Fallout Equestria: Cultivation

by LilithGalac

Tense Meeting

I’m… not in the best of places right now.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept in about thirty hours.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m bleeding from a pretty serious wound in my stomach.

Could be a lot of things, really.

My eyelids flutter open, squinting up at the sun directly above me. My heart is pounding, but hey, at least it’s beating. I keep feeling myself jostled up and down, sending sparks of pain up and down my spine. I can feel something rough and scratchy pressed against my face, and a tightness around my abdomen.

Glancing down, I can see the ground moving beneath me.

My eyes finally adjust, and I realise where I am- On that griffon’s back! I can see bandages wrapped around my middle, the left side stained deep red… But at least not actively bleeding, still. I feel a weird fuzzy numbness all up my side, but I can’t quite get my mouth working to ask what that is.

Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I drift back into unconsciousness, feeling myself drifting on a cloud of fuzzy, numb bliss.

---

My sleep is uneasy. I briefly feel myself wake up, but everything is dark and cramped. Something whirrs and buzzes around me, but before I can properly realise what’s going on, I feel a blinding pain in my side, and my consciousness leaves me.

And then I’m finally awake.

Jolting up, I’m immediately met with white-hot agony in my side, making me scream in shock.

“Hey hey now, stablehorse! Don’t go and hurtbreak yourself!” Swing rasps from my bedside, sitting up with a grin. I glance over at her, wincing at the sight of bandages wrapped around her feathered head, her eyepatch sitting over them comfortably.

“... I-I’m glad you’re okay.” I manage.

While she probably is the reason I got shot, at least she saved my life after the fact. Can’t really get catty at her for that…

The griffon grins eagerly, nodding and crossing her arms.

“Oh yes, noble stablehorse. It’ll take more than a headbullet to keep this birdqueen down!” The griffon laughs hoarsely, slapping her knee. I… have no idea what to say to that, instead glancing around at the room I woke up in.

The place is… dimly lit. There’s sunshine outside, but most of it is hidden by boards hastily nailed over the windows. The mattress I’m laying on is on the floor, pushed into the corner. I can feel a spring poking my back, but can’t quite adjust myself out of the way.

“... Is this your place?” I ask, carefully. The griffon shakes her head, slapping her talons together.
“Not at all, stableho-”
“It’s mine, ya damnable idiots!” Comes a shout from the doorway. The voice is… odd. Young, and with an odd accent I can vaguely place in some old pre-war recordings from the stable. It’s like a combination of Trottingham’s common accent and the thicker drawl of northern Trotland, but like… angrier.

With a wince, I slowly sit up to properly see who spoke- A unicorn filly. Probably no older than fourteen, with a soft blue coat and a short, messy black mane. She wears a pair of large, circular glasses, cracked and worn with age. She… doesn’t look happy as she storms over, glaring up at Swing.

“Ye best be payin’ for the sighthole ye broke, stupid griffon!” She demands, glaring up at Swing, who simply pats the filly on the head. What on earth is a sighthole…?

“Now now, littlehorse, I’m more than happy to pay my honourdebts! I simply needed a safeplace to rest my stablefriend here.” She says, with a grin.

“Ach!” The filly shouts and throws up a hoof in my direction.
“Searchlight and his lads were braggin’ about shootin’ ye and some idiot Stabledweller, and you go and bring her here? Ya moron!” The filly shouts, stomping a hoof irritably.

“... Y-your home is very nice.” I stammer. May as well try and build a rapport…

“No it isn’t, ya moron.” The filly grunts, pushing Swing out of the way to look at the bandages wrapped around my midsection.

“Hmm. Seems the docbox is workin’ as intended, good. Dummy tests spat out nothin’ but severed limbs.” She murmurs. I blanch, my head spinning as I remember my briefly cramped moment of consciousness. I was in a… was that an autodoc? Gods, how am I alive?

I decide to speak up again.

