“My mutfruit!” the buck with the neck strap vendor tray yells out in dismay as he falls to his hind knees and slaps his forehooves onto his own cheeks in horror. He would recognize his wagon anywhere. Especially with all of the time he put into getting it moving again. And Big Daddy just wrecked it by throwing someone into it. And, worst of all, to him at least, he’s positive that his entire stock of fruits was just ruined or out right destroyed.

But no one pays the distraught buck any mind.

Murmurs start picking up among the crowd of witnesses to Big Daddy’s display as they try and figure out what they should do now, if anything. A few bets get passed around on if Gearing’s even still alive after that. Although it’s even money between those involved. And those who are sure he’s alive are convinced the ‘crypony in the golden armor’ wouldn’t be wearing the gaudy gold armor if it didn’t provide at least some protection. A few comments get passed around wondering who’s going to get stuck cleaning up the mess this time. A few wannabes, who swear they always get stuck with said duties, quickly make themselves scarce as soon as they realize the possibility of being chosen, yet again, to clean up might be happening soon.

But the comments from the peanut gallery come to an absolute halt shortly after they started as a rumbling noise escapes out of the wagon from unseen merchandise being moved and mangled.

Without any further warning, a golden brass foreleg, covered in some kind of purplish syrupy semi transparent ooze with small chunks of white and purple in it, punches up and out through the embossed sheet metal from the inside. Then another one with a PipBuck on it joins it through the same hole and thus widening it just a bit more. The protruding limbs pull apart from each other, ripping the sheet metal apart as the legs open up as if they are about to give someone a hug. The legs clamp down on the side of the wagon frame, near the top where the frame has more support, and then Gearing hoists himself up and pierces through the already mangled metal with his snoot and head.

And in doing so gives the impression to those around that some kind of mutant metallic baby bird is hatching out of the wagon itself.

Seeing this, and knowing exactly what the viscous fluid covering Gearing is, the vendor cries out, “My muuuutfruuuuuit!” But no one notices.

Gearing, with the rest of him covered in the same semi transparent purple fluid as his legs but with additional fragments of wood stuck to him too, looks around with a frown at the crowd of spectators as he asks, “What the hell?” Then he continues to look around before looking over and pointedly staring at Big Daddy. “Oh.” He pulls himself through the rest of the way, the metal squealing and screeching as it scraps against him until he’s out enough to hop away from the wagon. But instead of leaving he looks up, and then looks around himself, before turning around and sticking his front half back through the hole into the wagon. “Dammit, where’d that thing go?” He stands there, perched on just his hind hooves, as he rummages around inside of the wagon, before he pulls back upright holding his bent rifle with one forehoof. “There you are!” He gives it a vigorous shake, flinging off bits of sticky goo in various directions before slinging it back over his shoulder. “We’ve been through a lot today, ain’t we?” He gives the rifle’s butt a pat as he’s turning around before he hops off the wagon and flutters a bit. “I hope you didn’t get hurt any more with that nonsense.”

As Gearing is leaving the wagon, covered in pureed mutfruit, the vendor hangs his head and moans quietly, “My mutfruit…” But apparently no one cares as no one so much as looks at him.

Gearing comes in for a gentle landing, and then starts casually trotting towards Big Daddy as he asks, “Well hello to you too, Big Daddy. What the hell I do this time, or is this going to become our standard greeting? Like a secret hoofshake or something?”

Collective jaws hit the ground as even Dolor’s typically melancholic expressionless face is even painted with shock and confusion at the turn of events. And not least of all sources being Gearing’s nonchalant audacity of apparently not even caring about being thrown through sheet metal.

Gearing looks over at Soots as he’s walking towards Big Daddy and grins as he starts flicking off the purple goop that’s all over him. “Hey, fancy seeing you so soon!” He points towards Big Daddy as he gives Soots a mischievous grin. “See? I said I’d find him sooner or later.”

Soots’ deep belly laugh stops mid note as his face seems to freeze solid mid laugh. Like his face got stuck in that expression for a few seconds. Then his eyes slowly grow wider before he leans towards his Hoofington Fire Department suit wearing friend and says softly, “He- he’s not worried about Big Daddy…”

Big Daddy straightens up as he looks at Gearing and keeps sizing him, and the situation, up. “Well you’ve been taking your sweet ass time getting here. And that’s after you just took off in the middle of the night without a word. Kinda rude, don’t ya think?

Soots’ eyes go even wider as his body starts to shake, and his mug of beer starts splashing over the rim and out onto the ground as he whispers to his friend, “A- and… Big Daddy knows him… he knows him!”

His friend turns his helmeted head, pointing his facemask right towards Soots, and says flatly, “If you care about me in even the tiniest bit… don’t tell anyone it was my idea…” before he sharply turns and starts trotting away at an increasingly faster pace to get away from the gathering of ponies.

Soots sheepishly comments as he looks over at Big Daddy, “So… yeah… heeeere he iiiiiis… Just like I said… Right?” He looks back and forth as he gives a rather cringey grin. “We good? We’re all good?”

Big Daddy smirks as he looks over at him and nods. “Yeah, I know him. And yeah he did what they’ve been saying… I saw it with my own two eyes.” He leans down and looks at Soots over the edge of his sunglasses with his lightly glowing eyes.

Soots grins and nods before raising his shaky mug up towards him and says with a nervous chuckle, “G-great! You two should catch up and I… I should …” He looks into his mug, sees it’s nearly half empty now since he’s spilled it all over the ground, and quickly downs the entire thing in one go before holding up the mug upside damn and commenting, “Go get another drink! Yeah! Have fun!” He starts to leave then looks over to Gearing and says quickly, “Goodseeingyouagainhavefungoodbye!” before he takes off at a full blown run through the crowd and away from Gearing and Big Daddy.

Gearing stops a couple paces from Big Daddy and looks at Soots stampeding away as he comments, “I do believe that buck needs to take a break and relax. Seems awfully stressed and worked up.”

Several of the other ponies around snicker and snort, then turn around and leave as they’ve decided the excitement’s done passed and they’ve got better things to do than watch nothing happen. Although others have pointedly decided to linger around. Because if Big Daddy has taken an interest in somepony, then it’s somepony that they should be paying attention to as well by their reckoning. And there’s a few who have already connected the dots through several rumors and bits of news, and as such are already at least partially familiar with some of Gearing’s exploits. Whether Gearing likes it or not.

Gearing looks over at Dolor and frowns as he says, “See what I mean? I get thrown around and crash into shit all the time. It’s a big inconvenience sometimes.”

Dolor gives the slightest hint of a smile before he shrugs. “Well, you’re not dead.”

“Yeah, for better or worse, that’s true,” Gearing replies with a shrug. Earning an actual snicker from Dolor’s companion before Gearing asks, “You guys got any spare parts for this rifle? I really need to get it fixed.” He looks up at Big Daddy and shrugs as he says, “Bent gun ain’t getting much done.”

Dolor starts walking away as he says, “There are parts and those with things to help. I’ll help you get them later. I think you have bigger concerns at the moment.”

Gearing looks over at him and raises one eyebrow and ear as he asks, “Like?”

Big Daddy’s forehooves come down, wrap around Gearing’s head, and then turn it to face him as he says, “Like me for example?”

“Oh, yeeeaaaah… What’s up?” Gearing replies as he looks up at him with a smirk.

Big Daddy looks him over before giving an amused shake of his head and readjusting his sunglasses to cover up the faint illumination coming from his eyes. “Come on, I need to talk to you for a bit. We’ll have a drink while you explain yourself.”

Gearing trots along beside him as he asks, “How about I make you a drink while we talk?”

Big Daddy laughs with a deep chuckle before he asks, “Trying to suck up already?”

Gearing waves it away as he says, “Nah, but booze is wasted on me and you seem like a buck that might enjoy a few recipes I know.”

“Sure, why not,” Big Daddy replies as he leads the way towards the side of the arena that had the arena’s large scoreboard on it.

As they are walking in that direction Gearing can’t help but trailing his eyes towards the scoreboard and giving it a critical eye. It was painful to look at when he first walked in and saw it, so he’s tried not to. But now he can’t really avoid it as they’re walking straight in that direction. The neon lights that declare Hoofington Sports Arena are in need of some serious work. The constant flickering is maddening. Each pulse makes a certain part of Gearing want to fly up there, and take care of it himself. The whole place needs some work, in one way or another, but that sign is physically uncomfortable for Gearing to look at. And that cartoonish mascot of a stereotypical ‘reaper’, a scythe wielding skeletal pony, doesn’t help matters any in his opinion.

‘Home of the Hoofington Reapers’? No shit, Gearing thinks as he glares at the words on the sign and tries to will the lights to stop blinking out randomly. While he’s watching, a small section throws out a few sparks, and stops flickering. Because it goes out entirely. Gearing lets out a snort and bristles at the blatant neglect.

‘Would it make you feel better to join up with them, just so you can whip the ass of whoever is supposed to be taking care of this place, and isn’t?’ the little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head asks as it’s face down on a mind cloud and splayed out. It’s back to being the antithesis to ‘energetic’, but even though it’s far from feeling better in the least, at least it’s not gotten any worse.

Don’t tempt me, Gearing mentally retorts.

Gearing manages to tear his eyes away from the techgore by paying more attention to all of the ponies and other encampments they are passing. He can clearly see various markings showing who they are affiliated with. But, that only adds to the puzzle for him. For the closer they get to their apparent destination, the more Gearing can see of the various individuals. And their apparent favorite pastime: Training.

Along the whole way there’s ponies sparing, practicing various fighting styles, or just sitting around hoof wrestling. All of which have some level of spectators off to the side either cheering on one side, or both, or seemingly trying to learn from the others. And, side by side in some cases, are blatantly opposed gangers, judging by the affiliation they are wearing in various forms. The removable kind of marker, Gearing can see being practical, like the colored scarves some are wearing around their necks or legs. The tattoos some have might not be removable, but he can understand the choice. Tattoos go way back, after all. The ones with their gang affiliation actually branded into their very hide, with either hot irons or some other technique, Gearing can’t understand at all and he wonders about the mental health of any pony that thinks doing that to themselves is a good idea. True, it unquestionably shows dedication; he admits that. But it also shows a desperate need for a therapist by his measure.

But, even with the over aggressiveness of all of it. Even with the amount of muscle on display that would get both recruiters and lecherous ponies hot, bothered, and overly excited. Even with the amount of blood being drawn in a few cases. Even with the amount of drinking taking place. And in spite of the overall ‘might makes right’ vibes he’s gotten over these last few weeks: this is all coordinated competition. They aren’t simply trying to slaughter each other. It’s more like a pugilist combat-as-sport social group.

A fact which gets reinforced for him as he watches a mare miss blocking a strike from an incoming lead pipe, launched by the mare she’s sparring with, and take a devastating blow to the side of her head as a result. Blood spurts everywhere, and the mare starts stumbling as it looks to Gearing like her orbital bone was probably just crushed. Instantly the fight comes to a stop, a couple spectators come running over, and the assailant actually drops their pipe and starts helping the bleeding mare sit down. As they start tending to the bloody mare with various medical supplies, she actually starts laughing. Gearing twists his ears in their direction, wondering if it’s a form of concussion induced madness, but can’t help a smirk developing on his muzzle as he hears the half blind mare chastising herself for ‘being so stupid’.

