A slaver falls in love with a slave, but nothing is ever so simple.
Fillydelphia is not a kind place, it makes the worst of you. Worse yet, all non-ponies face an imminent doom that Stern hopes she can help defeat. This is not the time or place for romance, still, Stern's heart becomes enraptured by one of the slaves putting her in an extremely difficult situation in choosing between her duty and her own desires.
"-been- one week since you looked me! Tossed your head to the side and s-" Stepping beyond the door's threshold, the contraband radio's music faded in around the corner. It was mostly acceptable for Talons to have some types of contraband such as radios, but the presence of one griffon whose reputation preceded her caused the radio to quickly be shut off as she entered the room. Things went silent and the mercenaries stood at attention. Stern narrowed her eyes, looking over the griffons in the lounge, "Who's radio did I just hear?" she asks in a venomous tone to a very silent reply.
After letting her question sit for several seconds she walks across the room, the clatter of her talons muffled by the short and scratchy carpeting that seemed to both be everywhere and never wear out. Stern grabs the small box that was silenced and looks it over. It wasn't a radio so much as a speaker designed to play music stored on old data cards one could find around the wasteland. It was an expensive commodity, which is why Stern wound up an arm and threw the speaker across the room, narrowly missing an unprepared griffon's face only to shatter against the wall. "You know the rules about contraband apply to Talons too." her quiet warning contrasting the violent outburst she'd just dealt. "Everybody, get the fuck out of here. Break's over."
Stern was well known for just how uptight she could be about discipline. If her subordinates wanted to drink and party, they could work for another Talon company. Stern's Talons were the last stand for her species. In the halls of the Alpha-Omega Hotel, there lurked agents of the greatest threat to all non-ponies, casually walking about and more often than not, escorting Red Eye. With a silent and searing hatred, Stern averted her gaze from the alicorn as it passed her by in the halls. The green beast paid her no mind, staring blankly forward. She'd learned early on that at least her thoughts were safe from prying while Red Eye's were not. 'There was no unity for non-ponies' those words, from the moment she first heard them as a younger and more naive Talon, haunted her. If the Goddess grew in power enough, she'd wipe out everything.
Reaching the higher floors of the hotel, Stern was granted a view through the large windows of what was once a restaurant. Maybe a rooftop view of Fillydelphia would have been nice before the war, but now it served as a grim reminder of what life had become for the tens of thousands here - slavery. Even outside of Fillydelphia, ponies were slaves whether they wore chains or lived in fear or fought to survive. You only had the rights you were able to fight for, or what right were given to you by others. Stern watched as the crimson smog moved into position to further block what little sunlight came through. She had to be here, she couldn't leave Fillydelphia out of a duty to griffonkind. In a way, Stern was as much a slave as any pony; though she never showed it, it's why she could empathize with their plight. Even Red Eye was a slave to his duty to Equestria. A heavy sigh fogged up the glass as she looked over the city, in the distance she could see the main gate to Fillydelphia opening up, a new group was being brought in. She knew what she'd be doing later today.
"How does one fall so far?" a voice in her head asked Stern, she stared at the remnants of a reflection in the smudged window, she scowled, knowing she was right - how does someone end up the exact thing they'd never hoped to be? From a folded leather pocket in her coat, Stern produced a decade old photograph and stared at the younger griffon in the picture. Below it in hasty marker writing, 'first patient saved'. Stern forced herself to tuck the picture back away before her eyes wandered to the pony on the medical cot beside her. The title was misleading, written years ago by a naive griffon who thought differently. In reality, it was Stern's first breach of a contract and her first unforgettably painful lesson in loyalty to the contract.
Stern focused her eyes beyond her reflection in the window, past the voice that questioned her actions, back to reality: Fillydelphia. Today was Sunday, time to set up scheduling for patrol routes and dig through records from the slavers and merchants to further stamp out inefficiencies. Then, she'd have a bit of time to herself to work out. After that... She was to be at the gate. Paperwork, she could assign it to another, but that invited treachery. She went back to her office with a stack of reports. The foundry was having an issue with the scrapyard, who was having an issue with the factories. In turn, productivity was down 20% from the schedule of peak efficiency she'd laid out for them so graciously. Twice she'd sent a fellow Talon to investigate and twice he'd returned with a promise to return to efficiency. This was the third time this discrepancy had made it to her desk, Wicked Slit wasn't getting her deliveries out fast enough and causing hold-ups all down the supply chain. Stern's feathers bristled, the report shivered in her grip. She didn't need this right now! There was always something that needed her attention, even without these uneducated slavers ruining her perfect systems! She still had schedules to assign to the Talons and patrol routes to set up and the issue of rapes all of Fillydelphia and contraband still getting in and sh had to pretend to crack down on the slave market without actually stopping it but still stop contraband at the gates and- and- and-! Stern dropped the report on her desk and gripped her head in her talons with a muffled squawk. She had to go yell at Wicked Slit now, which left her no time to check in at the hospital until the end of the day if, and only if, she could make some amount of headway on any of the million tasks Red Eye assigned to her. She signed the contract thinking she was going to help save ponies, rebuild Equestria, and help griffons stop some eldritch horror from wiping out all life, but here she was micromanaging a bunch of idiots, pushing pencils in the most nightmarish city to ever exist surrounded by griffon who only cared about the Goddess so long as Red Eye kept the caps flowing.
Stern stared at last week's payment of caps, all freshly printed by Red Eye himself. Bottlecaps! Luna-damned bottlecaps! Little pieces of metal used to keep soda from spilling out of glass bottles, that's what held all this power in her life. They initially held value in their scarcity, Stern understood the economics well enough, but they weren't scarce if Red Eye could print thousands every week. Then they just became scrap metal.
Stern felt the dull ache beginning in her brain, just the metaphorical icing on a metaphorical cake that was going to be an awful day. She threw her talons up in the air, every single day in Fillydelphia was awful for every single pony in Fillydelphia. Wicked Slit would pay for this...
"I... I'm alive?" the raider breathed heavily, "But the... Where am I?" he tried to sit up but was laid back down on the cot.
Above him sat a young griffon in a colorful uniform, yellow bearing a pink Talon insignia. "Holy shit it worked." she gasps upon hearing the raider brought back to life and setting aside the spark battery she'd used to restart his heart, "Lay back down, stay still please." she urged with a caring firmness.
"This is... We're still outside." he says, "The mines... My legs..."
The griffon hushes him, "Hold still for a little while. I put them all back on for you, but you're kind of held together with bandages and staples until the hydra salve kicks in."
The raider shifts a foreleg slightly, feeling the hoof back in place, albeit a bit numb. "So you did..." he closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief, "I can't pay you much, h-how much of the gang survived the attack?"
The griffon went quiet. "Uh, it's just you. I followed you into the minefield when you ran."
A silence held for a bit before the raider spoke up, "We didn't expect them to have Talons with them, life's full of surprises, huh? ...Why'd you save me?" the raider laughs, hiding his suddenly dropped mood.
The young griffon smiled brightly, "Talons are Talons, but I'm a medic. We help everyone."
"You're a lifesaver, kid."
"Actually, do you mind being in a picture with me?" The griffon asks, eagerly clutching a Ponoroid camera. "You're actually my first patient and I wanna remember this."
The raider smirks, life was full of surprises, "Why not? I've never been in a picture before."
She holds the camera at arm's length with a wide grin, the raider next to her in the cot smiling tiredly. A momentary flash hits them both and the camera prints out a laminated sheet.
"I look pretty good." the raider jokes, getting a look of himself in the photo.
A flap of wings overhead catches both their attention as a senior officer descends onto the improvised operating room. "Stern! What in the fuck are you doing?!" An older Talon merc barks, dropping into the scene. "Who is this?!"
"Sir, h-he needed help, sir." The medic replies, her youth shown in stark contrast to the battle scar covered captain.
The Talon looks the raider over closely, "One! Nowhere in your contract does it state you are to issue medical assistance to anyone but our client! Two! You have wasted enough of your issued equipment that your payment for this mission will go towards restocking what you have used here! And three! This filthy raider was part of the attack on the caravan you were assigned to help guard!" the drill instructor-esque Talon shouted directly into the medic's face before pulling a combat shotgun from his side and turning to face the raider who was in the process of trying to get out of the cot.
BANG
The loud crash of the foundry doors broke Stern's focus as she landed in the dirt, the loud metal doors were misaligned and always ground against the frame when opening or closing. As she was about to storm into the foundry and squawk Wicked Slit's ears off, she spotted something peculiar; a dirty little green filly pulling a cart of scrap metal far too large for her.
Yet again, Stern felt herself getting angry for a multitude of reasons. What kind of brainless idiot makes a filly pull a loaded cart? They don't magically get lighter for weaker ponies. The foundry guards scrambled to get out of Stern's way as she barged through the doors into the sweltering heat of the foundry. She looked up to see the building had no ventilation and immediately broke a sweat, the windows were all boarded up. Her feathers bristled angrily as she looked around for a guard, she climbed up the catwalk and cornered a slaver who seemed was rightfully nervous to be approached by Stern. "Where is she?"
The slaver points across the warehouse to a door, "Her office, ma'am."
The handle was locked, so Stern did what she normally did and gave the handle a much more forceful twist. The internal mechanisms of the 200 year old lock cried out in anguish for the final time as the components shattered and the handle was forced to hang limp and defeated. The door opened without any further protest revealing Wicked Slit at her desk with a fearful look that only intensified when she saw who it was that had crushed the door's lock.
"O-oh, Stern? What are you doing here?"
"I would have sent Kaz to talk to you, but this is the third time I've gotten complaints about the foundry failing to meet work quotas." Stern found a certain serenity in just talking business. "I figured I'd pay you a visit and talk to you myself."
Wicked Slit sat up in her desk, telekinetically pushing out a chair, "H-have a seat, please. I'll get my reports a-and we can talk."
