Gearing sits in the dark tending to a small hot plate that has a tin can sitting on top of it simmering at a low temperature. The building he’s on top of is practically falling down all around him. In fact, it’s mostly fallen down already. He’s just on a section of the roof with a sturdy enough pillar under it that he’s fine. The wall built all the way around the roof’s edge to help with rain water control makes for an excellent spot to hide behind. And he follows a strict light discipline. The hot plate’s lights have all been covered up with various debris and cardboard, and the whole thing is sitting inside of a crate to keep any glow from being seen from anyone at ground level far below. He doesn’t particularly care about those above seeing him. If a pegasus comes down for a chat, he’ll have plenty to say to them.

Like how Bonesaw had chased him off, yet again, but did give him a good lead on where a nest of scorpions were around Megamart that folks kept running into. And Gearing found them. The whole not-so-little monster family had taken up residence in a large drainage pipe and a few of them were always out and about and terrorizing those that would walk down the road. There were a dozen of them, which, given the glands he was able to successfully harvest from them, would complete Bonesaw’s order.

But, like a lot of things Gearing has done recently, and since meeting the older looking buck, Gearing’s going to end up disappointing and annoying him further by not completing the order.

In fact, Gearing’s still debating on turning in any of these glades at all.

He’s already used four of them to give himself a nice supply of forty doses of what he’s wanting to make. The glades are particularly big, compared to what he’s used to, and it took him a bit of time to narrow down the exact best ratio for the doses. One whole glade was lost to experimentation. So he still has seven left, which he could give to Bonesaw to make the antivenoms he wants to make. But, at the same time, that seems like such a waste to him. Especially considering Bonesaw had made him aware that they can be lethal with only one or two stings, so the potency of the venom contained within the glands hasn’t been reduced at all. It’s actually been increased if anything. But the volume each gland contains has unquestionably been increased. In Gearing’s opinion, it shouldn’t take that much to make a sufficient cure for the poison. According to Bonesaw, it’s a one to one ratio, and that just seems a bit fishy to Gearing considering how big these things are. Either that or some level of incompetence, or working with a recipe that was never optimized. He’s pretty sure if he really put his mind to it, and with the right equipment, he could probably get a couple dozen antivenoms from just one gland of this size. The only reason he’s getting only a fraction of that for his own purposes, is because he’s doing something else with a bit more malice behind it.

But, as he’s working, and thinking, he regularly leans over to the side and looks through the scope of his rifle that he has set up and pointed off into the distance. It’s dark, so it’s hard to see anything really, but that area does have a few lights here and there. A few burning fires and lanterns help illuminate other areas sporadically. There are still a few ponies active, despite it being this time of night. But Gearing keeps a close watch on the area around those fires to make sure that there’s no big movements or signs of alarm. Because that is what he’s worried about.

Because according to Magnolia, that site of an old small mining company is where Red Eye’s forces have established a small foothold in Hoofington. And, more importantly, that is one of the locations that they gather the slaves that they’ve collected from Hoofington before they send them on down to Equestria proper and, eventually, Fillydephila where they’ll be worked until dead. And the biggest spur that got Gearing to need to do this tonight, is the knowledge that the group of ponies they have now are sentenced to be picked up for their eventual execution via inequine treatment and being worked to death. Tomorrow. So he only has a matter of hours to work with to get this plan of his kicked off. The window of opportunity is tight, but he’s sure he can do it.

He has spotted a couple ponies moving about down there at the small complex, but he’s not sure the exact number currently in the camp. With it getting well into the evening, he’s sure at least a few will be going to bed soon. He has to do this tonight, and before the sun rises. Because for his plan to work, he’s going to have to have this done, and settled, with the soon to be freed slaves so far gone from here no one will know they were ever here. And that’s a cornerstone for his whole plan.

After repeated rounds of simmering, and mixing a variety of ingredients, he strains out the concoction into a clean jar and lets it sit to cool. But, before it’s completely cooled off, he starts filling his tiny darts. The first ones he fills gets loaded straight into Snakebite’s five round internal magazine. He could have made a bigger one, but he didn’t want to risk having a lot of any one kind of toxin in it at once. The next grouping gets carefully put into an ammo belt he has wrapped tightly around the fabric covering his right foreleg so he can pull them out, load them, and use them as quickly as he can. The remaining twenty get put into their dedicated foam lined Mint-als tin for later possible use. He sucks up the rest of the dregs from the bottom of the jar with a syringe, caps it, and stores it for some as of yet undecided purpose. Maybe he’ll find someone that’ll need a bigger dose. Maybe he’ll load up a few more darts. He doesn’t know, but there’s no point in wasting it.

However, with that finished, and the night in full swing, he decides it’s time to pay his new friends a visit. So he shuts off the hot plate, grabs his rifle, and takes to the air.

He had done a higher level sweep when he first swung by to try and make sure this was the right place. He didn’t want to ambush innocent ponies in the middle of the night. But the cages set around the central building, with ponies inside of them, pretty much put any of those kinds of worries to rest.

The central building isn’t nearly as big as some other commercial operations. It looks like a giant barn made of sheet metal, but with tracks leading up to the doors in the front side that seem to take up the entire wall. There’s a few windows lined up in rows just below the lip of the roof on all sides, but beyond that, and the one pony sized door on the wall to the right of the giant front doors, there’s nothing to really see with it. All around the building are a variety of shipping containers in various stages of rusting. But the real boundaries seem to be the fencing that delineated where this company stopped and where other lands began. But, even so, it’s not particularly big by Gearing’s estimations. There’s a huge pile of gravel and rocky debris on the northwest side, pushing up against the fences and threatening to break them. Even in the dark he can see the various ancient machinery scattered around the complex. But, from the lighting, and a few items he can see, it seems like there’s a container or two being used as living quarters. Which, given their size, could substantially increase the number of hostiles he has to deal with.

Then there’s his true goal. On both sides of the main building, but a distance away from it, are the slave cages. There are nine in total with three on each side of the main building, except the side with the tracks, and clustered together. But for some reason the majority of the ponies are on the east side, with only two, judging by the view from Gearing’s scope, on the west side and in a single cage. The rest of the cages are empty.

