PART ONE: https://pastebin.com/DK21fjWz
PART TWO: https://pastebin.com/c348Pg2X
PART THREE: https://pastebin.com/AbeCtUte
PART FOUR: HERE

>"Beautiful."
>The morning sun streaming in through Sterling's office window certainly is.
>One of the most beautiful things you've ever seen.
>It caught your eyes as you finished your report and now you can't seem to look away.
>Even the music in your head pauses to appreciate the sight.
>There should be something to fill that pause... some instrument. A harp? Perhaps -
>But that's not what he's talking about.
>You tear your eyes away from the light and nod.
"I agree, sir. Their progress is astounding.
"Considering you told me to prepare them for this visitor just a few days ago -"
>You wince as you hear a flute out of nowhere.
>From nowhere.
>One only you can hear.
"- I am surprised at how well the Diamond Tiara and Sweetie Belle are coming along."
>Sterling grins.
>"And..." he smiles wider, "are they behaving themselves?"
>You pause a moment.
>The truth? Or...
"Diamond Tiara's spirit is broken, sir."
>The truth.
>Yet a snare rattles off a progressive beat in your head that seems to imply otherwise.
"She can't do anything *but* behave herself. Sweetie Belle..."
>Or...
>"Yes?"
"... is too preoccupied to act out. Since Miss Pommel spoke to them, Sweetie Belle has been grooming Diamond every day.
"Helping her shower and eat, brushing her hair... she seems to believe that this may be the only way to save her friend."
>And Diamond might be starting to believe it too.
>There wasn't quite *hope* as such in her eyes when you spoke to her earlier, but there was *life*.
>Not the simple acceptance or deadness that hurt your soul to see.
>Sterling's grin falters.
>His brows furrow.
>Not in anger - not *true* anger, not at first - but in... in long-missing introspection.
>You've known the man long enough - longer than you've lived in this world - to know his thoughts.
>Who does he hope to sell?
>Diamond Tiara? His favoured whore - though no longer?
>So he doesn't have to punish her any further?
>Or Sweetie Belle?
>The newcomer? A mare he's never even spoken to - and has no interest in ever speaking to.
>Which one can he afford to not punish without appearing weak?
>You know him too well, and his thoughts leave you sick.
>So self-centred. So callous. So *simple* and reactionary and uncaring.
>Barely conscious enough of his own preferences to acknowledge his concern for Diamond Tiara, yet totally lacking the understanding that he's the one that put her in this situation - or can save her from it.
>He could have...
>He *was* your friend. He wasn't always like this. He couldn't have been.
>At one point he was full of laughter and kindness. Generosity and loyalty. All replaced with an unending desire for power.
>What dregs of those noble feelings make him uncomfortable whenever they rise to threaten his perception of reality, to make him realize he might actually have cared about one of his ponies.
>And he doesn't like it.
>What Sterling can't articulate, what he can't understand, makes him *furious*.
>It makes him stupid.
>It makes him easy to manipulate.
"Sir, if I may propose something... if you wish to be rid of *both* of the mares..."
>Sterling frowns.
>And then he understands.
>"Maybe with any luck we can sell them both," he smirks. "Maybe we'll even offer a two-for-one deal. That'll solve things."
>A simple solution.
>A *possible* solution.
>He'll want to milk every last dollar out of the buyer.
>You bow your head.
"That sounds like the best option."
>Assuming the buyer is willing to take them both.
>Assuming Sterling doesn't get greedy and demand too much for the 'deal', driving the buyer to look at another pony altogether.
>You will...
>*Sun*, you haven't been able to think of something yet, but you won't stop trying.
>Some way to keep them both alive. And *here*.
>Sweetie Belle *must* find her friends.
>And Diamond Tiara... she needs help.
>You can feel her guilt every time she opens her mouth.
>Every time she raises her head. With every single thing she does.
>You don't have any faith she would manage on her own.
>There must be something.
"That is all I have to report. Was there anything else I can help you with, sir?"
>You have to find a way to get the music out of your head.
>It's making it hard to think.
>Your own thoughts, your instincts even - at times - are overpowered by a swelling of sound.
>Even now, as you try to push back the music, a piano joins the orchestra. A new set of strings on a slightly different pitch than all the others.
>And there *are* others.
>So many more than what you had been hearing just a few days ago, and more every minute. From a mere handful to hundreds of instruments playing in sync with each other.
>The music had... had not faded away as such... no... but...
>It had come to be natural.
>You heard it when you needed it, but were able to let it slide into the background when you had to focus on other things. But these last few days...
>"I said you can go," Sterling barks.
"Oh, sorry. Thank you, sir."
>You turn to leave.
>"Are you..."
>You sigh internally.
>Of course.
>"... okay?"
>What.
>"You seem... you don't seem great."
"Thank you for your concern, sir."
>You look back and try to give him a reassuring smile, to not look week.
"I'll be fine."
>Why...?
>Why did he have to ask now?
>Why did he have to look like he truly cared about you?
>A booming rumble drives those questions out of your head.
>A new drum. A large one.
>Beating steadily like a slow heartbeat.
>Like your father's heart when you were a child and would rest your head on his chest.
>Full and powerful.
>Sterling isn't your problem now.
>You need...
>Many things. Different things.
>That aren't here.
>You need...
>First things first.
>You need to see if Derpy has come back.
>Then...
>Maybe you'll take one of your suppressants.
>You...
>This is too much.
>You make your way to the common area you share with the other mares here.
>And that's as far as you can get.
>The rolling thunder of cymbals that don't exist makes your legs quiver.
>There's an empty seat.
>You take it.
>Try to listen to the others.
>To let their voices drown out the orchestra in your head.
>You'll get used to it. You will. And you would never wish for it to be gone, ever again.
>You *need* it.
>*Everypony* needs it.
>But right now, it's just too much. Too sudden.
>"-are you sure?" you hear one of the mares gasp.
>You close your eyes and focus on that voice, even if the actual words don't sink in.
>"She's missing? How did you hear?"
>"When I was out last night. Double Dip told me she has seen Oil Base in two days - and they *always* meet up every night."
>"Oh stars," one of the mare's gasps. "Do you think...?"
>"What?"
>"That the sheriff or his men..."
>"I hope not. Probably. Don't think about it."
>You try not to either.
>Your hooves are full already.

"Before y'all go, Ah got somethin' Ah gotta ask."
>"Do we want breakfast?" Karl asks. "I was wondering when you'd offer. I nice home-cooked meal from a nice lady -"
>Other Carl - with a 'c' - gives him a shove but that don't take the crooked smile off his face none.
>"Give it a rest, you *know* she's not interested."
>Well... maybe some other time you'd've found the attention flatterin', but...
>You give a little snort.
>The men from the construction crew ain't gonna be 'round forever, an' you ain't that kind of mare.
>Never really got a chance to find out the kind you are, but you know it ain't that.
>Y'don't take no offence though, either at the flirtin' or the rescue.
>"I'm not complaining about the pay, you understand. I *love* the fresh food, but I'm just tired of having to cook my own eggs," Karl sighs an' throws up his hands like he always does when he's playin' 'round. "And you - *you* keep burning them, Carl, so -"
"Tell y'what -"
>If it weren't such a sight, you'd feel bad 'bout gigglin' like a filly.
"Y'all're really helpin' us out, so Ah can talk to Roma an' see if she's got time -"
>"Yes," the Carls answer at the same time. "Please."
>Really *don't* feel bad for gigglin' like you do.
"Okay then, Ah'll talk to her."
>You do a quick look 'round an' count.
>There's twelve - no, there's Shawn standin' way over there where he don't gotta talk to nopony or even pretend you exist.
>Never thought you'd see him again after his first big argument with Sand Bag, but hunger can make anypony - or human - do things he'd never believe.
>In this case, put 'side his hatred an' help out.
>That makes thirteen today.
>Thirteen of Jack's crew waitin' for y'all to finish up watchin' the sunrise an' get to work.
>More'n usual.
>Always a lil' different every mornin', who's here to help out.
>Y'know it depends on their workload down at the road an' how many don't got work've their own they gotta do.
"Why don't you two do me a favor an' ask 'round to see if the rest of the folks want the same? Ah'm sure Roma'll be able to whip up breakfast for those've you that're interested."
>"And if she's too busy?" Carl asks.
"Then Ah guess..."
>Don't know how it looks to them, but you wink.
"- Ah'll just have to cook for you."
>They laugh.
>Well. Whatever. Y'were just playin' 'round like Karl was.
>Cookin' up a meal for a bunch've hungry folks don't mean nothin' except you're returnin' a favor.
