“This way, dahlings.” Waving the few slaves still strong enough to fight up to a walkway over a courtyard, I took my time to help each into a suitable firing position. “I know they are different, but please do not shoot the zebras. They will not hurt you again, and you will be free at the end of this.”

“No promises.” One mare grunted as she eased her pistol between two ramparts.

Having retrieved my battle saddle, I revved the mini-gun intently. “Do not make me shoot you, my dear. The new leader of the zebras has given his word, and he is a friend of mine.”

Colour draining from her face, the mare stayed silent.

“Now,” I addressed them, “the zebra will do most of the fighting. Concentrate on any at the edge of the enemy group. Shoot at those who are looking elsewhere.” Shouts and gunfire reached my ears. “Be ready, they are coming.”

The door to the courtyard burst open in a hail of gunfire, one unfortunate zebra propelled by the bullets. Half a dozen more, Naiara among them, tumbled through to scramble for cover.

Hopping up on the ramparts, I aimed at the empty doorway and let loose with everything on my saddle. The first of the Plottawans charged through the opening into my barrage, three getting cut down before they were able to return fire and drive me from my perch.

Two dozen more, advancing under cover from their vanguard, pressed into the courtyard itself. One they were all through, they immediately split into two groups, racing for two staircases in the closest corners.

Oh no. Heart thumping as I realised where those stairs would bring them out, I began tugging and pushing the slaves back the way we came. “DOWN! DOWN! THEY ARE COMING HERE!”

Tired and mistreated as they were, not all the slaves were fast enough to get off the walkway before the Plottawans bubbled up at the other end. The grousing mare, and four others, died as the enemy reached out level guns first.

Two unicorn slaves had conjured weak magic shields to guard our retreat, but they visibly cracked as we backed out way down the ramp. I took my shots where I could, but spent more time supporting the starving captives.

The Plottawans took up stations along the walkway, where we had been, looking down into the courtyard itself, where Naiara's zebra contingent were battling the other dozen.

“NAIARA, BEHIND!”

Heeding my warning, the zebra flipped and cantered erratically, confounding the aim of the Plottawans. She and her clanmates cavorted their way to us, at the doors to the other entrance to the courtyard, before we were driven back entirely into the building.

With one last, mournful look at the fallen zebra body as the doors closed, Naiara shook her head. “No good. We've got the numbers, just, but they know this place better than we do. We need a better plan than meeting them head on.”

“I am open to suggestions, dahling.” The closed doors held my gaze as I spoke, not daring to look away in case of another push.

“Let's regroup with Cept and the others for now. They've been here longer than I have.”

Forcing a chuckle as we jogged down the hall, I winked at her. “It is too bad we do not have our cute little Boss Colt here now.”

“You're fantasizing now?!”

“Not like that, dahling. He likes his plans.” A shot from behind dropped another slave. I spun and loosed a volley that drove our pursuers back around the corner.

Calling out in zebra, Naiara suddenly changed direction. “Head for the ballroom!”

Panting, the slaves struggled to follow. Only three were left now. Seeing their weakness, the chasing Plottawans surged forwards, falling among the slaves and knocking their weapons away.

Before the screaming ponies could be dragged away, Cept and two other zebra stallions appeared in the middle of the Plottawans. Throwing off their stealth cloaks, they lashed out in all directions with hoof, blade, and even Plottawa-owned firepower. Another two Plottawans died before they swarmed the zebra.

Seeing the danger, the two other stallions pushed Cept away from the rumble, back towards me. Shocked, he tried to keep fighting, but stopped when one of the zebra held up a small metal sphere.

“Cept, get back!”

My warning came just too late, as the explosion ripped apart the dogpile of slave, slaver, and zebra. Cept himself was taken off his hooves, rocketing straight into me. The two of us went down in a heap. The acrid smell of burning horse hair kept me focused, as my hooves stamped down on Cept's smouldering tail. When the embers were extinguished, we took in the explosion's outcome. Bodies were strewn all over the floor, not all in pieces. Charred zebra flesh lay next to melted uniforms and blackened pony forms.

Grimacing, Cept bowed his head to the dead slaves, and his clan brothers. “I could not save them.”

“Such is life, Cept.” I tugged at his shoulder. “You still have your clan to lead.”

Bruised and battered by the explosion, we limped down the corridor to the ballroom, before more Plottawans could follow. Inside, we found Naiara standing alone in the centre of the room. She held a rifle in her hooves, clearly uncomfortable with it, but she paid it little attention beyond holding it.