Which gives Gearing a nice visual on Red Eye’s apparent expectations versus reality. And it makes him smile because he’s intending on making the gap far worse.

He sweeps over slowly and silently, doing a circle over the main building as he keeps an eye on his EFS before he falls back to the company’s water tower set up near the railroad tracks that lead up to the building. The ladder had fallen away long ago from a sky wagon crashing into it. So getting up here would be particularly hard for any of the earth bound creatures. But it does give him a great vantage point to look down at the couple figures patrolling around the central building.

Near the corners of the central building’s front a pair of standards hanging down from wooden frames declares to all who approach that this area has been claimed by Red Eye’s forces. And Gearing makes a point of paying careful attention to both it, and the tan pony walking around out front.

‘Is that supposed to be a mechanical iris or an eye or what? I mean, I’m trying not to take offense here… but… too late… eyes don’t normally look like that and that’s too close to mine for me to be comfortable,’ The little blue pegasus grumps with his right eye twitching, along with the eyebrow, and his forehooves tightly folded across his chest. ‘Then there’s that tan bozo marching around like he owns the place. Ooohhh so scary with his black outfit with the red decorations. So edgy. I don’t know where they got it, or made it, but that looks like crap… Probably even pieced together, and not in a good way either. In fact the only decent thing that asshole has is his carbine and he probably stole that!’

Gearing can’t help the snotty thoughts as he glares down at the patrolling buck. But he manages only a sneer of distaste instead of actually laughing. The armor looks rather similar to what he’s currently wearing. With lots of extra fabric but pieces here and there sticking out to explain the bulk. He’s not sure how effective it would be against actual weapons fire, but he’s sure it’d still be better than what normal raiders run around in. So, they have that going for them at least. And then there’s that helmet cowl thing the pony is wearing. Almost like someone took a hoofball helmet, glued some fabric to the inside, and poked holes for eyes. But, instead of simply looking through the eyeholes, they’re wearing goggles too. So the whole thing covers his muzzle entirely. But it does so looking more like a sack and less like a gasmask.

And then, oddly enough, the tan pony looks around quickly as if they’re trying to see if anyone’s looking, and then they start walking around the side of the building and a moment later disappears from Gearing’s line of sight. This draws a frown from Gearing as the pony is now out of view and he hasn’t been able to figure out what’s up with that building. There are rusted conveyors and carts all over the place. But he doesn’t see the actual mine. His only thought of the matter is that this is either a distribution hub, or the mine entrance is inside that building itself. Which brings up a slew of other problems to Gearing’s mind. Because when he’d flown closer, his EFS lit up like a Hearth Warming log. There are a lot of hostiles in the camp, and judging by what he can tell from his EFS, the vast majority of them aren’t on the surface. Which means either they have a sizable force underground, and these are just the patrol guards, or there’s something else going on.

With no one else directly in sight, Gearing zips over to the building, comes around the side, and grabs hold of the side of the building as he clings to the wall just under the roof lip and tries his best to meld into the corner under the eave as he glances in through a broken window.

There’s not much in the way of light on the inside. And, in fact, this area looks hardly used at all. Despite it being the most solidly put together. There’s a table with a radio on it, and a couple chairs, but that’s it. It looks more like a sometimes used break room, or at worst a guard station. The rest of the interior has a few crates and boxes here and there, but other than that it’s mostly empty. The train tracks do actually come into the building through the main door, but they stop half way through the building. And there are no carts on it at all. The only thing of note is the makeshift door that’s been welded and pieced together from sheet metal and multiple layers of fencing and grates. A door which is currently being held closed with a combination of cross beam rods and a couple locks.

As Gearing is watching, the tan buck stares at the gate to the restricted section and then slowly looks around to make sure no one’s watching again. But, a second later, he walks up to the grate and starts tapping on the metal with a booted forehoof.

Instantly hissing and growling comes from beyond the barricaded door. And while Gearing’s eyes go wide at the very recognizable inequine howl that comes up from deep echoey places beyond that door, the tan buck doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. Not even when a ghoul crashes against the metal, and starts thrashing against it as it snaps its jaws and launches spittle in the tan buck’s direction.

A moment later another guard comes in through the side door, wearing the same kind of armor as the first, and runs over as he says in a loud whisper, “The hell are you doing, Stubs?! Don’t agitate them!”

The tan buck looks over at him and casually waves towards the door as it barely shakes from the impacts. “It’s fine. Look. They can’t get through. They’re too stupid… So why do we got to put up with this? Just a couple of us could go in there, and clean the place out, and we wouldn’t have to deal with the noise anymore!”

The other buck slaps a hoof over his face before he groans. “Because Flapjack said so, that's why. And I’m not going to go and stick my nose in his business.”

The tan buck waves his hoof as he says, “I’m just saying. If I was in charge, we’d have cleaned that out. We wouldn’t have to worry about them. And we’d have a much better place to sleep at night. Especially when it rains… Which is like all the time in this fucking area.”

“Yeah, well, Flapjack ain’t worrying about it,” the other buck says with a dismissive shrug.

“Of course not, because he gets to sleep in that nice shipping container, all to himself, while the rest of us just have to suffer with whatever we can find. I joined up with Red Eye’s army to get a better life, not worse. Whatever happened to the future of Equestria bit?”

“Better not let Flapjack, or any of the others hear that kind of talk, or you might end up with a collar on yourself,” the other buck warns.

The tan buck lets out a half-amused half-disgusted snort. “I’m just annoyed by this. Babysitting new volunteers is bad enough. But sitting on our hooves when there’s a problem right here we can solve is so much worse. I mean… what kind of equipment could still be down there? We don’t know. And we’ll never know as long as all we do is keep the door sealed,” the tan buck grumbles as he waves a hoof at the door.

“Well get ready to be more annoyed, because Flapjack sent me to tell you that your shit lasts ‘til sun up. You’re not getting relieved because he needs the others to help him later and doesn’t want them falling asleep on the job when the transfer happens.”

“Just. My. Fucking. Luck,” the tan buck groans as he hangs his head.

“You need anything?” the other buck asks.

