Hoofington’s weather is being its typical self, a bitch, as it downpours. Trying to tame the weather is a full time job, and resources are stretched thin because of the ongoing war. Especially when it comes to pegasi. So, sometimes, the weather isn’t as tightly controlled as some residents would prefer. A figure in a large trench coat and wide brimmed hat walks along the sidewalk puffing on a cigarette. They keep near the building to try and avoid as much of the rain as possible. They pause at the entrance to an alley to finish the rest of their Sparkle Cola, downing it while the cigarette is still hanging out of the corner of their mouth. Then they spit the rest of the cigarette into the bottle, and use a downspout to put some water into it. They give it a shake to make sure the cigarette’s out, and toss the bottle into a nearby trash can.

A hacking cough comes from the alley. The trench coat wearing individual turns their head down the dark corridor and calls out with a gruff voice, “Hey, buddy, bad night to be out and about. Should be home partying instead.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Got any suggestions?” a voice replies from near one of the dumpsters in the alley.

The wide brimmed hat bobs up and down as they nod, but keep their muzzle down and face obscured. “Sure. Just need a few supplies.” He starts heading down the alley as he chuckles. “Can’t forget the whiskey.”

An individual steps out from behind the dumpster enough to look at them and waves them over as he replies, “I got Wild P on the list already.”

The individual with the trench coat walks over and starts lighting another cigarette as they chuckle. “Yeah. That’s how to start a party right.” The momentary flare up of light partially illuminates their mostly pale muzzle.

The other individual steps out a bit more, catching the light from an overhead window enough to reveal a vanilla earth pony stallion: Buck. “Here… I got the whole party list here…” He looks around then leans in and whispers, “Remember. Just cancel the parties…” He shakes his head. “I’m not helping anymore if anypony gets hurt from this. That’s the agreement. So just… cancel them.”

The individual in the trench coat reaches out and gently grabs the soaking wet wax paper bundle as they say with a sigh, “Yeah. I know.” They stand there looking at the package for a few moments before putting it into their coat. “Anything else?”

Buck shakes his head and backs up a bit as he looks around nervously. “No. Just don’t make me regret this.” His eyes bug out as he takes a step back into the wall.

The rain is pouring down so hard that the silencer on the pistol almost seems redundant as the end flashes and two growing red dots appear on Buck’s chest. After he hits the ground a third flash of the barrel coincides with one of Buck’s eyes disappearing in a burst of red gore. Even the massive downpour of rain has a problem trying to dilute the crimson blood pooling around on the ground side of Buck’s head, opposite the final shot.

They turn and continue further down the alley, tapping on a broach on their chest before muttering, “Heading home from the party store. Seems like the manager quit.” The light from a second floor window washes over his facial profile enough to show the alternating patterns of light and dark across his muzzle.

A happy bird chirp comes from the broach before it goes dark and silent. He pulls it off and puts it into a box that he produces from another pocket and puts it away before he turns into an alcove with a ponyhole maintenance access. He pulls open the electric box and flips a breaker on before turning and walking right through the brick wall. The overhead lights kick on, revealing the interior of this walk in freezer. Once inside, the wall slides back up into place to give a physical aspect to the illusion he’d just walked through. After he’s already inside the freezer he pulls off his hat and drops it on the ground at his hooves. At the same time his striped face changes and morphs into Rainbow Dash’s blue-faced pegasus assistant.

Gearing flops his rear down on the floor and looks up at the ceiling as his eyes drift around aimlessly. “Dammit, Buck… Why’d you have to go and do that…?”

A shelf rotates to Gearing’s left and he holds out the wax package to the mare standing there without even looking. “Here. Get to making the necessary changes. And hurry up. I need to be on my way to Roam by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the shadowy form of the unicorn says as she levitates the package inside and closes the wall back up.