Following her gaze, we saw what was distracting her.

On the stage, wings spread in triumph, stood a pegasus in Plottawan attire. She was not alone. A score of Plottawans stood in a half-ring around her, all pointing their weapons at Naiara. One third changed to aim at us, so I slowly and deliberately released the mouth trigger of my battle saddle.

Flapping her wings, the Overmare rose in the air, looking down on us with a sneer. “You poor little squatters thought you could take Plottawa from me? My city? My slaves?”

“You're a Stable pony.” Naiara snarled. “How could you join up with slavers in the first place?”

Lazing haughtily in the air, the kept us waiting for a few seconds before she answered. “It was necessary to get back what was mine in the first place: My Stable.”

“The way I heard it, they kicked you out.” Naiara countered.

Willow Wisp's face contorted in anger for a moment, but calmed again when the doors behind Cept and I opened to admit the chasing slaver squad, weapons up and ready. “That was not their decision to make. I am the Overmare, not just any Stable pony. My treatment at their hooves was utterly unjust, thanks in no small part to the actions of one particularly useless filly.”

Cassie was not lying. She truly does not like Snowflake. “And who might that filly be, pegasus?”

Said pegasus' lips tightened up. “Nopony of consequence to you all. Now, I have nothing but respect for zebra, but I cannot allow you all to leave here after freeing my slaves. You will take their place. Our stock needs to be maintained, after all.” She put a hoof over her heart. “Oh, don't worry. Unlike the way you treated the slaves, you will be fed and cared for. My predecessor Peanut, may he rest in peace, was right in that regard. Mistreated merchandise lowers the value and reduces the chance of repeat business.” She turned her eyes skyward. “A pity that he is gone. He was a very intelligent pony. He can at least rest easy to know that his legacy is in my capable hooves.”

“While in your 'capable hooves',” an unseen voice echoed around the ballroom, “Plottawa fell to me and my clan, winged pony.”

Willow Wisp cast about in search of the voice. “Who's there?”

A zebra stealth cloak opened up at the far ballroom doors, revealing Atesh. His red robes covered his left side. “The one who took this place from you, 'Overmare'.” His left leg emerged from under his robes, showing the Pipbuck he wore on his wrist. “And here is something else I have taken from your 'capable hooves'.”

With a victorious grin, and a flourish of limbs, Atesh disappeared under the stealth cloak again. The door behind him opened.

Thrusting a hoof at the empty doorway, Willow Wisp shrieked at her Plottawan troops. “GET HIM! I want my Pipbuck!”

Fully half of her gathered troops charged for the doorway, yelling taunts at the elder zebra. Once they were through, she turned back to us. “As for you three. I am not the first to advocate this option, but...” Wrapping her lips around a pistol, she tongued the trigger.

I cried out as white hot pain burned through my shoulder. Cept grabbed for me as my strength evaporated, but couldn't reach before I toppled over, battle saddle cutting into my side.

“Schwarzwald! Where were you hit?”

Hissing, I rolled over to relieve pressure on the wound, feeling sticky blood on my shoulder as I did.

Through agony-fogged eyes, I saw Willow Wisp disdainfully examine her pistol. “There is some appeal to this, certainly, but I wouldn't call it addictive.” Holstering her weapon, she pointed at the slavers standing behind Cept and I. “Dispose of them, and return my Plottawa to me.”

The slavers didn't move.

“What's wrong?” She gestured again. “Capture them!”

The air around the Plottawan squad shimmered, and they collapsed. Their weapons didn't, however, and opened fire on the remaining slavers on the stage.

“What!” Willow Wisp shrilled as a stray bullet smashed the light next to her.

The phantom weapons danced and spun in the air, firing at anyone in a uniform. Catching on quickly, the slavers returned fire. The cloaked zebra responded by physically throwing the guns at the slavers, then charging them under cover of invisibility.

Without the weapons as targets, the Plottawans had nothing to aim at. Instead, they tried to take out the enemies they could see. Namely Naiara, Cept, and myself. If Cept hadn't tuck-and-rolled me further from the stage, a trio of shots would have put new holes in my head.

I still couldn't lift my limb, and my battle saddle was off-kilter and unfireable. There was little I could do in the fight except hope I didn't bleed out.

The stage had descended into half a dozen melee brawls between de-cloaked zebra and disarmed slavers. One powerful buck landed a hammerblow on the throat of a dancing zebra, whose eyes bugged out as she choked on her own windpipe.