“L-look, my stable… i-it’s on its last hoof. A month at best before the reactor shuts down for good. I have two weeks to get some stuff from this town, and get home, so we can like, not all lose the only home we’ve ever known.” I quickly stammer. The young mare silently stares at me, letting me continue.

“I-if you can just let me stay, just for a little while, I-I’m sure we can sort something out. Please.” I plead.

The filly glares up at me.
“I... suppose I can house ye fer a time, but ye better pay yer way!” She grunts, slapping my stomach, making me yelp.

“I-I can help with uh, stuff. Dad taught me a couple things back in the stable.” I say, with a meek nod. The filly seems to accept that. Best not tell her most of those things are the best way to get a strike.

“Downpour. And ye are?” She asks, bluntly.

“This stablehorse is named Seven-Ten Split!” Swing interjects, with a grin.

I glance around the room, and my heart suddenly drops as I realise what I’m missing.

“... Swing… where are my saddlebags?” I ask, nervously. The griffon glances at me, then slaps her forehead.

“Ack, damn it! I went and upleft yer stuff when we were attacked!” The griffon groans, shaking her head. She hesitates, then suddenly grins.

“Ah, I did manage to grabsnag something, though!” She reaches over to a simple dresser by the bed, and grabs… My super soaker. Of all the things…

The griffon hands it over, and I take it, hugging it close. My jacket and my saddlebags are back in Neighbourough, so this is the only real connection I have to the stable for now...

She suddenly grabs my forehoof.

“Come now, let me showtour you our lovely town! Then we can scavengegrab your stuff from Neighbourough!” She declares, tugging me off the bed. I yelp, stumbling onto my belly- Thankfully the pain in my side is more of a dull ache, so I don’t scream from the suddenness of it.

“No no no! Ye absolute idiot, I’ll show her around.” Downpour glares up at Swing.

“If any of Ten Bit’s thugs see ye up and about, they’ll put another one in yer head, and trust me, they won’t stop there!” She hisses. The griffon blows a raspberry, crossing her arms.

“Fine, fine, littlehorse. Swing, maidbird, shall clean the house! But once nightfall falls, me and stablehorse shall dart rightquick back to Neighbourough to get her things!” She laughs manically, releasing my hoof and flitting out of the room.

Carefully, I stand, wincing at the throbbing ache in my side. The place has been picked clean, so I doubt anyone will go poking around and find the stuff… Hopefully.

A tapping at my side draws my attention, and I realise Downpour is staring at me, wanting to speak.

“So, how does yer computerleg work? Don’t think I’ve seen one of those models afore.” The filly murmurs, leaning down to stare at the pipbuck on my hoof.

… Oh yeah, forgot I had that. I didn’t even turn the dang thing on!

I lift my hoof to my face, horn lighting to push the buttons. The thing suddenly whirs to life, the warmth of machinery growing stronger as the screen turns on. Downpour steps by my side, curiously peeking at the screen as a small, chibified horse gives a wink, several diagnostic messages flying past at high speed.

Suddenly, I’m booted to the main menu- a status screen, with the same oddly chipper horse running in place. Green lines flicker to life in my vision, segmenting my body in the same places as the one on my pipbuck.

Huh… Cool, I’ll have to play with this some more later… One thing, though.

I navigate my way to the settings, quickly changing the hue of the pipbuck to a nice, soft pink. Downpour glares up at me.

“One of tha most advanced pieces of tech in tha wasteland, and yer first act with it is changin’ the colour? Stabledwellers’re insane.” She mutters, shaking her head and walking toward the door.

“Come now, then! Ye might be lucky and not have anyone seekin’ ta blow yer brains out, like our birdbrained friend. I’ll show ye the town where you’ve found yerself on this most unfortunate of expeditions.” The filly grunts. I follow, limping a little from the ache in my side, calmly tucking my super-soaker into the folds of my bandages, on my uninjured side.

She doesn’t speak as we step out into a simple living room. The furniture is old, and rotted through. The window is boarded up, much more tightly this time, and an old fireplace sits entirely unused on the far wall. Downpour leads me through another door, directly outside. The glass of it is smashed, and a pile of shattered windowglass has been swept to the side, somewhat recently.

