A mountain range, copper red in the rising sun, cast long, cold shadows that were slowly shrinking back into the mountains as the sun climbed the cloudless sky. Sacred trotted slowly, leaning on Decimus for support. The stubborn Zebra had refused to take breaks over the night for fear of losing another slave to the wastes. During their last rest-stop, one of the slaves had laid down, closed her eyes and never woke up. Her carcass was dragged along behind the group by a slaver. The rest of the slaves were in a state - their tongues lolled out of their mouths, dry and swelled. But the worst were their flanks and backs - 2 long days of whipping by the slavers had left them bloody and raw to such an extent that Decimus explicitly banned the use of whips until they were handed over to the Beaners, the clan that owned the slaves.

A sea of tents sat at the base of one of the larger mountains, covered on three sides by a high wall. The Beaner's, despite the silly name, were actually a rather important faction in the slaving world. After the fall of Fillydelphia, a significant minority of slavers made their way in the lawless wastelands of the North-West, where NCR control was weak and slaving was still commonplace. The Beaner's took the name due to their former control of a large bean plantation in the South, which had since become overrun by the NCR. The name had stuck, unfortunately. The Beaner's were pushed into the North West with their small contingent of slaves and had finally settled near a small, dusty mountain range, where they had taken a particular interest in the hills around the area. There, they had exploded, with an army of slaves surpassing 500, giving them the largest slave stock in all of the North. From what Sacred could gather, the slaves were had been used to mine into the hills to presumably extract ore. The Beaner's were lead by a rough, one-eyed stallion who called himself the Grand Beaner. The Grand Beaner fancied himself as a successor to Red Eye and often spent time rubbing flanks with the rich and affulent members of Vanhoover, the closest city. He rarely took visits to "Fort de Beaner", as it was commonly called and controlled his empire from the confines of his Vanhoover mansion.

As they approached Fort de Beaner, signs of life began appearing along the beaten track. Broken wagon wheels, used cartridges, empty needles and even bones lay littered along the path. The slavers had erected a rough wooden sign at the top of the final hill. "Beware! Beaner teritoree iz ere!", it warned. Sacred squinted as the evening sun stung his eyes and blinked several times, the bright light leaving its mark on his eyesight for several moments. He had seen many slaver camps in his years on the wastelands but none as big or mighty as this. The ragtag group was fast approaching the camp now and the tracker could see the walls clearly.

They were made of sheets of iron, crudely stuck into the ground and supported by planks. The fort was backed against the hills and mountains, so there was only three directions to escape from. For roughly 100 feet on all three sides was clear of all signs of life, presumably so the watch ponies could see any runaways with ease. Towers sat along intervals and the occasional glint of a shining rifle in the sunlight could be seen. The gates were an equally simple affair - two towers sat on either side and the gates themselves looked like they'd been specially made. Knowing the pure grandiose of this camp, they probably had. They were made of a thick metal, painted a deep maroon. It looked as though they were a pain to open and close (for the slaves, anyway...)

"Well..." murmured Decimus. "This is the famous Fort de Beaner". One slave behind him groaned audibly at the sight of it. The slavers wooped at its sight and gave one of the slaves a kick on the rump in joy. "You'll be working hard, now, won'cha?" smirked a slaver, looking around his stock. They didn't even lift their heads to answer. Those that had lifted their heads just dropped them again at the sight of the infamous slaver fort.

Except one.

The unicorn the slaves called Lank, the unicorn with the shaved mane who proudly kept her head up and her eyes forward. She was the one that Sacred had been thinking about the whole walk to Fort de Beaner. That image of her beautiful smile had stuck to his mind and although he tried hard not to, he had occasionally glanced back at her. She kept his line of eyesight and smiled softly, although it was nothing compared to that first smile. She was rather plain to look at but there was something about her that had Sacreds heart racing. It was possible he was in love. But Sacred had been in Equestria longer than that. He'd heard tales of Unicorn mares so beautiful they'd gobble up poor, unsuspecting stallions and wrap them around their left hooves. He'd even seen such a mare once- while in a bar in Manehattan, he'd seen a relatively plain Unicorn followed by a group of drooling Earth pony stallions who would follow her command without question. They felt such "love" for this mare they'd stolen and killed. Perhaps thing had happened to him.

"All right, Sacred, stay in my sight all the time we're in there. Things should be all right but I don't want to lose my star stallion to some greedy, butt-fucking slaver" muttered Decimus to his tracker, glancing back at the slavers. They were too busy flirting with Bliss or berating slaves to notice. The pony from Prance nodded and shifted his weight unsteadily so he no longer leaned on the Zebra and instead stood alongside him.

"Right, you lot. Buck yourselves up. We're going into Fort de Beaner and I want to get my money's worth" barked Decimus, giving the slavers a death glare. "Bliss, up here with me". Bliss gave a longing look at the slaver before bounding up to be beside Decimus. Sacred saw a pang of jealousy appear in the Zebra's eyes. He clearly didn't like Bliss talking with the slavers or the way they stared at her backside as she bounded towards him. He didn't say a word to Bliss - he didn't need to. She scared any potential mare-nappers off with her horrific smile and the rifle strapped to her back. The slavers set about organising the slaves, who obediently got into a straight line. The unhooked the dead slave from the chains and tossed her corpse aside like rubbish before hooking the rest back onto the chain line.

"Lets go then. Let me and the slavers do the talking. I'll see if I can get you some food while we're in there, Sacred. You look like you've been starving yourself for too long" said Decimus, smiling at his tracker. Sacred only nodded, his thoughts engrossed on the unicorn known as Lank. He'd almost forgotten about the pangs of hunger in his stomach and had supplemented them with water. He took a swig from his water flask only to discover not a drop had entered his mouth. It had all been drank already. The Prench pony let the bottle drop around his neck in annoyance before continuing his walk towards the forts red gates.

They were almost there. By the end of tomorrow, Sacred would be asleep in a bunk somewhere in Vanhoover with a full belly and a throat drenched in as much as wine as he could drink. He'd need it after all this.

After he abandoned the most beautiful unicorn he'd ever seen to the chains of slavery.

A light breeze swept through the street causing a few discarded papers to skip along the ground. The sickly brown grass protruding between cracks in the floor bounced lazily along with it. If you glossed over her earlier near death experience, it was quite a pleasant afternoon.
Nexus trotted down the street, wary despite the apparent calm of her surroundings. From her experience, it was always the calm moments that were most dangerous. It seemed that the wasteland would taunt her with calm moments to relax her guard then strike when she thought she was safest.
Her walk from the hospital had so far been quiet. She still limped a little from where she'd been hit but at least most of the pain had been taken by the potions.

She took the opportunity while things appeared calm to poke her head inside a few buildings. Most of them were burnt out shells or had long since been looted of all their useful contents but she was able to find a bit of food and some collected rainwater to take the edge off the gnawing sensation in her stomach.

Ahead, the street opened up into some sort of square. Nexus approached cautiously and peered out into the open space. Her ears strained for any signs of danger but she heard nothing. The square seemed as quiet and calm as the street before. At its centre was a cracked fountain and a few rotten benches occupying patches of burnt grass. Nothing seemed out of place or threatening.

Tentatively, she stepped out from the street and began to walk about the edge of the open area reluctant to fully expose herself. She'd just made it halfway around the perimeter the sound of gunshots filled the air followed by whoops of excitement.
Nexus bolted for a doorway, ignoring the sharp pain in her leg and dived inside. She waited expecting her attackers to storm in any second. No one came. Instead the sound of gunfire continued and now she had a moment to focus, it seemed to be a few streets away from her.

Heart pounding, Nexus got to her hooves and continued through the building. Hopefully she would see whoever was firing before they saw her and figure how best to avoid them.
Moving as fast as she dared, she ascended a staircase to the next floor and approached a window.

Pulling her hood up to hide her pale coat and purple mane, Nexus looked over the sill and down into the street. The sound of gunshots drew nearer. Suddenly a colt appeared running flat out, ragged mane and tail waving behind him and fear clear on his face. Moments later his pursuers appeared and her heart sank. Two ponies in fierce looking armour ran past the window moments behind the colt. From the whips at their side and chains hanging loosely from the saddlebags there could be no mistake. Slavers. They whooped and jeered as they gave chase but it was clear who would eventually win. It was just for their amusement at this point.

Nexus ducked behind the sill, panic surging through her. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hooves around herself protectively. She wouldn't go back, if they came for her she wouldn't let them take her again. She caught her breath suddenly aware she had been hyperventilating. All around the streets had fallen silent again. It seemed the chase had moved on or it was over. Either way, it was clear the streets weren't safe. Shakily, Nexus let herself drop to the floor and curl up. She'd wait until it got dark before continuing.

Hoover Wasteland

“Why were you even there?” Rusted questioned with a bitter cynical breath. He rose a brow as the wobbling, mud-covered foal crawled out from under the sink space. A messy mane fell in chaotic twisted locks down the side of his face, barely hiding the small blunt horn on the top of his head. He gave a crooked yellow smile as he pulled himself out of the dingy mold of the cabinet space.

“I-I was hiding...” she said ruefully, “I-I tried to do something to save them, I could have. But I didn't. I just ran. I swear, I didn't do anything!” she shouted guiltily. Rusted looked over to the quizzically unaware Brahmin and let out a long dry sigh. The walls of the ruined house rumbled as a bolt of lightning shook the overhead skies.

“Who?” Rusted asked.

“M-my aunt, and my uncle.” the small unicorn groaned, kicking nervously at the linoleum with a weakened hoof. “Or, I don't think they are at least. One's a Pegasi no older than my sister last I saw her and the other's a grumpy earth pony twice her age. They're certainly loud together, but I don't understand how they can be related. I think it's something my parents told me when they sent me out.”