Another zebra was fighting two Plottawans at once, ricocheting between the two of them with lightning fast jabs. The smaller of the two slavers made a grab for his back, but caught a backhoof in the chest for his trouble. The other one, taking advantage of the distraction, was more successful, and trapped the zebra stallion's front leg with his. The two grapplers used their free hooves to box, neither letting go while the other had face left to punch.

Unable to fight effectively and watch over me, Cept had gone on the offensive instead. He and Naiara moved in tandem. Charging two Plottawans, Cept threw himself into a four-hooved dropkick which staggered both enemies. Naiara vaulted off Cept's back to flip over to the other side of the slaver pair, then the two zebra converged. Cept went high with a right jab, Naiara scissor-kicked low.

Cept's opponent got a hoof up to block, then followed through with a vicious headbutt, rocking the clan leader's head back. Naiara's combatant was not so lucky. Chopped down by the scissor, an audible socket dislocation preceding her scream.

Not letting up, Naiara rolled back to her hooves, then torpedo'd straight over her downed foe for a hoofpoint jab into the nape of the one fighting Cept. Spasming from the nerve strike, he was unable to guard against the machine-gun barrage of mismatched zebra hooves drilling up and down his body, culminating in a cartilage-crushing cross. The two best friends were moving to assist their brethren before the body even hit the floor.

“What are you doing?” The disbelieving cry from on high drew my attention. The Overmare was hovering above the battle. The barrel of her pistol shook as more of her slavers went down. “Fight back, damn you!” She fired a shot, but jerked as she did so.

It made no difference. The last of the Plottawan soldiers were knocked out or killed. The mare with the dislocation now sported a nasty bruise on her temple, courtesy of one zebra who was annoyed by the wailing. It hadn't been without losses on our side either. As many zebra bodies as pony littered the floor.

There was only one pony left to deal with. Willow Wisp floated back and forth, looking for a way out, while zebra guarded the two doors.

Naiara and Cept stood in the centre of the room. “Give up, Overmare. You're beaten.”

“I am not beaten. You may have bested these soldiers, but I won't be stopped until I get my due!” She was spinning in place, trying to keep every zebra in her view at once.

“I promise you will not be harmed if you give up now.” Cept tried the diplomatic route.

She was having none of it. “I told you that I am not beaten! Don't talk to me as if I were.”

“What is wrong with her?” Naiara groused, not bothering to talk directly to the pony anymore.

Having pulled myself into a sitting position, though still not putting any weight on my wounded leg, I waved towards the door where Atesh had exited. “She is stalling, dahling, so that her other fighters can come rescue her.”

“NoI'mnot.” Willow Wisp's reply came far too quickly, with the words merging in her rush.

Not acknowledging the Overmare, Naiara was digging through the pockets of the Plottawans. “Come on, one of them's gotta have one... AHA!” She rose with a grin, brandishing a knife and a healing potion.

“Cept, watch the Overmare. I'm gonna fix up Schwarzwald.”

“Too late!” Seizing her moment, Willow Wisp soared down, jamming her pistol in her mouth as she dove, and landed beside me. Clicking the safety off, she jammed the barrel against my forehead. “Stay back, or she dies.”

Well, this is not very nice. Still weak, I tested my injury while Willow Wisp was frantically staring down Naiara and Cept. Ngn, still weak, but... Swinging, I rammed my hoof into the Overmare's chin, moving the gun barrel just enough that the instinctual shot went over my head rather than through it. Once she fell away, clutching at her jaw, my hoof dropped. Cept was on her instantly. The pistol clattered in the other direction.

I couldn't hold it up any longer. “Ow.”

Naiara approached me with the knife. “Sorry, but I gotta get the bullet out before you get the potion.”

My grimace was half smile. “Scars are sexy, Naiara. I'll remember you gave me this one. Do what you have to.”

The pain of the bullet, doubled by the probing knife, had incredible clarity. Every shredded nerve sang out as the blade brushed by them. To distract myself, I focused on more pleasurable images.

Naiara's flushed face as she concentrated.

Sweat running down Cept's chiselled jaw, set firm as he guarded the Overmare.

Willow Wisp, helpless beneath a more powerful body.

The sweet relief of the bullet tapping against the ballroom floor.

The way the light caught the potion as Naiara poured some into the wound itself.

Much better. Taking the rest to drink, I nodded my thanks to the mare.

She nodded back, and helped me up. “Still gonna need to take it easy. I don't think one potion'll do the trick.”

