I let out a sigh as I used my magic to flick the lighter in my levitation, the worn down flint looking as if it had finally gone out. I flinched as a poorly aimed round ricocheted on the rock I was laying behind, the raiders who had ambushed me had been too hasty to fight and made the mistake of firing too early. I chewed on the end of my cigarette lightly before levitating it up as I concentrated on using my fire spell, smiling as I could hear it light up.

I brought it back down to my muzzle and took a long draw off of it while I stretched my legs a bit. I swiveled my ear as the sound of the gunshots drifted through the hills around me, no new rounds being fired at me. So what do I use? #5? Nah, they are still too close for the scope. If I took #3 off burst, I could probably hit them. Alright then, that's the plan.

I tugged open the holster for #3 as I rolled onto my belly, staying low while floating the black and silver gun to the side of my muzzle. Taking another long draw off of my cigarette, I held it in, not wanting the smoke to give me away. I swiveled my ears again, listening carefully for anything moving.

The soft crunch of a hoof on gravel to the right of me made me smile. I sprang up with my legs, levitating the gun in front of my muzzle as I spotted the grimy looking stallion trying to sneak out of cover. His break-open shotgun dropped out of his muzzle as he saw me, making a mad dash towards cover. I squeezed the trigger twice, sending the rounds his way where only one found a place in the side of his neck.

I dropped back down behind cover as his body tumbled out onto the ground in a crumpled heap, blood squirting out of his neck. Bullet’s chipped away at my cover, making me wish that I had my mother's Pipbuck so I could tell how many assholes were out here. Unfortunately for me, even though she's 'retired', she won't let me use the damn thing. Although, she did try to pawn Grandma's rifle off on me. Pft, I've got a pistol for every occasion, why would I need something as cumbersome as a rifle?

My ear caught the sound of somepony just on the other side of the rock. I rolled myself to the side as a raider jumped over it, jabbing a sharpened pipe into the dirt where I just was while screaming something from around the shaft. I tried to swing #3 around to her, but lost my focus on holding it when a scatter of shotgun pellets whizzed by, barely missing me.

The mare swung her head up and thrust the pipe at me again, dragging the tip of her makeshift ‘spear’ along my leather coat. If she had taken any time to actually make sure her weapon was sharp, I might have been in real trouble. But her mistake let me retrieve #6 from it's holster, quickly flipping it around and firing it. The recoil of the 20 gauge shot threw the firearm from my levitation, but shredded a hoof sized section of her chest. She slumped to the ground as I stuck low, listening for any hint on where to look next.

Two assholes down, most likely only one to go. I glanced around the dirt, quickly gripping #3 in my magic. My ear caught the quick beat of hooves moving away from me, giving me pause to think about my next action. I smirked as I dropped #3 and pulled out #5. One .44 magnum round, express delivery to the raider asshole who started this fight. I stood up and levitated the gun in front of me, taking my time as I carefully aimed at the cowardly stallion.

The gunshot echoed across the hills, a solemn warning to any other assholes in the area to stay the fuck out of my way.

Steel Junction wasn't much to look at from the hills above it, being no more than an odd collection of old brick buildings and the junk pile of a train yard it had been built for, but the depressed looks upon every residents faces always made me feel better. I don't know why, but whenever I run through here, I can't help but smile at all the grumpy folk.

I levitated my hat into my saddlebag and let my hair down, roughing it up with my hooves. I pulled out the rigged slave collar and put it around me, frowning as it chafed against my neck as it always did. This was always the tricky part. I had to play a convincing slave and hope that I could buy off the bartender to set up a meeting between me and the target. Paying off Keg Tap was never a problem, seeing as we've worked together for years. But it's making it convincing to anypony watching? That's always been the problem.

I left my preparation spot and trotted back up to the road, heading toward the city at a pace that made it look like I had run all night. I smiled as I entered the ornate iron archway into town, trying to pass myself off and having 'made it out' per se, trotting my way directly into Keg Tap's saloon. I pushed the doors open and walked in, darting my gaze around as if paranoid.

"Hello there, what can I..." Keg spoke as he turned around, stopping as he spotted me. "Oh, you look exhausted. Can I get you something sweet? Or perhaps something stronger to help with the pain?" He asked with a smile. This was part of the system escaped slaves used. If somepony answered with something sweet, they were looking for a place to hide out in town, if not, then they weren't actually a slave.

"Something... sweet?" I leaned forward and dropped my voice just enough so I could still be heard throughout the room. "I need a place to stay." I forced a nervous smile, turning my gaze around the room. I glanced up to the second story balcony, briefly spotting my target peering out from the shadows. I shot my gaze towards him, smirking before running out the door. If I had just played my cards right, she will be intrigued enough to come find me at my trapped shack outside of town.