Not long after that the pair start climbing a set of steps that are built into the stadium seating. Except these don’t go to where the majority of seats are, or were, located. This path leads to a tunnel. Above the tunnel entrance is an old original sign declaring Box Seating: A – H. Below that is an obvious newer addition, painted on the surface, stating Top Ten Only.

Given what he knows of the Reapers, and their constant jockeying for position, Gearing figures the sign is pretty self explanatory. But even so he makes a mental note to ask about it if it doesn’t come up naturally. Just in case it’s even more important than he thinks it is.

The tunnel the stairs led them up to is a relatively wide hallway that’s lined with poster displays for the teams that played here during the war. Some of them are mostly intact; others are completely gone with only the faded fragments of the original team poster dangling inside of the busted frame giving testimony to their existence. But as random as the condition of the majority seems to be, there are two very noticeable outliers. On one side, literally, is the practically religious shrine to the Hoofington Reapers hoofball team. What functions as the offering plate for those devote individuals tithing to the spirits of the past, are a group of trophies that Gearing can’t even place. To him, even at a glance, they look like cheap plastic novelty souvenirs. But, despite their chipped edges, cheap manufacture, and questionable origins, they’re currently stuffed with various offerings, including piles of caps that no one dares touch. On the other side of the hall is another oddity, especially for Gearing as he is very well aware of the ongoing beef the two teams had with each other. The Manehattan Maulers, despite being unrepentant rivals, have their own poster enshrined in a place of honor across from the Reapers. But instead of caps, the Maulers have been tithed a variety of creative words and phrases. Some of which are so comically badly written that Gearing has to suppress a laugh. Whereas the Reapers have piles of caps, The Maulers have their ‘gifts’ written on the wall, floor, and even ceiling, radiating out from the poster, in every direction and tightly packed at that, for nearly a dozen feet. But, despite the ire directed at them, the poster itself remains unmarred, unblemished, and protected such that not so much as a foalish drawing of a mustache has been applied to any of the ponies. Which just confuses Gearing all the more.

Further up the hallway, and not long after passing the puzzling ritualistic behavior, they arrive at a door labeled Manager. Big Daddy opens it casually, walks through, and then heads over to where an old couch and end table have been set up. As he’s opening up the end table he waves over to the corner where a bar is set up. “Bar’s stocked. Normally I’m the one making drinks in here. But, let’s see what you got hot shot.” He pulls a cigar out of the end table, nips the tip off, pops it into his mouth, and lights it with an old golden lighter. But despite the care given to it, time has played havoc on it and it clearly registers for Gearing as not actually gold but instead tarnished brass: a metal that Gearing is intimately familiar with.

Big Daddy spins around and lounges on the couch that’s so old and used that the fabric covering it has started falling apart with individual threads clearly visible in places. Big Daddy watches Gearing step into the room and nods towards the bar with his chin, with the burning cigar pointing right at it, before using his tongue and rolling the lit cigar to the side of his mouth. “There’s some towels back there too, wipe that goop off of yourself while you’re at it.”

“Thanks,” Gearing comments as he’s stepping in and closing the door behind himself with a forehoof. As he’s finishing the rotation, from turning around to close the door to facing the bar, time comes to a near halt as he activates SATS.

Gearing makes a quick mental check of the room now that the door is closed. Closing it wasn’t just a matter of privacy, he also looked to see if there was anyone following them. He wasn’t sure what to expect once Big Daddy got him alone. But unlike Gearing’s concerns, Big Daddy seems perfectly amiable for a lengthy conversation. Especially with how he’s already gotten himself comfortable on the couch. And, now that Gearing thinks about, he realizes the same amount of concern crept up with Bottlecap. The parallels draw a mental smile as the thought crosses his accelerated mind. Despite his actions or apparent reputation and rumors, both are perfectly comfortable with being in a room alone with him. Both have private offices that are decorated with 200 year old memorabilia for their chosen hobby. Although Big Daddy’s office has far more newspapers pasted up on the majority of the space. There’s also that projector set up behind the couch, which Gearing figures is for Big Daddy to watch old Reaper game footage using that large spot on the wall without newspapers as the screen. Gearing can’t help but mentally chuckle as he wonders if Big Daddy had brought him up here to fix his projector. Big Daddy also has the unquestionable advantage of a window with a view. Many of them at that, as the one whole wall is nearly nothing but windows and lets in the artificial sunshine to light the room spectacularly. And beyond that, you can see the entire arena from this vantage point.

And that realization starts making Gearing concerned about potential snipers. But it doesn’t last long as he remembers that this particular group prefers things up close and personal. They want you to know who did you in when it happens. So he wills himself not to be so worried about it, even if he is potentially behind enemy lines and in the belly of the beast at the moment.

After finishing his sweep, looking for signs of hidden doors with security behind it, or hidden turrets, Gearing’s goes ahead and deactivates SATS. Although as time resumes, he can’t help noticing that the newspapers hung around on the walls have a surprising number of mentions of the Manehattan team. Even more so given that the win-loss ratio with them was tragically unflattering for the Hoofington Reapers.

Without missing a beat, and giving no outward indication at all that he’d just taken a time warp time out, Gearing heads straight towards the bar as he says, “Thanks! This stuff’s sticky!”

Gearing trots over to the mini bar and grabs a couple of the aforementioned towels. He quickly starts wiping off with them, dropping the sticky soiled towels in a bucket behind the bar that already had others of the same type as they become oversaturated with the purplish semi transparent mess. After getting himself mostly clean, Gearing starts rooting around behind the bar as he says, “I just gotta make sure you got everything, or see what I can use as a substitute… Ah HAH!” Gearing sets a bottle of whiskey off to the side on the counter and pops the top off of a Sparkle Cola as he’s setting up a hot plate with his wings. In short order he’s simmering the Sparkle Cola in a small pan over the hot plate while he gets a glass ready off to the side.

Big Daddy casually puffs on his cigar as he looks at Gearing working at the bar: proficiently at that. He takes a long pull from the cigar, before letting it out in a long exhaust-like sigh. He balances the cigar on his forehoof and holds it off to the side before he asks, “So you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Gearing carefully stirs and cooks the Sparkle Cola and watches it as it loses a lot of its volume and thickens up considerably. “The drink? It’s just something I picked up during the war. Couldn’t always get what we needed so we had to improvise. And you strike me as a buck that’d enjoy this one.”

“I’m not talking about the drink, I'm talking about that stunt with the wagon. I know I didn’t throw you hard enough to cause that kind of damage and I know where you should have landed… So why’d you do that?” He takes a puff off his cigar before he angles his sunglasses down and starts paying close attention to Gearing. “Did you just say ‘war’?”

Gearing nods as he removes the thickened Sparkle Cola concoction from the heat, turns off the hot plate, and starts mixing everything together in the glass by pouring it over a large ice cube in the center of the cup. “Yup.” He gently starts stirring the drink as he’s holding it with one hoof, by swirling the little metal swizzle stick the whole way as he makes his way to Big Daddy. He hands it over as he looks Big Daddy in the eye and says flatly, “The war. And, yes, I’m rather confident in saying I’m most likely older than you and everyone you’ve ever known. Depending on how we’re gonna count age that is.” He pulls the swizzle stick away as he grins at Big Daddy. “This is a Front Line Old Fashioned… lemmie know what ya think.” And after waving the swizzle stick over the glass like it were a magic wand, he starts mindlessly twirling it with the pinions of his right wing off to the side.

“Uh huh…” Big Daddy takes the glass and understandably raises an eyebrow at Gearing’s declaration before gently taking a sip. His glowing eyes go wide as he looks down at it. “That’s not bad, not bad at all!”

Gearing grins widely at him, and then sits down in front of him, on the floor, as he says, “I’m glad you enjoy it.” He waves a hoof as he says, “And, now for your question… I’m sure you realized it, but I did it intentionally.”

“Uh huh, but why? Trying to showboat?” Big Daddy asks as he eyeballs him suspiciously. Though it doesn’t stop him from enjoying the drink with regular sips.

Gearing shakes his head. “Nope. I did it to make you look good –not that you need help in that, obviously- but I wanted to make sure that anyone that thought I’d come here to challenge you would know that that’s not the case and that I’m well aware of the pecking order around here and, most importantly, I’m falling in line with everyone else… That I know who the boss is around here and have zero intention of being some kind of rival or competition for the group.”

Big Daddy swirls the drink around a bit before he says, “And somehow… I don’t believe that.”

Gearing takes in a deep breath, and then lets it out in a heavy sigh. “Mind if I give you my personal impression, and assessment of your Reapers? Then you can correct me if I’ve made any mistakes in my understanding. But either way I’m sure you’ll understand the ‘whys’ of my reasoning afterward.”

“Sure, let’s hear it,” Big Daddy replies as he waves towards him with one hoof but settles back into the couch.

Gearing sets the swizzle stick onto the end table, walks over to the window, and looks out. He momentarily glances up at the artificial sky above the field, and feels a pang of regret at the visual representation of what he’s lost. He forces his view down onto the ponies and the general Hoofington Reaper’s settlement as he starts arranging his thoughts. He wants to diffuse any potential unfavorable situation that might arise from this whole chain of events. Best case scenario in his mind is being on good terms with Big Daddy and his Reapers, so that they’d be more likely to provide information willingly, without being expected to take part in whatever nonsense they get themselves into.

Gearing slowly starts moving his head, and focus, around towards the different areas outside as he talks, keeping apprised of everything going on out there as he explains his point of view. “Around Megamac, I’d barely gotten any information besides a name and a lot of fanfillying over said name. So all that did was give me a footnote to look into later… I got a lot more information from Silver Shoes, Orchid, and the rest of the group of Freight Cars that were there after I dug myself out of the rubble of that building. Once they realized I was with Iron Hoof, they were all too happy to chatter and share information as we cleared out one building after another on the way back to the crash site.” Gearing shakes his head as he smirks, “The level of hero worship those fillies were gushing was like they were talking about the second coming of Rainbow Dash herself…”

He pauses as he looks at the large wire dome at the end of the field where he’s sure official bouts are fought. “So that gave me the expectation that the Reapers were an elite fighting force that split their time between training, and kicking ass of whichever group that others couldn’t handle.” He glances at Big Daddy and gets a slight shrug in response, so he goes back to examining the goings on outside of the window. “But that’s all second hand information. Useful, but not enough to really make any judgments. Even as a ‘first impression’ because I hadn’t really had any interactions with them.” He quickly glances over at Big Daddy and adds, “Meeting you at Megamac doesn’t count because I didn’t know who you were at the time.” Then he stares at a few ponies down below hoof wrestling as he says, “Which means my first impression… was No Shoes trying to rob and extort me… and using the Reapers to do it.”

Gearing looks over at Big Daddy, and notices that Big Daddy is simply staring back at him, albeit over his sunglasses. But Gearing realizes the buck is old, wise, and considerate enough for Gearing to actually say his piece. And that Big Daddy seems to have noted that Gearing’s not even nearly done with his analysis as he’d just now gotten to his own ‘first impression’, let alone anything else. Gearing sees the thoughtfulness of it as a positive sign and gives a slight nod before turning and looking out the window again. “You see, the biggest part of my job during the war was threat analysis… Collect all of the information I could about a particular individual, or group, from every source I could. Then weigh it all based on various criteria, including how trustworthy the source itself was. And then deal with any threats that I could, or make recommendations on how to mitigate them. In whichever way deemed appropriate.” Gearing waves a hoof as he rattles off, “Mark them as harmless if that’s what came up. Have them arrested. Call in a strike. Buy them off or sell them out. Whatever was deemed the best choice for each situation.”