"Can't promise it'll be all that good, but at least it'll be better'n Sweetie Belle'd do. Ah *can* promise that!"
>"Sweetie Belle?" Karl asks, with a wiggle of his eyebrows that DON'T MEAN NOTHIN' WHOLESOME. "I haven't met her. Could you..."
>Don't realize the expression you're makin' 'til he stops talkin' with a sad look on his face and Carl puts a hand on his shoulder.
>You shake away your frown an' his fumbled apology.
"Ain't like that."
>"I didn't know, I'm -"
"Nah, Ah just said it ain't like that."
>Y'do your best to smile.
"She's fine. In town somewhere, Ah hope. Just haven't seen her in a while is all."
>Won't be too much longer.
>Can't ever forget what she said on the TV, what you saw when you stayed the night with Scootaloo.
>She's comin'. She's here for you.
>Y'all are all gonna be together again soon.
>Thought of it almost makes you wanna cry, for how long it's been an' for how happy you're gonna be.
>"Oh," Carl gasps. "Good. Still -"
"Ah'm the one what brought her up. Don't got nopony for myself to blame if it makes me sad for a bit. Now y'all get on to work an' Ah'll ask Roma 'bout cookin' up those eggs for you. Guessin' you want your bread toasted up too, or -"
>Karl nods, but Carl holds up a hand.
>"Wait, didn't you mean to ask us something?"
"Oh, dang! Yeah, there's a rumor goin' 'round that y'all might have to head out soon? Is that true?"
>The two men exchange awkward looks.
>Yeah, that's a yes.
>DANG.
>An' just when everything's goin' so *well*!
>"That's the thing," Carl sighs, "We don't know how much longer we can help out here, which is why so many of us came today. Might be our last chance to earn some eggs and bread."
"What's goin' on?"
>"Jack is getting a lot of pressure to speed things up."
"So that gov'ment asshole can look better?"
>He shakes his head.
>"No. Well, probably, but that wouldn't phase him."
>"We're needed out West," Karl says. "There's some serious stuff going down and from what we're hearing Princess Cadence won't allow us to move our troops through the portals."
"Well... Ah don't mean to start nothin', but -"
>"No, no, that's fair," Karl cuts you off. "I can see why she wouldn't trust us, even with the cease-fire, but that means there are a lot of roads and bridges that we've got to shore up so we can get soldiers into California."
>That... don't really mean much to you.
>You've heard 'bout it - same as you'd heard 'bout the Peaks of Peril back in Equestria, but still don't mean nothin'.
"What's goin' on there?"
>"They're trying to secede," Carl growls.
"They don't wanna be part of this country no more?"
>"*Some* don't. Unfortunately, they're the ones in power."
>He shakes his head an' sighs deep.
>"Never thought I'd see this happening in my own country."
>"Jack is going to be pushing us hard from here on," Karl says, puttin' a comfortin' hand on his friend's shoulder, "so we'll only be able to come up to help in the evenings, if that. Mostly. Might still be a day here or there where some of us are free."
"Well..."
>The whole California thing still don't mean much to you, but you can see it's troublin' them.
"... Ah wish you'd said somethin' to us earlier. If y'all need help, Ah'm sure -"
>Karl shakes his head.
>"Thanks for the offer, but -"
>Y'swirl 'round 'fore you even hear the sound of little foals' hooves stampeding your way, 'fore they can start callin' your name.
>Their panicked voices are a rollin' wall of noise, shoutin' out for every mare or stallion they see.
>You run their way.
"What's goin' on!?"
>There's Mica - an' sure as the sun shines you know he's the one behind all this.
"Where were y'all!? What'd -"
>"I thought we might get our cutie marks!" he shouts out, seein' your eyes on him. "That's why we snuck out while everypony else -"
>One've the fillies grabs him by the mouth an' holds tight.
>You'd laugh if they weren't all so panicked - an' not just 'bout whatever mischief he was 'bout to confess to.
>"We saw something!" the filly yells over Mica's muffled voice. "Come quick!"
"Where?"
>"Down by the road!"
>Your hooves are already movin'.
>Wouldn't be nothin' to make the foals act like this.
>They've all seen there share of troubles.
>Foals come runnin' along, an' some've the adults too.
>Carl, too. An' Karl.

"Beige sheets?"
>You look up and down the aisle.
>This might be the biggest store in town, but it still doesn't have a huge selection.
>Not like the stores you'd been to in the cities.
>Or back in Equestria, where a pony would have a whole shop dedicated to just one or two things, depending on their talents.
>Not one aisle.
>For *all* bedding.
>No, that's not fair.
>There's another with blankets and comforters.
>"Might as well," Dr. Alda - no, *Daniel* agrees.
>You aren't at work yet.
>This is work *related*, but it's not *work*.
>Sometimes it's so hard to separate the two.
>You close your eyes and clamp down on those stray thoughts.
>*Daniel.*
>You husband's name is Daniel and you are *not* going to let yourself think otherwise until you're at the clinic.
>Though you're both dressed for work... and going there right after, but...
>No!
>Not until you're there.
>It's easier this time.
>It's growing easier every day.
>"Well?"
>HECK.
>What were you doing?
>Daniel nudges you with his thigh.
"What?"
>"Change your mind?"
>Right. The sheets.
"No. Beige is fine."
>You grab two sets off the shelf and toss them in the shopping cart.
>Just two.
>Daniel never was able to get clarification on the third pony and you'd talked him into holding off on preparing anything for her.
>Why waste the clinic funds if it was just a mistake?
>A mistake that *was* made on every email he got, but...
>No, don't start second-guessing yourself now.
>He wants to be as prepared as possible and you agree. Usually.
>But sometimes... sometimes you've got to keep him in check.
>You worked hard to convince him to hold onto that money for now. And -
>"Or maybe we should get two different colors, because -"
>You shake your head.
"I'm sure it'll be fine. I don't know know what their accommodations were like with Dr. Stiers, but here they'll just have to make do with beige sheets and our guest room."
>"You mean my den."
"*You* mean my reading room."
>The two of you stare off for a few seconds before laughing.
>"I guess it doesn't matter if we never got around to setting it up for either," Daniel snorts.
"No, we never had time..."
>"We've been in this house for..." he has to count it off on his fingers "... almost three years now."
>You shrug.
"And somehow we never had time."
>"We might now, with two extra doctors."
"But we won't have the room anymore."
>Daniel runs his hand through his short beard and mumbles under his breath.
"Mind repeating that so I can hear it?"
>"Well, I was just wondering, do Quality Control and Informed Consent really need to stay with us? What if we turned one of the exam rooms at the clinic into a bedroom for them."
"Nooooo, we can't do that!"
>"But -"
"You know we can't. It's not polite. Besides..."
>"What?"
>You drop your voice and look around.
>There's no one around, but you still take a second to word things carefully.
"... you know we can't. It wouldn't be safe."
>"Nonsense."
"Leaving them alone? At night?"
>"They wouldn't be alone," Daniel snorts. "We *do* have a night crew. All human, too, so they wouldn't be 'unattended'."
>He flips his hands in some nonsensical gesture like that means something.
>"On a more practical level, they would always be on hand for emergencies."
>You firm yourself up and stand as straight and tall as you can.
>That puts your chin somewhere on the level with his belly button instead of glaring down angrily as it would have at idiot doctors back home, but it's the posture that counts.
"That would be a mistake and you know it."
>"Because -"
"You *know* why."
>Doc - *Daniel* nods slowly.
>"Didn't really mean it, you know," he says, turning away slightly to grab some pillows off the top shelf.
"I know."
>"They probably wouldn't cause in hassle at the clinic." 
"Do you want to risk it?"
>"... noooo," he sighs. "Fine. But it would be more practical in emergencies."
"We live five minutes away, Daniel."
>"Five minutes might make a difference in a real emergency."
"Daniel..."
>"Okay, okay!" he surrenders, holding his hands up. "They'll stay with us. Now, should we get a third set of bedding, in case..."

>Bellowing trumpets drown out everything for a moment.
>They're short-lived but leave your head aching and ears ringing.
>Even though they aren't real.
>"I think I'll turn him down," you hear, once you *can* hear, "if he asks again."
>It takes you a more than a moment to identify the voice.
>Too long.
>It's easier to open your eyes and glance over at the voice.
>Gilded Lily gives you a little smile as she sits down next to you, before turning her head away.
>"I mean, it was fun," she continues, "but three outings in almost as many nights? I didn't know what to expect and it was great and all, but..."