Gearing sits there hanging his head as he groans. He keeps raising and lowering his right forehoof as he wants to smack the floor, but knows it’ll not only do no good but will actually cause damage and other problems. So he’s left sitting there, alone, full of disappointment and frustration. With nothing but his own bitterness to keep him company, and no way to vent any of it out.

Gearing curls up and lets out a groan as he can’t help but think about the distant past. They’d been friends. For how long he couldn’t even say. But he was a traitor. A mole. Gearing had been trying to flush them out for a while. To find out who it was that had been talking with Roam about turning over sensitive information. Gearing was gutted when he recognized Buck in the alley. He’d thought about simply knocking him out and bringing him in for MoM’s special memory treatment to find out who all he was working with. But that would have blown his op. And his cover. He was there explicitly on Roam’s Council’s instructions. At least that way, if they realized the information that he was going to feed them was crap, they’d have their suspicions focused on Buck not being forthcoming and trying to trick them. Although, the information that they did get their hooves on, no thanks to Buck, was true enough that they could act on it and help give credibility to Gearing and his cover. Though, if they got their hooves on the information Buck had tried to give away, there would be a sudden tree’s worth of leaves on the Tree of Remembrance. He was going to turn over a list of names, cover names, and ops currently running all over Equestria and abroad as well. Well over one hundred names.

Straight math. One traitor died. One hundred got to live.

It just really sucks that Buck had to be the one. Even more so given that, despite him having at least some knowledge of the fact, the list didn’t include any information about a few of those he was close with. There wasn’t even a hint of the green pegasus named Cloud Seed. Buck had intentionally neglected that, and in doing so left Gearing with nothing but theories as to why.

Gearing curls up just a bit more, pulling Sable in tightly to himself as he wraps her up with his hooves and wings in an all encompassing embrace. Sable, for her part, nuzzles into it happily as she enjoys every moment of cuddling with Gearing. She knows he’s bothered. The groans give that away easily. But, having no other information to go on at the moment, she opts for giving him the time he needs to figure out things on his own.

While making sure he knows she’s there for him, with an enthusiastic cuddle session.

The entire situation with Gauge has been eating at him for a while. Ever since he’d caught Gauge ratting out a mare and her foal to save his own skin. Gearing was furious. He was disturbed. He was practically ready to knock Gauge out and throw him in the waste recycler. Old habits die hard, and traitors are a threat that need to be removed at the first opportunity.

Though, with Gauge, it wasn’t so black and white. Giving it more thought Gearing had realized that, in fact, Gauge didn’t know those two. And, while it was still a shitty thing to do, he didn’t really owe them anything. Least of all his own life. While being a disgusting coward of a pony, it wouldn’t really be something for summary execution.

Then there’s the whole deal with the top of the office building after the crash. Sable had informed Gearing of the entire set of events. Though while it did put Handy in an even harsher light, it actually helped Gauge’s cause. Gauge had helped her gather up their supplies. He’d even helped gather her materials to repair herself with. He’d even gone so far as to stay with her, when even both Handy and Swift had left her.

Granted, there was a strong possibility that it’d been entirely because of her vast armaments, and from a sense of self preservation, but still, he stayed. Instead of sneaking away. Instead of selling her out, while she was vulnerable, to secure his own getaway. Instead of any other selfish thing he could have done to save his own hide and everyone else be damned, he stayed.

Which leaves Gearing with a predicament. Especially since he had been actively wishing the smelly gray stallion harm. But, now that it’s actually happened. Now that some combination of fates and stupidity has lead him to an early grave. Now that he got his wish, he’s not so sure.

And the little blue pegasus in his head isn’t letting him have any rest on the matter as well. It’s replaced the previous equation with one giant billboard sized question: ‘If Gauge was such an ass, why did Handy keep him around?!’

The only thing Gearing can come up with, is that there had to be some history there. Something that happened before they got to Stable 68, since they all arrived together according to Sable. Something worthy enough to ingrain him with one of the most foul-tempered, idiotic, short-sighted ponies Gearing’s ever had the misfortune of knowing: Handy Hooves.