… so that’s a sighthole.

According to my pipbuck, it’s about three in the afternoon, and the sun in the sky confirms as much. I can see a pegasus above, flying free and clear in the sky. Clouds have begun rolling in, dark and grey. Rainclouds, if I remember right…

The street we’re on is quiet, and gray. The once colourful buildings are faded and colourless, and the pavement beneath our hooves is cracked and worn. The house behind us is one of the only fully intact ones on the whole street- Most of them are collapsed in on themselves in various places, and at least two are fully flattened, debris spilling out onto the street.

Glancing past them I can see a few more rows of houses in variously similar states- seems this is the suburbs of a larger town, that I can see a little further north of where we are now. Taller office buildings sit a few blocks away, several all collapsed inward, leaning on one another.

Downpour turns, and starts heading in that direction, grunting for me to keep up, which I skitter to do.

“... So, you mentioned someone named Ten Bit. And when we were attacked, Swing mentioned someone named Bit, too… Is he like, some big scary raider or something?” I ask, nervously. Downpour laughs harshly as we reach the end of the street, glaring up at me.

“Worse, stabledweller. She’s a businessmare.” The filly scowls, turning and crossing the street.

“... and she sends gangs of ponies to kill people that owe her money?” I ask, deadpan. The filly doesn’t even glance at me.
“Yeah? What else is new?” She smirks darkly, obviously getting a joke I’m not privy to.

“She owns this damnblasted town, and if ye want ta properly set up shop here, ya better hope she approves of it.” The filly sighs irritably.

“The only reason she tolerates my presence in her fine town is because she owes me mam a few favours.”

As we walk, we finally begin to step into a more commercial district. Bombed out stores line the street we’re on, glass long gone from the storefronts. The insides are almost all dark and silent, although there is movement in a few.

“Keep yer head down, stablehorse. The ghouls aren’t too much of a bother if ye keep a low profile.” Downpour hisses. As she speaks, and we both lower ourselves to walk more quietly, I see what she means- Within the store, a dried, sunken pony is shambling about. They’re terrifyingly thin, with dark eyes and almost no hair on their heads or tails.

The ghoul is shambling from shelf to shelf, mumbling softly to itself in a quiet rasp.

“... Some o’ them stick to their old routines.” Downpour whispers.

“Some o’ them try to eat your brains if ye get too close. Best to keep it safe and stay outta these stores, stablemare.” She hisses. I nod in reply.

I follow Downpour’s lead through two more quiet streets, until we finally come across a street blockaded by a thick metal wall, welded together out of scrap metal and old wreckage. There’s plenty of sounds of activity on the other side, a gentle afternoon bustle of life going on. It makes me smile, knowing that there’s such a place out here… There might just be hope for getting the things dad needs.

Downpour glances at me, then my pipbuck.

“Moment of truth, lass. Let’s see if they know about ye.” She mutters, irritably approaching what appears to be a large door and kicking it. I canter over, stopping behind her as a part of the door slides open, and a pair of sunken, dark ghoulish eyes glare out. They look at me, then swing down to Downpour.

“... Thought you got your supplies yesterday, kid.” The ghoul rasps. Downpour bristles.

“I’m allowed to come and go to this rat town, Juice! Now open the dang door, I’ve a newcomer to show around.” She hisses. The ghoul laughs, and there are several loud, clanging noises, followed by the door swinging open, showing the gatekeeper.

He’s an old ghoul, wearing an ill-fitting hairpiece, and a metal left hind leg. He grins with a mouth devoid of teeth, shaking his head.

“Fine fine, but ah, I suppose you should know. Bit’s lookin’ for a stabledweller.” He nods to my pipbuck, and I feel my heartbeat pick up. This gross businessmare wants me?

Downpour sneers.
“Don’t know what ye mean, this here st- mare’s under my watch and I didn’a see her come from no stable.” She challenges the ghoul, glaring up at him. He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t go playin’ coy now, Downpour.” He ruffles her hair, and she hisses, smacking his hoof away.