>"Yeah," another of the mares agrees. "That's a bit much. Is he trying to romance you or something?"
>"I don't know," Gilded murmurs. "Maybe. He doesn't seem to have a marefriend."
>"*Girl*friend," the other mare corrects. "Most of the men that come to us aren't really into ponies, or they would have bought one for themselves already."
>Not entirely true.
>Some of the Stable's clients just like *variety*.
>But you keep your mouth shut.
>Gilded Lily's murmured "oh" sounds quite disappointed enough as it is.
>If she has hope her client is trying to take her away from all this, how can you steal that away from her?
>"Besides," the other mare continues, "always leave 'em wanting or they'll get bored with you. Some of them like the chase and want you to fall in love with them. That's why *I* usually stop for the week once I hit my quota."
>"And *that* is why you share a room with four other ponies," a new voice growls. "If you want anything good in life, you have to work for it. Do a little extra."
>"I'm happy with three meals a day and a roof over my head," the other laughs back.
>It sounds almost like a chime.
>"Besides," she carries on, "a few of my clients like to take me shopping, so..."
>"When's the last time they bought you anything good?"
>"You mean jewellery? Gadgets? That kind of crap? Heck no, give me a nice blanket to curl up in any day."
>A sigh of imagined comfort, echoed swiftly by a sigh of disgust from the other mare.
>"Wait, really? Gilded Lily jumps back in. "Your customers take you *shopping*?"
>"Sometimes," the pair answer, just a heartbeat out of unison.
>"Changing your mind about turning him down?" one giggles. "I mean..."
>Beside you, Gilded Lily shakes her head.
>"No way. I... I don't think it's safe right now. I mean, when was the last time either of you went out?"
>"Last week," one answers.
>"Okay," the other sighs, "I admit, it's been a while. You new girls have caught everyone's attention."
>Gilded nods slowly.
>"I've seen way too many deputies out. It's..."
>How much have they told her?
>Come to think of it, how much did you? It's hard to remember. Did she -
>"... it's not safe," Gilded repeats. "I saw two of them attack another pony at a park."
>You look up, not just out of the corner of your eye, but up and alert - the pain and music suddenly pushed to the back of your mind.
>There are more than a hoofful of mares lounging about the room. Some positioned to be watching the TV, some caught flipping through magazines.
>All waiting for the diner to open. For breakfast, to get started filling their quotas...
>Except they're not looking at the TV or their magazines or even at the pony they had been speaking to just seconds earlier in their own quiet conversations.
>They're all staring at Gilded.
>Waiting.
>You take it all in, look them all over, though you can't put a name to a single face.
>All except Gilded, they seem... in shadow. No... fuzzy.
>It's you. You *know* it's you.
>The drums in your head, the strings in your ears - a new... is that... a *guitar*?
>When did that...?
>You shake your head.
>It doesn't help much, but it brings your thoughts back to the moment instead of being lost wherever they were going.
"Really?"
>Gilded nods.
"They were beating a pony?"
>Again, she nods.
"In public?".
>In private, alone, that would be no surprise, but with witnesses?
>Out in the open?
>That hasn't happened in...
>*When*?
"Was his owner there? What... what *happened*?"
>Gilded shrug.
>"I only noticed when he started screaming. They were hitting him with batons until... I guess it was his... *owner*?... did... *something*?"
>She sighs.
>"I don't know. I... didn't want to... I mean, I was on a job, so... my client takes priority and..."
>Gilded laughs. Nervously.
>"I, um, I looked away and tried to focus on... I mean, I had a client. And if they had seen me watching, then..."
"You did the right thing."
>She smiles, but it's not sincere.
>It doesn't match the shadows in her eyes at all.
>"Not surprising, I guess," a mare on the other sofa adds. "They're all fucking assholes."
>"Really?" the pony beside her asks, giving her companion a shove with her hoof. "I always thought J.D. was pretty cute, don't you think so? And he was nice to -"
>"- to Diamond Tiara? *Really*? You saw what happened to her."
>A moment of silence, followed by nodding and a sigh.
>"And it wasn't *just* that," Gilded continues a bit later. "I saw them a few other times. I..."
>She leans over, almost putting her mouth to your ear.
>"... I gave the letter to somepony," she whispers, "but I haven't seen -"
>"We can hear you, you know."
>Gilded grimaces.
"It's okay. It's not a secret."
>She hesitates, then nods and sits up.
>"I haven't seen Derpy," Gilded finishes. "Not at all, any of the times I've gone out. And... we were mostly in public, so..."
>She shrugs.
>"I don't know. Maybe that's normal. But I..."
>The other two - and you - shake your heads.
>"... oh."
"She's always out, doing her rounds."
>"I usually see her," one of the mares agrees. "Unless... you know. If he just wants to fuck at his home, or..."
>"Oh."
"Unless... unless she was hurt. Or her pastor -"
>It seems so wrong to call him her owner.
"- doesn't think it's safe to let her do her rounds."
>"When is it ever?" a mare laughs.
"Then less safe than usual. Normally the sheriff and his deputies leave her alone."
>A sea of nodding heads.
>Each and every one out of sync with the beat playing through your soul, save Gilded's.
>"Hey," the mare closest to the TV says suddenly, sitting up straight, "do y'all think it's because Master Sterling kicked the sheriff's men out?"
"He did?"
>All eyes back on you.
>"You don't know?" Gilded murmurs. "I thought -"
"I'm not running things anymore. I... I've been busy. Did Sterling really..."
>"For a week or two at least," a mare by the card table answers when a moment of silence shows nopony else will. "He said they had to stay clear of here and he'd let them know when they were welcome back."
"That's..."
>Unbelievable.
>Impossible.
>Amazing.
>They never tipped well, but they *paid* well.
>Paid for the damage they did.
>Why?
>Why would Sterling... and why didn't he tell you?
>Because you're supposed to be busy with your music.
>But *why*?
>Why does he suddenly *care*?
>There's a flurry of hopefully, upbeat violin strokes - a frantic and inspiring solo set against a backdrop of -
>Or is it just to keep his slaves healthy and in good condition so he can sell them?
>- silence.

>Before you get to the actual road, Mica's hollerin' an' pointin' off towards the fields.
>"Over there now!"
>Takes you a minute to see what he's tryin' to show you.
>Shouldn't have - ground's bare, ain't no trees save what's down by the road, but it's so unexpected you were blind to it for a minute.
>Cuttin straight through the fields is a mare you don't recognize at all - an' you know all the ponies hereabouts.
>That ain't right, an' that makes your hooves slow as you try to ponder it out.
>She's young - younger'n you, at least.
>Ain't no filly, for sure, but still young.
>She from the Steffords'?
>Maybe one've the crew that's been helpin' out with buildin' the rest stop down the road?
>Nah. Probably not. All've them were from Ponyville, far as you remember.
>Ones that weren't were in Camp Hope Springs, fairly sure.
>An' she's comin' down the road from the opposite way.
>Rest stop's some distance the other direction.
>She from the Andersons' up the road then?
>Whole body tenses up as all the reasons that might be run through your mind.
>But nah, shouldn't be.
>Their ponies were all from the same camp too, an' you're sure you wouldn've heard if they'd brought in some new ponies.
>They ain't got their ponies on as tight a leash as the Steffords an' some of the ponies here like to meet up at the property line to chat some nights, despite it bein' one heck of a walk.
>Ain't no smoke comin' off from that way either.
>Nah, somethin' bout this ain't right at all.
>Your eyes drop from the skyline back to the mare.
>She's hurt, can see that well enough.
>Scratches 'long her flank stand out. The dried blood don't exactly blend in with her yellow coat.
>Not bad, nothin' worse'n you'd sometimes find yourself with after a day've hard work, but they stand out.
>No, not bad, but nothin' you wouldn't get taken care of.
>That's for sure.
>It's flat, too, her coat. Dull an' lifeless. Not the gloss you'd expect from a pony who'd worked herself dead tired.
>No lather on that coat of hers, not a bit of sweat at all.
>Ain't it ain't just the cold.
>She's dehydrated.
>Her grey mane an' tail are a dreadful mess, tangled an' knotted with bits of twig an' leaves mixed in.
>Hooves cracked, one bad 'nough it's bleedin'.
>She's too tired *not* to walk on it, though every few steps she 'members at the last second an' don't put no weight on it.
>And most unsettlin' of all...
>She's smilin'.
>She's lookin' at you an' all the others an' she's smilin'.
>"I think she needs help," Mica whispers, "but I... I remember what you told me about strangers. Did I -"
"You did the right thing gettin' me, now run on back with your friends. Get... get somepony to go on up to the house. Ah think we'll need the truck."