“Take their head off by smashing it straight through a sheet of solid steel?” Big Daddy asks as he gives a slight grin around his cigar.

Gearing lets out a sigh as he looks around. “Look, I didn’t want any part of that. It wasn’t my idea. No Shoes forced me into it.”

“And you stomped his head straight through the train car before I could even get my drink,” Big Daddy says matter of factly as he swirls what’s left of his current drink for emphasis.

“Again, his idea.” He waves a hoof around. “Well, I mean, I gave him a chance to back out, but made it perfectly clear what the stakes were.” He shakes his head. “He was just too busy being stuck on stupid to listen. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life worrying about our foals getting kidnapped or murdered because of some greedy dumb ass. I’m not gonna do it.”

The two look at each other for a few moments as Gearing can feel the tension rising in the room thick enough to choke a normal pony.

Gearing pointedly turns away from Big Daddy, showing him his back, as he continues on. “I take it as a matter of personal pride, and prudent attentiveness, that no matter what an individual does, I do not blame whatever group they are a part of just for the individual’s actions. It doesn’t matter what group you use as a sample, inside of that group is going to be a ‘worst of the worst’ even among the most righteous. And it wouldn’t be right to punish the rest for some idiot’s fuckups.”

“And what about the Wild Ones?” Big Daddy asks, drawing Gearing’s immediate attention. Big Daddy grins widely as sees the reaction. “What? Didn’t think I’d hear about that? You went from just meeting them to a kill on sight mentality in the course of minutes. Because one shot you down? How do you reconcile that with your ‘prudent attentiveness’?” He waves it away with a hoof and leans back as he appears rather pleased with himself. “Don’t get me wrong, they deserved it whether you realized it at the time or not… But it does contradict what you just said.”

“First, that wasn’t one of them.” Gearing says with his eyes instantly narrowed. “It was a large group of them. They were working in tandem in that ambush. It was coordinated. They were working to herd us into even worse crossfire. So the group as a whole was taking part in it. But, you know what, despite that… if that was it… I would have left the rest of them alone. I would have dealt with the ones actively trying to kill us, and leave it at that.”

This time it’s Gearing’s opportunity to be self pleased at Big Daddy’s reaction.

“What, didn’t expect that?”

“No, and I don’t think I really believe it either,” Big Daddy says as he chews on his cigar.

Gearing shrugs as he looks at him. “It’s a fact… But then that wasn’t all that happened, as I’m sure you know.” Getting nothing further from Big Daddy, Gearing continues, “I heard the drugged out fiends talking among themselves. I also got more information from various Freight Cars. And the shit I heard made me sick. So, yeah, they are kill on sight for me.” He tilts his head and grins. “Just like they are kill on sight for all of the Freight Cars and Reapers…” He waves his hoof at Big Daddy and adds, “If I found out about it in that short of time, and you already have them listed as free game, then you already know the sick shit they’ve done for sure.”

“That’s the reason you slaughtered them wholesale?” Big Daddy asks as he arcs one of his whitening eyebrows.

“All of it combined, yes. It wasn’t a single act. Nor a single individual. The group, as a whole, was rotten to the core.” He tilts his head as he follows up. “But you already knew that part, didn’t you?”

Big Daddy grins around his cigar as he takes in a deep breath. “Of course.”

“And, for an example going the other way…” He motions towards his rifle. “Few bucks made the mistake of shooting at us… I managed to convince them that knocking it off would not only be better for everyone involved, but for their life expectancy too.”

Big Daddy chuckles as he asks, “That a fact?”

Gearing nods. “Well, the first couple weren’t very cooperative, so they were dealt with… the last buck was smart enough to see the writing on the walls and listen to reason… And from what I can tell thus far, he spread the word and kept up their end of the bargain. None of their group has tried anything else since then. So I consider the matter settled.” He looks at Big Daddy a bit longer before adding quietly, “During the war I was in the thick of it. For long stretches at a time. I’ve seen shit that’d make a goat vomit. But, regardless of everything that happened, even how the world ended up… I do not hold any grudges against the zebra. Certain ones? Sure. I know for a fact some lived far longer than would be karmic… But then, the same could definitely be said for a good number of ponies too… Especially those self important uptight asshole nobles.”

The last comment draws a snort of amusement from Big Daddy before he sips from his drink again.

“So, no, I don’t blame groups for the actions of an individual. Never have, never will. If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now because I’d make it a point of avoiding the lot of you. Because No Shoes did, and without question, make a point of making himself an unavoidable threat to me and those I care about. Unlike that dumbass, I don’t make enemies of people unnecessarily. That’s a really moronic move. And that’s not even factoring in the fact that, eventually, you’re most likely going to piss someone off that you really shouldn’t and end up with your head getting knocked off for you.” Gearing waves towards Big Daddy with a hoof. “I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about… And have had to knock the heads off of more than a few ponies who started trouble with you and obviously didn’t know who they were fucking with.”

“Ohhh yeaahhh…” Big Daddy confirms with a single nod as he chuckles. Though the comment sounds extra pleased with the analysis. But then Big Daddy adds, “Sometimes somepony shows they’re just a bit too psycho to be left around. And we have to cull the raider population every so often because there’s just no reasoning with them. So they gotta go too and for the same reason.”

Gearing looks over at Big Daddy and a smile works its way up his muzzle as that’s not only new information, but pleasant to hear for him. And, potentially, something he can use to his advantage. And soon at that. “Right. So.” He looks out the window again and waves towards the ponies down below with a forehoof. “And then I get here…” He takes in a deep breath, and he can feel Big Daddy’s intense stare at his back.

Gearing looks over to where there’s a bonfire, surrounded by what he assumes are Burner Boys. “And at the front gate you have a weapon’s check station. Not for all weapons, just ranged weapons. So no one accidentally gets hurt if a beef breaks out into a full on fight. But those coming and going are trotting around just as casually as they would have 200 years ago… and inside here, there’s lots of aggressiveness. Being actively encouraged at that. But, it’s all organized chaos: despite the fighting and injuries there’s a lot of care taken. All of these groups have come together for a common goal. And the strength here, of the ponies in general, is statistically ahead of the curve from what I know as standard. Which means, you’ve been siphoning off the best ponies for your own crew. You’ve been pirating the muscle from the surrounding gangs, thus lowering their strength and limiting what they can do. And, with all of the perks, and name recognition, it seems you’ve made the Reapers a prestigious organization. Something that people aren’t just clamoring to, to avoid getting their ass kicked by you, but because it’s genuinely something to aspire to. It’s not simply a matter of being the most feared bad ass gang in all of Hoofington. Because there is definitely a difference between fear and respect, but you’ve managed to deeply inspire both. You’re not all trying to just kill each other just for the sake of it, you’re improving yourselves. You’ve pretty much made a game of it. But, like with games in general, you have your rules you follow and a strong sense of sportsmanship… You might be kicking the crap out of each other, but it’s all in good fun without animosity for each other in the process. You’ve forged genuine camaraderie even among members of various opposing groups.”

Gearing turns back around towards Big Daddy, and pointedly sits down, before he says, “So. I get it… The Reapers are a product of the times… and from what I can tell, over all, its mere existence is improving the Hoofington wasteland… Given what all I’d seen, and with you all existing and ‘being a thing’… I can imagine how bad the area was before you, and how bad it would be without you… so… I get it.” He tilts his head and asks with a smirk, “So, how’d I do? Did I hit the nail on the head, or did I miss something?”

Big Daddy takes a long drag from the cigar, then blows it out in a puff of smoke, right towards Gearing. And as his lips curl into a smile, the ring he’d blown grows and perfectly encircles Gearing’s head as it washes over him. “A pretty good bullseye actually,” Big Daddy comments with a chuckle. “I didn’t expect you to be a ‘big picture’ kinda buck based on your hard line stances and how quickly you seem to pass judgment.”

Gearing shrugs. “I’ve had a lot of practice…” He lets out a sigh. “I have a general code to follow. Rules and regulations. But, snap decision making isn’t only expected, it’s mandatory.” He waves a hoof towards the window as he looks down. “If you get intel that a buck is carrying a bomb, you have to make a decision. And you have to take in all of the available information, weigh the risks, and make a decision based on your goals. Sometimes the information is wrong. Sometimes it was a distraction… Sometimes that might cost an innocent buck his life… But that’s the cost of playing the game… The term they used was ‘Collateral Damage’… as if that euphemism made it better…” He stares Big Daddy in the eyes. “But that was also reality. Because the other possibility is that the buck intended on detonating it in the middle of a crowded mall, concert, or school.” He taps on the floor, hard. “As an officer you are put in a scenario, and you are expected to make a decision. And, typically, there is no clear cut black and white answer. And you gotta make your decision quick, because delays and indecision can be far more fatal.” He shakes his head. “My tactics have always involved starting from the least damaging and working my way up from there.”

“And that bounty hunter you stomped on right in front of Megamart?” Big Daddy asks, but the smile on his face wavers just a bit as the question doesn’t even seem to faze Gearing.

“I put myself in that position looking at the big picture. Every single one I can convince and avoid fighting, by convincing it won’t be worth it, is one less individual I have to deal with later. They get removed from the equation. The asshole in question demonstrated his unwillingness to change by trying to kill me. But he gave me an opportunity to convince many others to give up their bullshit.” Gearing shrugs. “His death saved dozens, if not hundreds, of lives. And countless lives in the long run.” He lets out a sigh and brings up another point, “Words are the lowest costing attempt. I always start with them. And only progress from there if words fail.” He waves towards the window as he says with another sigh. “I tried to convince No Shoes when he challenged me and tried to extort me. He wouldn’t listen. His mind was made up. It wouldn’t budge… Words failed. And the end result of him losing his life is because of that and I had few other alternatives.”

“Like not killing him over a property challenge?” Big Daddy asks.

“Like killing everyone to make sure there was no one left to try and extort me again?” Gearing asks quickly and gets a surprised look from Big Daddy as a result. Gearing waves his hoof around. “It was another big picture situation, Big Daddy. That challenge and all of the Reaper rights and rules was sprung on me out of nowhere. I had no idea where it would end. I had no idea what else would be dropped on me. Nor if it really was an actual rule or just some bullshit that was being played on me by a group who was going to keep changing the rules to make sure the house wins. So I had to kill No Shoes to set a high cost of entry for trying that shit again. Again, showing that it just ain’t worth it. Just like that bounty hunter that tried to skewer me. Otherwise I could have been challenged one after another after another after another and, eventually, that would have crossed the line at some point and I’d just have to deal with the whole group.” He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t want it to come to that. And that’s why I left in the middle of the night. To remove the conflict from the equation so nopony else had to die.”

Big Daddy downs the rest of his drink and sets it on the end table next to the couch before leaning back and puffing on his cigar thoughtfully. After a few more smoke rings are blown up towards the ceiling, with his eyes glued on Gearing, he asks, “So… that’s the real reason you came here, huh? To see if you could talk your way out of whatever you think you’ve gotten yourself into… but if not, we got a problem?”