“An end to this stupid shit would be nice,” the tan buck replies bitterly.

“Hey, look at it this way, maybe ole Flapjacks will get transferred out and we’ll get someone new… Can’t possibly be worse than him, right?”

The tan buck looks over at him and shakes his head. “Don’t say that shit, things can always get worse!”

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head giggles before he says, ‘Look, a buck after our own heart… It’s like he knows we’re here.’

The other buck waves him over and then the two start leaving as he says, “Ain’t that the truth! Well, come on, let’s get out of here. I gotta get back to my own route before I get skinned.”

Gearing watches them slowly leave, and a grin crosses his muzzle as he looks back over at the reinforced gate that’d acting as a barricade. The ghoul inside rears up and bangs on the gate a few more times before it presses its head into the grates where it can see through and directs its amber glowing eye in the direction of the door the two have just left through. Then it rears up and beats on the door viciously for a few seconds before settling down and walking away from it as the noises from deeper in calm down as well.

‘So… Now we have two names to work with, and a herd of ghouls just waiting to tear the bastards apart… Oooh I’m smelling opportunity here!’ The little blue pegasus in his head rubs his forehooves together greedily as he grins.

And that also means that the extra red I saw... wasn’t reinforcements, or the main force even, but it’s a crap ton of ghouls trapped under this building instead, Gearing replies

‘Which means’ there’s only six of them…’ the little blue pegasus chimes in.

And just think… I spent all that time making dozens of doses… Gearing comments with a smirk.

‘You get the feeling we’re over prepared and overdressed?’ the little blue pegasus says with a massive grin.

And in unison they say, ‘No,’ as Gearing breaks off from his bat-like perch on the side of the building and swings around.

The tan buck had gone back around front to his normal spot walking around, diverging from the other buck as soon as they stepped outside of the door. As soon the other buck is around the side of the building, with the other red markers out of sight, Gearing crawls over the roof of the main building, lines up his angle with Snakebite after attaching the longer barrel, and quickly bulls the trigger as soon as he sees a clear line to his target.

The buck jumps,looks to the side, and he reaches up towards his neck with his foreleg, as he asks, “Whath death?” Then his front end falls down causing him to face plant before his hind legs slop over limply. All together it looks like a rather painful way to lie down.

Gearing zips off to the side where he sees someone going into a little area that is setup for outdoor sleeping. The roof, as it is, is nothing more than fabric setup over the shipping containers lean-to style. And as Gearing’s watching he notes the other two red dots are ponies already asleep -a mare unicorn and an earth pony buck respectfully- and the mare who just entered is headed towards the cot at the end of the row.

Gearing quickly zips in behind her silently, landing with a flutter just outside of the opening to the sleeping area before stepping in. He points Snakebite at the still standing mare as he nips out a dart from the ammo belt on his foreleg. He leans over and gives the sleeping unicorn mare a kiss right on the flank, as gentle as a butterfly. But leaves the dart imbedded as he quickly pulls away. He pulls out another one, and sneaks up behind the last mare, but leans over and kisses the buck on his neck. Again, leaving the dart right in place. But the buck jerks slightly and his mouth opens as he wasn’t entirely asleep yet. Gearing quickly leans down on him, and after a quick kick, that barely does more than tink on the cot’s frame, the buck’s movement and spasming stops. But his eyes are wide open and full of fright as he stares right at Gearing but with no focus to them.

Gearing sneaks up behind the last mare, as she’s shaking out of her armor. And, as she’s turning around she looks up and gives herself a vigorous shake as she enjoys being free from all of that equipment. But her eyes go wide as she feels a stinging prick, like a mosquito bite, nip her right under her chin on her neck. She looks down, and her eyes widen as she sees Gearing standing there squatted low with the rifle pointed right at her. And beyond Gearing she can see the one buck staring at the two with unabashed terror in his eyes as he seems to beg her to do something.

But it’s already too late.

Especially as Gearing hops forward and grabs hold of her muzzle with his wings. Keeping her muzzle shut as she tries to scream, even as weak of an attempt as it is. But the fast acting poison quickly goes through its rounds of numbing and then paralyzing her as well. Gearing slips forward and gently holds her in his hooves, as her hind legs give out a couple weak spastic kicks and fight with the sudden but impotent rush of adrenaline. And a moment later she’s held up by nothing more than Gearing’s gentle embrace. He carefully picks her up, turns, and plants her in the cot she was standing near. As she and the stallion watch, he carefully tucks her into bed, and then covers both of their heads with the sheets so that no one will notice their terrified looking eyes.

Gearing turns away and grins as he quietly says, “Sleep well…”

He slowly trots away from the shared sleeping area as he disconnects the barrel from Snakebite and puts it into its reserve mount along the weapon’s side. “Four down, two to go…” He vectors towards the area of the rundown compound with the shipping crates, guided by a few lights, and where the ranting guards had inadvertently promised their leader was. And, as typically happens when the information comes from eavesdropping, the information appears true as he sees a single red dot among the shipping crates and the added light. As he’s getting closer, he keeps his eyes moving around and focused on looking for anything that could trip his plans up. And he can’t help but smirk as he sees some low hung tin cans set up as some kind of early warning against intrusion crisscrossed over the path to the shipping container opening. And as he’s almost upon them he doesn’t even slow his stride as he unfurls his wings, casually flaps them a few times as he tucks his legs in, and simply floats over each of the strings until he’s at the entrance. That might work for some dumb animals, or maybe even ghouls, but it’s not going to work on someone whose profession is paranoia.

On both sides of the door, if that’s what one would want to call the hanging cloth that separates the inside of the shipping container from the rest of the world, hangs another pair of the Red Eye’s army standard, gently flapping in the wasteland breeze. Gearing has to try extra hard not to simply rip them down and do an improv tap dance routine on them. And the only thing that’s helping Gearing is the fact that he knows for his plan to work, he can’t just wreck the place like that. Not even with as much as he really wants to. He slips up to the cloth divider and stops as he hears a voice coming from the inside.