As I ran along the dirt path that lead out of the small settlement, I did a mental tally of everything I needed to do. First was inspect the shack for inhabitants or wildlife. Second was clear out said inhabitants or wildlife. Third was set up the shotgun rigging. Mental side note here to load in the less lethal rounds I've carried around forever. I can't go screwing up a contract as important as this! And lastly, secure myself inside the mailbox to wait.

The shack was only about a half hours trot outside of town, and one could get here at a gallop in only fifteen minutes. That didn't leave me much time to get everything ready, but I've worked under worse constraints before. An odd shape caught my eye a few hundred feet out into the wastes behind the shack. It was a pony. A dark coated pony with a light colored mane that was laying on top of a rock, probably dead from some wasteland horror. An all too common sight out here.

I looked up into the sky, noting that the buzzards were circling fairly low, meaning it had been here for a while. I toyed with the idea of dragging it into the shack on occasion that it scared my target off, but there wasn't enough time, so I was just going to have to risk it. So in I went, levitating my gear out as I did a visual inspection of the inside of the shack. With no ponies or wildlife, I set the shotgun into the mounting I had built into the wooden table for it.

My magic tightened down the straps that held it in while feeding a single less-than-lethal round into the chamber. Satisfied that it was set up, I took my spool of wire and ran a line through several eye bolts I had secured into the floor to both the shack door and the trigger, tieing the trigger tightly before trotting to the door. As I swung it shut, I pulled it through a rusted hole and tied it to a nail that I melted to the sheet metal.

I turned and looked at the mailbox, swinging the back open with my magic as I scanned the horizon. Climbing inside, I was reminded that I actually enjoyed sitting inside the trashcan more so than this, because at least the trash had ventilation. I swear I could smell my flank cooking to the metal floor plate as I hoofed the mailslot down.

Now came the most annoying part of a contract; the waiting. All in all with this contract, she happened to be at the bar, which was perfect, and if Keg Tap played his role right, it would be fairly quick for her to make it here. I levitated half a bottle of water from my pack, taking my time to enjoy the warm liquid as I kept my eyes glued to the horizon.

As time ticked on, I used my forehoof to wipe the sweat from my muzzle. This box was nothing short of an oven today, and if I had to sit in it much longer, I'll be considered medium well to well done by anypony who'd found my cooked corpse. I spotted a small, dark dot on the horizon, raising #5 out of it's holster to my eye. She had wrapped herself in a cloak, but it was definitely the same mare as from the bar.

I smiled and pressed myself back against the scorching metal wall, folding the mail flap up just enough to where I could still see, but be better hidden. As she approached, I re-holstered #5, no need to keep it out if I had to take her alive at all costs. If this failed, then I'd have to find another way to try again. But, like all others, she nervously looked around as she trotted up to the shack. She stopped in front of the door, pressing her ear to it before opening it.

And then she trotted inside.

I blinked as she shut the door behind her. Where's the bang? Why the hell did my rigging fail!? I sighed and knocked my head against the wall in frustration, stopping as my ears picked up a soft murmuring inside the shack. Was she... talking with somepony else? I opened the mail flap and leaned my head closer, sticking my ear out of it to try to get what was being said.

I still couldn't understand it, but I could hear two voices, one a mare's, which was probably my target, and one a stallions. The real question was how the fuck did an asshole get inside my shed without my knowledge! Not only did he get in, but he disarmed my trap as well. Did this set of slaves have the resources to hire an anti-bounty hunter? Even so, he got here impossibly quick.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" The voice of the mare shouted, shortly before the door swung open. A dark coated stallion bolted out from the shack, zipping by the mailbox at his fastest. As he ran by, I noticed a brown and black tube in his muzzle. That asshole had stolen my shotgun! I turned around and was about to throw open the back hatch when something I completely didn't expect happened.

The shack exploded.

The force of the blast sent a forceful wave of air into my hiding place as several sharp pieces of metal punched through the rusty walls. Unlike the raiders spear, the hot shrapnel was indeed sharp enough to get through my coat, perforating me with several spikes of old sheet metal and wood splinters. The mailbox's legs gave out and was pushed over, the hatch behind me opening to spill me out onto my back as debris fell from the sky.

I coughed and groaned, at least, I think I did. My hearing had becoming nothing more than a dull, low ringing as I tasted the metallic crimson blood that flowed from my muzzle. I concentrated and focused on the healing potion I had in my saddlebag, gripping it and floating it up over me. My magic twisted the cap off and poured it over me, sealing my lacerations and other assorted wounds, the reason being that I needed to stem the bleeding before removing each object embedded in me.

