Gearing walks through the crowd of Freight Cars with his head low and keeping his cloak in between him and any wandering eyes. The surrounding chatter and excitement is unending as he continues on with his goal. It’s not the same volume of how it was during the fights. But it’s noticeably louder than they would otherwise be. Similar to a busy metropolitan cafeteria; a near incomprehensible din. All of them seem to be talking about the various fights, and some are talking about No Shoes in general.

Above it all, a mare’s voice screams and dwarfs the rest of the chatter, “You son of a bitch!”

The crowd’s volume drops noticeably as everyone turns to look in the direction of the commotion. But several, in the general area of the ruckus, let out a variety of sympathetic reactionary gushes as a loud meaty thwack echoes out.

“Ouu!”

“Fuck!”

“Daaaaaamn!”

A stallion voice comes out in a gargle, “It wasn’t ma- my fault!”

“You and your fucking Barnburner!” the same feminine voice bellows out. A few more smacks echo out before a gray and blue blur goes sailing, flying over the crowd at high speed. Everyone’s head follows, and watches, as the stallion slams into the metal cage of Junction Three’s fight pit before bouncing off and tumbling back to hoof level.

The crowd starts rapidly parting, and moving out of the way in a direct route towards Gearing. He stands there, eyes darting around, wondering what’s going on.

A moment later Glimmer, face twisted into a snarl with spatters of blood covering her, stomps through the crowd in the direction the buck had flew. She walks right by Gearing, not looking at him or anyone else, as she only has eyes for one individual.

Just after she’s passed, Silver Shoes hops to Gearing’s side and yells, “Whoa there! What’re you doin’?!”

Gearing glances at her sideways and points a hoof in Glimmer’s direction, though the crowd has already reformed behind her wake. “Wasn’t me!” Sable joins them and the three push their way through the crowd towards where Glimmer had gone. The other Freight Cars members, once they realize who is trying to get through, likewise step aside and let them pass.

As they are emerging from the crowd, Glimmer makes it within hoof reach of her target. Everyone else has circled around, but at a far respectable distance as they don’t want to be caught in her rampaging.

On the ground, and already coughing up both teeth and blood, Timer keeps trying to crawl away. Going so far as rolling over onto his back and pushing himself away with his hindlegs as he pleads his case.

“G- Glimmer! Wait! It… I didn’t mean for that to happen!” He hits the metal cage, looks back at it, then starts turning to follow its edge as he continues back peddling. “It’s not my fault! He wanted to fight before I even gave him that!”

Glimmer jumps at him, swinging wide with a right forehoof as she screams, “Bullshit!”

Timer ducks down and away from the strike, staring wide eyed at the deep dent she makes in the metal mesh behind him. But, as powerful as the strike was, it was only a feint. Glimmer brings up her hind legs in a near backflip and catches Timer in the jaw, with both hindhooves simultaneously, hard enough that he’s knocked up into a hindleg standing position.

After he’s up, his neck is encircled with a pink glow as Glimmer’s horn comes to life and she holds him up by choking him. She steps back as she glares at him and asks, “A fights a fight, but a Fillydelphia match!? Whose fucking idea was that? Damn sure not his. He’s not from around here!” She paces back and forth as she holds him there. “And why didn’t he tap out? Did you even tell him any of the rules?!”

Timer’s eyes bug out and he looks around a bit before he gives a nervous smile. “I… I think I … forgot…” His eyes bug out more as his throat gets squeezed more. He gurgles out. “You made me forget when you threw me off with your threats about my BarnBurner.”

His eyes go even wider as he quickly clamps his mouth shut. It didn’t take the darkening of her face for him to realize his mistake. He knew he’d screwed up the moment the words left his muzzle and he heard it himself.

“You’re blaming me for your fuck up?!” Glimmer growls. She hunkers down and prepares to pounce him. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

She starts upwards, jumping at him, but gets yanked back and down as a large train driver wheel drops down over her head and becomes an improvised yoke. She gets choked and held back mid pounce and swing. She spins around, directing her wrath towards whoever had the gall to interfere, and stops mid swing.

Her eyes go wide as she says softly, “Conductor…”

Conductor stands not far from her, holding the wheel aloft with her own levitation as she glares at her. The crowd has moved back even further to give them room. Conductor holds her pipe with her right hoof and lets out a long stream of smoke from her nostrils before she growls at Glimmer, “If you’re gonna fight… save it for the ring… I’m not going to have a bunch of unorganized nonsense taking place in my station. We aren’t Wild Ones. You know that, Glimmer.”

Glimmer shifts around and screams out as she points a hoof back towards Timer. “One job. He has one fucking job here! And he fucked it up!” She turns and glares at Timer as she says, “If he’d not been high on that fucking BarnBurner of his, my sweetness would still be alive! He’d be fucked up and in need of treatment, but he’d still be alive!” She rears up on her hind legs, struggling against the wheel around her neck as she screams, “The bastard didn’t even tell him he could simply submit!”

Conductor looks over at Timer, who’s still being held up in a choking grasp by Glimmer despite getting partially choked and restrained herself. She takes a long pull from her pipe before she slowly releases the smoke up into the air above herself. Without so much as budging her gaze she yells out, “Pickles! Get your caboose over here!”

Ponies cram into each other sideways to make a channel and Pickles, the lounge bartender, comes running up through the crowd as fast as her hooves will carry her. She stops off to the side and looks up at Conductor. Her eyes betray her concern as she asks quickly, “Yes, Conductor?”

Conductor tilts her head as she looks at Timer. “Pickles, I know the match was thrown together quickly. Everyone was still excited from the last match… But… You were over there at the booth, right?”

“Yes, Conductor. I was.” Pickles nods quickly.