>"But I -"
"Don't argue, Mica."
>Say it firmer than you mean to, but it keeps him quiet an' he don't argue.
>Or that's what you think at first, but nothin' in this world or Equestria could keep him silent for long.
>"Should I ask someone to bring Hematite?"
>Least he ain't arguin'.
>"She's hurt."
>Fair question. *Good* question.
>But you don't know this mare. You don't know what's goin' on here.
"No, we'll bring the stranger to her."
>You pat his head an' - 
>He deserve the whole truth.
"Somethin' ain't right 'bout this, Mica. Ah'm worried."
>- an' you give him a flick of the hoof to his rump to get him runnin'.
>You look left an' right.
>The rest of the foals take after him, though some need a little encouragement from the adults.
>Others got the same looks on their faces as you prolly do, even the humans. Some of 'em.
>Some look like if they had weapons, they'd be holdin' 'em ready.
>You know that look.
>An' you thought you were gettin' to know some've these men.
>Can't fault 'em.
>Been years since trouble found its way out this far, but you ain't ever gonna forget it.
>Ain't likely to ever think on it, either.
>Even Stefford had said to cut down that tree after what Humans First did to it.
>But this mare...
>Everypony's slowed down to match your pace, 'cept the stranger.
>She's walkin' fast as her legs can, tryin' to climb up the slight incline to the path you an' the rest are all standin' on.
>An' still smilin' even as she forgets to keep her cracked hoof off the ground an' winces.
>Can hear the hiss as she sucks in air at the pain of it, but that don't get her to slow down one speck.
>In a few more steps, she's all but galloping your way.
>Cut the distance in half from when you first saw her by now.
"Hold up there an' rest your hoof."
>She looks up - head might've been pointed your way, but she hadn't been *lookin*.
>Hadn't really seen you, not 'til you called out to her.
>She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a dry cough.
>But she stops.
>Walkin', that is.
>Her smile just gets bigger an' wider.
>Karl starts to step forward, but you put a hoof on his leg.
>"I was just going to carry her -"
>Carl puts a hand on his shoulder.
>"She's hurt, Carl."
>"Look at her eyes, Karl."
>Now he says it...
>They're open wide an' unfocused. Pupils big as your hoof.
>"She's hurt," he repeats. "We should help."
>"Look at her ears."
>Flat back.
>"Remember what happened to Royce? This mare's terrified, Karl. And she's a unicorn."
>Hadn't even spotted the tip of her horn pokin' out've the birds nest she's made of her mane.
>"If you go near her..."
"Y'all might be scarin' her."
>Karl frowns, but takes a step back.
>"I get it," he mumbles, "but we aren't going to abandon you. At least *I'm* not."
>He glances over to Carl, who nods.
>You take a deep breath an' - an' resist the urge to look 'round.
>Ain't gonna ask somepony else to do this.
>Not when there ain't no reason for you not to - baby in your belly or not.
>Fact is, somethin' says that's all the more reason it has to be you.
>An' if you were crazy, you'd say that somethin' was the baby itself, but you ain't.
>Still, you trust your instincts.
>Mare's scared. Injured. But there ain't nothin' to her that makes you think you can't be friends.
"How'd you get hurt?"
>You take the small hill slow, givin' her all the time she needs to answer.
>"I got hurt...?" the mare finally answers, once she's found 'nough mosture in her throat to clear the dust. "Oh."
>She looks over her shoulder at her flank, not even seemingly aware of the leg she's got curled up tight to her barrel.
>The leg that makes her lose her balance for a sec an' dance sideways, givin' you a clear look now at her flank.
>At her *blank* flank, save for the scrapes and smears of dry blood.
>Well, y'knew she as young.
>Must've still a filly when everthing went wrong.
>"Oh," she coughs. "I lost my saddlebags."
>She looks sad for a moment, before laughin'.
>"It doesn't matter," she barks softly. "I ran out of water days ago. I didn't think it would take this long to get here."
>She coughs 'gain, dry an' painful to hear.
>"I am here, right? I'm here, aren't I?"
"Depends entirely on where you were goin', but wherever that is Ah think you should take a rest here."
>Can only pray she ain't leadin' trouble to your doorstep, but you can't turn her away.
>"Where's my jacket...? Oh, right. I got hot and... and..."
>She looks 'round.
>"... I took it off, but..."
>A true friend helps a friend in need, an' she's in need for certain.
>"... I'm cold. It's cold."
>No matter the circumstances that put her here.
"Ah think you lost your jacket too, but don't you worry. We got a truck comin' an' we'll get you a nice spot by the cookin' stove, okay? Nice an' warm."
>"No, I can't. Not unless I'm here. The ponies..."
>She half-heartedly jerks her head to gesture back up the road the way she came.
>"... they said I had to keep walking."
>How could they -
>"They said the mare I was looking for was on the next farm. Am I there? Or... did... did I walk too far?"
>Her smile drops for a sec, 'til you shake your head.
"If you're talkin' 'bout the Andersons, we're the next farm down from them. An' the only place past us'd be the Steffords."
>That puts her crazy smile back on her face.
"You were lookin' for us? Why?"
>"My name's Oil Base. I heard I could get my cutie mark here."

"Beets?"
>"Just eat them," Roma sighs. "They're good for you."
"I know, but... *beets*? For breakfast?"
>"Don't argue."
>You weren't planning to.
>Not after she came all the way up here to cook your breakfast for you.
>It's her job, but... 
>... you don't know.
>It was her job, but things are different now.
>You don't know.
>Besides, it smells kind of tasty.
>Beets and eggs.
>But only two eggs.
"We're starting to run low on food, aren't we?"
>"Some," Roma admits as she turns away to start washing dishes. "We have plenty of rice, beans, and oats, but paying those workers in food is starting to take a toll on some of our other supplies."
"Good thing String Bean's garden seems to be taking off."
>You can *hear* her roll her eyes.
>"He's just planted the things. They haven't even sprouted yet."
"I know, but... I have hope."
>"He's never done this kind of stuff before," Roma smirks. "Everypony is trying to help out when they have time, but..."
"I still have hope."
>"It'll be fine. We picked up plenty of rosemary and salt on that last trip. We'll manage to keep the food interesting with those."
>She drops a pan into the sink.
>"Mind if I wash these tonight? I can get them when I come back to -"
"Yeah, that's fine. But I'll be eating dinner at the worksite tonight. Jack and his guys are doing a little grilling and invited me to join them."
>Roma pauses, up on two legs and balancing against the sink with another.
>And shrugs.
>"Then I might as well do these now."
"Or tomorrow morning. Or I can -"
>"I'll do them now," she insists. "Go eat before your food gets cold."
"'kay."
>It *does* smell good.
>And you don't have time to argue.
>Big day. Lots of things to do.
>You start by taking your plate to the living room and chowing down while watching the morning news.
>Fluff pieces, mostly.
>A little about the weather, but nothing you didn't already know.
>You're about to get up and take your empty plate back to the kitchen when it cuts to something a little more interesting.
>Something about the Marshalls running some investigations into pony abuse nationwide.
>Ponies who slipped through the cracks.
>Possible corruption in the Pony Relocation Agency.
>Well, that's good.
>They're about to go into details about a raid in Oregan and the charges against a local Agency official when the clop of hooves running up the stairs.
>You're on your feet before they hit the deck.
>They still make it to the front door before you.
>It slams open with a crash.

"Alright!"
>You slam the truck's door shut.
"Let's get her inside the dorm!"
>Full Steam hops out of the bed as soon as you let the gate down and starts gesturing for this new pony to come over to the edge.
>"Just climb onto my back," he tells her. "I'll carry you."
>It's awkward, watching her try to move.
>Seems like everything just hit her all of a sudden once Apple Bloom and the others had helped her into the truck.
>Like she could allow herself to feel the pain of her injuries now that she didn't have to keep walking.
>She groans as she tries to edge herself to the end of the tailgate.
"Need some help?"
>She's going to say no, of course. She's a runaway - what else could she be? - and there's probably a good reason for that.
>You aren't surprised when she nods.
>Of course she doesn't want a human to -
>She nodded?
>Oh.
>You lean over the tailgate and stretch out your arms to her.
>She's not shy. She doesn't flinch away from your touch.
>And she's not starving either. You wouldn't hazard a guess at when the last time she ate was, but despite her relatively small frame she's still heavy enough you're happy to put her on Full Steam's back instead of trying to carry her in yourself.
>And besides... just the idea of it makes you shiver and remember - 
>There's blood smeared on your shirt.
