Chapter 23: The Fillydelphia Situation

Artemis sat in a mahogany pew it's dark polished wood almost looked jet black. The place was big and spacious but she could not say where she was, a cathedral perhaps. Everything was darkened and dimmed- the stain glass windows were dark with the lack of sunlight further blanketing the hall in shadows. Nearly all of her surroundings were dark except for the altar near the priest's podium. The altar was liberally bathed in light coming from the ceiling as if the light was coming from heaven itself.

She noticed the heads of four ponies a couple pews in front of her but their features were unattainable. They were little more than silhouettes. A minute later a wine purple mare walked into the column of light which was actually shining down into a small depression in the floor, like a baptismal pool only empty. The mare looked at the four ponies in the front pews but seemed to pay no mind to Artemis. She saw the mare's lips move and it was reasonable enough to think that she was talking with one of the silhouette ponies. A bad feeling began to curl inside Artemis's gut.

After the quite conversation had concluded the purple mare walked back into the empty baptismal pool and stood forlorn by a marble slab. Artemis noticed the familiar chanting of the cultist hum to life from the shadows.

The mare in the pool gulped as if she was hesitating. She picked up a pair of sharp scissors trembling. Her eyes darted to the four ponies like she regretted her decision for a split second. Just as Artemis realized what she was observing something changed, her perspective, literally. She was in the back of the cathedral but now she could see the mare up close as if she was in the pool watching. It was like she was out of her own body, Artemis tried to yell to stop the mare from mutilating herself but she was mute and couldn't turn away.

The mare pulled her lower lip outward in place as she pressed the scissors to her mouth. She hesitated for a split second again. She slowly closed the scissors down until a wretched slice cut through the air. The mare quickly dropped the scissors and they fell on the pearl white floor of the pool with a metallic clang and a few tiny droplets of blood fell from her cut lip. She scrambled to pick up the scissors as if she was going to fail this wicked test of will. She had been pressing her hoof up to her lip but shakily let go to again pull her lower lip out again. More blood trickled down to the floor when she pulled her lip outward stretching the flesh. She flinched nearly dropping the scissors again but this time she did not falter. The blades sliced through her lips three times until she couldn't take the pain any longer. She hit the scissors against the marble slab where tongs, pliers, a sickle, and assortments of torturous cutlery rested. The mare held her head to the side so her observers couldn't see her falterings. Blood droplets fell to the white floor more freely than when she first made the incision. Breathing heavily the cultist initiate rose back to the table, her lip was dangling on her mouth now bleeding down her chin. She picked up the scissors again and held them to the broken skin that kept her lip attached to face. With a clench of her eyes and a hard press of the scissors her bottom lip fell off her face and into the empty pool with a small splat of blood. The mare finally paused trying to catch her breath. More blood trickled from her botched lip that revealed her pink gums and white teeth.

But the mare did not stop there. She repeated the process by cutting off her upper lip with those damnable scissors. It seemed the more pain she caused herself the easier it became. The cultist mare stuck two metal rods in her nose, both were large enough to close each nostril. Next she cleared off the marble table with one fell sweep throwing the instruments to the blood stained floor. She took slow shuddering breaths through her bleeding mouth as she put her forehooves on the table. She stared at the marble and after she completed her mental preparation. Once the mare was ready she slammed her face head-first into the marble table with so much force that even the silhouette ponies in the pew cringed. The awful crunch told that she had broken her nose beyond repair. Blood stains decorated the empty pool in a show of horrible self mutilation. The bloody metal rods hit the floor and rolled away from the spectacle. She picked up the pliers to wrench what was left of her nose off. The cold metal teeth grabbed onto the fleshy remnants but before the terrible pulling and snapping of gore, sinew and gushing of blood-

-Artemis woke up.

Artemis shouted scrambling out of her bed. In a frenzy she grabbed the small lamp by the nightstand and prepared to attack the foes that... that were not here. No ones was here, not even Verity. The only thing she could hear was the rumble rumble of the train moving and the racing landscape outside the window. It was just a dream... about the mare back in New Appaloosa. Artemis sighed and put the lamp back on the nightstand right side up. She rubbed the sleepies out of her eyes.