Gearing closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath before letting it out long and slow. “Look, I didn’t want any part of that fight with No Shoes. I did everything I could to get out of it. I wasn’t trying to fight the Reapers. I wasn’t trying to become a Reaper.” He flicks a hoof towards the window as he says, “You’ve got hundreds of ponies practically killing themselves to do exactly that.” He taps on his own articulated chest plates as he says, “I don’t want it!” He shakes his head and leans in as he says, “Big Daddy, I’m the wrong buck for the job. I hate fighting… I hate killing. I can’t fucking stand it.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying I find that very hard to believe given your history,” Big Daddy comments evenly as he waves his cigar at Gearing.

Gearing looks down as he says softly, “I have… killed… more people… in the last week alone… than I did during the entire war…” He looks up at Big Daddy and narrows his eyes. “And I’m not pulling some bigoted shit here… If you tallied up the souls of every single zebra, griffin, pony, or any other sentient creature… If you added them all up, the ones I killed- I had to kill… the number is far smaller than the lives I’ve had to take this past week alone…” He waves a hoof off to the side. “Back then I had options… Now my only options are trying to convince them to change… letting them continue their rampage of causing others misery… or killing them… that’s it.”

Big Daddy pulls out his cigar and twirls it on his forehoof a bit as he looks at it and asks, “So, what, you want out of being a Reaper? That’s your whole reason for coming here?”

“I didn’t want it in the first place and didn’t even know that was a thing until well after the fact,” Gearing replies as he looks straight at Big Daddy.

A sly grin crosses Big Daddy’s muzzle before he pops his cigar back into his mouth. He lets out a throaty cackle before he asks around the burning embers, “What if I told you that Security will be joining us soon?”

---

Okay, that’s just plain MEAN, ya big bully!

Can you believe the NERVE of this guy?

I would make a joke about his smoking habits being the death of him, but I don’t want to give away too many spoilers.

[grabs another book off a nearby shelf]

[flips through pages]

Yeah, that’s what I THOUGHT… TANK you very much!

---

Gearing blinks a couple times. “Excuse me, what?”

“I’ve heard about your little escapades with disrupting the bounty hunters after her. Made a big deal about making yourself an obstacle to them. Smashing heads. Gunning them down.” Big Daddy chuckles as he waves a hoof around. “Just generally putting the fear of Nightmare Moon in them…” He leans towards Gearing and grins. “All to keep her safe. A pony you’ve never met. Is that the kinda pony that turns you into a fanfilly? Apparently Red Beard thinks you have the hots for her…”

Gearing finds himself lost in a sea of confusion. He shakes his head before he says, “She’s doing good work. Doing real good around The Hoof. Anyone that wants to off her for that’s gotta be a bad pony to begin with.” Gearing waves a hoof dismissively. “Not a hard line to set when you look at the big picture.” He tilts his head. “But, what about her? What’s this about her becoming a Reaper? That’s the first I’m hearing about it.”

Big Daddy nods as he leans back and is quite pleased at the attention this has garnered. “Yeah. She is.” He spits his cigar out onto his hoof, then points at Gearing with it. “See, you killed No Shoes. He was a Reaper. But he was the lowest on the scoreboard, because he just got in after all of the fights he’d been through.” He flicks the cigar up into the air, and deftly catches it between his teeth. He takes in a deep pull from it before he lets the cloud of smoke come out in a gush through his wide grin. “Security, on the other hoof, killed Gorgon… and he was in the top ten.”

Gearing stares at him for a few moments before asking quietly, “So that we’re all on the same page here. ‘Top Ten’ would mean… the strongest ten fighters you have, right? Highest ranked?” Big Daddy gives a slow solitary nod so Gearing looks off to the side as he finishes, “Right. Figured as much given the apparent meritocracy going on around here…” He taps on his chin a bit before he says quieter, “If he made it into the top ten, then, given how everyone else is below that, he’d have to be pretty damn tough… and if she beat him-”

“Means she’s even tougher than him and we want her in,” Big Daddy finishes Gearing’s thought for him while confirming it too.

“I see,” Gearing replies flatly.

Big Daddy waves it off with a forehoof as he says, “I sent one of the other top ten to go track her down and bring her here. With a hole in the top ten roster, that’s going to make some waves. We can’t have ponies thinking we’re getting soft. So she’s gonna join us.” He smiles as he says, “I’m sure she’ll join us, we’ve got a lot to offer her. Including helping her with this little bounty problem she has. Because if you fuck with one Reaper, you fuck with us all.”

“And, since you’re not into slaving,” Gearing ponders aloud, “she’d probably not have any problems with working with you.”

“No siree.”

Gearing holds up one foreleg with the other by resting it on his elbow while he taps on his chin with his free forehoof.

“Well?” Big Daddy asks with a genuine smile.

“I’m still the wrong buck for the job.”

The smile falls off Big Daddy’s face.

“Now, hold on a minute,” Gearing says as he waves a hoof towards Big Daddy. “I’m not saying I want nothing to do with you. And I’m certainly not planning on setting up some kind of rival operation.”

Big Daddy’s face darkens as he puffs on his cigar and obviously really doesn’t like this not going where he was expecting it to.

Gearing points out the window. “You’re entire shtick is being the biggest baddest badass gang around, right? No one wants to mess with you because they know the repercussions of it. Right?”

Big Daddy lets a malicious grin cross his muzzle as he nods agreement.

“Okay, see, that’s the problem?” Gearing says.

There’s a light of recognizance in Big Daddy’s eyes before he relaxes a bit and waves for Gearing to continue. “What are you seeing in this big picture of yours?”

Gearing grins warmly then nods as he’s hoping he can articulate it well enough. “I work better when no one knows me. I work better in the shadows. Where others don’t even know. If I’m so recognizable on sight, as the Reapers normally are, that will make me less effective at what I’m doing.”

“I’m pretty sure that cat’s out of the bag already. Especially with your gallivanting around pissing off slavers and bounty hunters left and right,” Big Daddy replies evenly, and reasonably.

Gearing nods his head around and lets out a long groan. “Valid… if I had my damn skin it wouldn’t be such an issue. I could just blend in easier.”

“So if you’re being recognized easily anyway, why not join? What’s the difference?” Big Daddy asks as he leans back into the couch and looks Gearing over.

Gearing looks at Big Daddy for a few moments before he says, “Because there’s a strong possibility that the things I’m going to be getting myself into, is going to be drawing a lot of agro my way. And if there’s a large organization attached to me, there’s the possibility that they’ll go after them, trying to hurt me in some way.” He taps on his chest as he says, “A single pony is fast, maneuverable, and can strike and disappear. An organization is big, slow, and an easy target.”

Big Daddy starts chuckling as he asks, “So, what, you’re concerned about us?! That you’ll get us dragged into something because of something you do?”

Gearing throws his wings up in the air, grabs the artificial sunlight coming in through the window with them, and sparkles it around himself as he strikes a pose. “Well, I am THE Glorious Bastard… I’m a professional at pissing people off. I’m talking weapons-grade thorn in flanks.”

“I believe it with the headache you’re giving me,” Big Daddy says with a chuckle as he’s putting out what is left of the stub of the cigar he’s been smoking on.

“Okay, so, hear me out…” Gearing says as he quickly, and brazenly, pulls out another cigar from the end table, and the lighter Big Daddy had used. Gearing holds the cigar with one wing, deftly cuts the tip off with a pair of his crystalline pinions from his other wing, and then holds it out for Big Daddy. Big Daddy smirks and accepts it watching Gearing carefully. Gearing flips the lighter and ignites it, holding the flame up for Big Daddy. Big Daddy lightly shakes his head, pops the cigar in his mouth, and leans in as Gearing lights the cigar for him. After Big Daddy gets it started with a strong ember, Gearing replaces the lighter and goes back to looking at Big Daddy as he settles back into the couch.

“Tell me what you think of this…” Gearing starts as he waves his wings off to the left side. “You already have Swift. We’ve talked about it before. And she’s a martial maniac. A pugilist at heart. She just loves a good fight.” Gearing points to the right with both wings. “So she’ll be a good fit with you all. I can’t really speak for her, but we’ve talked before. And she’s definitely interested in getting better and improving herself. That was her whole reason for traveling to Freight Cars territory after the fight at Megamac. And she’ll deny it, but she loves the attention and recognition for her skills. And if she runs into any serious problems, even if they come for you all, I’d likely end up getting involved just as a matter of course.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Big Daddy asks before he takes in a light puff of the cigar, tasting the smoke for a while before letting it out.

“At bare minimum, a nonaggression agreement,” Gearing says matter-of-factly.

Big Daddy starts laughing, loudly, before he leans sideways and points at Gearing. “With… you? Just… you?!” He waves a hoof around as he asks, “Isn’t that something you normally do with an organization?”

“Normally, yes. But I’m not a normal pony, and I think you know that. And, in the event your worst case scenario comes up and I do start up an organization, I’d be the one in charge of it and the agreement would not only stand but apply to whatever organization as well,” Gearing says flatly.

“And why wouldn’t we just stomp you into the ground instead of dealing with that nonsense?” Big Daddy asks point blank.

“Because you’d lose a lot in the process. And I’m not just talking about the number I’d probably remove from the chessboard before being taken out myself… Though that would be a large loss of life in the process that I’d rather we avoided… I’m an asset. You wanting me here at all proves you already know that. So… you can call in favors… and depending on what’s going on it might not be so much a favor as you just letting me know something I want to know and me taking care of it anyway.” He waves between them and adds, “And all I’m asking in return, is not to unnecessarily make us enemies… and some information here and there.” Gearing grins as he says, “And in return you get someone who’s capable of removing heads with hooves or guns in a matter of seconds if and when the need arises.” He stares at Big Daddy’s blank expression and ends up flailing his forelegs around as he says, “Awww come on! It’s a great deal! You know what a nonaggression agreement is, right?”

“Yeah, I do…” Big Daddy says as he slowly smokes his cigar. “We have a ceasefire agreement going with the Steel Rangers… but the way things have been going it won’t take much and we’ll be smashing Crunchy Carrots’ toys. One spark is all it’s going to take for all out war to break out.”

“Well, see… I don’t want there to be that kind of tension between us. There doesn’t need to be. And if you’re worried about me just coming back later for whatever reason… We’ll up the agreement…” Gearing comments reasonably. To the raised eyebrow he gets in response Gearing adds, “We’ll agree, that if something comes up between us that makes us pissed at the other, we’ll at least talk about it first. And nothing happens unless those communications break down, and both are fully aware of it at the point of leaving. There’ll be no sneak attacks. No blind sides. I don’t just arbitrarily screw people over, and have no intention of doing it to the Reapers.” He smiles as he shrugs. “I’m not from here. I don’t intend on staying around The Hoof. But just because I’m not going to be here, doesn’t mean there needs to be animosity between the Reapers and me. I mean, it’s not my arena after all.” He grins widely and leans sideways as he looks at Big Daddy expectantly.

Big Daddy just keeps looking at him.

Gearing slowly raises an eyebrow.

Big Daddy slowly raises an eyebrow in response.

The little pegasus in Gearing’s head comments, ‘I… don’t think he got the reference…’

Gearing blinks a few times before asking, “You know… like the Manehattan Maulers?”

Big Daddy’s eyes pop open a bit more before he asks, “What?”

Gearing waves his forehoof as he says slowly, “The Manehattan Maulers… ‘Not My Arena’?” He waves his hoof around to all of the newspapers around as he says, “Oh come on! That was clever!” To the blank expression Big Daddy gives him Gearing sighs and says, “The entire reason for the rivalry between the Hoofington Reapers and the Manehattan Maulers?”