Stern approached the desk from the side, boxing Wicked into the corner of her office, "No, I think I'll stand." she knew exactly how to increase the tension. Stern noticed Wicked had a large knife and pointed a talon at it. "May I?"
Wicked nodded, and Stern pulled the angled dagger from the desk, "Balanced... So, can you tell me what's going on out here? Because I keep getting reports from the factories that you're not keeping up with your quotas."
"I've just been having issues getting good workers, they're not sending me-"
"Huh, that's odd. With that work plan I helped you lay out, factors like inexperienced slaves or understaffing would be accounted for by keeping the workload at 70% with three overlapping 10 hour shifts for constant and even output." Stern pokes at the blade with her talon.
"Working at 70% just isn't-"
Stern finally snapped, plunging the dagger into the desk up the the handle, "WHAT DID I SAY?!" she shouts, closing in on Wicked Slit, "How fucking hard is it to follow a simple plan! I laid out all the answers for you! I wrote you a fucking booklet about how to run at a peak efficiency that aligns with the production rates of the other facilities! Do I have to run this fucking place for you?!" Stern's shouting could be heard across the foundry, prompting silence. "What the fuck are you doing?! Let me see your schedule requests!"
Wicked's horn sputtered and flared, pulling open her desk's drawers as she dug through her messy bookkeeping for the paperwork she sent to the Fun Farm to request ponies for shifts. She pulled a manila folder out and began to open it up before Stern yanked it out of her grasp.
The unorganized stack of papers laid out, time blocks filled in to account for the ponies in the foundry. Stern looked over the paperwork with increasing frustration. "It looks like you arranged for two 12 hour shifts. I specifically told you three shifts of ten hours. I wrote it in the booklet!" Before the slaver mare is able to speak up, Stern goes back into the papers, "I see you haven't arranged for equipment maintenance. There's no janitory work being done either, scrap metal all over the floor." Stern's talons drummed on the desk impatiently, digging up bits of the presswood.
"We've been running short on finding good slaves to do the work." Wicked Slit rubbed her hooves together anxiously. "Too few and too weak."
Yet again, Stern's rage boiled over, "Do I have to explain eveything to you?!" her fists slammed on the desk, rattling the room, "You talk with ALL the slavers, not just your buddies at the Fun Farm! You pick the ones for the jobs you need done and YOU make sure the shifts are split the way I fucking tell you to do it! Your production is falling short because the factory halts while one set of slaves trades out for the next!" Stern held up the booklet titled 'Foundry Operations Guide' and jammed it into Wicked's face, "If you followed my instructions there would be six hours in any given 24-hour cycle that you would be staffed with twice as many ponies as needed! The other facilities are doing it and they meet my quotas! You keep fucking up my charts, Wicked!" Stern's avian biology allowed her to shriek at volumes that could be heard from outside the foundry, leaving Wicked's ears to ring in the silence between words.
"There are currently two forges out of commission, when did you plan on telling maintenance?!"
"I-It's only been a couple da-"
Stern's rage again boiled over as she grabbed the desk and slid it to the side to remove the barrier between her and the mare, she closed in, backing Wicked into the corner of her office. "Equipment breaks! It always does! It breks faster when you throw PONIES in with the molten metal! Are ponies made of metal?!" Stern held herself back from just killing the mare, before she answered.
"N-no..."
"That's right... You broke the foundry equipment because you seem to be under the assumption that this is in fact your personal sadism playground." Stern's talons wrap around Wicked's neck, then tightened further to strangle out the magic flare from her horn, "THIS IS A FACTORY!" she screeches right into the mare's face, letting go as it turned a shade of blue. Finally, Stern calmed again, "If I find out you're fucking up again, you will not survive to get a fourth warning." Stern kept her threats sweet and simple, leaving the office on that note and stepping onto the catwalk above the foundry. All eyes that were on her scrambled to get back to work.
Stepping outside, Stern gripped her face in her talons, her headache had only gotten worse from shouting at Wicked Slit. The stifling Fillydephia heat felt cool compared to the foundry as she distanced herself from the building. Again, she saw the filly struggling with a loaded cart of scrap metal. Stern needed to head back to assign routes to the Talons for the week, but this should take only a minute.
Stern saw the filly pick up the pace to back the cart into the bay as she noticed Stern's approach. Stern grabbed the harness and the filly slipped out, "I'll take this." she says, having an easier time with pushing the cart. The filly slips off without a word, much to the annoyance of the slavers watching. "Bet's off." one calls out, "No, gimme the cigs." another says.
Stern looks past the cart, "Find her something else to do, filly's too small to drag carts." the slavers all burst into laughter, "Aww, we gotta start calling him a filly now!" one laughs. Stern rolls her eyes and turns back around to head back to the Alpha-Omega Hotel. How does anything even survive to adulthood, much less start a city, while being this stupid?
The Alpha-Omega Hotel had long since lost the hospitality it once claimed to be known for, standing tall over Fillydelphia as a symbol of... Well, it wasn't completely wrecked, which made it luxurious by Fillydelphia standards. Stern came to a casually graceful landing on the rooftop of the building just as one of the Pinkie Pie balloons was lifting off. The fur on her back stood up seeing the massive misshapen head rise into the air, they were far more disturbing than the ponies in the basket beneath who scanned the area with a mounted anti-machine rifle. Occasionally one would slip from the basket and turn into a mess on the ground, Stern remembered the one that burst open after hitting the corner of a rooftop high above the street, causing a brief shower of gore.
Passing by one of the alicorns that wandered the halls of the hotel, Stern made her way back to her office to assign schedules. Patrol routes would need to be updated, border guard shifts were going to be rotating and with a few Talons sick this week, there would be gaps in the border guard. Everyone would be positioned on the walls to minimize the gaps. At least the Talons were competent at their jobs enough to be able to handle training each other. With Steel Rangers making life difficult outside the wall of Fillydelphia, Stern felt the constant paranoia of an armored assault taking place. With Red Eye's surveillance drones buzzing around the city, it was impossible to use any radio transmission as the Ministry of Morale broadcast was too much interference. In place of a real communications network, Stern set up light beacons facing inward in case of that. A green beacon put a section of the city on high alert and called in a small group of Talons on standby, amber called Talons off their patrol routes in a nearby section of the city, a red beacon alerted all Talons. If one section of the wall flashed a red beacon, the entire wall would go on high alert.
Stern's head throbbed painfully as she looked over the computer screen, splashes of green illumination burning her eyes even in the lit room. The digital copy of the schedule was then sent to the Talon server set up in the building as well as transcribed onto a chalkboard in the common areas, and finally onto paper for record keeping. Checking the clock, Stern growled, she was already needed at the gate and had no time to visit the hospital or the gym because that time was spent yelling at Wicked Slit. In spite of her own policies banning alcohol in Fillydelphia, Stern wondered if a stiff drink was what she needed on days like this. She settled for tiny bit of med-x to fix the pain in her cerebellum. She closed her eyes for just a minute, resting her head on her desk while two Talons walked by complaining about the unfortunate alignment of their schedules causing them to be on patrol the morning after a long night of wall duty.
With an audible groan Stern shouted down the hall, "Find someone to switch with and write it on the board!" it was not a good fix, but as long as it kept the Talons alert she'd take a quick fix. She needed to organize better, maybe set up a rotating set of patrols. From her desk, Stern pulled an old Ministry of Peace textbook from a stack of many 'Hooves and Horns: Medical Treatment for Ponies' she flipped to the pages regarding battlefield undernourishment and dietary needs. A chapter explaining how to keep yourself from dying when the rations ran out, the edges of the page had grayed significantly such that if the book were closed one could easily point out where that chapter sat.
Stern read through it countless times before, but this was the first time she'd opened the book since coming to Fillydelphia. It was just a battlefield manual and didn't have the most in-depth information, it explained things like scavenging and which plants were safe to eat. Most all of the plants outside, if there were still plants to be found, were mutated. Most of the chapter had been rendered obsolete by 200 years' passage. The last time she'd read this book, she was trying to help keep the slaves from starving to death in droves, and if that filly from earlier was any indication, it was going to start happening again soon. Her work on manual soil purification was largely bypassed by the discovery of a Ministry of Morale warehouse underneath the Fun Farm amusement park. Stern shut the book and put it back into the desk drawer - she was needed at the gate. Exiting her office, Stern passed by the remains of a poster that read 'We Must Do Better!' a personal touch she brought to the office long ago.
Antimachine rifle hanging from her side, Stern left her office and made her way out of the Alpha-Omega Hotel. On the way up the stairs, she was stopped by one of... Them. Stern's face kept stiff as the thing stood a few steps above her, using the placement to stare down it's nose at her. "Griffon Stern." it addressed in a singular voice, unable to use telepathy to get into the head of a non-pony. "Red Eye requests your presence."
With a quiet exhale, Stern turns to head back down the stairs to Red Eye's suite, the alicorn shuffles past her and outstretches it's wings. "We shall lead you."
"I know where Red Eye's room is." Stern replies, unwilling to escalate the situation by shoving past the alicorn. Just one minute alone with one of these things and she'd rip it apart. The genocidal hivemind monsters couldn't even afford to not be rude at every opportunity? Stern just knew she was going to be having another 'mowing alicorns down with a rain of plasma' dream tonight.
Just as expected, she was lead downstairs right to Red Eye's door. "Here is Red Eye's office." It announces to no one's real surprise. Stern rolls her eyes and enters to find Red Eye sitting in a poorly-lit room looking over Fillydelphia through a massive window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, he turns to look back at Stern as she walks in. From this angle, one wouldn't be able he had a computer jammed into his skull. She sometimes wondered what all he could see with that eye.
"You'll never guess who's come to visit us, Stern." Red Eye says with an almost giddy tone, his forehooves tapping together in front of his chest.