The rest of the Plottawans burst through the door, knocking aside the zebra guarding it.

My mini-gun roared until it was empty.

Turning away from the corpses, I quirked an eyebrow at her. “I think you are right. I will take it easy.”

She couldn't help herself, and let out a short laugh. “Show off.”

“Ptoo!”

Three pairs of eyes looked to the Overmare, just as her tooth fragment hit the floor. A dribble of blood ran from the corner of her mouth as she glared at us. “Don't think you have won. I will turn this around.”

“Perhaps you will have the chance if you play nice.” She shuddered as I bent down to lick the blood from her mouth. “I have some questions for you.”

Leaning back, her expression was anything but cooperative. “Don't touch me.”

I ignored her. “Who is the filly you spoke of before, and why do you hate her so?” Naiara caught my eye. We already know the first, but the second part should be interesting.

“...Her name is Snowflake. She is a less-than-average unicorn from my Stable that has been a drain on its resources since the day she was born.”

“Is that why you hate her?” Naiara pressed.

“She isn't worth hate, but she has inconvenienced me greatly. My opinion of her is justifiably less than favourable because her actions led directly to my ousting from my position, and from my Stable.” She rubbed the spot where her Pipbuck had been while speaking.

“What do you mean?” Snowflake was not in the Stable when you were exiled. How could she cause it?

“Snowflake found something, deep in my Stable. Something that had no business being there. Something that should not exist at all.” She grit her teeth, then immediately regretted it. “So, of course, that utterly useless girl was the one to find it, and all of a sudden she was the talk of the Stable. Rumour and hearsay ran out of control almost immediately. Everyone with an agenda wanted to get her on their side and for their cause. She destabilised everything I had worked to build. I could not allow that, so I did the most sensible thing I could.”

Now, we are getting somewhere. “What did you do?”

“Naturally, I had her killed.”

What? Naiara, Cept, and I all looked at each other. That makes no sense.

Seeing our poor poker faces, Willow Wisp chuckled and continued. “Oh, not directly, no. That might have come back on me. Rather, I had her spirited away into the Wasteland without telling anyone. Spun her a tale of the world outside the Stable walls. 'You won't be alone', I told her. I even threw in a little voice crack to show her I was 'sincere'. She needed to have something to keep her trying... and failing, until she failed too often and died. Her family was suspicious when she vanished, but they could prove nothing. She, and the secret she found, would trouble me no more. Except...”

“'Except'?”

Willow Wisp was no master of deception herself. Barefaced hatred erupted across her face. “Except she didn't die like she was supposed to. Everything would have been fine if she had. The matter would have been settled and my Stable would continue on as normal... but she didn't. That is why I hate her.”

Dumbfounded, Naiara struggled to form a response. “You... hate Snow... because she lived? You want her dead, and she didn't die. You try to get her killed, and she's the bad guy?”

The Overmare wriggled in Cept's grip. “My plans are more important than her. She wouldn't have been missed. Snowflake did nothing of note in her entire Stable life. She's was a placeholder, and no more.” She smiled bitterly. “Even worse, now it appears that she has caused me even more trouble, by sending you all to my Plottawa. Don't try to deny it, you just told me you call her 'Snow'. So, am I still the bad guy if she costs me my home and livelihood twice, zebra?”

“Yes, you crazy bitch!” Naiara's hoof stomped down an inch from Willow Wisp's head. “You're trying to kill my friend, because she wouldn't fall in line for your plans. Right now, that's a serious pet peeve for me!”

Nonplussed, the Overmare barely batted an eye at the threatening gesture. “I cannot overstate how little I care about your 'pet peeve'.”

Hauling her upright, Cept marched her towards the doors. “And we do not care about your anger at a mare who did nothing wrong. We will take you back to Snowflake, and she will decide your fate.”

Redoubling her efforts to escape, the Overmare gnashed and shook. “You think I will let her talk down to ME? Decide anything for ME? I am the Overmare, and she is nothing!”

My hearty laugh drew a glare from the pegasus. “How wrong you are, Willow Wisp. Dear Snowflake will show you the scale of your mistake.” It will be a good lesson, for you and for her. She will finally understand just how far she has come from the poor little Stable filly in the snow. “Here is a small taste.”

I pulled out my communicator. “Come in, uh... base. This is Schwarzwald.”

Esto's clipped mannerisms were even more obvious through the radio. “We read you, Schwarzwald. What is your situation?”