A snotty sounding buck that seems to elongate his enunciation to absurd levels comments, “… and it is with the greatest of frustration I must report that Paradise has failed to meet expectations. Once again! We, my subordinates and I, have done all that we can with what resources we have here to try and make up for their blunders, but I’m afraid even that is not enough. I humbly request more resources. More ponies to command, so that I might begin collecting more volunteers from the local population. And it is of my opinion that the agreement with Paradise be amended. For if they cannot meet our needs, we should look elsewhere. And, should that be the case, I would be willing to take on the additional duties to see it done. For the future glory of Equestria. For Red Eye!” There’s a slight pause as the buck hums to himself before he finishes, “Faithfully your humble servant… Commander Pancake.”

A bit of shuffling around later and the stallion’s voice practically giggles, “Between the new volunteers I’ve got and this letter, if I don’t get another promotion I don’t know what it’ll take!”

Gearing dares to peek around the cloth and look into the brightly lit shipping container where a portly grayish-green earth pony stallion stands admiring himself in a full length mirror. And, just beyond the mirror, is an armor stand where a flamboyantly decorated set of armor currently rests. An armor with an immaculate polish job, done by his subordinates, and the Red Eye emblem painted in various spots all over it. And, Gearing has to keep himself from laughing as it looks like the stallion had taken a set of hoofball armor and painted it up to use as some Nightmare Night costume. Just another costume with a lot of other garishly placed unnecessary decorations in Gearing’s opinion.

‘Another bullshit officer just looking for one easy promotion after another… You’d think after two hundred years, and the end of the world, at least that shit would change,’ the little blue pegasus says with a groan as he slaps a hoof over his eyes.

In any century, it seems, greedy and self centered asses end up in positions of power… somehow… Gearing mentally grumbles. But then his muzzle splits into a wide grin as he mentally adds, Speaking of asses…

Gearing raises Snakebite up around the fabric, just barely poking the end of the barrel inside, and points it at the hind end of the apparent leader. He gently squeezes the trigger before quickly withdrawing Snakebite and readying another shot.

The buck keeps staring into the mirror, then frowns lightly as he snaps his tail in the direction of the dart sticking out of his right cheek. “Infernal insects! I should inquire with the Society if they hath anytheeng tooth… Whatha?” The buck looks behind himself and his head lolls down as he sees his hind legs have splayed out. His eyes go wide as he seems himself doing what should be a very uncomfortable split as his rear slowly lowers to the ground. But unlike how this might normally occur, his legs practically jut out perpendicular to his body like his hind hooves just had a disagreement and are trying to get away from each other as fast as they can. But, before that can even register, the rest of him flops down as his forelegs seem to simply resign on the spot. The whole body mutiny causes his considerable bulk to splat onto the bottom of the shipping container.

Gearing steps in and looks at the grayish green stallion as he lies on the floor in a very uncomfortable position while uncontrollably drooling onto the floor. Gearing walks over, as Pancake stares right at him but with his eyes unfocused, and pulls the dart out of Pancake’s rear. Then he reaches up and sticks it back in, but in the side of Pancake’s neck. “See, that’s what happens when you’re that fat… it takes longer to circulate. This’ll do a better job of keeping it circulating.” He narrows his eyes as his voice turns cold and menacing. “Given your gut, and the rampant desperate scarcity of food, I can only imagine the fucked up shit you do and how much you exploit others for your own personal gain… You just lay there; I’ll be back for you in a few.”

Once outside he flies over the tin cans, and heads in a path that circumvents the cages, but takes him to the one remaining red dot on the surface. Again he zips over the central building, avoiding all of the lights below, before dropping back down to the ground near the corner of the building. The tan buck had just walked from over here, so as Gearing peeks around the corner, he can see the dejected looking buck walking away at a slow pace just about a dozen yards away. He raises Snakebite, with it still in its snub-nosed configuration, and grins as he takes his final shot.

Instantly Stubs rears up as he lets out a heartfelt scream of pain and surprise, and as soon as his forelegs come back down from his surprised jump, he bucks out behind himself blindly. But while his hind legs do kick out, they don’t retract properly, and he slaps onto the ground as his rump is no longer supported. But as much as it must have hurt to unintentionally belly flop, that’s apparently not even the biggest of his concerns. He tries to crawl away with his forelegs, but they just flop around with increasingly impotent wiggles. But his scream doesn’t end. Even as his head flops down onto its side and he can no longer move, his muzzle keeps the same horrified open position. And as long as that might have seemed to have taken from his point of view, it was, in reality, measured in fractions of a second. But still, he was still reacting to the sudden and rampant pain coming from his hind end before he had even registered that it had already gone numb.

Gearing sheepishly smiles as he’s walking up to the downed tan buck. “Awww… damn… I am so… so sorry for that… so sorry. Right in the chocolate starfish… Oof!”

The little blue pegasus nods as he scrunches up his muzzle to the side. ‘That has got to hoit!’

Gearing smiles as he looks down at the buck. “You know, I hate to waste these things, but, really… that was my bad. Obviously I need to get more practice with this without its barrel extender.” He pulls another dart out from the ammo belt on his foreleg, and quickly jabs Stubs in the neck with it, before reaching down with a wing and removing the offending dart that’s buried just south of the tan buck’s tail. Gearing holds it up and frowns as he says, “An extra dirty dirty needle… well… shit…”

‘Literally,’ the little blue pegasus snickers.

Gearing looks down at the buck and grins as he says, “You just hang out here. I’ll be back to make you comfortable in a bit.”

‘Keep an eye on the clock, that’s pretty long lasting but not forever,’ the little blue pegasus reminds him as Gearing is walking away. He quickly stows his equipment and then takes off into the air. He zips over the central building where the mine access is being secured, and curves over towards the cages that are mostly empty. He lands on a shipping crate and peeks over the edge as he looks into the one cage on this side that has the pair of ponies in it. Gearing pulls out his rifle, and uses the scope to get a closer look into the cage.

Inside is a pair of unicorns. Their horns are easily identifiable as they are huddled up next to each other resting their heads on the other in an attempt to comfort each other. On their horns are magical disruptors to prevent them from trying anything. And the bomb collars around their necks help ensure their cooperation further.

