Tainted Silver

by Bluecatcinema

On The Wild Side

Seeing Black Knight Paladin in Big Red's photo album had severely shaken Sterling.

'Of all the ponies I could've hitched a ride with, I wound up staying with a couple who were childhood friends with Black Knight Paladin.' He shuddered. 'Just my luck...'

Sterling was unable to shake off the implications of the discovery, and what it could mean for the future.

'It'll be be fine, Sterling.' He told himself again. 'Black is dead… but wait, if Red and Cherry were friends with Black, that means they're close to Shine Paladin, husband of Celestia. And since Black has history here, who's to say the Taskforce isn't keeping an eye on the place? What if they see me, and think I'm out to cause trouble? I'll be as good as dead...'

For the rest of the day, Sterling was miserable. He knew that the chance of the Taskforce suddenly descending upon Dodge Junction, guns ablazing, was small, but the fact the chance was there was enough to throw the fear of Faust into him. As he continued his work in the orchards, he found himself constantly looking over his shoulder.

At that point, he wasn’t sure whom he feared more: the Taskforce, or the Forefathers. He was certain neither one would be merciful to him, and despite all the years of training and experience, he wouldn’t be able to fight either one off forever.

As the day progressed, and Sterling returned to the homestead, out of the open, the feeling of fear and dread was soon replaced with the familiar sense of depression.

'What a mess this is...' He thought one afternoon, as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He splashed his face with water, half-hoping that he could wash away his troubles. 'It's getting more and more likely that just knowing me is going to land Red and his family in hot water. Maybe I oughta just leave now. Forget the money, I can just wing it with what I've got.'

Sterling's musings were interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

"Sterling?" Big Red's voice called from the other side. "Are ya in there?"

"Yeah." Sterling sighed, opening the door. "Sorry, didn't know you needed to use the facilities."

"Ah don't." Big Red declared. "But ah do wanna talk tah ya."

"What about?" Sterling frowned.

"Ah've noticed ya seem tah be a li'l... down lately." Big Red noted. "Is there sumthin' ya wanna talk about?"

"Not especially." Sterling said flatly. "It's just... kinda dull around here, to be honest."

"Dull, huh?" Big Red frowned, slightly incensed at having his way of life disparaged. "Well, Ah think Ah have a way tah liven things up. Me an' some a' the boys at Cherry's factory are havin' a li'l shindig. Even invitin' some a' the townsfolk. Maybe ya'd like tah come along?"

"...I don't know." Sterling frowned. "I'm not really a 'party guy', to tell ya the truth."

"C'mon." Big Red urged. "Ya need​ tah do sumthin' tah getcha outta this funk. Gettin' outta the house, havin' fun... Sounds like jest what the doctor ordered, if ya ask me."

"Well..." Sterling frowned.

"Did Ah mention that we'll be havin' the best cherry wine in Dodge Junction?" Big Red smirked. "Jest the thing tah drown the ol' sorrows."

The opportunity to dull his worries under a fountain of drink appealed to Sterling.

"...Eh, why not?" He shrugged. "Not like I have anything better to do tonight."

"Darn tootin'." Big Red grinned. "The party starts in an hour. Should give us jest enough time tah get ready, an' get over there."

"Yeah, sure." Sterling nodded. "Since I've already washed up, feel free to use the bathroom."

"Oh, ah will." Big Red chuckled.

Meanwhile, in another location, a target stood, await a crossbow bolt. The bolt embedded itself, not in the center, but off to the side.

“Ah, bucking dammit!”

The curse came from none other than Ricochet Hailstorm, a lanky red black-maned Pegasus with a Cutie Mark of a crossbow bolt (which changed direction mid-flight) and ice-blue eyes. He was a fellow Ouroboros, alongside Sterling and others who had participated in Project: Titanfall.

He was partaking in some target practice, but unfortunately, due to injuries he'd sustained during the attack on Canterlot, which consisted of a dislocated shoulder and a wounded wing, his aim was impeded.

"Come on, buckin' get in there..." Ricochet mumbled as he awkwardly reloaded the crossbow with his good hoof.

Ricochet took another shot, but his aim was off again. Then a pain erupted in his wounded shoulder.

“AUGH! Buck! Buck! Buck!” Ricochet gritted his teeth, clutching his hurt shoulder.

“Ricochet, what are you doing?”

Ricochet glanced over, as Loveless entered the shooting range.

"What's it look like?" Ricochet huffed, trying to shake off the pain. "I need to keep my skills sharp."

"Hmm, you may be right." Loveless noted. "I don't think I've ever seen you even miss before."

"Don't rub it in." Ricochet fired again, and missed again. "Buck!"

“Faust damn it, Ricochet, what did I tell you?!”

Ricochet and Loveless looked over in surprise, as none other than Doc came in. He hadn't changed much, still wearing his black robes and gray mask with gold markings, with the latest model voice-changer attached to the bottom.

“Doc, what are you doing here?” Ricochet frowned.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Ricochet.” Doc glared, his voice distorted by his voice changer. “I thought I gave you explicit instructions to not work your shoulder. That includes target practice!”

“You did, but I chose to ignore it.” Ricochet scoffed, “I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not.” Doc rebutted, “You took quite a beating back in Canterlot. I’m surprised that building didn’t break every bone in your body!”

“Heh, I've had worse.” Ricochet rolled his eyes.

“You should listen to Doc, Ricochet.” Loveless chastised. “He's our head doctor for a reason.”

“Whatever.” Ricochet shook his head. “Why don’t you go back to your secret lab and take care of that… whatever it’s name is.”

“For your information, that ‘it’ is a she.” Doc snarled. “And trust me, I would, but some idiot had to go and ignore my instructions, forcing me to leave her in the care of my ‘partner’, which I don’t like doing, so I can make sure you don’t kill yourself!”

"Did I ask you to be my nursemaid?" Ricochet scowled. "No! So don't volunteer! Go back to that 'partner' of yours. Bug him instead!"

“Ricochet, this isn’t like you.” Loveless frowned. “What happened to the happy-go-lucky Ricochet that we could tolerate?”

“Well, excuse me, but I hadn’t been in the best of moods lately!” Ricochet snarled. “Having a project you were a part of crash and burn will do that for you!”

“Really? You’re upset over Titanfall?” Loveless grimaced. “You are aware that the project was a ruse to have us kill innocent ponies, right?”

“Hey, I’m just the shooty shooty pain guy!” Ricochet growled. “I don’t ask questions!” He then scoffed. “Besides, that’s not the reason I’m mad, okay?”

“Really? What is the reason then?” Doc asked.

“...Have any of you noticed anything different when you were down in the Coils today?” Ricochet questioned.

"Well, things have been a little... roomier." Loveless admitted.

"The old place has become quiet recently-" Doc started.

“Exactly!” Ricochet growled, though the tone was more hurt than it was anger, “When I walked down to the Coils this morning. I was the only one there!”

“I’m failing to see your point, Ricochet.” Doc frowned.