Killing a dozen mercenaries to save him and his children didn’t do it. Saving his life from a horrible disease didn’t do it. Practically single-hoofedly turning a tomb into a long term functioning stable again, while giving him time with his family, didn’t do it either.

If none of that could even get Handy to treat him decently, what could Gauge had possibly done that was so above and beyond, that he could pretty much do no wrong in Handy’s eyes?

Gearing doesn’t know. But it causes him a bit of anxiety to think that he may have sorely misjudged Gauge. Being in a shitty situation, sometimes there are no right answers. Only the ones you can live with. Maybe it had just been a snap decision from a desperate buck that knew he was screwed beyond belief if it didn’t work.

The little blue pegasus in his head, being ever so helpful, changes the subject by holding up two large pictures. One of No Shoes, sprawled out with most of his head missing, just the way Gearing had left him in the arena. And one of Big Daddy, puffing on a cigar and looking at him over his sunglasses with those glowing eyes.

The Reapers.

He’s never liked games where rules are sprung on him after he’s started playing. It’s hard to strategize properly when you don’t know everything that’s going on. The Reapers almost seemed okay to Gearing. Not exactly poster material for civility and old fashioned Equestrian morality. But, good enough for the Equestrian wasteland. The same could be said with the Freight Cars. They have their own rules. Their own codes of conduct and honor.

The problem, Gearing realizes, is that some of their codes of conduct are shit that turns his stomach. It has the potential to be so much worse than what he’s seen. If you can challenge anyone, for anything, do they take part in slavery as well? He hasn’t seen it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. What about forced prostitution? Is there an age limit, or can anyone be challenged? Foals? Where exactly are their limits? How far is too far? How rigid is that line for their limits?

Gearing hates to jump to think about it, but he realizes that, at some point, he might very well come across something that will put him on a head long course against them. That they might turn out to be an unbearable stain on Equestria that needs to be removed. He realizes, quickly, that would be wholly unpleasant, and a nightmare to even attempt. Their strength and connections aside, which are vast on even a cursory examination, he has other, more pressing, concerns with that chain of events.

Mainly Stable 68, and the fact that Swift seems dead set on getting in with the group. Though, she may very well be doing it for the personal challenge of it. To prove to herself how far she’s come in her training. She might not realize what they’re really like.

But, then again, she might already know. And be entirely okay with it.

The little blue pegasus in his head bonks him with an oversized mallet as it tuts at him and starts ranting incomprehensibly, as it hops around and points at a large picture of Apple Armor and the other foals.

Gearing can’t help but agreeing with him on this. Swift would never intentionally take part in harming foals. Regardless of who’d sired them.

He gently moves his foreleg, and checks his PipBuck. Despite the late night, that only got later once Sable got him alone, his uneasy sleep, and his rampant runaway thoughts, it’s still night. Hours away from even the earliest signs of dawn breaking.

When he turns his head from his PipBuck, he locks eyes with Sable as she cozies in again. They rest, muzzle to muzzle, as she asks softly, “Are you okay, my love?”

“Yeah,” Gearing replies as he nods lightly, nuzzling her gently in the process. “Just thinking of some things…”

“Anything I may assist you with?” she asks as she scoots even closer.

Gearing shrugs, then shakes his head. “I’m just debating on getting out of here.”

Sable pauses her covert attempt to smother him as she asks, “Have I done something to offend you?”

Gearing shakes his head quickly, then, to drive his point home, he rolls over, practically on top of her, and starts kissing her neck and cheek. “No. Of course you haven’t.” He nuzzles her cheek with his own as he says in a sighing gush, “I love you, Sable.”

His unnecessary confession makes her squeal with happiness before all of her cables wrap him up and hold him tighter to herself. “I love you, as well, my darling Gearing!”