Rusted blinked dryly. “So why the pout?”

“I- I'm to embarrassed to admit it.” she shivered, withdrawing back under the counter, “Just, don't shoot me on your way out.”

“I wouldn't waste a bullet, kid.” Rusted replied in a heavy tone, “You'd be far too expensive for me to kill. Do you know the price of a magazine of 9mm bullets run up here?”

The comment didn't make the filly feel any better and she lowered her emerald eyes to the floor, sulking back into the shadows. She disappeared into the darkest reach of the cupboard and curled up, his pale green coat tucked away from the light.

“Listen, I know you're still in there and that isn't going to help.” Rusted said.

“I know.” the small voice squeaked from inside.

“This storm's going to take a while. Why don't you tell me straight what happened. To pass the time.” he demanded. In truth, in any other situation he wouldn't care. Wouldn't get involved. But he was shut in here with her now. And needed to wait out the rain.

“No.” the filly whined. “If you think I'm not even worthy a shitty bullet then why don't you let me be?” it sobbed.

Rusted rolled his eyes and turned from the counter. Cursing softly under his breath as he walked away. With a hard umph he collapsed to the cold ground and stretched himself out on the floor. His Brahmin followed suit, laying herself down next to him. 'Like a fucking dog.' the merchant thought to himself.

He lay on the ground, listening to the rain outside. The pattering and turned up to a heavy roar. The falling drops slamming against the roof like bombs. Each gust of wind rustled the feeble glass panes in the rotting frames. And somewhere the mold-preserved timbers of the post-remains groaned and cracked. Rusted breathed deeply as he drifted off to nap.

“I'm hungry.” the filly's small voice said from under the sink. Rusted lifted a lid half way and looked over to the far side of the room. There she stood half out of the cupboard. She averted her eyes from him the moment she noticed he was looking up. Instantly she apologized, “S-sorry.” she grimmaced.

“What do you want?” Rusted groaned.

“What?”

“If you're hungry, what do you want to eat?”

“Ah- uh...” started the filly, “Sugar Apple Bombs?”

Rusted sat up, looking up at the Brahmin. One of its heads starred off blankly to the wall while another turned itself lethargically to Rusted. Ignoring its blank bovine stare he looked to its back, “Top bag, side pouch.” he said, “But it'll cost you.”

“Um, how much? I don't have anything on me in case you didn't know!?” she shouted, stomping a hoof.

“A story. Tell me what happened.” Rusted said.

The filly's eyes went wide and she shirked back. Freezing before she withdrew into the cupboard. With a nervous whine she complied, no doubt hearing the grumble of her own stomach. “Ok...” she said nervously.”

“M-my name is Gilded Wonder, I was sent out to work with my 'aunt' Skyborne and 'uncle' Noble Plume.” she started as she walked slowly around Rusted, “My parents had a robot fixed up for me when I was newborn to try and protect me in the Manehatten outskirts, its name was Entourage. My dad fit it with an mannequin to make me feel better, and well it's never come off since...”

She crept tensely around Rusted, “And, uh... We got as far as half-ish a day down the road when we were attacked.”

She was far enough out of the cupboard that Rusted could make out the muddied and stained cutie mark on her flank. A solid gold leaf. He wondered how any pony could get something like that. “That's when raiders happened.” she continued. Her voice cracked and broke around the word raider, and she fell silent as she pulled out a box of sugar apple booms with her magic. She smiled nervously as she trotted to a far corner and dug right into the box.

“And?”

“Well...” she mumbled... “T-they happened... And... ah- they killed the caravan.” she choked, “Knocked out and carried off entourage and all our supplies.”

“what were your aunt and uncle hauling?” Rusted asked.

“W-why!?” she shouted, shocked and appauled.

“One merchant's lost haul is another's treasure. As much as fighting is so fun,” he said sarcastically, “it might have to be your payment.”

“You're not taking Entourage!” the filly roared, shooting to her hooves. Her horn glowed defensively as she scowled.

“No, of course not. He's yours. I just want your relation's haul. Where did they go?”

She froze, hesitating for a bit. “N-north.” she groaned, “I saw them go n-north before they chased me away.”

“Are you in a condition to lead me?” Rusted asked.

“I- uhm... Maybe. I can hide, I guess. Is this part of the pay too?”

“No. You just have a better idea than what you gave me. Eat up, we'll move when the storm clears.”

Fort de Beaner, Equestrian Wastelands (North)

"I won't warn you again. Stay back" screamed the watchmen, his rifle flashing in the dying light.

"Come on, Buckskin, les'in!" shouted the slaver back at him, from the base of the gate. "We've got slaves here!". Buckskin, a dark unicorn covered in white tattoos bearing the Beaner insignia, glared at the slaver. "I can't let you in until you get 100 hooves back and let me send some ponies out!" cried Buckskin, before turning and disappearing from view. From behind the walls, groups of snipers watched them with suspicion. The slaver sighed and turned back to look at Decimus with despair.

When the slaver returned to Decimus' side, he got a tongue lashing from the angry Zebra. "What the fuck is going on?" he hissed. "How the fuck should I know?" hissed the slaver back. "Buckskin knows who we are but he still insists on this safety regulation bullshit". Decimus sighed and placed a single hoof on the end of his muzzle. "All right, lets get back 100 hooves with the others and get this over with. If I don't get my caps, you Beaners can forget about ever working with me again" growled the Zebra as they returned to the main group. Sacred stuck as close to Decimus as possible. You could never be too careful around these slaver types.

The group, weary from travelling so far, watched silently as a scream echoed and a whip cracked. Slowly, the great red doors groaned open a crack to allow a group of heavily armed unicorns and Earth ponies out. Buckskin was ahead of the group and approached the large group of slavers and slaves slowly. "What the fuck..." muttered Decimus irritably. "Shush. These are the 'customs officers'. They're going to check your papers and shit. If you don't check out, they won't let any of us in. So don't fuck this up" growled the main slaver. "Game face on, then" grumbled Decimus, raising a hoof in greeting as the Beaners approached.

"Buckskin, I believe?" smiled the Zebra. He was a master at charm. "Yeah. And you're Decimus, right?" asked Buckskin as his group of armed ponies slowly surrounded the group, pointing their guns at everyone in a threatening manner. Decimus was not deterred and nodded, the same 'genuine' grin on his face. "And these are the slaves?" asked Buckskin, motioning his head at the group of ponies in shackles. "That they are. 7 out of 11 isn't unacceptable, I presume?" Buckskin paused before answering. "We'd prefer 11 but you've done well. Show me the letter I sent your way a few weeks ago and then we can go inside the Fort to discuss business" said Buckskin finally.

Decimus reached into his pack and slowly produced a few scraps of paper. He set them out onto the sand at his hooves and sorted through them quickly before turning one around and showing it to Buckskin. The black unicorn looked at it for several moments before nodding. "Okay, this checks out. We'll head into the fort now. A few things before that, though. We're going to need to take all weapons off of your entourage" he said, his eyes flickering to the large rifle on the back of Bliss. "No problem" smiled the Zebra, giving a small glare to his lover. "And any other weapons you guys have will be taken off you too. If you're found with a weapon in the Fort, you'll be shot on sight. Got that, little pony?" said Buckskin, giving a horrible grin at Sacred. His teeth were even worse than Bliss', yellowed around the gums and showing signs of decay. To make it worse, his breath was the exact smell of shit.

Sacred nodded, reaching into his pack to pull out a sheathed knife and throw it at Buckskin hooves. He wasn't one for fighting but knives were always nice to have. He felt slightly nervous about walking into a large slaver camp at the mercy of a band of slavers but at the same time, he relied on Decimus to get him through it alive. Bliss gave a horrible look at the Beaners before relenting to the glare she received from Decimus and unstrapping the rifle with her teeth. "Don't get it dirty" she spat at one of the slavers stepping forward to pick it up. Decimus pulled a small pistol from his pack and dropped it at the hooves of another slaver, who quickly grabbed it.

"Okay, if that's everything, we'd better get going. These wastelands get pretty nasty at night, you know" smiled Buckskin, starting to lead the group down the hill to the fort. A rough circle of Buckskin's ponies formed around the slaves, ensuring all chance of escape was near impossible. Sacred caught a glance of Lank, who was staring straight ahead curiously. Sacred, Bliss, Decimus, Buckskin and the group of slavers that had accompanied them formed the vanguard group towards the gate, which lay ajar.

"Celestia above, Buckskin, I don't know why you made us go through all that" grumbled one of the slavers, still armed. The slavers had hardly been checked at all, Sacred noticed. "Well, a few reasons. We don't want a group of trackers running wild around the fort with weapons. If shit goes wrong, which it won't, we have the upper hand in taking them down" began Buckskin in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Oh and the Grand Beaner arrived this afternoon, so we have to check everyone going in and out so we don't have any incidents".

The smile on Decimus' face dropped immediately and turned into a worried frown. "Er, wait, what? The Grand Beaner is here?" he asked, catching up to Buckskin. "Yeah, he came randomly, dunno why" shrugged Buckskin. "He does that sometimes, I suppose. I think he's looking for slaves to take back to Vanhoover".

"Oh....I-I see..." faltered the Zebra. Sacred nudged his boss, concerned. Decimus bit his lip and glanced at his Prench partner. "I don't suppose he'll want to us, then?" asked Decimus. "Of course he will! He wants to see what he's paying for, dunn'he!" grinned Buckskin. The Zebra swore under his breath. Bliss looked completely unconcerned while Sacred was confused.