>But you try not to panic.
>It's not like Silver Spoon.
>This mare just has a few scrapes on her side.
>It's not bad.
>Not much blood.
>And it's not your fault.
>But it still brings back the memories you had thought you could avoid.
>You shiver in place a moment before pushing them to the back of your mind.
>Can't let your guilt paralyze you.
>No.
>You can panic later. When you're back home. In bed.
>In your nightmares, if you have to.
>But right now?
>You keep your shit together.
>No other choice.
>This is just as serious, in its own way.
>Her life may not be at immediate risk, but she's bringing danger to your farm.
>Couldn't get much out of her before getting her into the truck, but you can figure that much out on your own.
>She's on the run from something.
>You look back the way you'd come.
>No real reason. Not really looking for anything. Don't expect to see the sheriff coming your way trying to find a runaway pony.
>Not yet, anyway.
>Maybe hoping Apple Bloom was close enough you could pass this on to her. Maybe...
>The group that had met you down in the fields is still some ways off.
>Of course they are.
>A truck is so much faster than a pony can walk.
>But - you look over at the crowd that's gathered, the ponies that had stayed here instead of running off to check on what the foals had found.
>Nervously milling about.
>Or eagerly.
>This pony is another new face - another new friend.
>They all want to meet her, you can *feel* it.
>But...
>You sigh and close the tailgate.
>Moondancer is among the herd, talking with one of the foals.
>Not working on that sale she promised she could make with Silver's help.
>You could...
>Do your damn job instead of asking her to take over.
>You can fall apart later. It's just a little blood.
"Go on, everyone."
>You wave for the ponies to head out.
"Day's just starting and we've all got a lot to do. Hematite? Are you -"
>"She's inside getting ready," some pony calls out from the crowd.
"Good. You all can meet the new pony after Hematite has looked her over and she's had a chance to get some rest."
>Doesn't satisfy every pony, but they don't argue.
>You don't give them a chance to.
"Stay safe, everyone. This might keep Hematite busy for a while so be careful."
>Not everyone moves out immediately, but they get started on their way.
>Most towards the construction sites, some back to the laundry or whatever other duties they have for the day.
>A few even wave to you as they go.
>You wave back.
>Take a deep breath.
>And go inside the dorm.
>Just the first building - you don't have to move on to the next.
>Part of the dining area has been turned into a little hospital.
>A very little hospital, near the stoves.
>It keeps them warm - warmer than any of the other halls.
>Hematite had insisted.
>Who are you to argue?
>It's working. Most of the injured are back on their hooves in a day or two.
>Of the eight cots, only four are occupied.
>Nor'east broke a leg when he fell. He waves as he sees you.
>Upsy Daisy stepped on a nail. From how happy she seems in her sleep, you almost wonder if it was on purpose.
>Treeline had a bit of an accident with a saw. Nothing serious. He looks up every couple of seconds and sighs like he wishes he could get back to work.
>And...
>You kneel down beside the last occupied cot.
>The stranger - the runaway - lying on her side uncovered, her bloody left flank facing up.
>She doesn't seem to notice you. Or much of anything, just content to lay there and grin as Hematite takes care of her injuries.
>Hematite looks up as your shadow falls over her.
"Is it okay if I talk to her?"
>"Yeth," Hematite mumbles through the tube in her mouth. "Buh..."
>She bites down, squeezing a dollop of antibiotic cream onto the mare's cracked hoof. One of them - they all seem in bad shape, but this one...
>Hematite sets the tube down on the little stool she's turned into her table.
>"... but she hasn't had anything to drink in several days," the filly continues as she rubs the cream in with her hooves. "Can you help her get something down?"
"Sure."
>"But not too much, or -"
"I know. Just a little."
>Hematite's smile hurts your heart, even if it only lasts a second before she turns back to the book a little green filly is holding open.
>"Okay," she murmurs to herself, "I cleaned the area and applied the cream, so now..."
>"The filler?" the other filly asks.
>"But we don't have any," Hematite answers. "Besides..."
>You make a mental note to add that to your list.
>No, you don't. You'll forget. But you make a mental note to talk to Hematite later and see what she needs.
>For now...
"Hi."
>No reaction from the mare.
>You reach for the jug of water someone had brought and pour a little into a cup.
>To your surprise, it's warm.
>Did Hematite think of everything?
>She is... *scarily* good at this.
>You resist the urge to pat her head and turn your attention back to the mare.
"Want some water?"
>*That* gets her attention.
>You hold out the glass for her to sip from, slowly tilting it for her until it's empty.
>And then she looks at you.
>Actually *looks* at you.
"Hi. what's your name?"
>"Oil Base," she croaks.
"Where did you come from?"
>"Town. Can I..."
>You look at Hematite, but she's busy filing one of Oil Base's hooves.
>You use your best judgement and give the mare a little more water.
>She smiles happily as the last of it pours out of the cup.
"So... you're a runaway."
>Oil Base nods.
>Seems easier on her than talking.
>But... shit.
>A runaway.
>That'd definitely leading trouble to your door, if anyone thought to look out this far.
>At least she's not from the Andersons or Steffords - that's some solace.
>They'll probably assume she died in the dead zone. You hope.
>Trouble with the law is the last thing you need when half of your ponies are off of their suppressants.
>How many years would that earn you in jail?
>Or would they just shoot you and every pony that tried to fight back?
>Shit...
>Oil Base's pained hiss draws you out of your imaginings.
>She hisses again as Hematite rubs a wet cloth across the mare's bloody hip.
>"Sorry," the little filly tells her, "but I have to clean this off before I - I..."
>Hematite looks down at the pale yellow coat.
>A couple of pinpricks of fresh blood well up, but aside from that...
>"You're a blank flank!?"
>"But you're an adult!"
>Oil Base snorts.
>"Believe it or not," she frowns, "I'm only a little older than you."
>"But you're an adult."
>"Okay, so I was a late bloomer!" the mare complains, followed by another hiss as Hematite wipes the fresh blood away. 
>"Sorry," Hematite mumbles. "I didn't mean anything. I was just surprised. Now hold still, I'm going to put some more cream on these..."
>Oil Base frowns.
>"I was still a filly when everything happened," she whines, "and I haven't been able to get my cutie mark since. No one has, except -"
>She raises her head to look at Hematite, her eyes settling the filly's cutie mark.
>"- except you."
>"And String Bean!" the other filly adds.
"Is that why you ran away?"
>She nods.
>"It's not fair. I was just about to get my cutie mark, I know it! Everyone else in my school had gotten theirs, so I *had* to be next. But then the princess died and... and..."
"That's it? That's why you ran away?"
>"I don't want to be a blank flank forever! I am *not* going to! I'm going to get my cutie mark!"
"I've... I've got to take you back. I thought you ran away because you were being abused or were afraid for your life, but if that's all -"
>"It's *everything*!" Oil Base screams, too loud for her voice to handle. It breaks and she coughs dryly until she's finished off another half cup of water.
>"You *can't* take me back," she pleads. "I walked all the way out here and it was *so* far. I walked for *days*, but at - at least there wasn't any traffic so I didn't have to hide so much after I got out of town."
"Well yeah, of course there's no traffic. This road doesn't go anywhere.
>"It comes here."

"Better if I help, I figured. Didn't y'all say you had to get this wrapped up soon?"
>Pedro grins, even though he waves you off.
>"Thanks for the thought," he says, though that don't stop him from takin' the rope from you, "but you really shouldn't be doing this, miss."
>He staggers a bit as the weight've the toolbox you were haulin' up to the men above catches him by surprise, but he yanks on the rope hard 'fore too much slips back through the pulley overhead.
"Y'can't say this wouldn't go faster with an extra pair've hands."
>He laughs.
>"I'm not arguing that. But we aren't paying for your time, just your family's ponies. Besides, what if you got hurt?"
>Ain't the first time you've heard that argument an' it's still as true as the first time.
>You raise your hands in surrender. For now.
"Okay, okay, I'll let y'all work in peace."
>He makes faster work've it anyway. Farm born and raised might've made you no weakling, but Pedro can really throw is weight into haulin' on that rope like you never could.
>Man's got well over a hundred pounds on you easy. Closer to two if you had to guess.
>'sides...
>Already got caught. *Here*.
>But over *there*...
>By what's supposed to be the parkin' spaces, there's a row've big, rectangular stone blocks spaced out with four feet or so between 'em.
>An' a cart with five still to be placed.
>Some've your ponies are workin' with a lashed-together teepee lift to get the next block off the cart an' are strugglin' with it.