Gearing sweeps side to side slowly as he looks around and lets out a sigh. As he’s confirming the general line of sights on this side of the compound, the little pegasus in his head says softly, ‘This… is the part of the plan I hate…’

Gearing groans as he closes his eyes and looks down. He holds his head between his forelegs for a few moments before he hops up and takes flight, but makes sure he stays out of sight of the cage with the two unicorns inside. After he gets out of their line of sight, he makes a beeline for the next set of cages where he’d seen others huddled inside in the night. And as quiet as a shadow he swoops in and lands near the welded cages as he looks around. As he’s walking up to the cages he can’t help but notice the reek. They’ve obviously been in these cages for a couple days, and they’ve had to stay in the cages with their own filth. Not being absolute idiots, they’ve taken to using a back corner to relieve themselves. But, regardless, the reek is everywhere and Gearing can’t understand how they aren’t physically ill from it. But then his question is answered as he sees a couple spatters outside of the cage that let him know a few of them have ended up hurling from the smell alone.

He looks the two cages over and quickly does a headcount of the ponies inside. Six in one cage, four in another. There are unicorns and earth ponies mixed in, of various ages including a young filly. Gearing reaches in through the bars and taps on the flank of one of the older stallions and gives him a nudge.

“Hey, psst… wake up,” Gearing whispers loudly.

The stallion jerks from the contact but then lays his head back down without even looking as he groans, “You assholes can at least let me sleep…”

“Wake up… and get the others up, but be quiet,” Gearing whispers again as he nudges his side.

“You really going to make us walk all night, without any sleep, after that long spiel about being on our best behavior for Red Eye that you gave us yesterday?” a mare next to him asks with a yawn. “Come on, we can’t move if we’re falling asleep on our hooves…”

“I’m not from Red Eye,” Gearing says and instantly every head in the cage jumps up to look at him. Instantly Gearing puts a hoof to his lips as he shushes them before they can even say anything. “Quiet; stay quiet!”

They start slowly getting up and the buck asks, “You busting us out of here?”

“You have the keys?” the mare from before asks.

“Forget the keys, how about the detonator for these collars?” asks the young filly as she doesn’t even bother getting up as she looks at Gearing skeptically.

Gearing goes over to the next cage and quickly gets them up and motions them all to get as close to the bars as they possibly can. He hops back and forth as he asks, “First, I need to know, who all knows that you’ve been captured? Anypony? Anycreature at all? Besides Paradise and the Red Eyes forces here?” He spins around as he asks, “Did anyone you know, know you got captured?”

“Why’s that matter if you’re letting us out?” the annoyed stallion from before asks.

“It matters. A lot.” Gearing says sharply.

The four in the one cage shake their heads as the older mare comments, “Not us. They nabbed all of us at once. Nopony else saw. That’s probably how they got away with it.”

The young filly walks up to the cage and stares at Gearing for a moment as she tries to figure him out. But then she lets out a sigh and hangs her head as she says, “Me…”

Gearing hops over and looks at her as he asks, “Who? How? Why?”

She sits down and stares at him for a few moments before she says, “My little sister. Slavers cornered us, or tried to, but she crawled into a sewer pipe and hid while they chased after me. I kept yelling for her to run but… we had a system… That was just to make the slavers think they were catching up to both of us.” She shrugs. “I tripped over a damn bit of wire sticking out of the ground and, boom, they had me…” She looks off to the side as she says, “Kicked the shit out of me for not giving up my sister’s location… but at least she got away.”

“And you’re sure she got away?” Gearing asks as he leans towards her.

“Yeah… I’m sure… otherwise we’d have seen each other as we were being marched off to Paradise.” She lets out a sigh before she looks up at Gearing and asks miserably, “So that means you’re not going to let me out, right? Because word’ll get out? I mean… that’s fair I guess…” She gives him a sad smile as she says, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them anything… I’ll just say I slept through the whole thing…” She flops down, folds her forelegs, and rests her chin on them as she closes her eyes. “So I might as well at least get some shuteye… make it partially true at least…”

Gearing reaches in and taps her hoof as he says, “No, that’s not it,” When she opens her eyes he says, “I need you to do something for me.” He gives her hoof an encouraging shake before he says, “I’m getting you out of here, all of you, but I need you, specifically, to do something for me.”

She lifts her head up and the hope she’d tried so hard to suppress becomes evident for a split second across her face before she asks suspiciously, “What?”

“I need you to make two things reality…” Gearing says flatly.

She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

Gearing looks her in the eye as he says, “It’s simple. I’m going to tell you something… and you are going to remember it. And what I need you to do is to practice and think about it soooo much…. That when anyone asks you, that’s your instinctual reaction… I need you to repeat this so often, that it becomes the truth.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Gearing takes in a deep breath and says, “When anyone, anypony, anycreature, ever asks you about tonight. Or about being captured. Deny it. Okay? I need you to deny being captured.” He looks up at the others and says, “And that applies to everyone else here as well.” Then he looks at her and says, “If anyone asks where you’ve been, tell them you were running and hiding from slavers and it took you forever to get away from them. That they just wouldn’t leave you alone. But that you eventually got away and made a break for it. Understand?”

She nods as she tries to think it over. “Yeah… but… I don’t get it… and what’s the second thing?”

Gearing grabs her hoof and demands her attention. And after the pair have locked eyes he adds, “Your sister is going to know better. Or at least question it. So, in private… here is the second lie you have to make true. Tell her that you were captured by the slavers. But on the way back to Paradise a gold armored pony attacked, killed the slavers, and set you free. Tell her that he asked you to be quiet about it, so nopony knows he’s out hunting slavers. And that if it’s ever found out, they might come after them. And both of you as well. So that both of you have to keep it a secret and pretend it never happened.”

She smirks as she says, “A gold armored buck? Somepony’s been reading too many comic books. That’s just ridiculous. Nopony’s going to believe that…”

Gearing grins at her under his mask as he says, “Yeah… it’s a bit ridiculous…” He reaches up and pushes the cowl back on his head and rotates his head side to side so she can see the shining brass underneath it in the light provided by the fireplaces not far away. And even though the fires are far enough away that their illumination doesn’t really reach him, it’s more then enough to create a golden reflection off his muzzle and head. At least where the bodysuit isn’t covering. Her mouth drops, her eyes shoot wide open, and then he starts covering back up as he says “Isn’t it? But, don’t worry, there’s enough that have seen me during the day that even if that gets out, they’ll know exactly who it was.”