"What's wrong with zat?" murmured the tracker to the Zebra. "I was hoping to be working with someone like Buckskin, who's at least sane" replied Decimus under his breath. "Just be careful what you say around the Grand Beaner. I hear he's a bit of a...sadist...". Decimus winced at the thought and suddenly Sacred understood the situation.

Decimus feared the Grand Beaner. His previous cool had been completely lost and now he looked worried. But it was far too late to turn around now. Whatever happened in Fort de Beaner could not be avoided.

The room was dark when Nexus awoke, a cold breeze blew through the shattered windows and she shivered wrapping her hooves tighter around herself. It hadn’t been her intention to fall asleep here, not with slavers cleared hunting the area but it seemed she had been lucky.
She climbed carefully to her hooves and peered out the window listening for any indication that the slavers or anypony else might still be around. The street remained quiet however, save for the creaking of buildings as they were buffeted by the strong winds.

Nexus made her way down the stairs, her eyes strained in the darkness as she tried to avoid falling. It was a cloudy night and without the moon to light the way the darkness seemed suffocating. Outside was little better but as her eyes become by accustomed to the lack of light she was able to make out the silhouettes of objects around her. As quietly as she could, she crept across the remainder of the courtyard and slipped down into a side alley.

For what felt like hours, Nexus slipped from shadowed cover to shadowed cover using the darkness to cover her. Although she had seen no indication of any danger, her earlier encounters in this town had put her on edge. On one occasion she tripped over full trash can in an alley creating a deafening crash that sent her scurrying into the nearest cover. There she had waited until she was sure that no one had heard.

Finally the streets opened onto a wide road littered with bones and carts. Ahead the road rose above the buildings to form a partially collapsed overpass. One side had given way so that the road now tilted at a bizarre angle. Having had no luck on finding the edge of this maze so far, Nexus decided that her best chance would be to climb somewhere high and hopefully spot a way out.

The road was lined with the bent and broken form of old lamp posts, some of which flickered or glowed dimly, giving the street some light for Nexus to see by. She watched carefully for any signs of life in the darkness but it seemed that once again her luck had held. She ducked out of her position in the doorway of a dilapidated building and into a partially collapsed bus stop. From there she slipped over to the mangled wreck of a sky chariot. Ahead of her, the road began to slope upwards. Cautious as ever, she crawled from her hiding spot and began to climb the cracked asphalt, wary of the increasingly sharp angle of the collapsed road.

Finally Nexus scrambled the last few meters of the overpass and pulled herself onto the much flatter surface at the top. Climbing back to her hooves, she was Immediately buffeted by the strong, freezing winds. It was much worse up here without the protection the buildings below had provided. Fighting against the bitter onslaught, her mane whipping round her face, she made it to the far edge and looked out across the town.

It was far larger than she had first imagined earlier that day when she had ventured in. The shadows of buildings stretched off in all directions around her and many of the taller structures obstructed her view. Logically, the taller buildings would be nearer the centre of the city where all the business had been. She internally high fived herself at that for remembering her Stable education. The far side of the overpass was much more promising though the lack of light still made it difficult to see a great distance. It may have been hopeful thinking, but it looked as though the building began to thin out in that direction.

With renewed hope and happy to escape the bitter cold, Nexus clambered back down the slope to ground level and set off in her new direction.

The rain let up. Over an hour of downpour the ferocity of the downpour gave way to a waning trickle, gently misting the cool north-western air. The ground churned and melted away into a muddy paste. The clouds overhead still rolled and heaved around themselves. But between the fists and clumps it parted opening brief windows into the light-filled sky above. The beams of golden light spotlighted the brown soup. They traveled across the hills and the ruins of centuries passed before closing and fading.

In the northern distance a clump of blackened and charred hills rose in the haze. Signaling of clearer skies in the future bands of leaves of gold very clearly traveled across the slick shell. Bands of warm rays poured across the wasteland as the golden filly led the merchant towards that patch of wasteland. In tow Rusted's brahmin mooed rudely as it was pulled through cold oily puddles of rainwater and through mud. The few patches of grass and vegetation that existed helped to keep much of the wasteland firm, but did little more than create firm floats in an otherwise soupy guagmire.

Gilded Wonder trotted far head, bounding across the barren wasteland with light-hoofed ease. Though her golden coat was slathered with mud from fetlock to mane, the bright yellow of her back was a clear flag to Rusted who slogged heavily through the post-rain mud, grumpily pulling along his Brahmin with a sour expression. He was already regretting deeply his decision to follow through with this. He thought if he had just shrugged her off and ignored her presence he would by now by traveling along the barren highway, clear of the thick off-road mud and slippery rocks that pecked the way like landmines.

The nimble movements of the small unicorn filly across the hillside was a source of much jealousy to Rusted. Being either light, or perhaps casting some freaky unicorn spell on her hooves she was more than capable of moving along. Something that bit and dug at Rusted, a fire that smothered the generosity he had played earlier that afternoon to take this. As he lagged behind with the grumbling pack animal, she stood ahead, looking back at him and looking ahead to where they had to go yet. She looked unsure, for sure. But that didn't change much when he had yet to come back the same way to hit the road. There was a nibbling sort of rat at the back of his head, working at what the jealousy hadn't bothered when it manifested that told him that by the time he did get back a whole day would had been lost. And did he really want to travel these hills at night?

As he crested the hill Gilded Wonder stayed put, not moving ahead further. He could only assume they had made it.

“This is it!” she said gleefully, “Or, I think.” she added doubtfully, looking down the hillside.

At the bottom of the gully sat a complex of concrete structures, laid out in a squared. Rusting fenced marked a parameter. “You think?” Rusted replied, baffled, “You were sure when we left.”

“Well I don't know, they could have gone further!” she snapped bitterly, her bark was certainly larger than her bite. Even Rusted rose a brow it startled surprise for the aggressive squeak that came from her mouth. “But I got this far before they found me.” she pouted, drumming a hoof against the soaked ground.

“Fine, suppose it is.” Rusted mumbled, looking back down. At the center of the complex the remains of what looked like a factory or a larger warehouse lay. Half of one side had fell in on itself. Spilling chunks of cement and bricks in a field of boulders among trunks of twisted steel beams. It was funny how in this world all the largest of the old world's structures collapsed, all its testaments to its strength eroded or burned. While often times the simplest and innumerable country houses weathered the rot and decay.

“There's a road over there.” the filly pointed out, waving a hoof down below. Twisting among the hills and below metal gate a paved road made its way, so beaten the asphalt was little more than gravel. The remains of wagons and other vehicles lay scattered on the shoulder. “I got about that far before they found me.”

For a landscape so gray and brown, it was a wonder she got that far, Rusted Bits thought. “How many?” he asked.

“About ten.” she said confidently, then bit her lip. “E-eight.” she corrected.

“We'll say ten.” Rusted groaned. Ten was bad. But maybe they'd have dispersed and separated. After all, they haven't been spotted yet for standing in the open. Though raiders being raiders, they were no doubt getting high or rutting in celebration of the score. Or recovering.

“I want you to stay behind.” he ordered, turning to the filly. Her eyes went wide with shock.

“No!” she demanded, “I want to go too! I can re-activate Entourage!” she huffed.

“You'll just get in the way!” Rusted demanded, “And I can handle your robot. If not I'll come get you when it's all clear. But I don't need any extra hooves getting in the way.”

“Am I not good enough?” she sneered.

“No, no.” the merchant sighed, “You are. But I also need someone to take care of the pack Brahmin.” he added, nodding to the mud-caked cow lower on the hill. Both its heads staring up at them with a worried expectant look.

“If I'm going to collect the end pay I need something to get it out.” he argued, “I paid good caps for her, she's a heavy investment, and she has another good one on her. So take it, and hide. Wait for me to finish.”

He couldn't believe he was doing this. The concept screamed insanely at him. It rang in his ears like a bell. But he had dealt with raiders before. Either managing to buy them off, or shooting away. They weren't the straightest shots in the world, but a danger enough for him to be well acquainted.

And despite the internal cries to not, there was a side of him that wanted to play out a revenge fantasy. Something to account for the death of his kin.

“You're staying here.” he spoke softly, “I'll get it done.”

The sky was just turning dark as the gates of Fort de Beaner shut behind them. The fort was illuminated by fire-lit torches, that burned harshly among the city of tents and slave paddocks. They were met with another large group of slavers on the inside, who greeted their friends cheerily. "Ay, Derp Hoof, where've you been?" one shouted. "Work, mate!" called back Derp Hoof. The slavers dispersed from the group and headed towards a collection of tents that lay at the end of the beaten path. The slaves were rounded up and taken in the opposite direction, leaving four ponies standing with their backs to the gates. Sacred craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of his beloved Lank before she disappeared forever. She caught his eye briefly and he felt his pulse race.

It only slowed when she was out of sight and he felt a pang of sadness as he realised he probably wouldn't see her again.

Left in the group were Buckskin, Decimus, Bliss and Sacred. The fort wasn't actually as big as it looked. A lot of it was wide open space that eventually led into a small settlement of tents or a paddock before leading back into a few hundred feet of open, dusty space. The walls went in a semi-circle shape, with the entire camp in the shadow of a particularly rocky hill. Years of abuse from the weather had eroded away all dirt from the hill, leaving its rocky skeleton exposed to the elements. It looked rather smooth at the top before coming to steep drop that would land you in the middle of the fort. Along the walls, armed slavers patrolled the catwalks, keeping a close eye on the area outside and inside the wall.