“What?!” Big Daddy asks in genuine surprise, and that just draws a smile from Gearing that grows by the second.

“Wait, you didn’t know?!” Gearing asks with a wide smile across his muzzle. Big Daddy looks around a bit, trying to get some kind of direction for the conversation, then just shrugs. Gearing prances around in a circle towards the window while chuckling to himself. He turns around, and starts walking and wobbling as he says with his voice doing an impersonation of a really old pony, “You ain’t hear tell of what all started the fight between the Reapers and the Maulers? Well now! Let this geriatric old relic tell you young whippersnapper a thing or two.”

Big Daddy snorts an inhale in amusement, and ends up coughing. And the coughing devolves into laughing as Gearing seems to take on the persona of a pensioner.

Gearing sits down and waves a hoof at Big Daddy, “It was neigh on over 200 years ago… during the great war! When the grass was green, the sky was blue, and coal prices were higher than a noble’s snobby nose!” He points over to one of the newspapers with the Manehatten Maulers and comments, “There was a great player that got drafted. And not in the military. They got brought on up to the professionals here in Hoofington… They became a Reaper!” He waves a hoof around at all of the memorabilia. “Oh, but that’s just the beginning, not the happy ending, no siree bob… Because this player, was reeaaaallly superstitious… They swore that Hoofington was full of evil spirits. That they could hear their screams! The Hoofington bowl scared the shoes off them it did!” He chuckles then waves off to the side. “So, despite just getting signed to a contract, they did everything they could to get away from Hoofington. They paid a slew of fines and penalties but managed it. They even refused to do any public events in Hoofington. And this made a lot of ponies around the Hoof mighty sore. They felt snubbed. So when they signed up for the Manehattan Maulers, a lot of folks took it personal.” Gearing points over to a newspaper of a match between the Maulers and Reapers. “That first match between the Maulers and Reapers since they jumped teams, was here in Hoofington. And that match had the highest fouls and penalties of any single game in professional hoofball history… almost exclusively committed by the Reapers.”

Big Daddy leans in, his attention focused and Gearing can’t help but smile as he sees the buck’s genuine glee at hearing about it.

“The Reapers wiped the floor with that pony. But, they never gave up. It didn’t deter them. And even though several Reaper players got ejected from the game for getting in foul trouble, the game went on. The Reapers lost that match because they were too focused on punishing the pony they felt snubbed and disrespected them.” Gearing nods before he says, “The next game was at Manehattan’s arena… And even though the pony was still beat up from the last match, they still played. They never backed down. And the Maulers won that match too. And during one of the interviews they were asked about how things were going and if they were worried about the continued abuse from the Reapers. The pony went on to ask everyone to respect the players, and the sport. That they had no ill will towards the Reapers. That them leaving Hoofington was a personal choice, with their own personal circumstances and it had nothing to do with the Reaper players nor the fans of Hoofington. They smiled for the cameras and said they looked forward to playing them again. And they hoped everyone understood that. They’d said there doesn’t need to be any animosity between the Reapers and them. And said ‘It’s not my arena, after all. My home is in Manehattan.’ And even after that the only time they went to Hoofington, was to play the Reapers, but they never missed a match. And it didn’t take long for the grudge to fade away and the teams to get back to enjoying the game again.”

Gearing stands on his hindlegs and waves his forehoof around above him as he says, "And that’s the story of how a single superstitious pony caused grudge matches between a pair of teams, only to have it evolve into a respectful rivalry where teamwork and sportsmanship were held in highest regard.” Gearing looks down at Big Daddy and smirks as he says, “They still kicked the crap out of each other… but it wasn’t out of animosity. Just in good fun.”

Big Daddy grins as he asks, “Where’d you learn all that at?”

Gearing shrugs as he sits back down on the floor. “I knew a guy that was a hard core Maulers fan. That buck was a walking fountain of trivia and would spew facts over anyone that’d listen. He put the ‘fan’ in fanatical. Never missed a home game, regardless of what was going on, and even took vacation one time so he could travel around and watch away games too.”

Big Daddy leans back and looks up at the ceiling as he blows a puff of smoke upwards. “Imagine that…”

Gearing leans towards Big Daddy sideways and grins as he says, “Imagine just letting me remove the conflict from the equation so we both come out ahead.” Big Daddy lowers his head just enough to smirk at Gearing’s segue. “You just mentioned you have a beef with the Steel Rangers. I’ve heard a lot of shit about them that makes me not exactly all smiles to be around them either. If shit blows up between you two, well, I’ve had a lot of experience with their equipment.” He holds up his PipBuck. “I can fuck up their tech pretty good if it comes to that too. And I know how to get around armor.”

Big Daddy straightens up as he asks, “You saying you’re willing to go to war against the Steel Rangers when it comes to it?”

Gearing waves a hoof at him as he narrows his eyes. “I’ve said, repeatedly, I don’t blame entire groups for the actions of a few… but if there’s some that are disgusting monsters I’ll deal with them…” They stare at each other for a few moments before Gearing says, “I don’t know enough about them yet. All I’ve heard is that they hoard tech and that they have a bad habit of taking it from others… forcefully.”

Big Daddy starts laughing as he leans towards him. “That’s sugar coating it. They’ve been known to shoot first and not bother asking questions. Any tech they find is theirs. No one else’s. They think tech is the cause of the war. They say they don’t want it to happen again, so they keep it away from everypony else. But then they call everypony else ‘tribal’ and would rather kill a pony than help them.”

“Got any specific instances of it?”

Big Daddy stares at him for a few moments before relaxing back into the seat. “Yeah… I remember Crunchy Carrots stomping and smashing a Water Talisman, instead of letting anyone else use it, for any purpose.”

“That bitch!” Gearing yells as his eyes go wide. “With how scarce clean water is? The hell?! How many fucking lives were lost because of that crazy bitch!?”

Big Daddy’s eyes go wide as he sees Gearing’s outburst, and a very pleased smile grows across his muzzle. “Oh, now that attitude I like… I like that…” He casually takes a pull from his cigar, enjoying the taste, and turn of the conversation, before he says, “That’s their whole religion… And she did that before she brought a whole mob of them up here to back her up.”

“So they really do kill civilians and scavengers, just for the tech they have?”

Big Daddy nods as he enjoys his cigar. “And that’s not limited to the Hoof. Though some chapters are more fanatical than others.”

Gearing looks at him and says softly, “Then there’s another reason not to be a Reaper… because if I see’em doing it. I’ll mail them straight to Tartarus. Care of Nightmare Moon.” Gearing grins maliciously. “And if I’m not a Reaper… it won’t be breaking the ceasefire agreement between you two.”

Big Daddy frowns lightly as he says, “That’s a bit of a dishonest workaround, isn’t it?”

Gearing waves his hoof between the two as he says, “This entire conversation has been about me not wanting and not being a Reaper… so not really.”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow. “But would you help us when the time comes?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath then lets it out in a sigh. “I’ll take out the ones that really need to be taken out, if that time comes. So in that sense, yes. If you don’t want to help now. Fine. Just let me know when shit goes down and where to find the worst of the worst and I’ll start thinning the herd.”

“I thought you said you don’t like to kill?”

“I don’t, but what the hell else am I going to do? Lock them in the brig?” Gearing retorts.

Big Daddy laughs. “Yeah. Good luck with that…”

“Right?” Gearing asks as he sighs. “Look. I’m not promising to go on a one horse stampede over the whole group. But I can do targeted strikes, and take out the hotheads that cause too much trouble. I’ll keep an ear and eye out and see what I can see, and if any of them have, or are, crossing the line I’ll deal with them.”

“I’d prefer if you’d hold off on that. Let them fuck it up.” Big Daddy grins widely. “It’ll make it all the more satisfying when ‘the savage tribals’ were the ones that kept the agreement, but stomped Ranger ass for breaking it.”

Gearing tilts his head as he looks at Big Daddy, and after a moment a smile grows across his muzzle. He waves casually with a forehoof as he says, “Sure, Big Daddy. If that’s what you want, you got it. Just let me know when you want to take the kid gloves off.” He raises an eyebrow as he asks, “But is that just the local group, or all Steel Rangers? Remember, my old decrepit ass gets around…”

Big Daddy chuckles as he waves it away with a dismissive hoof. “The agreement was with Crunchy Carrots’ Rangers. Outside of the bowl, it’s no hair off my tail…”

Gearing grins. “Excellent.” Big Daddy chuckles again and Gearing follows up with, “You got a similar agreement with the Finders? I mean I ran into Roadie, one of Bottlecaps’ caravanner bucks, and he was headed here to do some trading so… How’s that all working out?”

Big Daddy chuckles as he waves his cigar around. “The Finders are a bit of a mix. You got Finders Keepers, an old lech more interested in collecting caps and flank slapping every mare he meets than doing anything else, who started the whole group. They have three branches, run by his three daughters. You have Caprice out in Flank, her specialty is serving vices… every kind of chem or drink imaginable, along with a rather busy brothel. The town is packed with junkies, but generally nothing for us to worry about. Then you got Usury, out in Paradise Mall… who you already know a bit about.” Big Daddy chuckles lightly as he sees Gearing’s eyes narrow. “Yeah. She sells ponies. There’s not much else to say.” He taps on his chin as he muses aloud, “Though she’s been growing her operation more and more and getting a bit full of herself lately because of Red Eye’s money coming in. She’s greedy enough that her head’s going to get too big for her neck and we’re going to have to buck it right off her shoulders for her at this rate. Her crew just keeps getting bigger and with all of their guns and support from Red Eye they seem to be thinking they’re invincible. Which means they’re going to do something stupid…” Big Daddy shrugs as he goes back to puffing on his cigar. “And lastly there’s Bottlecap, in Megamart… She’s got a lot of ponies working for her, and a lot of influence. Their trade caravans travel further and further each day. But she’s no serious threat, because all they are interested in is trade.” He waves his hoof around. “Not like, just making money, not like the others, she’s more interested in just moving things around constantly. Getting crap from people that don’t want it to places where people need it. She’s got a lot of ponies, guns, ammo, and equipment…” He slowly shakes his head as he smiles weakly. “But they aren’t fighters… not real fighters.” He waves his hoof around. “So we got an agreement. Bottlecap helps keep us stocked, and makes sure her traders are generous with their prices to us… And in return, anyone that causes them too many problems, we explain to them why that’s a bad idea. And if they don’t get it at first, we keep explaining it until they finally get the idea.” He leans forward as he adds, “Like this little upstart shitty ass no name gang… Most of them came here looking for riches from Manehatten or wherever… Couldn’t get rich quick enough so they started hitting caravans and shit. Mallet went and had a conversation with them. Took out one of their ambush parties and smashed the leader’s hindlegs with that hammer of hers while she explained how things work in the Hoof.” Big Daddy waves his hoof around as he shakes his head. “The others scattered. But apparently they didn’t learn their lesson, they just moved to a different area. We got a lot of other stuff going on with raiders popping up all over and causing problems. Even the Steel Ranger’s are having trouble with them. So I’m going to have to crush that little group of theirs soon since they don’t seem to learn and want to get with the program. They have like, forty ponies in their crew, and they think they’re a match for us? They think they can hijack caravans, piss us off, and we won’t do something about it?” He shakes his head and leans back in the couch as he grins. “That’s not going to stand. No siree… They aren’t worth calling for a full Stomp, obviously, I’ll just send a couple on a traveling training exercise to clean up the mess.” He grins around the cigar. “It shouldn’t take long.” He waves his hoof off towards the south as he says, “They got their warning to straighten up. They blew it. Now comes the pain.”