“What's wrong?!” Verity busted out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in his beak.

Artemis paused. That's where Verity was, the bathroom, oh. “I... had a bad dream.” She confessed somewhat embarrassed by her fit of terror.

Verity took his toothbrush out of his mouth. “Oh, I was just brushing my teeth one minute and the next I heard you screaming bloody murder. Do you have a lot of night terrors?”

“I, not normally.” Artemis remembered back to when she had that night terror when Verity first met them outside of Gryphondale and she thought he was leading them to a trap. “I guess I just have those when I'm worried about something.” She said as she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth too.

“What has you so worried? Except Fillydelphia.” Verity asked sitting outside the bathroom door having finished brushing his teeth.

Artemis spat into the sink. “Personally, it's The Cult. I know Hoofer Dam and the number station should be my main priority but, but.”

“But the dam and the number station take the back burner.” Verity finished.

“Yes, exactly. I can't imagine the number station or the battle of Hoofer Dam but I've seen those cultist, I know what they're capable of. They've cemented their presence in the NCR and they beat Littlepip's friends systematically. I don't know what I'm saying anymore.” Artemis sighed.

The blue griffon was quiet for a minute as though he was contemplating what to say next next. This time his silence remained.

Artemis supposed that her sentence didn't really warrant an answer anyway. She wondered if Gestalt and Mosaic were actually right about Oubliette and how it would only serve to harm her and her friends. If she had tossed Calamity's key into the sand when the twins last talked to her then Oubliette would have just been a hatch in the closet if they had even cared enough to discover it. But now that it was opened and it's horrible secret brought to the light Artemis didn't know what she was supposed to do with. Even if Calamity had a plan for Oubliette or how to get the truth out then how would she fit into it, would it even work, would they all end up dead? In truth Artemis didn't want to bring it up when they went to see Calamity for the debriefing, she just wanted to give him a heads-up about the Legion which he apparently already knew about beforehand.

Artemis finished brushing her teeth and fixing her feathers. She looked good when she saw herself in the mirror. “You ready to go?” She asked Verity.

“Yes, let's be off.” Verity answered in his low voice. They both left together and into the narrow hallway. No one else was in the hall so it was most likely they were early or they were late, either or.

They were late. Aroma, Alpha, Pembroke and Hans were all at their respective single tables. The room had been changed overnight. Instead of all the tables being arranged like a restaurant there were now only enough tables to fit Artemis and her friends along with a long table in the back of the train car that sat in front of a large gray screen and a projector in front of the table.

“Artery I thought you guys were gonna be late.” Aroma chirped from her table.

“Artery?” Verity muttered in slight befuddlement.

“It's our couple name Aroma made up for us. It's really cute.” Artemis explained to her partner.

“Oh.” Verity hummed. “Cute indeed.” He sat down at his table with the card marked “Verity Preensdale” on it.

After Artemis sat down- almost as if they were waiting until they were all seated. Calamity, Velvet Remedy and several “train employees” including Rusty entered the car and took their seats at the long table. The staff had retired the employee disguises and now just wore their Ranger armor no longer entertaining the ruse. Calamity sat in the middle of the table but moved his chair to the side so he could Artemis and the projector screen. The rust colored pegasus wore his decorated olive drab uniform and his hat with the golden two-headed bear on it flanked by four gold stars. Velvet looked beautiful as ever though she did seem anxious. She imagined Velvet was anxious a lot with The Cult constantly watching their every move. Artemis hoped this wasn't a particular move The Cult was watching.

Rusty tinkered with the projector and eventually turned it on. A white square shown on the screen behind Calamity. “Show them screen one, Ranger Rusty.” Calamity told his daughter.

Rusty fished in a narrow box and pulled out a transparent screen that she laid on the projector. It's imagine was then magnified behind Calamity. “I got the lights.” Velvet commented and with a glow of her horn the blinds on the windows of the car closed blanketing the room in darkness save for the light and humming of the projector.