"So, Buckskin, er, is this the only way in and out?" asked Decimus, knocking his hoof off of the metal gate. "Yup. Otherwise you'd have to climb the walls or dig under, which is next to impossible with all the ponies we have around here" answered Buckskin, an edge of pride in his voice. "Yeah, only way you're getting out of here alive is on a cart out that there gate".

"What if you're not alive?" asked Bliss dryly. "Then we burn your corpse in a bonfire" answered the slaver simply. "Now, come on, we'd better not keep the Grand Beaner waiting!"

Buckskin led them down a beaten track towards the largest cluster of tents. He whistled as went and seemed to have a chipper air about him. What is he so happy about..., thought Sacred. It took him a moment to realise it. Oh. He's going to get paid for this. He sighed and began walking faster to catch up to his companions. As the tents and paddocks grew thicker around them, so did the audible cries and whip-lashes. The slaves were coming back from a hard days work doing....whatever it was the Grand Beaner had them do.

"What do your slaves do, Buckskin?" asked Sacred, heightening his voice slightly so the slaver could hear him. "Well, fuck my ass and call me Momma, you're from Prance, ain't ya!" exclaimed Buckskin. "My Pa was from Prance". "I-I see" replied Sacred, somewhat put-off by the slavers enthustiastic reply. "Even taught me a little Prench. Erm, J'ema-pal Buckskin! J'beet en Fort De Beaner...Is that right?" said Buckskin, his face crinkling with concentration. "Oui" lied Sacred, cringing at the slavers terrible pronunciation. "Well, you asked about these here slaves? They do almost anything you tell them too! Minin', whorin', fightin', liftin', carryin', draggin', burnin', growin, raisin', cookin'....erm, Celestia, I can't think of anything else right now. But they do a lot, lemme tell ya! Why, you interested in one?" said Buckskin. He spoke fast. Almost too fast for the Prench tracker to comprehend.

"Non" he answered. "Ju-just curious...". Secretly, he wondered if Lank was for sale. But he didn't dare ask with Decimus in earshot. "Anyways, little buddy, what's your name? Wait! Say it in Prench!" grinned Buckskin, hopping over a drain that stank made Sacreds eyes water. Sacred took a running jump to get over the open drain, stumbling on the other side. "Erm..Je suis Sacre Gris" he replied. But Buckskin wasn't listening. He was too busy laughing at the misfortune of Bliss.

Bliss had slipped jumping over the drain and landed straight in the muddy water, shit and piss that stagnated at the bottom of it. "Hooo-weee, you dumb mare!" cackled the slaver, tears forming in the corners of eyes. Decimus held a hoof out for Bliss to climb out. She glared at Buckskin as she pulled herself other side of the drain, who was clutching his stomach from laughter. "I shoulda' warned ya, mare! It gets pretty damn slippy around here!" he guffawed. Sacred didn't laugh and stepped away from the giggling slaver. He knew Bliss too well. She wasn't going to take this lying down.

As she opened her mouth to retort, Decimus quickly jumped in front of her. "Hah! Hah! It's very funny, no?" he faked a laugh before glaring at Bliss. "Don't you fucking dare". Bliss bit her lip as shitty water ran down her snout before mouthing a bad word in Buckskins direction and looking at her hooves in anger. She stank worse than usual and she was splattered with mud, horse shit and water. An improvement, thought Sacred, sneering slightly.

"Well, anyway, you can have a bath before you leave. The Grand Beaner might not like that stank but he'll understand, I'm sure!" chuckled Buckskin, wiping a hoof across his eyes. A few slavers saw her and laughed audibly from the flaps of their tents. A glare from Decimus sent them running, however. "Not now. Don't even think about it" he hissed to her as they continued trotting after Buckskin. She muttered something in reply that Sacred couldn't hear.

No doubt it was rude.

Buckskin continued speaking loudly to Sacred, even introducing him to a few of his slaver friends as they weaved their way through the tents. The tracker could almost feel Decimus' eyes on him, so he acted politely and pretended to listen to Buckskin moaning about the quality of slaves going down. It felt like an hour, crossing over shit drains, hopping over corpses and wincing at the cries from the paddocks. But soon they found themselves at the largest and most extravagant tent of them all. It stood out from the tents around it due to the fact it had a small, hastily erected wall around it, complete with heavily armed guards.

In Fort de Beaner, it seemed everyone was heavily armed but these guys were covered from head to hoof in leather and all swung rifles threateningly. They all wore masks with meshes in front of their faces. The tent was a deep maroon colour and covered an area of fifty feet altogether. Compared to the tiny, white tents that composed of most of the Fort, this was a mansion. Buckskin stopped at the entrance and hailed a guard.

"Yo. I'm here with the guys who brought in the most recent batch of slaves" he said. The guard looked at them all dubiously for a moment before hopping through the tent flaps for several moments. There was an awkward silence as Decimus shifted his feet uncomfortably and sighed deeply. He was not looking forward to this.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Decimus. Beaner might be having a good day" smiled Buckskin, probably being sincere. As if on cue, as he said that, came a roaring from the tent as the guard scurried out. Sacred heard a snippet of swearing and screaming coming from within. "Or not..." muttered Buckskin. Decimus groaned loudly and put a hoof to his face. "This is going so wrong..." he muttered.

The guard panted as he looked around at the group. "His Beanness the Great Beaner says you can go in. All of you apart from her. He doesn't want slave shit on his new carpet" said the guard, his nose crinkling at the smell of sweat and shit wafting from Bliss. She opened her mouth to complain before Decimus interjected loudly. "That's fine! She can wait here with the guards, can't you, Bliss?" he hissed the final word. Bliss' lip curled in anger before she nodded.

"Okay. Lets go meet the Great Beaner, then!" grinned Buckskin, giving Bliss a wink before he disappeared into the tent flap. Decimus groaned again before following the slaver in. Sacred gave a nervous look to Bliss, who only glared at him and to the guard before heading through the flaps.

He distinctly heard the guard whisper "Good luck" before he found himself within the office of the Great Beaner.

As she walked through the dark streets, less cautious than previously, the buildings gradually became smaller and less impressive. Finally Nexus was walking through nothing more than empty suburban streets lined by large houses and gardens. The thick cloud blocking out the moon made it difficult to see very far ahead, it was times like these she missed her pipbucks light. She briefly paused to vainly tap and poke the device attached to her hoof but to no avail, the screen remained blank.

Nexus walked a little while longer but without the streets lights near the centre, the going was much slower. After tripping over a stray plank of wood and sprawling to the floor for the third time, she decided it was probably best to wait until the sun came up before progressing.

The nearest few houses seemed particularly unstable, creaking and groaning with every gust of wind that blew down the street. Finally however, she came to one that seemed safe enough. The tall, wooden house stood at the centre of an impressive dirt patch that had once been a garden. A cracked, stone fountain of two dancing ponies adorned the pathway to the front door in front of which Nexus stood. Carefully, she pushed on the large, heavy looking door hoping that the previous occupant had left them unlocked. The aged hinges gave an incredibly loud squeal of protest as they worked before giving up completely. The entire door came away from it’s frame with a splintering crack. It fell back to the floor with a deafening crash that shook the floor and echoed loudly down the entire street.

Nexus stood frozen to the spot, staring with a look of shock at the collapsed door which now lay on the floor, partially obscured by a billowing cloud of dust that had been whipped up. For a moment, everything was silent. Then the sound of creaking timbers filled the air as the entire front of the house fell backwards, crushing the outer walls as it went. Within seconds, the entire house had collapsed in upon itself, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble where it had once stood.

Where the front door had been stood Nexus, hoof still raised from pushing the door open. She looked about with an almost guilty expression before rapidly retreating down the street at speed. Maybe these houses weren't the place to stay for the night after all.

Gravel and mud rained down the side of the hill after him as he slid down from the peak. The soft patter of the light debris popping and chipping as they struck larger stones. The feel of the hillside against Rusted's back scraped like barbs against his backside. He felt the bumps of heavy stones race across his spin, the pricks and snags of buried sticks or twine of wire or barbed wire.

He couldn't do much after he tripped coming down. And he couldn't yell. He could only slide on his back, tail wrapped up around his hind legs as they struck out. Chunks of clay of muddy globs erupted up from the wet hillside as he tore down through, splashing him the face. It was in all an incredibly unpleasant experience as he grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes downwards to the bottom bank. Glistening in the murky gray sun lay a brown puddle of mud.

The rain of gravel came to a sudden jolt as he hit a hard lump buried in the hill side. In a breaking split of a second a sharp explosion of pain tore across his ass and tail bone as something struck into it. He bit down hard on his cheeks, with holding a scream of pain as blood dripped into his mouth as he spun into the air, a violent wet agony burning his entire lower half. He stared wide-eyed and shocked as he spun head first through the air.

With a hearty crunch he fell to the hard clay on the other side of the puddle. A resounding splash followed his face-plant into the ground. He stayed there, rooted as he groaned at the agony tearing his groin apart. His hind legs sprawled out, hung over behind his back at the crunching bowed position he had been forced to.

“Piece of shit.” he sneered behind clenched teeth. His muzzle buried in rain whetted clay, a centuries worth of rot and contamination set free from the rain water. The putrid rags of time draining up through his nose.

With a groan of surrender he turned on his head, falling limply onto his back. The thump he took laying flat out shot another exploding pop of sheering discomfort through his groin and he recoiled back. His hooves darting to between his legs as he curled up.

At least he still had them.

Cracking open an eye he looked up at the tilled path his tumbling body had left. The filly and his Brahmin were no where in sight, so they had taken his word and went into hiding.

Good girls.

