It all still felt foreign to me. Returning to Orthrus, being given my orders, and even the the normal food and drink. It was a lot more high quality food then I had ever eaten before, which only compounded how weird this all felt. It was not until I had entered into a metro train and was surrounded in its claustrophobic space, able to feel and hear it rattling as it moved that I felt I’d returned home. I was home, yes, but only so I could set it on fire.

Red's silver tongue had pulled through, and the Trade Union were bending over backwards to get her to invest in them. The Enclave, and their cloud city was a big opportunity for them, sure. But an island with fertile ground, that was not just an opportunity for them, but a future. Though of course like any competent business, they still wanted to see this land with their own eyes before any contracts were signed. Even so, it didn't mean that they were not going to wine and dine her as much as possible to gain her favor for any future deals.

As for the syndicate, it was more a wild guess in how Red and them would work out. Still, I had a good feeling that they had more common ground with each other then any pony on this island. At the very least it was a scary thought, but really not a surprising one.

The only real dampener on this ride was the inclusion of Tamboril, now wearing an old stable-tec barding. She was clearly here to keep an eye on things, but having a specter as high profile as her, the daughter of a council representative, was very self defeating for my own mission. I could only guess Naqara had one more unofficial mission for me, and even hinting at it would be too dangerous.

*bing bong bing*

The trains speakers cracked with the sounds of bells, all before a voice of a mare spoke up to give one of the normal messages they spouted at regular intervals.

“Thank you for using the Orthrus rail line, our duty is to keep you safe. In the case of an emergency, please seek your closes Orthrus employee for guidance. Everypony employed by Orthrus is trained for crisis management, first aid, and will guide you to the closest safe zone. This service is only possible with your trust, and supported by our sponsors. Please consider them the next time you visit pineapple island.”

Red raised an eyebrow. “Orthrus likes to talk about themselves almost as much as a blowhearted captain.”

I rolled my eyes. “Think of it as reminding the faithful of who is in charge. Not directly saying they are in power, but the point is all the same in the end. That and panicked ponies tend to be stupid, if their not reminded often on what to do in a crisis, they tend to make everything worse as they get themselves killed.”

*bing bong bing* The bells over the speakers announced the first advertisement.

“Have you ever wanted to know the sensation of trotting on organic hooves? Do you need a new set of organs that are truly your own? Do you have a dream of bearing life within yourself and becoming a mother? Then New Gen Genetics is here for you! Using our state of the art cloning process, we can grow any body part you need to replace, or those you were never born with, all without the risk of transplant rejection! We also offer a gene enhancement treatments for expecting mothers, freeing you from the worry of birth defects, and allowing you to make the perfect foal. Several comprehensive payment plans keep the procedures affordable on any budget, so talk to a financial officer today and find the plan that best fits you and your family! New Gen, creating a better you, today.”

I didn’t think they used to play these things quite so much, and I had a strong feeling that this was directed a Red. There was little doubt in my mind actually, as her own interest in New Gen Genetics was almost blatant at the party. She was an intelligent mare, so I was confident that she would not be sucked in by the directes advertisement.

“Say Cold Iron,” Looking at the captain, Red Steel was actually scratching her chin, looking deep in thought. “if what thar say is true, not only can I repair my womb, but I can have superior foals? That's quite amazing.” Or she could buy into every little thing they promised...

There was practically stars in her eyes, and I had to hold back from face hoofing. “Red, what you heard was an advertisement. Yes, New Gen can do some amazing things, but they’re making themselves sound better then the truth; that what they offer is the most expensive thing in the entire metro.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I have a reserve of pieces of eight!” Red clapped her hooves together. “Along with the deals I’ll be making with the ponies here, I’ll be set for a good long while. No expense will be too great for me.”

Now I faced hoofed. She bought it, every single bit of it, hook, line, and sinker. Though even so, Red might actually be able to afford the costs, which would be impressive in its own right. “Wait, what's a piece of eight?”

Red smiled, and pulled out two coins, one gold and the other silver. Both had one side with an hourglass that looked like an ‘8’, and he other side with Saint Roselands cutie-mark on it. “It’s the official coin minted in Avalon. The silver is called Reals, and the gold is called Escudos, but most sailors call the collective currency ‘pieces of eight’.” She put the coins away into her picket. “If any creature has enough pieces of eight, they can buy themselves anything they want, a new ship even. But annoyingly, even when Avalon pays us, we are required to pay back a large tithing in order to keep ourselves, and our ships blessed. But unknown to then, I actually have a nice buried chest full of the coins, and I just need to find an old captain looking for a retirement fund. I’m betting that the Trade Union will fall over themselves to have access to a ship, owned and leased to them by me, of course.”

I had to retract my own feeling of dumbfoundedness, for Red might be the best, and worst thing to happen to the Trade Union, and I was not even mad about it. Actually, fuck those corporate morons, I hope Red dominates them. They could all burn in Tartarus for causing the equalist revolution in the first place.

“Red, whenever I think you can’t scare me anymore then you already have.” I said with a smerk and a wink. “You never cease to surprise me.”

*bing bong bing*

The next add started, though with much more of a gap between it and the previous one. It didn’t sit right with me, and gave me the feeling that some pony was listening in on us, and letting us ponder on the advertisement before the next one played. It also felt that the train was moving a bit slower than normal, the times between the thumps of adjoining rails just felt further apart then normal.