He snickers a bit and allows her to give him a full body massage with her cables as he says, “I’m just concerned that one of these fools around here are going to try and pick a fight with me. Because I beat No Shoes.” He shakes his head as he groans, “Apparently there’s a long training period to work yourself up that high, and I just bumped them off in a matter of minutes…” He shrugs lightly, about as much as she allows him with her cables wrapped around him so. “Neighpoleon complex… feeling the need to go after someone they think is higher on the ladder just to prove their own toughness. I don’t want to get into a cycle of that nonsense. Bruised egos can cause a lot of problems, and I’d rather avoid the whole mess.”

Sable gently caresses him along his sides, and nuzzles his cheek with her own as she asks, “What do you have in mind, my love?”

He trails his lips around her muzzle, and gives her a soft kiss lip to lip. Not one that promises rapid escalation. Neither is it one signaling an end to their contact. It’s a loving lip caress that makes them both very much aware of the present. Causing them both to close their eyes and just let it encompass their existence.

As they are both opening their eyes again, he lets out a sigh and says softly, “I’m going to slip out, and fly away. If I’m not here, they can’t pull that bullshit ‘challenge’ nonsense again… I’ll meet up with you along the route to Megamart.” He reaches up and caresses her cheek with a forehoof as he adds, “If they try any shit… and you need me… I’ll be within range. Just let me know, and I’ll come running.” He leans over and kisses her opposite cheek as he continues to caresses the first with his forehoof and mutters, “And I’ll bring hell with me…”

Sable eats up the attention with every fiber of her being as she continues to hold him to her. Even more so with his loving concerns whispered to her, and the lengths he would go to protect her. All in the name of love and affection. It’s almost too much for her. Almost too much for her to let him get away from her hooves and cables. But, he has a point. And she knows she can certainly request a taste of some of her favorite flavor once they’re out of the current situation. She nuzzles him back and says softly, “As you wish, my love. I’ll inform you if I need any assistance.”

He gives her a nodding nuzzle to her cheek as he says, “Thanks…”

In an attempt to be sensible, though she realizes drawing attention to it is likely to be counter productive to her own desires, Sable asks, “When do you intend to leave?”

Gearing lets out a groan as he nuzzle into her a bit more. Then he starts slowly pulling away as he says, “I really should go ahead and go now. While it’s still dark.”

She knew that was going to be the answer, but that doesn’t make hearing it any less disappointing. “As you wish, my love.” She slowly withdraws her cables and allows him to pull away from her. She quickly rises, and gets muzzle to muzzle with him as she says, “I’ll assist in whatever way I can.” After giving his flank a quick smack with a cable, as he’s bent over gathering up the equipment and supplies he’s going to take, she comments, “I’ll expect proper compensation at the earliest opportunity.”

His head whips around to stare at her, with his mouth hanging open slightly. But he can’t help but smirk as she gives him a rather mischievous grin. After getting his cloak on, he walks up to her and kisses her cheek as he says, “You can count on it.”

She nuzzles him back and asks softly, “Ready?”

He nods and starts walking towards the door, but stops as he feels a pressure on his chest. He looks down and sees one of Sable’s cables pushing him back as she turns around and heads for the door. He looks up and catches just a moment of eye contact with her, as she looks back at him over her shoulder, before she turns back towards the door.

She slides the boxcar’s door open slowly, and peeks her head out. She looks back and forth, until a voice from her left draws her attention.

A Freight Cars mare walking by with a battle saddle with dual shotguns waves and asks, “There something you need?”

Sable looks back and forth quickly, then pushes the door open more as she points off towards the direction behind the Freight Cars mare. “Thank you! Yes. Over there!”

The Freight Cars member raises an eyebrow then turns her head back to look at what Sable is pointing at. “What’s that?”

“Is that where the extra water that’s suitable for bathing is located?” She grins widely as she feels the gush of wind blow by her head, as Gearing flies over her and curves around back towards the roof without a sound. She waves her forehoof in the same direction as she continues, “My darling Gearing had gotten quite messy during the fight!”