“Think about it!” Ricochet snarled. “A year ago, the Coils used to be full of life! You, me, Loveless, Gridlock, Harlhooves, Nalik, Black Thorn, Solomon, that rich guy... Sterling…” His snarl turned to a sad frown, “This year, Black Thorn was killed by Nightshade, Nalik had his organs removed by the Deity of Death, Gridlock got shredded by an airship rotor, we don’t know what happened to Harlhooves, but I’m sure he’s dead… then Titanfall happened.”

"Yes, we've had a rough time of it lately." Loveless admitted.

"At least we don't have to deal with Solomon any more." Doc sneered.

"Hear, hear." Loveless agreed. "We should have kicked him out years ago."

"That's a nice way to talk about a fallen comrade." Ricochet snarled.

"A comrade who selfishly pursued his own agenda, endangering us all." Loveless scoffed.

“Hey, Solomon was an asshole, but he was still one of us!” Ricochet glared. “And now, he’s gone, and by the end of the month, Sterling will be too!”

“That’s right… Father gave Sterling that ultimatum…” Doc shook his head, “And yet another one bites the dust…”

“Hold on a moment.” Loveless growled, “You two act like Sterling isn’t going to come back.”

“He abandoned you all in the middle of a mission.” Doc frowned, “And ran off to Faust knows where.”

“And if I remember right, you told me that Sterling said he was ‘done’.” Ricochet recalled, “Like as in clearing out his desk done.”

“Look, Sterling was angry. Solomon used us all to harm a lot of innocent ponies.” Loveless explained, trying to defend him. “I’m sure he just needs some time to cool off.”

“Loveless, Ricochet and I heard all the talk about Sterling these past several months.” Doc frowned. “How he's changed since Project: Maelstrom. Somehow, I doubt this is a matter of him needing to ‘cool off’.”

"Sterling will return." Loveless insisted. "This place is his own. And we're the closest thing to family he has."

"And yet, he ran out on us." Doc retorted. "I'm guessing he doesn't exactlyreturn your sentiment."

“Shows what you know.” Loveless grunted. “Sterling will come back. He has to. He can’t honestly expect to run from the Forefathers for the rest of his life.”

“Really? Didn’t stop Jetstream, did it?” Ricochet scowled.

“Ricochet!” Doc gasped, appalled.

“You leave him out of this!” Loveless snarled.

“Why? This is Jetstream all over again!” Ricochet growled. “I may not be the smartest pony in this room right now, but I remember exactly how it happened back then, and right now, it's happening again with Sterling.”

“Except it won’t end the same way!” Loveless yelled. “I have ponies looking all over for him! I just need to talk to him! If I can do that, I can bring him home!”

“Loveless, we both know how much you care for the boy.” Doc nodded solemnly, “But I fear this is something you won’t be able to fix. I don’t think Sterling intends on returning.”

“Yeah… he's gonna be sleeping with the fishes.” Ricochet glanced away, his eyes a bit misty. “And I really liked Sterling…”

“Ricochet…” Loveless began… before sighing. “Look… I have to try… I already lost enough ponies I cared about, and I don’t intend to lose Sterling.”

“I’m sorry, Loveless, but I’m afraid I won’t be holding my breath.” Doc shook his head, “But since we are on the topic of losing ponies…” He quickly nabbed the crossbow out of Ricochet’s hoof.

“Hey!” Ricochet yelled.

“You'll get this back once your shoulder healed properly.” Doc said firmly, “I don’t want to catch you out here again til then.”

“But what I am supposed to do then?!” Ricochet snarled. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing!”

“Look, you said so yourself, our numbers are dwindling.” Doc rebutted. “It would do you no good to further injure yourself. And I don’t want to take time out of my schedule to babysit you.”

"Urgh, fine." Ricochet groaned. "At least it'll get you off my back."

"Good." Doc smiled. "Happy healing."

Doc left the target range.

"I should be getting back to my workshop." Loveless declared. "I hope you get better soon, Ricochet."

"Hey, Loveless." Ricochet said awkwardly. "Sorry about what I said before. You know, about Jetstream-"

"It's okay." Loveless smiled. "It was in the heat of the moment. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

As Loveless left the room, his smile dropped.

'Oh, Sterling.' He thought. 'I hope you see sense and come home soon. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about...'

Back in Dodge Junction, Big Red and Sterling prepared to depart.

"We'll be back later, darlin'." Big Red kissed Cherry goodbye.

"You two have fun." Cherry smiled. "But not too much fun."

"I'll sure try not to..." Sterling rolled his eyes.

"And why exactly can't we go?" Eclipse asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready to party!" Huckleberry added.

"Sorry, kids." Big Red chuckled. "But the party we're goin' to is adults only. And yer still minors in mah book, so ya can't come."

"Aw, jeez." Huckleberry pouted.

"I'm okay with that." Globe shrugged. "Large crowds kinda make me nervous..."

"Small and medium-sized crowds make you nervous." Huckleberry sneered, earning himself a slap on the head from Eclipse.

"Don't wait up, kiddos." Big Red declared.

"Yeah, later." Sterling shrugged.

Big Red and Sterling departed the homestead, heading for the cherry farm owned by Cherry's family.

"So Cherry has her own orchard too?" Sterling asked.

"Oh, yeah." Big Red nodded. "Our families have been in business together fer years. But Cherry's farm has a ton a' workers hired to tend to the cherries. And since me an' Cherry are married, the workers see me as part a' the family. Kinda why they invited me tah this shindig."

"How nice for you." Sterling mused. "You sure have a lot of friends, Red."

"They could be your friends, too." Big Red urged. "It all depends on how this evening's gonna go."

"I came out here to forget my worries, not make friends." Sterling said flatly. "Besides, I already told you I won't be staying in town long, so making friends would be pointless."

"If ya say so." Big Red sighed. "C'mon, the party's bein' held in one of the warehouses."

Big Red led Sterling around the back of Cherry's family cherry farm, to the warehouse where cherries were stored before shipping. Since the work day had concluded a few hours ago, the warehouse would be empty, making it suitable for a party to be held within.

As Big Red and Sterling entered, they were greeted by a few dozen ponies (mostly workers).

"Big Red!" They cheered collectively.

"Howdy, guys and gals!" Big Red waved.

A makeshift bar had been formed on one end of the warehouse, with crates being used as chairs and table. The partygoers were happily imbibing some cherry wine, fresh from the barrel.

'Not bad.' Sterling thought. 'Not the swankiest party I've ever seen, but it looks like it'll get the job done.'

"Hey, Red!" One Earth Pony stallion, possessed of a light green coat, red mane, brown eyes, and a Cutie mark of a root, smiled.

"Hey, Stalk." Big Red grinned.

"Glad ya could make it." Stalk smiled.

"Like I'd pass up a chance to have fun with you guys." Big Red chuckled. "This is Sterling, by the way." He indicated Sterling.

"So you're Sterling Cross?" Stalk mused. "We've heard a little about you from Cherry and Red. Nice to see you in the flesh at last."

"Of course it is." Sterling shrugged. "Nice shindig you've got here."

"It may not be some fancy Canterlot event, but we do our best." Stalk said humbly. "Hope you have a fun evening."

"Yeah, me too." Sterling shrugged.

"That's the spirit." Big Red slapped Sterling on the back. "Now, let's get us some lickwid refreshment."

"Gladly." Sterling nodded.