“Now, I couldn’t hear from where I was standing… I didn’t hear an introduction, though it’s not mandatory. I didn’t hear any hype building, again not mandatory…” She glances sideways at Pickles and asks, “Did you hear him go over the rules with anyone today?”

Pickles nods quickly again. “Yes, Conductor. I did.”

Glimmer turns and glares at Pickles, who cowers back while looking back and forth between Glimmer and Conductor. Glimmer gets her neck yanked more with the large train drive wheel for her troubles.

“Who, and when, Pickles.”

Pickles looks around, and doesn’t see the target to point at fast enough so she rambles off, “Timer went over the rules extensively with Iron Hoof. Made sure she knew she could tap out if she didn’t want to, or couldn’t go on. Made sure she turned over all of her equipment so it was an unarmed fight.” She shrugs. “He went down the entire pre-fight list.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, Conductor.”

“So not…” She scrunches her face then waves vaguely towards the cage area where Gauge’s smoking body still sits sizzling in hazardous chemicals.

“Gauge!” Glimmer screams as she turns towards Conductor. “His name’s Gauge!”

“Gauge,” Conductor says quietly as she looks at and nods towards Glimmer. She looks over at Pickles. “He say anything about the rules to Gauge? Did you hear him say anything?”

Pickles looks over at Timer then back at Conductor and gives a single hard shake of her head. “No, Conductor. I did not hear him say anything to the other fighter.”

“Gauge!” Glimmer bellows and stomps towards Pickles. Actually making the train’s drive wheel move despite the force it’s applying on her.

Pickles cowers back and hops away before she nods rapidly. “Gauge. He said nothing to Gauge about it.”

“You’re certain?” Conductor asks as she directs her attention back towards Timer.

Pickles nods quickly. “Yes, Conductor. I was there from when he first arrived, to when he headed straight to the arena gate.” She frowns and scrunches her nose as she shakes her head. “He farted in my face when he walked by… Hard to forget that… I’ll never get that smell out of my nose.”

Conductor nods. “Then… we do have a problem… because the fight was thrown together so quickly… he had no other opportunity to go over it.” She stares at Timer, whose lips are starting to turn blue from being slowly strangled. “Glimmer… let him go. I want to hear his side.”

Glimmer looks at her and frowns, but gives a respectful quick nod. The next moment her horn glow fades out, and likewise Timer’s neck stops getting constricted by the glow that vanishes from it. He falls down to the ground, instantly gasping and coughing as he reaches up and holds his throat with one hoof. He takes in a few breaths while face down and trying to pick himself up off the ground to look at Conductor.

A moment later he’s slammed back into the arena cage, with one of his hindhooves actually slipping through one of the holes and bending up and around. He lets out a scream as his knee bends awkwardly and the same pink glow returns to both his hoof and Glimmer’s horn as she scowls at him.

Conductor momentarily smirks as she finds the act amusing, as it’s both obedient yet helpful. For he can certainly talk now, once he stops screaming from the pain, but he definitely won’t be able to run while pinned like that.

“Timer…” Conductor calls him before she takes a long pull from her pipe. He looks up with just his eyes, wincing and doing his best not to cry out despite his knee being bent awkwardly around the metal of the fight cage. Once she has eye contact with him she asks, “Well, Timer? Did somepony throw a switch on me and have us going down the wrong track?”

Timer keeps his head bowed as he shakes his head and says softly, “No, Conductor.”

“What? I don’t think I heard that, speak up!” Conductor says before starting to take a slow pull from her pipe.

Timer squeezes his eyes tightly before yelling, “No, Conductor! They are right. I forgot to go over everything with him.”

Conductor watches him for a few moments, with silence all around them as she regards him. She lets the smoke pour out of her muzzle as she asks, “So you admit you derailed my nice orderly schedule?”

Timer nods weakly. “Yes, Conductor. I fucked up. I let myself get distracted.” He shakes his head and sighs. “There’s no excuse for it.”

“You’re damn right there’s no excuse!” Conductor snaps back as she glares at him. She taps the end of her pipe on her chin as she stares at him. “To keep things running smoothly, and on time, there has to be order. Everyone has a job. And you had a singular purpose. And failed. Horribly.”

Timer simply hangs his head and offers nothing more in his defense.

“You’ve left me in a very uncomfortable position here, Timer,” Conductor says in a low voice. Timer looks up at her and tilts his head, and she continues after succeeding in eye contact again, “You’re complete, and utter, failure to perform a departure list has resulted in a guest of the Freight Cars to lose their life… do you understand that?”

Timer’s eyes slowly grow wider as he coughs and sputters up blood around himself as he tries to comprehend the full extent of what’s taken place.

Conductor points her pipe at him and waves it around. “They are welcome to challenge. They are welcome to fight. And, if they should lose their life in the arena, it is unfortunate, but,” she shrugs, “Shit happens… You, however, deprived them of what may have prevented it from getting that far.” She looks around and says quieter, “I was wondering why he was climbing around the roof…though it wasn’t a horrible tactic.”

She shakes her head and looks at Timer. “Order has to be maintained… you understand that, right?” Timer nods his head, and lowers his gaze as he squeezes his eyes tight and bites his lip with what’s left of his teeth. “Other’s in my position would probably just throw you in the arena, and let Glimmer take care of you… or, hell, right here and now…” She takes a puff from her pipe then lets it out in a gush. “But that would be dishonoring and dirtying the entire spirit of the fight rings. It’s not an execution ground…”

There’s silence for a few moments before she says flatly, “Timer, give me your hat.” Timer’s head jumps up to look at her and his jaw drops open as he stares at her in disbelief. “You heard me,” she says while staring at him.