Through the speakers, a familiar voice of a stallion spoke up, and made my heart twist in dread. The stallion was Flugelhorn, my sister's fiance.

“The metro is a dangerous place. Between the wildes of the surface, and the shadows within the tunnels, protecting yourself and your family should not be the last thing on your to-do list. At Cornet’s guns and Knives, we offer you the very best in self protection. From airguns, basic combustion arms, even to the latest in civilian rail guns, we have what you want. And lets not forget our vast collection of hoof made knives in all sizes and makes, we offer you all you need to protect you and your family.”

I looked over at Tamboril, who just gave me a slight nod, and looked away. I wanted to call her a bitch for that, but at the same time I understood. Rototom was her partner, and my sister, and I doubted that she had as much time to grieve as I have been been given. And now, the bad news had to be delivered to Flugel.

*Bing Bong Bing*

The next add was here, with a much shorter pause then the last one.

“Good day Marewaii!! This is DJ Cerberus, on metro channel three, here to give you the news!” Something about her voice sounded off, but then again she was playing through the trains shitty speakers. “As you all know, it's only been a few days since that overpowered radio signal burst through every speaker on the islands, and left many ponies, including yours truly, with a burnt piece of junk we once called a radio. Well, I have good news, who ever sent that signal actually reached their target, and got a response. That's right my little ponies, we reached out to the world outside, and the world has called back.”

DJ Cerberus wisiled, and gave a soft chuckle before continuing. “From what I have been told, and take it with a grain of salt, two groups have come to Orthrus from the outside world. First was our unexpected visitors from before, the Enclave. As it turns out, they got a cloud city out there somewhere. Imagine the fresh air one can get in such a place. The second group is actually the pirate outsiders that have been harassing us for the last month. The same ones who raided the Orphic Kingdom, and who Orthrus has somehow negotiated a ceasefire with, as well as a possible trade deal. I don't know about the rest of you all, but If Orthrus can help keep some random vertibucks from taking potshots at us, I’m all for whatever they do next. Wish them good luck, as peace is preferable to the alternative. This has been DJ Cerberus with the news, and now back to the tunes.”

That broadcast seemed far too supportive of Orthrus, nothing like Cabrette, making me a bit suspicious.

*Bing Bong Bing*

The speakers chimed again. “In the case of an emergency, Orthrus would like to remind you that the windows can be unlocked and removed from the inside. Within the tunnels, the trail of red lights will guide you to the nearest safe room where you can get in direct contact with Orthrus. Your safety is our duty, and we thank you for choosing the Orthrus rail line.”

With that, the advertisement was over, and it hit me. Those adds weren’t for Red, rather, they were for me. Leave it to Orthrus to subtly giving me directions to where I needed to go. First off, it was clear that I was dropping Red off at New Gen Genetics, where she should attract most of the attention of any outside parties. Then next was to Cornet’s, likely it involving telling Flugelhorn about my sister, meaning that Tamboril was coming with me. Lastly, Orthrus wanted me to make a stop at club Three-Dog, and I doubted it was so I can get drunk and dance.

________________________________________

When the train came to a stop, we stepped out into the clean and decorated entrance of Curtius Station. Even though Red was mostly able to keep herself in control during our tour of Orthrus HQ, the other four pirates had been far more opinionated, but that was around the more disciplined Orthrus employees. Now we were entering a civilian zone, where not everypony needed to hold their tongue, or was restricted from starting a fight. At least the presence of the armed Orthrus regulars was an active reminder to the pirates that if they started shit, they definitely weren't going to be on the winning side.

Waiting for us was three ponies wearing well tailored suits, the Trade Unions little greeting party. Along with them, were two Orthrus commandos in heavy armor and armed with Orthrus broomsticks, the heavy automatic shotguns looking as pristine as the day they’d been built. Their presence made sure that the civilians gave them a wide berth as more than a few gawked at the group of us approaching.

“You must be captain Red Steel,” One of the suits, a happy looking mare lacking any cybernetics, trotted over to us. “so very charmed to meet you. My name is Reverberate, you can call me Reverb for short. I’m a junior CEO of new gen genetics, and your escort for this tour of our home.” She was a mirage pony for sure, but her fur was pure white with no stripes, and her mane was a striking a neon blue, giving me the feeling that both were not natural. With her being a New Gen CEO, I felt safe in assuming that a fair amount of her body parts were lab grown and her odd coloring was just from dieting her fur to cover mismatched colors.

Red pulled out a flask, and took a swig of whatever was inside, all before giving the mare a wide smile. “Alright little mare, show me what ya got.”

“Y… Yes mam.” Reverb paused for a moment, seemingly taken aback by Red Steel. “I'm sure you won't be disappointed in the least. We even have a live demonstration set up if you’re interested. A mare on our waiting list had agreed to wait to have her procedure just a bit longer so that it could be recorded in full.”

I had a good feeling that the mare was likely a pony put on a waiting list so New Gen could gouge them for more bits to be moved up, and now unwittingly being used to fully sell themselves to the interested Red. That wasn’t anything new though, just business here in the metros.

“That’s a lovely Idea.” I said as I stepped in, giving Red a nod. “Though I hope you have other entertainment for the good Captain. Watching a surgery can become boring for some you know.”