“Aren’t you worried about reprisals?” the stallion asks as he looks around. “You’re really stepping in it with this.”

Gearing looks up at them, then around at all of the others as he says, “Which is why… the price of your freedom, is to make the same lie reality that I told her. I need you, each and every one of you, to deny ever being here. Deny being caught. Deny being turned over to Red Eye’s forces. It doesn’t matter what happens or what you hear. I need you all to forget this entire thing ever happened.”

An older mare shivers as she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget something so horrible happened…”

Gearing looks at her and smiles as he says, “Change your frame of mind then… because as bad as whatever you’ve faced so far has been, you know where they were going to take you is even worse, right?” The mare’s eyes go wide before she rapidly nods. So Gearing continues, “So simply realize this is your reprieve. Your second chance. Focus on the future you’re going to have, full of possibilities, instead of the horrible death you know you’d face otherwise. If nothing else, maybe that’ll help your brain want to avoid thinking about it.”

The older stallion with the group of four eagerly nods as he says in a loud whisper, “If that’s the price of getting out of here, count me in! I wouldn’t want the buck that saved my life getting targeted anyway, so that’s a no brainer. I give you my word I’ll never mention you, Paradise, this place, or any of that to anyone.”

“Alright, well, come on, I’ll get these collars off, then I’ll lead you all out to a safe place,” Gearing says as he quickly looks between the two cages and tries to catch as much eye contact as he can. “And don’t try running off. I haven’t checked the whole area. And if I let you out of here, and you run the wrong way, you might trip a mine and blow yourself up… and if you get yourself killed after I’ve gone through all of this to save you I’m going to be very cross with you, understand?”

The macabre humor actually draws a chuckle from a few of the ponies, and a giggle from the young filly, before they genuinely agree.

Gearing beckons the little filly to get closer, then starts looking over the collar closely.

The filly closes her eyes as she groans and whispers, “You sure you know what you’re doing? I’d feel better about this if you just went and got the controls instead of trying to techno wizard this off of me.”

Gearing starts working on it as he asks, “Would it surprise you to know that you’re not the first filly I’ve taken one of these collars off of?”

“Was her head still attached when you were done?” the filly asks bitterly.

“Yeah, otherwise she’d lose it; she’s always losing things,” Gearing says with a chuckle. And, as the filly’s eyes are clamping tighter by the second, he slips the now deactivated collar off of her neck, closes it back up, and sets it on top of her head like a strange tiara. “I’m not one for fashion, but I do think it makes a better tiara than a necklace.”

The filly opens her eyes and looks up, then balks and jumps back away from it, smacking it off her head as she yelps, “What you trying to do, blow up my noggin?”

Gearing reaches in, grabs it, and quickly pockets it into one of his bags as he says nonchalantly, “It’s off. It won’t blow until it’s reactivated.”

The filly reaches up and feels her neck then flops down as she continuously rubs it and looks at her fellow captives. She looks at the older mare next to her and whispers with tears in her eyes, “Is this real? Is this really happenin’?”

The matronly mare smiles and wraps a foreleg around her, giving her a hug as she whispers back, “Looks like it.”

Gearing waves everyone to the bars again as he whispers, “You’ll have plenty of time to revel in your new found freedom later, I promise, but we’re kind of on a time crunch here and I need to get you all far from here before the sun comes up.”

The first stallion he woke up presses against the bars and waves towards himself as he says eagerly, “Say no more! Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it!”

Gearing hops over and gets to work as he replies, “Just stand still, and don’t say anything, or make any noise at all, if you can avoid it.” A split second later, after he notices that the stallion doesn’t even reply as Gearing starts tinkering with the bomb collar, he smiles and quietly comments, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take Gearing long to get the various bombs off of the ponies. The most challenging part of the whole process was actually getting the magical dampener rings off of the unicorns. They weren’t too enthused with him messing with them, but after assuring them that he’s a buck of many talents, and producing a few tools they’ve never even seen before, he manages to get them off as well with some tinkering.

As Gearing is picking the lock on the first cage, he asks, “Show of hooves, how many of you have used the bathroom in here? Don’t really care about pissing, but who has gone number two?” Gearing glances up and then his ears flop down as he mutters, “Great, looks like everyone then.”

The young filly, looking rather abashed, says defensively, “Well you can only hold it for so long before you just gotta, you know!?”

Gearing waves it away with a wing and shakes his head as he says, “Yeah… I know… just more work I have to do for this.” He looks up from the lock and asks, “Is it at least all in that same corner? Except for the vomit out here?” After getting general nods and nopony telling him otherwise he says, “Well, that’s something at least.”

The older mare asks, “Wouldn’t it be better to get the keys?”

The little filly groans as she puts her hooves over her own cheeks, “Please tell me you didn’t get the collars off just to tell us we’re still stuck in here?”

Gearing looks her in the eye, and his smile grows wide as he slowly turns the tumbler and the cage door unlocks. He gently pulls it open a crack as he says, “I didn’t get the collars off just to tell you that you’re still stuck in there.”

The filly runs over to the gate and then looks up at him as she asks with a grin, “You got any other tricks up your sleeves?”

Gearing trots over to the other cage as he says, “Lots.”

The ponies slowly walk out of the cage, but then meander around as a cohesive herd as they obediently wait for Gearing to tell them what to do next. He’s got them this far. And the last thing they want to do is screw up their own chance at freedom by not listening to the one pony that actually seems to have a plan that’s working.

But as Gearing gets to work on the second cage’s lock, the filly asks, “Why were you asking about our poop?”

Gearing keeps his eye on the lock as he mutters, “Because I gotta clean it up and get rid of it. Hide it, toss it in their latrine, or something.” As he’s opening the newly, and quickly, unlocked gate to the cage he looks over at the filly and says softly, “I gotta erase as many traces of your presence here as possible. In case anyone checks.” He motions the group of four out of the cage as he turns and starts walking away. “Follow me everypony. And walk in single file. It’ll make getting rid of your tracks easier for me.”