>*They* don't say a word otherwise when you grab onto the rope they're yankin' with their teeth an' help out.
>Finally get it high enough for one've 'em to pull the cart away an' y'all start lowerin' it down slow, with Davenport holdin' it steady with his front hooves so it don't spin 'round an' stays lined up with the others they've already planted.
>He gives you a grin as the block hits the dirt an' the rope goes slack.
>Some've 'em are warmin' up to you a bit - or to human folk in general.
>You've seen a few comfortable chats between your ponies an' the human crew here an' there.
>But course learnin' their names an' callin' the ponies by 'em like real people helps, though it...
>... it makes it harder to push what's been done to 'em an' all they've been through out've your mind.
>Horrible what people can do to one another, ain't it?
>An' while some seem willin' to forgive...
>There's just as man frowns as there are smiles your way.
>Just as many ponies angry for you tryin' to be their friend now as there are ones glad you're at least *tryin'*.
>Some angry just 'cause, an' that's fair.
>Done what you could to keep 'em safe, but that weren't always enough.
>An' others... they got their reasons.
>Y'don't think bad at Beauty Brass an' a few others for shyin' away from you or glarin' suspiciously when she don't think you're watchin'.
>Ponies undo the straps 'round the block y'all'd just set an' pull 'em loose while others grab at the hoist an' start draggin' it over to the next spot where the cart's already waitin'.
>You jump at a cough at your side.
>"Sorry, miss," Jack says in his usual amiable growl, "didn't mean to startle you."
"No, nah, it's fine, I'm the one that should be sorry. I should have seen you."
>"No, you *should* be somewhere else," he grins, "and not at my worksite. But since you're here..."
>He holds out a hand, gesturin' off a ways towards the shippin' crate that's his office.
>"... can I offer you a cup of coffee?"
"Well, okay, but -"
>"They've already set a dozen blocks without you," Jack says, cuttin' you short. "Pretty sure they can manage another four on their own."
>True enough, but still...
>You frown.
"Ain't gonna yell at me again, are ya?"
>Jack shakes his head an' laughs.
>"No, I -"
>An' then he stops.
>"No," he repeats, dead serious, "things were a bit rough the first few days and I had my doubts, but things have worked out.
>"Don't know if it's because you keep showing up and poking around of if my men have just gotten used to drawing ponies out of their shells, but things are going better than I expected.
>Even the men like Shawn you don't like ponies are doing... well, they aren't causing any trouble."
"Good to hear."
>"I don't want to mislead you, though. This will probably still be an uncomfortable conversation."
"Just 'cause I want to help out my -"
>Y'almost say 'friends', but that ain't true. At all.
"- my ponies?"
>Ain't a one of these ponies your friend, even if many of 'em might be growin' *friendlier*.
>Not the same.
>Not yet.
>Damn near any've 'em would turn on you in a heartbeat if it weren't for them bein' so afraid or tired or broken. You can *feel* it.
>"Well," Jack sighs, "that might be a part of it, miss. But I know you've heard the men talking about the change in our schedule because I also know they can't keep their damn mouths shut. If you'd follow me..."
>Somethin's up.
>He's bein' awful polite - for him.
>Not the gruff bluntness you've grown to expect from Jack in the short time you've known him.
>Makes you curious.
>An' that, more than the sudden gust of freezin' wind drives you to take up his offer.
"Alright Jack, I wouldn't mind a hot drink to warm up."
>Not that you'd refuse.
>Man's bein' polite. Only reasonable for you to respond in kind.
>He gonna ask you to talk to your friend? Get him to lend his ponies to the cause?
>Maybe convince the few hands your daddy talked into stickin' around to come down an' join in?
>Don't see the first really bein' an option, what with all they're workin' on themselves.
>The second... you ain't gonna let that happen. Not while you can help it.
>Jack don't say a word on the walk over. Don't even look 'round like he always does, watchin' for trouble, callin' out to folks slackin' off or doin' things not *just right*.
>Man seems a bit lost in his own thoughts - an' he's findin' more'n enough trouble there.
>Can't hardly look at him for more'n a few steps 'fore whatever troubles he's dealin' with start to make you uncomfortable too.
>So you... you look away. Wave to a few ponies that look up an' take notice of you.
>Smile at the handful on break sittin' 'round a fire someone built, snackin' on their hay an' dried fruits.
>Big kettle they'd put over it whistles as you pass.
>It's good you an' Jack ain't the only ones havin' a warm drink.
>Y'give em' a smile none see as Jack opens the door for you an' shows you in ahead of him.
>His office looks much the same as before, to your eyes at least.
>You try to look 'bout, here an' there an' anywhere but at Jack as he pours the two've you coffee an' has a seat behind his desk.
>That don't make you any less uneasy.
>You take the other seat with a bit of hesitation.
>He gonna ban you from the worksite?
>Well within' his rights.
>You like to think you're helpin', but -
>"Look miss, I'm going to level with you here," Jack sighs. An' sighs again for good measure. "We're *fucked*."
>He scowls so hard into his mug've coffee it's a minor miracle it don't boil over in his hands.
>"This rest stop is a good idea, a good spot and it'll serve a good purpose, but..."
"But?"
>"... it's little more than a vanity project for a handful of shitstains," Jack growls.
"Y'mean Timmons?"
>"Among others. I'm not saying this rest stop wouldn't be a good thing to have here, but it's not a priority. Things have come up."
"California?"
>He nods.
>"This should have been a six-month project. Longer, but we're used to building on a short deadline and I honestly expected to bring it in under time - if we got everything we were promised."
>He sneers at a calendar on the near wall 'fore turnin' back to you.
"An' now?"
>"I've been given a month to finish it. No corners cut, no scaling back on any part of it. Like I said, it's not a priority, but..."
"Someone wants a feather in their cap."
>"Yeah," Jack grins.
>It's not a happy smile.
>More've a wince.
>"If they'd asked me -"
"You would have told them to go fuck themselves."
>He snorts.
>Then he chuckles.
>"I wouldn't have said it in so few words, but yes. Not every job is worth doing perfectly, but this... it's a long drive. People will need a place to stop. And I *know* it won't be given the maintenance it needs - unless we do it right the first time."
>Silence.
>Is he askin'... ?
>What *is* he askin'?
>Ain't got a clue where this all is goin'.
>An' he's busy glarin' at his coffee 'gain like it's the person behind this all.
"What... uh..."
>He looks up.
"What would you do if it was totally up to you?"
>Jack frowns - more than he always is and runs a hand through his grey beard.
>Grown out quite a bit from the stubble he had when you first met, but still ain't much of an answer.
"C'mon, Jack."
>You shrug.
"Be honest with me. Tell me what would you do."
>"This is bullshit," Jack snaps. "I'd drop this project immediately."
>He blinks. Scowls harder.
>"Sorry, miss. I spoke without thinking. What I mean is I'd pause on this and come back later, or send in another crew to finish it when one is freed up."
"What's goin' on in California is that important?"
>"Yes, miss. It is."
"Y'can drop the 'miss' stuff, Jack."
>"No, I can't. I'm about to ask you for a big favor and that deserves a little politeness on my part."
>Well that don't sound good at all.
>"We've got to get this job finished. If we don't, not only will my ass be in hot water, but it'll make it harder to get funding for other civil projects - and we *need* those.
>"This *country* needs those. The *people* need it. And we've got to do it right.
>"It's got to stand for decades because we don't have the manpower or resources to keep coming back and fixing shit up because we did a sloppy job in the first place.
>"At the same time, we've got to move on. The men are, for the most part, combat engineers. There are other crews working all over the nation, but few have the experience we do. And shit is hitting the fan. We're *needed* elsewhere."
>Jack drifts off again.
"Sounds like they've put you in a tough spot."
>He nods.
>"I'm only seeing one option here. We've got most of our materials, but we're still short on much of the machinery we were expecting.
>"I don't have the manpower to make up for it, even with the ponies.
>"We've learned a few tricks, gone back to some ancient ways, but none of that will help us dig a trench faster or move beams from one place to another any quicker than we already are."
>He stops to run his fingers through his beard again.
"You're stallin', ain't you? Is it really that bad?"
>"Not something I should be asking for at all, but..."
"You're in a tough spot."
>"We are," he sighs. An' then goes silent again.
"Then just ask."
>"I want your ponies to stop taking their suppressants."
>Jack's jaw drops. Then yours.
>"Well *fuck*," he snarls to himself, "I was sure I'd pussy out and come up with something else. It's against the law, and... and..."
>He looks up to see how you're takin' it.
"But that's the truth of it?"