He nods, takes off his conductor’s hat, and stares at it for a moment. He lets out a sigh, and sniffles, before using his own levitation field to respectfully float it over to Conductor. Regardless of what is to come, he wasn’t going to simply throw it away.

“Pickles… Come here,” Conductor says as she takes the hat from the air with a fetlock, and floats her pipe with her own levitation field. Pickles quickly hops over in front of her and looks around wide eyed as her eyes jump to the secondary hat. Conductor looks over at Timer and says flatly, “Timer, you’ve failed to keep to your appointed rounds. And can no longer be trusted to do that job.” She looks down at Pickles and says, “Pickles… you’re now Keeper of the Watch. You’re singular duty will be to maintain the honor of the fight pits, and ensure that any and all fights are up to standard. It’s a big responsibility. Are you up for it?”

Pickles stares at her with her mouth agape, then nods quickly. “Yes, Conductor. I am!”

Conductor floats off Pickles’ conductor’s hat, and then carefully replaces it with the hat that had previously been worn by Timer. “Very well. Do me proud, Pickles.” She leans over, and wraps a foreleg around her, giving her a warm hug before pulling back and smiling at her.

Pickles looks around and beams with pride and excitement as she reaches up and feels her new hat. She asks softly, “Is there anything you would like me to do?”

Conductor smirks at her and asks as she tilts her head. “What do you think you should be doing?”

Pickles looks around then says softly, “I think… Junction Three needs to be cleaned and reset… and the fallen need to be properly tended to with the respect they deserve…”

Conductor grins widely and nods approvingly. “Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“May I be excused to tend to my duties?” Pickles asks with a massive grin.

Conductor nods and waves her away. “We’re done here. Go ahead.” Pickles turns and runs through the crowd, giddy to get started with her new position. Conductor turns and stares at the hat she’d removed from Pickles that’s floating in front of her.

Timer’s head dips down, and his eyes go wide as a familiar pressure returns to his head. He looks up with his eyes and watches as Pickles’ old hat is crammed down onto his brow. His mouth hangs open limply, drooling blood, as he looks up and stares at the brim and tries to follow where this is leading.

The hats are, in their very essence, identical. There is no difference between the two. They are the same general One-Size-Fits-All hat after all. Mass produced centuries before. But the exchange is symbolic. Yet not missed by a single member of the Freight Cars. His once prestigious position has been taken from him and passed on to someone else. Yet his personal fate is only partially decided.

“Timer,” Conductor says and draws his attention to her. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m not even going to banish you. What you’ve done.” She shakes her head. “It’s hard to find a proper punishment for.” She shrugs. “Death would be too easy. And the dead can’t redeem themselves… so you may stay. And do what it takes to regain the trust that you’ve so carelessly thrown away.” She lets out a sigh and looks around. “I’m not even going to tell you to stop drinking…” She points her pipe at him. “I’ll let you have that bit of rope to hang yourself with. An active temptation that you’re going to have to fight yourself over… Because if you fuck up again… I’m going to let Glimmer have her wish. And it won’t be in the ring.”

Glimmer scowls and snorts as she stares at Timer and digs her hooves into the ground. But she doesn’t try to move any more.

The rest of the present Freight Cars members stare on in stunned disbelief. For them, this is mind-boggling. It’s inconceivable. For a group so focused on personal glory and honor, this level of shame being forced upon Timer is unbearable. There’s no glory to be had in this. And he’s going to have to go through his life bearing the shame and guilt until he either dies or finds some way to redeem himself. The latter of which being practically impossible to accomplish.

Conductor looks around as she takes a puff from her pipe. “But, just so we’re perfectly clear. I’m not letting you off easy.”

Timer nods and hangs his head again.

“Glimmer,” Conductor begins, and Glimmer directs her attention back towards Conductor. “I’m going to give you five minutes. I know that’s far more than you’d typically need… but remember what I just said… I don’t want him dead. You’re not allowed to kill him. Understand? Break his legs. Throw him around.” She waves a forehoof dismissively. “Whatever. But he’s not allowed to die. So I’m going to expect you to be able to throw the brakes, and get him the treatment he’s going to need once you’re done.”

Timer jerks his head up and his lower lip quivers as he starts shaking lightly. His eyes drift over to Glimmer’s and all he sees is a mask of malice looking back at him.

Conductor pulls out a golden pocket watch and looks at it as she says, “You got five minutes, starting… now…” She pulls the train engine drive wheel up and off of Glimmer, releasing her from the improvised yoke as she stands there slowly puffing on her pipe.

Glimmer slowly turns her head to look at Conductor. They stare at each other for a few moments, with the watch floating and ticking away near Conductor’s face. Conductor nods towards Timer and says around the pipe, “Well… Time’s a ticking, you got a schedule to keep.”

Glimmer grits her teeth and snorts through her teeth as she says, “I… I can’t, Conductor.”

Everyone turns to look at her in confusion, even Timer.

Conductor nods again and waves towards Timer. “Yes you can. I’ll allow it this once.”

Glimmer shakes her head and tears pop up on the edge of her eyes. “I’ll kill him, Conductor…” She shakes her head again, “I’ll really kill him.”

Conductor puffs on her pipe as she regards her. “And I don’t want him to die, or he can’t be properly punished…”

Glimmer nods and looks down as she starts clenching her teeth even more. “I know… I know…”

Conductor puffs on her pipe a few times before asking, “So… what are you going to do then?”

Glimmer looks over at Timer again and shakes her head. “I can’t… I’ll end up killing him even if I’m trying not to… I’m so angry…” She sniffles and lowers her head as she clenches her teeth so hard they threaten to shatter. “I can’t…” She turns and starts walking away, releasing Timer’s hoof form her magical grip as she walks through a part that forms in the crowd for her.