The filly gets right behind Gearing as he leads the way, with the other nine falling in line and making a living train as Gearing winds through the various rusted equipment in a beeline straight for the fence. As they are passing a broken down excavator the filly asks, “You’re taking this ‘without a trace’ stuff extra serious… Why?”

Gearing hurries over to the ten foot security fence as he says, “I’ll explain a bit more once I get you to the safe house.” He looks behind him and says, “Pass the word, just step up to the fence, and I’ll carry you over. Just stay here. And after I drop you off on the other side, stay where I put you until I say otherwise. Kapeesh?”

The ponies all readily nod, and then their eyes go wide as he rears up, puts his forelegs around the young filly, and takes flight. Because at first they almost don’t see his wings spreading out, given how dark it is and the wing covers he’s wearing, and they almost wonder if he simply jumped the distance or if he’d levitated himself somehow.

As he’s putting the filly down on the other side she hunkers down and covers her face with her hooves as she groans, “I peed a bit. I’m sorry, you scared me.”

Gearing groans as he lets her go and turns around. “Yeah, I know. Well, at least it wasn’t on me.”

He zips over the fence and his next passenger proves to everyone that his limitations are far greater then they’d imagined, as he grabs a portly mare, the biggest of the group, and flies up and over the fence with the same grace and speed he’d done with the filly.

As Gearing is gently setting the older mare down, the young filly hisses at him, “Well ya shoulda warned me you were gonna fly first. It’s not like I’ve flown before!”

Gearing smirks at her as he says, “Don’t worry, that’s the last flight I’ll be taking you on, on this trip.” Then he quickly fetches another pony.

As Gearing’s setting down the buck he’d grabbed, the filly says quickly, “Oh, I don’t really mind it. I kinda liked it after I realized what was happening so if you wanna do that again it’s cool. You just scared me at first SoIPromiseNotToPeeOnYouSorry!”

Gearing doesn’t even bother responding before he fetches the rest of the ponies with quick back and forth zips. Then, after doing another head count, after already making sure he’d brought ten over, he quickly flies to the front of the group and lands as he says, “Alright everyone, follow me. Single file again. I don’t know if there are landmines out here, but I’ve already cleared a path. So just follow me and we’ll all be fine.”

Then he takes off at a fast trot, but regularly looks behind himself to make sure they are all following. After they get a distance away through the low growing dead brush and rubble that he decides to use as a path, he leads them to a stretch of broken asphalt, and then takes off at a full run as he regularly looks over his shoulder to make sure they are keeping it. One crumbling building after another passes them before he stops at the front of a building that’s mostly intact, except its roof had collapsed straight down to the first floor and it looks more like a box made of stone than anything. He waves them in and points towards a room off to the side that still has its roof intact. After doing another quick head count, and making sure his herd of rescuees is still ten strong, he follows the last one in and meets the rest of the ponies.

He quickly clicks on the light from his PipBuck as he says, “Okay, here’s where we’re going to have to split up. I have a map right there that I drew up with the safest route I know of. That’ll take you straight to Megamart. You can either head there and figure out what you want to do, or vector off from there. But please make your way in a way that won’t have you getting nabbed again. Wherever you go is up to you. So you have to figure that out on your own. I’d suggest steering clear of Red Eye’s forces and Usury’s goons. But, beyond that, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

He waves at the metal cabinet that’s currently open behind all of them and says, “I’ve got a bit of food and water in there for you too. But I ask that you wait until you’re at least a couple miles away before you consume it. Or at the very least hold onto your trash.”

He looks them over one at a time, holding eye contact for a few seconds with each of them as he says, “And I cannot possibly overstress how important this is… but… this never happened… you were never caught… you never saw me… and you don’t know where the Red Eye base is… understand?”

There are a few nods of agreement as a few of the ponies actually hug each other and sniffle about having their prayers answered.

But, and while Gearing is trying to ignore the nth ‘Thank Celestia’ from the group, the stallion he’d woken up first asks, “Why are you so set on trying to make this night not exist? You’re like a bona fide hero! Stole us right out from under the noses of those Red Eyes assholes!”

Gearing’s eyes narrow as he grumbles, “Firstly, do not call me that… ever.” And the tone is strong enough that it wipes the grin right off the stallion’s face who quickly nods in agreement. “Secondly, I have plans… Big plans… And they require that you’d never been caught. That Paradise never delivered you…”

“That’s the part I don’t get though; what’s all of that matter?” an older mare asks as she leans over and looks at Gearing. “What’s your real goal with all of this?”

Gearing looks at her and sighs as he just wishes they’d simply go along with it instead of asking so many questions. But, given both curious natures and general distrust of good fortune, he can understand their need for answers. He knows that, truth be told, he would want some as well as this would seem too good to be true if he was on the receiving end of it. He sits down and takes in a deep breath before he says, “I can’t tell you the specifics...” He looks around at them before he clarifies, “I won’t tell you the specifics… Both for your own good and so that my plans don’t get screwed up…”

“Plan? What kinda plan?” the mare asks with unmasked suspicion.

Gearing looks her in the face for a few moments and then says flatly, “I’m working on getting rid of slavers.”

The stallion from the quad group rolls his eyes as he waves his forehoof. “We can see that, and you’re obviously doing better than most… But, what beyond that?”

Gearing shakes his head as he looks at him. “No, I don’t mean ‘these slavers’ or ‘some slavers’ I mean… ‘slavers in general’. The system itself. The whole rotten practice. I’m talking about bringing down the house of cards.”

The young filly’s eyes go wide as her rear hits the ground hard and she asks, “You can’t seriously mean you’re wanting to get rid of all slavers?! By yourself? That’s nuts!”

Gearing looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “Is it? Is it really?” He looks around at all of them as he says, “Why is it strange to want to own the sweat from your own brow instead of some lazy bastard with a bomb around your neck getting fat off of the fruits of your labors while you’re left to die a miserable death?” He shakes his head. “Ponies managed to do it before. With mutual cooperation. For mutual benefit. We can do it again. We just have to work together instead of against one another or at each other’s expense.”