And lower down on the hill, some three-quarters down a crater near the size the size of his head, already half-filled with gravel. Lower in the puddle, directly in front of his pain-rocked sneer a bolder just that size.

“Fuck the wasteland.” he snickered angrily, rolling onto his side and fighting the force of gravity and noxious weakness that quaked through his every limb, “And fuck me. I'm too old for any of this.” he goaded himself. His limbs felt shaken and battered, and the three steps he took were as weak as noodles.

It wasn't far before he allowed himself to collapse again. His front legs folding under him. Kneeling as his chin planted back into the thick mud and dry twisted grass.

His entire coat had been slathered in brown, black, and gray mud. He was beyond what he was before, and even the jacket he still wore was packed thick with grime. So much so he hazarded it was more silt and muck than it was mis-matched fabrics and leather sewn together any more.

He lay there, rear in the air and hooves too planted in thick mud to spread any further. His body still shook and throbbed. Discontent he muttered, “If you're going to fuck me some more,” he growled, “then do so now.”

He closed his eyes to wait, truly beginning to wonder if he should give up. Surely the filly wouldn't be able to stop him if he turned around and got his stuff and left. There wasn't much between him and his Brahmin and the empty road. But with the cold wasteland air flowing across his haunches he imagined that something might as well happen if he did. Whether or not it was her turning into some freaky monster, or just straight karma.

He opened his eyes and spat into the mud. If he was going to be eaten alive by something it might as well by whatever was in the compound and not a filly.

He pulled himself up and limped ahead. A rusted-in fence bore a wide hole in it, not much bigger than a pony.

He reached around to his holster as he went, pulling out the battered and worn pistol there. Its cold firm grip weighed heavy in his mouth. The tight trigger reaffirming around his tongue. It also tasted like mud. With a sigh of discontent he lowered himself through the opening and slipped inside.

The twisted talons of the remaining chain link fence scratched along his back. He felt the twisted sheered metal tangle against his tail as he pulled himself in. But for what it amounted to, there wasn't an issue. Though now he crept into the lion's den.

A darkened building stood alongside him. Pressing himself against the wall he moved along. Laying low as to avoid the dust-coated windows. Crude graffiti had been sprayed against the old graying red-brick, adding the only traces of vibrant color left. Unfortunately, much of it was crude. “FUCK” ran the length of the outer offices in great bold letters in a rainbow of colors. Equally colorful depictions of violence and crude sex abounded. In the post-storm light that bathed the compound twinkling shards of glass lay scattered across the cement from where the windows were broken; all of them were. Green and brown shards of broken beer bottles littered in along the side of the walls with the shattered glass.

Rusted stayed glued to the wall as he rounded the corner. Clambering up atop a landing. He paused to look through the open door frame; the door itself lay in splinters on the ground alongside. But finding only dismal emptiness and deep shadows he moved along. It would have been helpful to know where the raiders had their stash.

He looked about, his ears turned searching for any telling sounds of noises that would tip him off to anyone else. But all was quiet in the Wasteland.

He jumped down from the porch and skirted along the open pavement to another outer building. Jumping to his hind hooves he craned his neck up and stretched as he planted his foor legs against the wall and looked into the broken out windows. He was barely able to peek over inside. But again there wasn't anything.

He bit his lip as his hooves clopped gently back to the ground. He shook his head as he stepped away. “This is a fool's game.” he said snidely, trotting off. He gave the central structure a passing look as he gave it a wide berth. Looking at it now, he couldn't help but feel as if someone was watching him from beyond its austere, bland walls. The wide gaping hole on its side gave it an eerie feeling. Like some giant ancient monster frozen in time.

“This is stupid.” he said again, stopping at another outer office. Pushing the door open he half walked inside and gave it a cursory look. Battered metal desks sat in undisturbed rows. To anyone's guess, a thick layer of moldy paper covered the floor, giving off a bitter mildew smell. It was offensive. He backed off as he clenched back on his breath to avoid a bitter, ill-fated sneeze.

As he turned away a hollow distant laugh screamed from the distance. He tightened. His sides firming as he shoot a look up. From somewhere, a mare was having some sort of fun. Knowing the crowd though, he didn't imagine it would be any good. His breath rattled tense in the back of his throat as he stepped down, shirking off back along the edge of the outer office, tracing along the edge of its wall as it turned back. He butted up against the warm brick of the structure itself. Still all too exposed in the open.

He listened again. There was another bout of laughter. And someone yelled back. The echo bending the words, muffling it. But it sounded teasing. Crude in its delivery.

If anything was anywhere, it would be from wherever someone was fondling someone. He sucked up his fear and his anxiety, and took a brisk trot for the ruinous central monolith. His hoof steps following him along as he took a quick clip for the ruins.

Whoever claimed that the remaining slavers lived in crippling poverty, barely richer than their slaves, had obviously never met the Great Beaner. His tent was simply extravagant and it looked as if the Beaners had gone all out to make the place acceptable for their leader. The floor was covered in dark maroon carpet that felt soft to the touch. Inviting furniture made of varnished wood and red felt sat along the walls, which were covered in rare, pre-war paintings and weapon racks. In the centre of this great tent, the carpet was rolled back to reveal the sand underneath and a large crackling fire-pit. At the far end of the tent was the largest, roundest bed Sacred had ever seen. Like everything else in the tent, it carried the theme of being a deep red colour. It was also messy and by the looks of the several sleeping bodies that lay on it, recently used.

In fact, now that he looked closer, Sacred could see sleeping bodies in all the shadowy corners of the tent. Judging by the empty bottles and broken needles around the fire pit, the Grand Beaner had been having some kind of 'party' before they'd arrived.

The Great Beaner himself was sat behind a large, pre-war desk. The desk was littered with bags of caps, paperwork, an intimidating rifle and small pre-war Bobblehead from the Stable-Tec line. The Great Beaner himself was carefully placing caps in a bag when he noticed the small group of ponies hovering around his doorway.

"Ah! Buckskin, you've brought my associates! Good colt, good colt!" boomed the Beaner, hopping down from behind his desk and stepping towards them. His thick accent betrayed his lower-class roots. His attempts to hide it behind extravagant tents and fancy words failed. As the raider stepped into the light of the fire, Sacred saw him for the first time.

Perhaps in his youth, the Great Beaner had been a handsome Earth Pony but years spent in the desert whipping slaves had hardened his features. A spiky, black tattoo of (what Sacred guessed was) a bean plant snaked around the left side of his face, his eyeball forming the bean at the end of stalk. His mane was braided at the edges with beads and pieces of metal and he wore a small, pre-war paperboys hat between his ears. Around his body, he'd wrapped a bath robe but a threatening suit of Beaner armour was on a stand behind him. He pelt was a rich auburn colour and littered with scars and other old war wounds. However, none looked recent, which told Sacred all he needed to know.

The big, scary Great Beaner hadn't done any actual fighting in years and relied on his power and money to get what he wanted.

Buckskin beckoned Sacred and Decimus forward towards the fire, opposite the Great Beaner. "Good to see you all! You are my prized trackers, hm?" grinned the Beaner, flashing his teeth. No pony has teeth like that anymore. He's had work done, thought Sacred. "Th-that we are, sir! My name is Decimus and this is my partner, Sacred Grey" said the Zebra, trying not to betray any signs of weakness. He held a hoof over the fire to shake. The Beaner kept that same smile on his face as his hoof met Decimus'. "Charmed. I am the Great Beaner. Would you gentleponies perhaps like a drink?" he asked, the smile never leaving his face. "Certainly, sir" smiled Decimus uneasily. Sacred only nodded.

The Great Beaner noticed and gave a chuckle. "Young Sacred Grey would like two, by the looks of it! Buckskin! Get that bottle of '32 Trampagne out of the cabinet" he barked at his second-in-command, who immediately did as he was told. While the raider played around with bottles in the back, the Great Beaner looked at Decimus and Sacred with a bemused expression. Both avoided his gaze, Sacred's eyes fixed firmly on the sandy ground.

"So!" he barked suddenly. Both trackers jumped in surprise. "Tell me, Decimus and Sacred Grey, did you get my property back?" Before Decimus could answer, the raider chief jumped in again. "Wait, don't tell me yet. I want to hear the story first. Tell me, Decimus and Sacred Grey, how you found my property and then tell me how you got it back!"

The only sound for a moment was the crackling of the fire as the Great Beaner made himself comfortable. He nodded for the trackers to do the same and they obeyed. "Well...After I got Buckskins' letter and met your Beaner guards, I asked around my usual contacts to see if they'd heard of any unusual activity in the wasteland. My most trustworthy contact-" "Who is?" inquired the Great Beaner. "Erm, a Zebra named Kaiser who lives in Vanhoover" replied Decimus, taken aback. "Ah, Vanhoover! A wonderful city! I shall have to look this Kaiser of yours when I return there...Oh, I apologise, I'm interupting your story, please, continue" grinned the Great Beaner.

"Erm, well, Kaiser said-" began Decimus. "BUCKSKIN! WHERE THE FUCK IS ME TRAMPAGNE! ME GUESTS AND I ARE GETTIN' REALLY FUCKIN' 'FIRSTY!" yowled the Great Beaner, his accent becoming noticeably more lower class. "Do excuse me, Decimus, you know how these slavers are like, never worked a real day in their lives. Not like you two, huh! Please, continue!"

Decimus glanced at Sacred, giving him a look of 'lets get the fuck out of here'. Sacred's heart was beginning to pound in his chest but this wasn't like when he saw Lank. This was fear. "Well, Kaiser told me that he'd heard of a large group of ponies moving through the wastelands south-west of here, so I sent Sacred here ahead to scout for clues. He came back to me a few days later, saying he'd gotten their trail. And we set out. Caught them in Saddleshire, took about a week to get back here. And, er, here we are, I guess..."