They all watch her walk away, in silence and shock. Timer especially. And, after she’s made it out of sight, everyone else turns to Conductor for further directions.

No one moves. No one says anything. They stand in silence as Conductor simply stands there puffing on her pipe.

At exactly five minutes, on the dot, Conductor closes the pocket watch’s facing and stows it back in its dedicated pocket in her vest as she says around her pipe, “Time’s up…”

Everyone looks around and are not sure what to say or do. Especially Timer.

Conductor pulls out her pipe with a fetlock and points it at Timer. “Did you see that, Timer?”

Timer looks back and forth, but doesn’t say anything.

Seemingly missing the point, Conductor continues, “That’s what being responsible looks like… She wanted you. She wanted you bad. But, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from killing you. She knew doing so would go against my wishes… so… she denied herself any pleasure it would bring, at all, just to keep from screwing up…” She puts her pipe in her mouth and puffs on it as she mutters around it, “You could learn a lot from Glimmer.”

She turns and starts walking away and the rest of the crowd begins slowly dispersing, leaving Timer to sort himself out.

“That was intense,” Nahlah comments and announces her presence behind Gearing.

Gearing nods. “It was something… that’s for sure.”

No Shoes walks over from the side, and comments while looking at Timer, “That was unexpected… I don’t know why Glimmer didn’t just challenge him to the ring. Lord knows she needs quite a few more to even think about making it into the Reapers.”

Silver Shoes smirks, then nods towards him. “Speaking of which, congrats… When are you heading to the arena?”

“Thanks!” No Shoes turns to her and grins. “We’ll be heading out in the morning.” He grins even wider as he says, “I’m going with Big Daddy! Can you believe it!?” His smile fades a bit as he adds, “Wasn’t who I was expecting to fight though… too bad.” He glances over at Gearing and frowns.

“What a tragedy,” Gearing mutters.

No Shoes scowls then looks between them. “That guy had one of those giant bracelets… Where’s it at?”

“You mean his PipBuck?” Nahlah asks as she raises an eyebrow.

No Shoes waves a hoof dismissively. “Yeah. Whatever it’s called. Where is it?”

“Why?” Gearing asks as he glares out at No Shoes with his one eye from under the cloak’s lip.

No Shoes sits down as he waves the same hoof and looks at Gearing like he’s stupid. “Because I want it, duh.” He looks around between them and adds, “I need some kind of trophy for the win that got me into the Reapers. And that twerp’s bracelet will do just fine.”

“Not happening,” Gearing says flatly.

No Shoes stares at him and smirks as he says, “Why? I beat him. I even killed him. His shit’s mine.”

“Well, as they used to say back home… ‘Possession’s Nine-tenths of the law’… He didn’t have it on him. And it wasn’t his in the first place. So you’re not getting it,” Gearing says flatly as he continues peeking out at No Shoes.

“Well I want it,” No Shoes says as he folds his forelegs in front of his chest and snorts.

“How’s it feel to want,” Nahlah says from behind Gearing before she blows a raspberry at No Shoes.

No Shoes looks at her and grins. “If you wanna put that tongue to work, I have a few ideas.” In a colossally unnecessary move he points down with both forehooves and winks at her.

Nahlah, to her credit, actually gags involuntarily at the mere thought of it.

No Shoes nods towards her, temporarily ignoring Gearing. “You got it?”

Gearing sways to the side, blocking his view with his cloaked form, as he says flatly, “No, I have it.”

No Shoes looks at him and beckons with a forehoof. “Okay, cough it up then.”

“No.”

No Shoes blinks a few times. Then looks around as the word seems to genuinely confuse him. “‘No’? You can’t say ‘No’ to me…”

“Well apparently I did. So I can, and I will,” Gearing replies.

“You want this to turn nasty?” No Shoes asks with a laugh.

“I suppose that’s up to you. Isn’t it?” Gearing retorts. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

No Shoes waves his forehoof around and rolls his eyes. “I want what’s mine… And that trophy, is mine.”

“I can’t let you have it,” Gearing repeats.

No Shoes looks at him for a few moments, and a grin slowly grows across his muzzle before he says, “Fine… I challenge you for it…”

“Uh oh,” Silver Shoes says as her eyes go wide.

“I- I’m going to go get Conductor,” Orchid says quickly before running off.

No Shoes waves her away and doesn’t even look at her as he keeps his focus on Gearing. “Go ahead. Won’t change my mind.”

Gearing rolls his eyes. “Damn, you all are fixated on bullshit, aren’t ya? I told you before, I don’t want any part of your glory fighting bullshit.”

No Shoes extends a forehoof and says flatly, “Then give it here.”

“You can fuck off with that too,” Gearing retorts.

Silver Shoes turns sideways and frowns as she says to Gearing quietly, “That’s probably not an option…”

Gearing looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “The hell?”

Silver Shoes nods towards No Shoes. “He’s a full fledged Reaper now…”

Gearing stares at her for a few moments. Both Silver Shoes and No Shoes stare at him. Nothing else is said until Gearing motions with a hoof for her to continue as he says, “And your point is…?”

They both stare at Gearing wide eyed as they can’t believe he’d just said that.

“Stable pony?” Silver Shoes asks softly.

Gearing shrugs then nods as he says, “You could say that…”

“Oh fuck…” Silver Shoes groans as she slaps a hoof over her face. She points the hoof at No Shoes as she says, “Part of being a Reaper is the right to issue a formal challenge to others for position or property…”

“What about it? I’m not a Reaper,” Gearing replies as he points at himself.

Silver Shoes shakes her hoof at No Shoes. “But he is. And you’re choice is either fight for it, or hand it over.”

“Aaaand… what if I don’t want to do either?” Gearing asks as he narrows his one unbandaged eye.