“If Bit finds out you’re keepin’ secrets again, she won’t be happy.” He says, with a smirk.

Downpour hisses, pushing past him. I nod nervously.
“Th-thank you, si-”
“Don’t talk to this waste of good metal!” The filly barks. Shutting my mouth, I blush and stumble past him, ignoring his quiet snicker.

The door shuts behind me, and I’m finally able to look at Nighttown in all its glory. And I realise, with an odd sinking feeling… We’re under the collapsed buildings.

Nighttown itself, from what I can see, is the centre of the old city, a huge, wide-open intersection with thick metal walls at each inroad. Above us, four tall office buildings have all collapsed inward and are leaning against a central tower, precariously leaving the ground beneath clear. It makes for a near-solid dome of concrete above, blocking out most outside light-- Probably why so many floodlights, christmas lights, and old store lights have all been hooked up above, making for an oddly constant light.

“Welcome to Nighttown. Only real sane place to go in this blasted corner of the wastes. A buncha crazy stuff apparently happened a few miles away earlier this year... But we've yet ta see any of that reach us.” Downpour murmurs. I nod, following her as she walks toward the centre of the town- Barricades are set up outside the central office building, with heavily armoured ponies lazily guarding the doors.

“That’s the only way up to Ten Bit.” Downpour spits on the ground, glaring up at the building above.

“Story goes, some powerful unicorn lived here when the megaspells hit. They cast some kind of big spell that kept that building safe. And then two hundred years later that damned mare set up shop here and the place has been under her hoof ever since.” She muttered.

“... And she's lookin' for a stabledweller, isn't she.” Downpour murmurs, clearly getting an idea. She glares at me.

“I’ve been trying to speak with that soulless bastard for months, ever since the sky cleared. She’s been ignoring me. But ye can get me in…” She taps her chin.

“... I know you’ve not had the best experience with Ten Bit’s goons so far. But if ye can get me in and talking to her, I’ll let ye stay at my place for as long as ye want.” She says. Through her cracked glasses, I can see… Desperation in her eyes.

I consider it for a bit. This mare is the reason I was shot... But... She can't be that bad. If she's a businessmare, she must be willing to negotiate. Glancing up at the tower breaking through the centre of the rubble above, I make my decision. I turn to Downpour, and give her a firm nod.

“... Okay. I… have a few things to say to her, too.”

As we walk, I glance around- The four buildings in each corner of the town have had the ground floor walls all removed, showing the sparse markets set up within them, wide open spaces with ramshackle stalls set up within them. Ponies, griffons, zebras, even a dragon or two are hawking from the various settlers wandering between them, bartering and trading.

A casual count shows probably fifty or so people in general, and as my eyes move upward to the uncollapsed floors of the buildings above, I see clotheslines dangling between windows, ponies sitting on windowframes, shouting across at their neighbours. There’s… real life here. Not a lot of it, but it's here. I smile at the sight. The scouts were right, there are ponies here. And that means… so are the things I need. Hopefully.

Downpour stops a few feet away from the barricades, sighing irritably as she hears the jeers from the guards.

“Lookit the short’un here to come try talkin’ to the boss again!” One of them shouts.

“Gonna get some more info on your mommy, sweetheart?” Another yells. Before she can reply, however, a tall pony clad in heavy armour steps over, bonking them both over the head.

“Idiots. She can come through if she brings the stablemare. Boss said so.” They say, calmly. Their voice is level, and masked by static-- It's impossible to read anything beyond their words through the crackling of the speaker on their helmet.

The two groan and step aside, letting us through. I keep my head down, ignoring the calm stare from the armoured pony as we step through into the oddly clean lobby of the central tower. It’s like it’s been frozen in time, with pristinely clean floors, and a well-dressed receptionist behind the desk. The stallion looks up, tilting his head. He’s a pegasus, with a perfectly kept mane, and a jaunty suit vest. His face is the perfect image of calm professionalism, but something about it puts me off a little.