Buckskin walked towards the three ponies sat around the fire with a tray precariously balancing 3 glasses and a bottle of '32 Trampagne. "Thank you, Buckskin" snapped the Great Beaner, snatching his glass from the tray. Buckskin quietly murmured his apologies for taking so long before taking a seat in a corner of the tent. Sacred sipped his Trampagne politely and almost started gagging. There was a reason this bottle hadn't been opened since '32!

"So, young Sacred Grey, you are the brains in the operation, hm?" smiled the Great Beaner, sipping on his Trampagne."Ou-oui, monsieur" murmured Sacred, too afraid to meet his gaze. "Ah, you are foreign?" he asked. "Erm, Oui-I mean, yes, sir" replied Sacred, feeling the Slaver's eyes bore into him but keeping his own eyes fixated on the fire. The Great Beaner seemed to stare at the small pony for several moments before he spoke again.

"Well, Decimus, you've done a good job. The only matter we have left to discuss is your pay..." smiled the Great Beaner, turning his attention back to the Zebra. "Lets see....200 caps per pony...11 ponies...How does 2200 sound?" Decimus nodded furiously. "Fine, absolutely fine" he replied, his voice cracking slightly. Despite the calming mood that the Great Beaner was trying to create, the tension in the air became thicker by the second.

Buckskin shuffled over the Great Beaner as he stood and murmured in his ear. The slavers eyes widened and glanced at Decimus as the information was passed on. "I see...Tut, tut, this won't do!" he murmured. A change occured in the slavers face at the moment. While previously it'd been calm, inviting - almost friendly, now his hardened facial features hardened once again. He threw his glass of Tampagne into the fire, where it exploded and hissed in the flames.

"Well, gentlemen, Buckskin here informs me you fuckin' cunts are tryin' swindle me" he snarled suddenly. "The deal was 11 slaves. Not fuckin' seven! I ain't givin' you fuckers a single cap."

Sacred looked at Decimus hard. The Zebra was trying to formulate a plan in the face of one of the most powerful criminals in the wasteland. "But you don't understand, sir, we one died on the journey here-" "I don't give a flyin' fuck! I wanted all me property back and you only bring fuckin' SEVEN! SEVEN! CAN YOU FUCKIN' BELIEVE IT, SACRED GREY? HE ONLY BROUGHT SEVEN OF ME FUCKIN' SLAVES BACK, THE SLIMY CUNT! WELL? CAN YOU FUCKIN' BELIEVE IT?" he roared at the small Prench tracker.

"N-n-non, monsiuer" stammered Sacred. Decimus began pulling himself to his feet only met with the steely gaze of the Great Beaner. "Get your arse on the floor, you slimy shit!" he growled. Decimus obeyed." You 'fink you can take the Great Beaner for a fuckin' idiot? What do I look like? You stupid fuckers have taken four for yourselves. ain't ya?"

"Not at all, Great Beaner" replied Decimus, his voice cracking slightly. "It's just three slaves were unaccounted for..."

"Right, fuck this. Buckskin, give me my gun" he barked at his second in command again, who obeyed. The rifle on his desk was picked up using the magic from his horn and placed gently into the Grand Beaners hooves. He clicked the safety off and held it up to his eyes. "Tell me where me property is" growled the slaver softly. "Or I'll splatter your brains all over my new carpe-Actually, get up. I'm not fuckin' up me brand new carpet for you fuckers. G'wan, up!" he barked. Sacred and Decimus pulled themselves to their hooves shakily.

"Get out!"

Sacred gulped as he glanced at Decimus. The Zebra kept his eyes forward but there was that same fear in there. The Great Beaner herded the trackers out of his tent, his rifle trained at their heads. "Please, your Great Beanness, we're not ly-" started Decimus. "Shut up!" snarled the slaver, hitting the Zebra on the hind with the butt of his gun.

Out in the open, the Beaners clan had formed a semi-circle around the Great Beaners tent, curious as to what was happening inside. They recoiled quickly when they saw the two trackers being pushed out of the tent with guns trained at their heads. Upon realising what was going on, the frightened looks became smirks and evil grins. Some even drew their weapons in preparation. Bliss, who had been loitering near some tents, caught a sight of Decimus and Sacred with guns to their backs and immediately turned to run. A click of the Great Beaners tongue and she was being herded within the semi-circle by a group of heavily armed guards, who smirked behind their masks as they poked her with their javelins and knifes.

In the centre of the semi-circle, Sacred, Decimus and Bliss were turned to face the Great Beaner and his tent. They were pushed to their knees and made to watch forward as the the Great Beaner began to goad them. Sacred became acutely aware of a gun inches from the back of head and a shiver went down his spine. Things weren't going well but any attempts to catch Decimus' eye from Bliss or Sacred were met with stony silence as the Zebra glared at the Great Beaner. Any former fear in Decimus had been turned to anger and defiance.

"Now, gentlemen!" began the Great Beaner, speaking to his gang. What we have here are three ponies I hired to find a group of runaway slaves! What I didn't know, however, was their little Zebra ringleader is rather infamous in the wastelands for being a conniving little cunt. You see, Decimus, I know who you are. I know who you really are".

Sacred, confused, looked at his colleague for an answer. But he received none. The zebra kept his cold glare at the Great Beaner, ignoring the nudges by Bliss and the stares by Sacred.

"You see, Decimus, before I left Vanhoover, I was approached by a group of Zebras who were very interested in your past. It seems you were the son of someone important in the old Zebra Empire or something. I don't bloody know, I'm getting paid." explained the Great Beaner. From the corner of his eye, Sacred saw Buckskin slip out of the tent flaps and disappear into the sea of tents with a big grin on his face.

This was a set-up from the start.

"But I digress. Not only have you pissed off your zebra ponies, you've tried to cheat my boys and I out of a lot of caps and to make matters worse, you brought poor Sacred Grey and- what's your name, darling?" asked the slaver, flicking his gun in Bliss' direction. "Bliss" she replied cooly.

"You brought poor Sacred Grey and Bliss in on it and they're going to die too" continued the Great Beaner, clicking the safety of his rifle on and off.

Realisation of his mortality hit Sacred like a tonne of bricks. He was going to die. Bliss and Decimus were useless, all of his guards were much too frightened to step in and he himself couldn't even attempt to weedle his way out of it. "Merde" gasped Sacred. He'd been in tight spots before but Decimus had always gotten him out. But this looked too tight.

"Well? Any last words before I splatter you and your friends heads across the ground?" smiled the Great Beaner, flashing his white teeth sadistically. Sacred, resigned to death, found himself staring hard at the Zebra, who was chewing on the question for a moment. "Yeah. Sacred and Bliss" his eyes closed and a tear appeared. "I'm sorry".

"I-it's okay, babe" replied Bliss in a shaky voice. She held him close and planted a small kiss on the end of his nose. Decimus turned to Sacred and held out a hoof. Sacred shakily shook it. "You were a good tracker. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise" he smiled. "You were a good...friend" replied Sacred, feeling tears burn his own eyes.

He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell Decimus how, despite how he occasionally patronise him, he kind of liked him. Decimus, for all his excessive hedonism and short-sightedness, was his guardian angel. He wanted to say thanks for being there for him and for taking him under his wing all those years ago.

But before he could open his mouth, a bullet entered the Zebra's head and didn't re-emerge. Decimus' eyes rolled into his head and he trotted off his mortal coil. Bliss and Sacred recoiled in horror as the large Zebra fell to his hind legs and then, for the last time, to the ground. The Prench tracker opened his mouth but no words came out. A similar look of horror was on Bliss' face.

Sacred had killed before but it'd been a while since he'd seen someone he knew die before his eyes.

There was cheers and jeers of delight as the Great Beaner proudly rose the smoking gun over his shoulder. "Thank you, I'm here all day!" he laughed. He took several steps closer to Sacred and Bliss, who both shrank in fear. "Now, you two will be happy to know I'm not a total monster. I'm not going to kill you. You - well, Sacred- brought some of my property home" he began, flashing his perfect smile at both of the cowering ponies.

Sacred blew a sigh of relief before catching himself. There was still a slaver holding a gun to his head, after all. "However! You didn't bring all of my property home. Eight out of eleven is good but not what I wanted. I wanted all of it back! So, in order to pay me back for my eleven slaves, you three are now my slaves. I've taken into account that Decimus and another slave are now dead, of course. So, what do you say? A life of servitude to me?"

Sacred met the Great Beaners eye for the first time and he saw the crazy glint that was common in those with a lot of money. "Erm...I-I do not know, sir..." he stammered. "Don't worry, you're not going to be lugging rocks like these useless layabouts! No, you and Bliss are going to be assisting me with something else. You see, in Vanhoover, they have acquired a certain taste when it comes to their....pleasure, we'll call it. And it just so happens small, little raiders like you two are exactly what they enjoy".

"So we're going to be whores" sneered Bliss, tears rolling down her muzzle. "Ah, ah, ah!" wheedled the Great Beaner, waving his rifle. "I still have a gun, remember? A bit less of that sneering, please!". He turned back to Sacred. "But yes, you will become 'whores', as your friend called it"

Sacred paused for a moment. There was a way to get out of this. Perhaps Decimus didn't have to die in vain. Perhaps Sacred could continue living his life, even if it was degrading himself for this disgusting slaver. He wasn't sure what Blisses answer was but he nodded, ever-so-slightly.