"Who?"
"The Stabledweller is in Fillydelphia now." he says, "The unicorn I told you I'd need." Stern became uneasy, she knew Red Eye's plan to oust the Goddess. Any talk of that made her nervous because her choices were between 'definitely will kill you' Unity and 'probably won't kill you' Red Eye. To leave Red Eye was to choose death, so it seemed.
"What about the pegasus?" Stern asks, trying to gauge how close judgement day was, once he'd ascended Stern would just have to trust that he wouldn't go all Unity 2 on the world after what she imagined was either an alicorn war or some kind of peaceful alicorn orgy.
Red Eye smiled menacingly, he wasn't all that menacing for a pony but the power he held did the work of making him feared and respected. "All in good time, Stern." he says, "Now, you'll recognize the Stabledweller immediately, your orders are to keep her alive. I have a proposition to make." Red Eye then turns to Stern with a serious look, "No one outside of us is to know of our arrangements, not the slavers, not your Talons. Word of me wanting to speak with her is not to reach any alicorn, it would draw too much suspicion from the Goddess and possibly ruin everything. You alone are to keep her from dying here."
"Understood."
Red Eye's smile returns, "I trust in your skills to take care of this for me. Now, she's at the gates."
Stern nods, turning to leave and get back to the gates.
Stern perched on the catwalks above the Fillydelphia plaza entrance. Ponies in chains shuffled in, egged on by the slavers with sharp prods, whips, or blunt instruments. They all looked to be a forlorn group - heads hung low, hooves dragging on the ground, fearful glances up at the Talons on duty. All of them, save for one abnormally short mare who held no traits of ever being a slave. Her clean and vibrant coat hadn't drained of color from years of neglect and misery, she looked around observantly and without fear of meeting the gaze of a slaver. Stern then noticed the Pipbuck with a tired sigh, this was clearly the Stabledweller.
Once all the slaves had been herded into the plaza, it was time for Stern to give them her classic speech, to give them their options and allow them to choose their sentencing.
Stern listened closely as Red Eye's speech played on the loudspeakers. His smooth voice punctuated by the angry shout of one of the slavers, "Make yourselves presentable, you worthless mules!" it was a rule to never interrupt Red Eye's speeches. He was the one thing standing between the Goddess and her plans... He was also helping her with a promise of more alicorns. It was this or death, griffons wouldn't rally behind her unless she could afford to pay them, and she couldn't afford an army. Stern shifted, aiming down the scope of her antimachine rifle.
THOOM
The slaver was instantly reduced to a splatter of crimson gore by a bullet designed to destroy power armor. Stern scowled as the slaves and slavers alike cowered under her gaze. The entirety of Red Eye's speech was allowed to finish with a silent audience before Stern spoke once more, "You do not interrupt while Red Eye is talking!"
Stern turned to face the crowd, "My name is Stern." she says, looking down on them all, "And this is my town."
Like usual, nopony volunteered to join the Stable Recovery Teams or fight in the pit. It was probably for the best, they all looked a sorry sight, especially the stabledweller.
"Post them up in the Fun Farm." Stern says, turning to one of the slavers who stiffened to attention under her gaze.
"Y-yes ma'am." the dark gray mare replies before forcing herself to put on a tough face to address the new ponies. Stern watched them as they were shuffled out of the plaza and towards the remains of a theme park. It always got on Stern's nerves for one reason or another that the area was still identifiable as a theme park, the burdened slaver wanted the remains of the past removed while the young medic felt sad at the ironic juxtaposition of the old and new purpose of the same installations.
A few griffons passed by overhead, on patrol near the wall. They were especially vigilant during days like this where new slaves were brought in, just in case there was any runners to shoot at.
Stern watched as the last of the ponies filed out of the plaza, just enough time for her to have a personal thought about the raiders and other miscreants held in the fun farm - some of these terrible ponies had at least earned their spot here.
With a graceful silence, Stern landed atop one of the buildings within the theme park, giving her a view of what used to be a bumper carts rink that now served as a holding pen. A little gray mare could be seen wandering. Aside from two smalltime troublemakers in that pen, it was decently safe, and if any of the stories about her exploits were to be believed then the stabledweller could handle them.
On the ground directly below were the ponies kept in the petting zoo. There needed to be a serious conversation about the rations given out, it was known that starving slaves didn't work. Moving down the slope of the rooftop onto a catwalk that lead into the building, Stern looked down on the ponies and then around to the quartermaster of this area, Whiplash, as he took roll of those arriving back from their latest shift.
Whiplash jumped while his fur stood on end, seeing that the griffon had silently come up behind him. The slaver backpedalled a step before speaking up, "Stern? What do you want?" his attitude becoming shy and anxious.
"Where is the kitchen?"
A moment of confused silence hung between Stern and Whiplash, "The... Kitchen?" the slaver asks, seeming to hold back that he knew more.
"Where do they make the food?" Stern asks, her eyes narrowing impatiently. "You're getting an inspection."
"It's, uhh..." Whiplash gestured his head across the petting zoo enclosure to the far end, "They're next door." The petting zoo housed a fairly large concessions stand and was next to what was once the mass kitchen at the theme park. Poor planning, it seemed, to have the two so close to eachother.
Stern left, letting Whiplash ease up without her menacing presence and tendency to jump to violent solutions. Entering the adjacent kitchen, Stern saw the watered down oatmeal being prepared far before the cooks realized she was there. Even in her heavy armor, Stern tended to not be noticed by ponies until she was right behind them, whether that was of her own stealth or the slavers' lack of awareness was up for debate. Her first question came to surface, "What is this?"
"Oatmeal." one of the cooks replied plainly, setting the stovetop to simmer the huge pot.
"Just oatmeal? Where's the supplementals outlined for the kitchen?"
"The whats?" The slaver turned to face Stern now, almost annoyed with her questioning.
"You can't feed them just oatmeal. Where's the mushroom farm and the cilantro we were supposed to be growing." Stern grumbled with a clear frustration, her headache coming back, she knew if she started screaming again her head would be pounding for the rest of the day.
There was a lack of response, prompting Stern to grip the bridge of her beak, "We went over this already, I turned the old freezer into a mushroom farm. They provide protein and help clear out radiation so the slaves scavenging in the crater can actually survive more than three months. The cilantro does the same and makes it taste better." she spoke to a continued silence and her own growing frustration.
Stern drummed her talons on the countertop, "My head is killing me right now, so if you want to keep being alive you'll find my guidebook and follow the instructions on farming mushrooms for consumption."
The two cooks talked amongst themselves briefly, anxiously, before Stern continued talking, "Finding new slaves is difficult and dangerous outside of Fillydelphia. I take attrition rates seriously and I don't appreciate you not following the dietary plan." Stern took a deep breath, her headache returned, "Show me the freezer."
Stepping away from the stove, the mare and the stallion lead Stern to a large metal door further back in the kitchen. Behind it sat shelves lined with soil-filled bins of faintly glowing mushrooms in a cool, humid room. Wasteland mushrooms were hardy and required little care other than making sure they didn't dry out. The cooks entered the room with Stern, curiously looking around at the fungi.
"You two forgot about this, didn't you?"
The mare admitted first, "Sorry Stern..."
"They should have been harvested earlier, but you can still cook these. I assume the herb garden is dead?"
"How do we, uh... Cook them?" the stallion asks, trying not to set her off.
Stern spent the next half hour showing the ponies how to harvest and cook the mushrooms they'd forgotten about. It was better than just screaming her head off at them. They seemed astounded by the idea of doing something more than just boiling oat rations. It saddened Stern that everyone around her seemed amazed by mundane survival skills such as food prep.
Everypony seemed to like it as they passed out filled metal bowls of the hearty meal she'd forced them to make. Finally the line began to shorten as ponies split off to go to work or catch some sleep before they were needed again. Then along comes that green filly from before, waiting patiently at the back of the line. Stern set aside a little extra for the tiny pony, realizing it was a stallion after a squeaky, muffled "Thank you."
Though Stern was too tired to yell at the cooks, she left them with a simple reminder, "Your job is to feed them. If I catch you fucking up again I will not hesitate to feed you to the Talons." Would she follow through with that? They weren't likely to try finding out. On Stern's exit of the Fun Farm, she came across an unpleasant sight.
"Give it over, runt." one voice called, just beyond her line of sight but well within the range of her hearing.
"You don't need it, you're going to the pit tomorrow." a second cackled, followed by a short scuffle and some laughter.
It wasn't any of her business to be intervening directly with the slaves, she was already overstepping just by being so involved with the slavers but without her micromanaging, they'd all run Fillydelphia into the ground.
Stern took two steps towards the outside before a nagging feeling weighed on her mind, something she hadn't dealt with in over a decade - guilt. She forced another step before a squeaky outcry of "No!" pulled her back with a strangely unseen force. Order, she needed to keep order in this town. With a valid reason on her mind, Stern turned tail and followed the voices she'd picked up on echoing through the petting zoo.
Ponies are quick to make way for Stern as she moves through the holding pen towards the voice she'd just heard. They suddenly go quiet as Stern approaches, the sound of hooves scampering off into the crowds and fading in with the others. A small amount of recently-spilled food trailed across the floor, a few hoofprints indicating what looked like some kind of fight, and a very short trail pointing towards an enclosure with a very small opening. Through the little door, Stern could hear quiet sobs that stopped as her steps became audible to the occupant.
The large griffon crouched down and gazed through the doorway at an angle, granting herself a partial view of the little pony in the dark. Again, it was the little pony from earlier. Whoever had tried to take the bowl of food from him only succeeded in dumping it over his head.
"... Y-yes?" he says, staring at Stern from deep within his enclosure. Stern grabs the overturned metal bowl and refills it with the contents of her thermos. The food was still on the warmer end. She pushes the bowl through the small opening, surprising the pony inside, indicated by a small gasp.