As they made their way to the wine barrels, Big Red received more greetings from his fellow party goers.

"Yo, Red!"

"Glad you could make it!"

"Good to see ya, big guy!"

'Somepony's popular...' Sterling mused.

As they reached the barrels, they crossed paths with Wrangler.

"Well, whattaya know?" Big Red smiled. "Didn't expect tah see ya here, Deputy."

"I felt I'd earned a night off." Wrangler nodded.

"Darn tootin'." Big Red grinned.

"Howdy, Sterling." Wrangler smiled. "Nice to see you again."

"Ugh, you didn't bring Sheriff Hard-ass with you, did ya?" Sterling cringed.

"No." Wrangler shook his head. "I don't know if you've noticed, but he isn't exactly a 'party pony'."

"Oh, I noticed." Sterling smirked. "Him not being here just made this night a little more enjoyable."

"While I don't like your tone, I do agree with the sentiment." Wrangler admitted. "Marshall does tend to be a, er... Party-pooper."

"He is a li'l stiff sumtimes." Big Red shrugged. "But he can pretty fun once he gets goin'."

"I'll take your word for it." Sterling snorted.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a lovely mare waiting for me." Wrangler indicated a beautiful Pegasus mare on the other side of the warehouse.

"Then don't let us keep ya." Big Red chuckled. "An' good luck."

"Thanks." Wrangler grinned as he moved across the warehouse.

"Good fer him." Big Red smiled. "Every stallion deserves tah be with a decent mare. Wouldn't ya agree, Sterling?"

"I don't know about that." Sterling frowned.

"Oh, yeah?" Big Red smirked. "Never say never."

After pouring themselves some cherry wine, Big Red and Sterling took a moment to enjoy their drinks.

"Mmm, not bad." Sterling noted.

"Yep." Big Red nodded. "Not as good as mine, but a close second."

"Definitely worth a refill." Sterling grinned, emptying his tankard.

"Lemme take care a' that." Big Red offered. "That'll give ya time tah mingle."

"Gee, thanks." Sterling reluctantly handed over the tankard.

"Be right back." Big Red grinned.

As Big Red headed back to the barrels, Sterling looked around. He wasn't particularly interested in mingling with the crowd.

'I'm sure they're a nice bunch, but I'm in no hurry to get to know any of them.' Sterling thought. 'Or drag any of them into my nightmare of a life.'

"Sterling?'

Sterling turned in the direction of the familiar, melodic voice, and found himself face-to-face with Shooting Star.

"Hey there, stranger." Shooting Star smiled.

"Oh, hey, Star." Sterling smiled.

"Been awhile since we last saw each other." Shooting Star declared. "I was starting to worry that you'd up and skipped town."

"Not just yet." Sterling snorted.

"Lucky for me." Shooting Star smiled. "So, how ya been?"

"Right now, not so good." Sterling shrugged.

"Ohhh, poor baby." Shooting Star cooed. "Maybe if you tell me what's ailing ya, you'll feel better."

"Somehow, I doubt it." Sterling retorted. "No offense, but I don't feel comfortable sharing my troubles with anypony. Even a pony as sweet as you."

"Wow." Shooting Star blushed. "Way to compliment and push me away at the same time."

"I'm sorry." Sterling sighed. "But you don't want to burden yourself with my problems, especially not right now. This is a party, after all."

"And you call me sweet." Shooting Star stroked his cheek.

Sterling closed his eyes for a moment, losing himself in the softness of her touch.

"If you ever change your mind, I'll be ready to listen." Shooting Star smiled.

"I know." Sterling nodded. "But for now, you should enjoy the party."

"I plan on it." Shooting Star smiled.

Sterling watched as Shooting Star melted back into the crowd, a lovestruck smile on his face.

"A-hem."

Sterling turned around once again, seeing Big Red carrying two full tankards, and a wide smirk.

"Not exactly the kinda mingling Ah had in mind, but it's still awful sweet." Big Red chuckled.

"I'm only gonna say this once: drop it." Sterling said firmly.

"Suit yahself." Big Red snickered. "Here." He passed the tankard. "More cherry wine."

"Mmm, that's the stuff." Sterling smiled. "As long as there's plenty of this stuff, I'm not going anywhere."

"Ah sure hope not." Big Red chuckled.

As the evening wore on, Sterling and Big Red knocked back more and more cherry wine. As they did, Sterling found himself getting drunker and drunker.

"Hey, Stalker." He suddenly grabbed onto the stallion after his eighth tankard. "Great shindig, huh?"

"Yeah, it is." Stalk said awkwardly. "And the name's 'Stalk'."

"Tomato, potater." Sterling slurred.

"...How much wine have you had?" Stalk frowned.

"I dunno." Sterling shrugged. "Don't have enough hooves to count."

"Okay..." Stalk eased out of Sterling's grasp. "Well... catch ya later."

"Yeah, ya will!" Sterling grinned.

Another few tankards later, Sterling climbed on top of some crates.

"Hey, party ponies!" He yelled to all and sundry. "You having a good time? I know I am!"

"Yeah!" The crowd cheered.

"Let's kick up a notch!" Sterling started dancing. "Ohh, ohhhh!"

"You go, Sterling!" Shooting Star whooped, having imbibed a few tankards of wine herself. "Shake that cute flank!"

"Crowd surf!" Sterling leapt onto the the party-goers, who eased him along, eventually planting him at Big Red's hooves.

"Ah think ya've had enough, li'l buddy." Big Red hiccuped, just as drunk as Sterling.

"Look who's talkin'." Sterling belched. "You look even redder than usual."

"Don't be silly." Big Red slurred. "Ah've bin drinkin' this stuff since Ah wuz old enough tah. Ah've built up a... whattaya call it... tolerance!"

"I'm no slouch myself." Sterling swung his tankard, spilling the contents. "I know when I've reached my limit, and I'm not there yet." Sterling made to drink out of his tankard, but it was empty. He tilted his head back, drunkenly believing there was still some in there, but fell backwards. "Ow!"

"Okay, that's enough fer one night." Big Red chuckled goofily. "Time tah get ya home."

The two of them stumbled back to the homestead at close to midnight.

"Home, sweet home!" Big Red cheered, swinging the door open so hard, it banged against the wall.

"There's my couch." Sterling stumbled over to the living room. Along the way, he tripped, crashing onto the couch itself. "Easy, old girl. I know you missed me..."

"Red? Sterling?" Cherry walked down the stairs, awakened by their crashing around.

"There's mah darlin' sweet Cherry!" Big Red embraced his wife as she reached the ground floor. "Ah love ya so much!"

"Ooh, how much have you had?" Cherry gagged at the smell of Big Red's breath.

"Not too much." Big Red smirked. "Sterling wuz a total lightweight. A few tankards, and he went wild. Really made himself known out there."

"Which is funny, because I'm trying not to be seen." Sterling called, still spread out on the couch.

“...Wait, what?” Cherry frowned.

“Yeah, I'm tryin' to lay low.” Sterling giggled dimly. "They're watching me, y'know..."

“...Who exactly is watching you?” Cherry asked.

“Pop-pop and his tail-eating snakes!” Sterling giggled, “They're the ones secretly running the world! And we're all wearing invisible horseshoes! It's a conspiracy, I tell ya!”