The mare nods her head before she looks back at Sable. “Yes, ma’am! You can use the water in the trough for bathing, but don’t drink it, only drink from the water barrels!”

Sable nods and grins. “Thank you for the information!”

The mare tips her conductor’s hat and smiles before she asks, “Do you need help getting water?”

Sable shakes her head and covertly grabs a bucket, from its hiding place inside and behind her, with one of her cables, dumping it’s clear contents out into a larger basin near it, before trotting out with it and closing the door behind her. “No thank you. That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it.” She smiles widely as she’s approaching the Freight Cars mare and casually swinging the empty bucket. “I enjoy helping my darling Gearing…”

She tips her conductors hat again and continues on with her patrol as she says, “Well, if you need anything. Just let one of us know!”

Sable waves at her with a hoof and continues to the water as she grins widely. After the Freight Cars security mare is out of sight, Sable trots in place happily and gives her flank a shake as she imagines the praise she’s going to get for her effective diversion.

Gearing wasn’t expecting the diversionary tactic from Sable. He was planning on just jumping out and melting into the shadows until he could get clear and fly away. But, he’s not too prideful to accept an advantage when it’s delivered to him gift wrapped so nicely. Truth be told, he’s proud of her. And a little curious as to where the idea had come from.

Nevertheless, he made short work of the distance around the boxcars and up into the air. The station terminal, as a whole, is peppered with one type of lights or another. But they are for general safety. So a pony’s hoof doesn’t stray into a grate hole, or something equally problematic. They weren’t meant for illuminating the night sky. This base, as fortified as it seems to be, isn’t designed with air attacks in mind.

Nor air escapes.

Gearing quickly got to a comfortable altitude above the buildings before circling around and heading a bit to the north east. He wants to be far enough away that he can avoid any questions, or having one of the Freight Cars members track him down. Even accidentally. But he wants to be close enough that, should Sable need his assistance, he can receive her distress beacon.

A happy middle ground presents itself in the form of another tall building that’s half collapsed in on itself. It reminds him of the sniper nest that was overlooking the towing company full of slavers. In that it has a few areas on the upper floors that seem practically impossible to reach from the ground. Without wings that is.

However, he’s not an idiot. Even if he didn’t already run into one earth pony that seemed to do mind boggling things with freehoof climbing, he’s had more than enough experience during the war.

Zebra’s didn’t have horns nor wings, and were more than capable, and worrisome, opponents after all.

Gearing lands in one of the partially collapsed rooms, and quickly tests the floor for stability before heading over to a pile of rubble. He could simply patrol around the night sky, and wait for the others to wake up and leave. But that would increase the chances of getting spotted. Of someone noticing him. Of someone taking extreme exception to Gearing skipping out in the middle of the night.

So he opts for partially burying himself in rubble, and simply waiting. Those with the need to breathe, or with a bad case of claustrophobia would find the process and situation impossible. While Gearing isn’t enthused with tight, confining, spaces, doing this isn’t really a problem for him. The added weight, compared to his body, is rather negligible. While he does burrow under the pieces of the above floors debris, it’s not enough to hold him there. Not even enough to prevent his movements. So he simply goes still, and starts waiting out the darkness of the deep night.

This trip has brought more to the surface than he had expected. And far sooner than he’d even dreamed. There are groups that are so organized and feared, that they have an influence far from their origins. Hoofington isn’t very close to Megamac, but it’s presence is still felt there. The tournaments, while different from those fights run by the Freight Cars gang, still have the same kind of flavor. They still draw the Reapers’ attention. And, apparently, if you do well enough in either of them, there’s a chance they might try and poach you for their own numbers.

Over and over he runs the thoughts through his head. And he always comes up with the same answer. An answer that he’s not happy with at all to admit.

There’s far more going on in the wasteland than he’s aware of.

