminder of its purpose and Crossfire gave it a silent promise that food would be next on her agenda.
“Feeling pretty good,” said Knobs at Crossfire’s question, “I mean, minus the whole leg thing. Going to need a bit of time to get used to that.”
Despite Knobs upbeat manner and the sheepish smile she kept on, could Crossfire see the way Knobs kept looking towards the part of the bed where there ought to be a pair of hind legs. There was a poorly concealed fear in Knobs eyes that Crossfire could well imagine. Crossfire looked at the spot where Knobs’ hind legs should have been as well, not wanting to look away from the simple facts of the situation, nor spare Knobs what her options were. She owed Knobs that, and much more.
“I talked with Afterglow,” Crossfire said, trying to put a certain amount of enthusiasm and encouragement into her voice, “There are devices that exist for those who are in this situation. The simplest kind are little more than wheeled supports. They’ll help you get around easier, but things like stairs are going to be bitch.”
Knobs’ smile actually widened, “I saw an pre-war mag with one of those in it! Walk-O-Matics. They even had motorized ones that ran on coal. They look pretty neat.”
“There’s that. Afterglow told me she could get a set of those custom made, maybe for around a thousand caps, which she’s willing to put on our ‘tab’,” said Crossfire, then her eyes narrowed, an intense look crossing her features, “There’s also cybernetics.”
At Knobs confused look Crossfire explained, “Fully mechanical limb replacement. Is it not a common thing out here?”
“Is that common anywhere?” asked Knobs, voice filled with wonder, “I’ve heard rumors one of the S-Class Drifter’s has them, but I’ve never seen, or heard, of any normal pony with cybernetics. They can’t be available, right? There’s no way I could get them.”
“That depends,” said Crossfire, “If you got about fifty thousand caps or so, Afterglow tells me she can get her hooves on cybernetic replacements for you legs.”
Knobs laughed, “Fifty thousand? Sure, just get me back to my shack, I’ll bust out my hidden underground treasure vault. I knew drinking all that Sparkle-Cola was going to pay off big one day!”
“Right, so we’re kind of short on funds for that,” said Crossfire, but fixed Knobs with a serious look, “But it’s not impossible. I could work up that money, given time.”
Knobs quickly shook her head, reaching out a hoof and touched Crossfire’s shoulder as she looked Crossfire in the eyes, “You’ve done far too much for me already. I can’t ask you to spend who knows how long trying to pay for a pair of fancy new legs.”
Knobs eyes ceased to waver and a strong, steady calm settled over the mare, “I lost my legs. Simple as that. Bad things like this happen sometimes, Crossfire. I’ll deal with it. You shouldn’t pay for my mistake.”
“What mistake!?” Crossfire shot back, anger filling her from some damned up portion of her feelings that had been staying contained until now, “Out of all the ponies I’ve met so far in this shithole city you’re the only one who's done right! You took in a mare you didn’t know and didn’t have a reason to care about, knowing doing so might cause trouble for you. Then you went and tried to save that mare from an entire gang of ponies who will kill you if you go back home now! Don’t you get that yet, Knobs!? You can’t go home! Spiked Heels will have you killed if you go back. You can’t trust Skinner anymore either, so your plan to join the Skull Guild is also down the fucking drain! All this... all this, plus your legs... Knobs, am I worth all that? How can you sit there and say I shouldn’t pay for any of this? It’s all my fault. You’re life is in shambles because of-”
A hoof whacked Crossfire upside the head and it took the stunned mare a second to realize it’d been Knobs, who was now sitting with her hooves crossed over her chest, her cheeks puffed out in a oddly adorably mad look of her own.
“Geez, you done? If you’re plan is to just depress me this morning and make my breakfast taste bad you can take the pep talk somewhere else. I know everything you’re telling me, Crossfire. I know. I’m not dumb. I’m not a complete airhead. I know I can’t go back. I know I’m going to need a new job, one where being crippled isn’t going to be an issue. I don’t need my friend beating me over the head with all that. Or listen to her tear herself a new one for no good reason.”