“...I think you should really get some sleep.” Cherry declared.

“Will do!” Sterling smiled drunkenly.

"Come on, you." Cherry sighed, trying to direct Big Red's bulk up the stairs. "Off to bed."

"Okay, heart-sweet." Big Red slurred. "Night, Sterling!" He turned to Cherry. “He’s one int’restin’ guy, ain’t he, Cherry?”

“Yes… very interesting…” Cherry muttered.

"Hey, night..." Sterling chuckled. "Night, night, night..."

Sterling fell asleep mere moments after Big Red and Cherry went upstairs. The next morning, he awoke with a monster migraine.

"Oh, Faust, my head..." He groaned, the sounds of birds chirping feeling like icepicks drilling into his skull. "Why did I drink so much buckin' wine?"

"Ya wanna keep it down?" Big Red called from upstairs, also nursing a huge hangover. As he walked down the stairs, he cringed at the thumping noise of his hooves hitting the wood. "Ow, ow, ow..."

"Musta been some night." Sterling sighed. "I barely remember a thing."

"It wuz." Big Red chuckled. "Who sez we country ponies don't know how ta live?"

“...I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?” Sterling asked.

"Well, that depends on what ya think 'stupid' means." Big Red smirked. "Does 'pop-pop and snakes' ring a bell?"

"Pop-pop?" Sterling frowned. "Snakes? I don't remember any of that."

"Count yerself lucky then." Big Red chuckled.

Big Red made his way to the kitchen, leaving Sterling to ponder just what had transpired while he was under the influence. Not to mention focus on his pounding headache...

'Boy, I am wrecked...' Sterling thought, wincing as Big Red walked by. 'I must've been a real party animal last night. I'll bet Ricochet would have been proud...'

Many years ago...

A few days had passed after Sterling's falling out with Solomon. At the moment, the electrical terror didn't seem interested in taking things any further, his only attempts at feuding being arrogant sneers and cold glares whenever they saw each other in the gym.

It was a tenuous cold war, with Sterling having more important things on his mind than escalating the conflict.

’I’m sorry that things had to turn out this way,’ Sterling shook his head, as he pounded the training dummy, ’But Loveless was right. Solomon is not a guy I want in my corner. That's one mistake I won't be making again.’

For the next couple of weeks, Sterling continued his training and his missions, thinking as little about Solomon as possible.

One night, after a particularly exhausting mission (involving stalking and running down a bunch of thugs who were trashing some of their smaller bases of operations), Sterling practically fell onto his bed.

'Just gonna sleep for... a couple a' days...' His drowsy mind mumbled.

As Sterling started to drift off to sleep, he was suddenly shocked awake by the muffled, yet still very loud, sounds of rock music, interspersed with rowdy cheering.

"Huh, what...?" He groaned. "You gotta be kiddin' me..."

Sterling grabbed his pillow and wrapped it around his head, trying to block out the noise. But it wasn't enough.

"Ah, for Faust's sake..." He growled.

Sterling got out of bed and exited his room, following the noise to its source. The source turned out to be the cafeteria, where dozens of agents were partying, drinking, singing along to the music, and generally making as much noise as they could.

'Okay, this has to stop.' Sterling thought angrily. 'Just gotta find the head idiot here...'

Fortunately, Sterling didn't have to look far. Most of the partygoers had centred around a lanky Pegasus stallion, boasting a reddish coat and a wild black mane, a Cutie Mark of a crossbow bolt (which changed direction mid-flight) and ice-blue eyes, who was whooping at the top of his lungs.

"Aw, yeaaaah!" The stallion cheered, waving a tankard of cider in one hoof. "Whattaya say, guys? Do I know how to throw a party, or what?"

"Whooo!" The crowd blared.

"Hey, party guy!" Sterling yelled as hard as he could. "You mind keeping it down? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

If the stallion had heard Sterling, he showed no signs of it.

"Let's crank this party up to eleven!" He declared.

The crowd cheered harder than ever.

"Oh, that's it." Sterling snarled. "Guess I'm gonna have to convince him up close and personal..."

Realizing he couldn't push his way through the crowd, Sterling climbed onto one of the tables, and tried to jump over. His sleep-deprived mind caused him to miscalculate the distance, and he ended up falling on top of the crowd, rather than over it.

"Gotcha!" One of the partiers chuckled, as Sterling found himself caught and held up by them.

"Hey, crowd-surfing!" The stallion smirked. "Great idea!"

The stallion leapt into the crowd, who hoisted him up. Both the stallion and Sterling were pushed around the sea of ponies.

"Put me down!" Sterling yelled, struggling to escape. "Put me down right now!"

The crowd granted Sterling's wish; They dropped onto the floor.

"Ugh!" He grunted in pain. "That is the last straw." He clambered to his hooves. "All of you, knock this off right now! I've had a long day, and this party of yours is not helping me to sleep, so put a stop to it, now!"

"Fat chance!" One stallion sneered.

"Yeah, get lost, ya party-pooper!" Another threw the contents of his tankard at Sterling, soaking him.

“UGH!” Sterling groaned, his coat drenched. “What the buck?!”

“Sorry, dude, the ponies have spoken.” The stallion smirked, still surfing the crowd. "If ya can't get with the program, the door's right over there, pal."

The crowd made their agreement with the stallion quite clear.

"Beat it!"

"Get outta here!"

"Buzzkill!"

"This isn't over." Sterling said through gritted teeth as he left the cafeteria. "Not by a long shot..."

Sterling returned to his room, and (after what seemed like an eternity) finally managed to get to sleep. The next morning, he was still exhausted.

'Somepony is gonna pay for this...' He thought angrily.

After breakfast, Sterling raced through the corridors, determined to report the ruckus... only to realize he had no idea where to go to report it.

'Well... I guess I'll try the Coils.' He mused. 'I know I'm not strictly speaking allowed up there, but something's gotta be done about those clowns...'

Sterling headed up the same path Loveless and Jetstream had taken him on his first day there, making it a point to avoid those dreaded escalators. He stopped when he reached the statue with the hoof panel.

"Oh, great." He cringed. "Forgot about that thing. But I didn't come all this way just to give up.."

Sterling started pounding on the wall beside the statue.

"Anypony in there?!" He yelled. "I got a problem that needs fixing!"

Sterling received no answer, but kept striking the wall. To his relief, the wall suddenly opened up. But his relief turned to shock when she saw the hooded form of Father emerge from the passageway.

"F-Father!" Sterling yelped, bowing quickly.

“Sterling, what a surprise.” Father mused. “It has been a while since we last spoke, hasn’t it?”

“Um, yes, sir… I have been very busy.” Sterling nervously murmured.

“Mind if I ask what brings you here, knocking on the door to the Coils?” Father asked.

“Look, I know I'm not supposed to be here, but I wasn’t sure who to go to about complaints.” Sterling admitted.

“Complaints, hmm? I assume this has to do with this ‘problem that needs fixing’?” Father questioned.

“Yes, sir.” Sterling cringed, “But I don’t know if you would want to concern yourself with this kind of problem.”