Gearing follows Big Daddy’s hoof, and looks in that direction. He looks back and forth before he lifts his leg and checks his PipBuck. He looks from the map display, to the direction Big Daddy had pointed as he’s double checking his bearings. He looks over at Big Daddy, who’s taken note of his sudden and strange behavior, and asks, “Out Miramare way?”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow before waving in that direction again. “A bit further than that, but that way yeah, why?”

Gearing smirks as he gets up and walks over near Big Daddy. “It… it wouldn’t happen to have been around… this area… would it?” Gearing asks as he points to an area on his PipBuck’s map.

Big Daddy looks at it, then swirls around on the map quickly to double check area landmarks, before he nods. “Yeah, actually… How’d you figure that out?”

Gearing closes out of the PipBuck and asks sheepishly, “The problems… they recent?”

Big Daddy raises an eyebrow before he asks, “Well, reports been trickling in and getting worse. But they’ve been ramping up, and getting more brazen. Last attack I’ve heard about in the area was from a little over a week ago. But there’s no reason to think it’d slow down any.”

Gearing gives him a sheepish grin. “Weellll… Don’t expect to hear anything more about it… And don’t worry about sending anyone to go take care of it… not necessary.”

Big Daddy chuckles as he asks, “Oh? You planning on going there and checking them off your list yourself?”

“Kinda… already… did,” Gearing says sheepishly as he taps his forehooves together and gives Big Daddy a nervous smile.

Big Daddy sits up straight as he asks, “What!? When?!”

“Uhm… a little over a week ago…” Gearing says. “About a week…” Gearing shrugs lightly before he says, “A group a little over three dozen in strength tried to attack a convoy with foals in it… At least one of them was a murderous pedophile… So… Yeah…” Gearing gives a sheepish smile as he says, “If you heard about that pile of weapons and equipment that I sold at Megamart…” He waves in the same direction Big Daddy had. “That’s… that’s where I got it… heh…”

Big Daddy takes a slow long drag from his cigar as he eyeballs Gearing. “By yourself too, right?” Gearing nods. “All of them.” Gearing nods again. Big Daddy leans back and starts laughing loudly on the border of becoming obnoxious. “And you keep trying to tell me you’re the wrong buck for the job!” He shakes his head. “Considering I saw you at the Freight Cars’ Junction, and the distance to Megamart, that couldn’t have taken you more than an evening!” He laughs even louder, crossing into full on obnoxious territory as he says, “What? You were just passing on through, saw a whole decent sized gang, and thought to yourself ‘Eh, there’s only like forty of them, I got time.’ And then killed them all and took their shit?”

Gearing opens his mouth to retort as he points a hoof at him. But he closes it. He opens and closes it a few times as he keeps trying to say something else, but stops. After a few cycles of this, with Big Daddy cackling in his face, Gearing says, “Well… you’re not wrooong… But it just sounds so weird when you put it like that! It’s weird! You’re making it weird!”

Big Daddy slows his cackling long enough to take a puff as he’s looking at Gearing. He lets the smoke out before he asks, “The kids alright?”

Gearing nods quickly. “Oh, yeah. Notta hair so much as singed.”

“Well, that’s good,” Big Daddy says as he pulls the cigar out of his mouth and examines it while he thinks.

“So, yeah…” Gearing starts before he clears his throat unnecessarily. “Ahem… How about you guys take credit for that?” Big Daddy’s eyes jump over to him, and Gearing continues, “You have that agreement with Bottlecap and the Finders… You were just telling me you were planning on stomping them anyway… so… ta daaaa… stomp complete!” Gearing grins as he throws his forehooves out to the side and strikes a pose like that. “Mission accomplished. Obligations fulfilled.” He waves both hooves as he says, “And, hey, as for the raiders… just feed me info, and I can take care of them, no problem. I can’t get infected, so I’m the best choice. And whatever bandits that cross the line too. Then the Reapers can get credit while reminding everyone what badasses they are. So I just keep taking them out, Reapers get the credit, and then that means the Finders, along with everyone else really, will have less problems at the same time. It’s a win-win all around!” He shrugs before he says sheepishly, “Well, I mean, except for the raiders and asshole bandits that won’t straighten up… Because they’ll be dead… But their opinion don’t count anyways…”

“Reapers only take credit for what Reapers do,” Big Daddy says with a grin.

Gearing deflates a bit before he says, “Well, crap… It was a thought… Valid point though…” Gearing takes in a deep breath before he says, “Speaking of the Finders, I have a question that may be related to the conversation.”

“Oh?” Big Daddy asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Gearing looks around at the floor before he says, “Hypothetically speaking… What if one of the Finders ended up on my list for being a backstabbing fuckwit that tried to get me, Swift, and her husband Handy killed?”

Big Daddy’s eyes narrow as his face darkens a bit as he slowly draws from the cigar. He learns towards Gearing, getting right in his face as he releases the smoke and asking with a flat, but menacing tone, “What happened?”

And, hoping that he’s reading the situation right, Gearing tells Big Daddy the whole tale. Starting off with the initial disappearance and continuing on through the rescue, the clean up, the deal for information, and the subsequent nightmare that they ran into underground as a result. And quickly follows up with the trio’s thoughts and theories on it.

Although he does leave the whole fiasco surrounding Chapel out of it, as it’s not only a memory he’d rather not think about but, thankfully for him, it doesn’t actually pertain to the situation he’s talking about.

Big Daddy has been staring at him intently the entire time. Listening as he slowly smoked and paid attention to every detail. Gearing almost felt like he was being interrogated, or was giving an after action debriefing to someone that really didn’t like what they were hearing and might, just might, make him suffer for it. But when Gearing finishes, Big Daddy eases back into the couch and continues to puff as he thinks it through and looks up at the ceiling. After a bit, and Gearing giving him all the time he needs to process it, Big Daddy chuckles dryly, “That whole thing sounds like it sucked.” He chuckles a bit more. “Although I coulda told ya to stay the hell away from the Core. Anypony could. Shoulda asked a foal.”

Gearing narrows his eyes and frowns lightly. “Thanks for the insight, oh guru of the mountain. I would have never figured that out on my own.”

Big Daddy chuckles before he brings his eyes from the ceiling back down to look at Gearing. “I won’t blow smoke up your tail and say it can’t happen… Greed does shit to weak ponies. So, it’s possible. And if it did happen, that’s going to make things real complicated. So I hope you’re wrong. But, I really don’t think he did it on purpose.”

“You just saying that to avoid things getting complicated by you getting involved, or do you have reason to not think so?”

Big Daddy chuckles as he says, “Oh, don’t you worry none, I’m not trying to avoid a fight.” He leans to the side and shows off his horseshoe cutie mark. “I love a good fight. Always have. So, no. Besides, Bottlecap would be just as pissed if it’s true.” He puffs on his cigar a few times as he regards Gearing. “Lodestar’s got a reputation of being able to get from one place to another as quickly and safely as possible. That’s his special talent.” He rolls the cigar to the side of his mouth and points a hoof at Gearing. “I know for a fact that he’s hauled some pretty high end cargo, because they hired some Reapers for extra security, and not a thing went missing. Ever. He’s not a greedy buck. Every trip he splits the profits among the whole caravan. His crew is stable and he keeps the same ponies on trip after trip if he can. He knows details about them like they’re family. And he’s generous with both praise and caps. A greedy buck willing to sell out his own caravan so he doesn’t have to share ain’t like that.” Big Daddy chuckles as he waves towards the windows. “There’s been a few times that he’s asked for extra security, and the jobs so sweet that a couple Reapers have ended up getting challenged for the right to take the job.” He relaxes back into the couch as he shakes his head and says, “So I really don’t see it.”

Gearing frowns as he looks around before he ends up staring at the windows. “Got any suggestions on what I should do?”

“Well first off, if you find out for sure that he did, I want to know. He needs to be dealt with then. Beyond that?” Big Daddy shrugs. “I’d say look into it more. Talk with him. Try to figure out a way to get him to tell you one way or another what’s going down.” Big Daddy chuckles before he says, “But kindly don’t just blow the place up, please. I just got a bill from Bottlecap for the damages from the last time one of my numbskulls started a fight in there.”

“Well, gee, thanks,” Gearing replies. “I’ll make sure to limit the explosions to when I catch him outside and see if he can hit the moon from here.”

“If he did it,” Big Daddy adds with a puff of smoke for emphasis.

“Right, if he really did sell us out,” Gearing replies.

Big Daddy nods before he asks, “Got any other questions for me?”

Gearing looks at him for a few moments, and then shrugs as he asks, “Yeah, what kinda eyes did they give you?”

Big Daddy pauses puffing on his cigar as he asks, “What?”

Gearing points at Big Daddy’s sunglasses. “I thought about asking back at Megamac but didn’t wanna be rude to someone I just met, especially because of what it might mean.” He shrugs. “There’s only a couple I know of that’d cause something like that. But there’s apparently a few.” He tilts his head as he asks, “So, did the zebra give you a fetish, or curse you?”

Big Daddy uses a hoof to lower his sunglasses, and stares at Gearing. “There’s more than this? You’ve seen’em before?”

Gearing bobs his head around. “Well, yeah. I’ve gotten around a lot.” He waves a hoof dismissively. “Whether it’s helpful or not depends on what the zebra meant to do… I knew one mare that got cursed by a zebra witchdoctor. It fucked with her vision and gave her double vision. But one of them was a few seconds faster than the other. Like, see what’s about to happen kinda craziness. She slowly got used to it and started taking advantage of it. But, eventually, and like a few others, the other sight took over and it was all she could see.” He shrugs. “Was a really weird form of blindness where she could get around normally, as long as things weren’t moving around her.” He smirks as he says, “She eventually got stuck in a clerical job, because the words and files wouldn’t run away from her… as she put it.”

Big Daddy stops smoking and just stares at Gearing as he tries to figure out if Gearing’s blowing smoke up his tail.

“So, what they do? I doubt it’s night vision,” Gearing prods.

Big Daddy chuckles as he looks around. “Actually I’m not sure what the crazy bastard did to me. Threw some glowing sand in my face, and next thing I know I see shit when I focus on other ponies.” He glares at Gearing over his sunglasses, with his glowing eyes in full view. “But, it lets me see exactly who a pony really is.”

Gearing stares back at him for a few moments before a smug grin crosses his muzzle. “Oh… That’s helpful.” He sits prim and proper as he stares at Big Daddy with the smug grin turning especially pleased. “So what are your eyes telling you about me? As if I didn’t know…”

Big Daddy smirks and then starts staring at Gearing. And Gearing, to his credit, doesn’t even move. He matches stare for stare as he waits for the verdict with happy anticipation. Big Daddy’s face screws up a few times as he obviously tries to make sense of what he’s seeing. After a bit longer of this he finally exhales. “Shadows and secrets.”

Gearing’s smug grin slowly fades off as that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. “Huh?”