"Eat up." Stern attempts to make her voice gentle with little effect, her tones are still angry and gruff.
There is a silence from the enclosure, a hesitant shuffle of hooves on the ground, and finally the satisfied scarfing of a well-cooked meal. Stern should have left it at that and gone about her day, she should have just ignored the crying and gone back to her work, she should have just beat some fear into the cooks and told them they were one mistake away from dying like she did to Wicked Slit. But she didn't, Stern found herself doing something Talons weren't allowed to do, something the slavers couldn't find in themselves to do. She needed to leave, she should never have opened her beak to speak to him. As far as Talons were concerned, they were keeping a bunch of savage, tribal raider slaves in line, which is why they were never allowed to meaningfully interact. If they did, they'd see the silent majority of ponies were...
A set of wide, teary eyes stared through the dimness out at Stern, scared because she was Stern, curious and hopeful because she'd made such an effort to care. The silent majority of Fillydelphia, the ponies least likely to ever run or cause problems and be apprehended by Talons, the ones who made up the majority of the weekly charts of slave attrition rates on Stern's paperwork were all the innocents caught up in the slave trade around Equestria. Stern, in an action that for the past decade remained alien to her, extended a modicum of kindness to the little pony.
"Are you okay?"
His bewildered expression contorted, becoming stony and blank, "Y-yeah..." he says quietly. His tears betrayed him, that and Stern heard what happened.
"What's your name?" Stern asks, continuing to break the rules out of a strange sense of curiosity. Why did she want to know anything about him? He was a slave, one of the listless masses that spun the gears of Fillydelphia, no more important than the numbers in her weekly reports.
"Murky. Number Seven." Murky replies, as if he were reporting in. It was a dry and impersonal tone of voice, not likely how he'd reply to another pony.
"Murky..." Stern repeats to herself, focusing on the name as if she wanted to remember it, "I like that name." Stern had already gone well beyond the point of no return in the department of not interacting with the slaves any more than was needed. Though at points it seemed the rule was 'no kindness allowed'. Stern had a single burning question on her mind, but didn't want to ask it because she couldn't help. He was going to the pit tomorrow,and he would no doubt die. Not even Stern could get a slave excused from it, word would spread and get to Red Eye, he'd find out she'd been personally involved with Murky and this was one of the few things he was absolutely firm on.
Murky looked at Stern in confusion, it wasn't often that griffons spoke to the slaves and it'd never occurred that they would be nice.
"I hope you enjoyed the meal, I helped make it." Stern felt eyes on her, maybe it was paranoia but she needed to be going. The griffon backs off and begins to turn before Murky speaks up, breaking what little heart Stern had been trying to regrow.
"Th-they're sending me to the pit tomorrow... Please help me, I don't want to die." Stern could probably pretend she didn't hear and keep walking. This was why they weren't allowed to speak to the slaves, this was why the slavers had to be absolutely heartless, Fillydelphia just didn't work unless everyone was irredeemably evil.
Stern could only leave with a shame-filled "I'm sorry, Murky."
Walking out of the petting zoo felt like the steepest uphill climb she'd ever walked. She wanted to do something, anything, to get him out of it, but anything short of just grabbing him and flying out of the city would get them both killed. Maybe if she flew high and slow, she could slip out through the smog- what was she thinking?! She'd be shot and killed like any other deserter for that!
Stern traveled across Fillydelphia to keep an eye on Littlepip while she was put to work in the scrapyards. She was supposed to be overseeing the stabledweller's safety, but her mind was on Murky. She'd seen hundreds of slaves die in the pit alone - so what made this one different? However short it was, she knew him. There had to be a way for her to get him out of this. Stern could suddenly see the ponies on the ground in a new light, normally they'd just been ponies toiling, angry tribals with no care for the future and the imminent death coming if Fillydelphia were not attempting to rebuild.
Stern gazed down on the scrapyards, taking in the movements of those working, the way their heads hung low and fearfully under the glares of the slavers. She felt pity, seeing the way nearly all of them carried some horrible wound barely covered by blood-soaked scraps of cloth. Others had given up, infected lashes across their backs and sides wept openly while they worked the few days they had left before they succumbed to their infections. Stern's talons gripped into the ground anxiously, allowing this was the opposite of everything she once stood for. She told herself it was for the future, that Red Eye would stop the Goddess and ensure a peaceful future but that this generation had to toil. She sighed, her heart rate slowly climbing to a rapid staccato, this wasn't right. She felt strange, looking over the group with a cold sweat. Stern's eyes jumped, focusing on one of the slavers with a predatory glare, the same way she'd look at a target and pick out the vital organs.
Stern reined herself back in emotionally, she needed sleep. Red Eye would get the stabledweller's help and they'd stop the Goddess with that Enclave general he'd mentioned. If anyone could talk the Enclave into opening the skies again, it was Red Eye. She just needed to trust in him. Having calmed herself down, Stern resumed her duties overlooking the sullen masses of Fillydelphia. This was the last generation to squabble, another decade down the line and everything would be fine, they just needed to get through the hard times. Littlepip's first day in Fillydelphia was about the same as any new slave's. She felt the whip often until she figured out the way slaves acted. Luckily she learned to avoid trouble before Stern had to step in. Pushing... him... from her mind, Stern focused on the fact that she had paperwork to do tonight when she was done babysitting Littlepip.
It all happened so fast. Red Eye's announcement, tomorrow would be a day of peace where Littlepip would be approached and asked to visit Red Eye. However, when he asked about who wanted to volunteer for the pit, Stern saw a dirty gray hoof raise up. From across the scrapyard, Stern saw Red Eye stare at her with a silent expression that showed he hadn't expected her to do that. With several alicorns in the area watching, Red Eye was forced to accept Littlepip's volunteering for the pit, lest the Goddess become suspicious of his desire to meet her. As far as the Goddess knew, Red Eye was unaware of the stabledweller.
Stern sat in her office that evening, Red Eye pacing anxiously on the opposite side of her desk. She needed to ease his tensions.
"If the stories are to be believed, she's more than capable enough to survive." Stern says, trying to ignore the mental imagery of Littlepip going against Murky in the pit. "Red Eye, I don't think you have anything to worry about. You can visit her when she wins."
"If she wins, Stern. If. She may have had the advantage of friends and weaponry out in the wasteland. But what if she's up against that zebra? These are seasoned fighters."
"I have my doubts, these are just raiders. She's handled several alicorns, hasn't she? That's a level of resourcefulness that most ponies don't have."
Red Eye calmed a bit, but he still wore his worries on his sleeve. Or cape in this case. "And if she dies?"
"We find another unicorn, there's no shortage of them coming through Fillydelphia."
"You're right, Stern..." Red Eye says, clearly thinking deeply, "if there are any unicorns with a magic-related talent, send them my way. It doesn't matter how marginally related their cutiemark is, I want to screen as many of them as I can. Just... Just in case Littlepip doesn't survive this."
Stern nods, adding that to her list of things to do. Her long, long list of things to do. She hoped Littlepip would survive this, and that Murky would be spared combat at all. Stern was unable to sleep, laying on the remains of a mattress that had been stuffed with ancient pillows to supplement the destroyed springs. Why was this specifically weighing on her mind so much? Stern covered her face with a pillow, forcing the thoughts away and falling into a deep sleep.
She stood atop a scorched hill overlooking Fillydelphia. Stern remembered this place, she'd taken this route the first time they'd ever gone into the city. A trail led on towards pavement and through the outer ruins of the destroyed city into the heart of Fillydelphia. However, as Stern tried to walk towards the city, she found herself unable to pull forward.
Looking back, she felt an iron harness attached to herself in lieu of the Talon armor, she was fastened to a massive cart loaded with corpses, an impossibly heavy thing to pull. At the top sat Murky staring down at her, and sitting at the front ushering her forward was Red Eye gripping the leads.
"What are you holding up for? You've always done this." Red Eye calls out, shaking the leads, "Fillydelphia needs these ponies! Get moving!"
Stern refuses to pull, trying to get free of the harnessing only to find herself bound in more chains. The more she slipped free, the more that constricted around her limbs. Stern soon found herself encased in links of chain, burying her alive in the impossibly heavy rings of metal until she couldn't move and began falling into an weightless void of constricting chains that dragged her down into infinity.
Stern awoke in a cold sweat with a panicked squawk on the floor next to her bed. The room was silent, save for the distant whirring of machinery echoing across Fillydelphia's ancient buildings. Stern checked the digital clock on her terminal - 2:14AM. She stared at the bright screen through tightly-squinted eyes as she adjusted to the sudden brightness. There was no way she could get back to sleep, this guilt hung on her mind heavier than before. She knew she could do something dumb and rash to save a pony she'd know for all of ten minutes. She knew she'd get them both killed if she tried, and risking Fillydelphia falling apart without her was far too great. She needed to keep this city functioning so Red Eye could stop the Goddess. Stern wasn't sure if Celestia and Luna listened anymore, or if they even cared for the prayers of griffons.
Stern cast her eyes up to the skies above Filly, only greeted with red smog punctuated by the dark Enclave cloud cover. "I can't do it on my own and I have no right to ask after everything I've allowed to be done. Don't let them die tomorrow, and I swear I'll be the one this city needs." Stern spoke quietly to herself, unsure if she was speaking into the void or if anyone at all heard. She couldn't sleep, and just overlooked the city from her office until the sunrise brightened the dim sky, thinking about how she could do right by the ponies of this city regardless. She owed it to them to ease their suffering if she could.