With most of my superficial injuries dealt with, I brought the mostly empty bottle down to my muzzle, guzzling the rest of the magic laced liquid. I could feel it knitting me up from the inside, the always alien feeling of new tissue sewing itself together making me shudder. I attempted to roll myself over, but stopped when I tweaked several sheet metal knives sticking from my side and hind leg. I tossed the empty healing potion bottle aside, pulling out my emergency spare.

Using my magic, I managed to slip each piece from my side at once, a process that made me belt out what was probably an impressive scream I couldn't hear because of my blown hearing. I fumbled with my telekinesis as I felt lightheaded. One of the pieces must have hit an artery, and my blood pressure was dropping fast. I forced the potion against my side, letting most of it wash down me as it closed the grievous wounds.

I took a sip from the bottle, making my head feel a bit better as the fluid forced my body to replace the lost blood. It had been a close call, but my health was now in the clear. Well, all except for my hearing. Lifting the bottle, I tilted it and washed the last of the fluid into both of my ears, the odd ringing slowly being replaced with the crackling of the few fires that burned what was left of the shack.

I pulled myself to my hooves, walking over slowly toward where the old shack used to stand. Maybe she was able to survive the blast. I know that in a situation like this, the old table like the one in there was made of thick enough wood that it could have absorbed the force fairly easily. But as I climbed over a few pieces of sheet metal, I spied a cream colored hoof sticking out from underneath it. I lifted the sheet in my levitation, stopping when I found that the leg ended in a bloody mess just above the shredded cutie mark of a white star over a fireball.

Well fuck.

That was the one FUCKING caveat on the job, don't kill the asshole, and I failed. I threw the metal debris aside and roared out my frustrations. How the fuck could this have happened!? I've done this dozens of times before where I was in complete control of the situation, so how the FUCK did a stallion manage to get inside!? Whatever, I might as well snip her cutie mark, seeing as Big Shot is going to want proof she’s dead. I pulled my carving knife from my bag and got to work, trying to think of the best way to apologize to him.

As I walked back out to the road, I noticed the dark form of a pony laying on it. I knew it was the same asshole from the shed, I could just feel it. Sure enough, as I trot forward, lines of blood trailed through the dirt up to him. I blinked in astonishment as I recognized him as the same asshole I shot in the leg in Filly. He was bleeding from several deep lacerations as well, the blast tearing him up less than me, but enough he seemed to have passed out from the wounds.

I levitated out my normal bandages and magical healing bandages, wrapping them around him to stabilize his condition. There was no way I was going to let this asshole die before he told me how and why the hell he screwed up my plan. I levitated his saddlebags off and stuffed them inside my own, also taking my shotgun back from the dirt beside him. Once I had everything secured, I focused hard on my telekinesis, lifting his heavy body up and onto my back.

It was going to be a long walk back to town, but oooh, Celestia, save him when he wakes.

I clipped my fake slave collar around his neck as I sat on his chest, double checking the bindings I had tied around his hooves and the bed before I smacked him lightly on the cheek a few times. When there was no response, I decided to try... more drastic measures, swinging my left hoof across his muzzle. Finally that boxing magazine I had read payed off somehow as he groaned and shook his head. He opened his eyes slowly, the ice blue of them for some reason catching me off guard. He looked about in confusion, tugging at his hooves lightly for a moment before smiling and returning his gaze to me.

"Not normally my kink, but I'm cool with it." He smiled and winked. I rolled my eyes and levitated #1 over to his temple, making him cringe as I pressed it into him. "Ok, not so cool with it now, baby. Put dat piece away before ya hurt somepony."

"How the fuck did you get inside my shed?" I asked simply.

"What? Listen baby, I don't know..." He nervously looked around, stopping as I used my horn to levitate #2-6 into his view as well. "Alright, alright! I'll tell ya!" He turned his head and gave me a sad frown. "Geez, ya didn't have ta go dat far, doll."

I sighed as I felt my irritation levels rising. "Don't call me doll, or baby, or babe, or any other fucking degrading name you filthy piece of shit." I returned #2-6 back to their respective holsters, keeping my deringer pressed to his head.

"Well, then what AM I supposed ta refer ta ya as?" He smiled and waggled his eyebrows, making my skin crawl. This asshole disgusts me.

"You may refer to me as Miss Cap." I growled out, smacking him lightly with the gun. "Now talk. How did you get in?"

"I got inside through one of the back metal panels. It was loose, so I lifted it and slipped right in." He carried his glance between my glare and the gun. "So, can I go now?"

"You may go when I feel satisfied." I said, drawing a wide grin from him. "I swear to Luna, if you make another lewd reference, I will shoot you in the only head you think matters." My words made him deadpan with a sigh. "What the fuck were you doing in there, and why did you get my target killed?"

He looked shocked. "ME get HER killed? Why, she was the one who barged in on me trying to make a living!" I popped him hard in the nose with my hoof, making him groan. "Geez, lady, no need to..." I hit him again, a line of blood running down his muzzle slowly.