Reverve looked me in the eyes and gave off the feeling of fear. “You… you're quite right ma’am. We will be providing a few other shows of interest during our own demonstration, from the other interested parties in the Trade Union. Whatever the Captain wants, we can provide.”

It was an unusual position for me, but as Red had explained, as long as she did not make any clear demands, it freed her from liability. Still, I couldn't outright ask for them to provide a pony for her to sexualy abuse, but as long as she didn't make the suggestion, no pony could use it against her. How easy it was to dodge responsibility actually made my stomach churn a little, and gave some clarity to why the equalist revolted against them.

Still, the Equalist were worse than these corporate blood suckers in the end. Again though, the Equalists would likely never have existed without the corporations fucking things up. It was only a minor difference in evil, and both were an affront to the progress they claimed they supported for ponies of the metros.

Escorted onwards, we had a brief tour of Citrus Station to take a look through the window of a few shops. The pirates made a few notes of where they wanted to come back to later, with the twin griffins very interested in some of the guns the were on display. Though they were disappointed that they were only made for ponies, I let them know that there was a few smaller gun mills that could make a custom order for them. That got me on their good side, though they made it clear that they wanted to be taken to one of these gun mills. Luckily it was next on my list of where to go.

It didn't take long to get through the bustle of the market, and past the rithmic work of the factories. With those behind us, we got to the corporate district of the station, where it was disconcerting how quiet everything had become. We could hear the hoof steps of ponies moving all about, and quiet whispers of them talking, but it just lacked the life that the rest of the metro had.

Entering New Gen’s main office, I had a disturbing feeling of deja vu. Everything inside was gray and sterile, with the odd plastic plant and motivational poster decorating the gray walls. Actually, the posters reminded me a lot of the republic, from the simplistic, and upbeat art, to how it promoted conformity and a focus on working hard.

One poster had three ponies standing next to each other, all three looking the same, it stating “There is no ‘I’ in Teamwork.” And another showed a distressed pony inside a water cooler, it saying “ Loose Lips Creates Rifts. Gossip ends with you!” It continued just like in the republic, about little things, and if I didn't know any better, I would think this was a Republic base. Actually there were a few anti-Republic posters, mainly about keeping an eye out for spies, and keeping their key cards on them at all times.

We passed through their offices, making our way to where the show was. Row upon row of ponies sat in cubicles, quietly tapping at their terminals. Almost alarmingly, some were connected to the terminals by a cable sticking into their augmented neck. Steam Press, the wrench mare, seemed a bit too excited by this part of the corporation, but then again she did have a mister helper arm for a tail...

Past the corporate drones, we reached where they performed their medical operations, and beyond that, an observation area were we could look down on an operation. The room we were in was set up with a small catering table, actually having a chef and a few catering staff still preparing things for us. In the middle of the room was a naked and obese mare lying on a table face down as another pony was giving her a massage. The masseuse pushed her mechanical hooves into the fat mares folds, the hooves making a buzzing sound as it vibrated the mare.

She was the kind of pony I dreaded working for as a mercenary. Spoiled, decadent, and almost always saw other ponies as mere tools to be used. And it wasn’t just me that hated mares like her. If Sweet was here, the only way this would go was with her being dragged out by security on harassment charges.

“You must be the mare in charge,” Red put on a big smile, and trotted up to the fat mare. “hard to miss by the aura of success you give off.” Red grabbed a seat from nearby, and placed it near the fat mare before sitting on it. “So, I heard you have setup a demonstration for me, and on such short notice, very impressive.”

The fat mare chuckled. “Thank you for noticing, I have worked hard to be this impressive.” She waved her hoof slightly, and the masseuse backed up, giving the mare room to sit up. “The names Tuba Bellow, senior CEO of New Gen Genetics, and I’ve heard that your a mare with potentially lucrative assets.”

Crossing her legs, Red took on a confident posture. “Red Steel, Captain of the Weeping Pegasus, and trust me, lucrative does not begin to describe what potential deals I have on offer.”

Letting Red work her charm, I turned my attention to the showroom floor, where the table in the middle was currently empty. All the medical supplies were ready, along with a projector, and one pony in scrubs cleaning the floor. It was a place of healing, anypony could see that at a glance, but I could not shake a feeling of wrongness from looking down at it.

“I hate this place.” Tamboril spoke up, looking down at the same spot as I was. “Using the cloning process that made me to sell overpriced origins, limbs, and medicine. Not that I care about the ethics of that, but it’s the waste I hate. They dump their leftovers instead of burning them, it’s disgusting. It's about once a month Orthrus is called to look into the discovery of a pile of body parts by some sanitation worker.”

That sounded disturbing. “And Orthrus can't just get them to stop?” I asked.

Tamboril shook her head. “The corporations made sure they are as entrenched as they could be within Orthrus. Even if we find that some body parts is not from a registered clone, no pony is willing to call them out for their sick and twisted fetishes. And if Orthrus did go after them, it would be at the risk of crippling the partnerships of our organizations.”

“Damned if you do, damned if you don't, I guess.” Whatever it was that New Gen does in their off hours, I didn't want to know. That being said, it seemed that Tamboril took it a bit personally. “So how long do I need to stay here?”