She leaned forward, hooves coming up and pulling Crossfire’s forehead down to her own, careful to avoid each other’s horns, but bringing Crossfire close. Crossfire didn’t resist, just looking into Knobs eyes.
“Crossfire, none of this is your fault. It’s not your job to fix me. I don’t want my friend spending her life trying to make up for one bad thing that happened. Please?”
Crossfire at first felt like simply accepting Knobs words. It’d take a burden off of her heart and might well clear the air entirely of the heavy mood that’s settled over her. In every way Knobs was offering her a clear way out, to wash her hooves of responsibility, and begin what could be a long process of sorting her new life in Skull City out.
But Crossfire just couldn’t do it. Even with Knobs right there, all but begging her to. So Crossfire slowly held Knobs’ hooves with her own and gently pulled them away, “I’m going to do what I got to, Knobs, but if it’ll keep you from worrying I promise I’ll stop blaming myself for what happened to you. I’ll try to anyway. I still owe you a new set of legs, and that ain’t negotiable, so I won’t be hearing any complaints about it!”
Knobs laid back, poking at her breakfast and levitating a chunk of salad to her mouth, “Mmmph, fine, but, mmmm, gonna be mad if you do something dumb and get hurt. Wow, this salad is good. Inner City ponies get the best stuff.”
Crossfire, glad for a change of subject, asked, “Surprised you folk outside the Wall don’t get any, given how much pride gangers like Bruise seem to have taken in fighting off the Protectorate to keep your farmland.”
Knobs shrugged, “Not like we don’t get any, but fresh grown veggies are expensive, like I could save up and maybe eat something this good once a month. Most our farms don’t produce what’s gone into this food; fresh lettuce, tomatoes, carrots. Bet this is all from a greenhouse inside the Inner City. Nah, the farms mostly do stunted potato and wheat strains that can handle less sunlight and radiation. Or kelp. The river and our reservoirs got pretty big algae and kelp farms. Are, uh, things different in your homeland?”
Crossfire smiled, but it was small, tempered by the memory of how she’d left her home.
“Neighlesius doesn’t farm as much as Applehyde, we’re more known for our mines, but we did have some farms. I grew up on one. An onion farm, probably our most common kind. Don’t know what it was, but the onions we grew had adapted to the Wasteland environment. Still carried radiation in them, but nowhere near bad enough that you couldn’t eat them.”
“So you earned your cutie mark on the farm then?” Knobs asked, glancing at Crossfire’s cutie mark. Crossfire frowned, knowing that Knobs had already seen her... other cutie mark.
“Knobs,” Crossfire said in a warning tone. Knobs smiled innocently and held up her hooves.
“Hey, you can’t blame me for trying to lead you into talking about it! I’m still curious.”
“And I told you to forget about it,” Crossfire said, harder than she meant to, “These onions on my ass are the only cutie mark that matter to me. Anything else you saw might as well have been a hallucination, far as I’m concerned.”
Knob’s ears drooped a bit, “A real interesting hallucination that I’m gonna keep wondering about.”
“Well, wonder for as long as you want, just don’t ask about it,” Crossfire said, then after a hesitant second, decide that after everything that Knobs had gone through for her, she might as well give a little something to wet the other mare’s curiosity, “But I will say this much; I earned the onions, like anypony earns a cutie mark. The spell I cast doesn’t ‘cover up’ the other mark with the onions, it just lets the onions be seen, like opening a window. The other mark... I was born with that.”
Knobs blinked, “Born? Like, you came out with that blue gem thingie on your butt?”
“Yes.”
Knobs took a second to absorb that, her muzzle scrunching up as she thought it over, eventually concluding, “But, ponies don’t get born with cutie marks.”
“Right,” said Crossfire, “Which means it isn’t a cutie mark. It’s something else entirely.”
“What is it then?”