“Ah, miss Downpour! Miss Bit is happy to meet with your companion. You may wait here.” He says, calmly.

The filly freezes, looking up at me. I look back at her, then at the stallion… I could just… go. But… Downpour wants to talk to Bit. I can’t just abandon her down here. I make my choice, and speak.

“Ah, I’m afraid after Miss Bit’s goons shot me, I’m a little worse for wear. I need Downpour by my side to look after me if I collapse.” I say, as calmly as I can, trying to ignore how much I’m shaking. We’re in the belly of the beast here, and I need to make sure I don’t get digested. Weird metaphor, but whatever.

The stallion stares at me, his kind stare turning into a faint sneer.

“I’m afraid Miss Bit only allows one outside visitor at a time. We have doctors on call that can likely look after you better than Downpour can, I assure you.” He muses.

I stand my ground, glaring back at him. If I back down I might have a proper panic attack here. Downpour is… abrasive, but I owe her this. She’s been nicer to me than she had any real right to…

“I’m sure Miss Bit will allow it since she’s the one who got me shot.” I repeat, not moving. The stallion’s eye twitches, and he reaches over, touching an unseen button. A faint buzz of static fills the room.

“Ah, Miss Bit, this one is… difficult. She’s demanding to bring Downpour with her. Would you like me to have them ejected until they’re more amiable?” He asks, simply. I can’t help myself but lean in, curious to hear what this mare sounds like.

There’s silence for several long moments. My anxiety is growing, but it seems I’m not alone. Downpour steps closer to me, ever so slightly, and I can see a bead of sweat run down the stallion’s forehead.

“... Send them up.” Comes a calm reply. The stallion releases a breath he’d been holding, and responds.

“Yes ma’am. Very well.” He responds, coolly. Releasing the button, he glares at us, calm replaced with contempt.

“Go on, then. Miss Bit will see you now.” He says, barely restrained irritation in his voice.

Downpour nudges me forward, toward an elevator, which we both step into. The filly hits the button for one of the higher floors, and as the doors shut, she sighs in relief, leaning on the wall of the elevator.
“Ye coulda just walked up here without me.” She muses, giving me an odd look.

“... I could have.” Is all I reply.

The rest of the smooth ride up is silent, until a gentle ding! signals our arrival. The doors open smoothly, and we step out into a rather plain reception room. There’s no receptionist here, simply a light above the door, that glows red. Off to either side of the room are huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, and comfy armchairs sitting by them.

“Hm. She’s with someone. C’mon, stabledweller.” She mutters.

Downpour leads me over to a seat by the pristinely kept windows, letting me see outside- We’re above the dome of rubble, and I can see… really far. We’re probably about thirty floors up. In the distance, I can see the pyramid-shaped Neighbourough, and behind it, the faint rise of earth under which my Stable sits.

After a few minutes, I sigh and stand, wandering over to the window on the opposite wall. I glance out, at what lies beyond Nighttown-- There’s a few more blocks of city, but beyond that is sprawling swampland, with a dense tree cover hiding most of it-- Aside from the twisting, turning rivers. Out there, deep within, I can vaguely make out the top of a large building… A plantation of some kind, maybe a big mansion?

I can’t quite get much more of a look, as there’s a sudden loud BZZT! and the light above the door turns green. I turn to see the doors open, and out steps…

The three stallions who shot me and Swing. My heart leaps into my throat as they step into the reception area, glancing at Downpour.

“Oh hey, it’s the prodigal filly!” The big one laughs. He’s the one who shot Swing. His hair is long and messy, and he’s wearing a baggy old winter jacket, with a big STOP sign strapped to his chest. His lower jaw is made of metal, and a thick visor covers his eyes.

The other two stallions approach. One is a pegasus- A small, thin, mousey one. The one who threatened to kill me, who mocked me before I passed out. And the last is a unicorn, and I feel my stomach churn as I see him. He has a shotgun slung at his side… A twinge in my side reminds me that that’s the shotgun that almost killed me.