"I'll be the judge of that." Father declared, “I've been meaning to set up a pony resource office, but who has the time nowadays?” He then stepped aside, gesturing Sterling down the passageway to the Coils, “Now… tell me about this problem you have.”

"Well, uh... last night, I couldn't get to sleep because of all this noise." Sterling explained sheepishly, feeling like a foal tattling to a teacher. The two began making their way down the passageway, "So I went to investigate, and what do I find? This wild party going on in the cafeteria."

“A party, you say?” Father repeated.

“Yeah.” Sterling scowled, “I was trying to get them to shut it down, or at least keep it down a bit, but they wouldn’t listen! Instead, I got splashed with booze! And there was this one stallion, this drunken, rabble-rousing excuse for an agent, just fobbed me off. Him and those other drunken idiots just kept on partying. I had no choice but to try and sleep through it. I barely got a couple of hours sleep."

"I see." Father nodded, as they entered the main area of the Coils. All the chairs were seemingly empty, gathered around a just as empty table.

“Hey, where is everypony?” Sterling frowned.

"Attending to an... important matter. All due respect, but it's not one I'm at liberty to divulge to the lower ranks." Father said tersely. "Please, continue."

"Well, now I can barely see straight, just because some moronic, drunken inconsiderate party boy decided to have a little shindig, with the volume turned up past eleven." Sterling growled.

"My, that is an unfortunate turn of events." Father declared. "Wouldn't you agree, Ricochet?"

It was at that moment that one of the chairs turned around for the big reveal… at least, it would if the chair swiveled like that.

“Dang it. Give me a moment.” A voice called out.

The same chair suddenly lifted off the ground a little bit, as it awkwardly turned around, revealing, to Sterling’s horror, the stallion from the previous night.

“You!” Sterling gasped.

“Hey, Mr. Buzzkill!” Ricochet smirked cockily, “How ya been?”

"Wh... wha..." Sterling stuttered. "What the buck is he doing here?"

“Well, Sterling, this is Ricochet Hailstorm. He is one of the Ouroboros.” Father revealed.

"Him?" Sterling gaped. "But he's-"

"I believe your words were 'moronic, drunken inconsiderate party boy'." Father recalled.

“Hey, only four of those five things are actually true.” Ricochet pouted.

“But with all due respect, sir…” Sterling murmured, as he yelled. “Why?! Why would you make a drunk an Ouroboros?!”

"Don't be so quick to judge, Sterling." Father smiled. "There is more to Ricochet than meets the eye."

"More?" Sterling cringed. "I can barely take what I've seen so far..."

“Hey, lighten up, man!” Ricochet glared. “There’s no need to be an ass!”

“You kept me up!” Sterling snarled, “Who the hell throws a party in the middle of the night?!”

“I believe I can answer that.” Father stepped in, “You see, Sterling, Ricochet is who we would consider to be the rally captain of this organization. With all the deaths and setbacks the Forefathers inevitably face, it is up to Ricochet to keep the morale high, so that we continue to strive.”

“Yeah, what he said!” Ricochet agreed.

“And the best way to raise morale is to get drunk and make a bunch of noise?” Sterling growled.

“Believe it or not, it actually works.” Father admitted, “Ricochet’s parties and get-togethers always does the trick to keeping our spirits up. The party that Ricochet just threw last night was to commemorate a successful infiltration of a secret RDL research bunker, a goal we have been seeking for quite some time.”

“You should've come, Father, it was a blast!” Ricochet chuckled, before faking a silent whisper and gesturing to Sterling. “Aside from you-know-who over here.”

“Hey, I don’t care why he threw a party.” Sterling snarled, “I lost hours of sleep because of him!”

"You shoulda stuck around." Ricochet smirked. "A few drinks, and you'd've gone to sleep in no time."

"And got a hangover the next day?" Sterling frowned. "I wouldn't have been much use if there was a mission? And neither would any of those other idiots."

"Dude, why ya gotta be such a downer?" Ricochet snorted. "You gotta loosen up."

"Have you forgotten what our purpose is?" Sterling shot back. "We can't 'loosen up' if we want to get the job done!"

"So we should just work, work, work all the time?" Ricochet rolled his eyes. "Boy, you really wanna suck the fun outta everythin', don't ya?"

"Shut it, ya-!" Sterling started.

“Settle down, you two.” Father declared. “I can see now that you two may have gotten off on the wrong hoof. Fortunately, I have a way for you to reconcile your differences."

"And... What way is that?" Sterling asked warily.

“Well…” Father began, as he turned to Ricochet, “Ricochet, didn’t you have that business in Bahrein to attend to?”

“Um, yeah.” Ricochet admitted.

“In that case, I want Sterling to accompany you.” Father declared.

"...Wait, what?!" Sterling gaped.

“Aw, do I have to?” Ricochet moaned. “He sounds like a total bummer.”

"Again, with all due respect, what are you thinking, sir?" Sterling asked.

"I'm thinking that I have a mission that requires both your skills." Father announced.

"He has skills?" Sterling glared at Ricochet. “This guy?”

"Dude, not cool." Ricochet pouted.

Father brought both Sterling and Ricochet to the operations room.

"Over in Bahrein, there is a royal vizier by the name of Bactreus whom our organization assisted with a… sensitive matter." Father declared. "However, Bactreus has not settled the debt which he owes us. All our previous attempts to receive remuneration have failed. Now, I need the two of you to go to Bahrein, and ‘convince’ Bactrean to settle the debt once and for all. Should he refuse… you both know what needs to be done.”

"I think I can handle a little debt-collecting mission myself, sir." Sterling declared.

“Dude, I was the one given the mission. I could do it with my eyes closed, wings bound, and one hoof glued to my cajones!” Ricochet boasted.

“As ‘amusing’ as that sounds, it would not hurt to have strength in numbers.” Father said lightly. “Sterling here is a capable low-ranked agent, and you… well, you’re an Ouroboros for a reason. So this is a two-pony mission, clear?”

“Aw, man…” Ricochet groaned.

"Seriously, sir?" Sterling sighed.

"Those are my orders." Father said firmly. "Now, go carry out my will."

"...Yes, Father." Both stallion said meekly.

"Great." Sterling groaned, as he and Ricochet exited the Coils. "Stuck on a mission with some cider-swilling clown."

"Watch it, dude." Ricochet growled. "I don’t like abusing my powers, but I'm still your superior. So about you keep that trap of yours shut, ya dig?"

"Oh, yeah." Sterling said sourly. "I 'dig'..."

"Cool." Ricochet nodded. "Glad we got that straightened out. Now get your butt ready. We leave on the next airship! No snoozing now!”

“Right…” Sterling walked off, “You buckin’ jackass…”

Sterling made his way to Loveless's workshop, picking up some refills for his crossbow, and filling Loveless and Jetstream in on the situation.

"What were you thinking, kid?" Jetstream scowled. "You should've come to us before you made an ass out of yourself like that!"

"I didn't think you guys had the authority... no offense." Sterling shrugged.

"None taken." Loveless admitted. "Even so, you could have handled it better."

"I wouldn't have even gone up there if I knew it meant having to go on a mission with that drunken idiot." Sterling snarled.

"Ricochet can be... eccentric." Loveless admitted.

"That's one way of putting it." Sterling growled. "How that guy got to be an Ouroboros, I'll never know..."