“You’re made of shadows held together by secrets. Secrets from others. Secrets even from yourself. You have shadows all over you. Hell, they seem like they’re pouring out between your bits. Your body’s casting shadows. Many shadows. But they’re all different. You got shadows crawling around and enveloping you. Eating up any light that tries to touch you. Stars keep trying, but the shadows keep eating them. And you’re just standing there. Basking in the dark like a lizard basks in the sun. It’s comfortable. You don’t want the shadows to go away because then you’d have to deal with the light. You hate that. It’s like you don’t think you deserve it so you avoid it. But there’s cracks all over you. I’m not talking about the gaps in your plates. Your cogs. Your plates. Your gears. They all have cracks in them. Like shattered glass. And out of those cracks there’s a dark light leaking out. Like a painted light bulb about to break. But the shadows and secrets are holding you together. Like a glue made out of pure willpower… and spite… Providing you strength. Sharpening your resolve. Giving you direction. Purpose. You’re steadfast and unwavering, like a mountain, and as long as you keep moving you won’t end up devouring yourself.”

Gearing’s eyes go wide as his jaw drops. That wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting. Maybe a bit cryptic, sure. More power for the course when it comes to zebra fetishes and curses. But that wasn’t on brand as far as he would have thought what was going to be said.

Big Daddy rubs his glowing eyes before pushing his sunglasses back up. “You’re a living contradiction… Balanced chaos… Bright darkness… Dark lights…” He looks at Gearing and smiles as he asks, “What’s with that look? Not what you were expecting?”

“No… I was expecting something more like… I don’t know… something like I’m helpful and telling the truth about not wanting to compete with the Reapers…” He shrugs before he says lamely, “Something that’d help my case, I guess.”

Big Daddy grins as he says, “Oh… I can see that you meant that. You have no interest in being the center of attention. So you wouldn’t be interested in becoming competition.” Gearing’s face lights up. And Big Daddy’s smiles in return, but his eyes narrow. “I’m sure you’re telling the truth about it. And that you’ll keep to your nonaggression agreement.” He leans towards Gearing as he says, “But I also know that if something happens that you really don’t like, and we can’t come to an agreement, you’ll become a problem that we’ll have to deal with… Because we’ll be on your list otherwise.”

“I don’t have any intention-” Gearing starts but gets cut off.

“No, you don’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that you won’t abandon your principles. And while I can admire that, I don’t like not knowing when you’ll be set off,” Big Daddy says sharply.

“Easy. Keep up the competition and good sportsmanship, so those that like fighting are more busy trying to one up each other, and stay away from rape, murder, pillaging, burning, and foal fiddling,” Gearing replies quickly. “So as far as I can see, there’s nothing different from what you’re already doing. I’m not a fan of that challenge right bullshit that No Shoes used on me, you already know that, but, big picture, I can live with it. It’s not the end of the world. Not a deal breaker. Hoofington is better off with you here. So I don’t see a problem.” Gearing points a hoof at him. “But if you all suddenly decide to lose your mind, and start up a sex ring filled up with kidnapped Crusaders, then we’re going to have a fucking problem. And it won’t be me causing the problem, you’ll have lost your way at that point…” Gearing stares at him as he folds his forelegs in front of his chest before he snorts in disgust at the mere thought of it. “But, because of the agreement, I’d still warn whoever was in charge at the time before doing anything…”

Big Daddy grins widely around his cigar as he says, “Like I said, you have some pretty hard lines around your principles that you won’t back down on. I do like that…” He waves towards the window with a forehoof as he says, “We do as well… and it circles around not screwing us over or doing wrong by us.” He nods towards Gearing as he says, “You’re worried about us having a conflict, and want to remove it, right?” Gearing nods quickly, which causes Big Daddy to wave it away dismissively. “Then I don’t see a problem here. I see a solution. You just do what you said you’re gonna do, and help us out when the time’s right, and beyond that just be your own pony and do whatever you want.”

Gearing stares at him blankly for a few moments before he replies, “That sounds… reasonable. Yeah.”

A single knock on the door draws both of their attention.

Big Daddy looks at the door and back at Gearing. “If there’s nothing else, apparently there’s somepony else who needs a chat."

“Uh, no… Nope. I’m good! Thanks!” Gearing gets up with a wide smile on his face as he starts walking away. “Want me to let them in on my way out?”

Big Daddy stays on the couch puffing on his cigar and nods as he stares at Gearing walking away. As Gearing is opening the door, Big Daddy calls after him, “Have fun on your raider hunt, and let me know how that caravanners issue turns out.”

Gearing nods as he looks forward. He stares at the caramel unicorn mare on the other side of the door, respectfully standing off to the side and waiting for whoever to leave so she can enter. And then there’s that huge hammer that she has floating near her. Gearing’s sure if Handy was here, that he’d love it. But then Gearing’s tinkering mind gets to work and it takes him only a fraction of a second to realize the weight balancing needs to be adjusted for an earth pony to really get the most out of it.

The hammer wielding mare raises an eyebrow as she stares at him.

“Oh, sorry, was just thinking someone I know would like a hammer like that but I’d need to balance it so he could use it. Earth pony. Needs more weight on the back side for a better spin,” Gearing rambles as he steps out into the hallway and waves her in.

The comments actually draw an amused smile from her as she starts heading into the room. “To each their own… but let me get a look at it when it’s done. You got me curious.”

“Sure!” Gearing nods and then looks past her towards Big Daddy as the unicorn mare starts shutting the door behind herself, “Well, cya around. We gotta get back to Megamart and see which way this is gonna go.”

“Yeah, you will,” Big Daddy replies flatly. “And make sure to make time in between all your flank kicking to stop on by.” He smiles around his cigar as he says, “That way you and the others will get to know each other better.”

The little blue pegasus lifts his head wearily and asks, ‘Did we just spend an hour talking to him only for him to say ‘Yes, very sad… Anyway. Welcome to the Reapers.’?’

Gearing stares at Big Daddy in disbelief and his shoulders sag as a growing smirk on Big Daddy’s face is the last thing he sees before the door shuts between them. “…Fuck …”

The mutfruit vendor sits dejectedly with his back towards his overturned wagon as he plays with a beer bottle in front of him. One of the other ponies in the arena, who'd seen the whole thing with Gearing getting thrown through the wagon, felt bad for him and gave him the drink. The bottle’s mostly empty, and he’s trying to figure out what to do with himself now that his wagon is wrecked.

He hangs his head and moans, “The cargo I can replace… but the wagon? Ah maaaan…” He downs the rest of the beer before he looks at the empty bottle and says with a hitch in his voice, “You’re gone too, huh?”

A metallic creaking draws his attention and he slowly turns around. Then he jumps up to his hooves, and jumps away from the wagon, as the wagon gets lifted into the air, and rotated. A few of the other ponies that’d been walking by, stop and watch as the wagon is carefully laid back onto its wheels. A long impressed whistle comes from one of the bucks that had been walking by before he mutters, “I need to step up on my weight training,” before he carries on towards the front of the arena.

A moment later Gearing comes from the far side, giving the wagon a once over as he circles around it. He looks over at the vendor and gives him a sheepish smile. “I’d say bill Big Daddy for it, but I don’t know how that’d turn out.” The buck’s eyes go wide, then he shakes his head quickly. Gearing nods before he flicks a wing towards the wagon. “I can’t do anything for your merchandise, but I can get the wagon road worthy for you… if you’ll let me…”

The vendor looks at him and his eyes go wide before he narrows them suspiciously, “And what’s that gonna cost me?”

“Not holding it against me for Big Daddy throwing me through it?” Gearing asks with a sheepish smile.

The vendor’s eyes pop back open to their widest as he asks, “That’s it?”

Gearing waves his hoof around. “I mean if you really wanna do anything for me… I can always use information on raider nests, slaver trafficking, and, generally, on any no good down right rotten ponies that really need their flanks kicked.”

The buck stares at him for a few moments before saying, “Y-yeah… I can do that… no problem… Just let me know what you want to know and I’ll keep an ear out.”

Gearing grins and nods as he starts walking over to the wagon. “Sure. Just get it to Bottlecap to pass on. She’ll know where it’s supposed to go.” Gearing starts working on the one wheel, getting the wheel back seated into its rotor correctly as the wheel had almost fallen off. He uses his own hoofs to bang and tap them into the correct shape again. Then he stands up, lifts the wagon up with one hoof, and spins the wheel with his wings checking its balance. As he’s working on it, completely handling it with sheer brute strength, he starts developing a crowd around the wagon.

Both big holes in the wagon are formed from the metal giving, tearing, and curling out of the way as he passed through. On the one side, where his impact left an embossing of his body, the metal is curved outwards from the wagon like it was some kinda weird metallic flower. Without even using tools he starts uncurling the sheet metal, and flattening it out, as he starts filling in the hole he’d caused. Then he does the same thing to the other hole, but from the inside out. Those watching him work find the whole scene rather surreal as he manipulates the sheets of metal like they’re some kind of stiff cloth.

After he gets the metal sheets about as straight as they're going to get, and the massive hole has been reduced to a few irregular gaps, he flies out and starts examining the damage from the outside.

“I see you’re still among the living,” a buck's voice calls from the side.

Gearing looks over and sees Dolor looking up at him. Gearing smirks as he says, “I don’t know, maybe we’re both in hell… would explain a few things.”

Dolor lets a faint smile cross his muzzle before he asks, “You were gone a while; we were starting to wonder. What’d Big Daddy have to say?”

Gearing shrugs and starts running a hoof over the side of the wagon, feeling the imperfections and the small gaps in it that still need to be filled in. “The short of it is he told me I need to stop by more often so others know what I look like.” Gearing chuckles before he points a hoof at Dolor. “Now that I think about it, it’s the same thing your friend told me, right before Big Daddy chucked me through this wagon.”

Dolor nods as he says, “That he did. It was good advice.” He walks closer as he pulls out a long rolled up cloth. He respectfully sets it down and unfolds the cloth as he presents a barrel similar to the one Gearing currently has. Minus the bend. “I got this for you. It’s the right one for the rifle you have. If it’s not good enough, let me know and I’ll get another.”

Gearing looks at it and shakes his head. “As long as it’s intact, I can give it a cleaning and polish. Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

Dolor waves it away and starts respectfully backing away. “Nothing at all. Thanks for smoothing over that disagreement…” He waves towards the barrel. “Consider this a… welcome gift.”

Before Gearing can say anything, Soots pokes his head around the side of the wagon and looks at Gearing. A forced smile, edging into extremely nervous, crosses his muzzle as he says, “H-hey, Boss…” Gearing glances over at him and Soots flinches under the stare. “Lookin’ good! Uh… how’s things?” He looks down then holds up the fresh beer he’d just gotten. “Want a beer?”

Gearing smirks and says, “Give it to him,” and points at the vendor sitting a distance away and watching Gearing work.

Both of them seem confused by it, but Soots quickly slides over as he says, “Sure thing, Boss!” and passes the new bottle off to the vendor who appears exceedingly confused.

Gearing glances at the wagon as he mutters, “Gonna need some scrap to fill in these gaps.” And a moment later a sack of scrap metal plops down not far from him from where somepony in the crowd behind him had bucked it to him. Gearing looks at the sack, before calling out, “Hey, Soots.”

Soots snaps to attention as he asks, “Yeah, Boss?”

“You guys have any torches?”

“Uh… yeah, Boss? Why?”

“Well, your friend from earlier owes me a torch… and at least enough gas to get this thing fixed.”