He’s the stallion that nearly killed me. I want to throw up, I want to scream and hide.

My head’s spinning… But as the larger one, the armoured stallion, suddenly reaches for Downpour, I stagger to my hooves, super-soaker tugged out of my bandages via magic. Even knowing that it can’t hurt them, I have to do something.

I shout incoherently at the trio, stopping them- As they turn I spray water right at the head one, making him yell in surprise as he’s drenched. He takes a step forward, only for his hoof to slip on the water and the smooth floor, bringing him down. The other two stagger to action, the unicorn lifting his shotgun and aiming it at me-- My heart stops as I remember what it felt like to get shot, but before I can scream…

“Is this really how you’re doing this?”

The voice from the intercom. I skid to a halt, the other three stallions frozen too. I can’t even turn to look at the speaker, even as the unicorn lowers his shotgun.

“You three. Get away from Downpour and get the hell out of my sight. Now. Figure out your grudges later.” The voice hisses.

The downed stallion quickly stands, spitting on the ground at me as he staggers toward the elevator, flanked by his companions. As they step in, the unicorn turns, glancing at me. His expression is imperceptible, but… there’s no malice there, that I can see. Before I can properly get a read, he breaks eye contact, the doors sliding shut in front of them.

Downpour, silent until now, suddenly bursts into action, jumping to her hooves and storming past me- Prompting me to finally turn, and see who…

Oh no.

… she's... kinda pretty.

The mare I expected to be some kind of monster is… Not that. She’s an earth pony, coat faded blue, with a purple mane, and deep red eyes. She wears a white long-sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up, with a black vest over top, and an orange tie. She’s wearing a light amount of makeup, with dark eyelids and subtle, dark blue lipstick. She looks down at Downpour, tapping a hoof.

“Yes, yes, I know, Downpour. I’m looking for her. When I have information, I’ll update you.” She calmly rests a hoof on Downpour’s head, ignoring the hissing and yelling from the filly as she glares up at me, making my legs shake. I feel like I’m made of jelly under her gaze.

“... You. In my office, if you would.” She says. I glance at Downpour, deciding to try and be confident again.
“Um. Uh. Yuh. Uh. Yeah. Downpour. Uh. With me?” I manage.

… smooth.

The mare smiles.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work up here. In my office.” Her smile disappears as she calmly pushes Downpour back, the filly growling irritably.

“... Just go, stabledweller. I got an answer, I’ll have to live with it.” She mutters, trotting over to a chair and sitting in it, crossing her hooves.

I quickly skitter into the office. It’s… not what I’d expect. Sure, there’s a desk, and there’s chairs either side for people to sit. But in the corner is a weird, whirring water cooler full of crystals and gems, and in the other corner is an utterly ancient suit of draconic power armour. Sitting on the desk is a small metal disc with a crystal floating above it, shattering and unshattering every few seconds, and resting on the desk, on the opposite side to me, is a very large rifle.

And finally my eyes settle on… My saddlebags, right on her desk! One of them utterly destroyed, the other intact, with all the surviving documents from the destroyed one stuffed in a manilla folder. Sitting on top of it is the photo of my parents.

Ten Bit brushes past me and steps behind her desk, casually sitting behind it in the large, plush leather office chair she has for herself. She gestures to a seat on my side, and I quickly take it. We sit in silence for several moments, the only sounds coming from the whirring contraption in the corner, and the crystal on her desk. Finally, she breaks the silence, sitting forward in her seat.

“Seven-Ten Split, hm? Stable 303, daughter to…” She casually flips through the folder.
“Twisted Valve and Smoky Lounge. Here on a mission to get…” She pulls out another piece of paper, eyes scanning over it.

“Quite a few pieces of rare tech. Mmm…” She looks up, locking eyes with me.

“I’ll be honest with you. If all you have is Downpour and that rotted old bird- and yes, I know she survived, because I don’t have her head on my desk right now- then your chances of saving your Stable are nil. Nada. Zilch.” She tosses the paper onto her desk, giving me a blank glare, that slowly turns into a smirk.