The morning came slowly, Stern found herself unable to sleep with this strife despite her long-standing exhaustion. She alternated between laying awake in bed and staring out over Fillydelphia. Was this really the only way? Stern wanted to put her trust in Red Eye's plans, but she was more than just conflicted with things now. There had to be a peaceful way to go about this, right? Stern's indecision turned to anger as she turned to face her desk and dig out the old photo. The ecstatic younger version of herself stared back, taunting her with the joyful naivety of someone who hadn't yet been crushed and warped by circumstance. The young medic wouldn't have left Murky to die, but she also had no idea that the Goddess wanted to end all life as it was known. The young medic also hadn't been eased into the horrors of the city and told it was all for the greater good.
"Fuck you." Stern set the photo back in the desk, done letting her past taunt her. Stern cradled her head in her talons, seated at her desk. This was the closest she got to sleep until the light of day returned to vaguely illuminate Fillydelphia through the horrid smog and cloud cover. Her tired eyes gazed out the window, dreading the day to come. She'd chosen this path and it was time to take it. One final plea went out to any of those still watching over the world for something, anything, to divert her from this path. At the door to her office, Stern took a deep breath and pushed the medic back down into the darkness. Her headache was back as she stepped out to brief her crew on the week's scheduling in regards to the day off Red Eye had given the slaves.
"So we're not getting the day off too?" a relatively new griffon asks, Kaz or Kazzy was his name, Stern couldn't recall. She glared at him, causing the griffon to recoil.
"No days off for the guards, if we aren't there to shoot at them the Steel Rangers will attempt to break through. I assume they have spies in the city who will report if there's a noticeable lack of guard presence." Stern uses a cold and dry tone to address those with lower rank. It was entirely business, unlike the angry shouts she gave to keep slavers in line.
Two dark gray griffons stared uncomfortably at the scheduling board, they could easily be mistaken for twins if it weren't for the fact the female stood a head taller and carried a nasty scar across her face. The male spoke up, turning to face Stern as other Talons dismissed themselves. "The pit? I-I hate watching them fight down there. Can we trade with Kaz for patrol?"
"Grow a pair and stick with Grim, Somber." Stern growled, motioning to the larger female griffon who leaned her weight from side to side uneasily. "Keep her actually working and not writing in that stupid notebook." Grim frowned at that.
The Somber nodded, heading off reluctantly with Grim. Stern took a good look at the schedule board once more Somber and Grim would be the only ones at the pit besides her. Surely she could find a green raider and maybe get Somber to swap them out. Maybe bribe a couple slavers to make it happen?
5am, the event begun this afternoon, which gave her several precious hours to work with. Stern got to work organizing her plan, in a paper list she'd have to burn for security's sake. Tons of logistical factors swam through her mind, she needed to locate the slavers who would be guarding the pit, bribe them or threaten them, get Somber in on the plan without letting him know anything. Finally, she needed to find a replacement, willing or not.
She needed chems, slavers and raiders alike loved chems. All this needed to be done precisely and quickly. The slave market would be the easiest way to intercept contraband... And she wasn't able to do it herself because she had to follow her own rules. Technically, she didn't know about the 'underground' slave market, or else she'd have to formally shut it down. So she needed to find a slave that would be able to act as a medium first, which required a slaver to be briefly out-of-service.
She needed another look at Murky in order to find a suitable replacement, while she was there she could announce a random drug search which would most definitely cause Whiplash to go hide his stash and maybe use that as leverage to get the services of an errand pony for the morning. Then she needed to send them in with something to trade for a few hits of Med-X, and a good bit of Buck. Or she could confiscate Whiplash's stash and hope he had what she needed. From there she needed to find a replacement for Murky and hide them until a bit before the match, send Somber in with the chemmed-up raider to bribe the guard and actually make the swap. Just in case Somber failed, she needed one final back-up plan. A distraction she could use as a reason to shut the event down if she saw Murky enter the pit, she also needed to find a few troublemakers to keep on call, maybe use Grim to signal them.
She couldn't be there to do it herself since she needed to be visible with Red Eye, and he wasn't worried enough about Littlepip to approve a plan like this where she could slip Murky out as well.
Stern cast her eyes up to the sky once more, she had a feeling that her prayer had been heard by someone and they'd given her that idea. Stern's plan, when written down, didn't look much like a list but a tree of 'if this then go to this step instead'. Sometimes she hated constantly making contingency plans for anything and everything, this was not one of those times. She grabbed three issues of Wingboner magazine from the contraband locker and stuffed them into her armor, then took off after Somber and Grim, prepped with a deal for each of them.
"Hey! You two!" Stern calls out, gaining on the two griffons as they headed towards the pit, "I need you to do me a favor, both of you." Stern held a new amiability as she addressed them.
Not that they could really refuse, Somber spoke for the both of them, "What do you need?"
"I need to make today exciting for Red Eye, he's in the city and he'll be watching the pit event today. Perfect chance to show him that the Talons don't need any budget cuts." Stern danced around the truth, playing a second angle of the same story, one her Talons would understand. "I need Grim to round up a couple troublemakers and give them front-row seats. If I give the signal, Grim passes it down to start a little riot and show Red Eye that our security may need a little extra pay for their work. Somber, you and I are going to be packing the pit's teams for a little more excitement. I need Red Eye watching the pit, not us." They both looked uneasy until Stern reminded them that they'd be first in line to have their contracts cancelled if Red Eye cut the security budget.
"Get a move on, Grim. Get three to ten of the ex-raiders and get them here early with some free booze from the contraband locker. Somber, you head down to the airport and get me Med-X and Buck. Leave the doctor alone, Sooty Moraas has the real product. If he gives you any trouble, ask him if he knows what a gelding is."
"What's all the chems for?" Somber asks, Grim heading off without so much as a peep.
"Buck will make for a better fighter, Med-X will convince the guard to let us make a substitution. Get going, Somber. You have until 11am." Stern taps her talon against a nonexistent watch on her wrist. The griffon takes off towards the airport, leaving Stern confident she could find a replacement for Murky.
5:25am, Stern sometimes outdid herself. Landing on the roof of the petting zoo, Stern slipped in silently and moved along the outer wall until she came across an attached shed where she estimated the enclosure was from the inside. A small portion of the eave was rotted away, allowing Stern to peer into the dark enclosure.
She couldn't see anything, but she could feel a small amount of warmth and the gentle sound of breathing from inside. Stern held up a gemstone light, tapping it a few times to get the emitter to illuminate. It dimly lit the little enclosure, showing the tiny pony curled into a ball in the corner.
Small, dirty green coat, dirty blonde mane, and a little vest of some kind. He woke up with a startled shout, "W-wait no!"
Stern hissed quietly, "Do you want to wake up the whole damn city? Let me get a look at you."
Murky stood, backed against the opposite side of the enclosure to Stern's annoyance. "Come closer."
He took a half-step, prompting Stern to just squeeze her frame through the little opening, surprising herself at how small an opening she could get through.
"Wh-what do you want? The pit isn't starting yet, I'm not hiding from it!"
"Keep your voice down. Let me get a description of you written down."
Murky didn't speak, he just stood in the corner looking confused as ever.
"I'm gonna see if I can find a replacement to go into the pit for you." Stern says, writing down a vague description of Murky on a scrap of paper.
"Why me?" Murky asks, eyes misty from the casual talk of his imminent death.
Stern thought about just why she was doing any of this, she'd been Stern as Fillydelphia knew her for almost ten years but suddenly she was feeling guilty? What had changed? Stern knew the answer stood in her complete inability to push away the voice of her younger self now. "You asked me to save you yesterday. I'm going to protect you." Stern quieted herself, crawling back through the opening.
Murky sat in utter confusion as the griffon from yesterday left, "... Thank you." he wasn't sure of what her purposes were, but if it meant getting him out of the pit he wouldn't question it.
Murky was left in the dark of his hidey hole to wonder if his desperation made him dream of something improbable. The early morning hours were dark as Fillydelphia always was, but there was still time for some sleep, right? Whiplash's angry shouting and a hoof beating on the wall of the enclosure told Murky that the slaver had plans for him to endure one final shift.
"The foundry, go. Wicked Slit will release you to go to the pit after." he says, hesitating to lash Murky as he quickly got beyond the leather's reach.
If Murky had been dreaming, then he'd spent his final hours being whipped and pulling heavily loaded carts of armored barding to and from the foundry to be, he assumed, reinforced with more metal as the return trips were agonizing.
Without so much as a break, a dark grey griffon arrived at the foundry to retrieve Murky halfway through a trip to the factory with a cart of near-immovable mass. The griffon began arguing with Wicked Slit, their voices drowning out through the sound of machinery and distance itself.
Murky's heart skipped a beat as Wicked conceded the shouting match and pointed in his direction. The sting of a whip bounced across his flank, the slaver urging Murky to keep pulling. The griffon approached, meeting Murky far from halfway. He wasn't the strange griffon from this morning or the one from yesterday. Come to think of it, he'd been so focused on eating yesterday and the pit today, he hardly remembered the griffon's looks.
"Murky Number Seven?" the griffon asks, an unsure male with just a single stripe of rank on his armor.
The slaver speaks first, laughing at Murky's clear anxiety, "Yeah, that's him all right."
"You're to report in at the pit. Come with me." the griffon closes in, beginning to pull Murky from the harness.
"Hey, hold on a minute." the slaver drops his whip and gets off of the cart, "He's gotta finish this trip first."
The griffon shrugs, "You do it." and takes off into the skies with the green pony.
Murky wasn't sure if begging would even help, aside from what felt like a fever dream this morning, griffons never interacted with the slaves except to hunt down the runaways.
"They wanted to make sure you were there early." the griffon says, looking forward as Murky was pulled through the sky and given a horrifying view of the world he'd known from above, to gaze down upon so much suffering at once was unthinkable before this. No wonder the griffons and slavers in the catwalks were so desensitized.
The pit, a horrifying hole in the ground dug into the remains of an ice skating rink or sports court of some kind, grew exponentially in size as they approached. Tiny at first, then seeming to swallow them whole as the griffon glided through the open roof of it.