“Short answer? Basically death… Either give it up, fight him for it, or if you try and run, you’ll have everyone else after you… and, given Iron Hoof’s getting in, she’ll probably be expected to take part as well… it’s called a stomp.”

Gearing narrows his eyes, “So they really are nothing but raiders with a more fancy reputation…?”

“Don’t fucking say that!” Silver Shoes hisses. “It’s bad enough as it is and, given the connections, the first ones after you will most likely be every Freight Car around you.” She nods off towards where Orchid had gone. “That’s why Orchid went to get the Conductor… you’re all guests, but Reaper rules trump that I’m pretty sure.”

Gearing looks over at No Shoes and asks in a grumbling voice, “You’re really willing to go that far over something you don’t really care about except as a trophy?”

“I’m a Reaper now,” No Shoes says flatly with a grin.

Pickles comes running up panting. She looks between them and asks in between cycles of sucking in air, “What’s this about a challenge?”

No Shoes looks at her and points at Gearing. “I’m officially challenging him for the bracelet the guy I beat was wearing.”

Silver Shoes looks at Pickles and asks softly, “What did Conductor say?”

Pickles looks at her and rolls her eyes. “What do you think she said?” She looks at Gearing and nods towards No Shoes. “Challenges stand, even among guests.”

Gearing narrows his eyes as he asks with a huff, “So I get robbed, and I have no say in the matter? And even if I win the challenge, I get nothing but to keep my own property? Am I hearing this correctly?”

Pickles shakes her head. “That’s not true. As part of the challenge, you can name your own condition if you win. Something of his.”

Gearing turns his head to look at her, and asks softly, “So I can make whatever condition I would like if I win?”

Pickles bobs her head around. “For a challenge of property? Pretty much.”

Gearing turns to look at No Shoes and regards him as he thinks it over.

After a few moments Pickles asks, “Well? What is your decision? Are you going to relinquish the item, or are you going to accept the challenge?”

“Your life,” Gearing says flatly.

They all blink and shake their heads before No Shoes asks with a grin, “The hell?”

“That’s my condition,” Gearing replies. “You want to take this from me. Then I’m going to take your life.”

Silver Shoes eyes go wide, and No Shoes actually starts laughing.

Pickles shakes her head. “This isn’t a fight to the death. It’s a fight to knock out or submission.”

Gearing looks at Pickles. “I don’t care. That’s my condition.” He looks at No Shoes. “Want to try that bullshit with me. Fine. The price is his life. You just said I could name anything of his I wanted to take…”

Silver Shoes steps up and waves around, trying to calm everything down. “Whoa! Gearing! It’s not that big of a deal!”

Gearing looks at her for a moment as he says, “Yes. It is.” He turns back to looking at No Shoes as he continues, “The dumb ass doesn’t even know what it is. But a PipBuck has an enormous amount of information in it. If someone even halfway decent gets their hooves on it, they’ll be able to track its point of origin. They’ll be able to find everything it’s been connected to. And could, potentially, use it to back trace where we’d come from.” He turns to look at Silver Shoes. “Which means they could find our home.”

He points a hoof at No Shoes without even looking at him. “Which makes him a threat to every foal we have. Our very lives will be at risk of being destroyed… so… given the potential loss… this isn’t even an equal wager. He’s not offering up enough.”

No Shoes grins as his eyes light up. “It can do all that?! It’s even more valuable than I thought!”

Pickles rubs on her chin as she grumbles and tries to think of what to do or say.

“Sure, whatever,” No Shoes says with a grin. “He’s just trying to scare me off from it… But it’s not going to work.” He leans towards Gearing and sneers. “I’ve been wanting to fight you since you walked into the lounge… You’re not getting out of this.”

“I’m not trying to buy the pot with an outlandish bet. I’m serious. Is there no way I can convince you to change your mind?” Gearing asks.

“None,” No shoes says with the same sneer.

“You’re funeral.”

Pickles nods then starts trotting away. “Meet at Junction One. We’ll hold the fight there. I’ll go get everything ready.”

No Shoes grins and waves with a forehoof as he says, “I’ll see you soon…” Then gets up and walks off through the crowd that had started gathering around again to watch the exchange.

Silver Shoes watches him go, then turns back to Gearing. “Are you really going through with this?”

Gearing turns his head to look at her. “Not like you’re giving me much of a choice here in the matter.”

“But you’re not really going to just-”

“Kill him?” Gearing cuts her off. She nods. “It’s his choice. He’s the one pushing for it. So I don’t want to hear one fucking thing about anyone crying fowl afterwards. Unlike Gauge, he knows the stakes full well. And I’m not holding back. At all.” He shakes his head. “The stakes are too high.”

By the time they get back to Junction One, there’s already a crowd growing in the seating around the elevated platform. And, unlike previously, the challenger is already inside of the cage. No Shoes trots around the inside of the domed fight arena. He waves and talks with others randomly outside of the metal mesh as he excitedly waits for the fight to start.

As they are walking around towards the entry gate, Silver Shoes asks, “I get wanting to protect your home, but why be so set on killing him? Just winning would do the same thing, and you could get something else to boot if you won.”

Gearing shakes his head. “You don’t understand at all… It’s not just about him… or today… or even tomorrow.” He turns and looks at her. “It’s about the future… It’s about an infinity of days, moves, and decisions.” He points towards the cage where No Shoes trots around soaking up the admiration. “The best way to not get hit in a fight, is not to fight in the first place. If I simply beat him… he could try again later… or someone else might…” Gearing shakes his head. “But I might be able to convince everyone else that doing so is a bad idea… and prevent them from even trying later.” He continues towards the door as he grumbles. “That way I can win battles, without even fighting them… simply by setting a high cost precedent. Otherwise the shit’ll never end.” He growls and mutters quietly, “I fucking hate bullies…”

Gearing walks near a set of shipping containers and starts taking off all of his harnesses and bags. The first item he takes off is his PipBuck, which he does so under the cover of his cloak and makes sure no one can see its unique attachment method. He puts it into Sable’s bag and leans in towards her ear as he whispers, “No one gets this… If you have to… destroy it. It’s going to take your laser to do a proper job. Regardless of what happens: don’t let this fall into anyone else’s hooves… understand?” Sable looks at him sideways and nods lightly.