"I told you, it's Miss Cap." I raised my hoof again, watching him flinch. "Now. The truth."

"I saw ya go inside!" He shouted as I swung my hoof again. I stopped just before connecting, raising an eyebrow as he continued. "Sometimes when ponies go in, they stash some good stuff somewhere they think is hidden, but I can find it."

I crossed my hooves on my chest and glared down at him. "Go on..."

"And when I got in there, I knew ya had ta have hidden somethin good, cause nopony traps a room without somethin good bein inside!" He spoke slower, regaining some of his calm. "But after I disarmed the trap, I couldn't find anythin at all! It was like ya didn't leave anything in there. But dat's when I heard movement outside, and I thought dat maybe ya had returned."

"Get to the part where my shack exploded." I sighed and rubbed my forehead with my hoof. This is the asshole that screwed everything up? Why is it I feel so disappointed that he’s not at least a little bit smarter?

"I was gettin there, babe." He scrunched his muzzle up at that, catching my glare. "I MEAN MISS CAP!" He cringed and waited for my swing, relaxing when it didn't come. "Well, as I was sayin, I had hidden myself when this other mare came walkin in. I figured dat since she didn't know I was there, I'd scam a few caps offa' her."

"And how were you going to manage that?" I asked boredly. Maybe I should just cut my losses and shoot him. Big Shot was already going to be pissed, not to mention I was now in debt to him 1,500 caps. Fuck this sucked.

"Ya see, there's a lil' trick I pull with a broken grenade on a string." He smiled, sounding more like he was bragging about it than explaining it. "I slip it inta their bags with a wire attached and demand they pay me or I pull the stem. Even if they pay, I pull the stem out an bolt inta the sunset, gettin away while they're too busy dealin with a grenade dat'll never go off."

"If they are duds, why did your little trick KILL MY TARGET!?" I hit him again, feeling a bit of the stress bleed off like the crimson down his nose.

"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed and tugged at the bindings on his hooves. "I was just sold those grenades with the assurance dat they didn't work! If I had known it was goin ta go off, don't ya think I would have tried ta hide?"

He did have a point, but accident or not, he just cost me 3,000 caps and made me fail a contract. Something that's only happened four other times before in my life, and a number that I was proud to be able to hold over my mothers head. Now we're tied thanks to this asshole. Goddesses, fuck my life.

"I swear, dat's the whole shebang!" He cried out, stopping as he realized what he said. "No, not bang, accident! Oh goddesses, please don't kill me." He whined, sounding like he was going to cry.

"Quiet down and quit acting like a foal." I said, standing up and jumping down off the bed. "I have standards as a bounty hunter, and I don't kill assholes without a contract." He smiled with teary eyes. "Although..." I watched that smile drop. "You did cost me quite a lot today. That's why I put that explosive collar around your neck. You work for me until I see fit that your debt has been paid. Got it?"

He looked shocked, moving his head around as he now realized that it was there. "But, I didn't mean ta do it! I've got a wife an two foals!" He pleaded. Oh Celestia, I hate when morons try to lie.

"Oh really? What are their names?" I sighed and stared at him, unimpressed. He froze for a moment before shaking his head and shrugging.

"Yea, ya got me there." He smiled looked over to me. "Ya know..."

"Let me just stop you there." I held my hoof up as I cut him off. "Rule number one, no fraternizing with the boss. Rule number two, I am the boss. Rule number three, you do what the boss asks without hesitation or question. Failure to comply with any of the stated rules may result in your immediate, let's say 'termination'. Yeah, that's a soft enough way to put it." I undid the bindings on his rear hooves. "Do you agree with these terms."

"Yea." He sighed in defeat, wiggling his rear hooves in relief. "Just one question. How’d ya know dat I was lyin about a wife an kids?"

I smirked. "Cause assholes always break rule number one." I undid the bindings on his forehooves. "And only morons do it twice, especially when the first time gets them shot by me." I pointed my hoof to his leg, making him look down at it. As his mind made the connections, I couldn't help but snicker. It totally doesn't make up for the shit that happened, but I am going to make this stallions life a temporary living hell.

After everything today, I fucking needed a smoke.

Author's Notes:

Side note: Sorry I put the title of this chapter in fancy, but it's french for 'Such is Life', Which I felt was appropriate for what PC had to go through this chapter. Also sorry if this section seems a little sparse, but I'm running on 4 hours of sleep at the moment.

Thanks to Kkat, Somber, Mimezinga, No_One, Stonershy, John Colt, Hetnu, Xjuan, Sawyer, Vocal, and Bad Pun. You all are truly the most inspiring set of individuals out there.

Special shout out to Regolit, Deathpony, and everypony on the IRC for being all around generally awesome!