"Well, the thing about Ricochet is-" Jetstream started.

"Somepony say my name?" Ricochet entered the workshop. "Hey, rookie, time to fly."

"Yeah, yeah..." Sterling muttered.

As Sterling headed out of the workshop, Jetstream approached Ricochet.

"We're expecting keep a close eye on Sterling." He declared.

"My thoughts exactly." Loveless added. "That young one means a lot to us."

"So you'd better bring him back in one piece." Jetstream glared.

"Relax, guys." Ricochet smirked. "It's me, remember?"

Ricochet strutted out of the workshop, leaving Loveless and Jetstream with identical looks of worry on their faces

Having boarded the airship, Sterling and Ricochet travelled to Bahrein, a small country not too far from Saddle Arabia.

"Check out all the sand." Ricochet smirked, as they neared their destination, watching from the deck. "Like one big beach... minus the water."

"What a great observation." Sterling snorted. "I really hope Bahrein is a dry country..."

"No such luck, dude." Ricochet chuckled. "They really know how to party here. Speaking of which..." Out of seemingly nowhere, Ricochet pulled out a bottle of beer, breaking the bottle cap off the deck’s railing.

“Are you seriously drinking right now?” Sterling gaped, “On a buckin’ mission?!”

“Geez, dude, relax!” Ricochet frowned, as he took a sip from the bottle. “It 'll take a lot more than this bottle to get me drunk!”

"That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence." Sterling snarled.

"Hey, I've completed more complicated missions with way more drink in me." Ricochet boasted.

"Great..." Sterling groaned. "So, what was this 'sensitive matter' the Forefathers helped Bactreus with?"

“Oh, we whacked off the sultan.” Ricochet said nonchalantly.

“...What?” Sterling gasped.

“Hey, don’t freak out, man.” Ricochet soothed, “The guy was a real party-pooper. All work and no play. Makes all of Bahrein a dull boy. Kinda like you, actually.”

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sterling snarled angrily. "So what, did the sultan not have any next of kin?"

"He had a kid, but that boy's way too young to take the throne." Ricochet shrugged. "So Bactreus is in charge for the next decade or so. He was supposed to pay us a buttload of Bits from the treasury vault, but he hasn’t paid us jack crap.” He then chugged the rest of his beer. “That’s where we come in. We’re going to make sure he pay his tab… one way or another.”

"Yeah, 'we'..." Sterling said under his breath. 'The way things are looking, I'll probably have to do all the work myself.'

The airship landed in a private airfield. The two stallions disembarked, and made their way through the streets of Bahrein.

"So, whattaya think of the place?" Ricochet asked. "Sandy, right?"

"I grew in Haygypt." Sterling pointed out. "I've seen sand before."

"Well, aren't you hard to impress?" Ricochet opened another bottle of beer.

"Another one?" Sterling frowned. "How many is that now?"

"Eh, I forget." Ricochet took a swig.

'I don't believe this...' Sterling seethed.

Soon, the two came up to a glorious marble and gold palace.

"Not too shabby." Sterling mused. "Hard to believe the guy's short on cash."

"He will be when we're through with him." Ricochet declared. “I’m planning on charging extra for stiffing us.”

“Let’s just get inside. Hopefully you’re not too drunk to sneak in?” Sterling scowled.

“Dude, I may drink a lot, but I can be as stealthy as a platypus in a fedora.” Ricochet boasted.

“Yeah, sure…” Sterling rolled his eyes.

“Oh, wait and see, brudda.” Ricochet chuckled.

The two stallion sneaked around the back of the palace, artfully avoiding the guards. Much to Sterling’s surprise, Ricochet was able to back up his boasts, being able to slip through the area like a snake.

'So he does come with volume control...' He admitted grudgingly.

Once they reached the rear of the palace, they climbed in through a window.

“Ya see? Told ya I can be stealthy.” Ricochet smirked.

“And a broken clock is right twice a day.” Sterling rebutted. “Now, where do we go to find our new ‘sultan’?”

"Bactreus's study is right around the corner." Ricochet announced. "The scoop says he usually chills in there around this time of day."

"Well, he won't be 'chilling' much longer." Sterling sneered.

They two neared the study, and, both sharing a nod, kicked the door open. The two charged into the room, confronting a twin-humped camel in red and black robes with a matching turban, and a black, curled beard.

“What in blue blazes?!” The camel gaped.

"Hey there, Bactreus." Ricochet smirked. "Long time, no see."

"R-ricochet." Bactreus gulped.

“...Wait, you two know each other?” Sterling frowned.

“Yeah… forgot to mention… I was kinda the guy who whacked off the sultan.” Ricochet said sheepishly.

“And you did a marvelous job!” Bactreus complimented falsely, as he inched towards a hanging tassel. “A truly-”

"Don't even think of calling for your guards." Sterling held up his crossbow. "Or I'll really give you something to shout about."

"Why don't you take a seat, big guy?" Ricochet insisted.

"Oh, okay." Bactreus gulped.

"Look at this swanky place." Ricochet mused. "You must be livin' it up in here, huh?"

"I... I do okay." Bactreus cringed.

"Thanks to the Forefathers." Sterling growled. "And what gratitude do you show them? None."

"If this is about my payment, I can assure you, it's on its way." Bactreus insisted. "I just need some time to sort out the royal treasury, cover my tracks-"

"Look, Bactreus..." Ricochet started walking around the room. "Out of all the ponies Father could've sent to talk to you, he sent me, and I'm probably the chillest guy around."

"That's an understatement." Sterling muttered.

“Seriously.” Ricochet continued, ignoring Sterling. “I hang out with a bunch of scary dudes everyday. I mean, next to me, there’s a madpony in a wheelchair, a mad doctor, a mad swordspony, a mad politician, and… well, a big guy who’s just mad.”

“Hold on, Loveless and Jetstream aren’t-” Sterling was about to protest.

“The point is… you drew the frickin’ lottery with me, pal.” Ricochet smirked. “I’m willing to forgive your little ‘slip-up’ and forget this ever happen… all we want is a little… what did my boss call it… ‘remuneration’, for our services.”

"And I keep telling your agents that I will pay you when I get the chance." Bactreus insisted.

“Dude, that's not gonna work.” Ricochet shook his head. "You say you'll pay us when you get the chance, but the Forefathers have been giving you chances for months! I mean, how hard is it for a sultan who has access to the royal treasury to pay off 50,000 Bits?”

“50,000?” Bactreus gaped. “I thought it was 30,000!”

“It was. But we had to charge a late fee.” Ricochet crossed his hooves. “I mean, do you realize how hard it was to whack off that fat ass sultan of yours? I mean, you told us we had to make it look like an accident, or ‘natural causes’. I must've fired a crap-ton of poison darts, but that lardo moved fast!”

“Um, Ricochet…” Sterling frowned.

“After that didn’t work, I had to fly back all the way to Infinity to pick up a cobra from the labs. That was a whole bunch of paperwork!" Ricochet continued. "Then I had to fly back to Bahrein, slip back into this palace, and plant the snake in his room! Then I had to wait a few more hours for the snake to bite the fatass, hoping that the sultan didn’t kill it first-”

‘Ricochet, could you please get to the point?” Sterling grunted.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Ricochet cringed, as he turned to Bactreus. “The point is, it took us forever to do this job, but you got what you wanted. You're now the sultan. You should've paid us right there and then… but no… here we are again, asking you to pay the bill. Is it too much to ask for you to pay us?”