Too bad I do not know this one. I cannot tease her. “We have leader of the Plottawan slavers. We will be bringing her back with us.”

There was a slight pause. “...'her'? Isn't Peanut the leader of the Plottawans?”

“You must keep up, dahling.” I smiled to myself. “Peanut is trapped inside Lethbridle's walls. Willow Wisp is in charge now.”

“Now and forever!” The Overmare called out. Then she doubled over as Naiara slugged her in the stomach.

“I see.” Papers rustled on the other end of the call. “If you have Willow Wisp, what about Atesh and the zebra?”

Naiara made a 'one sec' movement, and disappeared through the hall. For a dozen moments, nothing could be heard but the static of the communicator, and the Overmare sucking in needed oxygen.

“BINN TUSAA!” We all perked up at Naiara's bellow, before she stormed back into the room. “Atesh is gone!”

“What?” Cept forgot himself and let go of Willow Wisp. “What do you mean? Where did he go?”

“Away, Cept.” Naiara pointed in a random direction. “He's got a stealth cloak, so he took off. Still got the lunatic's Pipbuck too!”

“Hello?” Esto called across the channel. “Did someone mention a Pipbuck?”

“My Pipbuck.” The Overmare growled from the floor.

“Shaddup.” Naiara commanded, before grabbing the communicator from me. “Atesh is gone. We've still got Willow Wisp, for all the good she does us.”

“In that case,” Esto interrupted. “I have a message for you from Wings.”

“Wings?” I perked up. She is finished with Whinniepeg already? Why did she not call us directly?” “What is the message?”

“She and Bosco would like you to meet them at Lethbridle's north gate. You should bring Willow Wisp with you.”

“Why?” Naiara looked as confused as Cept or I.

“She says that she has learned something new, and needs to talk with you all about it.”

Naiara still looked puzzled. “What about Snow and Undertow? They were with them too.”

“They are looking into other leads from the new information. All four are fine and safe.” Esto's voice was flat. “Please, meet up with Wings and Bosco as soon as you can.”

Cept passed the Overmare to me. “I must speak with our clan. I will be back shortly.”

“Wait!” Tossing the communicator back to me, Naiara hurried after him. “I better come too. The new Elder should address the whole clan, after all.”

Conflicting emotions ran across Cept's face when he heard the title, but he steeled himself with a nod. The two zebra closed the door behind them, leaving me and the Overmare along among the bodies.

Dragging her over to the stage, I sat on the steps with battle saddle pointed at her. “Did you enjoy your short time as mistress of Plottawa, Overmare?”

Mindful of the bruise in her gut, she stood on shaky legs. “You could still let me go, you know. When I get my Stable back, I will have access to technology and supplies that simply don't exist in the Wasteland anymore. I'm sure we could work out an agreement?”

“I already have a rich backer,” even if she doesn't have a cap to her name right now, “and I think it would be much more fun to see what happens when I bring you to Snowflake.”

Sniffing in derision, she turned her head way. “Wastelanders truly are savages.”

“It is true,” I agreed. “we do live in interesting times.” Snowflake will happily make that clear to you, I am sure.

“GOT THAT RIGHT, LADY!” Bursting in through the opposite door from that which the zebra had used, a quartet of uncomfortably familiar fliers soared up to the ceiling.

“McCoy’s Monsters?” I was on my hooves immediately, but the sad click of my empty gatling gun did little except draw smiles.

One griffon, straw-coloured from head to claw, smirked. “Looks like we missed a hell of a party. Too bad, but we’re on the job. Our boss wants us to bring back the boss of Plottawa. Point 'em out for us, will ya?”

Forgetting myself, I looked to the Overmare. What does Latvi want with her?

The straw griffon noticed where I was looking. “Well, that's lucky. We'll be going now.” He waved two of the other Monsters over to pick up the Overmare, who gave a startled neigh.

“WAIT!” My charge towards the door, to cut them off, was derailed when the fourth griffon swooped close past me and sent me tumbling.

As quick as they arrived, the four griffons exited the way they'd come, now with a fifth pair of wings in their midst.

“Schwarzwald!” Cept and Naiara, leading the rest of their clan, barrelled through the other doors. “We heard you shout.”

“Where's the Overmare?”

Waving off the zebra who offered a helping hoof, I stood and spat out my useless mouth trigger. “Sorry, dahlings. Latvi's griffons came. They took her.”

“What in the hell for?”

“I honestly do not know.” What are you planning, Latvi?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~