Pickles trots up with a clipboard and looks Gearing over as she smiles. “Ah, already know a bit about the process, huh? Well… just to make sure you understand everything… No weapons or armor are to be taken inside with you. You can use whatever you find in the arena, but nothing can be taken in. The fight will continue until one fighter is unable to fight, through unconsciousness or death, or if they submit. You can give up by either yelling out that fact, or by beating on some object three times.” She reaches up and gives three quick raps on the shipping container. “Like that. And we’ll call an end to the fight. But, in doing so you’ll be declaring the other individual the winner and they will be entitled to their requested stake.” She looks him over and asks softer, “That all make sense?”

Gearing nods. “Yeah. I get it.”

“You know how to submit?”

“Tap out, but I’m not going to be doing that.”

Pickles grins as she looks at her clipboard. “Good to see you’ve got a fighting spirit. That’ll go far with the crowd. Keys the crowd have are color coded. Each one matches different sets of boxes. You can use whatever is in the boxes.”

Gearing waves it away. “I don’t care about that.”

Pickles looks up at him and frowns. “It’s not a good idea to ignore them. Some of them have some real advantages in them.” Gearing waves her off, and her eyes go wide as she sees him take his cloak off. She lowers the clipboard and points at him. “Excuse me, but you’re going to have to take your armor off as well.

Gearing looks over at her and smirks, “It’s not armor.” He fans out his wings, high in the air, and then lowers them to the perfect angle to redirect the rays from the surrounding electric lights. “Suits of armor can’t make you fly.”

Sable looks at Pickles and nods as she says, “My darling Gearing is wearing no armor. The only thing he is wearing is his bandages.”

Pickles frowns as she looks him over and tries to figure out how this fits into their nice neat rule set.

“Awww just let him have his bullshit armor. I don’t care,” No Shoes yells from the inside of the cage. They all look over at him and he grins back as he waves it away dismissively with a hoof. “I’m going to be fighting Steel Rangers soon enough. I could use some practice beating their metal ass down.”

Pickles looks back over to Gearing and says quietly, “Well… I suppose as long as he’s okay with it…”

Gearing shakes his head. “It’s my body, not a suit of armor. There’s nothing to take off.”

“And this is my Gearing’s booty!” Sable says with a giggle as she uses a cable to grope Gearing’s flank.

Gearing’s ear starts whistling as he whips his head back around. “Sable! This isn’t the time for that!”

Silver Shoes snickers then says with a hoof to her muzzle as she gives a conspiratory side glance to Sable, “I see what you mean about him ‘not saying no’.”

Gearing lowers his head and mumbles as his ears whistle even louder.

Sable steps up and kisses him on his cheek as she says, “Be careful, my love.”

Pickles’ jaw hangs open as she watches this, but she’s also apparently been given enough evidence to prove their case as she tucks the clipboard to her side. “If there’s nothing else you need explained, we’ll begin in a few moments.” Gearing shakes his head. “Fight will start at the ringing of the bell.” Gearing waves her off as he starts walking towards the door.

“Why’s your head down? Already regretting the decision?” No Shoes gloats from the other side of the door.

Gearing looks up at him through his one eye and growls. “You can end this whenever you want. It would, really be in your best interest to end it. Before I do.”

No Shoes waves it away, and laughs as he’s directed to walk to the other side of the arena by the other fight pit assistants. After he’s on the other side, lounging with his back against the far fencing, Gearing is ushered inside and told to stay near the gate.

Inside they stare at each other across the relatively short distance of the fight arena.

No Shoes points up at his own face and says with a laugh. “You should have taken off your mummy costume before coming in here… You’re going to need them nice and clean… very soon.”

Gearing stares at him for a moment with his one eye. He reaches up with his wings and runs the tips under the edge of the bandages enough to make a gap. He starts pulling them off with his wings, allowing him to grab the clump with his left forehoof’s fetlock before using the tension between the leg and his own head to rip the bandages away from his face.

Pulling away the bandages in such fashion sends most of the pieces scattering away like large confetti. What remains attached to him hangs loosely from his neck like he’s wearing many scarves simultaneously. But the bandages, both on him and not, fluttering in the light breeze aren’t the reason for the undivided attention he suddenly gets. Nor the confused expression that overtakes No Shoes’ face.

The left side of Gearing’s face remains the same dark color, bestowed by chemical treatment, as the rest of him. Except, like the rest of him, where the chemical treatment had been disturbed or destroyed from injuries he’s received.

In the case of the left side of his face, there seems to be a golden spider web, like glass broken from a singular impact and radiating outward. Centered around his left ear. His left ear has a wavy rippled curve to the tip like some wilting flower petal that’s being deprived of life sustaining water. From that edge, down his ear, and growing outwards over the left side of his head, the polished brass of his natural body shines like gold in lines that interlock and weave with each other. The effect is disconcerting to look at and appears to be a near obsidian statue that had been shattered, and then repaired with gold Kintsugi style.

Gearing blinks his brushed copper eyes a few times as he looks up at the dark sky above, and then directs both of them towards No Shoes. He keeps hold of the bandages with his left fetlock as he says, “You have until that bell rings to call this off…”

No Shoes starts laughing and waves it away. “And why the hell would I want to do something like that? My first fight as a Reaper and backing down without even trying? I’d never live it down!”