"Look, I've been meaning to pay you." Bactreus insisted. "But I've just been really busy. Running a country is a lot harder and more time-consuming than I thought..."

"Come on, dude, all we want is to be paid." Ricochet sighed. "You don't even have to pay it all up front. We could arrange a payment plan-"

"And how do you think it's going to look if the money mysteriously vanishes from our vaults?" Bactreus growled. "They'll think I ordered the sultan dead!"

"That's because you did!" Sterling grunted in annoyance. "I can care less about your shady political crap, but you owe the Forefathers money, and if we don't get it... well, let's just say Bahrein is going to have two sultans assassinated.”

Bactrian stepped back in fear.

"Whoa, dial it back, bro." Ricochet declared. "No need to scare him."

"He's a politician." Sterling glared. "A corrupt one. That is trying to stiff us. Forgive me if I don't really care for the guy. I've seen enough of his kind over the years to know that you can never trust slime like that."

"Now, now." Bactreus frowned. "There's no need for prejudice. I'm actually a pretty nice guy, once you get to know me. Here." He walked over to a drinks cabinet and poured them some drinks. "Some of my best cactus juice. Enjoy."

"Now there's some nice hospitality." Ricochet grinned, as Bactreus handed him a glass. "Thanks, dude."

"Yeah, real nice of you." Sterling frowned as he was given a glass.

"It's the least I can do." Bactreus smiled. "You did come all this way. Such dedication to your cause must be rewarded."

“I’ll drink to that!” Ricochet knocked back his glass.

“I think you’ll drink to anything.” Sterling muttered, about to drink his glass…

Suddenly, Ricochet threw out his hoof, stopping him.

“What the-” Sterling frowned.

“I wouldn’t drink that, bro.” Ricochet cringed.

“Why not?! You just did!” Sterling protested.

“And it tasted like crap!” Ricochet stuck out his tongue in disgust, “Bactreus put way too much cyanide in the juice!”

"Cya-what?!" Sterling dropped his glass.

"What the- how are you not dead?" Bactreus gaped. "You drank it!"

“I’m with the camel, what the buck?!” Sterling yelled.

“Ah, one of the things about me that you don’t know.” Ricochet smirked, “You notice how after six bottles of beer, I’m still sober?”

“...Um… no.” Sterling admitted.

“Oh.” Ricochet drooped, before smiling again. “Well, it’s a long story. Before I met the Forefathers, I answered this ad to volunteer for a lab experiment. I needed money to buy booze and all that. I’ll spare you all the details regardin' what happened there, but I came out with this nifty little ability: immunity to practically every poison, toxins, or anything chemical that could kill me.”

“No way…” Sterling murmured.

“Yes way!” Ricochet chuckled, as he pulled out another bottle of beer. “I was shocked at first myself… but after drinking about 16 shots of vodka and not dying of alcohol poisoning, let alone not being drunk one bit, I realized I could drink about anything. I once dropped a gallon of Poison Joke sap.”

“Wait, a gallon?” Sterling asked.

“Yup, from a milk jug.” Ricochet smirked. “I still don’t remember where I got it though. I don’t even do drugs.”

“Oh, to hell with this!” Bactreus snarled.

Bactreus pulled a nearby tassle, invoking a gong sound.

“Aw, crap.” Ricochet and Sterling cursed.

Seconds later, a group of guards burst into the room.

"They tried to assassinate me!" Bactreus declared. "Kill them!"

"Time to go!" Sterling yelped.

"Ooh, chase sequence!" Ricochet chuckled.

The two stallions leapt out of a nearby window, running across the palace grounds and into the city, the guards in hot pursuit.

"Up here!" Sterling pointed to a wall.

"Good call!" Ricochet grinned.

They climbed up the wall and leapt onto the roof of the nearest building. But the guards kept coming after them.

"Time for a little parkour action!" Ricochet proclaimed.

"Par-what?" Sterling frowned.

"Just follow my lead!" Ricochet urged.

Ricochet raced across the rooftop, leaping as he raced the edge. Displaying incredible agility, he landed on the rooftop of the building next to it.

"Come on!" He urged.

'He's crazy.' Sterling cringed. 'But better crazy than dead...'

Sterling followed Ricochet, the two leaping from roof to roof. The guards weren't quite as agile, some falling onto the markets stalls below, others barely managing to cling on to the edge of the buildings.

"We've on the home stretch now!" Ricochet cheered.

As they leapt onto the next building, Ricochet crashed through the wooden roof. Sterling, barely a second behind, could do nothing but fall after him.

"Oh, buuuuck!" He closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable impact... but instead landed in a pool of water. "Huh?"

Sterling opened his eyes, and saw that they had landed in what seemed to be a bathhouse, a group of female camels and ponies in skimpy dancing outfits surrounding them.

"Well, hello, ladies." Ricochet grinned, as he leaned against the side of the pool. "Somepony up there must like us."

"Uh... hi." Sterling blushed. "Don't suppose you know a back way out of here?"

"Right over there, handsome." One dancer pointed.

"Thanks." Sterling smiled, as he hopped out of the pool. "Come on, Ricochet."

“Oh, come on, can’t we-” Ricochet protested.

“Now!” Sterling yelled.

“Oh, buzzkill…” Ricochet groaned, as he turned to the ladies, getting out of the pool. “Next time, ladies!”

As they rushed outside, they rounded a corner, finding a dead end. They attempted to go back the way they came, but found themselves surrounded by more guards.

"So much for our escape." Sterling cringed.

"And to think, we left a bunch of hot chicks for this..." Ricochet cringed.

Bactreus suddenly emerged from the crowd, being carried on a portable throne by two guards.

“Well, I must admit, you gave my guards a good game of cat and mouse… but the time for play is now over.” Bactreus smirked.

“Unbelievable…” Sterling growled. “Why the hell did you call upon our services if you weren’t going to pay us?”

“Yeah, kinda counter-productive, don’t ya think?” Ricochet frowned.

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t believe you Forefathers to be anything more than a bunch of fanatics.” Bactreus sneered. “Just deluded cultists who'd do anything for attention… but clearly, I underestimated the severity of your delusions.”

“...I don’t know what you said, but I think you just insulted us.” Ricochet scowled.

“No matter.” Bactreus crossed his hooves. “It's a shame that we couldn’t have spent more time together. I was thinking of asking the Forefathers to off the sultan's kid before he got old enough to take the throne."

"Killing a kid?" Ricochet frowned. "Not cool."

“Yeah, that’s bucked up!” Sterling snarled.

"Like I care what you think." Bactreus snarled. "Now... time to die."

The guards closed in on them.

"I'd say it was nice knowing ya, but it wasn't." Sterling told Ricochet.

"It ain't other yet." Ricochet declared. "Get down!"

“Get down? What for-” Sterling tried asking…

But then Ricochet pushed him down. Quickly, he pulled out two crossbows, and squeezed off two shots. The two bolts seemingly went past the guards, and way off course.