The stadium seating was empty now, save for a few raiders having a small party together in one of the front rows.
Murky was lead through the empty halls unseen to the stadium-goers and promptly pushed into a small, dark closet.
"You keep quiet in there. Not. A. Peep. You hear me?" the griffon growls. Murky backed into the corner and nodded. He shut the door, leaving Murky in the pitch blackness of the janitorial closet.
Like any reasonable pony, he never dared go into the pit. Was this how they treated the pit fighters? Locking them in a cramped dark room until it was time to fight to the death? The little pony curled up and cried himself to sleep to just get it all over with. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, the closet was hot and stuffy from his own meager body heat when he woke up to the noise of cheering ponies and shouts over the loudspeakers.
Scariest of all, the door ahead of him opened to reveal the griffon from before. "Come on." he says, pulling Murky to his hooves and walking him a short distance away to a gate guarded by a slaver. Beyond the first gate was a small area with a bench, another gate, then... Murky could see the area itself, filling him with fear.
The guard affixed a cover to Murky's flank reading a single number. It wasn't 1, he knew at least that digit. Murky was given his place om the bench, sitting the fifth furthest from the second gate. Ahead of him, two raiders, a tiny mare, and an unremarkable stallion who seemed to be full of expositional dialogue. The tiny mare had a computer of some kind on her foreleg, a pipbuck maybe. Murky closed his eyes as the roar of the stadium picked up and the first matches went as painfully as one could imagine ponies fighting to the death in acidic, tainted goo.
With each passing duel, Murky stepped closer to his death. The zebra would certainly kill the little mare, the stallion, then him. Maybe not the big guy in the back though.
The gate behind him unlocked and the dark griffon opened it. The guard groaned happily with a needle in his neck, leaning against the wall for support. The griffon had a raider by the neck who was almost literally frothing at the mouth. "Come on, here's your stand-in." the griffon says, not having to tell Murky twice as he slipped out of the waiting area and gave his flag to the stout, dirty green raider whose excited shouts could barely be distinguished from an animalistic warcry.
Murky then watched as the mare with the pipbuck entered the ring. It all happened so fast... The zebra's head rotated around and the little mare escaped, floating herself up through an opening at the top of the pit's chainlink ceiling.
It was then that chaos broke loose across the pit. The huge pony who had been last in line bulldozed through the unlocked gate, shoving the griffon into the wall, unconscious.
He had been pulled at the last minute. That griffon wasn't a fevered dream! Murky's heart lit up for just a moment at the prospect of having someone looking out for him! This was short-lived, however, as Murky now found himself in the middle of a slave riot. Gunshots and angry shouts rang out outside as the slavers fought to regain control of the drunken, frenzied masses. Murky ran, he needed to be far from here before the riots ended or broke into a full rebellion.
Somber didn't return, this left Stern on the second branch of her contingency plan - Grim. Stern watched over her shoulder as Red Eye looked down to the pit, Littlepip was entering. Up against that zebra, Stern felt she knew the outcome of this. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Following the chaos after Littlepip's escape, the slavers and Talons alike fought to maintain order. This time though, Stern could feel the crowd's excitement, like she was part of the riot. She almost rooted for the slaves.
"Ignore the riots. Make sure the stabledweller does not leave Fillydelphia." Red Eye's voice pulled Stern back to reality as she took off over the crowds in pursuit of the little gray unicorn.
Impressive as Littlepip's skills in evasion were, they were no match for someone who built a career out of chasing runaways. Seriously, good job making a stairway out of pie tins. By the time some of the slavers were able to land a few close pot shots near Littlepip, Stern realized she needed to bring the mare in alive.
She pulled from her armor's side her bullwhip and tucked her wings in, diving in behind Littlepip without a sound. The whip lashed outward and tangled itself in Littlepip's hindlegs, causing her to faceplant into the dirt. Stern leapt on top of the mare and grabbed her horn before she could make use of her telekinesis.
As quickly as her escape began, it was over. Red Eye was going to speak in private with Littlepip about his plan to defeat the Goddess. Such details were kept secret, even from Stern, for the sake of hiding it from the Goddess. "We'll let you in on it when the time is right, I promise. Take care of the riots." Red Eye said.
The riots were quelled after several hours and many bullets fired. The final push at the main gate was repelled and the slaves were forced back into the city despite Stern's subconscious desire to open the gate. As evening pressed on, another thought came to Stern, Murky.
She thought she'd seen him among the crowds, but remained forever unsure if a scenario had played out where he'd been close to escaping only to be sent back by Stern herself. The shame was almost too much for her to try and find him again. He was most likely at the petting zoo.
Again Stern questioned herself, she'd been doing heinous things for years! Why did she suddenly start to care now?! There was once a time not too long ago where the sight of a useless and weak pony like Murky filled Stern with anger, why did she feel a need to protect him of all ponies?! Why did she want to just throw open the gates and let everyone go free? Why was it suddenly so hard to just trust in Red Eye's plans?
En route to the petting zoo, Stern noticed a semi-colorful flash in one of the ruined buildings and diverted her flight path.
The ancient wooden floors cried out as she slipped through the broken window and looked around the remains of what was once an apartment. Her eyes came across a glowing pink bottle. Sparkle Cola Rad.
It was hardly the miraculous, magical thing she'd been hoping for after catching a glimpse. She put it into her sidebag and began to snoop around the apartment, finding nothing too interesting.
Stern found a few utilities bills, some coffee cups, and an old magazine about urban gardening she kept. There was no hidden safe with bullets and bottlecaps, who would even do that?
Stern found in the small bedroom, sitting atop a vanity with a truly hideous wig, a statuette of the yellow and pink pony. Upon reading the inscription, 'Be Kind' Stern quickly stashed it in her bag, she didn't need this, but she wanted to have it. The strange feelings that have been following her everywhere haven't stopped. Red Eye would be busy with Littlepip, Stern needed to see Murky again, and she didn't understand why.
Stern took off out through the window of the apartment and focused in on the petting zoo in the distance.
Was it selfish to have done what she tried to do? To only save one. Again, Stern was weighed down by guilt. She'd ended up too focused on trying to keep the peace, she'd forgotten about making sure Murky was actually okay after the riots. Come to think of it, he could be anywhere.
Stern shook off the worry and set a logical search pattern, she needed to be on her game and not fretting feathers. Prediction. By what little she knew of Murky, Stern built a profile. He was small and dealt with bullying so probably shy and likely to avoid conflict and stay away from the more dangerous areas. She didn't know where he was when the riots broke out so he may have bunkered down somewhere near the pit. However, there has been an extensive round-up, so he likely was sent back to the Fun Farm in the moderate possibility he was found. The best route of action was to start at the petting zoo and work back to the pit.
Deep down, Stern was still worried he'd been hurt without her there to guard him. The buildings grew closer as Stern's flight path became a low and shallow glide across the rooftop of the oversized barn. Gazing down across the pens, Stern spotted the outcropped shed. Murky was not there, but there was a small notebook. Tempting as it was, Stern dared not invade someone's privacy like that. Stern lurked around the upper catwalks of the Fun Farm, keeping an eye out for the little green pony who just hadn't resurfaced much to Stern's dismay.
She'd hoped to have seen Murky return, and was reluctant to trace back to the pit in case she missed him. Stern would be in ruins if Murky was injured, or worse, during the riots. Looking for a needle in a haystack would have been a simpler task than this. Despite Stern's keen eye, there simply was far too much detail to sift through to pick out for a single pony.
It was by sheer luck that on the way back to the pit, three ponies caught Stern's attention. Purely because, while most of Fillydelphia was hit with a new wave of somber sobriety following a failed escape riot and were slowly cleaning or walking back to their enclosures, these three ponies were chasing something she'd yet to see. She saw a tiny figure slip into an equally tiny alleyway between two buildings. Stern's heart raced with excitement and worry, for having possibly found Murky and for how he seemed to have gotten himself into trouble.
Stern's wings tucked in as two of the ponies split up, circling around the buildings, she wasn't able to get a good view and dropped down onto the rooftops. The ancient wood and metal construction was awful for grip, making her come to a very loud, skidding halt as her talons dug into the corrugated sheet metal. The noise was just enough to stop them in their tracks long enough for the pony they were chasing to disappear over the fence and into the nearby junkyard.
Stern took off back into the air again, more interested in the pony they were chasing. The tight turns and numerous piles of junk and scrap metal made aerial surveillance difficult, Stern slipped down to the ground and stalked after the beating of tiny hooves on compacted ground.
She turned a corner, the little blur of dim color slipping under her legs and sliding to a stop. Stern leapt, old combat instincts kicking in the same as when she'd helped New Apploosa deal with a few mutant snakes. She never found out where they were coming from though.
A quick look told Stern everything she needed to know. Green coat, yellow mane, vest, undersize- no. Horribly, horribly malnourished. She dared not touch him for fear of breaking him.
"Y-you're..." Murky stared, fear turning to recognition, "From this morning. Th-the pit!"
An astonished silence hung between them, interrupted only by the distant whine of machinery.
Murky Number Seven stares up at Stern, the viscerally terrifying second-in-command to Red Eye, the one that slavers cowered in the presence of, probably the most merciless killer in all of Fillydelphia whose machine-like, ruthless efficiency scared even the most deranged sadists sober enough to stay on her good side, and he felt strangely safe. Or maybe he'd accepted this was the moment he was about to die and gave up on being afraid.
Stern was unsure of what to say from here, she wanted to be friendly, to extend some form of kindness, to make a friend, but she didn't know how anymore. The circumstances were far too different, other Talons were willing to accept the state of Fillydelphia, thinking all the ponies to be deranged tribals, they were too afraid of Stern to be anything but professional. Slavers were, put shortly, evil. Stern would only extend them a talon to gut them for making this city so tainted.