“Because,” Gearing continues in the same low tones. “After the bell rings… You’re life expectancy drops to one minute… max.”

No Shoes throws his head back and laughs before looking at Gearing. “You are so full of shit.” He finishes with his head thrown forward as he practically spits in Gearing’s direction. He sneers as he starts ambling around and planting his hooves. “You know, I was going to take it easy on you, since I just killed your buddy… but I don’t think I will now. Not with that disrespectful attitude of yours.”

Pickles hops onto the top of the cage and uses the megaphone to talk to the crowd, “Hey everypony! Apparently the fighting spirits infectious today! The third round tonight is between our very own No Shoes, who just managed to become a full fledged Reaper, and one of Iron Hoof’s own entourage! For those that helped drive out the Wild Ones today, you know he’s no push over! So this is guaranteed to be an amazing fight that everyone will be talking about for years to come!” She waves a forehoof high in the air as she yells, “And the night’s burning, so let’s get this train moving! Wwooooo!”

A chime rings out from above as the old train bell is jingled to signal the start of the fight. But neither of the combatants looks up at it. It’s only the sound that mattered to them.

As soon as the bell chimed, Gearing began swinging his tail side to side. A quirk of being a clockwork is the ability to keep a steady rhythm. It’s not from having some internal clock that controls everything. They have no programming. They aren’t protectaponies, despite what they look like and popular opinion. No. The natural time keeping comes from being able to repeatedly make the same motions without fatigue or injury causing mistakes. It still takes a bit of practice, and some self awareness, to figure out which motions are best, or practical, for the individual though.

After all, as any pegasi can attest, being born with wings doesn’t mean you’re going to fly yourself home from the hospital.

And so, Gearing begins the fight… with a swish of his tail, as he focuses his attention on No Shoes.

No Shoes, the moment the bell rang out, started running towards Gearing from the other side of the arena as he screams out with glee, “It’s time to fight!”

Swish. “What you don’t,” Swish. “seem to understand,” Swish. “is this,” Swish. “isn’t a fight!” Swish. Gearing responds from his stationary position. Moving nothing more than his tail like a metronome.

As No Shoes crosses some threshold known only to Gearing, Gearing releases the bandages he’d been holding aloft the entire time with his fetlock and starts springing forward as he screams, “It’s an execution!” Swish. No Shoes was already in the portion of his gait where he had started leaving the ground with all four hooves, as he was running at maximum speed, when Gearing finally moved to intercept.

They are set to collide midair, and No Shoes is not only ready for it, but welcomes it fully with a forehoof blow he starts pulling back to unleash on Gearing. But, he’d never fought a pegasus before, and was not accustomed to spontaneous midair direction changes.

Gearing, unlike Swift, uses his wings to full potential, and gives them a snap. Not only does the maneuver make him shoot forward a lot faster, but it helps him get over and clear of No Shoes’ head. Entirely avoiding the assumed collision.

No Shoes turns his head back in time to look at Gearing, while completely bewildered, as Gearing locks his forelegs around No Shoes’ waist. No Shoes does not simply come to a dead stop, but actually gets yanked backwards by the mind-boggling mass that currently has him held tight.

Swish.

Gearing spins around horizontal to the ground, taking No Shoes with him, as he twists and arcs to swing No Shoes around by practically bear hugging the stallion’s waist.

Swish.

Gearing slams No Shoes into the ground, head first, by practically landing with him while still holding him upside down vertically. All the while keeping a tight grip on No Shoes’ waist in the process.

No shoes, with his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle, yells out in both surprise and pain as the side of his face is dragged along the floor plating.

Swish.

In a fluid follow up, Gearing glances down just enough to confirm placement, before stomping down, and bringing the full destructive force of his brass body to bear, with a single hindhoof.

On No Shoes’ head.

No Shoes’ eye goes wide and his scream momentarily turns to panic. The sound is quickly, and suddenly, replaced by a sick cracking of bone, and a wet suction sound, as Gearing’s hind hoof doesn’t merely smash his head. It goes completely through it. The noise is quickly drowned out by the screeching and grinding of metal on metal as Gearing’s hoof continues through the cobbled floor plating of the flat wagon.

Swish.

The roar of the crowd had barely gotten started, before it started sputtering out in a stage of confusion on what had just happened. From most of their perspectives, Gearing seems to be holding No Shoes’ upsides down and almost sitting on his head. The full truth of what’s going on doesn’t strike all of them until Gearing pushes off with the one hindleg he didn’t imbed in the metal, pulling his other hindleg out of the hole he made in the floor with another round of screeching and grinding.

His hind leg is soaked in blood up to his thigh before he arcs his body and flicks the lifeless, and partially headless, body of No Shoes a distance away.

Gearing drops down to all hooves and walks over to the side fencing, where Sable is standing and watching closely. Gearing nods back behind himself as he asks her, “How long’d that take?”

Sable looks between him and the bloodied corpse and replies, “From the first chime of the bell, to Subject No Shoes’ termination via catastrophic cranial damage, time elapsed was nine point nine eight seconds.”

Gearing nods. “That’s about what I counted too…” He shrugs. “From living to splat, in ten seconds flat…” He scratches his chin with a wingtip then smirks as he says, “Hey, that rhymed!” He shakes his hind leg, sending pieces of gore and blood showering onto the floor, as he turns and looks up at Pickles. She stands up on top of the dome wide eyed, with the microphone hanging limply at her side, as she’s too shocked to maintain the concentration necessary to hold the levitation field.