Slide one showed a picture of Fillydelphia, still devastated. It looked pretty much what Artemis imagined the hellish city like. “Fillydelphia?” Artemis wondered aloud.

Calamity nodded. “Eeyup, if you've read Littlepip's book then you pretty much got the low-down on what the city's like.”

“The book said Red Eye's army splintered into warring factions at the end of the book.” Aroma noted.

Calamity nodded in agreement and looked to his unicorn daughter. “Slide two.” He turned back to Aroma. “Eventually those factions died off due to their incessant warfare, using deductive reasoning who do you think was left after those factions were gone.”

There was a pause. Artemis wasn't sure if the general was wanting an answer. “Uhh... the slaves?” Pembroke guessed with a shrug of her huge hand/paws whatever you wanted to call them.

Calamity fluttered his wings. “Exactly.” Slide two was put on the projector. It showed a pony, a white earth pony stallion. He was cut up and had a black eye, he wore an orange jumpsuit and a mischievous grin too. But this was a mugshot, he held a sign in his hooves that read NCRCF 91101.

“Who's that hunk?” Hans asked.

Calamity seemed to scowl at the picture. “We don't know his name, he refused to tell us. He only calls himself: The King of Trash. He's an agitator.

“So he's a rabble-rouser.” Verity purred. Calamity didn't know if Verity was approving of the King of Trash.

“Is that why you arrested him? Political prisoner. ” Pembroke asked seeming to sympathize with the beaten pony.

Calamity shook his head. “No. We arrested him down by the wharves when he and some of his lackeys attacked and group of NCR citizens. He's not a political prisoner he's a terrorist.” The word terrorist cut the air like a fine blade.

“Well, why'd he attack NCR citizens and you sound as if he's not a citizen?” Artemis questioned but tried to not sound prying but then again why was he telling them all this? Forewarning? Questions were only natural.

Velvet Remedy began to answer when Rusty interrupted. “The King of Trash has the hearts and minds of the residents of Fillydelphia. He agitates old wounds and lies through his Celestia damned teeth. He musters the people of Fillydelphia under the banner of ex-slaves that will never be slaves again.” Rusty spat.

“Isn't that a good thing?” Artemis interjected.

“Statement: User Artemis it is chronologically impossible for the King of Trash to have been a slave. Perhaps if he was over the age of fifty then perhaps.”

Rusty smiled sardonically at Alpha. “Your little sex-bot is right. The King of Trash was never a slave or his followers but yet they lay claim that any attempt to get them to join the NCR or abide by normal laws is subjugation and you'll shit yourself when you see how fast the ponies of Fillydelphia will jump to his cause.”

“Why do you let him push you around? Why not storm Fillydelphia and make a pelt out of him?” Verity interlocked his talons suavely.

“Lemme guess, he has something you want. It's a political standoff.” Pembroke guessed grimly.

Calamity put down his drink. “You bet. Him and his followers i.e. everypony in Fillydelphia have taken control of our steel mills in the city. He keeps them under an iron fist and refuses to trade with us unless we take back our troops further and further. He also wants us give him and his people drugs, food & water, alcohol, medicine, weapons and... other sex devices- just so he'll consider trading with us! And in the end NCR High Command always caves into his demands and the King of Trash spits in our face everyday.”

Rusty flicked a hoof. “And he isn't one for bartering. Anytime we try to get him to negotiate or at least act like a decent fucking pony he goes and cries foul to the people of Fillydelphia saying that we want them to be slaves to us and they believe him like the words coming from Celestia herself.”

“But I still don't get it, he's just way too young to have been a slave?” Artemis asked again.

Calamity gave a grim chuckle. “That's the hypocrisy of it all isn't it. The King of Trash has never worn shackles a day in his damn life- except when he was arrested for assaulting NCR citizens. Now he goes around calling himself 91101 whenever he wants to get the peoples pity.” The general paused. “But now this crisis is at a fever pitch, he blatantly refuses to give us our steel mills and he just takes the foreign aid High Command sends him. As much as I like Mr. Preensdale's pelt suggestion all out warfare in the city wouldn't work since I have no doubt the King of Trash is ready to demolish the mills the minute we fire a shot.”