“Ugh… you missed!” Sterling groaned, as he was about to get up.

"Wait for it..." Ricochet smirked, stopping Sterling.

One of the bolts bounced of a lamppost, then a pot, and flew back towards the guards, slicing clean through the throats of three of them.

"What the?!" Sterling yelped, as the guards collapsed.

“What’s going-” One guard was about to ask… only for the other bolt to go through the back of his head, the sharp end sticking out his forehead.

“AH!” Bactreus gasped.

“Ah, hold your gasps, Mr Sultan.” Ricochet smiled with a gleam in his eyes. “That was just the warm-up.”

With the swing of both his crossbows, squeezing both triggers as he did so, bolts began flying everywhere.

To Sterling's awed observation, the bolts bounced off pots, lampposts, street signs, tables and more.

'What the...?' Sterling thought, dumbstruck.

One bolt glanced off a hanging sign, and embedded itself in a guard's chest. Another two deflected off two vases, catching a pair of guards in the skull. Another bounced off a traveller's water canteen, hitting a guard through the eye.

A final pair of bolts ricocheted off a display of pewter tankards, ending their journey in the necks of the guards holding up Bactreus's throne. As they collapsed, the throne dropped with them.

"Ahh!" Bactreus yelped, as he tumbled to the ground.

Soon, all the bolts were embedded in the walls, in the ground, or in the bodies of the now dead guards. Sterling got up, stupefied.

'Holy buck...' He gaped.

“What, did you think high tolerance was my only gimmick?” Ricochet smirked, seeing Sterling’s shocked look. “I ain’t called 'Ricochet' for nothing!”

“Oh no… oh no…” Bactreus shuddered, as he slowly got from his now broken throne.

“So… whattaya saw now, B?” Ricochet sneered.

“I… I guess I was a bit too hasty.” Bactreus quivered, “Maybe we could renegotiate. Would you like your payment by check or-”

“Sorry, pal, I’m afraid we’re past that.” Ricochet glared. “It’s a shame, really. If you'd only just paid us…”

“But you said you’re the… what was it you said… ‘chillest’ pony around.” Bactreus whined.

“Yeah… I might've fibbed a bit.” Ricochet chuckled darkly, “You see, you should've held out for the guy in the wheelchair… because honestly… I'm pretty mad myself.”

“No… no…” Bactreus stepped back in fear.

“So… not only will we take twice the amount you owe (plus late fee), but we'll also take a little extra…” Ricochet held up one of his crossbows. “Your life.”

“No!” Bactreus ran off into the streets, “Nononononono-”

“He’s getting away!” Sterling yelled.

“Not for long!” Ricochet smirked.

Ricochet aimed his crossbow behind him, and fired. The bolt bounced off a pan hanging from a merchant's stand, arced off a bystander's canteen, and embedded itself in the back of Bactreus's head.

"Ugh!" Bactreus grunted, before collapsing, dead.

The ponies and camels in the street froze in horror at the sight of their slain sultan.

"Bullseye." Ricochet grinned.

"Whoa." Sterling gaped. "That... that was... amazing! I've never seen somepony with such great aim!"

"Well, sure." Ricochet put away his crossbows. "Why d'ya think I'm an Ouroboros? Because of my good looks?"

"...Okay, I'll admit I may have underestimated you." Sterling said curtly. "You're alright, Ricochet."

"Thanks, dude." Ricochet grinned. "Y’know, ya ain’t half bad yourself. I saw how you ran back there. Wheels and Jetty’s been good to you!"

“You really think so?” Sterling smiled.

“Damn straight!” Ricochet laughed. “Just wish we got into a street brawl or something. I hear you can throw a punch!”

“Aw, I’m not that good.” Sterling said humbly, recalling the incident with Black Knight.

“That’s what they all say.” Ricochet chuckled.

As they walked through the streets, avoiding the crowd, Sterling spoke up.

"How do you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?" Ricochet frowned.

"Be so positive." Sterling clarified. "With all the deaths and questionable things we do in this line of work. How do you do it?"

"Eh, I just try not to worry about it." Ricochet shrugged. "The partying helps, too."

Sterling wasn't certain that was the full answer, but his newfound respect for Ricochet led him not to question it.

“So, I guess we better get back to the palace and collect the debts, then head for home.” He declared.

“Whattaya sayin’?” Ricochet asked, “We ain’t due back for a couple hours. Just enough time for us to get a few drinks at the local tavern!”

“What about the money?” Sterling questioned.

“Dude, that’s why I’m an Ouroboros.” Ricochet chuckled. “I can just get other ponies to go get it. Besides, we earned this!”

“But I’m only seventeen.” Sterling frowned, “I’m not allowed to drink yet.”

"You are in this country." Ricochet chuckled. "Trust me. I know the drinking age of every country in the world, just in case."

"...Well, I guess a couple of drinks won't hurt." Sterling shrugged.

"That's more like it." Ricochet sniggered. "We'll make a party stallion out of you yet…"

“Maybe…” Sterling smirked as the two walked off.

A couple of hours later, Loveless and Jetstream were awaiting Sterling's return.

"I still don't think this was the best idea." Loveless frowned. "I trust Father's opinions, but even so... Ricochet may not have been the best option for Sterling to partner with."

"No kidding." Jetstream scowled. "Who knows what that drunk moron could've done to him..."

"Hey, guys!"

Loveless and Jetstream turned to see Sterling, flat out drunk, being carried by Ricochet down the corridor.

"Sterling?" Loveless frowned. "Are you... drunk?"

"Got it in one, wheel-teach." Sterling slurred. He turned to Jetstream. "Nice to see you too, sword-teach."

"Uh... hey, kid." Jetstream said awkwardly. "Good mission?"

"Great mission!" Sterling hiccuped. "Boy, am I beat. I think I'll head off to bed..." He trotted down the corridor, then turned in the opposite direction. "Whoops, wrong way..."

Both Loveless and Jetstream glared at Ricochet.

"...What?" Ricochet asked.

"You got Sterling drunk?!" Loveless snarled.

"I don't know why I'm surprised." Jetstream shook his head.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" Ricochet scoffed. "I brought him back in one piece, didn't I?"

"Well... yes." Loveless admitted. "Albeit a tipsy, shambling piece."

“If you ask me, I did ya guys a favor.” Ricochet smirked, “I got the kid to loosen up. And all it took was a few mixers, some schnapps, a little brandy...

“Oh, Faust, he’s going to be miserable tomorrow.” Jetstream cringed.

“You’re welcome.” Ricochet grinned. “If I ever want a partner again, Sterling’s my man!”

Ricochet walked off, but not before letting out one ‘Woot!’.

"I think we should try to keep him and Sterling apart in future." Loveless frowned.

"Ditto." Jetstream scowled. “...And I call not helping Sterling in the morning!”

“Dammit!” Loveless cursed.

Meanwhile, Sterling finally reached his room, once again tumbling onto his bed. This time, he fell into a deep, blissful sleep. But he was in for quite a headache when he woke up...

Comments

[Diamond_Dancer]

“Pop-pop and his tail-eating snakes!”

This sounds like a jazz band.

Loved this chapter.