"You know it makes sense" said the slaver softly, happy that Sacred's answered for Bliss too. "Now, one last thing. Kiss my hoof and you will both be entered into my service and become my property for the rest of your natural lives. If you don't, I'm afraid you won't live to see tomorrow."

Sacred felt a hoof push at his back hard and he was pushed into the sand. He glanced over to see Bliss had been pushed to ground too. Through her tear-filled eyes, there was a familiar anger flashing. She didn't like this. As Sacred's lips touched the Great Beaner's filthy hoof, he closed his eyes and relished his last moments of freedom.

There was a wild cheer from the crowd of Beaners and then, silence as the Great Beaner kicked him hard in the back of the head, knocking him out.

Morning found Nexus asleep under the twisted metal wreckage of a sky carriage. Dim light shone in through the ancient framework casting eerie shadows on the rusted walls. The cream pony shifted her hoof over her face and pulled the hood of her jacket up to cover her eyes, letting out a groan. Sleeping on the cold hard floor had done little to rest her tired body from the long walk the night before. Rolling on her side a little, Nexus stretched out her legs to relieve her aching joints.
“Oi, Tipper, Sky Carriage up ahead. Give it a once over will you?”

The sound of a stallion's voice broke the early morning silence and set Nexus heart pumping. As quiet as possible, she climbed to her hooves, searching around the carriages gloomy interior for anything to use as a weapon. Her hooves found a loose piece of metal, sharp at one end where it had been torn from the structure. She snatched it up in her magic and brandished it in her magic looking to the battered door ready to strike the moment these strangers showed themselves.

The sound of hoof steps drew closer and the thin beams of light gleaming in through cracks were lost as a figure began to move around the outside. With a squeal of resistance the door slowly began to open revealing a crimson colt with a somewhat bored expression on his face as he took in the interior. His eyes widened in surprise as a cream filly launched herself at him sending the pair of them sprawling backwards into the street.

Nexus pinned him to the floor as best she could, her limited weight working against her as she tried to subdue the squirming colt. The sharp metal spear floated above the left side of her head threatening to stab down if he tried anything. Before she could however, the sound of a imposing click drew her attention away from the fight at hoof and over to her right. There stood an earth pony stallion, yellow in colour with a large gun trained directly on her. The click had been his battle saddle flicking into a firing position. Just for a moment he seemed to regard Nexus almost with a look of amusement as she stood frozen before him. With another click the battle saddle was away again and he rolled his eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you Tipper, guard up at all times.”

Nexus stood dumbly for a moment before remembering the colt beneath her, she looked down just in time for him to free his hoof and plant it firmly in her face. The colt was far stronger than he looked, Nexus was knocked back, losing her magical hold on the metal spear and sent sprawling to the floor.

"Little late there son. If she was a raider you'd already be dead"

A strong pair of hooves rolled Nexus over before picking up her up and setting her upright again. Her legs fell out from under her as her still dazed brain struggled to keep up.

"Hey, my guard was up! I just... I just thought it'd be best to bring her out where you could see her. Yeah. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

The colt was back on his feet and the pair of ponies now stood before her. They didn't look like raiders, in fact the pair looked relatively normal. They looked down at her with curious expressions as though waiting for something.

"So, you got a voice there or you dumb as you look?" The stallion asked.

"W...what?" Nexus struggled to her hooves, backing up to the wreckage and looking between them suspiciously.

"Dumb as she looks it is" the stallion nodded, scooping up the metal spear and examining it before tossing it to her.
"Just who're you planning to kill with that? I doubt you could take down a sickly radroach".

He let out a booming laughed that slowly trailed off as neither Nexus nor the colt beside him joined in.

"Aha... Anyway" he gave an awkward cough "What's a young filly such as yourself doing alone out here? Even I wouldn't want to be alone in the wastes"

"I'm... I'm trying to find a town... Or... Or something..." Nexus stammered finding her voice at last. Her initial courage had faded with the fight and now she struggled to speak.

"A town or something?" The stallion repeated her words back to her slowly raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Uh huh..." Nexus nodded "I was just scavenging."

"Scavenging huh?" The colt stepped forward, puffing out his chest as he did. "If that's true, where's your bags? Pretty tough to carry all that stuff around with just your hooves."

Nexus looked to the door of the sky carriage then back to the colt. He glared at her suspiciously before moving inside, returning a few moments later with her saddlebags. He dumped them on the floor before her and began rooting around inside.

"Hey!" She cried, running forward to push him away. "That's mine!"

The colt resisted, he was apparently much stronger when braced and despite her efforts her managed to push her back.

“If you’ve got nothing to hide you’ve got nothing to fear” he said matter of factly as he resumed rummaging through the contents “and it looks like you’ve got a lot to hide… Lots of drugs, must be a small fortunes worth in here. How would a runt like you come across all this?”

“That’s enough Tipper” The stallion intervened at last “You really think she’s a thief or highway mare with that for a weapon?” he jabbed a hoof at the metal spear again with a flat expression on his face.

The colt, Tipper, looked at the discarded piece of metal, then to Nexus and finally to the stallion before shrugging.
“Hey, I’m just saying she’s either a very lucky scavenger, which I doubt, or she came across this some other way.”

Nexus took the opportunity to drag the bags away telekinetically and place them on her back, looking between the pair to see what their next move would be. For a moment the stallion regarded her as though trying to make up his mind about something. At last he nodded his head clearly coming to a conclusion.

“Say, you got any Med-X in those bags of yours?”

“She does! I saw it myself, 4 syringes.” Tipper interrupted before Nexus could open her mouth to answer.

“Did I ask you?” The stallion scolded, clipping the colts ear with a hoof before looking back to Nexus expectantly.
Nexus nodded slowly, magically producing the syringes from her bags so that they floated before her.

“Mhmm” the stallion nodded “Tell you what, you give me three of those and I’ll give you my old gun. It’s not much, but it’ll serve you better than that old thing.” Once again he jabbed a hoof to the spear on the floor.

Nexus looked to the spear on the floor. On one hoof her weapon choice had clearly been poor. This guy had done nothing but point it out since the conversation began. However, on the other hoof, she knew nothing about using a gun. Was a gun even worth three syringes of Med-X? Was this a scam? The uncertainty must have show on her face because the stallion sighed, reaching into his own saddlebag and drawing a small pistol, depositing it on the floor before her.

“I’ll even throw in a few rounds to get you started. I’m not going to force you but even I’d feel much better knowing you’ve got something proper to defend yourself with. This is a good gun, real reliable, I’ve carried it from one end of the wastes to the other and it’s never let me down.” He pushed it towards her.

After a few moments more hesitation, Nexus nodded, passing over the Med-X and scooping up the pistol.
“Good choice” The stallion grinned, turning to the colt beside him. “Come on then Tipper, we should get moving. If this young lady can find a score like this, I’ve no doubt we can too.”
The pair began to set off up the path, in the direction Nexus had travelled the night before. As she watched the leave, a thought crossed her mind.

“Wait!” she cried waving a hoof to get their attention. “Where am I? Where’s the nearest town?”
“Hoover Wasteland!” came the reply as the pair continue to walk “Nearest towns a good days walk on that path! Good luck!”

-

Level Up, level 2
New Perk: Shadow of the Shadows - You have become adept at moving around unseen. Enemies are far less likely to spot you when sneaking. In addition, your agility is increased by 1 at night.

He crawled up into the gaping maw that lay open before him. Climbing over loose-tooth stones into the dry dusty crater of the ancient skull. Teeth of rusting steel bore down from over him as great chunks of concrete and broken masonry made a treacherous slop to climb. The air was still and ghostly as he came up, the breath of the structure was stolen away when Equestria was annihilated. But there was still something that came out. A breath of air not unlike a breath of its own. But without smell of its own. The heckling and hawing of ponies, rancorous laughter, and angry shouting.

“We searched the haul five times over and we didn't find it!” some-pony cried out. His voice rattled with a dry desperation. It ground through his throat like sandpaper. A pony wasted by cigarettes and dash if there ever was one.

“Meal Plan's going to have a shit fit if he doesn't get it! Haven't you heard? He already flayed three groups who refused to deliver!” the same pony cried, “And I'm damn sure we're over his limit!”

“Blister, can you even count?” another pony asked. Her voice was much more refined. But it carried weight on its breath. It wasn't the easy voice of a Tenpony unicorn. It's sophistication bore a military weight.

“I-I can!” the other one affirmed enthusiastically. But Rusted could here the wavering uncertainty behind it. He wasn't just lying, but he was doing it poorly.

He made it to the top of the rubble pile and found himself looking down a deep concrete pit. A maze and forest of rusting steel girders made a system of metal shelves that had long fell apart. Their contents a mushy and broken pile on the cement floor. Where the daylight outside didn't illuminate either, bright orange fires burned in random corners throughout the warehouse pit. Gathered not too far from the guttural opening of the warehouse's shell stood a grouping of some twenty individuals, in varying states of physical equipment, and armament.

To the most surprising, was a bright sky-blue pegasus. The stripped remains of power armor clad her flanks. The empty holsters of a saddle rig hung off her side as she impatiently beat her flank with the tips of her wings. A white tail dashed side to side as she stared down a meek, faded-red earth pony.

“Prove it.” the pegasi demanded, pounding a hoof against the ground. The crack it made against the floor echoed loud. Sparks emanated from the contact. She was packing power hooves. Rusted lay low as he watched the exchange.

“1...” the earth pony began, “2... 3... Ahh-” he stammered uncertainly, “6, and B?”