She looked back at Red and the other's. “Just wait until they start the demonstration, then we can leave. Some of the corporate leaders want to meat you, and it would be impolite if you leave before then.”

I looked back, eyeing the two griffins. “I’m taking the bird cats with us, it will be less suspicious if I leave as a group.”

Tamboril nodded. “That's fine, but why the griffins?”

I looked away, a slight feeling of shame falling on me. “They wanted to see a place where they can get quality guns, and I at least owe it to Flugelhorn after...” If it was not for me, my sister would likely be here to return to him. “Anyway, from what I've seen, the griffins use their talons to fire their guns, so having them order new guns from Cornet would at least give them a head start in a new market.”

My face was forcibly pulled to look at Tamboril, she looking me in the eyes. “Don't fucking blame yourself, not when I was supposed to be her partner. When… it’s all been my fault.” She hissed quietly, quickly looked around, and tapped at her pipbuck. “Good, no bugs here. Makes sense with all the shit they get up to in this place.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

Tamboril signs. “I'm only going to tell you this because because my memory of it will be released later, so keep your emotions neutral. You understand?” I nodded. “Then I'll make it quick. It's Orthrus’ fault that Harp even left her home in the first place using a strategy I thought up, and delivered to the council myself. The idea was to secure further peace with the Orphic kingdom by taking the mirage pony princess into our care, and using her to suppress any rebellions in exchange for the kingdom’s corporation.” She looked away for a moment, her stoic demeanor dropping for a moment, looking like she was about to cry. “But in reality, I just wanted to see council representative Phorminx smile. I owed the old stallion that much, and just thought… thought that if I got his daughter to him, then maybe he'd look at me more then just an agent.”

I only felt more confused. “How?”

Tamboril sighed again before regaining her composer. “Not as complex as you might think. We already knew about the tension between Harp and her siblings, so we helped spread a few rumors, and supported a few ‘adventure tours’ and then waited. If any of the royals were going to get rid of Harp, they were going to do it as far from their kingdom as possible. I was even the one to suggest using you for the initial recovery, knowing that Rototom wanted an opportunity to get you in the specter corps.”

A feeling of anger build up in me, but it was quickly suppressed. So everything was all because of her. All of this, all the death and pain, because she wanted to let Harp see her dad. The me that is Vibraphone was too weak to rage, and the rest that was Cold Iron was more focused on the task at hoof. “And I'm betting Naqara knew about this from the start?”

“Naturally.” She nodded. “The bitch is too sharp for her own good. I expect she will be sending me away once this mess has been started. Make trouble elsewhere.”

This time I sighed. “What's done is done, all that matters now is the mission.”

Tamboril tapped at her pipbuck once more. “True, we can regret our actions only after the job’s done. I'll let the staff know that you and the griffins will be visiting Cornetts Guns and Knives, Orthrus will cover up to two weapons for each of you.” She tapped on her pipbuck again. “There, now the other guests are arriving, try to not cause a scene.”

_______________________________________

Time quickly passed as more Trade Union ponies arrived. This time not in their stiff tailored suits, but in lavish and luxurious outfits, flaunting their wealth. Red was clearly in her element here, more easily navigating through the ponies here then at Orthrus dinner party. I could only guess it had to do with how corrupt every pony here likely was, and without the watchful eyes of Orthrus, they would let their mask slip.

I mingled a little, but found most of what the ponies have to say to be just pointless drivel. Lots of it was subital boasting about how rich they were, some being gossip about Orthrus, and one pony made a blatant sexual pass at me. It was right about then the demonstration started, a transplant of a new leg, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Red gave me a nod as I rounded up the two griffins and met Tamboril at the door. There, two Orthrus commandos waited for us outside the door to escorted us out. It was annoying to need escorts, but I understood that just letting me go off on my own would be suspicious.

It didn't take long to arrive at Cornets shop, the outside of the shop looking no different than from when I was last here. But looking at it gave me a pinch of guilt, as I was going in to be the bearer of bad news. Stepping inside, I was surprised to see Kantele at the reception desk. The heiress to Ironshod Firearms still sporting a scare on her face from where Theremin kicked her, but all together looking much better.

She looked at us, then down at a peace of paper before addressing us. “H… Hello to C… Cornets Guns and Knives. Were currently n… not taking any orders… orders at the moment.” It was good to see her slowly recovering, but still heartbreaking to see how one kick had don so much damage.

Tamboril waved at the two commandos, and the took up a position at the front door. She then trotted up to Kantele with a soft smile on her face. “We have an appointment with the owner of this workshop, so could you be a dear and call Cornet for us?”

Kantele nodded, and pressed a button at her desk, making a loud buzzing sound. With in a minute, Flugelhorn trotted out, dressed in a grease coveted gray jumpsuit. “If this is another solicitor, I will beat them… Oh, Tamboril!” The stallion wiped off his hooves, only smearing the grease that stuck to his fur. “You did send a message that you were coming over.” He looked passed the specter, and took a quick glance at me, and the two griffins. “Come in, all of you, we can talk at the back.”

We followed Flugelhorn into the very busy workshop, ponies manning large machines, constructing the Lelatos Mk.2 rifles. “I see that the contract with Orthrus is keeping you busy.” Tamboril commented.