While, in itself it might seem a rather narcissistic idea to find this problematic. Or surprising. But it’s not a simple matter of the name of different gangs and their locations. It’s the thought that there are, undeniably, entire organizations that he’s not run into yet. That, despite normally being one of the ones that was on the cusp of every new tidbit of world affecting information, now he’s at the mercy of unknown hundreds.

Unknown thousands.

He comes to the unsavory conclusion that he’s going to need help. And a lot of it. Not just a matter of information, but those willing to aid him in trying to set things right. But that’s a fool’s errand. An idiots request. Because who in Equus would be willing to, practically guaranteed, throw their lives away all for the sake of possibly making the world a better place.

Gearing’s mind quickly jumps to two names.

The little blue pegasus in his head raises a hoof, shakes its head, then solemnly scratches out ‘Stable Dweller’ from the pair.

Gearing mentally groans as he seems to be making his own point. He can’t possibly ask others to risk their life. Not for something he himself is unsure he can accomplish. He doesn’t know anyone well enough to even think about doing that.

Sable would, he’s sure. He can’t help but smiling at the thought that his silly mare would be willing to follow him through the fires of hell itself just to make him happy. But that’s not what he wants for her. And he’s not going to use love as a weapon.

Which brings him almost full circle again. Just what to do.

He hates playing fairly. Especially when it’s a game that’s so stacked against him. One that he can’t tweak and make work for him. He needs to find a way to at least balance the scales.

A map appears before his mind’s eye again as he starts trailing over one location after another. The biggest, glaring, monster of a solution lies in Hoofington. It’s not the first time he’s thought of this. But it’s certainly been reinforced. Where as before it was something that would have been nice. Extra information. Extra resources. Maybe a place to fall back to in case things go south and really bring down another volley of balefire upon Equestria.

He knows where he can find aid.

Aid potentially strong enough to help counter the Reapers, should his fears about them be found justified. Aid against rogue military remnants like the Steel Rangers if they really are as disgusting as he’s been lead to believe. Aid against practically any other remaining force in all of Equestria.

A strength so devastating that it would give any of them, or all of them, pause once it was brought fully to bear.

It won’t be in the extra hooves he may find living there. If there is indeed anyone still alive. Even if there is, he’d have the same problem there as here: nopony knows him enough to join up and help. So he’s not going to count anyone among the number of advantages he knows he can find there.

He knows right where he can find an equalizer to allow him to take on a substantial force, and potentially, fates willing, bring some order back to the wastes of Equestria. But, regardless of what may exist, it won’t be easy. He’s not a fool. He knows it’s going to be a long grueling process. There’s not a single megaspell to make everyone play nice. If there was, Fluttershy would have bombarded all of Equus with it long ago. There will be no easy answers there. Assuming he can get there.

He’ll need a few supplies. Some equipment. And a lot of luck. And that’s just to get to Megamart in Hoofington. But that’s only the next stage of his goal. For getting to Hoofington isn’t his plan. Hoofington is only a stepping stone, not his end goal.

For, if he wants to unleash this equalizer that he has blinking in his head, he only has the one choice. And no other goal will work. No where else in Equestria has the potential for a lone pegasus to make such a mark on the world. No where except exactly where he knows now he has to go.

The Core.

Footnote: ‘Hydra Matrix: Stage 1’ Online. . .

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

I know it's not on time, and I'm sorry for that. I'm honestly surprised I got this much done given what all has happened, but I wanted to put out something. I'm rather exhausted from the entire breakin situation and writing is one of the few things I can do to try and recoup that doesn't require much physically.

I know it's not the best. Apologies. I'll be coming back later to refine it and delve a bit more in when I'm thinking clearly. But, over all, this gets the general idea down of where I wanted to go and the pacing with the chapter.

I'd like to publicly thank my friends who have been helping me try and deal with this. You guys have really helped restoke my faith in humanity. And my readers who have been understanding and kind enough to give me a pass while I try to get my life back together.

Thank you all.

-Quillsy