>He starts to play with his whiskers 'gain, though he stops himself short.
>Nods an' straightens up, looks you square in the eye.
>"Yes miss, it is. I like to play by the rules and keep everything as above board as I can. If anyone even *heard* I suggested this..."
>He sighs.
>"I've seen what ponies can do.
>"An earth pony at full strength can dig faster than a man with a shovel using nothing but his bare hooves.
>"A unicorn - or several working together - can lift a beam into place faster than a whole team with a frame and some rope. A few of the stronger ones can even teleport things from place to place.
>"Pegasi can get up to places my men can't without ladders or scaffolding. Know how much time that'd save us, even if one of the crew has to stand below her and shout out directions?
>"And... I know it's possible."
>He frowns. Scratches at his beard 'gain.
>"Fucking shouldn't be, but it is," he sighs. "At least, that's what the guys that have been helping out your friend have been saying.
>"I've heard rumors some of his ponies aren't on their suppressants and are using their abilities. They say the ponies are trying to hide it from them, but...
>"It's true, isn't it? They've got their magic?"
"It -"
>Y'asked the man to be honest with you.
>How can you not do the same?
"- ain't my place to say, but..."
>It's an honest answer. An' it gets the point across.
>"And none of them have gone crazy?"
>That you shake your head to.
>"No irritability, no aggression? No violence? No rampaging or throwing themselves under a moving truck to make the pain stop or silence the noise in their head?"
"Ain't seen nothin' like that, Jack."
>"We tried that before, you remember?" he pushes. "At the refugee camps? When we were trying to set the pylons?"
>You nod slowly.
"I only heard a little on the news."
>"We only tried it a little," Jack grins sadly. "It was a failure. Outright. Total fuckup.
>"Some ponies could manage it for a while - and I know it's not unusual for the occasional pony to be off his meds here or there -"
>You can think of a few.
>"- not a big deal so long as they don't fuck around and make a show of it - but overall..."
"I heard."
>"... it usually goes tits up fast. And the more that are off the suppressants, the bigger the shitshow."
"I know."
>"It's one of the reasons the suppressants went from a necessity to absolutely, *unquestioningly* mandatory - and one of the reasons the ponies agreed to it so readily.
>"But... if *his* ponies have their magic back..."
>You - you stop yourself from noddin'.
"If you think that's true, an' I ain't sayin' it is -"
>Jack nods for you to continue. Clearly understands - an' shares - your caution here.
"- then why not ask his help? Get some of his ponies an' -"
>"Because they're busy," Jack answers back a l'il too fast. "And... and he doesn't really know what's going on. He doesn't understand the stakes.
>"He's trying to help his ponies and give them a better life - and I'm all for that, you've got to believe me - but he doesn't truly get what's going on here.
>"Not what we're doing as a nation, not... not even what he *himself* is trying to accomplish.
>"But *you* - your neighbor is just a man doing his best, but *you* know what's going on. You *understand* things. I *trust* you.
>"Notice how you're down here trying to help your ponies while he's... he's..."
>Jack shrugs.
>That's almost - no, it *is* insultin'.
"He's doin' his best."
>"He's doing his best," Jack nods. "It's not the same. There's a difference.
>"I've seen a lot of fuckers abuse their ponies, but I've seen just as many try to do right and take care of them. What he's doing isn't revolutionary -"
"Except for the magic."
>"I've got a feeling that has nothing to do with that man. And I think you know it too."
"He's..."
>May be some truth to that.
>You shrug.
"All I can say is he's doing his best."
>Jack nods.
>"He is. That's why I'm asking you, not him."
>You gotta stop an' think for a minute.
>On how that ain't quite right. On how to say no. Or yes.
>'bout how you haven't had a single sip of coffee yet.
>It's still warm. An' bitter.
>You take a second sip.
>It's too bitter for a third.
"I... I get what you're sayin', Jack. An' I get why you're askin' - not just me, but why you're askin' at all.
"You're a pretty no-nonsense guy, aren't you?"
>He nods.
"And you're a man who cares about his job, but more'n that I think you care about helpin' folk an' makin' the world a better place."
>"I like to think so."
"Even if it is just a rest stop on a road from nowhere special to nowhere important."
>"Even so. We build this, build it right, and it'll help people. Not like rebuilding a bridge would, but it might save a few lives by giving people a place to stop and rest for an hour.
>"That seems worth doing right to me."
>You take that third sip right about now.
>Jack waits patiently.
"I'd like to see this done proper, but you're right. I understand what you're askin' of us - not just me an' my family, but the ponies too."
>"Doesn't have to be every pony -"
"An' I wouldn't trust every pony. Much as I want to, there's..."
>"I understand," Jack nods. "You don't have to explain."
"I think... I think we can consider what you're askin'."
>You say that, but you know what 'we' would say.
>Daddy would take the back of his hand to anyone that would mention such a thing.
>Then take a shotgun to any pony that he suspected hadn't been takin' their pills.
>An' damn near the whole world would agree it was the right thing to, puttin' it out've its misery 'fore it could snap an' kill someone.
>"You get we can't talk about this to anyone, right?" Jack asks. "Even if we don't do go through with it, if you so much as mention that I asked..."
"I understand. What about your crew?"
>His mouth tightens up.
>"I don't know," he admits. "We don't have much contact with the world outside our worksites, but... I don't know. I just don't see any other way to make this happen."
>Jack sighs.
>"Don't know what I'll have to promise them, but we've been together a long time. I can trust them. And the ones I can't trust...
>"You do this for me, find a way to make the magic work, help me get this done *right* and before our transports arrive, and I'll find a way to keep my crews' mouths shut.
>"I'll send them all up to help your friend if I have to, leave the worksite with just the ponies and a handful of men I can trust to keep their mouths shut.
>"And... you'll get the full payment. The full six months pay that we planned to use your ponies.
>"I know Timmons put some kind of escape clause into the contract. Right now that little shit is probably thinking about how he can use it.
>"Probably get a bonus for getting the project done under budget thanks to it, too."
>Jack growls an' shakes his head.
>"Fuck that cunt. I'll make sure he pays your family in full."
>The phone in your hip pocket buzzes.
"That sounds... more'n fair, Jack."
>Makin' some vague promises there with no clue how he's gonna back 'em up, but...
>Phone buzzes again.
>You pull it free an' silence it without lookin'.
>... he's the kind've man who gets shit done. He says he's gonna do it, he'll do it.
>You *know* it.
"But..."
>Your phone buzzes a third time an' you hit the button 'gain.
>Wait...
>Hol' on...

>"Better make this quick," Lauren sighs into the phone. "I'm in the middle of somethin' important."
"I know, but..."
>You shrug.
>Pointlessly.
>She can't see you; it's a phone call.
>But you still shrug.
>And you still keep pacing back and forth along your living room.
>Apple Bloom's head follows your every step, but Moondancer and Silver Spoon keep talking quietly between themselves.
>Maud just sits there on the floor, against the wall. Waiting.
"... I didn't know who else to call, Lauren. We need some advice."
>Not even Apple Bloom had the answer to this problem.
>"What's goin' on?"
"I've got a pony here..."
>"You've got a few hundred," she growls.
"Yeah, but one of them is a runaway."
>You hear some muffled swearing from her end.
>Can't quite make out the words, but the intent is obvious.
>"I'll be right there."

>"You serious?" Lauren sighs as she sits down on the sofa next to Silver Spoon. "You better be."
"I am."
>She puts her hand to her temple - but uses it to brush away a few loose strands of hair from her face.
>It doesn't trick anyone.
>"Today just keeps on givin'. Great."
"I guess it was a bad time. Sorry. I -"
>She waves her hand.
>"It's fine. I'll..."
"What?"
>"I'll figure it out," she mumbles. "You've got enough going on right now. Don't need to worry about my issues."
>You -
>She's... *wrong*.
>But -
>"Look," Moondancer growls, "we've got to figure out what to do with Oil Base. Now."
>Well, that's why you got all your closest friends here. To figure that out.
>Between Lauren, Moondancer, Silver Spoon, Apple Bloom, Maud, and yourself, *someone* should have an answer.
>Or at least a good idea.
>"An' figure out if we're gonna get more ponies comin' to us for help," Apple Bloom nods. "How'd she find out 'bout the cutie marks?"
>Lauren shrugs.
"The pastor?"
>You look at Lauren for her opinion, but she shakes her head.
>"Doubt it," she says. "He was warning us to be cautious about letting anyone know, so why would he tell folks himself?"
"Couldn't have been Bill. He -"
>"What makes you think it was a human?" Apple Bloom asks. "Could'a been Redheart that told her. She knows 'bout Hematite for sure. Or..."