He nodded “We've had to higher three new gunsmiths just to keep up with production quotas. I don't know what you ponies in Orthrus are planning seeing as the lelatos won’t be a good fit for military use. And with the quantity they ordered, I’m not sure what else Orthrus could have in mind for them.”

Tamboril trotted up next to Flugelhorn. “Let's just say that were making an investment into a future project. But on a related note, how’s the work on the railgun coming?”

Flugelhorn groaned, “As well as any attempt to shrink down and simplify high tech weaponry. The problem is still the battery pack. It doesn't matter if we can get the gun down the size of an SMG, when the battery ways more of a problem than the gun. Were testing out a few ideas, but none of them are cheap, sustainable, or low maintenance.”

We entered the back of the workshop, the place was a mess of gun parts and tools. At a desk sat Cornet, also wearing a grease covered gray jumpsuit. Covering the wall in front of her was gun schematics for a design of weapon I had never seen before.

Flugelhorn turn around to look at us. “Mother will be with us shortly, but until then, I'd like to know more about these new clients you’ve brought.”

I looked back at the two griffins, Headsail and Staysail looking somewhat impressed by the workshop. “You two wanted some new guns right?”

The two looked at eachother and shugged, Headsail ancering. “Ya, but all ya got is pony guns.”

Staysail wiggled her claws. “We ain't shooting with or beaks, we need claw grip.”

“There's quite a few creatures on the ship that can use their limbs to hold objects, and we were wondering if you could make some guns for them?” I spoke up, which got Cornet’s attention.

“Claw grip!?” Cornet shouted as she pushed herself off her desk, and trotted over to us. She looked at us, half stunned and half excited. “Well I'll be damned, the DJ had been talking about griffins, but I didn't think I'd ever see any, not here at least!” Trotted right up to Staysail, she took one of the griffins claws into her hooves. “I see, I see. That makes sense to why all the early equestrian arms were so unbalanced.” She let Staysail go, and jumped back to her desk, opening up the drawers.

“Please excuse mother,” Flugelhorn sighed. “she's been taking her medication at half dose in hopes it will help inspire her when it’s not good to ignore the problems that come with it!”

Right, Cornet is bipolar. “Then do make sure she takes the proper dose when the downswing comes.” Tamboril said coldly, and Flugelhorn nodded in return.

“Here it is!” Cornet shouted again as she tossed an old book onto to floor in front of us. She opened it up, showing off a collection of photos of what could be best considered as ‘antique’ guns. Some of the photos were of just one gun, and the page next to it was of the same gun but dismantled. “The founder of this workshop was Musketball, an old coot even before the great war. He kept an extensive log on every gun he had made in his life, though he didn't write down their history.” She flipped to the beginning of the book, were three odd looking guns, some of which that didn't have a mouth bit, but instead a handle. “The earliest griffon guns in this record were pistols called the Mouser C97. and to my best guess, they might have been the first guns used in the great war. Well, at least by the griffins, as theirs no records of military pony guns that are older then the Mouser.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “So can you make one?”

Cornet shook her head “No way, I'd have to make one from scratch, and were too busy as it is. But we do have two mauller replicas the last master made when I was an apprentice. He wanted a challenge, and I kept them as trophies. But if you give me a week, then maybe I'll have time to…”

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Tamboril interrupted, “I have an Idea. If you could lend us one of those guns, then Orthrus could copy it. We understand your current workload requires a lot of focus, and would rather have you remain focused on your current task.”

“That's right, I still need to finish the type 50 for you folks. Just a moment.” Cornet scampered off to a side room, which was followed by the sound of her knocking over things. After a minute, she returned with the gun and a piece of paper stuffed in her mouth. Tamboril took both items, giving the paper an inquisitive look. “Here you go, also thought up a brilliant idea! It was for an energy gun I thought up, but could never dream of having the time or resources to make. If your ponies can make this energy cartridge, it might solve the battery problem.”

Tamboril nodded. “I can do that.”

Cornet smiled. “Good, then I'll get back to work.” With that she returned to her desk, and started scribbling on a piece of paper.

Flugelhorn trotted in front of us, giving a tired look. “If that's all, then perhaps it is time for you to go. As you can see, we are quite busy here.” His face then soffend. “Also, Tam, tell Rototom to stop by when you see her. Despite what I say, I do miss her.”

The feeling of guilt returned in an instant, harder than before.

“About Rototom...” Tamboril spoke as she looked over at me. I sighed and pulled out both my revolvers, passing them to Flugelhorn. Tamboril continued “Well, actually, both Echo sisters were... lost in the line of duty. I'm sorry, Flugel.”

Flugelhorn slowly took the revolvers and looked down at Solar Eclipse. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away, smearing grease on his face.

“I… i knew this was going to happen one day.” He forced out a laugh to try to hide his pain, but it was a paper thin mask he was trying to wear. “But Rototom would not settle down. She'd said her destiny was out there, not in some stupid workshop.”

“She never did like to stay in one place for too long.” Tamboril added.

Putting the revolvers down on a nearby table, Flugelhorn looked Tamboril in the eyes, a pained expression on his face. “Weren't you her partner? Why are you here, and not her?”

“The situation changed.” Tamboril growled, her glare causing Flugelhorn to freeze. “It just kept getting more and more out of control, and…” She then looked away, and sighed. “I did my best, but I… I was too late. If I could, I’d trade...”