Red Eye himself was a tolerable presence, but a clear psychopath. His charm was superficial, but his plan to stop the Goddess made him necessary. Stern would have killed him if she thought she could take over, but the power vaccuum would collapse quickly in that event.
But this little slave, he was something different. The first pony she'd met in this city that wasn't evil. She found herself needing to protect him. Stern didn't know why these memories and emotions resurfaced when they did, they made her alive again. Like she'd just died when she came to Fillydelphia and had been a shambling corpse until yesterday.
Murky lunged forward, almost causing Stern to jump as he latched onto her forelimb. "Th-thank you! Thank you so much!" the little pony squeals, clinging tightly to Stern.
He smelled like he'd been in a sewer, looked halfway to becoming a ghoul, but Stern pulled him into a gentle hug whch was probably the first one either of them had in years. A reciprocated show of affection took Murky by surprise, who seemed to tense up for a moment, thinking that he was about to be reprimanded.
The awkward pause that fell when both seemed to know a hug shouldn't last this long yet neither wanted to let go was interrupted by shouting that grew closer with the heavy pounding of hooves.
It appeared the three ponies chasing Murky were not deterred for long by Stern's observation, they rounded the corner just in time to see Stern turn to face them, the hug already broken. It would only take one wrong word to the wrong pony for information to travel upstream through the slaves and slavers who already hated Stern and reach Red Eye. Information wouldn't travel through the Talons fortunately, as Stern held all their contracts and could terminate them at will.
"Where'd ya go r-" a dirty brown stallion with a yellow mane paled to a ghostly white and came to a stop in front of Stern, his two followers ran into his rump and caused a three-pony collision.
Hiding Murky behind her legs, Stern narrowed hr eyes, "What the hell are you doing out of your enclosure, slaves?" she hated the word now, but it helped to be able to exude the slaver mentality when needed.
"W-we're, uh, lookin' for a pony we saw run off this way." the mare spoke up, Stern noticed upon her flank was a familiarly looped bit of rope.
"Get back to your enclosure before I have you three dumped into the parasprite pits!" Stern had barely finished her order before they took off.
Alone again, Stern saw that she'd scared Murky off as well. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Murk?" Stern spoke aloud, "You still there?" she asked to silence in the junkyard. Crestfallen, she continued to search around the scraps for her friend to no avail. He must have been scared off by the gangers, hopefully not by her shouting. Stern had been angry, loud, and violent for so long, could she be someone's friend at this point?
The evening was growing into twilight and Stern needed to be present for the Talon debriefing regarding the riots today. After that, she was invited to dinner with the higher-ups of Red Eyes ranks. She hoped Murky would be safe until she found him next. He needed medication among many things, like being out of Fillydelphia entirely.
"I'll... See you later I guess..." Stern took off, heading back to the Alpha-Omega.
Stern got a story from all her Talons on their work through the day, tracing when and how they'd been able to respond to the riots. Her original system of lights on the wall only accounted for incidents near the border, leaving central areas up to word of mouth. Her next change in the emergency operations would now include a red and green flare. A green flare meant only a few Talons were needed and they could approach with caution. A red flare would alert the walls and put the city on lockdown with emergency procedures Stern then discussed.
She grew to dislike security and logistical work. This would be so much easier if they could be issued radio communication devices.
Following the debrief, Stern was requested for a banquet with Red Eye and his guest of honor, Littlepip. She could empathize, Red Eye certainly appeared to know what he was doing in regards to running this city. After all, he was the figurehead of this entire regime.
Rather than dress up, Stern simply removed her Talon armor and traded for a lighter leather holster to carry a knife and 10mm pistol she kept for times when the anti-machine rifle was too much.
"Stern, I'm certain you remember the stabledweller Littlepip." Red Eye greets her as she entered the banquet hall, followed by the gray mare herself. She wore clean Stable 101 barding while Red Eye dressed in a clean pre-war coat. All three of his students, all unicorns, overdressed for the occasion by wearing suits.
Littlepip's smile was familiar yet awkward, as if she'd met on friendly terms with someone who'd attacked her before. "I wish we'd met differently." she joked, extending a hoof for Stern to shake.
Dinner was, well it was the better foods taken from the stockpiles. Stern looked down at the reconstituted meat and wondered why her soil purification research was snubbed. Would Red Eye rather this garbage than admit Stern had a good idea outside of how to keep productivity up? Stern focused on listening in to Littlepip being introduced into Red Eye's inner circle.
She made quick friends with the group of them, but it appeared Littlepip was in on Red Eye's plan far more than even his students were. She danced around some of their more intimate questions, prying to hear what Red Eye had planned.
Stern's observant nature caught something interesting; a nervous twitch of Littlepip's hoof, her wide eyes, the way her eyes darted quickly as she spoke circles around some of the most asute ponies in the city without them realizing she was avoiding their questions. She was on something.
Certainly was stampede, buck, or rage. Maybe dash, but probably mint-als. Stern wondered why she'd need chems, an addiction maybe? Or was she less intelligent than Red Eye made her out to be? Couldn't be that. Red Eye wouldn't feed her addiction to keep her around, would he? Had he actually convinced her to join him?
Stern almost laughed - 'friend' how could these say that and ignore the entirety of what happens below? "So, you grew up in a Stable? I hear most of them have some horrible experiment go wrong in them, how'd you survive that?"
Littlepip nodded, "Yep, Stable 2 actually. I guess we got lucky, never had anything go wrong except occasional leaks and breaks."
Dinner felt like it dragged on for hours, though it wasa rather small affair. There was music and drinks following the meal. Stern cut out of the event shortly after, mentioning some business to take care of to Red Eye.
Exiting the middle levels of the hotel, Stern stood on the rooftop as a few alicorns descended. Like always, they paid her no mind unless they were directly looking for her. Must be one of the disadvantages of only having one mind to share between hundreds of bodies. Stern wanted to go out and find Murky again, but maybe it would be too soon? She was risking a lot every time she interacted directly with him. Still, she could observe without much problem.
While the ponies of the petting oo enclosure slept, Stern sat in the dark catwalks above watching. She'd noticed the remains of the pigsty had been destroyed some time today. This meant Murky was somewhere else nearby, probably hidden.
Silently, Stern traversed overhead where the spritebots never looked. The technology that kept them aloft didn't allow for hovering more than a few feet over the ground nor did it allow for upward scanning. In fact, a few years back Stern had some of their operating parameters changed solely to focus on ground-level movement to keep her Talons off of the security network because they kept setting off alerts on the old Ministry of Morale network whenever they flew overhead. Not sure who previously used the spritebots, but they were set mainly to detect pegasi when Red Eye took over Fillydelphia.
This was pointless, Stern couldn't seem to find her friend, and even if she did she wouldn't want to interrupt his precious few hours of sleep. She needed sleep herself, too.
Back in her office, Stern dug through her personal supplies. Whatever Murky was ailed by, she had to have something to remedy it. In her closet hidden inside a little hooflocker was an huge and dusty Ministry of Peace saddlebag. There was a time when she'd been prepared for anything and everything. Some of the Talons she first deployed with called it her 'mobile hospital' because it had everything from miles of surgical thread on big spools, to poles to set up curtains, a foldable overhead light and a wide array of various medical supplies she'd sold everything she had to purchase before deploying.
Time had rendered most of her emergency medicines expired or otherwise unusable aside from the magical wasteland staples that never seemed to expire. It happened to be that those were what she'd been looking for. The faint glow of what was once a super restoration potion indicated that exposure to the higher radiation of Fillydelphia had weakened it to near worthlessness over the decade. Her supply of radaway had blackened because it wasn't kept in one of thoe Ministry of Peace extended storage medical boxes. Seriously, medicine left in those things never went bad even after 200 years.
Swearing under her breath, Stern continued to dig through her old saddlebag. Maybe she could make a concentrate of her whole supply?
Taking everything into the next room, her hidden lab, made when a hotel room adjacent to Stern's had it's entrance built over as that section of the hall turned into a tactical barricade. Stern watched as all the weak potions she possessed boiled down to a half of a single container. She understood why medical supplies were so scarce in Fillydelphia, they needed to be imported or made locally. Stern cursed, looking at the half-full bottle of fiercely glowing hot pink liquid. She'd have to get some from the hospital or maybe the merchants who kept the slavers supplied.
Nearby Stern's workstation sat a small book she'd been making on the purification of soil. It had limited use and needed to be protected from the environment but if done properly with sanitized crops, non-mutated foods could be grown. Maybe Red Eye hadn't considered the slaves here worth that kind of effort. Stern set the health potion back near her bed, she'd find Murky tomorrow and give it to him. Enough to keep him alive until she could get another supply.
The next morning, Stern awoke to chills. Filydelphia usually kept itself warm under a thick cloud of smog and industrial heat, but it was winter and yesterday's lack of activity allowed a cold front to roll across the city bringing stiff winds with it. Her morning went as they usually did, with an exchange of shifts from night to morning as Talons relieved others of their patrol zones or posts. If slavers followed their guidebooks, they'd be changing shifts in an hour as well. If Red Eye needed her presence he'd send one of... those things to find her. But it seemed he was out of Fillydelphia again, heading back with Littlepip to oversee his schools and whatever was being done out at the cathedral. Stern had only been a few a times to meet the students on some 'field trip at home'. They'd never seen a griffon before, which made for some interesting reactions. Mainly they just wanted to see her beak and wings.
She stopped by her quarters once more to prepare a thermos of vegetable soup. By noon, Stern had slipped around most of Fillydelphia looking for the little green pony. The hospital was a difficult place for Stern to be, even when she thought she could push off the more moral side of her, being there just flipped a switch and she sort of fell in line trying to help those who were injured. She couldn't help it and just stayed away from the hospital because of it. She'd focus and go by there later to get some medicine for him.
Work had begun again in Fillydelphia, the sound of machines present again in the echoing chorus above the city. Shortly after her very late lunch, Stern spotted something glowing in the air above where the airport was. A green flare!