The young filly rolls her eyes as she looks at the older mare next to her and points at Gearing with a hoof. “Great… a freaking idealist… Just what the wasteland needs…”

Gearing looks at her and snaps, “Call me an idealist if you want, but I’m a realist. And the difference is I actually have a plan, and one that not only could work, but is already working. And all of you need to do nothing more than deny you ever got caught.” He shrugs. “At least for a few weeks…” He taps on his muzzle as he gives it some thought. “Yeah… a few weeks should work…A month tops if you can’t bear to wait any longer… But the longer you do hold off the better…”

The little filly raises an eyebrow as she asks, “What happens in the next few weeks?”

Gearing grins at her as he says, “I’m ruining Usury’s life, as a personal favor to Equestria and by explicit request… Going to buck her right off of that slave built throne of hers… While doing as much collateral damage to Red Eye and any other slaver organizations as I can in the process…”

The little filly’s eyes practically sparkle as she asks, “You gonna kill her? Ohhh please say ‘yes’!”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “That part’s yet to be seen. But if I can get the same results that I want with her dead, then she’s radroach chow… But if it has a higher chance of success with her alive, I might just go that route… at least for a while… but only time will tell.” He looks the group over and then says, “But this is far greater than just one pony. It’s more than Usury. It’s more than me. It’s even more than all of us here combined. I know you don’t believe me. But it is. And in the long run we’re talking countless numbers of lives saved.” He takes in a deep breath then lets it out before he says, “But that all depends on all of you… Because, honestly, you could easily screw me over by running straight to Usury, right now, and telling her what I’ve said. Hell, she might actually reward you instead of slapping another bomb collar around your neck. But, if you do, you’ll be directly responsible for this failing, and the lives it’s going to cost into infinity.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m only one buck. I can’t wage a full scale war against such a large force. So, I need your help… in the way of silence…” He puts his forehooves together and asks, “Will you help me help Equestria?”

They all stare at him for a few moments, and then around at the others of their group. And, after a few moments of silence, the portly mare comments, “You know… you didn’t have to go through that big highfalutin speech to get us to keep our mouth shut.” She looks around at the others and smirks as she says, “Fuck Usury, and the slavers. And if you can ream them and blow up their whole house, more power to you. I wish you luck. Really I do. But, and I can’t speak for everypony, but keeping my mouth shut about all this probably helps me out anyway. So I’m not going to say anything… Ever…” She looks over at the young filly and smiles as she says, “I’m just going to pretend this was one big bad dream.”

There are a few murmurs of agreement before Gearing dips his head low and says, in all sincerity, “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

As the others congregate around the metal storage cabinet and start divvying out the meager supplies within, the little filly looks at Gearing and asks, “What are you gonna do now?”

Gearing points out the door and says, “Head back to that camp and remove all traces of you being there, and then get on with the next step of my plan.”

“Will we ever see each other again?” she asks as she looks him over. She scrunches her face to the side. “And… what’s your name? What do I even call you?”

Gearing shrugs as he says, “Maybe… maybe not… Only time will tell… And as far as what to call me, don’t even worry about it.” He removes his goggles long enough to give her a wink and holds up a pinion as he says, “I’m just a figment of your imagination… We’re not even here… remember?” Then he reaches over and quickly ruffles her mane before he turns around and runs out of the door for the building.

She grumbles and pushes her mane back out of her eyes before she chases after him and hisses, “Hey, that’s not fair, you can’t just-!” but then she stops as she gets to the door to the building, looks over in the direction that he’d gone, but sees nothing. Not a single sliver of movement to be had. She looks up, and at the sky, and around everywhere she can see from here. But then she turns around and walks back to the others with her jaw hanging open. “H-he’s gone… just… Poof… disappeared!” She sniffles as she reaches up and pinches her own cheeks. “I’m not dreaming am I? This is really happening, right?”

The portly mare walks over and wraps her up in a hug as she says, “No, hun. This has all been one big bad dream… Remember?” She pulls back and has tears in the edges of her eyes as she says, “This never happened.”

It doesn’t take long for the ponies to take off from the building. A few stick together, but most of them head off as singles on their own as they plan out their own ultimate destination in their individual heads. But, even leaving separately, they head in the same general direction, following the directions laid out for them with a map that Gearing had placed in the metal cabinet and that they all had thoroughly examined before they took off. He’d not lead them astray so far. And they are all eager to not end up back in shackles again.

Because whether whatever grand crazy plan he has actually succeeds or not is beside the point. They have their freedom now, thanks to him, and quickly beat hooves as fast as they can so they can be sure to enjoy the precious gift of a second chance.

When Gearing gets back to Commander Pancake’s quarters he marches right in and steps over the downed buck as he walks towards the desk at the far end. He grabs a stack of papers from it, and hops back onto the bed as he looks down at the rotund earth pony. Gearing waves the papers at him, seeing the blank stare in his direction, before he asks, “Don’t mind if I read your mail, do you?” He waves it around a bit more as he chuckles, “Well, speak up!” A moment later he kicks back, by stretching out on the bed and leaning against the side of the shipping container, and starts quickly reading as he grins. “Thanks! You’re a real pal.” He pauses reading just long enough to look down at Pancakes and tut-tuts him, “Tut-tut, Flapjacks… laying down on the job again? Welp… Soooomepooooony’s not getting a prooomoootiooooooon!” And Gearing giggles and gets a sense of euphoria as he hears the buck make a gurgling snort sound. “I know, I’m such a pain in the ass, huh? I hear that all the time!” The buck lets out a quiet forced cough and a snort in response. Gearing looks down at Pancake and narrows his eyes as he says, “Laaaaanguaaaaage!” before flipping through the papers one after another in rapid succession as he reads through the Red Eye commander’s correspondence. Both his private messages and his official messages. Which, he quickly finds, has a variety of drafts of letters that might not have even been sent. Including the one he was working on earlier.

The little blue pegasus in Gearing’s head grins as he says, ‘Ouuuu I just love fresh juicy ammo!’ and then starts loading a machine gun with the letters as if they are belt fed magazines.

---

Footnote:

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

Please Stand By. . .

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