Soots seems to have a localized seizure in his face as he can’t figure out how things ended up with that being the conversation and he starts wondering if he blacked out and missed something. “What?”

Gearing looks over at Soots and narrows his eyes as he asks, “It was his idea, wasn’t it?” He nods towards the wagon as he says, “He caused it so the least he can do is help me fix it. Or do I-”

He’s cut off by a cry of pain from Soots as a metallic cylinder clonks him on top of the head, hits the ground, and rolls close to Gearing.

A voice from somewhere in the crowd yells out, while still trying to remain hidden, “I’m sorry!”

Soots holds his head and looks around as he asks, “Who the hell?! Why the hell?!” He looks at the thing that hit him and holds his head with one hoof and shakes his other hoof in the general direction as he yells, “You don’t throw a fuckn’ torch, you asshole, I don’t care how scared you are!” He looks at his hoof then scowls as he says, “Great, just great! Now I’m fucking bleeding! And you just had to hit the good side of my head too, didn’t you? Like my face ain’t scarred up enough already!”

Notably, he doesn’t get a ‘sorry’ in response.

Soots turns to look at Gearing, and sees he’s staring right at him, so he asks with a grumble, “How’d you know? Big Daddy tell you?”

Gearing grins at him and points at his ear. “I have excellent hearing… I heard him ask you not to tell anyone.”

Soots holds his head and frowns as he asks, “Yet I’m the one that gets bonked in the head?”

Gearing looks over at him and grins as he asks, “Well, why not bonk him back… but be sure the helmet’s off to make it fair though.” Then he picks up the torch, and scrap metal, and gets to work fixing the wagon.

Soots grins and hops up to his hooves as he says, “I think I just will!” He turns around and starts trotting towards the crowd. “Hey, come’r; the Reaper told me to kick your ass for’em!” There’s a ‘eep’ from the crowd before a pony in a Hoofington Fire Department suit goes running away with Soots in hot pursuit. “Get back here, you lil shit! I’m gonna put the blood in blood brothers!”

After they’ve gone, Gearing looks over at Dolor and says, “I still think that buck needs to relax and work on his stress…”

The comment draws a couple chuckles from a few of the gawkers as Gearing gets to work on filling in the gaps. It doesn’t take long before Gearing finishes welding up the holes he caused. They aren’t pretty welds. They aren’t finished in the sense of being ground out to flush or polished. But they’re functional. As soon as he’s done, he grabs the bundled up barrel that Dolor gifted to him and takes flight while the welds are still hot. He swings by the camp where he first saw Soots, and air drops the torch off to the side before spinning around and going to find Swift. He’s in a hurry to leave and eager to get things sorted out. And he can’t do that until he gets to Megamart and can start questioning Lodestar.

“…So, yeah, I spent all that time trying to convince him I’m a bad fit and don’t want in anyway, only for him to basically ignore the whole conversation and send me on my way,” Gearing comments as he keeps looking out around their surroundings and half expecting some pony to jump out and challenge them since they’d left the arena. Especially with the stares he got from the mare and buck when they gave him back his stuff at the weapons check in. As it was they ended up burning the whole morning between Handy getting treated and Gearing dealing with Big Daddy and all that caused. “Like, I’m not sure if he just decided I’m in no matter what… Accepted the deal I offered… Or just wants to talk about it later because we got interrupted.”

Swift snickers before she replies, “Could be all of the above… but I’m going to wager the first… They don’t want someone better than one of their own getting away.”

“Awwww my aching head,” Handy groans as the group trots down the roadway towards Megamart.

Swift looks over at Handy and frowns as she says, “Hey, it won’t last much longer. Doc Psycho did what she could. Gotta let the rest of it work its way through your system… and, hey, at least you can walk now.”

“Doc Psycho? Was her name really Psycho?” Gearing asks as he takes a break from being paranoid of their surroundings to look at Swift.

“Noooo that wasn’t her actual name, but it should be,” Swift says with a laugh. She points a wing back towards the arena as she says, “That bitch was wearing ponyhide for a fashion statement… All of it had some kinda medical theme. I don’t care what anyone says, that’s some psycho shit to be doing.” She scrunches up her nose. “Fucking disgusting…”

“Well, what’d he say to you? It looked like you two didn’t even talk all that long?” Gearing asks.

Swift shrugs as she says, “Not much really… Asked if I was planning on sticking around. I told him we had some shit to do but I’d be stopping in to spar whenever I can. Made sure I was going to. I said maybe see about a few rounds in the ring too. He basically asked if I thought I could control you, I laughed in his face…” She grins at Gearing. “I told him if he wanted to talk to the one that holds your leash, that she’s currently at home with the foals.” She snickers a bit as Gearing rolls his eyes. “He asked how much I trusted you. I said you’d taken a point blank shotgun blast to the gut to save my life when you were already half dead.” She flutters a bit. “Talked a bit about the Lodestar situation too. But that was more him telling me to let’em know what we find out than anything.”

“I still say, kill the bastard,” Handy grumbles before he pulls out a cloth, blows his nose, and chucks it, and the filth contained within it, over a guardrail and into some mostly dead scraggly brush.

“I understand how you feel, Handy, believe me,” Gearing replies as he goes back to keeping an eye on their surroundings. “But the whole situation is one big cluster fuck and we need to do this smart.”

Handy looks over at Gearing and scowls. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on just letting him skate on by after what he tried to do?”

Swift shakes her head as she says, “Not happening.” She starts chuckling as she’s throwing out random forehoof strikes in front of her. “I vote for snatching his ass right out of there and stringing him up from that collapsed bridge over there.” She nods in its direction. “Not from his neck, ooooh no. Truss him up good and proper and just beat him.” She practically prances as she says, “My own personal piñata!”

Gearing trots up faster to get next to Handy as he says quickly, “I’m not talking about letting him go scot-free if he did.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Handy grumbles.

Gearing looks around then gets closer as he lowers his voice. “Look. Bare minimum, we need to get the shit for the stable.”

“So you’re going to let him get away with it if he coughs the stuff up anyway?” Handy asks as he narrows his eyes.

“I’m saying if we just rip his head off, we’ll never get the supplies,” Gearing retorts. “But after we get the shit, and if we find out he was fucking with us the whole time, then we can come up with something to deal with him properly.”

“Like what?” Swift asks as she looks over.

Gearing lets out a disgruntled sigh before he says, “First we need to make sure which way this has gone. If he’s really fucked us, we need to make sure we’re not screwing our chances of getting help from the Finders.” He looks at Handy as he says, “Big Daddy was not only pissed when I told him what happened, but he’s pretty sure Bottlecap would be too. I could see it in his eyes. So if Lodestar did screw us, and we can prove it, Bottlecap shouldn’t have a problem with us dealing with the problem. Hell, she might even pay us, or do it themselves.” Gearing shrugs. “But if we just go in there and jump him, we’re going to have one hell of a time and no one is going to want to help us get the shit we need anymore.” He flutters his wings in irritation. “Face it, we need the Finders…”

“So what are you thinking we should do, Gearing?” Swift asks as she starts fluttering overhead to be close to the conversation and not have to be as loud.

“Talk to him. See what’s up. See if there’s any other possibility for what’s happened. Look into it with others. See if anyone else has had an unfortunate ‘accident’ that benefited him in the past. And if not, we chalk it up to bad luck, get our shit, and leave it at that.” Handy instantly looks appalled at what he’s saying so Gearing cuts him off before he can say anything. “Hey, I’m the one that got ripped apart and nearly died, remember? I know my luck too, so that’s not entirely off the table. If he honors the deal, without any tricks or other nonsense, we can just get our shit and go.”

Handy snorts and starts grumbling about how he can’t believe how forgiving and naive Gearing’s being.

“What if it wasn’t an accident, though?” Swift asks. “What if he really was trying to screw us and has no intention of giving us the info? Or, worse, the info he gives us is a crock of shit and we won’t get what we need?”

Gearing looks between them then lets out a sigh. “Okay. That’s fair…” He takes a deep breath. “How about this…” After he’s sure he has both of their attention he says, “We look into him, and pay attention to everything. Even for stuff like if he’s actually surprised to see us when we get back. And, if after everything, we find out that he really is a crooked sonovabitch that tried to kill us, and even if we get what we’re supposed to, we don’t let him know we’re onto him. We play the same game. Act all smiles and cupcakes. And then later… after we know he’s dirty… We wait until he thinks he’s in the clear and got away with it…” He looks between them before he narrows his eyes. “And then we snatch his ass when he goes out somewhere. He’s not going to stay inside forever, and if we don’t give him reason to be concerned he won’t think twice about heading somewhere. And that’s when we got’em.”

“And then what?” Handy asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Swift giggles and gives him a malicious grin. “Then we kick the tar out of him!”

“Question him at minimal,” Gearing confirms. “And depending on how all of that goes, take care of his ass however seems best.”

“Like what?” Handy asks with a slight smirk and more than a little morbid curiosity.

“I don’t know… break his legs and use him as raider bait… Maybe just drop him from altitude and feed some roaches,” Gearing replies flatly and seemingly only half interested in that particular topic at the moment.

Swift scrunches her nose. “Damn, feeding him to raiders, that’s kinda messed up… I bet he’d rather I bashed his head in…”

Handy shivers with his whole body and actually recoils from Gearing. He looks between him and Swift as he says, “I swear you fliers just love to fucking tease those of us without wings… That sounds terrifying as hell.”

Gearing looks at him and smiles, which the warm nature of it just seems so much more creepy given the context. “That’s the point, Handy… Either way he’d die screaming for his horrible shit.”

Swift folds her forelegs across her chest as she says, “Sounds fair, given what he’s done.”

Handy shivers. “Yeah, fine, okay… just- just leave me out of it and out of ear shot if you decide to drop him from the moon or something… I don’t need that kinda nightmare fucking with me for the rest of my life...”

Gearing chuckles and shakes his head. “Okay, so we’re agreed then?” They both nod. “Great, so we have a plan regardless of how things go. We’ll deal with it based on what we find out. Just try to keep it in mind that he very well might be innocent. Let’s hear the guy out and see what he says. Give the buck a chance, you know? So let’s not let bias cloud our judgment. Follow the information and evidence.” He looks between them and smiles. “We’ll do this smart. We’ll let him say his peace. And we’ll look into it. And after we have all of the information, then we’ll decide what to do.” He looks them over again as he asks, “If he’s dirty, there’ll be plenty of time later to deal with him. Sound good?” He gets nods of agreement again, although Handy’s is obviously only begrudgingly so.

“Excellent! Just keep that in mind. Because getting pissed off and picking a fight in the middle of Megamart is not going to help our cause.”

---

Footnote:

Hydra Matrix: Stage 2: On Stand By Awaiting User’s Input . . .

Please Stand By. . .

Quest Perk: Local Legend II - “Guess who I just saw!” Your various deeds have become the topic of conversation around campfires, bars, and back room meetings in equal measure. Your reputation is outpacing you. Even those in positions of power are starting to take notice of you. Those with a positive outlook of your exploits will be more likely to provide even more favorable rates in trade and divulge information you request or they think may help you. How generous they will be is proportional to the reputation you have with them. Some may even seek you out with special offers or to volunteer information valuable to you. Note: Expect the exact opposite from those you’ve annoyed with your meddling. Some may even try to seek you out to remove a thorn from their side. It’s the price of fame.

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