“Really, that's all you have to say?” Flugelhorn hissed, then sighed as he turned away from us. “Sorry, but you knew her better than I did, and now your here telling me that I will never see her again.” He shook his head, and stomped on the floor. “Just go. I need time to take this all in. And keep the guns, I don't know what happened to them, but they feel wrong now.” Flugelhorn trotted off, disappearing behind a corner.

I looked at Tamboril as she wiped a tear from her eye. “It's not going to get easier is it?”

I shook my head as I picked up my revolvers and returned them to their holsters. “I don't think so, but when I think about it, it feels like a needle has pierced my heart. Even now, when I'm barely myself anymore.”

“It might be just me, but… I think there's more of Vibraphone still in you then you think. But enough of that, it's time we made our last stop.” Tamboril sighed, put on a stoic face, and turned around to looking at the two griffins, whom were messing with some gun parts. “Right, now that we know that we can make a few guns for those like you in the fleet as a token of goodwill, why don't we do something less business related. There’s a club in this station, Club Three Dog, that should be open at this time, and the drinks are fairly cheap. That is, if your interested?”

Headsail put down the gun part she had been looking at and nodded. “Ya, I can go for some grog.”

Staysail slapped her sister on the back. “Fuck ya, lets get drunk!”

If anything, I was a glad that the two griffins were so easy going, making them good cover. Though I was unsure how I was to slip away at the club, more so if it wasn’t at peak hours with a crowd to get lost in. But then again, where there's a will, there's a way.

___________________________________________

The last two times I had been here, things didn't go so well. But as others say, third time's the charm, right? Club Three Dog was only mildly busy, as many ponies were still at work around this time of day. The whole place still smelled of bleach and alcohol, and the music, though loud, was of a more tame beat then normally played on the radio.

Tamboril passed a pouch of bits to the two griffins, and without needing to be told twice, they ran off to the bar. She then hooved me three bits, Trade Union standard coins, each worth five Orthrus standard coins. “Go and relax.”

I looked at the coins, and then up at Tamboril. “Well if you want me to buy a whole bottle or three of topshelf shit, then whatever.” I shoved the coins into a pocket. “You want anything?”

“Order an alicorn prince for me. It's a bitter and sour drink, but in times like this, it's what might hit the spot.” Tamboril then trotted away, taking a seat at a lonely table.

I had a good feeling that this was meant to be a secret message, so I joined the two griffins at the bar, they had a bottle of rum, and a line of shot glasses. “Barkeep, I'll have one daiquiri, and one Alicorn Prince.”

The barkeep raised an eyebrow at me. “Anything else?”

I placed the three bits on the table, well over the price of two drinks. “Just that.”

“It'll be one moment ma’am.” The barkeep took all three coins, and ducked down under the bar. After a short moment the barkeep returns with a glass, and the ingredients for a daiquiri, but no change for the coins I gave, or anything for another drink. The barkeep acted like nothing was wrong as they made my drink, and in return I didn't say anything about it as I took the drink. At least it’s not my money.

The daiquiri itself was far from the best I've had, but then ponies don't come here for the drinks. The music faded out, and the lights focused on a small stage, where two familiar ponies, and three I didn't recognize, stood.

One of them was Sweet, rocking a torn up and studded denim dress. Next to her was Guitar Strings, still the dusty gray stallion with the dark brown wild mane I remembered. He had a very old, and very cared for acoustic guitar, the one Sweets mother use to own. On its front, in fancy gold inlay was the word ‘KING’.

The other three ponies that I didn’t recognize looked like they needed a wash. Not just them, but their instruments as well. There was a drum set made of rusty barrels, what looked like a keyboard piano made from other assorted keyboard pianos, and what I guessed was an electric bass guitar made out of scrap metal.

“Hello everypony here in our hole in the ground we call home!” DJ Cerberus's voice blasted over the speakers. “Sorry I couldn't be at the club myself, but don't think I've abandoned you, I'll be back. In the meantime I have scheduled a few talents to feed your souls. Today we have some ponies I picked up from Caron's Stop. Ya, ya, I know, but trust me, they’re legit, so be nice!”

The speakers went silent, leaving all attention on the band on stage. Sweet stepped up to a microphone on the stage, taking a deep breath. Before she could speak, a pony down on the bar flore shouted. “How much for the stallion!”

Sweet sighed, and pulled the microphone close. “Before any pony says any more stupid shit, I have two questions for you all. One, have you killed anypony, and if yes, how many?” The heckler froze in place, and after a moment, Sweet relaxed. “Well I doubt any of us is here to see who has the biggest cunt, so let’s get on with the first song!”

The band started hard into their music, and though they were using junk, it sounded surprisingly good. It sounded similar to the music bandits tended to like, but the addition of Guitar Strings playing created a feeling of duality to the music. The harshness of the junk instruments clashed with to a strong yet soft acoustic guitar. Then Sweet added her voice, humming at first, then a whispering that slowly grew louder.

“Miss Cold Iron, is it?” I almost jumped as a mare whispered in my ear. It was Xianzi Tuning, Shamisen’s sister, wearing a tight black dress that did so much to draw my eyes to the curves under the fabric. I nodded and sipped at my daiquiri. “Fantastic, now come with me, I'm sure you're eager to get to business.” She stretched a hoof out to me.