“Your mother should be ashamed of you!” the pegasi spat, she aggressively thrashed her hooves against the ground as she advanced on the Earth Pony. The loud clattering sounded off like fire-works, exploding and popping as she pounded. The earth pony, Blister, tore back. Shying back from her imposing form as her wings unfurled threateningly.

“OK! OK!” Blister squealed as he backed off into a wretched nest of twisted irons, “I'll play along, cunt!”

The pegasus mare abruptly stopped her aggressive advances, but held out her wings as Blister pressed more into the spears of metal. Rusted could watch him visibly shake from so high up.

“Is that all?” she asked demanding, craning her neck down to his lowered head.

“Y-yes.” Blister said.

“Is that ALL?” she repeated with emphasis.

“Y-yes, for fucking crying out loud!”

“That's not what I want!” she slammed her hooves on the concrete. The ancient stonework cracked and split, and a wide circle of cracked earth exploded from under-neath her.

“A-ah...” Blister began, “Y-yes Ma'am!” he cringed.

There was a long and drawn out silence between the two. The armored pegasus assumed a pose like that of a blue crow brooding over some sort of carrion underneath her claws. But in the place of a body was a raider, fur stained with piss and teeth falling loose.

“Do we have any more concerns to voice?” the mare turned, looking over her crew. There was mumbled silence from the lot of them as they shuffled on their horse-shoes. A lot averted their gaze. Some turned away to wander off to some other job.

“Now I don't give any amount of moist cunt on how many bosses you worked with before, how many would have done such-and-such differently. We know this thing this Meal Plan fellow wants is traveling in a Caravan. That much is sure. But what we can say is that these last caravans have not had anything! But more will come and we'll find out.

“I didn't fuck around as a staff sergeant during The War to sit on my ass now. So you best know who you're dealing with over your contracts.

“Strip this shit down and find me another target. Dismissed.”

Her group didn't need to be told twice. Or even at all. Loosely they had begun to disband themselves on their own accord throughout the warehouse. Some wandered off to clean guns. Some slipped off into the inky shadows that still soaked the further corners. To no doubt get high or to nap.

With the excitement at a close Rusted scanned through the open and rusting shelves, hoping to find the prize he was here to get. But with such a host before he severely doubted he could do it. The doubt clung his stomach and began to chew. He'd heard of ponies who could sneak through and open room without being seen. But this was not his realm. And a part of him doubted he could come up to the door and make a deal to swindle them out of a robot.

There was in the middle of the room a table laden down with all sorts of guns and scrap and other assorted items of junk. There was clothes, piece of scrap metal, crates of ammo, and at least a small pile of books than the majority of ponies present couldn't even think of reading. But under all the loot there poked a tangle of metal tentacles. There was a lumpy definition where that lay that had to be the robot.

He at least knew where to find it. But how to get to it. He lifted himself up and started to carefully trot down the stony bank of rubble. But as he hooves pressed against the chunks of concrete and steel something crashed down on his back.

He gasped loud for breath as the weight of a pony pounded down into his shoulders. The strength of a hoof threw him down into the chalky dust of the ruined embankment. The sharp edges of his assailants hooves dug deep into his spine between his shoulder blades, immobilizing him. With a painful cry he felt something bite the back of his neck and before he could register he was standing again. But not standing, in the air. Gray-blue forelegs wrapped around his chest, under his shoulders and he was rocketed up into the air. Wings beat the air alongside his ears and his eyes watered when he was rocketed into the air, and into the warehouse.

He was spun and he felt the world around him loose weight. He snapped about, looking for his assailant. He caught a glance at a corduroy-blue young stallion bearing over him. His eyes and smile glowed with a cruel sort of amusement. And as he dropped he began to scream in horror when the hand of gravity wrapped him by the tail and brought him down.

Inches from the ground he was rescued by the corduroy pegasi. His ears dragged along the swampy, greasy ground of the warehouse. The feet of warehouse shelving grated against his scalp. He cried and yelled pained at each impact against his skull as the young stallion dragged him low through the mess until finally the two crashed into a mess of moldy, swampy cardboard.

He choked at the wet dust that was kicked up by the impact. He groaned as everything caught up at once. From the swollen ache of his head to the pulverized and bitten tear in his shoulders.

“Hey Ma! I got someone!” the pegasus stallion bellowed, standing over top the curled Rusted Bits. His hooves were weighty and solid, stabbing into his gut as he was pinned into the messy pile. He wore a wild grin, and emerald-green eyes darted from him and out deeper into the warehouse with an excited fervor.

“What?” voices echoed in the din. With as much a a display as the colt had put on, it was no wonder ponies were suddenly curious.

“For fuck's sake, what is it now?” the pegasus mare demanded at a distance. Metallic hooves bound across the pavement as she drew near. Rusted could just barely make her out from behind the knots in the cardboard cushion.

“Looks like a scavenger!” the colt nickered excitedly. He swayed and danced on Rusted. His weight ebbing and dropping back into his gut. With each new press it burned a little harder. With each new prod he became a little more sick at the pressure.

“What!? Was no one keeping watch!” the mare roared. She was furious as she came over next to the colt.

“Oh, I was!” the stallion laughed. He was hot with excitement, that much Rusted could understand. “He thought he was being sneaky, he and that filly of his!”

“She's not mine.” Rusted croaked underneath the pressure of the watchpony. His eyes watered over the discomfort. He tried to curl himself more, alleviate the pain somehow. But his captor's weight was too much. His sides felt as if he'd herniate something if he moved. It was painful. It was a seering, biting pain in his stomach.

“There's two?” the mare asked.

“Two ponies and a pack Brahmin. Just the one!” the stallion snickered.

“Where there's one there might be more...” the mare started, “Blister! Get your lazy ass outside and keep a watch! I DON'T WANT SURPRISES!”

“Whatever.” an indifferent Blister said from afar.

“So who the hell are you?” the pegasi mare demanded, forcing the younger colt off of him. She hung over the crumbled Rusted. Her stare harsh and bitter. He could feel it burn against his skin. The force of her will made the hair of his mane stand on end.

“I- I-” he gasped weakly. The mare scowled and leaned over to hear, “I need to catch my breath.” he rasped weakly.

The mare wasn't having any of the excuses. With a slam, she pounded a forehoof clear through the mangled cardboard. The force of the impact from the power hooves rattled the entire building and he felt himself jump into the air with the detritus. Rusted's eyes widened at the sudden jostle and he forgot for a moment the whole-body pain as he waited to be again thrashed.

With a soft thud he landed back down with the trash. Balled pieces of paper rolled down onto his face as he starred up at the fuming pegasus. He blinked stupidly before muttering, “I work for...” he coughed, “Meal Plan.” he lied, cringing at the pain as opposed to the blatant lie.

The mare furrowed her eyebrows, glowering in incinerating disbelief in him. But behind him the anxious and superstitious raiders coiled and began stammering nervously to one another. “Fucking hell all mighty you already banged him up enough, don't get us all fucked!” pleaded a mare.

“He works for him?” a startled raider asked, “Shit, does he really? He didn't say he does, did he!?”

“SHUT UP!” the mare screamed. She leapt from over Rusted, turning on her men with the force of an angry bull. The blue pegasi stallion faltered to the side, narrowly dodging a swiping blow across the muzzle with a power hoof.

“If I haven't seen this fucking Meal Plan, then he doesn't exist!” she bellowed, “Now the caps are good, whoever is promising them! But it's not this Meal Plan! So stop fucking pissing yourselves around it!” she stomped her hooves for emphasis on the ground before advancing on them. Rusted lay in the garbage, weakly coughing up his guts as he watched, “The only thing that's real as far as I'm concerned was the down payment and the writing in the paper! Now you weak fuckers may not be able to so much count to five, but I sure can. And there was more than five zeroes on that payout!”

Rusted swore he could see steam blow from her nostrils as she huffed angrily. The pegasus stallion looked between her and them, lost and confused in what was going on. Slowly, she turned back on them. “You can fucking tell your non-existent prick boss that we're working on it!” she snarled, “You can put your own caps down on that!” she snapped angrily at the aching Rusted. He starred up at her, with a gaunt lost look on his face.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed that he wasn't leaving right there and then.

Rusted rattled through all the appropriate responses in his head. He could get up and run now, but he was close to what he needed. He could pull the lie again, but then there was the voice of no confidence whispering softly in his ears that he'd just fuck up and get flayed. And of course, he could shoot his way out and die for sure.

He smiled weakly. “Well uh- there's a problem with that.” he breathed meakly. Holding back his breath as he struggled to his hooves, “He's kinda got a possy on his way now and he wanted me to uh, check you out now.”

“Shit, he was a spy!” the blue pegasus cried, “Mom, let me do it now and we'll be done with it!” he shouted insistently.

“No!” the mare shouted. But the angry confidence seemed to be sapping with the anxious whispering of her own possy. She backed out carefully. The tip of her wings twitched. She looked him in the eyes, “I don't fucking like this.” she swore, looking up.

“And I can't believe I'm going to fucking believe you. Fuck all mighty. Alright, I'm leaving before he arrives. I'm heading out!” she exclaimed.

“W-wait!” her son called back, “I'm not seeing who this Meal Plan is either!” he shouted before taking fleight. Rusted watched in silent trapped awe as the two flew through the hole in the wall, leaving he and the raiders in the dark.

“Wait...” Blister started, “Who's going to lead us?”

“She will?” Rusted dumbly answered.

“Fucking Celestia's ballsacks, Sun Shimmer's on the withdraw!” the raider cursed, “Come on lads, we're not going down alone! We're following her out!” he yelled, charging off to the exit. A clamor or hooves followed suit, dust kicked up behind them as they stormed across the cement.

And then it was empty.