While it was nice to see the Talons taking to her operating procedures already, it meant a riot was underway. Again! Oh come on, there was just one yesterday! Stern banked her wings and diverted from her course to the hospital. Her flight path was much higher than normal on approach, Stern was trying to get a look at the action but it seemed most of the riot was happening inside the terminal.
However, movement caught Stern's eye as she moved over the control tower. A pony small enough to make Stern roll in mid-flight and climb up through the air to double check. Stern's blood ran cold as Murky stepped off the edge of the control tower. She rushed across the rooftop, turning the corner down after him. With her size and armor, Stern dropped much faster than he could fall, grabbing the little pony in her arms halfway down. She brought Murky back up to the rooftop, scowling at him with teary eyes, "What in the hell were you thinking?" her voice choked up, "Y-you..." Stern swallowed and brought back her composure, "Sit down and calm down."
Murky looked worse than usual, covered in bruises and cuts, something had given him a black eye and a busted lip. Stern cradled Murky for a few seconds, "What were you thinking?" she asks in a barely audible voice, setting him down on his hooves.
Stern didn't say anything, setting him down and undoing the little side bag for Murky. She set it down and walked over to again hug the quivering little pony. "Are you okay? What happened?" she asks, sitting down to hold Murky against herself. He felt cold.
The question didn't help, as Murky began to bawl into her chest, blubbering a barely-coherent string of the day's events through her feathers. From Wicked Slit threatening him to the slave market to the gangers again to Sooty Moraas trying to use him to the mean doctor telling him he was going to die to... Murky went quiet. "I don't want you to hate me too."
Given everything he'd been through, Stern couldn't think of any reason she would hate him. "I promise I won't."
Murky went silent, trying to gauge Stern's absence of prejudice. He must have decided in her favor, slowly, he took off the torn vest, revealing tiny wings fitting a tiny pony.
While it seemed pegasi were universally loathed, even among griffons who hated them for their recent ransacking of Griffonstone and other mountainous lands, Stern no longer found such blind hatred in her heart. Murky winced in anticipation as Stern lifted a wing from Murky's side with an uncharacteristically gentle talon.
"Now why in the world would I hate you for these?" Stern feels a pulse of magic coming from her bag. Be Kind. That statuette had to be cursed or something.
Tearing up once more, Murky stared at the first one in this city to be kind to him, the first one who didn't hate him for his wings. The griffon who suddenly always seemed to be there when he needed some help. Murky watched as Stern opened up her bag. The griffon who just showed up with a meal and free medicine just for him after what was arguably the worst day he'd ever experienced trying to solve his own problems only to realize they'd all been using him. All of them except Stern hopefully.
"I brought you something." Stern says, carefully setting up the thermos of still-warm soup for him. Murky had no words for the waves of relief that washed over him after the bit of healing potion, but also for the fact he'd been pulled from death's door in more ways than one.
Stern took note of Murky's story, 'Sooty Moraas'. Given the conditions of Fillydelphia, she could excuse a lot of morally-questionable behavior but something about the way he intended to indenture Murky through withholding medicine just upset her in a way that not even the medic would talk her down. She'd pay him a visit.
The smog of rage lifted as soon as she noticed Murky having gotten soup across his muzzle, their impromptu picnic turning the rooftop into a happier place. It brought Stern an untold level of joy to see him happy. She still didn't understand why, she just did. "I'll find you tomorrow with another round of healing potions, I had to make due with what I had for that one."
"Could I..." Murky paused, clearly worried about asking for too much, "Could you bring me radaway? Th-the doctor said my lung infection was irradiated."
Stern nods, "I'll find some."
It felt so different, Artery had called him an 'irradiated little shit' and told him to go die because he had nothing to trade, but Stern was going to find what he'd asked for and asked for nothing in return. It brought a sense of foreboding, like she was going to hold this over his head at some point. She'd never do that, right?
Murky had one more question for Stern, he didn't want to go back. Wicked Slit, the gangers, all the ponies who'd seen his wings, it filled Murky with terror that made him shiver. "Stern?" he speaks up, "I-I..." the words caught in Murky's throat, he was afraid this would be too much to ask. "I don't want to be here any longer..."
Stern's face saddened, she knew what he was about to ask. "Please? Can you take me away from here?"
She sighed, "I can't leave Fillydelphia, we're all contracted to Red Eye. Breaching contract is punishable by death. If I took you away from here, he'd never stop hunting for me." Stern never thought about her life like this before, she'd always seen herself as in charge of this city, but she was...
"You're a slave too?" Murky asks, his own mood dampened.
"Mhmm..."
"Oh... I thought all the griffons were just hired."
"The contracts are slated to end a long time from now, when Red Eye says he'll bring back peace to the world and we don't need to fight anymore. The contract is cancelled only if the holder chooses to cancel. I can release all the other Talons, but only Red Eye can release me."
Stern's wing extends and blankets over Murky, whose head hung lower, "If I could, I'd take you far from here. To the eastern edge of Griffonia where I grew up seeing the sun."
Murky's ears perked up curiously, "What's it like?"
"Bright, warm. Almost like being near a campfire, but far more gentle a heat."
The rest of the evening went along peacefully, Murky and Stern talked the hours away until it got dark, the orange smudge of sunset slowly disappearing in the distance. "I really should get back to the petting zoo. I-I think I'll have to explain to Wicked Slit that Sooty wouldn't help me out." Murky says, worrying about the slavers.
Stern's wing shifted, scooting Murky up against Stern's side, "Don't worry about any of them, okay? I said I'd protect you."
Murky's concern still worn apparently on his face, "I-I gotta go... Thank you, Stern."
Stern leaned in, her face closer to Murky's, then...
Boop!
Murky smiled once more as her beak touched to his nose, "Before I go, can I ask you one more thing?"
Stern nods, "Anything, Murk."
"Why are you protecting me? Every time I needed you, you just appeared. Earlier when I tried to... I saw you really cared, I saw it in your eyes. But I don't understand why you care. Nopony has ever cared about me like this but my mom. Why are you doing all this for me?"
That was a lot more than just one question, Stern rubs the back of her head, trying to think of a good reason. "I don't really know why exactly, I just do. I can tell you don't deserve to be here, and when I look at you I want to take you somewhere safe." It hardly felt like a good explanation, but Stern was still coming to terms with this sudden access to a range of emotions she'd shut away a long time ago when she began working in Fillydelphia.
With Murky flown back to the petting zoo with a promise of medicine and food the next day, Stern needed to reevaluate her list of ponies. Murky's most immediate threat was the three gangers who could not be allowed to make it back to the petting zoo tonight. The ponies of the airport terminal were currently on lockdown following the riots, according to Murky's story the gangers started that riot and were likely still there.
The guards at the terminal knew to get out of Stern's way while the Talons were performing an investigation. Ponies were put in chains and detained while they got sorted and the culprits were found out.
"Hey you three." Stern chirps, spotting the three ponies in the far corner of the terminal, "You're late for your shift in the parasprite pits!"
Ponies don't usually survive parasprite clearing operations, but no one survives hurting Murky. Was it wrong to force those ponies to their deaths? Maybe, but if Stern didn't look out for him, she couldn't trust they wouldn't kill him. Regardless, they were some of the only ones at the terminal who could provide a positive ID of Murky. This was just cleaning up loose ends to protect him.
The slaver camps were quiet in the dead of night, Stern stopped by the guards at the gate, briefly mentioning she needed to speak with Wicked Slit about tomorrow's operations. She located the right tent and found Wicked Slit asleep soundly in her bed. From her pack, Stern pulled several needles. It was six syringes of Med-X, the powerful painkiller chem. One full syringe would make a pony out of commission. Three ran a risk of killing a pony. Six would kill anything.
Stern roughly woke Wicked, pinning her in bed with one hand grabbing her horn and the other jamming the Med-X syringe into her neck. Wicked Slit thrashed and struggled for a few seconds before relaxing. Stern poked her with a second needle.
"H-hey... Don't..." Wicked Slit seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes open, making very minimal efforts to block Stern from poking her with the third needle. Wicked slowed down further, unable to put together full words. Stern left two more doses of Med-X in her flank before Wicked Slit stopped breathing.
Stern waited several minutes to make sure she didn't start up again and walked back out to the guards. "Get a doctor out here, I think Wicked Slit overdosed." Stern grumbled with the feigned annoyance of someone realizing a coworker was drunk again.
The guards headed over to Wicked's tent and then ran off to get a doctor. Almost an hour later, she was pronounced dead. Just another slaver idiot who went through the 'Fillydelphia withdrawals' a term given to the way some slavers accidentally killed themselves by overdosing as soon as they get any amount of chems after being forcefully sobered by the lack of drugs available within the city.
The gangers were most likely dead, Wicked Slit would probably not survive long in her coma, that was it for ponies who were threats to Murky's safety. All that remained for tonight was the merchant who held the medical supplies she'd need for Murky. Stern let herself in through the back entrance of his shop and found Sooty asleep, the tall earth pony wasn't corded with muscle nor was he lanky and thin. He sat with an average build which was quite unusual given the consistent lack of food in the city. Stern gave the sleeping pony a good punch to the back of the head that threw him onto his side and put him in a much deeper sleep while she grabbed what she needed from his supply. She also picked up what appeared to be the same leather bound sketchbook she'd seen at the petting zoo before. The book's contents were none of her business, it had to belong to Murky! It was the same tantalizing tome of secrets she'd never look at unless he allowed. Sooty was a rather nasty pony, but he hadn't directly tried to hurt Murky which is why Stern didn't gut him. It would probably teach Sooty some humility to start again from the bottom. Though, if he ever became a threat he wouldn't even live long enough to regret it.
Unaware to Stern, back at the petting zoo, Murky had been noticed by a different slaver.