I closed my eyes for just a moment, taking in the music. I wanted to hear more, not that it was my kind of music, but simply just because it was Sweet who was singing. But I knew that it would not stop at one song, now like a siren leading me astray from my task. Or was it that maybe she was a beacon, showing me my last opportunity to turn back…

No, there was no going back, not as long as Phobetor was free. Opening my eyes I took Xianzi's hoof. “Then where t…”

____________________________________________

My stomach lurched as the feeling of falling back took me for a split second. The chattering of ponies, clinking of glass, and the music had all stopped, replaced by the humming of terminals. As my eyes adjusted to the more well lit room I was clearly teleported too, it… looked like the aitrum of a stable, but different, as though not made by Stable-Tec. Then it hit me as my eyes fell onto a large banner below were the overmeres window was. It was the image of a white, muscular male alicorn, and below the image was the words “Solaris: Try The Alternative.”

To say that I was surprised would have been an understatement. I knew that Solaris was a rival company to Stable-Tec, but I never heard about them building their own stables. And this atrium did look a lot like it belonged in a stable, though it did have the hallmarks of a Solarus construction. Such as the railings were made from flat and painted sheet metal, unlike the pipes Stable-Tec used, and the ceiling was a lot more rounded. Also the color theme was different, mainly being a dark gray on white, making everything feel more muted.

“Welcome to Sol Stable six!” Xianzi announced. “Can't even begin to to say how excited we were to hear about your interest in our services. Now miss Cold Iron, if you will follow me, I'll give you brief tour before we meet the boss.”

“Then lead on.” I said, figuring it would be best to play dumb. But I wondered how much did Orthrus know about this place. And if they knew it was here at all, why hadn't they taken it by now?

Xianzi smiled as she lifted up her hoof, as to present the room we were in. “Firstly, this is our entrance hall, using the best of the old world tech, we managed to replace the structural weakness that are doors with a simple teleportation pad, making the most secure stable ever constructed.”

That actually answered my first question, as well as why Orthrus probably didn’t know about any of this. But now I had even more questions. “That’s pretty advanced. How did you come to develop such technology without anyone on the islands knowing about it?” The havok that could be caused if Orthrus or goddesses forgive the Republic could cause if they got their hooves on things like that alone.

“Glad you asked.” She gave me a wink as she showed me a slightly bulky looking watch, then clapped her hooves. The lights dimmed, and from what was the overmare’s window, a light beamed out, and onto the white wall on the other side. A black and white projection began to play, it starting with the Solaris logo… right, it was not the overmare’s office, but a fucking projection room.

Drumming music began to play as the film started, and the voice of a stallion spoke up. “Welcome investor, to Sol Stable Six! The latest, and most advanced of our prototype stables developed here at Solaris. And with investments from ponies just like you, hopefully the first of many more to come!” A stallion walked into view, a tall white and gray pegasus in a sharp looking suit. “Hello, as you all know, my name is Rumble, CEO and founder of Solaris Inc., and I am here to show you why you should try the alternative.”

Rumble faded from the projection, as images of different wartime products popped onto the screen. A vacuum with a radio built into it, a cooking pot with attached timer, a kitchen knife that looked like it was glowing, and even the same strange watch that Xianzi had on.

Rumble's voice continued. “Solaris has provided Equestria with many unique products over the years, and now we have integrated many of them into this stable for maximum convenience. We have also installed an administrative and proprietary AI to manage the day to day tasks for the residents. We have also supplied the stable with a robobrain staff to conduct regular maintenance, freeing those inside from the menial tasks of keeping the stable running. What this all means is that inside Sol Stable Six, you will never need to lift a hoof again as you wait for the magical fallout to pass.”

As Rumble walked back onto the screen, Xianzi clapped her hooves again, turning off the projection, and turning on the lights. “The rest is just Rumble going on about how much better Solaris is then Stable-Tec, mostly useless information.” Xianzi said, sounding a bit board.

I felt a bit curious. “If this is Sol Stable Six, where are the other five?”

Xianzi sighed. “One, Two, and Three are somewhere on the mainland. Four is on the big island, and due to the cost cutting decision of being built in old lava tubes, got flooded with magma after the end of the great war caused the volcano to erupt. Lastly, five is on the valley island, and got taken over by the republic after their revolution.”

“I see.” I had a good feeling that I may have been to stable five during my unfortunate trip through the republic. “It's amazing that they had made such useful technologies, like that teleportation pad.”

A puff of laughter escaped Xianzi's mouth as she attempted to cover it with her hoof. “Sorry to laugh, but you must understand that most of what my ancestors made actually worked as intended.” I knew exactly what she was getting at, like the radio vacuum that somehow shot sonic blasts. Xianzi then showed me her watch again. “This here is the Solaris personal assistant watch, or the Sol Paw for short, which was obviously their answer to the pipbuck. It's an all in one micro terminal that can also record small bits of your memory as notes. It performs none of it’s functions well, but when used in the right way...” She tapped on the watch, and vanished, only to appear on the teleportation pad. She tapped her hoof on the pad. “This apparatus is called the memory projector, use it to play back your own recorded memories… but instead, it and the watch became part of a mark and return spell. Took a few sacrifices, but our techs got it to work without the pony losing a leg. A mixed blessing for those who didn’t have the leg to begin with.”