“And that where's the Q&A stops,” said Crossfire hastily, standing back up from her sitting position and turning towards the door, “I’m off to take care of business, but once everything is settled down I’ll be back to check on you. Don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Might take most the day.”
Knobs was frowning, snout still scrunched up, “Crossfire, be careful. I know you’re gonna fight that Nightbane guy, and... you probably got other things you’re gonna do. Don’t take any crazy risks. And please, I know Bruise is still pissed at you, and she might try to hurt you. Please go easy on her if that happens. She’s my friend, just the same as you are.”
Crossfire nodded slowly, very, very glad that Knobs had, unintentionally or not, forgotten to mention anything concerning Skinner.
“Don’t worry, Bruise and I will sort our problems like big, sensible adult mares. I won’t kill her. Can’t promise anything up until that point, but I won’t kill her. As for Nightbane and anything else... well, you’ve seen me fight. I’ll be fine.”
“Seeing you fight is why I’m worried,” said Knobs with a short laugh, and Crossfire shared in it as she turned and headed out the door.
---------
Crossfire found she was more or less free to wander on her own, once she left the underground clinic of Afterglow. She didn’t know where the doctor was, as there’d only been a few of those nurse mares hanging around when Crossfire had left, and she hadn’t felt like asking. Somehow Crossfire didn’t imagine Nightbane would be hard to find, or that he’d leave her to her own devices for very long.
Her prediction proved true, as it was less than half an hour after wandering out onto the main floor of Gunner’s Heaven that a pony approached her. She’d moved around the pits, not taking a seat at any of the numerous tables or booths set up around the steel circular spaces where many other ponies gathered to cheer and jeer at the fights taking place inside. Looking in Crossfire noted each pit was large enough to let a dozen or so ponies fight with plenty of room to spare, each pit seemingly set up with different ‘themes’. One looked like a wide, open sand pit, like some ancient coliseum, with old stone pillars set up at random intervals, or knocked over to give the impression of old ruins. Another pit was filled with fake vegetation, like a slice of a miniaturized forest, complete with pond in the center. The third pit resembled a high-tech sports ring, strangely bright neon lighting covering blocky artificial terrain set up like some foal’s notion of a video game landscape. The final pit, appropriately enough, was fashioned to resemble the Wasteland itself, with rusted metal sheets and barbed wire strewn about broken ruined houses or the husks of auto-wagons.
It was this final pit that Crossfire was observing, watching a trio of ponies in rugged assortment of leather and metal armor fighting for their lives against a pack of large, mutated reptilian creatures that Crossfire thought might’ve been those ‘radgators’ she’d heard about, when a pony in a clean black suit came up to her. He was a nondescript stallion, brown coat, white mane, all but blended into the foggy haze of the room.
“Crossfire?” he asked plainly.
She looked him over, shifted so her rifle would be easier to draw if needed, “Yes.”
He simply nodded, “Mr. Nightbane has requested you. If you’ll follow me.”
She nodded and without another word the stallion turned and led her through the crowd, towards the east end, opposite the entrance Afterglow had led them through yesterday where the railyard had been. The east wall looked to house Gunner’s Heaven’s main entrance, a wide set of glass doors that covered most the wall. Outside Crossfire could see busy, clean streets, almost like a normal city. Instead of going outside, however, the stallion took Crossfire to a bank of elevators along the wall to the left, just opposite a impressive looking set of guards wearing bulkier armor than the ones keeping an eye on things outside.
“You guys got security issues?” Crossfire asked, “Thought this Inner City was safe.”
The stallion’s reply was in a neutral tone that sounded forced to Crossfire’s ears, “Our establishment contains creatures for use in our games that are quite dangerous. In the event of a breakout no amount of security is too little for the safety of our clientele. There are also those who might forget to act as upstanding citizens, paying the establishment its due on bets, were there not proper visible incentives to honor one’s debts.”
That was the long way of saying ‘if ponies lose a bet and try not to pay, our bigs guns can convince them otherwise’.