“They live in a constant state of hedonism and debauchery, they won't even let the Followers into the city.” Velvet added sadly. Her blues eyes lowered which made her seem all the more precious. “The fillies and colt suffer the most, illiteracy, violence are just some of the few things that lead to their demise... And their parents, if they even keep them, don't teach them to be self reliant they just teach them by example to live recklessly and that the government owes them everything.”

“That's where you guys come in.” Calamity added with the slightest look of hope. “You guys aren't from here, you can sneak into Fillydelphia and kill the bastard. I assure you'll be compensated, I can see to it that High Command accidentally loses 500,000 dollars. Some of the senators might not be able to eat lobsters and Brahmin Wellington every night but I think they'll survive.” Calamity promised with a coy smile of I couldn't care less about those damned politicians.

Velvet looked surprised and disapproving but it was Rusty that spoke first. “Wait dad remember the Nephilim?” Calamity rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Fuck, the Nephilim I forgot. Put slide three up Rusty.” Calamity rubbed his eyes in annoyance.

Rusty took the slide of the King of Trash's mugshot off the projector and put a picture of... of something on the light. It was hard to describe as the picture was quite blurry but Artemis made out a pony-unicorn stallion- but the size had to be off. Besides the irregular size it looked as if this Nephilim character was wearing a diving helmet with a drill where a unicorn's horn would be.

“What on Celestia's green earth is that?” Hans asked eying the picture like Artemis was.

Calamity snorted. “I'd tell you if I knew, it seems Fillydelphia has a knack for spitting up the strangest monsters. We don't know his real name but the soldiers have taken to calling it Nephilim on account of it's massive size.”

“What is it exactly?” Aroma asked.

Rusty answered. “It's hard to explain, he's a pony encased in that armor and no conventional weapons seem to hurt him. He doesn't talk either, personally I don't think he can.” On the picture Rusty pointed to an older mare in the background that seemed to be yelling at him. “That's his mother or at least that's what she calls herself. She tells Nephilim what to do and what to smash. The damn thing's wiped out seventeen of our patrols in the last week.”

“And I take it Nephilim works for the King of Trash?” Aroma theorized.

Rusty smiled. “Very astute Aroma.” She licked her lips. “But you're half-right. Our intel suggests that Nephilim isn't like the King of Trash's normal followers, we think the King controls Nephilim somehow.” She took slide three and replace it with slide four. Slide four showed a picture of the King of Trash as if the photographer was in a crowd and his highness was on a stage of sorts.

“See what he's holding?” Rusty asked.

Artemis looked at his forehooves and in his right hoof he held a short golden scepter that ended with a top but the top of the scepter was wrapped in black leather.

“One of our spies took this photo two weeks before Nephilim started targeting NCR personnel. And since then Nephilim has only target NCR peoples.”

“So you think the King of Trash is somehow using that rod to control Nephilim. And you want us to take it?” Artemis asked not liking where this was heading. They were just here to find the MoM hub and the MWT building so they could help Alpha. They weren't going to take sides in a war.

“Yes. You steal the Rod of Nephilim, kill the King of Trash and then we'll roll in from Macintosh Air Base. Do try to kill the King in secret please we-.”

“General Calamity with all due respect we're not assassins. We were just coming to Fillydelphia to find the MoM and MWT buildings.” Artemis interrupted.

Calamity nodded to Rusty. “But Artemis you're the only ones that have a chance of getting into Fillydelphia. Besides you're going to meet the King of Trash one way or another so why not get paid half a million dollars to do it?

Rusty walked up to Artemis's table and opened a briefcase, she waived a hoof around the case as if she were a game show mare revealing a prize. Inside were rows of stacks 100 NCR dollar bills. “I'll pay you 100K up front and I'll pay the other 500,000 after the job is done.” Calamity promised. “We'll have it sent to your drivers back in New Appaloosa immediately.”