“And the other tech in that video?” I asked.

Xianzi scratched her chin for a moment. “Well the most famous was the the sonic blast vacuum with built in radio, which was a neat home defence device, but after a few lawsuits, required the consumer to obtain a special permit before you could buy one. They also made a self cooking, cooking pot, but that basically ended up as a self-setting time bomb. The M.o.M. squashed that due to concerns that it could be too easily used by zebra sympathisers. Solaris lastly also made the cosmic knife, a kitchen knife so sharp that it was too dangerous to us as a kitchen knife. Only took a few personal injury lawsuits to pull them off the shelves and to get both the M.W.T. and the M.o.A. interested in further use of the product.” She clapped her hooves again, and a door opened. “But enough about the past, I’ve got a tour to take you on that will show you the future!”

When we stepped out, we were greeted by a robobrain, who was cleaning the hallway. The thing was cordial, giving us a slight bow. “good day, ladies”

Xianzi bowed back. “and a good day to you.”

I didn't respond until we rounded a corner, leaving the robobrain out of sight. “A bit formal for a robot.” I commented.

She rolled her eye. “Make no mistake, they run this stable because they’re hard as fuck to kill . If the sindicate could, we would have purged those robots long ago.”

Right, don't fuck with the robots. “So what's next on this is tour?”

Xianzi smile. “Just follow me.” We trotted down the hallway, passing two more robobrains and ending at a shooting gallery. There, two mares were practicing their marksponyship. “Firstly, we actively train our own agents, mercenaries we can trust. And through a thorough vetting process, make sure they are the best of the best. In fact, the ones we employ are so effective that Orthrus has a designation specifically for them, what they call ‘shadow runners’. With our mercs, things like ethics are never a problem. All that matters to them is the contracts and the pay. No questions asked, and local laws be damned.”

I already knew that the shadow runner's were connected to the syndicate, but not this closely. I had always thought they were just criminal mercenaries that the syndicate used. While she might be upselling them, I had to consider that maybe I just hadn’t seen enough of them to understand just how things worked within the syndicate.

The next room looked like an oversized bakary, completely powered by mirage ponys. Xianzi continued, “We mirage ponies have the natural talent of producing magical energy, acting like self recharging spark batteries. A useful, if insulting use, but the metro only thrives because many of us have learned our place as pillars of this world.” The room had a stack of yellow bars, one of which she passed onto me. “Here we have a stockpile of hardtack, a survival bread that was made long before the great war, and today is our best export in the metro. It’s not a very popular product, but when your starving you tend to not care what your eating to survive.”

“Feels solid.” Choosing to not know what hardtack was, I bit down on the bar and found it resist my every attempt to eat it. Pulling it out of my muzzle, my teeth hadn’t done any damage to stone-like bread. “Tastes solid.”

“Should be. Packed in the right conditions, this shit can last for hundreds of years. And personally I have never seen one go bad.” She gave me a smirk. “Soak it in boiling water for a few minutes and you’ll have a meal with enough calories to keep a pony alive for days. So if you need food for your fleet, then fuck makinging a new plantation, we can produce ten years worth of hardtack in just a month.”

Though I still knew little about the fleet, I knew who would benefit on such condensed food. “I don't see the crew being happy with this, but it would be easy calories for the slaves, which in turn frees up more normal food for the crews.”

“Slaves…” Xianzi looked at me sideways as she took a moment to process that. “Right, lets go to our next room!” I followed her down the hall and to the next room, which for some reason, looked like a spa. “Here we can rub out all of your stress. From deep tissue massages, to hot rock treatments, all of your worries will be washed away!”

We continued down the hall, each room providing a service, but nothing that Orthrus couldn’t already do. Eventually we ended at the last room in the hallway, next to the door was a sign labed “Administrative AI Showroom.”

Entering the room, I found myself in what looked like an overmare’s office similar to the one in the R&D Stable, though with the same dark gray on white color scheme the rest of the stable here held. Along the walls were random items protected behind glass, such as a hoofball and jersey, a photo of a young colt with a dog, a signed poster of the wonderbolts, and two worn out pistols on a equally worn out battle saddle.

It was like some pony was displaying their life story, yet as I looked at it all, it just seemed like they could also have been props for some old applewood movie. I finally looked at the centerpiece of the room, a desk with a picture frame, a snowglobe, and an odd looking toaster connected by dozens of wires to a large terminal on the other side of the desk. Two robobrains flanked the large terminal, both armed with odd looking magical energy guns.

The terminal turned on, the screen crackling as it’s blue screen brightened up with a horizontal white line through the center. The speakers on the terminal crackle, and the white line on the screen wiggled. The AI spoke in a somewhat cheary tone, but it wasn’t in a language I recognized. One of the brain cases of the Robo brains lit up, it making a static sound as it gave a slight bow to me. “Good day miss Cold Iron. It’s rare that a [Translation error.] of my stature gets to speak to anyone new lately. My name is John Henry Eden, and word on the grapevine is that you wish to take the fight to the [Translation error.] … the Equalists as you call them. And of course, as a true patriot to the cause, and a capitalist myself, I would like to lend you my aid.”

____________________________________________

Footnote:

Quest Progress %50: Friends in the Shadows.