“So,” Gearing starts as he slowly turns around to look through the cage at everyone else. “Anyone else want to threaten my foals?” He points over at No Shoes with a wing. “Hmm? … Anypony? … No? … Good…” He starts walking towards the gate as he grumbles, “Now let me the hell out of here, I need a bath…”

Pickles shakes her head, pulling herself out of her stupor, and then grabs the microphone again as she waves at the scaffolding. Finally the other assistants ring the bell signaling the end of the fight. “And the winner is the green-winged black pegasus! I don’t know how to explain what just happened, but that’s the results here!” She looks around and adds, “Seriously, I think I blinked or something! Will somepony fill me in later?!”

The rest of the crowd likewise seems confused about the fast paced results. There was no ramp up. There was no fun to this. There was no playing to the crowd for favor. There was no sportsmanship. It was simply death. Cold and calculated. Many of them look at the key they’d been holding and can’t help but wonder if it might have changed things. But, the fight was over so quickly not a single key made it into the arena before the result was decided.

After getting out of the cage, Gearing walks over to the shipping container where he’d parted with Sable and gives her a gentle nuzzle across her cheek with his own as she quickly arrives. Unlike previous contests, no one is rushing to congratulate him as they would for normal victors. He gives off an air of simply finishing an unpleasant job, and not showing any signs of wishing to celebrate. So even those nearby decide to give him his space.

“Hey,” a soft mare’s voice draws both of their attentions to the side.

Glimmer doesn’t even look at him straight on. She keeps her muzzle pointed towards the arena, but notices his movement out of the corner of her eye as she leans against the shipping container. After being sure she garnered his attention she asks, “Did you do that… because he killed Gauge?”

Gearing looks her over for a few moments in silence. When she finally turns her head to look at him for an answer, she reveals her puffy red eyes and a hard to read expression.

“No,” Gearing says flatly.

Glimmer nods and looks off towards the arena. “Ah… Well… I was going to say… it wasn’t necessary… I didn’t blame him for it… so you shouldn’t either.” She shrugs then pushes away from the shipping container. “It’s late. Come on. I’ve got a room for you… so you can wash up or whatever.” She turns and walks away, leading the way as Gearing and Sable follow suit not far behind.

For once, neither Silver Shoes nor Orchid shadow them.

Glimmer leads the way to a group of box train cars that are permanent fixtures in the station, given the collection of debris around the wheels, and the fact that each one has a ramp, or stairs, built leading to the sliding side door. Her horn glows and the door slides open as she stands at the top of the ramp and looks inside.

A moment later an electric light kicks on as she flips the switch with a bit of magic that barely causes her horn to glow. She waves a forehoof in as she comments, “VIPs and other important ponies that stop by get to use these while they’re here. The water in the trough’s only good for bathing, not drinking. Drinking water’s in the rain barrels…”

Gearing walks into the box car and turns around as he looks at its interior and asks, “What’s this for?”

Glimmer shrugs. “You’ve had a hell of a day. One stupid thing after another from what I hear. And…” She smirks as she looks over at Sable. “Your marefriend’s been egging you on for some quality alone time since you got here.” Sable grins widely and nods. Glimmer shrugs as she looks back at Gearing. “And, given what you’ve been through today… I think you deserve it.” She looks over at Sable and smiles again. “I think you both do.” She turns and starts walking away as she says over her shoulder. “Take good care of him.”

“Confirmed!” Sable says happily.

As Glimmer is sliding the door shut she adds, “Don’t worry I’ll let the others know where you’re at, and to let you be...”

“Thanks, Glimmer,” Gearing calls out before the door shuts fully.

The moment the door’s closed, Sable’s cables whip out and grab Gearing’s head. She practically appears next to him as she quickly, and forcefully, starts digging in with kisses. But, instead of continuing to escalate them, she slowly fades them off until the final kiss is a mere tantalizing tease of a butterfly kiss.

Gearing reaches up with a wing and caresses her side as he asks softly, “What’d you want to do now? As if I didn’t know?”

“First?” Sable asks.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to…” She leans in and gives his cheek a kiss. “Give you a bath… because my darling Gearing not only desires one, but needs one as well.” She leans sideways and frowns lightly as she stares and comments, “You have neural tissue imbedded in the gears of your hindleg…”

Gearing puts a forehoof to his chest in mock shock. “You’re going to let me bathe first! Stop the presses, Sable’s gone sensible!”

“I’m always sensible,” Sable says as she gives a prim nod that’d make Nahlah proud. “Loving an amazing stallion like you makes perfect sense.” She rapidly sets her various loads aside as she pulls out a few items from their collective bags. “Now come here so I can get you cleaned up and give you a proper polish!”

“Ah… now see, that sounds more like the Sable I know and love!” Gearing says with a laugh.

Footnote: Massive Damage Registered… Hydra Matrix on Standby

Resuming reboot procedure. . . please stand by . . .

‘Hydra Matrix: Stage 1’ Online. . .

Perk Unlocked: Organic Metallurgy Reconstructer (Health Regen+) – Created using a foundation spell matrix taken from similar talismans in automated medical pods, this talisman implant enhances the hosts natural healing ability. While the effect is far slower than could be accomplished through the benefits of direct aid, due to power limitations, the effect is continuous and does not require any input, nor action, from the host. Even in the middle of intense combat the talisman will continue to do it’s best to actively repair any and all damage to the host’s body. Though it is highly recommended to seek cover and give the talisman time to work, should one become injured. The increase in healing, while not fast, can still be noticed with the naked eye. Turning what would normally be days or weeks of recovery, into mere minutes or hours. Strength and rate can be increased with additional power source (user activated). Harmonizes with other healing sources.

Repercussions and consequences abound as the fighting doesn't seem to end. Decisions are made and apparently the word "gentle" temporarily gets removed from the dictionary of the wasteland.

Personal note: Germs need to die. I'm tired of schedules getting wrecked.