The elevator went up, and Crossfire counted about four floors before it stopped. If she was remembering the size of the building about right then they were on the top floor of it. Beyond the elevator was a few clean, carpeted hallways, which Crossfire was led down, turning left, then right before coming to a door that looked like it didn’t belong in the more ‘normal’ surroundings; a solid, thick, mechanical steel door. There was a nine-key lock pad on the door, which the stallion used his hoof to quickly type in a six digit code to open the door. Beyond it was a room with one wall covered in monitors, each showing different views of Gunner’s Heaven.
A pony was sitting in a swivel chair in front of those monitors, leaning forward, grassy eyes unblinkingly focused on the monitors as they flicked between the various screens. The pony had a pale yellow coat, and a puffy, long, well groomed mane and tail the same grass green as... her eyes? His eyes? Crossfire looked at the pony more closely, unable to quite figure out gender. She(?) had some masculine facial features, a more squarish snout normal for stallions. But Her(?) figure was smooth and rounded, quite feminine, not that Crossfire really was an expert on such things. The pony’s cutie mark was a red arrow, climbing upwards at a series of angles, like a chart.
The pony turned as the door opened and upon seeing Crossfire and her stallion escort, the pony smiled broadly and got up from his(?) seat.
“Why hello there!” the voice was as ambiguous as the pony’s appearance, either belonging to a tomboyish mare, or a feminine stallion, “You must be Crossfire. Nightbane has talked quite a bit about you. Come here, let me have a look at you.”
The stallion that’d escorted her in remained at the door as Crossfire tentatively stepped forward, taking in the rest of the room. A short set of stairs led up to a platform where a large pair of double doors were sealed tight. Across from the door Crossfire had come in from was another identical door. Beside the wall of monitors there was a simple control station, a desk piled high with empty Sparkle-Cola bottles around a single note covered terminal, and a whiteboard where charts and graphs were written in many colors of marker, forming a disorganized mass of scribbles Crossfire couldn’t begin to decipher.
“Where’s Nightbane?” Crossfire asked, somewhat irritated, “I just want to get this over with, okay?”
The ambiguously gendered pony kept smiling, seemingly unperturbed by Crossfire’s mood, and walked slowly around Crossfire, pausing once or twice to rub his/her(?) chin with a hoof.
“Hmmm, yes, yes, you will do nicely. Great color scheme. Tasteful manestyle, rugged but still sexy. Simple but memorable clothing choice; red always goes good with black and I don’t care how many complain that it’s cliche. Distinctive weapon; most ponies won’t recognize it as a Protectorate gun, but even when it gets known it’ll just add to your mystique! A fallen enemy soldier, forced from her homeland, fighting for mysterious reasons! The crowd will eat it up. And even minus all that, you’ve got quite the body on you. Lithe, athletic, but nopony would ever mistake you for a stallion. Our straight crowd and fillyfoolers will definitely be after pics. How do you feel about pornogra-”
Crossfire’s hoof didn’t hit the other pony, but she did stuff it into the pony’s mouth to forestall any further words as she fixed a hard glare on him/her(?) and said, “If you want to retain the same number of teeth you currently have, don’t finish that sentence. Now, where is Nightbane?”
“Right here, kid,” said Nightbane as he came in through the door opposite the one Crossfire had come through, the griffin holding up a talon, “Easy there, stand down.”
Crossfire took a second to realize Nightbane had been talking to the stallion who’d escorted her in, the pony having drawn a pistol from inside his suit and aiming it with his mouth at her when she’d touched the yellow mare/stallion(?). If the ambiguously gendered pony cared about the touch he/she didn’t show it, instead grinning brightly at Nightbane’s entrance and pulling away from Crossfire as if the threat had never happened.
“Nightbane! I love what you’ve brought me! She’ll be perfect for our late morning block! Please tell me we can keep her! The look, the attitude, we’ll have ponies watching her from here all the way to the NCR!”