“But I think I can help with that. Let me propose to you this.” She leans forward, placing her hooves on the desk.

“You go out and do some things for me, and I’ll source the parts you need. In fact, some of the things I need you to do will have you swinging very close to some of the things you’re in need of. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Hmm?” She asks.

I stare back at her, and before I can stop myself, I’m talking.

“Forgive Swing’s bounty.” I say, voice ever so gently shaking. The mare’s expression is unreadable as she takes in my demand, tilting her head forward. At least I didn’t ask her for a date…

“And what makes you think you have any position to argue here, if I may ask?” She asks, with a bemused stare. I try to hesitate and think, but my mouth is moving before I can stop it again.

“B-because, well. Y-you have like, guards. And bounty-hunters. S-so if you’re asking me for h-help, you really need an outside c-contractor.” I say, quickly. Ten Bit raises an eyebrow. I briefly worry she’s about to press a button and open a trapdoor under my seat, and I even give a quick glance beneath me to make sure that’s not the case… When suddenly the mare laughs, slapping her hoof on the desk.

“Well, you’ve called my bluff. Yes, some of the places I’m sending you are… places I’d rather not send some of my better boys. At least if I lose you, nothing much of value is flushed down the drain.” She says, fire in her eyes as she leans forward.
“Fine. I’ll call my bounty hunters off Swing for now. I can’t stop anyone independently seeking her out, but if you can do these jobs for me, I’ll forgive the bounty entirely.” She says, with a grin. I sigh in relief, rubbing my forehoof as she places an envelope on the desk and slides it over.
“The things I need you to do. And, ah, I’ll be hanging onto these.” She pats my saddlebags.

“Just as some… extra insurance. But I suppose you deserve a downpayment, no?” The mare smirks, and reaches under her desk, placing a folded piece of fabric on it and sliding it over to me as well. Only a quick glance tells me what it is- my stable jacket!

I felt naked without it, and I gladly lift it with my horn, sliding the jacket back on. The left side is tattered and worn from the buckshot, but otherwise it fits nicely. I quickly take the envelope too, standing and nodding.

“Um, th… thanks.” I say, quietly. The mare simply sits back, smirking lightly.

“Report back when you’ve completed the tasks.” She says, simply.

I’m about to turn and leave, but… I take a small breath, speaking again.

“... What are you hiding from Downpour?” I ask, simply.

I’ve gone too far. I can tell immediately as Ten Bit’s expression turns into a scowl. She sits forward, voice low. Any amiability, any kindness, any amusement or snark is gone from her tone.
“I’ve given you a lot of leeway here, Seven-Ten Split. If you want that courtesy to continue, you’ll leave right now, and forget you ever asked that question. We’ve made our deal, and now we stick to it.”

I don’t even reply. I quickly skitter toward the door, letting it open before me, then slam shut behind. I take a few quick breaths, wiping sweat from my brow. Downpour looks up from where she’s sitting.
“... Did the meeting go well?” She asks, lowly. I give her a weary look, gesturing to the elevator.

“... Well enough. Let’s go, I’ll explain on the way down.”

---

“Never trust someone who’s only out for themselves. Here in the stable, we all have to work together to keep things moving.”

That’s what dad always told me. Working down in the heart of the stable probably gives you a bit of a different outlook on things, I guess. When one wrong move can doom everyone you’ve ever known, I guess that’s fair.

… But what do I do if the pony looking out for themselves is the only one that can help me save all of you?

Do I trust her?

…

Maybe I have to. Maybe I can find a way to get rid of her.

… But this isn’t my fight to fight. I need to focus on my stable.

Author's Note:

Visual references for Ten Bit and Downpour;

And concept sketches for the trio of stallions;

Comments

[Ace of Blackjack]

Once again, I’m in love with your character design. I’m trying to make my story, I’m in love with how you write! I’m sharing this with everyone I know, everything from my writing group, to my drawing group. Mind if I try and get someone to do an audio book version?