“You forget general, I'm not a mercenary.” Verity grumbled looking disdainfully at the money.

“But I am.” Artemis told her lover. “And besides, Hayseed and Lady could use that money back home.”

Pembroke hummed disapprovingly. “Hmm I'm with Verity on this one. I'm an ambassador not an assassin, maybe we could try something more... diplomatic.” Artemis internally faceplam'd. It wasn't everyday you saw a hellhound suggests diplomacy. Only in their group though...

“I'm down Arty.” Hans voted and kicked back in his seat.

“Suggestion: We should take the job in case we do dispatch the King of Trash during our escapades in Fillydelphia.”

Aroma glanced at the opponents to accept the money and the proponents. “Umm I say we take it.” She voted demurely.

“Then take the money Artemis, but I'll have no part in it.” Verity said coldly. She always wanted to be in the business of killing, a lot of griffons did, they were the best at it.

“I'll take it.” She told Rusty and now Artemis is a soldier of fortune.

Rusty closed the case. “Good decision.” Calamity added from his table.

“Is there anything else we should know honey?” Hans asked cutely.

Calamity rubbed his chin. “Nothing you won't learn at Macintosh AB. When you get off the train make your way there, it's north through Downtown and South Central.”

Velvet Remedy nudged her husband's arm. “Oh yeah.” He sparked up. “This train will be coming back in a week so you have seven days to kill the King and do whatever else it is you're wanting.”

Seven days to kill a king! That's 168 hours and they have to leave Fillydelphia with this train because they didn't have any other means of transportation besides their feet. It was apparent they would have to kill the King of Trash just before they left otherwise they'd be fighting through an angry mob and she didn't even have an inkling on what to do about Nephilim.

Later back in their room car after their meeting came to an end...

“You're not mad at me are you Verity?” Artemis asked. Not that she would change her mind but his opinion was valuable to her given their intimacy.

Verity just looked out the window that was starting to become black and red. She sat down by him on the leather seat her paw leg touching his. He looked back at her. “I'm not mad, it's just seeing someone of such high blood do something as... as dissolute as soldiering for hire it's like prostitution.” He confessed dourly.

Artemis sat up. “Are you calling me a prostitute?” She asked sternly.

Verity sighed. “No... but it's like that. He's paying you under the table to do a service. I just didn't want to see someone of your status do something like that.”

Artemis tried to play it off. “You and me have very different ideas of prostitution. And what status? The Legion hates me, Valiance hates me and my father never wanted me. The only ties I have to the Legion are you and my mother.”

He looked at her with... with sadness in his eyes. Sadness? “Is that a bad thing?”

Damn that came out wrong. “Jeez Verity no.” She put an arm around him. “We're Artery and what I did was not prostitution- now what Hans used to do was prostitution.”

Verity gave a weak smile. “I'd rather not imagine Hans's prostitute days.”

“You and me both.” Artemis agreed.

Verity got up from the seat and went to the door. “I guess I still have some Legion etiquette to change. Goodbye Artemis, until next time.”

Artemis walked to the door but Verity was already gone. She wanted to tell him something about how she didn't want him to change or something romantic like that. Personally she couldn't imagine Verity being happy or charming; he was grim, stoic and cynical but she loved him because of that. Looks like she would be sleeping alone tonight and if what Calamity says was true they might not have time to sleep at Fillydelphia at all.

Oh sister Artemis has really opened Pandora's box now.

If only she heeded our warning then she wouldn't be caught up in the shadow war Calamity and the other old fools are fighting.

What do you make of her and Verity? Aren't they a little sweet?

Come now sister you can't really care about that. Artemis and all her friends are pawns on our chessboard and when they've served their role they will cast aside like any utility that has served it's purpose.

True, sister.

Next Chapter: Chapter 24: The Fillydelphia Strain pt.1 It's Always Sunny In Fillydelphia Estimated time remaining: 21 Minutes