“Mane, we don’t have watchers in the NCR. That ‘President’ of theirs has a stick so far up her rectum she’d never let us broadcast in her ‘nation’,” said Nightbane with a chuckle, then looked at Crossfire with an apologetic grin.
“Sorry about Mane Event here. He can rub some ponies the wrong way upon first meeting.”
Crossfire blinked, then looked at Mane Event who was smiling and wagging his tail, “So you’re a stallion?”
“Sometimes!” said Mane Event, then his smile deepened, along with his voice, “I can be whatever you want me to be. Oh, but let’s not talk about me. You’re the star of the show this morning! Nightbane here tells me you’re willing to fight him in the arena! Wonderful! So few ponies are willing to step into a fight with Nightbane. Usually I’m stuck having him fight some Wasteland creature, or some poor criminals slated for execution. Both of which, while entertaining, tend to get boring, as Nightbane always wins, and no offense Night, the crowd knows what to expect from you.”
Nightbane shrugged, grinning, “Can’t help it if I’m good at what I do.”
Mane Event nodded, “You are at that. I do hope Crossfire here is as good as you say she is. Not that I expect you to lose Night, but I’ve taken the liberty of talking this match up last night and all morning, so some of our patrons are rather eager to see just what she can do.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less Mane, and I guarantee you this mare will put on a show. She might even beat me,” at Mane Event’s incredulous look Nightbane’s tone got serious, “Might, I said. Now, aside from our usual crowd, you made sure the ones I asked for are going to be watching.”
“Yes, yes, yes, don’t worry you’re pretty little head feathers Night,” said Mane Event, strutting over to his seat by the monitors again and plopping back into the seat, “Whiteheart will be watching for sure. Don’t know about Applegate, or Exorcist. You know how they are. One thinks she’s too good for us, the other couldn’t show emotion if you tickled her clit; assuming she had one underneath all that metal.”
“That’s fine, as long as one of them watches, and is willing to sign off on my girl here,” said Nightbane, walking up to Crossfire and giving her a quick once over look, “You ready for this?”
Crossfire gave the griffin a disgruntled stare, blowing out a hard nicker of impatience, “Can’t get this over soon enough. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me and this is just the start of it.”
“Got ammunition for that rifle of yours?” the griffin asked, rubbing the chin of his beak.
Crossfire grimaced, remembering that while she’d managed to scavenge some ammo down in that underground facility connected to the sewers, she’d blown through quite a bit of it. At her look Nightbane raised a talon and gestured with a thumb back towards the door he’d come from earlier, “Armory is right back there, I left it unlocked. Figured you’d need to stock up. Grab whatever you want. We even got a fair bit of the Sniper Shark’s special rounds.”
Crossfire’s ears twitched, and she tried not to sound too eager, but somehow figured the grin on her face was giving it away, “No joke? Where’d you pick up that kind of ammo?”
Nightbane’s feature’s darkened and his own smile was... predatory, “Souvenirs.”
That’s when Crossfire remembered this griffin had fought in the war against the Protectorate. He was, for all his casual manner, one of the S-Class Drifters that had by all the tall tales and spread rumor, been an absolute terror on the battlefield. There was no telling how many of her country folk had been killed by Nightbane, fellow Bayonet Corps members who he’d just admitted to looting their bodies to acquire his ‘souvenirs’. Crossfire’s own gaze darkened somewhat as she stepped forward.
“Generous of you to let me dig into your stock of hard won prizes. Don’t imagine any of the Sniper Shark’s specialized clips will surprise you then, you’ve probably been shot at by all of them.”
“That I have, though I got to admit the gas rounds are a bitch, and the burst shrapnel ones also a royal pain in my tailfeathers,” Nightbane said, then grinned, “Feel free to use any and all of them; it’ll make the show better. Once you’re kitted out, just come on into the arena.”
He motioned towards the big double doors and strode towards them will all the strength and confidence in his motions as someone about to do a dance they’d done a thousand times already, and knew the steps by heart.
“I’ll be waiting.”