>"Or...?" Moondancer presses.
>"Ore," Maud says firmly. Then giggles in her own stoic way.
>"Ah mean, it was probably..."
>"Derpy," three out of four ponies sigh in unison.
>Maud is still giggling to herself at her pun. You can almost see a smile on her face.
>You're not even sure how you know it was a pun, but you can't think of anything else that would make her crack up like that for so long.
>Moondancer shakes her head and sighs.
>"Can't blame her too much," Apple Bloom says and reaches from her chair across the side table to put a hoof on the other pony's shoulder. "Derpy pro'lly thought folks needed some good news, an' Ah can't think of anything better to tell 'em."
>"Except it caused this pony to run away," Lauren points out, "an' like you said, there might be more. Ain't an easy trip out here, either."
>"It is a long walk," Maud comments.
>The woman shakes her head.
>"More'n that, Maud," she says. "It's a long walk with no cover in the middle've winter. No place to stop an' sleep either, 'cept a few bushes."
"And I don't think any of them know how far it really is. Oil Base really wasn't prepared."
>"Ah don't think nopony'd be stupid enough to try an' cut through the deadzone, but..."
>You all fall silent.
"Yeah... I hope that won't happen. At least they have a chance if they stay out of there."
>"Might not have a choice," Lauren murmurs. "Might be the only way to get away if they're bein' chased."
"Shit. I hadn't thought of that, but Bill did say the sheriff's department has been more active than usual."
>Lauren looks up.
>"When'd he say that?"
"Called him after I called you. Thought I'd see if he knew about Oil Base since she wouldn't tell me anything herself."
>"An'?"
>You shake your head.
"He didn't know her personally, of course, but he's heard a little. Seems like her owner runs a little print shop in town."
>"Miller Prints?" Silver asks. "I... remember them. Not her, though."
>You nod.
"Yeah, Miller Prints. Owners have had her contract for two years now, and they've mostly kept her in the back working the printers.
"Seems they let her have a little freedom. She would meet with friends every night and her owners gave her a small weekly salary.
"No rumors of abuse or mistreatment. Treat her almost like a regular employee. As far as I can tell..."
>You shrug.
"... she really did run away just because she thought she could get her cutie mark here."
>"Well..." Lauren hums, "y'don't really got a reason to hold on to her if that's the case. If they'd been hurtin' her, then maybe you could make some kinda claim of offerin' her sanctuary, but without that you ain't got a leg to stand on."
"The suspicion right now is that Human's First got her and the sheriff is just putting on a show of looking to cover it up.
"From what Bill said, things are getting pretty rough because of it with people accusing the department of killing her.
"The deputies... aren't happy about that and are taking it out on ponies they find breaking any laws. If we return her..."
>"That *might* calm the situation there," Moondancer finishes for you, "but there's no guarantee. And there's no guarantee she won't be punished, either by the sheriff or her owners."
>"Punished?" Apple Bloom hisses. "Then we can't send her back! All she wants t'do is get her cutie mark! She nearly died to get here! We gotta -"
>"Keep a runaway?" Lauren cuts her off. "Harboring's a serious crime. Hell, might even be considered pony traffickin' if they think you were gonna sell her! The marshalls will get involved if that's the case. They might already be if they suspect she was stolen instead of runnin' away an' if anyone knows she's here -"
"The Andersons' ponies know."
>"An' Bill."
"He won't say anything."
>"Neither will anypony," Apple Bloom says, though you wish you could share her confidence.
>"Y'all can't be sure of that," Lauren groans. "Think this through. If the marshalls come, or even the sheriff, they're gonna see what else you're doin'. Ain't gonna be as simple as 'em pickin' her up, y'know. They're gonna search the farm for any other ponies they think you're harborin' an' any l'il thing you've done wrong they're gonna hit you on."
"Like?"
>She sighs and folds over, resting her head in her hands.
>"Like how half've your ponies ain't on their pills."
>Silver reaches out, but Lauren doesn't notice the leg on her back.
>"No one takes it too serious if it's just one pony here an' there so long as nothin' goes wrong - mostly 'cause it nearly always does so nobody even considers it's happenin' - but you ain't just got one or two!"
"Yeah, but -"
>"Not gonna just fine you, y'know? They're gonna say you should know better for sure, what with all that happened to your uncle. They're gonna take you to jail for abusin' your ponies an' more - an' that's if you're lucky! Worse case, someone's gonna start to wonder why nothin's goin' wrong with 'em an' scoop up the entire bunch to experiment on!"
>You expect her to go on, but instead there's just an awkward silence until Maud nods.
>"She has a point."
>No shit.
>But...
"Maybe you could call up Oil Base's owners," Apple Bloom starts, "an' come to some sort've arrangement -"
>"We can't afford to buy her," Moondancer cuts in, with Silver Spoon nodding along sadly.
>"Things may seem better now," Silver adds, "but we're still running on a tight budget. I don't think we can tighten it any further without making cuts."
>"Weren't even thinkin' that," Apple Bloom snorts. "We could just... y'know... keep her here long enough for me to help her get her cutie mark, then we could take her back. An' if they agree an' all, wouldn't be any trouble!"
>"If they don't," Silver sighs, "then we'll be leading them right here."
>"Yeah, but... ain't it worth a shot? Ah mean... we could take her back if they say no, but there's no way they'll agree if we never ask."
"But what if they really do say no, Apple Bloom? You're saying you're okay with us taking her back?"
>"Well, no, but what're the odds that'll happen?" she answers. "They sound like reasonable people."
"I think a reasonable person might want their employee at work."
>"Yeah, but..."
>"He's right," Maud monotones. "Either we take her back or we hide her."
>"Anything else is too risky," Moondancer agrees.
>Lauren nods, Silver, too, a moment later.
"Great. So we've narrowed our two options down to... two options."
>"If you take her back," Silver says slowly, "they'll know where she ran to. And where others might be trying to go. Someone might ask why they're trying to get here."
"They'll know that if they catch any other runaways."
>"Nuh-uh," Apple Bloom shakes her head. "She didn't know where she was goin', just that it was one've these farms. Or maybe even the city. Could've been anywhere."
"That's a pretty thin excuse."
>You sigh.
"But... if anyone had any idea she came out here, they would have caught her by now. It's taken her days to walk here. If anybody had bothered to look out this way..."
>Shit.
"I think... I think what we've got to do is keep a low profile. And to do that..."
>You look at your friends, each in turn.
>Trying to see if they agree with you, if any of them has a hint on how to go.
>Lauren looks away.
>Silver Spoon's eyes dart around as much as yours. "I... I'd like to help her - we *should* - but..."
>Moondancer shrugs.
>But Apple Bloom?
>"Hide her," she says when your eyes meet hers. "Please, if we only got the two choices then you gotta."
>Maud nods.
>"Ah can't turn away a pony that's askin' for help with her cutie mark. Ah *can't*."
"You could... go with me into town whenever we need supplies? Try to help her there?"
>"An' what're the odds her owners'll let me do that? Particularly now that she's already run away once?"
>You sigh.
"Probably the same as them agreeing to let her stay out here."
>Well...
"Part of me says to put it up for a vote with the others, since it'll affect them if things go wrong, but part of me says..."
>"Keep her," Silver says. "If she goes back, who knows what'll happen?"
>No one here would know better than her.
>Moondancer frowns, but shrugs.
>"It's a lose-lose situation," she sighs. "We'll manage."
"Good. We're keeping her. Apple Bloom -"
>"Ah'm already on it," she smiles and jumps out of her chair. "Don't worry, Ah'll get it all taken care of!"
>Good, because you had no idea what you were going to say.
"Perfect."
>Maud follows after her with a little nod your way.
>"Well, if you've got that emergency figured out," Lauren mumbles, "I better get goin'. Got a lot -"
"To tell us? What's going on, Lauren?"
>She looks up at you from under her hair and smiles.
>"Why does doing the right thing come so easy to you?"
"Since when? Did you not see how hard it was to decide not to send Oil Base back to her owners? Have you ever met me? Most of my life I've done nothing but the wrong thing."
>"Since now," Lauren snorts. "How'd you make that choice?"
"Because..."
>You want to be the person she believes you can be?
"... because I have friends. Doing what's right is easy when you have friends who back you up."
>She nods.
>As does Silver Spoon.
"So. Lauren..."
>"Is there something we can help you with?" the mare asks, with her hoof on her friend's leg.
>"Nah, I just needed to think somethin' through," Lauren grins. "It's all good now."